#acceptance is one word but there's something more vicarious and dark in it that acceptance doesn't connote | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marshmallowprotection · 6 months

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Ipomoea Alba

Pairing: Vampire Ray/Reader Description: Just like the moonflower, he only blooms at night, but you don't seem to be bothered by that. More than anything, you welcome it with delight. Word Count: 2,821 [Read on AO3]

You melted into his embrace just as he wanted you to.

That look in your bright eyes never doubted him for a single second, and for that, he was grateful. Certainly, you were a gift from the heavens for someone as damned as him. You didn’t think of him as a heartless monster who no longer had any bearings of a soul. You smiled at him as if he weren’t a poisonous snake in a garden just waiting to snap out and bite your heels.

You held out your hand and let him wrap his arms around you, allowing him the chance to live vicariously through you for a single moment to remember what it felt like to have blood pumping through his veins.

You didn’t see him as a damned thing, meant to rot in the darkness forever, you saw him as someone to cherish just as much as the moonflowers in the garden you offered to tend to during the day to allow him the chance to see them truly thrive under the moonlight! Just like Ray, he could only truly bloom at night, but unlike him, the flowers needed the sunlight to be able to grow.

The sunlight would no longer allow him the opportunity to thrive, as it would serve to destroy him if he ever set foot in it again without a thick umbrella to shield him from its devastating UV rays.

Nevertheless, you were his beam of light.

If he could no longer experience the light of the sun on his pale face, he could experience something that was just as good, if not better. Your smile was no different than the stars in the sky. He almost had to raise a gloved hand to his face whenever you smiled because the warm, fuzzy feeling it inspired made him feel like he was alive again. The feeling was brief but in a life that was destined to be eternal, your smile would forever remain etched in his memory. There was something about you that made him feel alive. How could he ever let your smile slip through his fingers?

That was why he had no choice but to bring you to paradise. He had to whisk you far away from the outside world before one of the monsters got their hands on you and tainted your opinion of those who were forced to accept the darkness with no help in sight. Those unruly vampire hunters would only serve to ruin you. He wouldn’t dare allow any of them to destroy your hands with the innocent. Those bastards… he knew what they would do if they got their hands on you.

They would use you as nothing more than bait, dangling like a shiny toy in front of unruly vampires who were nothing like him or his Savior. They would allow you to experience the horrors of the night, not only showing you that they could care less for your humanity but also allowing you to see a disjointed perspective of creatures just like him. If they twisted your arm like that, it would only make you hate humanity and him. He couldn't stomach the thought of you hating him, or you hating your humanity, the humanity in your heart… the blood in your veins… it was what made you special to him.

You were different from the rest of them!

Pure, compassionate, and hopeful.

Ray couldn't stand by and allow anyone to ruin his honeysuckle forever.

He would never be able to forgive himself if those hunters touched you. Even if they didn't set their sights on you at the same time he did, he knew it was only a matter of time because they were always on the lookout for somebody just like you. Somebody with a sparkle in their bright eyes who would do anything to help others, and that kind of innocence had to be protected. If it wasn't for him and people like his Savior, there would be no hope for people like you.

He would keep you safe with him, in a tower too tall for any human to climb, as he gave you everything you would ever need to be comfortable. You were better off that way, he knew. As long as you had that, why would you want to leave?

Why would you ever stray from his side when he could take care of you forever?

Why go back to a world that could manipulate and use you?

Why go back to a world that would readily use you as nothing more than bait and cast you aside the minute you were too vulnerable to help them get their desires fulfilled?

Why do that to yourself when you could instead stay with him forever? Of course, he didn't intend to place such a request in your hands without making sure that you were okay with it first, but until that day came, he intended to give you the best of the best. He knew it would only be a matter of time until you were ready to join him, but until that day, until you looked him in the eyes and said you were ready to join him forever in eternal bliss, Ray wanted to give your mortal life the moon.

He… wanted to give you the world he could never experience… so there would never be a shadow of regret in the eyes he cherished. Those bright eyes of yours would never fall to the darkness. He would never allow that to happen. Not on his watch. You would never fall to those hunters… they wouldn’t destroy you. He wouldn’t let them. Your eyes were his to protect.

You didn't deserve to see the cruelty of the world, you only deserved to see the beauty and he would create that beauty in this haven. You didn't deserve regret, you deserved everything the world had to give because you were his light. You didn't deserve their miserable world built on lies and pain, you deserved happiness and he would make it eternal happiness in this paradise built for two.

How could he deny his sunshine the experience they deserved? How could he deny you everything he ever imagined for you in his dreams? No way, you would have everything Ray could give, and that was that. Anything and everything, no matter what it was, he would get it for you so your smile could continue to grow.

The only thing he wanted was a blissful life that allowed you to experience everything you ever dreamed of. There was nothing wrong with that. How could he ever be wrong in wanting to give you the world? There could never be anything wrong with wanting to give you everything. You deserved it for being perfect. You were perfect in every sense of the word and he would never let anyone say otherwise.

The happier he could make you, the brighter his hands could make you smile, and the warmer you could make him feel only served to remind him of how the work was worth it. Everything he was doing to keep you safe was worth the effort, and he would abide by that belief since your smile never dwindled for a moment since you came into his life. It only grew, he repeated that thought to himself as you were swept away into his arms as soon as you lowered your guard and accepted his desire.

“Ray,” your pulse quickened as soon as his lips pressed against your throat. “I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to see you tonight. The sun’s going to rise soon… I don’t want you to get burned.”

He chuckled. Of course, you were only concerned with his well-being. You weren't the type to think about your safety at a time like this, even though you should’ve thought of yourself first. He didn't want to hurt you… nor did he want to drain the essence of your life, but it was so sweet against his lips. He couldn't deny how sweet it was to taste your blood as it was the only thing he could think about for months.

Ever since the night he saw you walking alone through the city streets on an errand for his Savior, the intoxicating aroma of your scent permeated his senses like nothing else!

He couldn’t forget how sweet you smelled. Just like honeysuckle, jasmine with a hint of vanilla. If he could have it every day for the rest of his life, he knew that he would take it without hesitation, yet the only thing that held him back was the fear that he might take just a bit too much. If it was too sweet, he would want to drink until there was nothing left to drink. If Ray did that, he would never be able to forgive himself, he knew. There was a limit to how much of your blood he could taste to fulfill himself. He saw the offer to taste you as a reward for a job well done.

Oh, how you reminded him of a floral cake he once tasted before he’d lost his humanity. Your blood was decadent. It was a treat. It was warm and sweet just like a pastry topped with cream. It didn't matter how far away you were in paradise, just as long as you were within his vicinity as you were, your scent clung to him like a fine layer of dust clung to forgotten memories in an attic.

It was enough to send him into a frenzy.

That was the most difficult part about being away from you. As long as he was with you, he wouldn't allow himself to feel frenzied for more, but when he was away from you? If he had to be away from you for a long period of time, your taste clung to his tongue and made all other blood feel disgusting. Sure, he could stomach other blood to survive, but it would never be as good as yours.

Nothing would ever be as good as your blood.

It was made just for him, as the Savior once told him that very sweet blood meant that a human was meant to belong to that vampire forever as their mate. Of course, he didn't dare tell the Savior that that was what your blood tasted like to him. If she knew that he had found the one for him, he feared that he might be in a position where he would have to turn you before you were ready. He couldn't bear the thought of having to force you to decide before you were ready to be with him, so he bit his tongue and held back just for the sake of being able to experience your blood for a little bit longer. It wasn't a bad thing. Ray knew it wouldn't be forever, just until he was ready, just until you were ready, and that day would come soon enough.

But, for now, he wanted to relish the moment with you as a human, and nothing would get in the way of that.

“I couldn’t go another moment without you,” he murmured. His teeth were right there, inches from your thundering pulse that beckoned him to take a bite. He wasn’t lying at that proclamation, either. He could only go so long without seeing you before his body began to tremble with desire. That impulse was becoming harder and harder to ignore every day that passed him by, and this time, he couldn't ignore it no matter how much he wanted to. Ray knew he would have to make up for it the following evening, but it was worth it because being with you was all he wanted.

A fleeting moment could be a moment that becomes forever, after all.

Your fingers let him know how fast your mind was traveling. You trembled against his suit jacket, both of your hands desperate to hold onto him, and despite that, you knew Ray wouldn’t let you fall. Even if you knew he wouldn't let you fall and hurt yourself, you wanted to hold on to him just as much as he wanted to hold on to you, right? The desire was pooling inside of your heart just as his, right?

