#why is this so out of sync? T_T | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaesqueso · 3 years ago

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Feline Instinct

pairing: barista!ten x werecat female!reader (feat taeyong, yangyang and briefly the 7th sense line)

summary: He always loved cats and he seemed to have an hypnotising attraction to you, could the two be related?

for the Neo CreaTures collab by the incredible @raibebe ❤

word count: 8,655

warnings: suggestive but no actual description of anything, marking, mentions of heat and mating, lil bit of angst and too much fluff

a/n: why did this take forever to finish? anyways, rai I love you, I’m sorry this is so late T_T was going to have smut but already too long and fluffy to include, hope ya’ll enjoy it! ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

As Ten opens his eyes the pounding in his head makes him hide inside the covers. What the hell did he drink yesterday that got him this wasted?

Slowly flashes of last night go through his mind. It was halloween. He got in his Edward Scissorhands outfit and drank a few beers with his friends before they head out to a party. More drinks, more friends. People in weird costumes, people in sexy costumes and… Her. Oh, he remembers her. The cutest kitten outfit he’s ever seen. And he went up and talked to her. ‘How embarrassing’ he thought. But he remembers her smiling as they talked. And then he left to go home, but wait… She came home with him! He can now recall the messy kisses and the hands all over each other. And she insisted on keeping the ears and the skirt with the tail as they fooled around in his bed, ‘kinky’ he thought. But hold up. She fell asleep in his arms. Is she here?

Carefully he peeks through the sheets only to find no one around. Half of him is relieved that she won’t see the mess he’s in right now but the other half can’t help but be disappointed not to wake up by her side.

Getting up, he heads to the shower. As the water falls down his back he can feel his skin burning. Turning his back to the bathroom mirror he widens his eyes seeing the scratch marks all over, damn this girl was on fire!

He can’t stop thinking about her and the way their bodies moved in sync the previous night. He’s sure he needs to be with her again, but he doesn’t even know her name, how’s he going to find her?

Ten gets dressed and walks to the kitchen to get some food, but first he goes outside to put out something for the stray cats in his street. Meow’s fill the air as he gets outside.

“Good morning lovelies.” He smiles as he pours out some milk for the hungry little animals.

He watches them for a few minutes before turning to head back inside to have his own breakfast but one of the cats grabs his attention.

“You’re new around here aren’t you?” He picks the kitten up and observes its shiny fur and a soft pink collar. “We got a little run away don’t we?”

His heart melts as the little cat rubs its head on his hand, purring. He tries searching its collar and the heart shaped pendant but there’s no name, no number, nothing. He decides to leave it for now but if in a few days the kitten is still around he’ll definitely try to find its owner, they must be worrying sick, he knows he would.

Later that day he goes out to meet his friends.

“The man of the moment arrives!” Johnny shouts and everybody cheers and laughs as Ten enters the room.

“Dude, did you actually score?” Mark asks.

“Is that even a question?” Jaehyun grins. “Of course he did, look at the smile on his face!”

Ten scratches the back of his head in embarrassment, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up.

“I don’t know man, he was pretty drunk.” Mark shrugs his shoulders.

“Just let him talk.” Doyoung shushes the others and then turns to Ten. “Did you get lucky or not?”

“Well…” They all lean forward as he starts. “I did.”

The boys celebrate as if these were the news of the century.

“Oh c’mon guys, it’s not that big of a deal.” Ten tries to tone things down.

“Not a big deal?” Mark widens his eyes.

“Don’t you know who that was?” Doyoung is incredulous.

“Hm, should I?” Ten’s confused.

“Not to scare you but that’s Taeyong’s cousin.” Jaehyun almost whispers.

“Wait, do you mean the one he’s very protective about?” Ten’s expression now turns into a scared one.

“Don’t worry,” Johnny places his hand on Ten’s shoulder, “he didn’t see you two leave.”

“Who didn’t see whom leave?” Taeyong unexpectedly walks into the room and the boys freeze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we were just talking about how Mark was hammered and Johnny had to take him home!” Doyoung tries to come up with an excuse.

“Oh yeah, you guys just disappeared!” Taeyong nods, but then his phone rings. “Sorry, let me just take this.”

The room falls silent as glances are exchanged when he picks up the phone.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N. A lightbulb lights up in Ten’s head. That’s her name.

“You need me to pick you up?” Taeyong continues his phone call. “Ok, drop by the coffee shop later then. Bye.”

The coffee shop? Oh yeah, Ten and Taeyong had the night shift today. So that means she’s going to be there? Would she remember what happen? She didn’t look that drunk. Will she want to talk to him again or was this just a one time thing?

“Yo, Ten!” Taeyong waves his arm making Ten re-focus on the conversation. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah.” They get up. “See you later.”

The drive to the coffee shop is awkward. Well, at least for Ten, he feels nervous about how Taeyong would react if he knew what happened.

“Ten, are you ok?” Taeyong asks as they arrive. “You seem a little lost in your thoughts today.”

“I’m fine, just tired.” Ten simply replies.

“Oh yeah, you got pretty wasted last night too!” Taeyong grins. “Did you go home alone?”

“Of course, who would I’ve gone with?” Ten nervously laughs as he puts on his apron to start working.

Every other minute he glances at the door in hopes to see her. Is she really coming? Will it be awkward? Does he look ok-

“Y/N!” His thoughts are interrupted by Taeyong’s voice.

Ten glances to the door and there she is. In casual clothes this time, a pleated mid-calf skirt, knitted sweater, black beret and a beautiful pink necklace with a heart pendant.

“Ten this is Y/N, my cousin.” Taeyong does the introductions, little does he know there’s no need for them.

“Hi.” She says with the cutest smile.

“Hi.” His voice comes out almost silent.

“I’m gonna take 5, ok?” Taeyong asks.

“Sure.” Ten simply manages to say.

His eyes follow the two cousins to a table in the corner. There’s no other costumers at this time so he decides to clean up a bit instead of just staring at them which would be suspicious. As he’s wiping the counter he accidentally hears a bit of their conversation even if they’re taking really low.

“You know I don’t like you just disappearing like that.” Taeyong says.

“I’m sorry Tae.” She lowers her head.

“Did anyone see you?”

“No, don’t worry.”

“I’m just trying to protect you. You know that right?”

“Maybe I’m a big girl and I can make my own decisions now. I don’t need you protecting me all the time.”

“Right, because if I wasn’t there last time you’d be fine right?”

“That was an accident and you know it. Plus I still got 8 more.”

“That will quickly be wasted if you’re not careful-”

Taeyong is interrupted by a loud bang. Ten widens his eyes looking down at the tray he accidentally knocked to the floor as he was eavesdropping. He apologises and steps away, hopefully they don’t think too much about it.

Ten didn’t talk to her that night. But she started regularly coming every time Taeyong was working, luckily they share a lot of shifts so he got to see her more. She usually seats by the window reading a book and drinking a latte.

He sneaks as many glances as he can without his friend noticing. There’s definitely something about this girl that just keeps him hooked. They haven’t even talked that much but he just knows he wants to be with her.

Kinda like how he feels about his feline friends. Specially this new one with the collar and the heart shape pendant. It has been coming around everyday and quickly became part of the family.

Unlike the other stray cats, this one always has clean fur and a healthy look, he bets the owner is worrying sick so he decides to take a few pictures and post it around the block, surely someone will give him a call. But after a week there was nothing. And to make it worst, somebody kept taking the posters down. Every other day he had to print out new signs to put up, but it was getting ridiculous, who would do such a thing?

On a beautiful sunny afternoon, Ten was almost arriving to work when he noticed he forgot his apron and he wasn’t about to get scolded again. Looking at the clock there was still time to run back home and get it so there he went.

He quickly found what he came looking for right by the door so it didn’t take him long to make his way back but as he crossed the street he saw someone in a black hoodie standing close to one of the “Missing cat” signs Ten had put up. Could it be that this person knows who the kitty belongs to? But before he could even consider approaching this person the paper is quickly ripped off the wall and crumbled into a pocket.

“Hey!” He shouts moving towards the mysterious figure.

The person looks back and he squints his eyes trying to see their face but the hood over their head covers most of it, and also it doesn’t help how fast they started running away.

“Stop!” Ten chases them down the streets completely forgetting his obligations.

But as fast as he likes to think he is, whoever this might be must run for a living because he simply can’t keep up. Specially not when the person started climbing walls in between buildings, real parkour style. Watching the lean figure smoothly getting away, he groans and kicks the air in frustration.

Glancing at his watch, he curses under his breath making his way back to the coffee shop, hoping he won’t be late. As he arrives, Taeyong rushes him to the back just before their manager walks through the door.

The whole shift, Ten’s mind was trying to unveil what happened. Who was that and why are they trying to sabotage the poor cat’s journey back home? He just couldn’t understand and he was obsessing over it. Also it didn’t help that his co-worker’s cousin didn’t drop by to distract his thoughts.

Almost a week passed by before he saw her again. Days spent juggling between trying to figure out who the mysterious traceur was and understand why does he miss this girl so much when they barely even talked. And then she reappeared. As beautiful as ever, walking through the glass doors in front of the café.

His heart pounds against his chest, his lips go dry and his sweaty hands start shaking. Enough is enough. He doesn’t know what kind of dark magic this girl has on him but today is the day he’s gonna ask her out.

“Y/N!” As Ten opens his mouth to greet her, Taeyong comes from the back and goes around the counter. “Did you bring it?”

She nods and hands him an envelope.

“Ten,” he grabs his attention away from her, “I need to take 10. Get Y/N the usual, I’ll be right back.”

And just like that Taeyong is out the door before Ten can even reply. The girl goes to her regular table by the window but doesn’t pull out a book like she usually does. Actually she looks a bit nervous today. He hurries in finishing her order. The shop is almost empty so this is his chance.

“Here’s your latte.” He gently places the cup on the table.

“Thanks.” Her voice is quiet and eye contact is being carefully avoided.

“Are you ok?” Ten asks sitting down in the chair in front of her, but only gets a nod as she lowers her head. “I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive, I can go if you’d like.”

“That’s ok.” She softly says as she takes a sip of her drink.

Silence takes over the table as Ten builds up the courage to say what’s been on his mind.

“Look, I-” He clears his throat. “I don’t remember much from the other night but-”

She finally looks up at him. He almost chokes at the way her eyes shine and for the first time he notices the yellow greenish colour through the almond shape and how her pupils seem more narrow, almost like a cat-

He shakes his head and re-focuses.

“I had a few too many drinks at that party and I wish I had meet you in a different way, someway I’d actually remember, somewhere nice and quiet where I’d be sober and we could talk and get to know each other properly, and-” He stops as he watches the corner of her mouth curl up while he rambles. “What I’m trying to say is, can we start over?”

She tilts her head as if not understanding where he’s getting at.

“I mean, can we grab dinner sometime?” Ten widens his eyes at how abrupt this came out. “Or do something else you’d like. Doesn’t have to be dinner. Or we can do nothing at all. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this, I’m gonna go-”

“I’d love to have dinner with you, Ten.” He stops when she lays her hand on top of his over the table. Her touch feels familiar but he guesses the memory of that night still lingers on his skin.

“For real?” He just can’t believe it.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “Tomorrow night? I know you’re not working.”

“Hm, yeah, sounds great!” He tries to play cool but the happiness inside him is showing like a fish in clear water. “Should I pick you up?”

“How about we meet downtown at 7pm?” She quickly suggests.

“Sounds great!” Ten’s face is lit up with the biggest smile, matching the one on hers.

“Let’s just… Hm… Keep this from Taeyong, ok?” She gently asks. “He can be a bit too protective, you know?”

“Sure, I understand.” He agrees.

The sound of the bell on the front door interrupts the dreamy moment.

“Well I gotta go back to work.” He sighs never wanting to leave this table. “See you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow.”

Heading for the register he glances back at her and the nervousness has been replaced with joy, warming his heart to know he has something to do with it.

In less than a minute, Taeyong comes back from his break and Ten breathes in relief that he won’t see them talking. He doesn’t like going behind his friend’s back but if that’s what he has to do to get a real opportunity with her, so be it.

7pm just couldn’t come fast enough. Ten kept pacing around the house wondering if she’d like his outfit, the way he styled his hair, even his perfume. Maybe he should’ve went for something different, but what if she likes him just the way he is? Wait, does she even like him at all or was she just being polite?

With a frustrated sigh he goes outside to feed the cats and take a breather from the worries in his head. Just hearing the food hitting the containers he placed outside his house, cats start coming from all places and that instantly puts a smile on his face.

But it feels like something is missing. Where’s the new pink collared kitten? Could it be that it found its way home? Well that would certainly make him happy.

Speaking of happy, Ten glances at his watch. It’s still not time but it will take him a while to get downtown so he decides to get going.

His steps match up with the beating of his heart and before he notices he reaches the town’s square. He takes out his phone and it’s still not the time they agreed to meet so he decides to go sit down by the fountain and wait.

But as he’s approaching he sees a familiar figure. Sitting right at the edge, lightly tapping the water with her hand. What is she doing? Ten quietly walks up to her not to startle her. What should he say?

Lost in his thoughts his eyes widen when she suddenly turns to him. A smile blossoms through her lips as she gets up, wiping her hand on her skirt.

“Hi Ten.” His name coming from her lips sounds like a sweet melody.

“Hi.” He clears his throat to shake away the nervousness. “I’m sorry, did I keep you waiting?”

“No that’s alright, I was too excited so I came a little earlier.” She shyly admits.

Ten chuckles realising he’s not the only one.

“You hungry?” She nods at his question. “Where should we go then?”

“Have you ever been there?” He follows the line of her delicate hand that points to what looks like a nice restaurant at the rooftop of one of the buildings around the square.

Noticing his amazed expression she surprisingly takes his hand leading him towards the entrance.

“You’re gonna love it, they’ve got amazing fish!” She licks her lips with a grin and he can’t even say a word, hypnotised by her energy.

The elevator that takes them all the way to the top seems to move slower than time as Ten looks down at her hand that still casually holds his. With his heart pounding off his chest they enter the restaurant following the waiter to a table facing the whole city. Their hands finally separate as they sit down. Grabbing the menu he analyses the dishes widening his eyes at the prices.

“Wow, I didn’t realise this place was so…” He trails off thinking maybe he shouldn’t say it.

“Expensive?” She chuckles. “Don’t worry, I got it.”

A thousand butterflies flutter on his stomach as she winks at him. But upon registering her words, Ten shakes his head.

“No, no, I can’t let you do that-”

“Y/N!” He’s interrupted by a male voice. “Didn’t know you were coming today!”

“Don’t be so excited to see me Yangyang!” She giggles with the waiter. “Oh, this is Ten.”

“You look familiar… Don’t you work with Taeyong at the coffee shop?”

“Hm yeah.” Ten tilts his head remembering seeing the other guy a few times at his work place with his coworker.

“I knew it.” Yangyang smiles. “I’m guessing Taeyong doesn’t know about this?”

“And perhaps we can keep it that way?” She makes the most adorable expression Ten has ever seen, her eyes big, round and sparkly like a kitten-

“How can I ever resist you?” Yangyang bops her nose making her date slightly jealous of the interaction. “The usual?”

She nods and they both look at Ten waiting for his order.

“I-I’ll have the same.” He answers not even knowing what it is.

“Sure thing.” Yangyang takes the menus and turns around before he looks back. “Just be careful ok?”

“I promise.” She bows as they watch him walk away. “Sorry about that, Yangyang is another cousin of ours.”

“Oh ok.” Ten sighs in relief. “Guess being protective over you runs in the family right?”

“You could say that.” They both chuckle.

Dinner is spent talking and laughing, getting to know each other and he slowly realises that the initial attraction with this girl wasn’t just physical, there really is something about her and the more he gets to know her the more he wants to be with her.

“You were right, the fish was amazing.” Ten smiles as they walk around the city after dinner.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He happily sighs, never getting enough of her smile. “That’s one of my favourite spots in town.”

“It’s an amazing place.” He agrees. “Maybe next time I can show you one of my favourite places.”

“I’d love that.” She lightly touches his arm sending shivers down his body. “It’s getting late, I should go before Taeyong starts calling wondering where I am.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Can I walk you home?”

“As much as I want that, I don’t think it’s a great idea. For now.” She grins.

“Right, sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck.

“Goodnight Ten.” She leans forward planting a kiss on his cheek before skipping her way home.

With his face heating up he lifts a hand to touch the spot she kissed.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Was this night even real?

The next day Ten is full on daydream mode, mind stuck in the previous night and a silly smile stuck to his face. He barely got any sleep but that didn’t leave him tired with the amount of happiness inside him.

“Someone is in a good mood.” Taeyong teases, pulling him out of dreamland.

“What can I say? Life is good man.” The younger keeps happily wiping the counter.

“Damn boy. And what is the reason for this happiness?” Taeyong scooches closer nudging his side.

“W-well, hm…” Clearing his throat, Ten tries to play it cool. ”Nothing in particular.”

“Oh c’mon, I thought we were friends!” Taeyong shakes his shoulders back and forward.

“We a-are.” Ten stutters looking at the other boy.

“So why are you keeping things from me? C’mon Ten, tell me!” Taeyong pouts but suddenly a thought comes to his head and he gasps. “Is this because of someone? Are you perhaps in love?”

“I-”

Ding.

Saved by the bell. Right that moment someone opens the door at the coffee shop and Ten sighs in relief of not needing to have this conversation, he doesn’t want to lie to his friend but it’s best not to tell the truth either, at least not now.

But as he looks to the door his heart flips inside his chest. It’s her, the person he’s been thinking about all day. Her smile is something he wishes to see everyday but he needs to remember where he is and who he’s with, Taeyong just can’t know.

“I didn’t know you were coming today.” Taeyong says as he walks from behind the counter.

“Yeah, I was around and decided to drop by.” She says, shy smile hanging on her lips matching Ten’s as he tries to keep doing his job.

“Oh alright. Do you-” Taeyong stops mid-sentence, face getting serious before he grabs her arm and pulls her closer. “You need to go home. Now.”

“W-what? Wait why?” She asks, her frame sinking under his intimidating glare, his eyes changing into something scary but in a protective way.

“I said now!” He demands, raising his voice.

Ten glances around the place and thank god it was a chill hour and nobody was in the café. He looks back at the girl who was panting and he could swear he saw her signature beret move but he didn’t pay attention to that, he was more concerned about what the hell was happening.

“O-ok.” Her voice was small as she breaks free from Taeyong’s grasp to run out the door.

“What was that?” Ten carefully questions, trying not to upset his friend even more.

“Nothing. I’m gonna do inventory.” Without even a glance Taeyong disappears into the back of the shop leaving a very confused Ten at the register.

For a week he didn’t see her. At first he was wondering if he had done something wrong on their date but that couldn’t be it, not from the way she behaved. It had to be because of whatever happened between the two cousins. But what was it?

He couldn’t even explain the hole in his heart. How can he miss someone this bad when they’ve only known each other for such a short amount of time? He didn’t even have his new friend to bring a smile to his face, the cute kitten hasn’t been coming around for a while too and, although he thought it might be because it finally found its way home, he was worried something bad could’ve happened.

Out of desperation from how much he missed her, he decides to go to the rooftop restaurant they had gone to together and try to get some answers from their other cousin, because asking Taeyong was definitely out of question.

“Ten!” A smily Yangyang greets him as he walks through the door. “How are you? Should I get you a table?”

“No, no. I’m ok. Hm… I actually came here to ask you a question.” He tries to go straight to the point.

“Sure, how can I help you?” Yangyang keeps his approachable expression.

“I haven’t seen Y/N in a while.” Ten can see the other’s face slowly closing. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen her recently? I don’t know if she’s mad at me for some reason, maybe I did something wrong and didn’t realise or maybe-” He cuts himself off noticing he’s rambling. “I’m just worried and I wanted to know if she’s ok.”

“Look…” The waiter places his hand on the other’s shoulder. “There’s not much I can say besides the fact that she’s alright, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Letting his head fall forward, Ten lets out a sigh.

“I can tell her you asked if you want.” Their eyes meet again. “It’s the only thing I can do.”

“Thank you.” Ten’s voice comes almost as a whisper.

“No problem.” Yangyang gives him a last smile before watching Ten walk to the elevators.

And then he waited. He waited night and day, for almost another week. He even took extra shifts at the coffee shop in hopes to see her around but nothing. His heart was slowly breaking as time went by. Why is everybody being so secretive about whatever is going on with her?

The poor barista sighs as he closes the shop late at night. The streets are empty and only the sounds of the city can be heard. He zips up his jacket, hands on his pockets and makes his way home.

Ten.

He turns his face from side to side in confusion. Did somebody just call him? But there’s no one around. Damn, is he that insane that he’s hearing voices now?

Ten.

Again. No, this can’t be just in his head. Looking around again he notices a pair of yellowish eyes coming from an alley. What the hell could that be? Maybe he should run away, but like the main character from every horror movie he walks closer instead.

Upon entering the dark alley he can trace a figure emerging from behind some trash cans. Maybe he should run right about now. But he doesn’t, something is pulling him towards whoever or whatever this is.

The mysterious figure reaches a place with a little bit more light and he squints his eyes trying to recognise it, only to be pleasantly surprised.

“Y/N?” Ten calls out to make sure his mind wasn’t playing any tricks.

“Hi.” Her soft voice echos in his ears like a song he hasn’t listened to in forever.

Out of instinct he steps closer trapping her in his embrace, feeling her warmth against his body and finally sighing in relief.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the hug grabbing her shoulders at arms length and looking deep into her eyes. “What happened? I was so worried.”

“Can we go for a walk?” She simply asks making him nod.

Only steps are heard as they walk into the streets of the suburban area. He’s not sure what to say and she’s not saying anything as well. But nevertheless, at least she’s here with him and that’s good enough for his heart.

Unknowingly they walk by a park and decide to sit down for a bit. The distance between them is painful but he wants to respect her space. Ten watches her as she looks at the starts in the sky, almost as if getting the thoughts organised in her head.

“Yangyang said you dropped by looking for me.” She finally speaks.

“I did…” He admits. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I was just worried about you.”

“That’s ok. It’s good to know you care about me.” At last a smile brightens her face.

“I do care about you.” He reinforces. “A lot.”

“Why?” He widens his eyes at her question.

“Well… Honestly? I don’t know how to explain.” She turns to him, looking into his eyes but now it was his time to look away. “What I feel when I’m with you… It’s something I never felt before. It’s like you have this energy that pulls me in and I want to let myself be dragged into it. I know we haven’t met each other that long ago but sometimes it feels like I’ve known you all my life. Sorry, that was a bit too deep.”

“So you feel it too?” She interrupts his nervous laugh.

“What do you mean ‘too’?” He wonders out loud.

“There’s something I want to tell you.” He looks at her curiously. “But I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m…” She sighs before continuing. “I’m scared of getting hurt or hurting you. I’m scared I’ll screw things up. I’m scared of losing you.”

“Hey,” he slowly reaches for her hand that rests on the bench between them, “I’m not going anywhere, you can trust me with anything.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle under the moonlight making his heart beat faster than it was already before.

“Yes.” Ten brings out his most sincere smile.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” She glances to the side as if feeling like she’s being watched.

He blushes at the request, mentally slapping himself for the inappropriate thoughts. Following her steps they’re led right to his house. Taking her inside he gestures for her to sit on the couch. He now sits closer than before, eagerly waiting for the big reveal.

”I don’t even know where to start…” She mumbles.

“Take your time, I’m right here.” Ten reassures her, taking her hand again.

“Ok.” She takes a deep breath. “This might sound really cliché but… I’m not like other girls.”

“I know, you’re so much special.” He smiles.

“That’s a little more literal than you think…” She sighs.

“What do you mean?” Cocking his head to the side he gets confused.

“I’m… I’m a…” She starts to say.

“You’re a what?” He tries to help her.

“It’s better if I show you.” Removing her hand from his hold she slowly removes the beret from her head.

“Didn’t you wear those when we met?” He points to the fluffy cat ears emerging from between her locks.

“I did.” This does not clarify him as he hoped. “But I also wore them every time we met after that.”

“What do you mean? I never saw you with them after that night.”

“Well I keep them hidden under the beret.” She looks down.

“Then why do you wear it if you’re hiding them?”

“Because I…” She bites her lip. “I can’t take them off.”

“You can’t take them off? How come?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“They’re part of me.” This time he’s 100% sure he saw one of the ears move.

“H-how?” Widening his eyes he points at it.

“There’s no easy way to say this so…” With eyes closed she takes a deep breath before looking at him. “Ten, I’m a werecat.”

“A were-what?” He slightly moves away from her.

“A werecat.” She lowers her head.

“What’s that?” He had never heard the term before.

“Well, you’re familiar with werewolves right? It’s basically the same thing but instead of wolfs we turn into cats-”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…” Interrupting her, he gets up a takes a few steps back from the couch shaking his head. “Werewolves? What do you mean werewolves? They’re not real, they’re made up creatures from ancient tales, there’s no way-”

Noticing her broken expression he stops talking. If this was that hard for her to admit maybe there’s some truth to it.

“Unless… They’re real?” A questions he’s not sure he wants the answer to.

“There’s a lot of creatures out there that humans think aren’t real.” She adds.

“Like w-werecats?” He suggests.

“Like werecats.” She confirms.

“Ok, so… If you’re like a werewolf but turn into a cat instead, shouldn’t that only happen on full moons?” He walks to the window searching the starry sky only to find a crescent moon.

“That’s not everyone’s reality.” She explains. “If someone curses you to turn into a werecat yes, that’s the case. But not if you’re born like this.”

“Does that mean your parents are also…” It’s still unreal for him to say the word.

“My dad. Not my mom.”

“Is she human?” He curiously questions.

“Was.” From the sad expression on her face he gets the message.

“I’m so sorry.” He sits back down on the couch. “Was it recent?”

“No, she passed away when she gave birth to me.” Her face hangs low as she explains. “Bearing an un-human child was too much for her fragile body so she didn’t resist. Her family always blamed my dad for what happened, for taking her away from them, marking her and stealing her life. But that’s not true!”

She looks at him with tears in her eyes and he feels a pain in his chest, like all her feelings were running through his veins as if he lived everything himself.

“My dad used to tell me wonderful stories of how they met and how he always knew she was the one.” A weak smile breaks between her wet cheeks. “From the moment he saw her, he felt like he wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side. When born a werecat you are able to decide when you turn but with her he just couldn’t control it.”

Ten notices her ear twitch and then he remembers what she said earlier. ‘But I also wore them every time we met after that.’

“My dad shot his shot and confessed to my mom.” She continues. “He explained everything about being a werecat and then he told her how he felt.”

‘There’s something I want to tell you.’

‘Ten, I’m a werecat.’

“And just like fate she always felt something special for him too, so they decided to give it a chance.”

‘I know we haven’t met each other that long ago but sometimes it feels like I’ve known you all my life.’

”They were so happy the time they were together, even if they had to run away from my mom’s family. When they found out they were expecting me it was just another validation of their love but… Things got complicated. Her family not only blames my father for her death but they blame me too. Since that day they’ve hunted us down wherever we went. He managed to run away with me for a long time but it was getting harder and harder so he found a pack willing to hide and protect me as he… He… He took the fall for us. For me.”

Sinking her face into her hands she breaks down.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.” Ten slowly moves closer caressing her back with his hand, as tears form in his eyes.

“Taeyong and Yangyang are not my real cousins. They’re part of the pack.” She wipes her cheeks with her sleeve. “Loyalty is very important to us and that’s why they’re so protective.”

“So Taeyong is a werecat too?” He quickly realises.

“Ah…” She bites her lip having spoiled his secret too. “Yes…”

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry.” He promises. “But now that I think of it, does this have something to do with what happened the other day at the coffee shop?”

“Oh that…” She sighs. “Twice a year female werecats go into heat, that lasts about a week, and I apparently entered mine without realising.”

“Heat?” He asks confused, making her chuckle.

“It’s our fertile period.” Looking away from him she starts explaining. “During that time we have a different smell humans can’t detect, but male werecats feel an uncontrollable desire to mate, so we usually go into hiding to avoid it.”

“That explains a lot.” He leans his back against the couch.

“And during that time I did a lot of thinking.” She turns to him.

“About what?”

“About you. About us.” He gulps. “Ten, the way my dad felt about my mom… That’s how I feel about you.”

Not a second later his lips crash against hers. It’s a sweet innocent kiss that she slowly reciprocates as she relaxes under his touch.

“I want to be with you.” He whispers as their lips part. “I know it’s not going to be easy, there’s a lot a need to understand about you and your world but I’m willing to do it because days are unbearable if I don’t see you.”

“Are you sure?” Tears wheel up on her eyes.

“I was never so sure about anything in my life.”

From that day on, the two started to secretly date. Ten searched everything there was on the internet about werecats, even stumbling on some fictional stories that brought heat to his cheeks and made him abruptly close his laptop. Unfortunately he doesn’t remember enough from the first night they spent together to know if any of this is true and it would be too embarrassing to ask her, but the memory of the scratch marks on his back give him a faint clue.

The biggest mission was hiding everything from Taeyong. It’s hard to stop the smile whenever she walks into the coffee shop or slow the beating of his heart when their fingers touch as he hands her the latte he always prepares for her. And he could also see how her beret keeps moving when they meet, recalling the beautiful set of ears she has underneath and the tail that threatens to peek under her skirt.

But luckily Taeyong doesn’t seem to notice anything. Not even when she sneaks up for their late night dates or when Ten offers to close the shop alone so they can meet once Taeyong has gone home. So luckily no friendship was being compromised by their relationship. At least not yet.

“Sorry for this, I really don’t know what’s happening with that computer.” Taeyong sighs.

“No problem at all.” Ten smiles as he tries to get rid of whatever virus got into his friend’s laptop.

Taeyong gets up and walks around Ten’s living room waiting for him to do his magic.

“Hey, what’s this?” He grabs a piece of paper from a desk and his face drops into a frown.

“Oh, that kitten showed up a few weeks ago and it had a collar so I was trying to see if the owner would step up but it hasn’t been coming around for a while so I guess it found it’s way home-” Ten starts explaining but stops as the other fleds through the door, flyer crumbled in his hand, leaving his things behind. “Wait up, where are you going?”

Taeyong keeps pacing down the street without replying to his co-worker that chases after him. But as they turn the corner, a familiar face appears.

“What the hell is this?” Taeyong’s scary voice makes a come back as he almost shoves the ‘Missing Cat’ sign on her face.

“How-” She tries to ask but he cuts her off again.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why is Ten hanging these flyers?” Taeyong got closer and closer and she felt so small under his figure.

“I always t-took them down so nobody would see. Taeyong, I can e-explain…” She stutters.

“How can you explain this?” He lets out a frustrated laugh. “Does he know about you?”

“K-kinda off…” She murmurs.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re insane!” He grabs her shoulder making her whimper as the pendant on her necklace hits her chest. “Might as well just yell to the world who you are!”

Then the pieces connect in Ten’s head. The pink necklace with the heart pendant. He knew he had seen it before, he just never thought it wouldn’t be in a person but in a cat. She is the kitten that showed up in his house that he’s been trying to help find its way home. And she’s also the saboteur who kept taking the posters down.

“It’s not like that, Ten’s different.” She explains while trying to break free of Taeyong’s grip.

“What?” He yells. “What the hell is going on between you two?”

“We’re in love.” Ten finally steps forward having been quiet through the whole discussion.

Her eyes widen at his words. They had never clarified the feeling before but it just feels so right coming from his lips. She knows he’s right. But then again Taeyong is right there and he shouldn’t know.

“You’re what?” Taeyong glares at his friend as he furrows his brows. “Look man, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do.” Ten steps closer with firm words. “I’m in love with Y/N and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Listen friend,” Taeyong emphasises the word as he points his finger to him, “you don’t know what you’re getting into. Just forget about her.”

“I can’t.” Ten insists. “I’m too hooked.”

“This is unbelievable…” Taeyong mutters before turning back to his cousin. “Why do you want to ruin his life like this? You’re just gonna get you both hurt. And the pack.”

“I’m sorry…” She apologises between tears before turning around and running back to where she came from.

“Y/N, wait!” Ten tries to chase her but is stopped by Taeyong.

“Forget about all this. You two can never be together.”