“I needed to see you, my honeysuckle. Any moment spent away from you brings me agony…” his voice floated into your ears and excited you. He could feel the way blood pumped faster all over your body as soon as you heard his voice. “I’m sorry to ask this of you so soon, but I need…”

“Take it,” you said, leaving no moment of hesitation lingering between you. You grasped at his well-kept hair and tangled your fingers in it just the way he liked it. Even if all that time he spent trying to keep himself well-groomed and proper for your sake was rubbed away by your excited hands, he would never be upset by it. You could do anything you wanted to him as long as it made you plead like that. “Take as much blood as you need, Ray.”

You were just as intoxicated with him as he was with you, right?

Any sort of uncertainty that persisted in his veins before he came to see you dissipated almost all at once as you leaned into his touch, quietly asking for more without saying the words for it, and he knew at that moment that you would give him everything. The fact that you would give him everything excited him. Your innocence deserved the best reward he could give.

His mouth opened as his fangs descended upon your skin. You didn’t shy away. “Don’t worry… I’ll clean up my mess.”

Just like that, his fangs dug into your supple flesh and your blood flowed out like an open stream into his waiting maw. His tongue fluttered over the surface of the fresh wound and your body quivered in response. A breathless gasp escaped you, alongside something filled with desire, a whimper that wanted to ask for more but would never find the words to ask him to unleash what he was afraid of. You wanted him but if he ever let you whisper such words, he would never be able to hold himself back.

He drank his fill without a second thought. He knew when it would be too much for you, he knew when you would slowly lose control of your body and slump over to the floor and exhaustion, and he knew when you wouldn't be able to handle him. He took so much careful thought in planning out how to get a taste of you without taking away too much.

That's what Ray wanted to say.

He wanted to say that he planned everything and that he always had his composure, but when it came to you, his honeysuckle, everything else went out the window because he wanted more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more—

He had no choice, but if you continued to beg for more when his lips were determined to get just a taste of you, how long would it be before he lost control?

How long until he couldn't bring himself to hold back?

Would it be so bad if he brought you over to his side? Would it be so bad if he finally gave in to his urges? Would it be so bad if he allowed you to join him forever? Would it be so wrong to let go of his composure for just a moment to see what it would feel like to watch your eyes roll back, your fingers quiver, and your body slump against him with nowhere to turn to but him? Would it be wrong to let himself indulge in what he always wanted?

Would it be so wrong?

“R—Ray…”

Delicious.

“Please…”

So sweet.

“...!”

More!

Your voice brought him back to reality as you let out a whimper unlike the one you did just as he started, and he pulled back so his red-tinted eyes could meet yours, and blood dribbled down from his lips. Your blood stained his skin but he couldn’t care less about that. It didn't seem as though you cared about that, either.

Your trembling arms were weightless against his shoulders; His arms were the only thing keeping you afloat.

You were still smiling at him, a glossy look in your eyes that was filled with pleasure and delight, and melted at the sight of his unhinged state. “Ray…” you uttered once more, his name being the only comprehensible thought on your lips as you clung to him for tender love and care.

“My sweet, sweet honeysuckle in the palm of my hand… You’ll be mine forevermore.”

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yhwhrulz · 7 months

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Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional: October 16th

Tozer in the Morning Priceless Exchange

A great preacher whom I heard a few years ago said that the word "renew" in Isaiah 40:31 really meant "exchange"; so the text should read, "They that wait upon the Lord shall exchange their strength." Oddly enough I do not now remember how he developed his sermon or just how he applied the text, but I have been thinking lately that the man had hit upon a very important idea; namely, that a large part of Christian experience consists of exchanging something worse for something better, a blessed and delightful bargain indeed. At the foundation of the Christian life lies vicarious atonement, which in essence is a transfer of guilt from the sinner to the Saviour. I well know how vigorously this idea is attacked by non-Christians, but I also know that the wise of this world in their pride often miss the treasures which the simple-hearted find on their knees; and I also remember the words of the apostle; "He hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him" (2 Corinthians 5:21). This is too plain to miss for anyone who is not willfully blind: Christ by His death on the cross made it possible for the sinner to exchange his sin for Christ's righteousness. It's that simple. No one is compelled to accept it, but at least that is what it means. And that is only the beginning. Almost everything thereafter is an exchange of the worse for the better. Next after the exchange of sin for righteousness is that of wrath for acceptance. Today the wrath of God abides upon a sinning and impenitent man; tomorrow God's smile rests upon him. He is the same man, but not quite, for he is now a new man in Christ Jesus. By penitence and faith he has exchanged the place of condemnation for the Father's house. He was rejected in himself but is now accepted in the Beloved, and this not by human means but by an act of divine grace.

Tozer in the Evening Acting Out Unbelief

Human sin began with loss of faith in God. When our mother Eve listened to Satans sly innuendoes against the character of God she began to entertain a doubt of His integrity and right there the doors were opened to the incoming of every possible evil, and darkness settled upon the world. The Bible talks about mans being alienated from and an enemy to God. Should this sound harsh or extreme you have only to imagine your closest personal friend coming to you and stating in cold seriousness that he no longer has any confidence in you. I do not trust you. I have lost confidence in your character. I am forced to suspect every move you make. Such a declaration would instantly alienate friends by destroying the foundation upon which every friendship is built. Until your former friends opinion of you had been reversed there could be no further communion. Only a restored faith could bring about a restored friendship. Now, it is well known that people do not go boldly to God and profess that they have no confidence in Him, and no one except the rare professional unbeliever is willing to witness publicly to his low view of God. The frightful thing, however, is that people everywhere act out their unbelief with a consistency that is more convincing than words.

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cosmicaddress · 1 year

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ESPer talent: Necroscope

“I know more than you can possibly imagine. And what I don’t know I can get to know -- almost anything.” --Harry Keogh

Necroscopes are the very rarest types of ESPer, so rare that it is thought that there have never been more than three in existence at any given time throughout all of recorded history. Literally speaking, “necroscope” means an instrument for viewing the dead. While this is perhaps not the most technically accurate term—“necrophone” might almost be better since the psychic communication most closely imitates speaking—it nonetheless conveys this rarest of extrasensory talents well. A necroscope can communicate with the dead, speak with them, learn from them, and even at times, channel them. They have been described by those lying in their graves as light in the darkness because they are someone for the dead to talk to in their quiet isolation, a medium through which they can complete the things their deaths forced them to leave undone.

As we mentioned earlier, the dead lie in their graves quietly, no longer able to manipulate their body (at least so they think). There is no conventional way to communicate with the dead; they cannot read, hear, or speak. They do not know touch unless the person touching them is a necromancer, one with a particular psychic ability to rend the soul by destroying the body. Blind, deaf, and dumb, there is no way for ordinary people to reach them … but necroscopes are no ordinary people.

The activities of necromancers notwithstanding, the dead want to talk. The difference between a necroscope and a necromancer is that a necromancer forces his victims to surrender their truths under torture. A necroscope’s approach is gentler; necroscopes are typically accepted as peers, and the dead are willing to share with them. It’s human nature to want to show off if you’ve got something or to talk with anyone if you’re lonely. As a general rule, necroscopes are congenial people interested in bettering the world around them. Arrogant and hostile necroscopes often find their contacts have little to say. This rejection alone is usually sufficient to open their minds up to the sufferings of others.

Necroscopes bypass the ordinary physical media of communications and speak with the dead directly, one mind to another. Most of the time, it is equivalent to simply speaking with the dead, having a conversation as one would with any living person. Give and take, presenting thoughts as words, etc. This level of communication—words and sentences—is known as “deadspeaking.”

However, if the necroscope trusts the dead person (which they generally can, since few dead people are likely to double-cross the only person they can talk to), it can become a very intimate communication style.

The necroscope can open the channel wider, not forcing thoughts and knowledge to be throttled through mere words but instead allowing for gestalt communication—conversation not through granular words and sentences but through living ideas. The reason such communication requires trust is that, at these times, the differentiation between one mind and another begins to blur, and opening your inner mind to another consciousness is a concept most people are loathe to try.

This technique, known as “vectoring,” is how the necroscope can learn skills from the dead. By communing with the dead and living their experiences vicariously, a necroscope can build up a store of knowledge and training in a short amount of time. Vectoring can also be used to access the skills of the dead and use them as a sort of library for personal use. For example, with vectoring, a necroscope who speaks only English can contact a dead bilingual and begin talking in a second language using the deceased’s skills. This is how the line between consciousnesses is blurred, then: one brain can access the memories of another as if they were its own.

And if the line can be blurred, be sure that it can be removed altogether. This is known as “channeling,” and at these times, it may seem as though the necroscope is a person possessed. The two minds, necroscope and dead, become as one, each drawing on the full store of knowledge of the other. Not simply knowledge, though, but also fears, mannerisms, idiosyncrasies, accents, and style. For the necroscope, this is a method of quickly accessing knowledge that would otherwise take long months or even years to learn. Why study brain surgery from a renowned doctor when you can channel him right now and save your friend’s life?