“No, I can’t accept that.” Brushing the boy out of his way, Ten runs after her, not sure where to go but he needs to find her.

He searches the whole town but no luck, she’s nowhere to be found. Defeated he goes back home to find Taeyong’s things gone, he must have come back to get them while he was desperately looking for his girlfriend. Laying flat in bed, Ten recalls the crazy afternoon as the darkness of the night shadows his mind.

The next day he goes to his shift but there’s no sign of Taeyong. ‘He quit this morning’, their manager tells him as he had to cover the shift himself due to the short notice.

When the clock marks his off hour he rushes through the door focused on going to Taeyong’s place but then he remembers he never knew where the boy lived. How did he never suspect his friend’s secretive behaviour?

Texting everybody they know, Ten tries hard to find out the address but no one seems to have that information. Groaning in despair, he thinks to give up but then an idea pops up in his head.

He runs as fast as he can, taking a deep breath as the elevator ascends. His eyes search the room but unfortunately they don’t find the one he’s looking for.

“Excuse me,” he approaches a waiter, “I’m looking for someone who works here. Yangyang, that’s his name.”

“Oh, unfortunately YangYang stopped working here this morning.” The man explains with a sad look on his face. “A terrible loss for the restaurant, he was a great colleague.”

“I see…” Ten almost whispers, but he needs to know why. “Did he perhaps gave a reason for leaving? I mean, he looked like he loved working here.”

“Well,” luckily his excuse for asking is enough for the man to talk, “apparently he and his family moved to a different city. Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said this, I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m sorry to bother.” Trying hard to hold his tears, Ten exits the building.

Luckily that waiter had a big mouth and he finally knows what happened but the answer was not what he wanted. A mix of feelings build up inside him and he feels like he’s going to explode at any minute. What can he do now? How can he find them? All their phones are turned off and he has no idea where they went.

Minutes feel like hours, days feel like weeks. Ten finds himself locked in his house, not knowing how to deal with this excruciating pain he’s been feeling. He only leaves for work but even there he can’t bring the bright personality the clients love to see so he gets put on the back of the coffee shop with a threat to get fired if he doesn’t snap out of it.

It’s been weeks since he last saw her and the worst thing is that he didn’t even have an opportunity to say goodbye. Or to take her hand and run away from everything together.

Another sleepless night haunts him as he no longer has tears left to cry. But suddenly he hears a tap on the window. Turning his head his jaw drops as he rushes to open it and let the kitten he hasn't seen for weeks inside. As it jumps into the house it slowly morphs into her, the one he misses the most. Blinking rapidly he almost can't believe his eyes, he had never seen her transform like this.

"Hi." She timidly greets after dusting off her clothes with her hands.

"It's you." He whispers before pulling her into his embrace. "I missed you so much it hurt.”

"I know, I felt it too." She murmurs into the crook of his neck.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He pulls away to admire the face he kept dreaming of.

"That was the plan. But I couldn't do it.” She sighs. “I'm so weak when it comes to you. I... I didn't get a chance to say it at the time but... I love you too, Ten. So, so much.”

"Please tell me there's a way we can be together." He pleas looking deep into her eyes as he searches for a trace of hope.

"There is…” She steps back from his embrace, gaze on the floor. ”But it's irreversible, I need to know this is really what you want."

"I'll say it as many times as I have to.” He walks to her taking her hand. “I can no longer picture my life without you, these weeks destroyed my soul. Y/N, tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

"Are you sure?” Her eyes sparkle as she looks back at him.

“Please." He begs.

“There’s this thing that can immortalise the bond we have.” She moves to stand by the window she came in, now closed. “Marking and-”

“Mating.” He finishes her sentence. “I read about it. We mark each other and then we mate. Does it work with humans too?”

“It does if there’s a full moon.”

Looking outside they both stare and the round bright moon shinning through the darkness of the sky. He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What are we waiting for?” He whispers. “It’s not like we never mated before.”

“Ten!” She giggles feeling her cheeks burn up.

“I know consent is important for this,” he turns her around in his arms to face him, “so I’m telling you now. I want this. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. Forever.”

“I want that too.”

Lips join in a passionate kiss as bodies guide themselves into the bedroom. Ten’s shirt comes off on the way as well as her cardigan that reveals her bare shoulders. He sits down in the mattress pulling her to his lap and giving her a last peck before separating their mouths to look into her eyes.

“Ready?” She examines his face.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He smiles.

“This is going to sting a bit but you have to stay still ok?” He nods taking a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She opens her mouth leaving Ten mesmerised by her long sharp canines that quickly move to pierce the skin on his shoulder. A loud groan his heard as he grips her waist trying to ignore the pain that doesn’t compare to anything he ever felt before.

Quickly his head feels lightweight, like he’s about to pass out, until a sudden rush of energy runs through his veins making the flesh of her exposed shoulder that’s so near his face look so desirable. As if by animal instinct he too opens his mouth to take a bite, making her moan into his skin.

After what felt like ages, their mouths finally detach from each others bodies leaving a reddish mark behind. They look into each others eyes before succumbing into their most deep desires as they move on to the next part of the plan.

Memories of their first night together finally come back to Ten’s head as they move in sync, but this time with a special flavour making it seem like this moment was always destined. Later that night their tired sweaty figures cuddle agains each other as they drift to a well deserved sleep.

The first rays of sunshine in the morning awaken him into a new reality. A smile breaks through his face as the first thing he sees is her. He gently pets her hair and almost melts at the purrs she lets out.

His eyes then drift to her shoulder where a beautiful mark shines though her skin resembling a flower blossoming from her. Carefully he looks at his own shoulder tracing with his fingers the same design that is now embedded on him forever.

Loud bangs on the front door abruptly disturb the peaceful morning and wake up the feline that was still sleeping.

“Open up, Ten! I know she’s in there!” The lovers exchange a look as a familiar voice is heard.

“Please don’t open.” The girl begs tugging on Ten’s arm as he starts to get up.

“He’s gonna break the door and the neighbours will call the police, I have to.” He explains grabbing some clothes off the floor to cover his naked body. “Look, it’s gonna be ok, will get through this. Together.”

Ten kisses the mark on her shoulder before heading to the door. She grabs his top sheet wrapping it around her body before following him through the house as the banging continues.

“Where is she?” Taeyong pushes past Ten almost throwing him to the floor but stops a few steps inside.

He sniffles the air and something smells different. That’s when he sees his cousin and notices the shiny mark on her shoulder.

“You went through with it?” He calmly says contrasting with the angry state he was in just moments ago.

“I’m sorry Taeyong, but if this doesn’t show you how much we mean to each other I don’t know what will.” She tries to make him understand what she has been attempting to tell him since they left the city.

“Maybe I still don’t fully know what I’m getting into,” Ten stands next to his soulmate, “but I’ll spend the rest of my days figuring it out. By her side.”

Taeyong stays quiet leaving the couple wondering what’s going to happen next. But unexpectedly he steps forward and hugs the one who had always been his friend and now became something more.

“I’m sorry for being such an ass.” Taeyong smiles. “Welcome to the family.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

#cznnet #nctcreations #ten fluff #ten angst #nct fluff #nct angst #wayv fluff #wayv angst #chittaphon fluff #chittaphon angst

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magicpotatoobsession · 3 years ago

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GIVEN | Uenoyama Ritsuka the Munchkin Cat

I thought it might be fun to analyse Ue's personality based on his stand, the traits of the Munchkin cat because WHY THE HECK NOT BAHAHA 😂😂😂

I'm sure most of you already know what a stand is but just to rehash according to the official translators,

"The stand is a supernatural power unique to the manga series Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. It is an entity physically generated by it's proprietor - generally referred to as a "Stand User". It is viewed as a physical manifestation of an individual's innate "fighting spirit" and embodies, to an extent, the individual's psyche."

Love the Jojo reference Kizu, I love how she always shamelessly references other manga. We love a mangaka who just owns that she's a fangirl of other mangas.

---

Ue definitely embodies the munchkin cat to a tee.

They love attention from their favourite people.

"Munchkin cats are not lone creatures and loves attention." says Marilyn Krieger, certified cat behaviour consultant.

This literally goes without saying for Ue because he is SUCH an attention seeker LOL even though he would never admit it himself. I mean the moment Mafuyu stopped following him around like a lost puppy, this is what happened BAHAHAHAH

sociable

"Munchkin cats are quite sociable creatures. They are an easygoing breed who gets along well with dogs and other cats."

I mean it goes without saying that Ue loves our Pomeranian boi Mafuyu and even though it seems like Ue and Hiiragi butt heads LOL,

they are super in sync with their music.

People definitely seem to just naturally congregate around Ue even though he is a bit of a moody sleepy boi but for the most part, we often see Ue being quite social, eating lunch with his friends and hanging out. In Chapter 6, Mafuyu mentions to Akihiko that Ue is quite popular at school. Itaya even complains in Chapter 7, "Why is Ue so popular?" Ue's popularity however isn't because he's traditionally charismatic but because as Mafuyu points out,

"Ue's genuinely really kind to everyone."

Ue also is constantly referred to as the typical "Ikemen" type because he naturally just oozes this protective and willing-to-give-a-helping-hand-without-anything-in-return vibe, even when he has absolutely no idea as to what he is doing LOL

loving and affectionate

Munchkin cats are incredibly physically affectionate towards their owners. Ue is such a ~Tsundere~ LOL but he such an affectionate bean. I mean we all know Mafuyama fluff so let's look at how he engages with other characters. Ue's love language is absolutely

physical touch.

The moment Ue saw Kasai crying and apologising, Ue's naturally defaults to giving Kasai a head-pat SO CUTE (>////<)

The moment Ue received blessing from Haruki for Mafuyama to start dating, it's like he can't help but show his gratitude by giving Mama Haruki a hug THAT SCENE HAD ME ROLLIN'

vocal when necessary

"Munchkin cats aren't the type to be super vocal and annoyingly loud. Only when they 1) need something out of necessity or when they 2) really crave affection."

1) Ue is absolutely one of those people who only talks when necessary. He is not a gossiper and he means exactly what he says. Once Ue's at ease around someone, he doesn't feel the need to keep the conversation going, he is happy to sit in comfortable silence and just enjoy their company. For example, if we observe conversations between Ue and Mafuyu, they are not the type to keep talking for no reason. Once he gets comfortable sitting beside Mafuyu, he can just enjoy Mafuyu's presence (provided that he doesn't die from gay-panic LOLLLL).

2) And oh my....no wonder he made such a fuss in Chapter 18/Given OVA!

Our munchkin cat really needed some physical affection from Mafuyu after not seeing him for so long T_T

Gotta get that classroom kiss from Pomeranian boi otherwise Ue's not gonna stop purring 😆😆😆

---

highly intelligent

"Munchkin cats are highly intelligent."

It goes without saying that Ue is really smart. Haruki mentions in Chapter 17 that Ue doesn't really study and scores mid-range at his highschool, which is presumably a really competitive highschool to get into. Also he does well in all the science and maths subjects!!!

Ok this is the part that's interesting....

"Munchkin cats can be trained 1) to fetch and even walk on a leash. Krieger says "they respond well 2) to clicker training with ample positive reinforcement."

1) Ue is 100% a fetcher

That boi can RUNNNNN when it comes to fetching some new strings for our cinnamon roll Mafuyu! Work those legs my boi 😂❤️

2) Ue also respond VERY WELL to AMPLE POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT

Akihiko has cracked it! BRUHHhh... is

Akihiko training Ue??!!!!

Holy shit everything makes sense, I mean look at this,

HOLY SHIT look at JUST HOW MUCH UE looks up to AKIHIKO!!! Guys, it's been decided.

Ue is Akihiko's munchkin cat 😹

---

If you like what you read, all I post is basically Given analysis content. Give my blog a follow to be notified of future posts! #metapotato

Masterlist of my Given metas

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malereader-inserts · 4 years ago

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Finding You

Fandom: Haikyuu Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Male!Reader Summary: You’ll always find each other, almost as if you’re destined to play together or against each other. Word Count: 1,015 Request: @crunchyhanie “I'd love it if you could write something about Kageyama x boyfriend!reader. If possible from the time when Kags got the King of the Court title until his first year in Karasuno. We all know how devastated Kags was when he tosses but no one is there to spike it – aaaaand this is where the reader came in and they became boyfriends I guess ?? hhhh I don't really have a specific plot for this, I just want some Kageyama fluffs for myself T_T” A/n: Sorry it’s not as fluffy

Kageyama remembers when he first met you, you had watched his match of devastation. You had met him in the hallway, there was a charming smile and you were in the same year as him. You were the ace of your junior school and the captain of it. Whilst Kageyama was scowling, almost unapproachable, you stopped to look at him.

“I’ll find you, Kageyama-kun!” You exclaimed when he looks at you, he knows your school, but he never got the chance to play you, “I’ll always be there to hit your sets!”

“(L/n)-senpai,” one of your kouhai’s tugged your volleyball jacket, “Coach wants us.”

You turned back to Kageyama and gave him the brightest smile he has ever seen. You had a lot of talks, just like Kageyama. Your school was Chidoriyama Junior High, it was already a powerhouse school with players moving on with their volleyball careers. You were the talk of the potentials of young aces, you weren’t really concerned in that title.

But, when Kageyama saw that look in your face, he felt different. His sister says it was love at first sight, but he doesn’t believe it. He spent the rest of his junior year passing by, excited to cross paths. When he arrived on his first day at high school, he was busy getting annoyed with Hinata.

“Kageyama-kun!” The two of them stop to turn to look at the new person at the door, Kageyama’s heart swore it sore up high, “I found you!”

He was like you remembered, loud and ecstatic, especially when Nishinoya returned to the club.

“Noya-senpai!” The libero looked over and beamed.

“It’s my kouhai ace!” Noya jumped to give you a hug, seeming that everyone understood you went to the same junior school, “You’ve grown since I have last seen you!”

“And you haven’t.”

“Why you little-” Noya giving you a jab to the side whilst Tanaka and Sugawara were laughing, liking their addition to the team.

As months passed, the team getting stronger, you and Kageyama fell in love. Whilst Kageyama and Hinata had amazing plays, when you were on the court, the way you two had synced up was unbelievable - a dangerous duo. You were efficient in creating, on the line, line shot and supercross shots. You had a high jumping reach and always there for Kageyama’s quick.

“You can always count on me, Kags.”

“I know.”

You were often switched out for Tanaka or Daichi, you were obviously Nishinoya’s pupil, so you were always a reliable receiver. Hinata was jealous at times, that you could always look at Kageyama and he understood what you mean. It was the main reason why you and Kageyama could be terrifying on the court with the fact nothing needs to be said and actions will be louder.

Hinata saw you as a rival, with the fact that you were clearly high up on the list of the next ace after Tanaka. Yeah, you had a lot to learn, but you were ready. By your third year, you made it clear that you intend to sit on the first rank of aces where Sakusa sits at the moment. You and Kageyama got closed, the boys cheered when you two turned up to practice holding hands, Kageyama blushing and you smiling brightly.

One day when you arrived at school, Kageyama was waiting with you at the front, you were a little out of breath because you got of bed late.

“Hey, I found you.”

“I’m not hard to spot,” Kageyama replied, as you shrugged your shoulders, taking the food out of his hand, taking a bite, “Hey! That’s mine.”

“It’s mine now, Kag-kun.”

The two of you walk together, knowing that later you have practice, you waved him goodbye to him as you meet your classmates as he meets up Hinata. Kageyama smiles to himself, thinking about you. He doesn’t know how it happens really, you were always by his side, from the Tokyo training camp to each match.

You were there to defend him from Oikawa, even managed to shut him up when you had to serve whilst subbing in for Tanaka. Your jump serves could rival Kageyama’s. You walked home together, you messaged each other often. Sometimes, on weekends, you two would meet to play receives.

Miwa teases him all time about you and him, that she was right about it being love at first sight. Miwa also loves you to bits, you were different from Tobio’s personality, but, sometimes Miwa can see her little brother revert back to his childlike self she has dearly missed after their grandfather had passed away.

“What about me?”

“Uh, sorry, Hinata, only Kageyama and (L/n) was invited to All-Japan.”

You two high-fived behind Hinata, always rare to see Kayegama do anything affectionate to team-mates, but you seem to bring it out of him naturally. Whilst you and he walked home together, you talked about the future.

“We’re not even third years, (Y/n)-san,” Kageyama said munching on a pork bun.

You shrugged your shoulders, “So? Look at us, we’re heading to the top, how can I not imagine our future? We’ll go to the Olympics! We’ll be in the professional teams.”

“We’ll be in different teams, most likely.”

You looked at your boyfriend, tilting your head, making you both stop your walking, “And? I’d love to play against you again. We never did it last year, and I intend on blocking all your sets till your frustrated.”

“You’re annoying...” But, Kageyama laughs, he smiles so vibrantly, “Okay, we’ll play against each other, one day, I’ll find you.”

“Just like I found you?”

Kageyama smiles further, “I’ll crush you.”

“Sure, you will, Kag-Kun! Even if our teams are across the world, we’ll find each other, right?”

“I don’t intend on losing you.”

You chuckled, you grabbed his hand to continue walking, you lead the way home, your next words started something in Kageyama’s mind as if he locked it away for future references. You gave him a promise, straight from your heart.

“You won’t lose me.”

#tobio kageyama x male reader #kageyama x male reader #kageyama imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x male reader #x male reader

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sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

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dolce (sweetly, softly, gently)

* pairing: accompanist/violinist!katsuki bakugou x violinist!reader (gender neutral!) ft kamijirou

* genre: fluff, kinda angst, enemies to lovers, classical musician au hehe

* words: 9.5k (holy crap, this was a rollercoaster to write)

* warnings: swearing bc not only does bakugou exist, he is a prominent character, brief viola/second violinist jokes (reader’s words not mine), poor rosins being dropped :(

* a/n: SO this is very late for @prettysetterbaby‘s v-day collab!! pls check out all the other talented writers involved >< jj is an ANGEL for putting up with me being late T_T there’s some violin terminology in here but it’s fine if you don’t understand it! more notes at the end aha

* playlist (spotify in source link): violin sonata no.9, op.47 in a major “kreutzer” (beethoven) ; liebesfreud (kriesler) ; violin partita no.3 in e major (bach) ; duo concertante for 2 violins no.3 in d-sharp major, op.57 (beriot) ; clair de lune (debussy) ; duo for 2 violins in d-major, op.67, no.2 (spohr) ; 24 caprices op.1, no.24 in a minor (paganini)

* synopsis: being a soloist is not made easy by your new accompanist, bakugou. you step on each other’s toes when playing - but that’s alright, he’s just a pianist. you’re separated in your two worlds of musical instruments, until one day, you’re not. bakugou traverses over realms like a simple string crossing, and there’s a lot more he’s brought with him.

a double stop in violin is a technique in which two notes are played simultaneously. played correctly, one violin playing two notes should sound like two violins playing separate notes. if your life was a violin, you only needed double stops to play it. you'd perfected the art of being alone, playing the parts of two in your sad solo sonata. you were so, so sure you could compose and play for the whole orchestra - a symphony that would surely please the audience.

you were wrong. after all, a double stop has its limits as well, impossible to play with an interval of larger than a tenth. you were content with your double stops and playing by yourself. this was how you won countless competitions - what good would changing anything be?

you were born a soloist, or that's what your parents would say. you never followed the crowd, sticking to your own mind and doing what was true to you. you never worked well in an orchestra setting (and who knew what would become of you if you ever landed in second violin!). thus, you became a soloist, determined to keep the spotlight on you. it was you and your perfection that kept the eyes of the audience transfixed; you were desperate to keep their focus enraptured by every slight movement of your bow, every shift in finger position on the fingerboard. you wanted them to follow every dynamic and tempo change like their life depended on it, feel their emotion spark the moment your bow pressed a string. you were the only one on stage, an entertainer and an artist to the audience. you brought joy and sorrow through key changes and wonder through glissandos and held suspense with every tremolo. the audience was yours for an entire piece, for a story, for a lifetime.

oh, and there was the accompanist. what was his name again? batsugou? bakugou. the last part was a joke, of course. you'd never forget the man who ruined your first recital overseas.

katsuki bakugou was quickly made your accompanist after the previous one quit last minute and schedule clashes between any other potential candidates rendered them unable to travel with you. no one in their right mind would've come along on a plane to play a piano accompaniment for you. indeed, bakugou was not in his right mind. his name was prominent locally, an orchestral prodigy with the gift of perfect pitch since the tender age of thirteen. he never ventured internationally, though given the chance multiple times to do so. you could never understand why he never took any of the opportunities. you'd jump at any chance of expanding your musical horizons and performing for a larger audience, so it frustrated you to see someone with such potential to throw away possibly beneficial opportunities. not that you really paid much attention to him, anyway. bakugou was a pianist, and you were a violinist. you only cared about competition, not those with blessings you could only dream of achieving.

the months leading to your recital, bakugou had gone quiet. well, you didn't know him personally, so it was news of him that had gone practically radio silent. he was no longer featured in news articles or even pinned on bulletin boards for upcoming recitals. there were no updates from him on social media, too. not that you really paid attention, anyway. he was a prodigy, gifted naturally with talent, and you were a violinist.

an ambitious violinist, at that. you had dreams to perform anywhere out of the stifling air of japan. even to fly a short distance to south korea would be amazing, because it meant you'd be outside of japan. you worked towards this goal tirelessly. you dreamed of stepping on a plane, violin case in your right hand and your dreams in another, to fly to another country and perform. you wished to see the talent beyond your own bubble and feel the music resonate in an auditorium in a different way than it did in japan.

one day, that dream was realized. your violin case in one hand and dreams in another, you boarded the plane flying out of japan full of hope and the faith that good days were coming. while yes, you didn't expect to step out of that plane with anyone but your old accompanist, momo, bakugou's presence comforted you in the foreign atmosphere. for the first ten minutes, he said not a word to you but made it a point to speak to everyone else he could in what seemed like very convincingly fluent english.

to which you finally mustered up the courage to say, in japanese, "i thought you didn't travel internationally."

his japanese voice was a comforting sound. "i don't. this is my first time out of japan."

you stared at him like he just said he ate babies for breakfast (which seemed just as astronomically insane as him never stepping foot out of japan).

"but-" you stuttered. "your english is so good?"

"only because you can't understand it."

to be fair, he had a point. you could only say the basics, like, "hi," "how are you?", "i'm fine, and you?," and the ever-so useful, "do you speak japanese? my english is not good." he appeared to never use any of these phrases, so he was a god in english compared to you.

it was a miracle you navigated out of the airport with your luggage in hand and a general idea of how to get to the hotel you'd booked. you're not going to talk about the events in the hotel, though. sharing a bed with bakugou was a whole different story that consisted of him complaining about your phone usage at eleven pm and you complaining about his lack of sufficient english skills to be able to get the right hotel room (which he'd retort by saying "at least i speak english!").

the path to your first international competition was rocky, so understandably by the day of the performance, your metaphorical feet were sore and you only had water on your metaphorical mind. that is to say, you hadn't practiced with bakugou once until the day before the performance. said rehearsal was cut short due to misunderstandings as a result of bakugou's apparent not-so-fluency in english. you felt bad for him at this point.

and then you were up on stage, violin in one hand, bow in the other, and arms full of your childhood aspirations. also, definitely not prepared enough. you glanced once at bakugou before beginning and he looked confident enough. the lesson you learned that day was that looks can be deceiving.

something you could remember quite clearly was the way the spotlight shined on the varnish of your instrument as you held it, propped between your chin and shoulder. you focused on this shine before taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, and praying muscle memory would take over and you'd play the piece faithfully to the score.

you liked to think your playing was accurate. you, the soloist, were the main focus of the piece. the accompaniment made the piece richer and fuller, complementing the violin beautifully while keeping attention on said violin. the thing was, bakugou, like you, played like a soloist.

the performance was like a fight, and sadly not the graceful kind you'd see in a ballet. it was gory and a nuance to the ears, melodic tinkling of the piano becoming tears of a soldier dying in combat. at parts, you clashed by overshadowing the other by playing too loudly. sometimes it was you, and sometimes it was bakugou. it was a merciless game of tag; bakugou would be running to keep up with your playing; once achieving so, you were forced to start chasing after him. you can't exactly remember if he played well, though. for certain, he was not in sync with you, but you were mainly too preoccupied with your own playing to pay attention to his. listening to the recording of the performance, you were unable to evaluate his quality of playing properly, and thus, he remained your accompanist even when you returned to japan.

(actually, the biggest reason he stayed your accompanist was because of your classical musician friends' nagging. they were all in complete awe that the famous soloist, katsuki bakugou, had offered to be your accompanist, and begged for an autograph. of course, you declined.)

you figured that like you, bakugou was a soloist. he wasn't fit to assist your playing, far more suited to his own solos to entrance the audience with only his playing. being a soloist, he played like one too - that's simply how things worked. this understanding of him, though, still couldn't stop you from harbouring a small grudge against him for ruining your international debut.

and then there was the man himself, all standoffish and rough in words and persona. obscenities had no hesitation coming (thrust!) from his mouth. he yelled brashly and frequently and it astonished you that he was a classical musician, as most of your friends of the classical music profession were typically on the quiet, softer spoken side. those that were extroverts were optimistically so, in far contrast to bakugou, who you'd expect from looks alone to be playing in some heavy metal band. it was scary to hear his renditions of debussy's dreamy, serendipitous pieces when over your earbuds, he was yelling at some guy named "shitty hair" on his phone. you were curious how he looked recording the piece.

you didn't typically communicate, though. conversation, which only ever existed during rehearsal, was a question from you and a clipped grunt in response. there was nothing else to your relation; he played his part, and you played yours. sometimes you did this simultaneously, but it was as if you were playing two completely different things. performance, according to your friends, was now stilted. this was partially the reason you stopped listening to recorded performances. it wasn’t even like you’d ever derived pleasure from listening to them - you only nitpicked your mistakes.

your old accompanist, momo, on the other hand, was an absolute angel. she was kind, polite, and skilled on the piano, fingers dancing over the keys like a graceful ballet. you fit well with her; each performance was like a delightful conversation between friends, pleasant on the ears and twinkling with joy and laughter. with her, every performance felt like something resembling victory, even if it wasn’t a competition. to you, winning the audience’s gaze was enough.

then again, you didn't feel that you could judge quite yet. momo was your accompanist for years, and you could barely remember how the two of you sounded when you first started out. bakugou had been your accompanist for mere months (though it did feel much, much longer considering how frustrating he could be). you couldn't understand why he became your accompanist at all.

opposites. it was an accurate representation of your relationship with bakugou. he was a pianist, you weren't. he was a prodigy, you weren't. he was blessed with talent, you weren't. there was nothing to talk to him about, obviously, because of these dividing factors.

the longer you knew him, the more your disdain for the man grew. at rehearsals, it always felt like your performances were about him, him, and him. he was the star piano player, of course. he hadn't volunteered to be your accompanist as a sense of "stepping down"; no, no, rather, he was flaunting his piano playing with a violin playing in the background. he played perfectly. for a soloist.

as time passed, these frustrations with him became more and more apparent. you became acutely aware of how his performance would outshine your own, and it sickened you. slowly, the quality of your own performances took a nosedive. if the piece was originally pianissimo, you'd take it up to piano (then, if bakugou increased his volume, forte). if the tempo was andante and he was playing moderato, you'd play allegro. it was a competition at this point - instigated by him, of course. you were just upping the ante, even if it meant sacrificing your own artistry.

a lot of people warned you of what would happen, but you ignored them. the fierce competition you felt between you and bakugou caused your own downfall as a musician. slowly, gigs stopped trickling in, like a faucet being shut off. you blamed this on bakugou. ("i was international before him. now, i can barely get a gig in musutafu! why does everyone think he's so great?" you had fumed over the phone to jirou, your old roommate from university. she asked you if you had even listened to him play.)

you were scrambling for places to perform at this point. (“fire him,” the very unhelpful hagakure told you. you didn’t know what you were thinking when you asked her, a violist in a local orchestra. it wasn’t like she ever got a solo.) you’d seriously considered doing so, but came up empty when looking for another accompanist. online forums and friends’ connections could only do so much. they were all either unavailable during rehearsal schedules or inadequate in terms of adapting to the music given.

“you need to try working together with him,” jirou advised you one day over the phone.

“yeah, say that to yourself and kaminari,” you muttered bitterly under your breath. kaminari was a guitarist in jirou’s band who hadn’t quite gotten along with jirou well. jirou made fun of the lightning bolt streak in his hair. when you first met them, all they did was bicker day and night; now, according to the other guitarist, tokoyami, they still did this, though on a smaller scale.

she heard you. “well,” jirou said, slightly ticked off, “we get along better now. because of communication. look- i’m not saying you need to be best friends with bakugou or anything, but you need to talk to him about what’s working and what’s not. respect him as another musician, y’know?”

“i’ll… try,” you said begrudgingly.

you heard a muffled yell from the other side of the call. “kaminari, you idiot!” jirou called, voice a bit far. “what did i tell you about plugging in the amp? i said not to-” she cut herself off. “sorry, y/n, i need to go now. kaminari’s back to his normal antics.” she sighed, but it sounded more endeared than irritated. the call ended.

respect bakugou as another musician. you could do that. bakugou was only a pianist. you were a violinist. he was your accompanist. he was to support your playing. you’d forever be separated from him, doing your own thing. he, certainly, couldn’t understand the woes of being a violinist. not the intonation nor the techniques; you were sure that if you handed him a violin on the spot, he wouldn’t be able to even hold the bow properly. the notion of bakugou, piano prodigy, struggling to make a decent sound on the violin with a bow clenched in an ungainly grip deeply amused you.

these thoughts kept your relationship with bakugou afloat and restrained you from strangling him every time he stepped a toe out of line during rehearsals. ploddingly, with as minimal communication as you could manage, you tried to play with bakugou together, as a duet rather than as two soloists playing simultaneously. you swallowed your pride to play accurately to the music, patiently explaining any qualms you had with bakugou’s playing.

eventually, you found yourself building up your performances to the quality they had once been with momo. it was still far from the pristine playing that led you to an international invite - but it was an improvement, and that was all that mattered to you. innately, you were slightly ashamed of the thoughts that allowed you to keep working with bakugou. they were thoughts that told of your superiority to him, because he was playing piano for you. that’s all he was; an accompaniment to you. you told yourself that having these thoughts on the inside was better than fighting with bakugou.

somehow, along the strings of notes slurred together and shifts of fingers from one spot on a string to the next, you found yourself experiencing a strange joy gliding your bow against the strings of your violin. the rich sound of your instrument, withering and blooming with every stroke of vibrato you performed, fulfilled you unlike how it ever had before. up until now, you’d been playing for the audience, rather than yourself. the melody reverberating in the hollow body of your violin was never for your own ears to enjoy, it was for the audience’s satisfaction and listening pleasure. for it was their own enjoyment that won you competition after competition, playing with a blank face. on some occasions, you’d open your eyes during the applause to see some audience members crying, which ultimately confused you. how you were able to draw emotions from them with your playing when the music was unable to render you anything but indifferent?

you knew it in yourself, though, that the happiness you felt was hollow. delightful notes supposed to boast joy and love echoed in the rehearsal room, falling flat on your ears.

you were a soloist, though. you couldn’t let thoughts like these get to you. you could only play, for both your pride and your audience. these woes were for you to shoulder, on top of the violin you held between your chin and collarbone.

“you’re here early,” bakugou commented one day, opening the door to your shared rehearsal room. tucked under one arm was his folder of sheet music. he caught you in the middle of practicing one of the pieces for a gig - liebesfreud, by fritz kreisler.

it was true. the morning sun basked the window sill and laminate flooring, warming the particular spots it shone through. you’d arrived an hour or so early. pleased by the bright nature of the morning, you pulled up the blinds. typically, you ran late, arriving ten minutes after bakugou’s text of “you’re late again, idiot” with a coffee and a bagel in your hands. those mornings, you were really grateful for having a case with backpack straps. if you hadn’t the time to eat your bagel on the way to rehearsal, it was cold and hard by the time you had a lunch break.

thankfully, today was not one of those days. whether it was the sun or the title of the piece (“love’s joy,” how wonderful), you’d woken up and decided that today, you’d have a warm and soft bagel for breakfast. you had a coupon for a free coffee and surprisingly, the commute to rehearsals was more punctual than usual. thus, you arrived an hour early, a smile on your face as you opened the door. you opened your case with extra care and rosined your bow with extra zest, humming a tune you heard playing on the radio. bakugou would’ve had a heart attack had he saw you then.

you ignored his entrance, only peeping one eye open at the man and nodding your head toward the piano as you continued on with the piece. you allowed yourself to become immersed in the music, following the soft pace bakugou set in his playing. closing your eyes, you saw the audience before you and felt your fingers sliding and pressing the strings. time flew while playing the piece; you’d barely noticed that the piece was nearing its end, playing its familiar melody one last time before opening your eyes. a glance at the rosin dusted in between the bridge and fingerboard of your violin satisfied you, like salt on caramel. you surely played just as sweet, smooth and saccharine like the gooey texture of a caramel confection. you relished in the sunlight streaming through into the room, ignoring the shuffling of papers behind you (from bakugou, no doubt). that was how you should play.