The deceased gets a gift, as well, the chance to live again, only for a short while and in someone else’s body to be sure, but to live again and practice and display those skills which were learned in life and honed in the quiet of death. The channeled spirit must access the instinctive balance and awareness of the body that the necroscope carries with him, but the actions are those of the channeled personality.

When channeling, the necroscope cannot hold anything back if it is to work. He must yield control of his body to become a dual personality with the dead person in command. The necroscope’s consciousness is forced into the cerebellum and brain stem to ensure that the body continues functioning. It is up to the channeled personality to voluntarily leave the living shell, or else the necroscope must force the interloper out through willpower alone. This is why a necroscope should never attempt to channel a willful and devious person. To do so is to invite a long and difficult battle of wills with someone with nothing to lose.

#jcink premium #jcink roleplay #jcink rp #jcink sci fi #jcink horror #rp: wrinkles & voids #rp: the destroying angel #rp: the cosmic address #tda

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linkspooky · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on the Pro-Hero's discussion about Shigaraki and his hatred from chapter 311?

My thoughts are this, from both Jeanist and Hawks utter cluelessness to why Dabi could possibly have turned into a villain despite Dabi just telling them why, on tv, and being next to the man who pushed him into it, and from how all three of them fail to understand how Shigaraki could have been so easily groomed into hatred reflects an unacknowledged shadow for all three of them.

In Jungian psychology the concept of the shadow exists. The Shadow is an unconscious aspect of the personality which is outside of the conscious ego. While our consciousness is mainly made out of behaviors and memories, we judge as positive, and our Shadow differentiates by holding emotions, behaviors, and memories we label as adverse or painful. In a shadow, constructive perspectives might be incorporated, but most of the parts remain camouflaged under the thumb points of low self-esteem ness, anxieties, and false beliefs. "Everyone carries a shadow," stated Jung "and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. To know yourself, you must accept your dark side. To deal with others' dark hands, you must also know your dark side.

In other words, for characters like Enji and Hawks, all of their bad traits define them just as much as their good traits, to be a whole and complete person they have to recognize those bad traits instead of being in denial of them however, both of them choose to only see themselves as heroes.

Anyway, now for something completely different. Let’s talk about batman and the joker. Batman uses Jungian symbolism a lot, of all the heroes he’s the most famous for being a normal person, who dresses in a costume to fight crime specifically in shadowed alleyways, and has a rogues gallery that also consists of mostly normal people in costumes. Batman’s villains are batman. Batman plays with both the relationship between himself and his villains, and also the relatinoship between Bruce and his own Shadow, because his Shadow is part of who he is.

Now the most iconic batman villain is obviously the joker, and he’s a character like All for One who most of the time is just written as a character who does evil for evil’s sake, but more serious looks at the Joker like The Killing Joke which My Hero Academia directly references make this comparison between the two of them. The famous One Bad Day speech is also, notably, an attempt for Joker to connect to batman, to try to explain himself to him.

He’s not just spouting a villain speech, he’s also looking for sympathy and trying to give sympathy, because that’s just what humans do. Because deep down, both Batman and the Joker were normal people once. The connection between Batman and the Joker is that they were both normal people, but one of them became a hero, and the other one a villain, and therefore that potential exists in any normal person.

However, the heroes in MHA still don’t acknowledge their connection to the villains. Hawks and Enji did apologize yes, but what’s also important is their actions after, which is to choose to continue fighting villains as heroes.

It’s been pointed out by Shoto before that what Enji really needs to do to heal his family, is act like a good father, rather than a good hero. However, when given the chance to reach out to his son, he chooses to fight it instead. There’s a reason that the public isn’t reassured by the actions of Hawks, Jeanist and Endeavor and that’s because they continue to keep playing heroes instead of acknowledging what’s wrong. I’m not saying they are good or bad people, both Hawks and Enji have bad sides of their personality that they are almost completely ignorant of. They, like any human being have the potential to be driven to villainy. That’s why Enji can’t reach out to his son, because his brains have still made the connection that he was what drove Toya to villainry.

It comes across in the casualness which Enji remarks upon what AFO did to Shigaraki and the complete lack of self awareness. Enji did the same thing, he had a child for the sake of passing on his quirk, raised that child to hate all might and want to do anything to surpass him, and he even wanted to live vicariously through the success of Toya and then Shoto so everyone would know him as Endeavor’s son. He still only cares about Toya to the extent that his dreams were once resting on him.

So when Enji makes the connection to AFO, he asserts that there must be something wrong with him to do all those bad things, because he’s unaware of the resmeblance between his own deeds and AFO’s. He sees himself as a human being with reasons for his bad actions, he didn’t mean to neglect Toya, he didn’t know what to say to him, he was too guilty and hid from his guilt for so long but he doesn’t allow his enemies to have that guilt. This is a pattern that repeats with Hawks, and Jeanist as well, they can’t understand why people like Twice and Dabi would feel like they have a right to be angry at the society that mistreated them.

Jeanist’s defense is why can’t he just keep quiet about it.

Twice’s last words were hating Hawks and wishing the worst for him, yet Hawks still thinks they were best friends somehow.

Hawks and Twice were not friends, because Hawks chose not to be his friend, and to hurt what was most precious to Twice which was all of his other friends. Enji chose not to be a father to Toya and not be a father. Enji and Hawks are neither heroes nor villains, they are not good or bad, they’re just humans and as humans they have the potential to be both.

In only seeing the hatred that Shigaraki was groomed to have they’re also fundamentally misunderstanding him. The thing is Shigaraki has reasons for his hatred, and not just because AFO forced him to feel that way. It’s not just AFO, that’s what they critically misunderstand, it’s Shigaraki’s experiences with how the society around him has neglected both him and his friends.

That’s something that the heroes can never see, because Shigaraki has been assigned the role of a villain who hates society. It’s not just AFO, Shigaraki can’t be at peace with a society that is designed to reject others.

That doesn’t come from his hate either, it comes from his sympathy with the victims. Just like they only see their own good traits, they can only see the villain’s bad traits. The thing is we have witnessed Shigaraki constantly been challenged on the fact that he only has empty hatred, first by Stain, then by Chisaki, and finally be Re-Destro. We also witnessed the moment he changed.

The conclusion Shigaraki comes to as the result of his arc is that while he himself doesn’t care about the people, he’s not alone anymore, he wants to give the future to the others around him.

That’s why Shigaraki’s actions aren’t driven just by hatred, but also by a deeply broken sense of empathy. Not only is he a crying child himself, he’s also someone who acknowledges the feelings of others. What converted Spinner from being someone who didn’t particularly care about the goals of the league, and doubted Shigaraki in front of everyone to his most loyal follower.

It’s because he came to recognize that this human side of Shigaraki was there. The same way that underneath his mask, Spinner was just a pathetic NEET struggling with his own feelings of inadequacy, Shigaraki gets close to broken people, he tries to protect them, he tries to give some kind of validation to their feelings.

Shigaraki has grown from just hating all of society because it rejected him, to realizing the real reason is because it rejects everyone around him. That means while there’s hatred to his character, there’s also a very selfish and intense love that applies to a small group of people, but the potential for love is still there. Shigaraki reaches out and saves people the same way that Deku does, he tries to do all the fighting himself to protect others just like Deku, it’s just that he’s been hurt again and again and that’s twisted him to act on his worst trait. None of the heroes understand Shigaraki’s love, because they can only see his hate.

It’s not just that he’s been victimized or that he’s a crying child. Shigaraki is constantly compared to a child both in a negative sense as a man child, and a positive sense as a child pure heartedly pursuing their dream, because there is that potential within Shigarkai, to grow up, and grow into a better person if he was given the same chance to atone that characters like Hawks and Enji have already received.

Shigaraki and Deku just like batman and the joker both reflect that in perfectly normal people, there’s the chance for great good, or great evil. For Shigaraki there’s an added level of complexity, that you can still grow into a better person, after everyone has written you off as too far gone. You can still grow to love the people around you when you thought you were only capable of hating.

Enji and Hawks still have the oppurtunity to grow just like that, not as heroes, but as people.

However to truly grow as people they would have to learn to empathize with the villains, especially because they have done wrong things too, Hawks killed because he had to, Enji hurt his entire family. Defeating the villain really is not the solution, because sometimes you yourself are the villain.

In order to fully grow as people they have to learn to see themselves as people, and not heroes. That also means admitting the villains are just as human as they are. If Endeavor is someone who can become better after realizing that he made so many mistakes in the past and the only thing he can do about it is try to do better from now on, then Endeavor’s ending point should be realizing that since he was given that chance by his family, others deserve that chance too, especially his own son. People are not villains, or heroes, Endeavor is just Enji Todoroki and Dabi is Touya Todoroki deep down no matter how they see themselves.