“something’s off,” you blearily opened your eyes to the sound of bakugou’s gruff voice. he was frowning, eyebrows furrowed in a not atypical manner.

“what,” you said flatly. “it sounded fine to me. i didn’t mess up or anything.”

“no,” he replied, deep in thought, crimson eyes darkening a shade. “we don’t have proper… emotion in the music.”

“huh?” you felt a comical question mark rising out of your head. “i played it perfectly to score. it conveys the composer’s emotions to a t,” you said, getting annoyed with the pianist. your grip tightened on your violin’s neck.

“well- yeah,” he gritted his teeth. “but what about your emotions?”

“who cares about my emotions?” you said. “all that matters is that my playing is perfect. the audience feels the emotions, not me.” why else had you been plucked into violin lessons when you were five? surely not for your own enjoyment.

“idiot, that’s definitely not how it is.”

“it’s just violin playing!” you snapped. “it’s not complicated with- with emotions! it’s the same as anything else!”

“you’re wrong,” bakugou coldly answered.

“what would you understand?” you seethed. “you’re just a damn pianist. you follow my lead.”

he ignored your remarks. “why do you play a fucking instrument, then? why bother to enter competitions or recitals?”

“to win, like any other normal person!”

he let out a clipped, exasperated breath. “fuckin’ explains it, then.” he didn’t elaborate. dismissing the topic, he said, “whatever. play the piece from the top. actually try to look at me this time, so we can stay together. put more emphasis on the downbeat at the start.”

“it’s not like you even heard me play the beginning,” you retorted, but made sure to accent that note even more during the replay. pianists. they always were on their high horses.

something you looked forward to every year was the valentine’s recital. the organizers, an old couple, had known you since you were a child, and thus developed a soft spot for you. you were a shoo-in for the event, relied on to learn the music on a short deadline. last year, you played preludio, from bach’s partita for violin no. 3. this year, though, the catch was weird.

“the letter says it’s a violin duet?” you said to jirou while video calling her. “i don’t have a violinist on hand, just a pianist. it’s not like bakugou can suddenly master violin.”

jirou looked at you with a surprised expression. “you don’t know?”

you stared back at her. “know what?”

“he plays violin, too.”

“huh?” you must’ve misheard her.

she nodded. “he’s pretty good, too. have you not seen the videos?”

“videos?" your eyes widened as you soon realized the implications of bakugou harbouring an aptitude for violin. "i’ve… i’ve got to go.”

“he’s as good as you, y/n,” jirou said with a knowing smile. you were quick to press the hang up button.

five seconds into teenage bakugou’s rendition of one of paganini’s caprices, you exited youtube.

the next day, you kicked open the door to the practice room.

“you,” you pointed a finger at bakugou, who sat at the piano midway through a piece.

“what is it now, dumbass? you’re late again.”

“shut up,” you grumbled. “that’s beside the point. you- you play violin?!”

he shrugged, not avoiding your piercing gaze. “i’ve dabbled in it, yes.”

you shut the door behind you. “and why did you never tell me?!”

“tch. you never asked, did you?”

“you’re my accompanist, i should know these things!”

“you know i play piano, and that’s enough,” bakugou said stubbornly. “i only play piano with you.”

“not anymore.” setting your violin case down, you shuffled through the pocket that held your sheet music. flipping out a packet of sheet music, you thrust it in bakugou’s direction. “here.”

he grabbed the sheets from you, skimming the title. “duo for two violins in…. fuck,” he muttered. “why didn’t you just say no? who even is this from?”

“valentine’s recital. the pay’s good, bakugou, and we need it.”

“you need it,” he mumbled bitterly, holding the sheets out for you. “i don’t.”

“it’s not like i’m happy about it either. since when were you a violinist?”

“since when was it any of your damn business?”

"you're supposed to be my pianist! not anything else!"

you didn’t understand how he could be so musically inclined. you blinked, and your sight smeared, blurring the sight of your feet with the laminate flooring. this wasn't right, you thought as you felt a telltale heat creeping up you. why were you crying now?

if there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your violin playing. it seemed to be the only thing you were good at as a child when academics and athletics failed you. sure, you hated it at first (as most children did when their parents forced them to do something), but as time went on, the applause of the audience and the title of "winner" rewarded you enough. you were no prodigy, so you worked endlessly every day to prove yourself worthy. you never understood how you'd worked so hard only to be in the shadows of others so naturally gifted who surely would never understand how much you practiced to become better.

when it came to bakugou, he was never supposed to be better. he was your pianist, talented in a completely different musical realm than your own, so he could never be superior to you - and now he wasn't. he never was. here you were for the past year or so, looking like a fool in bakugou's eyes. on the days you struggled so hard with fourth finger vibrato, he was probably laughing at your inadequacy at violin. as easily as he played the violin, katsuki bakugou played you like a fool.

everything collided when you stepped out of the room, leaving a particular golden haired boy alone to stare at the sheet music you tossed him. your head throbbed with the groggy sensation of almost-tears and anger coursed through your veins.

you couldn't back out of the recital now. you couldn't.

you couldn't stand to look back into the vermillion eyes of katsuki bakugou now. even more so now, you couldn't.

your solution?

"hey, what's up?" jirou's collected voice filled your ear, your phone pressed to it.

"hey, kyo, i… kind of did a bad thing," you said, feeling jittery as you sought a commute home. you'd already made up your mind that your sorry-ass wouldn't be able to look bakugou back in the face for the rest of the day.

"...again?" she asked, tone concealing a hint of surprise. "don't tell me it was with bakugou. don't you usually practice now?"

"...usually, yes…" you sheepishly shuffled your feet, standing outside on the sidewalk. "i'll be resuming it again, 'course, when i get home…"

"why aren't you with bakugou right now?"

"that's… that's a long story," you laughed nervously.

"i can wait," jirou coolly replied. "kaminari got his foot stuck in his guitar case - don't ask - so i have time."

you considered asking about kaminari, then thought better of it.

"you know about the valentine's day recital they have every year? well, this year…" you recounted the events that led you to now, standing outside on the phone with jirou.

"where are you going to find a violinist?"

a silence found itself opportune as jirou waited for an answer. "i'm, uh, not…?" you said, deflecting the question back to jirou.

"well, you can't play both parts in the duet, can you? actually, don't answer that. i know you'd try. didn't you try that one time in-"

"what's done in uni stays in uni," you hushed her before she could recall that one time you tried to play a sonata with a recording of yourself. "aren't you going to tell me to try to make amends with bakugou?"

"no," she said thoughtfully after a pause. "you've tried before, and it's not working for you. i don't think you should be forced to do something you obviously don't want to do. i just think," she continued, "you need to find someone to do the duet with, if you don't want to work with bakugou. but objectively, he's your best bet."

as jirou always was, she was right. you thanked her for her advice not before hearing a distraught kaminari shouting for jirou in the background, and then she ended the call.

you repeated her words in your head once you got home, sliding your bow back and forth on your small block of worn rosin. the score for the duet was spread next to you on the floor. it wasn't that you didn't want to work with bakugou. or was it? had you been that selfish all along, sabotaging other performances because you didn't like him? if even jirou had noticed it, had bakugou noticed it too?

your sigh let out a thousand burdens piled up in your mind, blowing air out like dust accumulating on your tribulations. you picked up your violin and bow thoughtlessly, testing out the strings and plucking a couple with your left hand.

was it really only you with the contempt for working with bakugou? you'd assumed mutual hatred with him after your international debut, but had it really been so? had you been the only one picking fights during the time you'd worked together? as you backtracked, your fingers slipped into a familiar position. you began a piece you knew positively by heart, an absolute favorite of yours for years. you played mindlessly, serenading yourself with familiar notes and string fingerings as you thought long and hard about bakugou. how much shit had you given bakugou? he hardly complained, too, but why? why hadn't he quit after you'd been so ceaselessly difficult with him?

why were you so angry at bakugou, a gifted prodigy since childhood? the answer found itself as the composition descended into an array of complicated fingerings and string changes, sounding like an incoherent chaos somehow strung together by the music. you pretended you didn't know the answer.

it was much, much easier to leave bakugou as just a pianist. respectable in his own field, and incomparable to you. it was too good to be true, obviously. all your life, you played to win, and couldn't allow anyone else to surpass you. violin was about winning, winning, winning. how were you supposed to cope when all those hours of practice were easily overcome by someone with innate talent?

the piece eased your tension with a fermata, drawing out your vibrato to think. bakugou's perfection infuriated you, you concluded. knowing this, though, didn't help with anything. you almost screeched the last note as the composition came to an end, unsettled by thoughts of bakugou. you really couldn't stand him.

in an attempt to distract yourself from your dilemma, you decided to start practicing the recital composition. you pulled out an old portable music stand, bending the parts into place and stacking it up. carefully, you placed the sheets on the stand and skimmed over the music, bringing your violin up to your collarbone.

your eyes followed one measure ahead of what you were playing as you sight-read the piece. ahead, ahead, was all you could think as your fingers fumbled the notes, eyes moving from the score to the fingerboard. bakugou was far from your mind as you caught up to the music, too preoccupied with the sharps and flats you'd forgotten and the time you had to keep. you were busied by the shifts and the repeat signs in the music over anything else. your priority lay here for the time being, after all. the sight-reading was almost enough to make you forget you only play one half to a duet. there was still still an emptiness that lurked between the rests and the redundant beats that even your stilted practice couldn't mask. you tried not to worry about that, though.

time floated by as you repeated the piece over and over, playing for accuracy first. it wasn't enough, but you pretended it was. the metronome on your phone ticked away like time, endless and impatient, until you couldn't stand it anymore and packed away your violin.

the proceeding day was filled with more of the same practicing, working on tweaking hesitations and polishing up your playing. it was kind of convenient, practicing at home rather than waking up early to practice with bakugou. you missed the bagel the most.

you were definitely not playing your best, and it was clear by the way your bow occasionally screeched and how you fumbled the fingerings when you were particularly negligent. the piece just didn't sound right without the second part. (bakugou was definitely not the second part missing. not at all.)

by the third day you gave up and admitted to yourself that yes, bakugou was the second part missing. you were only a little bit miserable buying your usual bagel and coffee and rushing to rehearsals fifteen minutes late, aware that you'd be unable to eat it before practice. you were substantially less miserable than how you were the day previous, practicing alone.

you weren't surprised to see bakugou already there, sitting on the piano bench and tightening his bow hairs. he acknowledged you with a grunt as you set down your breakfast and beverage.

"showed up, huh?" he said finally, voice rough. he stood up, setting his sheet music on a stand. you stared at him, awed by his nonchalance. he picked up his violin and bow (which, by the way, looked super expensive) and propped his violin up by his chin. it felt so foreign to see him in position to play violin, fingers already expertly in first position and wrist beautifully curved, yet it inexplicably clicked. the scene in front of you looked like he'd done this everyday, as it was always supposed to have been, his back confidently straight. his fingers arched over the fingerboard and his bow appeared mathematically parallel to the bridge, held delicately between his fingers. you'd never carefully watched him play piano (probably due to your distaste to him and lack of knowledge about the percussion instrument), but he made the violin look like an instrument of the gods. he hesitated, though, bow moving a centimeter then back. he frowned at your idle silence and turned back to you. "well? are we doing this duet or not?"

"oh," you reacted intelligently. "yeah. yeah." it kicked in what you were doing by the time you'd started tuning your violin, first bowing your a string. after tuning your violin (with the help of a tuning fork and none from the perfect-pitched bastard bakugou, who appeared to be watching you with a triumphant gleam in his eyes as you struggled to tune your violin properly), you set your sheet music next to bakugou's.

"ready?" you asked, as if you'd been the one waiting for bakugou all this time.

"ask yourself that," he snorted. "i'll do the count."

you nodded.

"one, two, three, f-"

"wait, wait," you said, squinting at your music. "isn't it supposed to be a bit slower than that?"

"it says allegro," bakugou said, tapping his foot. "need an italian lesson? lively, briskly."

"i know what allegro means," you gritted. "seems too fast, when paired with dolce."

"maybe for you," he smirked.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "and that means what, exactly?"

he opened his mouth to reply some smug, smart-ass answer, but you stopped him.

"nevermind," you said. "do the count again, at the same tempo. i can do it."

you were bluffing, of course. since when was allegro this fast? you wondered as the opening notes sped by you in a musical blur. already familiar with the melody, you messed up dynamics the most. of crescendos and diminuendos? it wasn't like bakugou would notice, too preoccupied with his part.

the ending of the piece took your breath away, storming toward you in a whirlwind. adrenaline filled your veins as you raced to the last measure of the music, overcome by the tempo and the music. this time, full of energy and exhilaration, the piece felt complete. your and bakugou's sound surrounded the two of you, overflowing the room with a saccharine melody. it felt right simply standing beside him playing a two part piece, chest heaving from the piece's energy. you could only hear your breathing, a gentle encore to your playing.

"your playing is sloppy," bakugou said bluntly. he leaned over to your sheet music, starting to point at dynamic markings.

you swatted his hand away before he could say a word. "yeah, well, i just got the music three days ago," you interjected.

"you also had two of the three days off, so i'd say you're not doing enough." he glanced back down at your score. he pointed at a measure. "this is a crescendo, moron, why didn't you get much louder?"

"just- pay attention to your own music!" you said. "besides, it's dolce. i can get away with playing softer."

"that wasn't very dolce to me," he argued. "nothing sweet, soft, or gentle about that," he mumbled.

"i can be sweet, soft, and gentle if i want to!" you retorted.

he raised a brow, as if a challenge, scarlet eyes glinting in the light. "tch. i'm sure you can, but your playing damn can't."

“it can, too! listen,” you said, impetuously raising your violin and bow again. you slowly started to play a d major scale, impatiently scrunching your nose and squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate on making the music soft and gentle, tampering with different degrees of vibrato and bow pressure.

“... that’s just piano,” bakugou said, moving to you as you bowed an a. your bow came to an abrupt halt, making an unpleasant squeal, as bakugou positioned himself behind you. you felt his body warmth radiating behind you as a sweet, homely scent wafted around you. he brought his arms around you, hands overlapping where you held your violin and bow.

“you need to be,” he murmured into your ear, gentle tone almost slurring the words together, "fragile when you play dolce." he angled your bow slightly, moving your hand. "bow closer to the fingerboard." the smooth baritone of his voice resonated within you, becoming lost within the violinist's embrace.

"most of all," he said, dropping an octave to an intimate tone, "you need to feel it. you can attempt to play it, but without feeling, it's fuckin’ meaningless."

"feeling?" you repeated blankly. “the audience’s, you mean.”

he stepped away, a gesture that made you breathless, and shook his head. he crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally accentuating their volume. “your damn feelings. what do you feel when playing the piece?”

there’s a pause for perhaps a second too long, as you mulled over different answers in your head.

“tch.” his eyes don’t leave you, gaze a laser burning into you. “‘s what i thought. why do you play violin?”

you held your tongue from answering my parents. “to win. i play to win,” you stated.

“and that’s the damn problem,” bakugou said, releasing a breath of frustrated air. “you win to play.”

“that means…?” you were starting to get impatient with the man, who seemed to be stalling and dragging out your limited time.

“you win competitions to play more.”

you almost scoffed, but his words were plausible. “what’s the purpose in playing more if not to win?”

he made a scratching noise in his throat, cool demeanor shifting to that of the bakugou you knew. “l-l-” he coughed, “love.”