#Anonymous #shigaraki tomura #afo #dabi #touya todoroki #hawks #twice #best jeanist

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sou-ver-2-0 · 4 years

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Why calling it "logic versus emotion" makes sense

At the end of chapter 2 in Your Turn To Die, the player is forced to choose between killing Sou or Kanna. Kanna frames this as a choice between "logic" and "emotion," where saving Sou is the "logical" choice and saving Kanna is the "emotional" choice.

Personally, I love the writing in this part. I think it's the strongest writing in the whole game. However, since joining the YTTD fandom, I've read various posts from fans who don't like calling this a simple choice between "logic" and "emotion." For them, it felt like an emotional choice to save Sou, while it was a logical choice to save Kanna. After seeing this argument so many times, I decided to unpack my feelings on it. I also wanted to write my own defense of why calling this a choice between "logic" and "emotion" makes sense, at least to me. For me, it all comes down to how it’s written as a choice between two opposing worldviews, and I don’t focus on the little technicalities. I’ll also argue that the game is using descriptive language, rather than prescriptive language.

But first, we have to deal with a strange irony about this choice:

For the genre-savvy player, yes, it IS "logical" to save Kanna and "emotional" to save Sou.

Before writing anything about this choice, I need to acknowledge that Sara and the Player are two different people. They're obviously connected, and they inform each other's feelings and choices, but they still exist in different worlds. Sara is actually trapped in a Death Game. The Player is vicariously experiencing what it would be like to be trapped in a Death Game through a fictional story.

I'm not going to argue that Sara necessarily likes Kanna more than she likes Sou, and thus it is more "emotional" for her to save Kanna. It's possible to play Sara as someone who isn't that affectionate of Kanna, and she can act generously towards Sou. That's not the main issue here.

The issue is that the Player expects the fictional story to go in certain directions based on the morality of their choices, while Sara has no such meta expectations. The Player can reasonably expect to be rewarded with a happy ending at the end of YTTD if they make the "correct" moral choices. Saving Kanna feels like the "morally correct" choice on a gut level because she's a child, while Sou is an adult. So the Player may choose to save Kanna purely for logical reasons. They're not trying to be selfless or wise; they just want a reward from a videogame. And...they're not wrong! Immediately after saving Kanna, the player is rewarded with a cathartic scene with Joe, cluing us in to the idea that choosing Kanna is the "good path."

Meanwhile, if the Player saves Sou, they're saving him in spite of knowing that this could logically lead to a "dark path." You might save Sou because he's a fascinating character, or because you're curious what will happen, or simply because you think he's cute. These are all emotional reasons. Maybe you don't expect any "happy" rewards if you save Sou, but you still expect the story to be exciting with him around.

Speaking for myself, I want to see both the Kanna and Sou routes for reasons that are both emotional and logical. I sympathize with both characters, and I want to analyze them as they continue their arcs. I just think they're great characters connected to fascinating themes about humanity.

In other words, the Player is going to have all sorts of feelings about this choice based on the safety of their separation from the Death Game. It's only a videogame to us. We're not actually killing a child or a young man. We still feel sad about the story, but it's a safe sadness, one we can control. You can make your choice based on which type of tragedy is more interesting to you in the moment.

So that's how the Player experiences the choice, but what about Sara? Does it still make sense to call it a decision between "logic" and "emotion" for her? I would argue, "yes." First of all...

"Logic" and "emotion" are descriptive terms for the argument styles of Kanna and Sou, respectively.

Using "descriptive" terminology means that we attempt to classify language as it is actually being used. Using "prescriptive" terminology means that we dictate how we should be using language.

When Kanna calls this a choice between logic and emotion, you might have thought she was being prescriptive. You might have thought something like, "You can't tell me how I should feel about this." But I think Kanna was simply being descriptive of the language she and Sou were using. It's a fair assessment of their opposing argument styles.

Kanna argues that you should vote for her by appealing to your sense of logic. She eloquently makes the case that Sou has proven himself invaluable to the team with his computer hacking skills. He came extremely close to finding an escape route just before the second Main Game began. With more time, he could find another one. If he dies, there is no one else in their party with his valuable skill set. She also effectively weaponizes her own helplessness by arguing that she is a "useless" child. She states that dying for the greater good "is the only thing she can do." What I love about Kanna's argument is how she twists Sou's own words against him, since Sou has been using coldhearted logical arguments since the beginning. She shows how much she's learned from him, and she's even able to outsmart him.

Sou argues that you should vote for him by appealing to your emotions. He furiously makes the case that he is the most hated member of the team and that you should give into your hatred of him. He says that the choice ought to be obvious based on your feelings. He calls Kanna stupid. He keeps shouting "Stop!" and "No!" He waves his arms in despair. He resorts to threats and exclaims that he will never forgive anyone who votes for Kanna. Sou's argument is compelling because we have never seen him so vulnerable before. Even with his strong will to live, he has an even more desperate will to save the little girl he's grown to care for. It's devastating to watch such a man break down. After losing his previous eloquence, he is forced to bare his soul and pray that that is enough.

However, even with all that in mind, you could still argue on a technicality that some of Kanna's statements are emotional while some of Sou's statements are logical. For example, when Kanna says that she is useless, this reflects her emotional state since she has low self-esteem. And when Sou starts threatening people, it's logical to take his threats seriously.

But there's something deeper at work here than technicalities. There's still something at the core of their arguments that makes the choice to save Sou "logical" and Kanna "emotional."

At its core, this debate is about how to measure a human life's worth. Do you measure a human life based on how "useful" they are? Or do you recognize a person's worth based on their humanity alone?

This is a choice between two worldviews, which the story calls "logical" and "emotional."

In the logical worldview, you prioritize a person's usefulness over their humanity for the greater good. Also, you must be willing to use people like tools for the greater good.

In the emotional worldview, you refuse to reject anyone's humanity, even if it threatens the greater good. Also, you must accept that some moral causes are more important than survival.

If you vote to save Sou, then Sara prioritizes the greater good; theoretically, the group can use Sou to escape. But being willing to use Sou this way rejects Sou's humanity, because we would be using his talents against his will. For Sou, escape is not worth the cost of Kanna's life. Sara also rejects her own humanity by treating both Sou and Kanna as objects instead of people. Kanna is discarded as a useless object, while Sou is kept as a potentially useful one. This is why Sara guiltily calls this "the worst possible choice" when she makes it. And it's why Sou seems to care more about revenge than survival in this route; there is no meaning in a world where we must sacrifice children.

If you vote to save Kanna, Sara does so knowing it may be harder for the group to escape without Sou's skills. But she embraces Sou's humanity by allowing him to follow his heart. She also strengthens her own humanity by refusing to cross a moral line. This is why Sou actually keeps his will to live in this route and mounts a desperate escape before his death. Because there's still meaning in a world where Kanna is allowed to live. He still dies, but with peace and purpose, and having repaid Sara for freeing his true heart.

In any case, you may still disagree with the semantics of "logic" and "emotion" to describe these worldviews, though they work for me personally. I have one more point to address.

Is it really logical to save someone who threatens you?

At this point, I'd like to talk about the most logical member of the group, the character who immediately votes to kill Kanna: Keiji Shinogi.

You, the Player, may believe that Sou will get his revenge if he lives, because it would make a compelling story. And Sara, a high-school student, may be reasonably afraid of Sou's threats, because Sou has tried to hurt her before. Even though the text doesn't portray Sara as being afraid of Sou in this moment, I understand why the Player would fear for Sara's life. In other words, a logical reason to kill Sou is because you don't believe you can control him. How do you force an adult man to behave?

Enter Keiji Shinogi, who doesn't hesitate. Keiji is stronger than Sou, and he's wicked smart. He's confident in his own abilities. And he understands vengeance better than anyone. He doesn't underestimate Sou, who has outwitted him before, but he decides to accept the risk. Like Sou, Keiji has a ruthless will. I believe that one reason Keiji voted first was because he wanted to assure everyone that "your friendly policeman" would keep Sou in line. So even though Sara doesn't act afraid of Sou in this moment, Keiji is there to calm any hypothetical fears the Player has.

And Keiji commits to this role! In the beginning of Chapter 3, in the route where Kanna dies, the first thing Sou does is disturb the group peace. He puts on his "tough" mask and pretends that he never really cared about Kanna. In response, as everyone else is fidgeting nervously, Keiji laughs and calls out Sou on his bullshit. He eviscerates Sou emotionally, effectively putting Sou in his place and forcing him to be submissive, for now. It's Keiji's way of reminding Sou that they already know how weak he is, and Sou isn't going to get away with any tricks under Keiji's watch. Even if Sou's only "trick" in this case is to pretend he has any pride left.

From a storytelling perspective, I'm sure that these two will keep playing their power games, and Sou is likely to regain the upper-hand eventually. But from an in-universe perspective, Keiji looks like he knows exactly what he's doing in this scene, and Sou looks like a fool who better do what he's told. That is, if he doesn't want Keiji to skewer his heart in front of everyone again.

So where am I going with this?

My most generous interpretation of Keiji's vote is that he decided that Sou's life had value inasmuch as he could use Sou. After all, it's not like Keiji spared Sou out of compassion. Keiji just said that he hated Sou more than anyone he's ever known--and Keiji already killed someone else he hated. The harsher interpretation of Keiji's vote is that he fully expects Sou to die later due to his zero percent survival rate, which would make Kanna's presence technically more of a "threat" to Keiji's own survival. However, I prefer to think that Keiji was swayed by Kanna's brilliant defense of Sou's usefulness. That's because Keiji isn't a simple monster; he's a complex man who still wants to "serve and protect" the group...in his own way.

To follow in Keiji's footsteps and vote with "logic" means that Sara decides to trust Keiji's judgment. We know that Keiji is one of the smartest and strongest characters, in addition to being Sara's reliable ally. This is why I think it's still "logical" for Sara to save Sou in spite of his threats. Because Keiji is still there.

Conclusion

That's why framing the choice as one between "logic" and "emotion" works for me. I see it as a choice between two worldviews, one in which people are valued for their usefulness, and the other in which people are valued for their humanity.

I understand that the Player is going to have their own thoughts and feelings about this choice. Believe me, I was heartbroken too! I really wanted Sou to redeem himself and live. And I think Sara even feels the same way, since she pleads "Don't kill our ally!" when Safalin threatens Sou. It's still possible that Sou could redeem himself in the route where he lives, but I imagine it will be more important that the Player faces consequences for killing Kanna. But no matter what happens in Chapter 3, it doesn't change the fact that it looked possible in Chapter 2 for Sou's skillset to save everyone, and everyone was operating under that mindset.

I think that the writing in this game is stellar so I wanted to defend the story's framing. It surprised me to see folks who had reacted to it differently, but that's all part of the fun. It got me thinking about how interesting it is that the Player and Sara view things differently. It also got me thinking that what seems like a logical choice in the moment could feel like the wrong decision in hindsight.

Thanks for reading!

#yttd #your turn to die #sou hiyori #kanna kizuchi #sara chidouin #keiji shinogi #shin tsukimi #kimi ga shine #your turn to die spoilers #meta #mine #this is absurdly long haha sorry #sou and kanna #my meta

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Inure (KSJ)

Inure: To accept and grow accustomed to something undesirable

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Banker!Seokjin x FinancialAdvisor!Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstandings, a bit of suggestive content (?) idiots to lovers (kinda)

Note: This was supposed to be out yesterday, but my dumbass fell asleep before I got to finish and polish it. I drank dumb bitch juice, apparently.

Summary: Having strict, overbearing parents meant expectations, and those expectations pushed you to be a financial advisor for the sake of making them proud. Worst idea ever. Well... Maybe not. Besides, you got to meet Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 6k

“Taehyung... I’ve told you that eating half of your cookies every time you make a new batch isn’t good for business. You’re lucky Jimin and Jeongguk like your treats so much or you would be here filing for bankruptcy.” I scolded the younger boy in front of me. Taehyung gave me a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Noona,” I sighed, shaking my head to relieve the small headache I had going on.

Taehyung was a good kid. Well... He was in his twenties, but he still had that childlike glow to him. But with the childlike glow came the less than logical decisions. “Tae, you still have loans to pay back and they’re coming up soon. I don’t want to be the pessimist, but it’s better to sell those cookies.”

Taehyung nodded, “Don’t worry! I got this!” He exclaimed, a determined grin on his face. “I’m sure you do, now you’re free to go do more fun things,” I chuckled, gathering all the paperwork that laid on my desk that detailed Taehyung’s finances. Boring stuff, really. “Thanks, Noona! Come by sometime, okay?” We waved goodbye, silence now encompassing my small plain office.

It wasn’t even lunch yet, and everything has already drained my will to stay awake. It’s not that I absolutely loathed my job. I enjoyed seeing Yoongi or Taehyung light up in joy when I told them they reached their business goal or answered their questions about the best way to save. It was satisfying.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t boring as hell sometimes.

Sometimes I wished I gave my parents a big middle finger and majored in art conservation. I’d rather be looking at 200-year-old paintings of dead people and bringing a portrait back to life rather than staring at paperwork with endless numbers printed on them. But, alas, I didn’t. Now here in Bangtan Village, I help the businesses (and occasional person) here thrive.

“Tired already?” My coworker, Hyejin, asked as she walked into my office. “An accurate observation,” I sighed, resting my forehead on my mahogany desk. “I assume Taehyung’s business is doing well then?” She chuckled, handing me some files that I’d have to look over later. “Now you know I can’t disclose client information, but let’s just say he’s lucky to have gluttons as friends.” I chuckled.

Hyejin snorted and shook her head. “That boy... Besides that I came in here to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner after work, but you really do look exhausted,” Hyejin’s face contorted into worry. She grabbed my face with both hands and moved it in different ways, looking at the consequences work related stress gave me. An acne breakout on my right temple, dark circles under my eyes, pale face. I’ll admit I didn’t look my best, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

I had to work.

“It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need more coffee,” I shrugged, gently moving away from her grasp. “Y/n, running on just coffee isn’t good for you either,” Hyejin pouted, gesturing to the 2 empty mug already sat on my desk. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t just not work,” I pointed out, “You haven’t taken any days off since you came down with the flu, in January, two years ago.” Hyejin deadpanned, “You need a break. I’m sure Yoongi and Taehyung won’t go bankrupt in a matter of three days,”

I groaned and slouched in my old leather desk chair. “But what if they do...?” I whined. “You’re being irrational.” Hyejin sarcastically whined back, mimicking my slouched shoulders and pouty lip. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Kim to give you a couple days off?” She suggested. I laughed, “Mr. Kim? Overly handsome Mr. Kim that I can barely speak a word too without blubbering? Me? Talk to him?”

I chuckled some more and Hyejin gave me an unimpressed face. “It’s not that hard! What’s so bad about it?” She scrutinized. “What so hard? His handsome face! The way he says my name! His eyes! They make me loose all brain function like I’m not a college graduate,” I pointed out, because it was obvious.

Kim Seokjin. Manager of Bangtan Village’s bank. 28 years old, tall, the embodiment of professionalism. He looked as if god sculpted him. A modern rendition of Galatea. He had a demeanor that called for authority without question. When he walked by, you had to pay attention.

Some may say that this only affected me so badly because of my tiny crush on him. But I beg to differ. How could you look at that beautiful face and not stutter? How could you hear that voice and not swoon? How could your heart not skip a beat whenever he smiled or laughed? Even if he always played the boss role, I couldn’t help but fall.

“You’re overreacting, it’s just-” Hyejin was cut off by a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, sitting back up in my seat and dusting off my blouse. The door opened and the one and only Kim Seokjin walked in. Speak of the devil. “Good afternoon ladies,” He said with an unwavering smile. We replied with a ‘good afternoon’ back.

“What brings you here?” I asked, fiddling with my hands.

“I just wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Seokjin explained.

He walked further into the room, rounding my desk to stand beside my sitting form. He placed a folder in front of me, three sheets of paper spilling from the manilla cardstock. Seokjin leaned down next to me, one hand on my desk, one hand on the back of my chair. I could faintly smell his earthy cologne.

I cleared my throat, erasing the invasive thoughts of Seokjin from my mind. This was work, business, he needed your help with something. Calming my shaky hands, I grabbed the first sheet of paper, examining the printed black numbers and letters. The closer I looked, I spotted the bank’s name printed on the top and different amounts of money though a certain number of months below it.

“M-Mr. Kim, are these the statements for our bank?” I asked, flipping through the three pages that contained more information on money and spending. “It is,” He answered back, turning his head to look at me. I looked at him in return, suppressing the gasp in my throat when I realized just how close he was. His honey eyes roamed my face for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you think?”

Confused, I looked back at the papers briefly. “Are you asking me to make a business plan for the bank...?” I questioned, looking back at my boss. He shrugged nonchalantly, “No, do you think we need one?” Answering my question with more questions. “N-No, the bank’s doing well.” I said, “We’re not drastically losing money or anything, not losing money at all actually...” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough that the man beside me heard.