“love?” you repeated, the word a surprise to swallow.

he nodded, gagging on his reply. you couldn’t see bakugou as the romantic type - the same bakugou who called all of his friends demeaning nicknames and could barely say the word love out loud. he was explosive, maybe, and talented, sure - but acquainted with love? you pursed your lips at the stuttering man trying to advise you.

“whatever,” he dismissed, voice oddly hoarse. “just play it from the top. fix the dynamics.”

weeks passed in a blur, though bakugou’s advice was left unforgotten. it had, for the most part, faded from your mind but lingered like a ghost in an abandoned attic, stirring up dust in complete silence. it was valid criticism on bakugou’s part, but the problem was that it was criticism you couldn’t digest. it was a ghost that you could not rid of, whispering and lurking until your music played over it.

four weeks before the performance, you had the piece almost entirely memorized other than a few flukes here and there. you managed most of your dynamics, playing in sync with bakugou by your side. three weeks and the piece was mostly smooth, foregoing all sheet music and practicing in the middle of the room with bakugou tapping out the tempo on the honeyed floor. any mistakes were recovered from quickly, and you were pleased to say that the amount of bakugou’s slip-ups equated to yours. at two weeks, though, he brought up the pest bugging your mind.

“play with more emotion,” he sighed exasperatedly, letting out a huff as you played for him. “start on f sharp again.”

you’d tried time and time again, but the longer you’d replayed the same few measures (followed by his criticism for the nth time), the only emotion you felt was frustration. your bow would push too hard or your vibrato would lay on thick, immensely irritating bakugou. you didn’t know why he even tried.

the air felt stale and the lights shone obnoxiously bright. the pads of your left hand fingers had hardened by now, indented with a pair of parallel lines from your unforgiving violin strings. you inhaled rosin dust and occasional bow hairs miserably dropped to the floor. your arms were tired, sore, and sick of playing; your ears painfully endured the same tune again and again, the originally fluid and sweet notes becoming high frequency static.

“i can’t do this.” you were tempted to flop onto the ground, hopelessness pouring over you.

“you can,” bakugou insisted stubbornly. “you just need to try harder.”

“harder?” you would’ve snapped (and you were surprised your e string didn’t already by the repetitive motions on it) if you weren’t so exhausted from rehearsing.

he nodded like it was obvious. “try harder.”

you shakily inhaled, trying to smooth your voice over. “i’m sorry i can’t be a prodigy like you.”

he stiffened, tense to the point of trembling. “whatever,” and it was a strained word pulled from his mouth. it was very atypical for him to give up like this, but you didn't care. you avoided his eyes as you restarted the piece, unable to bloom anything from it.

outside of your rehearsal time, you practiced. arguably, your solo rehearsals were more rigorous. you forced yourself to add emotion to the piece, sometimes playing for jirou. she agreed with bakugou (though was a great deal less irritating), stating that your playing was somewhat hollow. (you restrained yourself from knocking on the instrument and saying that yes, indeed, violins were hollow.)

"how… how do you get any emotions from playing?" you asked jirou at one point, watching one of her band's rehearsals. they were on a break, chatting idly and taking sips from their water bottles.

“well…” jirou started, glancing back at her band members. “i think about the feelings i want the audience to feel because of my songs. i think about how the song makes me feel, then i put that into how i play.”

“how do you…” you shifted uncomfortably, “know what to feel?”

she looked at you, taken aback, but replied easily. “you don’t. it just… happens.”

her response was vastly different than what you’d been taught a child. emotions? sure, there was perhaps a time where playing evoked a feeling in you, plucked something melodical from your heartstrings. it was when you were a child, though, so it was irrational and erratic, an outburst in the middle of your otherwise level playing. your violin teacher didn’t approve when you’d follow how the music made you feel. she said it made you stray too far from the original piece and would make you lose competitions. no matter how you pushed back against her, her advice haunted you over and over every time you got anything other than first place.

your performance is the audience, she’d told you. you didn’t understand what she meant at first, but she made sure you did while practicing for your next rehearsals. the audience, she quipped with thin lips under her sharp eyes, is everything. if the audience wasn’t satisfied, your performance was worthless, no matter how well you played technically. you play for them and you win - it was that plain. there was nothing more than you wanted but to win, at the time. you wanted a trophy, a medal, a certificate stating that you were better than most. it was palpable evidence that you were good enough - for your parents, your peers, anyone. like that, you practiced, a servant for approval. you weren’t a prodigy, but you sure as hell would try to play like one. her advice worked for over a decade, soundly racking you up with countless awards that filled your otherwise desolate self-esteem.

you didn’t say anything else to jirou about it, instead thinking about the bits and pieces of human feeling you could extract in between your piece’s accidentals and eighth notes. perhaps there was a possibility, through the phrases of notes and dynamic markings, you’d find a word that said love. a renewed interest sparked itself when jirou’s band continued their rehearsals, finding yourself to be a normal audience member (maybe even crying at the end. maybe).

you returned home to practice, practice, practice, coercing any hidden message in the music to vibrate in your violin and echo around your room. you watched other renditions of the piece to find something you were missing, but imitating them didn’t seem right. this continued for the following weeks, hiding any potential development from bakugou (or trying to, at least). you knew you’d be disappointing him if you failed after trying so hard. it was only safe to play what you knew, secure in the written parts of the composition and keeping it at that.

by the time the performance came around, you were glad bakugou never found out about your secret efforts. if he had, you knew he’d be sorely dispirited by your lack of tangible progress, your sound just as hollow as the soundbox of your violin. you failed, you knew, and as crestfallen as you were on that cold february morning, the show must go on.

the performances were held in an auditorium, warm compared to the snowy wonderland outside. it was typically couples comprising the audience, all romantic and pepped up in the spirit of valentine's day (white day was no different). some arrived early, finding seats in the empty auditorium and chatting amongst themselves (or sometimes making out, which made you want to throw your violin at them and gag). bakugou’s and your performance was last; it quite the heavy honor to play the finale to the recital.

backstage was a vast contrast to the hushed atmosphere settled over the assemblage. hovering over the staff and performers for the day was a sense of panic, hurry, and hecticness. bits of rosin were scattered on the ground where you prepared for your rehearsal, some belonging to your block and others not. your pack of extra strings lay next to you on the sofa you sat on, arm resting on the side of the seat. similar to your violin's strings, spun tightly over pegs to be kept in place, you felt high-strung. the buzz of energetic excitement flitted in your head, knee bumping up and down and jerking your violin in the same motion. it was hard to calm when you tuned your violin to absolute perfection, relying on bakugou's perfect pitch to do so. the fine tuners on the end of your strings probably hadn't had a harder time in the years you'd owned your violin.

"you're shaking the entire sofa, idiot," bakugou deadpanned next to you. “some of us are trying to rosin our bow, unlike you.” he glanced at the floor, where amber shards of rosin lay amidst white dust (also made of rosin).

“to be fair, most of those aren’t mine,” you pointed out. you reached into your violin case, finding the rectangular case of rosin and opening the top. "mine's only chipped in a couple corners, and the rest is just worn on the edges from my bow."

you leaned over to look at bakugou's rosin, two stubs in its case. "and i'm the one dropping my rosin?"

his ears turned a deep red, matching the velvet curtains on stage. "that's different," he muttered, putting the lid on his rosin and putting it away.

"you ready?" you watched him swallow before speaking, not looking at you. you could hear one of the presenters speaking, introducing the first piece to be played (an ever-so romantic rendition of clair de lune), but the voices felt distant and muffled over the sound of your own nervous heart beating.

"yeah," he replied. he turned to look at you, scarlet eyes meeting your own. "what, you're not scared now, are you, dumbass?"

you gulped. "no… just excited," you said. in truth, you felt disappointed in yourself for being unable to find any emotion in your playing - thinking about the piece, you were devoid of anything but the measures and the notes. what was the piece trying to say in the white space between staff lines? after the clef at the beginning of the music, where did the emotions start and everything else end?

quiet notes, twinkling from the piano on stage, met your ears. you took a deep breath. how did they make you feel?

…not very good, because this pianist was certainly a beat or two off tempo. a large hand on your knee startled you out of your trance. its warmth was surprisingly comforting. you followed the arm connecting to the hand to meet bakugou's concentrated face, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched.

"don't shake your knee like that. also, why are you so damn cold?" he moved his hand away, leaving an imprint of heat on your knee. you hadn't noticed the physical manifestation of your nerves prior to bakugou's words.

you left his question unanswered, staring at your violin in your lap. you traced the patterns in wood, fingers following the shape of the f-hole and thumbing circles on your chin rest. how were you supposed to be able to pull living, breathing life in the form of emotions from an inanimate object? what sorcery were you supposed to manage to satisfy yourself and the audience?

you thought back to bakugou's words. what was it had he said you were supposed to be playing for? love, the irrational and sentimental flaw of life - somehow expressed from the symbols on a sheet of paper and through strings on hollow wood. what sort of miracle was bakugou creating with his music?

what was violin, if not just a task to do everyday? what was it, out of competitions and tests of skill? what was the sound reverberating within its vacant body, recording every shift of fingers on the fingerboard?

you looked past your violin to the rosin on the floor. friction, your violin teacher had explained to you. you put rosin on your bow so it creates friction with the strings, and thus creates sound. it was strange how friction caused the smooth sound of a violin. too much friction, added by pressure on the bow, made a creaky sound on the strings. without rosin, the bow would be too smooth on the string and make no noise at all. the happy medium of not too much and not too little created the familiar rich tone on the strings.

a happy medium, you mused. in between too much friction and none at all. maybe that was how you were supposed to feel, in between trying too hard and not trying at all. that's what feelings were in the end, right? a natural human instinct, spurred by life. could you breathe life into the music?

the stage seemed almost too big for the two of you, spotlights centering you on the wide, wooden platform. the crowd's eyes were on you and your fellow violinist, some watching with drooping eyelids. they felt far, distant under the shadows. even so, the question still besieged you - would you please them?

you teared your eyes away to bakugou, who started the count. everything was silent until he nodded to you, your cue to start the piece. it felt too fast when you began but it was the same allegro you’d been practicing with. muscle memory took control now, your fingers finding their places easily.

your fingers and bow took all your attention. everything else fell away - the lights, the crowd, the stage - until it was just you, your violin, and the music. you could practically see the score in your head, playing the notes you'd come to know so well.

you heard your music echo and resound off the walls, but that's all it seemed to do. it touched everyone in the room, looking for a place to stay, and diminished in an empty space alone. it frustrated you that it wouldn't resonate - where was the love bakugou had so told you of? this auditorium was no different than your room, where sounds bounced off walls and landed nowhere. you weren't reaching anywhere or anyone, lacking emotion and any true substance.

love - what was love if not a hindrance? how could bakugou expect so much out of you? love - had you ever felt it for the violin? dolce told you to play sweetly, softly, and gently, but what was sweet about the violin? what was so sweet about the imprints of strings on your fingers, fragmented rosin at your feet, and bruises on your neck from long hours of practice? what was gentle about the arduous replaying of the same measure, the ringing in your ears after playing to master a simple phrase? what was soft about the forte that rang in your head, the fortissimo that filled a performance and clouded your senses?

dolce filled you like an epiphany, euphoric in your eyes that finally opened and awakened. dolce was in bakugou's eyes, soft velvet like the crimson curtains onstage, downcast at his violin. dolce was in his sound as his bow skittered near the fingerboard, in his fingers sliding back and forth on his a string. dolce was in his grasp of his bow and violin, in the very essence he played the violin with. dolce contradicted everything you knew, reminding you of bakugou's soft hands over yours, guiding your fingers and bow. dolce was the morning light streaming into the practice room as you argued with bakugou over tempos and notes, the light glinting on shattered shards of rosin as you anxiously rosined your bow. dolce was the curve of your violin scroll, the bend of your fingers over your bow's frog. dolce was the white space in between staff lines on your sheet music and through half and whole notes. dolce was everything in between the rough of your violin experience, the laughter and smiling gone forgotten during sleepless practice sessions and violin evaluations.

what was dolce, if not a rebellion? what was it, if not a rebellion from the years of work and pain you'd endured in the name of musicality? what was it, if not laughing in the face of your violin instructors and the strict score you adhered to?

when you opened your eyes to meet bakugou's, whose carmine eyes dripped with a burning passion and the essence of souls, you finally felt. it was the so-sought over love, scorching every note and stroke of your bow and bursting life in every movement, breath, and echo of your performance. it was exhilarating, living through every slur and chord you played. when you finally met his eyes he understood, a satisfied smile tugging on his lips as his gaze never left yours. this was it - this was dolce, humming sweetly, softly, and gently in your ears and reflecting in the audience's heart. this was dolce, making you realize that you never wanted to play violin alone again.

you picked up a rose that had landed at your feet at the end of your piece, holding it next to bakugou's confused face. in doing so, you reached your second epiphany of the day - perhaps the more important of the two. bakugou's eyes bloomed redder than the rose, deeper than the lowest note on a double bass, and maybe it was he that was the true dolce you were looking for.

notes!!

if you’re reading this, congrats !! this is my longest fic on my account (the record will be broken soon), so i really appreciate you reading this :> (spare a reblog, perhaps?)

first, explaining the playlist:

beethoven’s kreutzer - this was played in the anime, “your lie in april,” and i simply think it fits the “fight” reader and bakugou have. this was played at reader’s first international recital that did not go so well.

kreisler’s liebesfreud (love’s joy) is in the same series as his piece called liebesleid (love’s sorrow), also featured in “your lie in april.” i personally really like the piece. of all of these listed, i think you should listen to this one the most.

beriot’s duo concertante was the other contender for reader and bakugou’s duet piece!

debussy’s clair de lune is simply a favorite of mine. it’s the first piece played at the valentine’s performance (and i like to imagine reader’s listened to bakugou’s recording of the piece)

spohr’s duo for 2 violins is the piece reader and bakugou play! it’s the second part of the duo in allegro, and i once tried to listen to it while following the sheet music. i was so confused every time i did so; i’d get lost and such, and figured my musicality was declining. nope. i was reading the wrong part. so, i started freaking out because oh god the dolce is in the first part, not the second, and thankfully, there’s a bit of dolce in the second part too! however, it did take me a while to decide whether to use the first part instead.

also, spohr invented the chinrest on the violin! crazy :D

paginini’s 24th caprice is considered the hardest out of all 24 caprices. imagine,,, teenage bakugou playing this,,, doing the left hand pizz and all T^T pain

there’s a lot i wish i could cover in this! a lot of reader’s own flaws (ahem, viola jokes) and development were something i couldn’t cover. bakugou’s arc as well! he had an arc a bit before this story takes place :)) tl;dr i’m very tempted to pick my violin up again and start playing

the frog of the bow does not, sadly, go ribbit. it’s the part violinists hold the bow by!

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this :)

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #luna's writing #violinist bakugou

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

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Byakuya Prom HCs

request; Prom Headcanons for Byakuya Togami with Fem! S/O, please? Thank you!

warnings; fem!reader, fem pronouns and names referring to females, pre-tragedy, reader is stubborn af, cussing, fluff

note; argh sorry i took a fucking week to finish this T_T i’ll punch myself later for it, don’t worry mate. sorry if it seems a bit rushed(because it is), i was a bit tired when i wrote this. anyhow, thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

- mod chia

◊ For prom, you’re the one who had to ask him out first albeit, a couple of hundred times before he says yes. he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask you, so you had to take matters into your own hands.

◊ Byakuya wasn’t interested in prom at all, or just any school activities where you have to have ‘fun’; hence why he didn’t ask you out.

◊ When you had first asked him out for prom and he said no, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to go with you, it was because prom sounded like a pain to him and he’d much rather go on a library date with you. Though, he won’t tell you that.

◊ So to get him to actually say yes and willingly go to prom with you, would likely be impossible.

◊ But not for you! You weren’t going to give up just because a douche told you to! God can’t save Byakuya now because, phew! You are stubborn.

◊ You’d try everything. Like, everything to get him to go with you.

◊ You got Aoi to get her swimming friends to help, although she did not like Byakuya that much and she was confused as to why you did??, she thought she’d at least help you out for your sake only >:(

◊ She got four synchronized swimmers with a letter on each of their swimsuits to do a dance routine in the school pool. Once Aoi finally got things organized, you called Byakuya over and he saw the whole thing.