Seokjin let out a nonchalant hum, sitting back up in his pitch perfect posture. “If you say so. I trust your opinion.” He said, gathering the papers from my desk and making his way to the door. “Wait! Mr. Kim!” Hyejin spoke up. Seokjin stopped, turning his attention on Hyejin, who had a knowing smile on her face. “Ms. L/n actually has a request for you,” She said in a sweet voice, gesturing her hand towards me.

Seokjin’s attention spun towards me and I stopped like a deer in headlights. “Yes, Ms. L/n?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. That shouldn’t be attractive... But it was. “I- uh... I’m...” I stuttered, not being able to tear my eyes away from the alluring man in front of me. “Ms. L/n wants to know if she can have a couple days off,” Hyejin spoke for me.

“I do?” “She does?” Seokjin and I asked at the same time. “Yep!” Hyejin said, giving me a “If you say otherwise I’ll put itching powder in your skirts” look. So for the sake of my comfort, I shut up and went along with it. A couple days couldn’t hurt, right? If there's a financial emergency, then I’ll get a call or something.

Seokjin cleared his throat and turned back to me with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay Ms. L/n? You’re not sick or anything?” He asked. “N-No just... I just need a break, ya know?” I nervously chuckled, fiddling with the end of my blouse to keep my racing thought to a minimum. “Ah, okay. You’re welcome to have a few days off, you deserve time off,” Seokjin smiled.

After we exchanged our goodbyes and Seokjin left, I whipped around towards Hyejin and glared at her harder than a teenage boy glaring at his mom after she took away his vape. “What was that?” I hissed, crossing both of my arms. Hyejin, unphased by my threatening demeanor, chuckled and sighed. “That, my friend, was you getting a well-deserved break”

I never realized how bland my apartment was until now. I mean, yes, it looks kinda lived in and yes, there are kink-knacks lounging about. It just looks, barely used. Which wouldn’t be an understatement considering falling asleep on my desk at work is a common occurance.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I’m always cooped up in my office, whether it be my home one or the one at work. My home office looks like I’ve used it well, if all the coffee stains are anything to go off of. But the rest of my apartment looks like a set from a sitcom, purposefully messy, not “I’ve been here for 10 years” messy.

It was slightly unsettling how much I got used to something I dreaded. How I threw myself into a routine- an unhealthy one at that- and got used to it. I always told myself that no matter what, I’d still paint. I’d still go to art galleries and watch those calming art restoration videos on YouTube, living vicariously through the screen.

But I didn’t.

I suppressed the hurt I felt for not being able to follow my dream by forcing myself to like what cards my parents dealt to me, what cards I played. That fact scared me. It scared me cause even if this was my apartment, even if I had trinkets that reminded me of my favorite shows and books, even if I was away from the pressures of my overbearing parents. I wasn’t living in a home. This was my apartment, but it wasn’t my apartment.

Not a single thing around reminded me of my passion. Not a painting, not a paint tube, not a paintbrush. Not even an art catalog. I love art catalogs. Maybe I really needed this break, maybe I needed it to show myself that I wasn’t thrilled with the life I had now.

However, there was nothing I could do, could I?

It was too late. The diplomas on my wall told me that. It was too late to turn back. I’m 27. I already laid my life out for myself. I would be a financial advisor until I retired or died. That fact didn’t leave a pleasant feeling in my heart. But what could I really do about it?

The sound of the doorbell ringing jostled me awake from my nap. I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I was in my living room, on the couch. Grey blanket draped over my form while the T.V played some trash show. Groaning, I got up from my makeshift bed, stretching out my stiff muscles as I made my way to the front door.

Opening the door, I saw Jimin, the town's delivery boy, standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hands. “Hello Jimin,” I said, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Y/n! Long time no see,” He chuckled, “I have a delivery for you,” He said, extending the vase of flowers in his hands towards me. “Oh, thank you Jimin, but I didn’t order any flowers,” I said.

“Not you, someone ordered flowers for you!” He said, turning the vase around to show me a little card that was hanging off of it. “You have a secret admirer,” He chuckled. Confused, I took the vase from him, smelling the saccharine aroma of the peonies and daisies that laid perfectly together. “Oh, wow, thank you again Jimin. Have a good day!” I said, Jimin gave me his award-winning smile as he bid me farewell.

I stepped back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I walked to my kitchen and placed the heavy vase down on the counter, grabbing the attached card. “Min’s Flowers” was printed on the front in a style resembling calligraphy. Opening the card, I saw a neat handwritten note.

‘Dear Y/n, I hope you are feeling better after getting some rest. You should know that you can always ask for a break when you need one, you’re an amazing advisor, but I know that staring at paper work can get a bit boring. I hope you like the flowers, I remember you mentioning that your favorite art piece had beautifully painted peonies. Get some rest, okay?

P.S. Why was the office of cantaloupes so glum? Because they were melon-colleagues!”

“Melon-colleagues... Oh!” I chuckled to myself, only understanding the play on words once I said it aloud. “This was sweet of you, Mr. Kim,” I said to myself, smelling the peonies once again. It was stupid how easily the man made me swoon, a simple smile here, a compliment there. Anything he did made my heart skip a beat, and this was no different.

I carried the vase to my bedroom, placing it on my bedside table next to my alarm clock. Deciding that I should thank him, I grabbed my phone and opened it to my messenger. Was it unprofessional to text your boss? I mean, I am thanking him for a gift so I suppose it’s fine. I texted out a simple ‘thank you’ message and sending it.

‘I got the flowers Mr. Kim, thank you. They’re beautiful :)’

But what I didn’t expect was an immediate answer back.

‘You’re welcome and please call me Jin :)’

‘Alright, Jin’

“I’m telling you Y/n, I think Mr. Kim has a thing for you!” Hyejin squealed over the phone to me. “No, he doesn’t, he’s just a nice man,” I said, placing the new vase of flowers that were just delivered to me on my coffee table. “He sends you flowers every day! That’s not nothing!” She argued. I rolled my eyes, picking up the new card and flipping it open to read.

‘Dear Y/n, I got you mini sunflowers this time, they remind me of you. Also, why was the broom late for work? It overswept!’

I chuckled, turning my attention back to Hyejin. “I’m sure he’ll stop soon,” I counter argued. “Besides, what would Mr. God’s bragging right want from me?” “God, you are so dense it hurts. Did you know he asks about you? Checks your office to see if you came in today? Every single day.” Hyejin revealed. I stopped fiddling with the flowers for just a moment. “He does?”

I heard Hyejin groan and sigh, “Yes! Mr. Kim totally has a thing for you!” She stressed, “Jin’s just-” “See! He even lets you call him by a nickname!” Hyejin cut me off. “Hyejin, you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” I giggled, “Friends are nice to each other. No matter how badly I want Mr. Hottie to smack me in the face with his lips, it’s just unrealistic.”

“Okay, how about I prove to you he’s crushing on you? Get you undeniable evidence?” She bargained, and I could only imagine the mischievous face she was most likely sporting. “What are you going to do? Follow him around with a camera?” I chuckled sarcastically. “No! But what if you tell him about something you like? But really discreetly. You mentioned he remembered your favorite painting, say something in passing that nobody would care about unless they wanna impress you!” Hyejin answered.

“That’s a horrible idea.” I deadpanned, “But if it’ll get you to leave me alone about this, I’ll do it.” I heard Hyejin cheer, sounding way too excited about what will end up being nothing. “You’ll see!” Hyejin teased. I was about to refute her statement when my phone chimed. I took it away from my ear to see a message from Jin. “Speak of the devil, he just texted me,” I said aloud. “Well, don’t leave him hanging, go on! I’ll talk to you later!” Hyejin said as she hung up.

Shaking my head at her antics, I opened my messages.

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ The text said,

‘I’m feeling better, thank you. How are you doing?’ I asked.

That was the start of a very long conversation. One where we talked about mostly anything. Jin mentioned that he was bored in his office doing nothing and decided to check up on me, to which I joked about telling the boss about his slacking.

The conversation flowed without hesitation. There was no long pause between messages, no awkward one-worded responses. Just the two of us talking freely. I completed Hyejin’s challenge when Jin was telling me about all the pretty colored flowers that Yoongi had in his shop. I agreed with him, saying that it would be nice to paint it, preserving the colors in art form.

But what I hadn’t expected was for Jin to drop a bomb on me.

We were talking about Jin’s printer that seems haunted because it beeps at the weirdest times. He was making a joke about talking to it and having it as a friend, and to bring that joke to a close he took a selfie with the printer. Admittedly, he looked very handsome posing next to a hunk of metal, but it wasn’t his face that caught me off guard, it was his collarbone.

Normally, looking at someone's collarbone on purpose just seems... Pervy... But when there’s an irritated bruise on it, it draws one's attention. Right there, peaking out from under his slightly unbuttoned white button up, was a bruise on his collarbone. Now, I’m not naïve. Why else would you have a bruise there unless someone left it on you in a steamy way?