◊ He wasn’t even fazed.

◊ His only favourite part was how happy you looked when they did their synchronized routine lmfao

◊ Anyways, the swimmers made sure to remember to flip Byakuya off before they hit the showers.

◊ You were perplexed as he wasn’t even a little dazzled by the amazing routine Aoi’s team created, your spirits crushed, ‘How do I do something better than that!?’ though mind you, that didn’t mean you would give up. You still kept trying.

◊ Every five seconds, a person would run into Byakuya’s classroom to say something like, ‘The library is burning down!’ or ‘Makoto has cancer!’ to get him to follow them to his demise yet another promposal.

◊ He got out of his seat extremely quick when he heard about cancer, fucker wanted to watch Makoto slowly die away as the disease takes over his body- Oh wait, it’s just you. And more… roses.

◊ Needless to say, he was disappointed but still was happy that he could see your face though Makoto dying would’ve been cooler-.

◊ One time you had barged into his classroom during a test with a bouquet in hand, a sign that said, ‘Prom?’ and your confidence was at first, through the roof. You opened your mouth to speak, imaginary sparkles surrounding your face, before Byakuya started glaring at you with imaginary laser eyes that you were sure could murder you. You slowly backed out, understanding the message loud and clear. Feeling awkward as the students and Byakuya glared at you, “Y-yeah um, yeah I can come back-” Byakuya cut you off, “Don’t.” Glaring back at him with a shit-eating smirk, “Oh, but I will.”

◊ sigh.

◊ The last promposal you did was with 3 other people planning to prompose, thinking that if you guilt him enough and put him on the spot, he would finally give you that sweet, sweet ‘Yes.’

◊ ––and it worked.

◊ You got Kyoko, Mondo, and Sakura to perform with you; turns out they all had someone to prompose to.

◊ You all did a sick dance routine, almost completely in sync(keyword; almost).

◊ Once it ended, you all picked up signs from the floor and started walking towards your loved ones’ It went like, Aoi, “OHMYGOD BABBEEEE YESSS!!” Kiyotaka, “HECK YEAH BRO!” Makoto, “*sniff*, Y-yes.” aaaaaaand lastly, your one and only, Byakuya.

◊ You looked him in the eye pleadingly, a small pout on your face as you fidgeted with the ends of the sign, “Just for one night?” Byakuya looked around at the kissing, happy couples, feeling like he might be leaving you out, he sighed, “....ugh fine.”

◊ When he first saw you in your prom attire, he almost got a boner- No, I’m kidding. But not really—You see, he did get a boner, but not a penis boner; a heart boner. For you <3 i hate myself

◊ His breath was taken away from you, and so was his heart, as he laid his eyes on your beautiful dressed up self. He had tried to conceal his shock, but the sparkle in his eyes gave it away. Quickly, he handed you the corsage of flowers that matched the ones on his breast-pocket, a not so prominent blush on his face. “I- Ahem. I brought you this because I assumed it’d be fitting for the event this evening.” He spoke formally, as a result of you giggling at his fat-cat tone.

◊ “Okay then, princely, then shall you escort me to your fancy limousine- I mean, carriage?” Byakuya rolled his eyes, resisting a small smile, “Stop mocking me.” You beamed at him, “You know you love it~”

◊ Prom night would be more fun than Byakuya had originally thought. Other than the sweaty and horny teenagers groping and grinding against each other, you made it tolerable for him. He told himself, as long as he kept his eyes on you, everything would be okay.

◊ When I say he kept his eyes on you, I mean it. While he danced with you, he wouldn’t look away from you for a second, bumping into people and barreling through teen couples as he danced like shit with you.

◊ Byakuya shouldered Aoi as he danced past them, “Byakuya, she’s our friend!” Byakuya cursed as he stumbled over his footwork, “Friend? That bitch is our mortal enemy.”

◊ Byakuya probably prefers slow dancing, though his ultimate favourite is doing absolutely nothing at all :)

◊ Though, if you had begged him to dance with you, that would be the only thing he agrees to.

◊ When Byakuya dances with you, he imagines himself as dazzling and charming, capturing everyone’s attention as he waltzed around the room, leading you.

◊ In reality, he is absolute shit at dancing.

◊ His family never let him take dance lessons, seeing as they were useless towards benefiting the family business. So, he had no idea at all on how to dance. Although it looked like he was leading, in reality, you were the one leading him.

◊ In the end, you both end up having a great time together. He refused to say he enjoyed it, however, you knew deep down he loved it, he was just too much of a tsundere to admit it.

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fishylife · 3 years ago

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Street Dance of China Season 4, Episode 5

- I love practice montages! I was surprised that we got to see the process of each of the captains (of the competing teams) choosing dancers to their teams. Ibuki and Ma Xiaolong were speaking English to each other, and I don’t doubt that English was probably the main mode of communication across borders for these dancers.

- Okay Ibuki leading Huang Xiao by hand and then Huang Xiao cackling in glee and hugging Ma Xiaolong....very cute.

- So...is Huang Xiao baby?

- Huehuehue love Poppin’C’s laugh

- Ibuki said that Ma Xiaolong helped her a lot with recruitment. I think that’s for two reasons. One is that Ma Xiaolong (and Huang Xiao) are choreographers, so they have a better idea of what styles look together. The other is that Ma Xiaolong knows the Chinese dancers better than she would.

- Moony was saying how Ibuki is the captain but she is the youngest, and is definitely very cute haha.

- Yang Kai was very worried about dancing to a rap song so he recruited as many choreographers as he could. But the issue was that they all had different approaches to choreographing so they spent a lot of time discussing before choreographing and rehearsing.

- Yang Kai deadass brought his laptop to the hotpot restaurant because he was going to turn dinner into a lesson on Three Kingdoms for Boris and Kenken lol. The name of their song was Chitu, which is the horse of Lv Bu. Basically Chitu was just a great super capable horse and that’s why it was so famous lol. Yang Kai was trying to compare their battle to the Three Kingdoms lmao. Kenken was Zhuge Liang, Ibuki was Cao Cao (LMAO), and Chitu Ma was a Ferrari lol. Not gonna lie though, the stories in Three Kingdoms are pretty iconic lol.

- In terms of the performances, I liked them both! I think that Team Ibuki’s performance was very fun in the sense that it was like a story. I don’t think songs like that are popular dance songs, so I really liked seeing how they choreographed the dance and I felt that it was done in a very creative and fun way. I think where it may have fallen short was the cohesion. I like Poppin’C, but I wonder if it was difficult to fit him in because his skill set was so specific. As well, because all of the dancers were wearing different clothes, it was a bit difficult to see their synchronization during the group dance parts. For Team Yang Kai’s performance, it definitely was extremely hype. Whereas Team Ibuki wore different clothes, Team Yang Kai had a dress code so the cohesion was easy to see. But I feel like Team Yang Kai’s performance was being propped up by the fact that it had a very hype song, one that easy to dance to.

- Rochka continues to be the biggest fanboy of every single person on this show. I love him!!!

- Y’all have no idea how much I love hearing Boris speak Chinese. Yes, he has an accent, but he is also very easy to understand. You have no idea how difficult it is to find non-ethnic Chinese people who speak Chinese this fluently. Iunno, he just makes Mandarin seem so much more approachable. Boris said that he’d been in China for 7 years so it makes sense that he feels so confident speaking. A lot of people who are learning languages have to get over that hump where they stop feeling embarrassed about their accent because they have to go out and live their life and buy groceries and go to the doctor and stuff and it’s really interesting to hear Boris expressing himself.

- Henry feeling so pressured when he had to choose which team to pick lmao.

- Yixing went “We’re looking at you because you’re cute!” So bold, Yixing XD

- And Henry went “I feel pressured because you guys are handsome.” XD Two can play at that.

- Then Han Geng went “Henry’s Chinese is so good now!” XD My mom says that to me when I make a good joke in Chinese.

- Yixing has to talk behind his clipboard because he’s so nervous lmfao.

- So the rule is that one judge gets two votes for each matchup. In addition to that, that judge has to cut three members, two to enter a battle and one to be eliminated immediately, not including the captain.

- Ibuki was so upset when she returned to her seat :(

- Ye Yin had his team draw out their feelings as they listened to their assigned song. I thought it was a bit gimmicky, but this visual is cute.

- I thought Team Ye Yin’s performance was cool considering this was a song that would be difficult to choreograph for. I was surprised with how the incorporated breaking and locking elements, as there are breaking and locking experts on their team. But overall I thought the choreography was so nice. It told a story, and it suited the vibe of the song. Props to Bunta for the awesome choreography.

- Han Geng said that their performance reminded him of his youth, and then Henry said that he felt the same, that the performance reminded him of Geng-ge. He was like “ge, do you remember?“ and Geng-ge was like of course! Han Geng said he remembered their romantic days X’D So unnecessary. At one point the director was like did Han Geng and Henry used to have their arms around each other’s shoulders? And both of them were like uhh yeah all the time dude.

- George was asked about his rivalry with C-Lil because they keep getting stuck together lol. Apparently C-Lil became a tea enthusiast which was cute.

- Yuwan clapping his hands while his arms around C-Lil :3

- Team Liangliang’s performance was cut because apparently it was not very good, and the editors cut it out to prevent them from getting haters. I think Liangliang’s Sun Wukong headgear had obstructed his vision, and Yixing said that the performance wasn’t very in sync. A pity :(

- Gogo Brothers’ team is stack af.

- Gogo Brothers + Hilty & Bosch hotel room conference lol.

- AC went for a waacking + krump combo which is cool! Their performance was extremely aesthetically pleasing. Even though the fire power is perhaps less explosive, they worked together as a team very well. I definitely thought the waacking and the krump complemented each other very well.

- AC bought snail noodles for his team members, and apparently it’s one of those very polarizing foods, but Chika really liked it haha.

- Ohh, you know this is gonna be good.

- Team Gogo Brothers’ performance was good, but at the same time...there wasn’t anything new about it? Since there were five lockers on the, most of the performance was going to be high quality locking, but at the same time, the locking kind of overshadowed any attempt to try anything new. It was still good though, I just felt that it had limitations compared to AC’s performance that did something new with combining styles, both in terms of dance and aesthetics (costumes).

- Love to see the baby smile v.v

- Lmao Xiao Jie said that Xiaohai was the good luck charm of their team XD His good luck charm name is Jr. Baby, aka Haibaobao lol

- Yibo and Yixing voted for Gogo Brothers, and Han Geng voted for AC, so Henry, who had two votes, had the final say in who would win this battle. Then we got the theatrics where Han Geng, Yibo, and Yixing went into the audience because their job was done lol.

- Then Henry was like “ge~~~~ didn’t you say you would take care of me?” And Han Geng’s like, I’m letting you have the SDOC experience bro.

- Even though we all know it’s a joke, Han Geng is still so caring and affectionate lol.

- Anyway, after all that shenaniganery, what Henry said was right. It feels so tough eliminating any single member of the team, because it was all of them who helped deliver such a beautiful performance. I know AC had a tough time going up against Gogo brothers but dammit I actually super loved their performance. So cruel!!!!!

- Han Geng felt bad because Auju had said he wanted to be in a solo battle in the 3 vs 3 challenge, but he was put in the 5 vs. 5 battle and then this group performance, so Han Geng wanted to let him have the stage to perform his best. I thought it was a nice gesture, to let him have the stage to show off in the way he was most confident with, to let himself show himself at his best.

- Then Henry was like “what if we had Auju AND Yixing????”

- And then Boi Marble joined!!! Krumptastic

- Yixing said that even though krumpers look really fierce, that aside from the krump, all of them are lil cuties uwu.

- Team Nelson having fun with Hanfu was so cute! :D Sometimes with the non-Chinese contestants, I worry that they find the Chinese culture stuff tedious, because SDOC does try to fit as much culture in. So I’m glad to see that they’re at least finding a way to have fun. I wish I had such pretty hanfu to dress up in v.v

- I’ll be honest though, I don’t think Nelson’s team was very synchronized. He had a lot of very good individual dancers (Bouboo, Zyko, Lil Kev, that firepower is undeniable), but there were parts when I felt like all of the dancers were doing their own thing. Maybe the choreography was too subtle, or maybe the dancers themselves had slightly different rhythms.

- Acky-san giving red pockets to his team, but instead of money, he wrote them letters in different languages T_T

- A full popping team is risky move, but it paid off. Everybody was popping so everybody was dancing to their strength. Compare that to some of the other teams, where there were some dancers who clearly were lagging because they were dancing to a style they were very comfortable with. In addition, the visual style of the performance was fresh and fun. Their costumes were very wacky and fun to look at, and their performance exuded the kind of fun vibes where you felt like you wanted to join them.

- Out of the captains who’d lost their challenges, they would have to battle each other in a round robin style tournament. First place would get to keep two of their "pending” members, and second place would get to keep one.

- Yixing got up SO FAST when Tell Me started playing. I didn’t know this song before so I looked it up and it is a bop haha.

- Yixing dancing along uwu I don’t know the name of this song but it was the second song in the Ibuki vs. Liangliang battle.

- AC vs. Ibuki dancing to It’s Raining Men was A LOT of fun, particularly because everybody including the spectators knew the song haha.

- The first place winner was Nelson who was able to save Tengzai and Lil Kev and the second place winner was AC who could only choose one person to save, and AC chose Fanfan.

- Ma Xiaolong and Huang Xiao comforting Ibuki because she couldn’t save her team members :(

- Ahh I’m going to miss Yuri because she was so cute and fun. AC apologized for not being able to save her :( Gonna miss u bb ;(

- I liked Latrice too T_T Hated to see her go :(

- Brats playing with the microphones. They basically disassembled their standing microphones and waved the part around even after Han Geng already told Yibo not to lmao.

- So this section was supposed to be the captains’ opportunity to tell the dancers what kind of team they were looking to put together. Yixing was so surprised because Han Geng and Yibo had very simple and short statements (though it took a while for Han Geng to get to his point), because the boy deadass prepared a speech. Of course he did.

- Yang Kai said that his speech sounded like a motivational speech from a boss at work. That’s exactly what it is.

- Apparently Henry also prepared a speech XD

- So from what I understand, the captains will recruit a team that they think represents their style. Afterwards, the dancers who have not been chosen will get to choose their team based on which captain’s style they like. I think that’s how it works, we’ll see if I’m right lol.

- Henry trying to gleam information X3 Yibo just deals with the pressure by smiling and shaking his head. Dare I say this is the first time I’ve seen Yibo look shy??????? It’s cuuuute.

- Since the cubicles don’t have ceilings, Henry was like someone could be watching me!

- Nosy housecat in training

- Yibo and Henry and Han Geng were playing mind games being like “oh, you picked Poppin’C? And Yixing fell for the trick ^^;; Luckily he was not allowed to change his answer so at least he’s not going to make a change he regrets lol.

- All of the dancers Yixing picked were not picked by anyone else so he was quite lucky.

- Han Geng had three of his choices matching with Henry or Yibo.

- Henry has no idea how to recruit dancers so he just ends up singing love songs. Of course.

- Zyko’s loyal dude XD I can see why Han Geng is a safe choice though. Han Geng is low on the theatrics, so if I was a low key guy like Zyko, I’d probably feel less pressure being on his team. I could just focus on dance and not on entertaining the cameras.

- I can see why Nelson would go with Yibo. Yibo is quiet but he’s serious and focused and more importantly they both confirmed that they are competitors.

- Henry and Han Geng both chose Ibuki. Here Han Geng is patiently waiting/spying while Ibuki and Henry have their interview.

- Then he was offered a ladder and Geng-ge became the biggest gremlin lmao.

- Yixing the good little helper.

- C U T I E

- When Han Geng was having his interview with Ibuki, he locked the ladder in his own room and kept the key. Then he stole the keys from all the other rooms and gave them to Henry XD Actual troll-ge.

- Ibuki chose Han Geng in the end.

- So all of the people Henry chose picked other captains. This frame lmfao.

- I think last season Yixing had tons of trouble recruiting dancers to his team. In the hotpot preview he said he was super lax about this year and it worked in his favour.

#thinking out loud #cvariety #street dance of china #screencaps

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years ago

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,498

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland

AN: I have nothing. Nothing except for...I’m sorry... T_T

Chapter 58: Killer

“I’m not Buddha but I’m a butcher. I’ll cut away your skin like a...”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Namjoon slowly slid the black cotton mask from his mouth and nose, waiting in the shadows of an alcove outside of the building. The small group of men he had with him, former Golden Jackals, huddled in the darkness. They were able to overtake the side entrance hours ago, before the crack of dawn. He made sure that no one of merit within the Jade Fangs would approach the designated area. Even if they did, Namjoon would have made it a point to subdue them completely. He would leave their bodies for the crows out in the muddy fields if he had his way.

But no, this was the moment where they would turn the tides. This was the beginning of the end.

We finish this today…

Lifting a cigarette to his lips, the orange glow of the flame licked at the end of the stick as a light crackling sound emitted itself from the contact. A few hushed conversations were going on beside him, to which he vaguely tuned in. They were out to prove themselves to the fallen brothers and sisters still imprisoned in the world they were forced to live in when adventuring into the light. But it was a life they deserved; a life they fought so hard for. Whether they lived or died after today, it would all be relevant to their future.

Pulling out his watch, Namjoon immediately flipped open the latch that covered the face. He was old-fashioned, so to speak, and a bit of a sentimentalist. Jimin teased him once about still carrying a pocket watch in this day and age, but how could he let it go?

It was a graduation gift Jungkook bought for him just before he moved to attend University in Seoul.

Time seemingly crawled; all of them were prepared to launch their first assault against the Jade Fangs. Namjoon already planned to be the first to cause the strike. He would need to ensure that the blast counted for something, otherwise it was all just going to get mucked up in the end. He would not have any screw-ups. Not while he was in charge of the first wave. Their offense was cut in half with Jungkook and Jimin pulled from the equation.

Pulling his ball cap down further on his head, he slipped the watch back into his pocket. Namjoon took one final drag of his cigarette, the smoke cloud billowing in his face and partially clouding his vision. However, in the shadows it seemed as if he were a dragon on the verge of breathing out a tremendous vortex of flame. One of the men approached him, nodding quickly. Namjoon grinned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The gas line had successfully been cut.

“It’s time,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

In sync, all of them slipped their masks over their faces. The cigarette fell to his feet and sparked with the faint light of its embers before finally dying out altogether. They could hear the approaching footsteps growing in time and Namjoon pulled out his hunting knives. As soon as they were in the right position, he disappeared and then reappeared at the front of the room which was in full view of the four different ways that many of the others could enter what was now to be viewed as their battlefield.

Now he had to wait for the show to truly begin.

Yoongi and his team were situated near the back of the factory, hiding in the thick brushes and reeds that were in desperate need of attention and care. Changkyun felt it wasn’t time to tidy up the landscape and that allowed for the perfect amount of camouflage. Namjoon already texted him earlier, telling him that he was in position with his team. Taehyung and his group were hidden within the factory, away from prying eyes. Once all the pieces were lined up, it would be his job to tip the first domino.

He couldn’t fucking wait.

Yoongi felt a dark smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. To think they’d spent the better part of three days planning this out. It almost seemed far fetched and he would never have gone along with something like this. Not until Namjoon convinced him just how solid this counterattack would be. Because they were using Changkyun’s ego against him. He may have broken them by taking their brothers from them and left them feeling demoralized from how thoroughly they’d been ruined. But what Changkyun failed to see was the very thing Hoseok kept hidden away from the Jade Fangs all these years. The thing that he made sure they all kept hidden from them.

Their very own malicious nature.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket and he pulled out his phone, eyeballing the screen. It was time for him to make his move. Slipping out from his hiding spot, he made a point to make as much noise as possible. He wanted to be found. He wanted his path impeded.

His men would remain hidden.

The shuffling of feet reached Yoongi and he was soon surrounded in a semi-circle by Jade Fang lackeys. Pushing his way through the small throng was Kihyun, a curious expression painted over his features. Yoongi pulled out a cigarette and lit the end, slipping the lighter into his pocket. He watched Kihyun place himself in front of him, his back to the window of the factory.

“You should really quit while you’re ahead, Yoongi-ah,” said Kihyun, a baseball bat draped over his shoulder, “those things’ll kill you.”

“My smoking habits should be the least of your concerns,” he replied, cigarette poking out from between his lips.

Kihyun laughed, shaking his dark chestnut bangs out of his eyes. “I thought the meeting agreement was for Hoseok to come. Why are you here?”

Yoongi scoffed. “Did you really think, after everything you guys have done, that we’d trust Hoseok to come here alone with just one of us?”

“And let me guess…” He watched Kihyun as he took a step forward. “…you’re watching the back in case we try to do something underhanded?”

“Nope.”

He tried not to relish in the frown that Kihyun gave him. The heavy thudding of his heartbeat only elevated the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Every square inch of him felt as cold as ice. But he could feel the fire pouring from his eyes.

Yoongi looked at Kihyun, his eyes shifting ever so slightly to the left. He saw the window slowly opening – silent. He would thank Taehyung later for oiling all the windows and doors on every side of the warehouse except for the front.

He pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke at Kihyun. Flashing his gummy smile, his eyes narrowed as he tilted his head back slightly.

“I’m in the back so I can blow it up.”

And with a quick flick of his wrist, Yoongi threw the cigarette through the open window.

The explosion that soon followed knocked them all back.

Taehyung’s back hurt.

He’d been perched in the rafters for hours – having arrived at the factory long before anyone else appeared. There was an almost methodical madness to how carefully he oiled all the door hinges and window panes that didn’t come from the front of the warehouse. He was wired from both adrenaline and caffeine, knowing full well that today would be the day that everything would end. He knew his brothers were on edge, both from the planning and from the unpredictable nature that he exuded constantly.

But he had to be. Taehyung knew that if they knew what truly ticked around in his mind, they would do everything in their power to keep him from coming along. They would have left him behind.

And he’d be damned if that happened.

There was a single skylight in the factory situated dead in the center of the roof. Taehyung’s team already made short work of the lackeys that tried to come to the roof earlier that morning. No upper tiered members of the Jade Fangs were on rooftop duty. Taehyung already made a mental note of where everyone else was.

Hyungwon and Jooheon were patrolling the left side of the building; the side where Namjoon and his team were. One of Taehyung’s team was already deep inside of the factory, following the blueprint that Namjoon gave him, taking him straight to where the main gas line was. Once he finished cutting the line, he was to head to the boiler room.

Kihyun and Minhyuk supervised the back side of the factory, in case they were flanked. Yoongi was there with his group. He was the “gunshot” that would start the race. He was the only one who would be able to catch them off guard. Besides, he knew that Yoongi was also a bit of a pyromaniac and wouldn’t have been satisfied if he wasn’t the one to set off the explosion.

Which left Shownu, Wonho and Changkyun on the inside. Hoseok and Seokjin were sent in not as bait, but as a distraction. Then it would be time to bring the entire building down on top of their heads. Blood would be spilt. Lives would be lost.

Taehyung would eviscerate them all.

The building shook violently, causing Taehyung to grip onto the metal rafters. He leaned forward; one knee pressed into the beam beneath him. Shouts of confusion were heard from below him and he flashed a manic grin where no one could have the pleasure to see. Screams of pain resounded as glass shattered from below, his eyes searching for Seokjin. He was already making his way around a set of crates, having swiftly dispatched several Jade Fang members during all the chaos.

More glass broke and metal doors were slammed wide open. Dozens of Golden Jackal members flooded the factory, tangling themselves in a fight. The glass covering from the skylight also shattered, raining down into the factory. Several ropes dropped from the ceiling and Taehyung stood to his full height as his team descended from the open hatch. Some dropped to the ground while others swung from their ropes, landing on top of unsuspecting lackeys. Blood spewed as knives plunged into bodies from both sides.

Taehyung ran, jumping out as far as he could and stretching his arms out. He grasped onto a rope, swinging around until his leather gloved hands allowed him to slide down. He shoved his body around, changing his trajectory in mid-air so he was heading straight for the manager’s office.

His legs extended out as he watched Shownu scrambling to his feet. Taehyung crashed his heels directly into Shownu’s chest, knocking him back. As he straddled the older man’s hips, he quickly unsheathed the large hunting knife from his back – aiming it straight for Shownu’s chest.

He grunted when Shownu used his arms to block the blow – their forearms crashing into one another. Taehyung’s arms shook violently as he tried to force them down, watching the blade getting closer and closer to Shownu’s throat. He could feel the capillaries in his eyes exploding, his vision blurring momentarily, before a scream erupted from his lungs.

Releasing one hand from the hilt of the knife, Taehyung punched furiously at Shownu’s rib cage. The older man attempted a counterattack, using his knee to slam into Taehyung’s back. The force of the blow caused him to fall forward and he felt Shownu’s fingers closing in around his throat. Taehyung continued to punch him even as he felt the air being choked from him.

He punched him one more time, using his fingers to dig into Shownu’s side. He buried them, like he was digging through mud for shells. He twisted his fingers and pulled, tearing through the fabric of the other man’s shirt.

Turning his head and leaning forward, Taehyung snapped his teeth into Shownu’s knuckles. He bit through the skin, blood spraying into his mouth. The older man screamed but he could barely hear it over the noise of battle being waged all around them. He pulled his hand from Shownu’s side, gripped his other hand, and put all his weight down.

The blade slowly buried itself into Shownu’s chest.

Hoseok’s knee crashed into the ground as Changkyun struggled to maintain his own footing. The two men glared at each other just as the noises from outside became more and more prevalent. Hoseok smirked as he saw Changkyun race to the window, peering out to the factory floor below. He managed to get back onto his feet just as the Jade Fang’s leader turned to glance over his shoulder at him. Hoseok took pleasure in seeing the snarl forming on the man’s face.

“You,” he snapped, turning around to face him again.

Hoseok dusted off the backs of his pants, his arms going up into a defensive stance as his hands curled into fists. “Yes. Me.”

Changkyun quickly raced to the other side of the room, his hand sliding under the table. Hoseok narrowed his eyes when he next turned around, a knife held in his hand. He scoffed. Maybe he would have been surprised if Taehyung hadn’t already told him what was hidden there.

“So, you expected me to come unarmed, but then have a knife hidden away?” Hoseok shook his head. “I’m so fuckin’ disappointed in you right now.”

“Shut-up!”

Changkyun ran at him, his arm striking out to slash at Hoseok’s neck. But he was faster because he was thinking clearly. He wasn’t about to let anyone stop him from accomplishing what he wanted to do on this day.

He dodged, side-stepping Changkyun at the last second. Reaching up to his lips, Hoseok pulled out the small razor he had hidden in his mouth. Ducking the next blow, he slung his arm upward and slashed over where Changkyun’s right eye was. A stream of blood sprayed and Changkyun moved to cover one hand over his eye as a trail of crimson leaked from beneath his palm.

Dropping the razor, he closed the distance between them as Changkyun attempted another assault. But with his depth-perception thrown off, he swung blindly. Hoseok slammed his elbow into his chest, aiming a backfist to his throat, and used his other hand to quickly disarm him. Before the knife could fall to the floor, Hoseok was already snatching it out of the air.

Spinning around on his back heel, he roughly slammed his back into Changkyun’s chest – forcing his body to bang against the door. Hoseok pulled his arms forward, then swung them back. A sickening squelch noise followed as he plunged the knife directly into Changkyun’s gut. He felt the younger man struggling against him, but he put all his weight backward – his shoulder blades pressing into his chest so that Changkyun wouldn’t be able to wriggle himself free.

“H-Hyung,” he heard Changkyun choke out, his hand reaching out to grasp onto Hoseok’s shoulder, “don’t do this. We…we can help each other…”

Taking a step back, Hoseok buried the knife further into Changkyun’s stomach – watching the blood forming a small puddle by his feet.

“…you can fucking die is what you can do.”

Seokjin swore under his breath, eyeballing the small cut on his leg. He hadn’t meant to get caught off guard, but there was so much happening around him. Things got less hairy when Namjoon’s team managed to make it inside. Even in the middle of all the craziness, Seokjin was glad they weren’t having to deal with guns. This would have ended bloodier than it needed to.

His eyes darted in every direction and he barked orders when he needed to as Taehyung’s team swept down from the ceiling. Namjoon was in the thick of it with his people and some of Yoongi’s squad managed to make it inside. There was a hint of worry when he hadn’t been able to locate Yoongi, but he knew he had to trust his brothers to be able to take care of themselves.

If he couldn’t at least do that, then what good was their bond?

The door to the manager’s office flew open, the loud bang rattling throughout all the noise of the fighting. Seokjin’s eyes followed the sound and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Hoseok stumbling out of the door. He nearly tripped on something, seeing Taehyung catching Hoseok at the last second before he could fall. The two of them exchanged words before Taehyung jumped from the catwalk, his arms grabbing for the ropes so he could swing down to the main floor to join the fight. From what Seokjin could tell, Hoseok hadn’t sustained any injuries.

There was movement in Hoseok’s blind spot. Seokjin wasn’t sure if it was one of their people or a Jade Fang member. Not until the very last second.

“HOSEOK-AH!”

Their eyes locked momentarily, but there wasn’t any time. Running from his hiding spot, Seokjin scooped up a discarded knife. He slid to the center of the bottom floor and flung his arm out and upward. Hoseok jumped out of the way just as the knife buried itself in Changkyun’s throat. They watched the Jade Fang’s leader fall backward, presuming that he would not be getting up a second time.

A grateful smile passed over Hoseok’s lips, but soon snapped to surprise as he looked back at Seokjin.

“HYUNG!”

Suddenly, Seokjin felt his body flung to the side. His head hit the ground and the rest of him followed suit. The pain erupted seconds afterwards, his hand reaching up to grasp at the area where his nerves were screaming at him. Fingers caressed something cold and slender. When he pulled, his pain receptors went off like alarms and he screamed, looking around at who was responsible for the assault. As he craned his neck around to see, he spied the rod-like object poking out from his side. Something dribbled from his mouth and he didn’t have to guess to know that it was his own blood.

When he searched around in desperation, his eyes locked with Minhyuk who was holding a crossbow – watching him already reloading the next bolt.

Bodies moved around him in a blur – all of them screaming and fighting for their own lives. They were distracted. None of them realized what was happening.

No one except Hoseok.

Seokjin grinned, crawling to his knees. He could hear Hoseok’s feet thudding along the metal stairs, but he knew he wouldn’t make it in time. He was ready to face this head on. However, what he hadn’t expected was Minhyuk to shift his aim.

To Hoseok.

Eyes wide, Seokjin quickly scrambled to his feet and lunged forward in Hoseok’s direction. He knew his brother wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around him. He was too focused on getting to Seokjin. But by doing so, he was putting himself in danger.

Seokjin knew he had to block his path.

It was like he could sense it. He jumped up and out to the left. Pain blossomed over his back and all feeling from his legs down seemed to disappear. He collapsed into the ground, dirt filling his nostrils, and he cried out in agony as he dug his fingers into the concrete. Soon, he could feel the texture of his own blood mixed with the dirt under his fingernails.

“HYUNG!”

Seokjin couldn’t see, but he knew it was Taehyung’s voice. He blindly reached out, grabbing for what he assumed was Taehyung’s ankle. “H-Hoseok-ah,” he choked out between coughing up blood, “…get him out of here.”

“B-But Hyung—”

“DO IT!”

He felt the ankle leaving his grasp and Seokjin prayed that Taehyung would listen to him. Hoseok had to get out of there. They all had to go. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he was going to make it. Not now; not when he was coughing up blood. Something was internally damaged. He was most likely hemorrhaging already.

Curling onto his side, he grasped at the bolt protruding from him and gripped onto it as hard as he could. As he pulled, visions of Anastasia flashed through his mind, giving him pause. For a moment, he forgot about the pain; he forgot about the world around him.

All he could see was the woman he loved standing in the far corner of the factory as she held their beautiful son. He stretched his arm out, reaching for them as if he could touch them. Tears leaked from his eyes as he smiled – the world blurring and getting just a little bit darker.

…I’m sorry, Ana, he thought, the weight of his arm starting to get heavier, …I’m not going to be able to keep this promise…I love you… He felt his elbow hit the concrete, followed by his head.

I’m going to see my brothers now. Forgive me…

Everything grew quiet around him.

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