Maybe I was denying the possibility of Jin having a crush on me to Hyejin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for her words to be true. Deep down I wanted her to be right. I wanted my feelings for the stunning man I was texting and talking to for the past couple days to be reciprocated. How dumb was I?

Of course he had a lover. Just look at him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s kind, funny, hard-working. We were in our late 20s, this was the time where most of the people our age were settling down, having kids, getting ready for the future. There’s probably going to be a ring on his perfectly imperfect finger soon.

That fact shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does...

‘Dear Y/n, You mentioned you’d like to paint the flowers in Yoongi’s shop, so I got really colorful flowers for you. Maybe now you can paint them? I’d love to see if you did. I’m sure your just as good as an artist as you are an advisor. Hyejin mentioned you plan on coming back to work tomorrow, I’m happy you’re feeling better. :)

P.S What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint!’

I felt as if my body was betraying my thoughts as a slight smile graced my lips at Jin's terrible dad joke. My heart still beating for him even if my brain was against it, flashing the image of a passionately bruised Jin into my mind every time my heart rate picks up at his words.

What betrayed me more was my body moving on autopilot towards my storage closet, wrestling my way to the back, pulling out tubes of old paint, sets of old paintbrushes, and an old easel. What betrayed me more was my body going to an empty corner in my room, setting up a workspace for my suppressed passion to flow, setting the colorful flora delicately on a spare table. What betrayed me more was the way I didn’t hesitate to squeeze colors out of their tubes, meticulously pick paintbrushes, lift my hand up to start the first stroke. Then the second, then the third.

Soon I got lost in the motion of forgetting everything. Enclosing myself in my own world, nothing but me and the canvas. Focusing on the details of flowers that nobody cared to look at. Stem, sepal, stigma. All pieces of a puzzle that made up a delicate lily. Those lilies making up the picture of the vase, that bouquet having much more meaning than anybody could interpret.

A bouquet that represented longing, hurt, disappointment. All conveyed with every stroke of the brush, every color mixed, every dot placed. Anyone looking in on my life from a fogged window wouldn’t understand why tears fell from my eyes as I continued painting. People would tilt their heads in confusion at the way I stared, longingly, at the seemingly simple flowers. People would whisper words of confusion as I unconsciously desaturated my colors to match the feeling that plagued me.

A once bright image turned into a foggy photo of melancholy.

I painted those flowers and cried, dreaming about the man I couldn’t have, the man I longed to hold, to kiss, to cherish. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting. A simple bruise. A simple reddish bruise is all it took to break my spirit? Silly when you think about it hard enough, but feelings and rationality are a funny concoction. Never quiet going together in how they should, many opting to unconsciously separate the two. Many like me.

I should’ve suppressed the wayward feelings when I recognized them years ago. Lock them in a box and throw them away, never to be seen again. Have my heart swallow the key, then forget about its existence. But I didn’t. The nights spent thinking about him; the days spent watching him from afar; they passed like a flash of lighting. My feelings growing quicker than I expected, right under my nose.

When I finished, I didn’t move. I just looked at the painting that was a product of my suppressed sorrow. Realizing that not only did Jin steal my heart, he reawakened my passion for painting as well.

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” Hyejin asked, taking a sip from her mug that aptly said “Cupid’s Sleuth” that I got her for her birthday one year after she set up two of our mutual friends together. “I guess,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on my own cup of liquid energy.

Hyejin put her hand on my shoulder to gain back my attention, but after a restless night my reaction speed wasn’t the best, so I didn’t notice it. “Y/n,” She called, and I looked up from my mug. “You’re even worse than you were before you took a mini-vacation, what happened?”

I sighed, placing my mug down on the gray counter of the employee break room. “You were right. He remembered.” I said in a gravelly voice. “That’s great! Right?” She cautioned. I said nothing, opting to fish my phone out of my pocket and opening my messages with Seokjin, turning the phone to her to show her the picture.

“I don’t- Oh...” She coughed. “That um...” She stammered. “Yep, looks like a hickey.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket. “But that doesn’t make sense, he’s obviously likes you!” She argued, “Well, obviously he doesn’t!” I snapped, startling Hyejin. “Sorry, but the proof is right there, Hyejin, he already has a lover,” I sighed.

Hyejin didn’t say anything. Her face showed she was thinking about something, and she was thinking hard. “There has to be an explanation,” She mumbled. “There’s something we don’t know. If he had a lover, why has he never talked about them? Mentioned them in passing? Or even have a picture of them on his desk?” She pointed out. “Maybe they’re a private couple,” I reasoned.

Hyejin shook her head, mumbling out, “No... that’s not it,” Her eyebrows creased as we stood there in silence. “He’d at least have a picture... Why don’t you just talk to him?” She suggested. I choked on the coffee I was sipping, hacking up the liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Talk to him? And what? Admit that I’ve fallen in love with him so he can laugh about me to his significant other when he gets home? Not happening.” I said.

Hyejin rolled her eyes, “Come on, talking is the only way to sort this out. You’re an adult Y/n!” She gestured to my matured, adult body as if I didn’t already know this fact. “Sometimes, things are best left to the unknown, for the sake of my heart.” I finished the rest of my coffee and left the cup in the sink. “I appreciate your effort, but this time you can’t be cupid's sleuth.” I lamented, leaving the break room to go back to my office.

I avoided Jin like the plague for the next few weeks. Running away from him in the halls before he saw me, leaving for lunch before him, not leaving my office unless absolutely necessary. Others were starting to notice my sudden aversion for my boss, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him.

Every glance at his face, rumble of his voice, whiff of his earthy cologne whenever I rushed by him in the halls, it was torture. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat at everything he did. How my breath picked up and palms turned sweaty. I hated the way he still held my heart captive in his hands, even if he didn’t know it.

So, if it hurt to be around him, I’ll avoid him. No matter how long it takes for my feelings to dissipate, I’m willing to dance this dance around him. They have to go away eventually, right? I wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic forever...

I drowned my thoughts in paint. Left my sorrows in swirling blues and purples. Expressed my frustrations in striking reds and yellows. Wrote my whimsical wishes in hues of greens and pinks. I got lost in the empty canvas set up in front of me, giving color to the void of white.

I never knew how to start or where to finish, but I just let myself flow. Orange here, maroon there, wherever it felt right is where it went. Soon pictures of flowers and sunsets would emerge from the cacophony of colors that I splattered on the canvas. The worlds that I painted ones of idealization. Worlds where there was no hurt, no pain, no disappointment.

That’s where I was now, currently getting lost in saturations of green. Sitting in front of a canvas, I painted a world of my own. This one was turning into an open field at dawn. Maybe if I give it to a psychiatrist, they’ll understand the unconscious emotions I laid bare in the paint. Point out why such a picture gave off feelings of longing, melancholy. But for now this was my solitude, my abditory.

A knock on my front door threw me out of that daydream, however. Confused, I turned to look outside at the weeping sky. It was pouring. Who in their right mind was at my door? I quickly got up and hurried over to my door, not caring that I was in my paint stained apron or that I had paint on my face. But maybe I should’ve when I opened the door and was greeted by a soaking wet Seokjin.

Gasping, I took in his sopping form. He was dripping from head to toe, still dressed in his work attire. “Jin? What are you doing out in the rain? Come on, come in,” I said, ushering him inside. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than his comfort and the fact he was most likely freezing.

I quickly hurried to my hallway linen closet, grabbing one of my fluffy towels and rushing back to give it to Jin. “Let’s get you warm,” I led him to the couch, sitting him down. After Jin dried off a bit, I prepared some tea and handed him a cup. “Thank you,” He said, giving me that same adorable smile. “What were you doing out in the rain?” I asked, keeping my mind off of his charm.

“I wanted to come see you...” He admitted, nervously looking down at his cup. “M-Me? You see me at work, Jin,” I pointed out, taking a sip of tea from my own cup. “No... I don’t, you’ve been avoiding me Y/n,” He whinged, emphasizing the “avoiding” part. “I haven’t been avoiding you...” I fibbed, looking anywhere but at him.

“Yes, you have! It’s like I’ve got the plague-Which I don’t- Did I do something wrong?” He fretted, a look of hurt on his handsome face. I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say no, tell him it was all me and my stupid feelings for him, but admitting that to him was terrifying. After I didn’t answer for a minute, Jin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair.

“I don’t- I really don’t understand...” He whimpered, sounding like a kicked puppy. It tug at my heart string more. “I’m sorry...” I mumbled, guilt bubbling up in my throat and stinging at my eyes.

“I don’t want a sorry! I want an explanation! What did I do?” Jin glowered.

“It wasn’t you! Alright? It was never you... It was me! I can’t be around you!” I yelled.

“Why not?”

“Because I love you, asshole! And it hurts to know that you already have someone who loves you the way I wish I could.” I wept, tears of frustration spilling out of my eyes. I furiously wiped away the stray evidence of my inner turmoil, turning away from the man in front of me. “Alright...? Is that what you wanted to hear...?” I sniffled.

Jin stayed silent. Not making a sound. The only noise that could be heard was the beating of rain against the windows and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. “I’ll call you a cab...” I choked out, stepping towards my bedroom where I left my phone laying on my bed.

As I went to go grab it, Jin stopped me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back. I whipped around, bumping into Jin’s wet chest, his large hand still wrapped around my dainty wrist. “Jin, what are you-” “Where’d you get that idea?” Jin asked, cutting me off.

“What?” I whispered. “Where’d you get the idea that I have a lover?” He asked, staring directly into my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could faintly feel the breaths he took. I could see the little imperfections on his face, a freckle here, a scar there. He never failed to take my breath away.

I peeled my eyes away from his amber ones, focusing on the- now faint- bruise that rested on his collarbone that was semi visible through his damp shirt. I reached up and lightly touched it, my hand shaking a bit. “I’m not seven, I know what a bruise on the collarbone means,” I whispered.

“Y/n, that’s not a hickey,”

“Then what is it, Jin?”

“It’s the result of Jeongguk’s carelessness. He was swinging around his baton, hit me square in the collarbone. Hurt like a bitch,” He grimaced. Jin guided my hand away from the bruise, lifting it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss. “The only bruise on my collarbone that I want is one that you give me,” He whispered, bringing my hand to cup his cheek.

I rose my other hand to rest on chest. I could hear my heart in my ears, beating in a rhythm rivaling the gallop of a horse. “Jin... What are you saying?” I asked. “When you started avoiding me, ignoring my texts and dancing around me at work. It hurt. I realized that without you, I felt like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself that even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I’d get used to it. But earlier today, when all I could see at every street corner was a happy couple... I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Jin wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing one of his soft, slightly calloused hand to gently cup my cheek. Even if he was cold, the touch was so undeniably warm. “I really like you Y/n. More than I probably should.” He admitted, “So please, let me kiss you.”

Jin lent down, capturing my lips in his soft, plush ones as my knees threatened to buckle. His lips lingered in place, basking in the warmth mine offered. We moved together in an unspoken rhythm, a waltz we created in our own heads as our lips danced together.

Jin kissed me like the second he pulled away, the world we had created together behind our closed eyes would melt away, and he would be back shivering in the rain. “I love you too,” He whispered against my lips, kissing me with more fervor after every second. He held me tighter, his wide hands enveloping my waist in a comforting hold.

It felt so hot. Whether that was the heat from Jin or the flush from myself, I wouldn’t know. Our bodies melded in a way where you couldn’t tell who was who. Arms wrapped around one another, legs brushing together, lips clashing in a fight to get impossibly closer.

After we calmed down and our lungs started to burn, we pulled away. We still held each other close, not willing to part just yet. “I never want to part from you again,” I admitted, resting my head on Jin’s broad chest. “Me neither,” Jin whispered back to me, pressing a kiss on the top of my head.

We stood there in silence, holding each other in an embrace that said so much. So many unspoken words of “I’ve wanted this for so long” and “I never want to let go,” communicated through delicate touches and lingering kisses.

The man who stole my heart and refused to let it go. The man who reawakened my lost passion for art. The man who taught me that maybe talking is better than letting things wallow in an abyss of self pity, was mine. He was in my arms, kissing my lips, hugging my body.

And I couldn’t be happier.

“Let me see,” Jin said, looking over my should at the painting I’ve been working on for the past 2 hours. “Wow, you never cease to amaze me,” He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was painting the recent bouquet of flowers Jin got me this morning, this one filled with different color peonies. “You’re so sweet,” I chuckled, giving him a kiss back.

Jin gave me a smile, his eyes full of admiration and love. “I love you, flower,” He whispered to me. “I love you too,” I whispered back, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “Are you going into work tomorrow?” Jin asked. “No, none of my clients need me so I’ll just stay home and paint,” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the canvas.

Jin watched me paint for a little longer, stealing kisses here and there. It was relaxing to have him so close. “From workaholic to laid back painter,” Jin chuckled, his squeaky laugh pulling a giggle from my throat. “Well, I had someone to show me that it’s okay to have passions,” I said, giving Jin a loving look. “I’m glad,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my waiting lips.

#bts #bts fic #seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin #jin x reader

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yandearest · 4 years

Text

May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 3: The Assessment

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 7K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Previous Chapter: 1, 2

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

Throughout the course of your life you had found that the more you dreaded something, the faster it arrived. As you sat in the waiting room, waiting for the call to go into the training center alone for your final assessment, you couldn’t help but think of just how fast the training process had gone by, and that in less than twenty-four hours you would be inside the dreaded arena.

During your knot tying session after your incident the on the first day, you had formed a slight friendship with Krystal, who had asked if everything was okay. You had lied, saying you were fine, too afraid of telling her the truth after Namjoon had just blown up on you, and she simply had nodded in acceptance. But you could tell she didn’t buy that answer from the way she seemed to treat you with a little extra kindness. You stuck to her like glue for the rest of the training period, refusing to separate within the career pack without Krystal by your side. It was an odd dependency given she was the smallest of the lot of you, but she had taken to it rather well. She never asked you about it, but immediately went along, making sure you were always by her side during any activity. You could tell Hoseok was furious – constantly shooting glares in Krystal’s direction – but there was nothing he could do without disrupting the whole alliance, and proving that he was indeed the psychopath he had revealed only to you in private.

You had spoken briefly to Finnick about things the night after the incident with Hoseok. As a mentor he wasn’t happy, but his hands were also tied as there was nothing he could do to interfere with another district. He had suggested he could speak to District 2’s mentor to try and get more information on Hoseok’s background but you had immediately shut that down, terrified that it would somehow get back to Hoseok and he would think you were reciprocating his own interest. The idea was also dangerous because it would expose just how threatened you were to their mentor, who could easily use that to their advantage when coming up with game tactics. Finnick had reluctantly agreed not to do anything, but turned the topic of conversation onto your remaining training time. He had suggested a focus on weapons, particularly knives given you already had some experience with them.

“Focus on what you already know,” he had said “Don’t waste time trying to learn new things that others are already experts with. You cannot hope to beat a master with only a few days of training. Hone the skills you already have.”

So that’s largely what you had spent the rest of your training time doing. By her own admission Krystal’s report card had suggested training with a weapon that could compliment her own agility, which worked out well with knives too, so you spent a lot of your time training together. You found out that despite being a District 1 tribute, she was also reaped, and not a volunteer, like yourself. But unlike you she had been trained at an academy, which was standard practice in 1. A far more interesting detail you had learned was she was Yoongi’s younger sister, and he had volunteered after her reaping. You filed that detail away in the back of your mind for future reference, grateful that some sort of partnership already existing in the alliance could potentially lessen the target on yourself later when it came to splitting.

You played off each other, regarding your knowledge of knives. Krystal was far more skilled in close range combat, and she gave you pointers when you trained in sparring using a prop version (made from a material of the same weight, which still caused some bruises, but wouldn’t actually cause stab wounds). She also helped you improve your skills in countering attacks and using a larger opponents’ body weight against them. Looking at Hoseok and Namjoon respectively you were terrified to know her lesson would very much be a life or death skill you needed to learn. In return you talked to her about your experiences with spear fishing and occasionally using a knife instead in shallow waters, passing on what you could about how to throw a knife. It was a skill you had picked up when you much younger, after being taught by your father when you were seven. Your mother had been furious when she found out and immediately banned you from knives until you were old enough to be working on the boat, but your father had still snuck in training sessions whenever the two of you were alone. It was never something you thought you would be using to potentially kill a human, rather than a salmon or tuna. You hadn’t even thought of it then, but it was likely his way of trying to prepare you for if your name was ever drawn from the reaping. Even though it was essentially impossible, a part of you desperately hoped you would survive in order to be able to thank your father in person.

You and Krystal worked well together, you had a natural chemistry, and both of you didn’t feel a need for wasting oxygen with meaningless small talk or chit chat. Your skills both complimented one another and you found yourself learning a lot. It wasn’t much of a bond from merely a couple of days, but you hoped whatever you had worked to build would translate into some sort of partnership in the arena.

The remaining of your training had passed as well as you could have hoped for right up until the final moments of the last day. You and Krystal had taken a bathroom break. Afterwards, when you were about to walk out of the washroom and back into the hallway outside, you could hear familiar voices beyond the door. Frowning, you opened the door just a crack to hear Namjoon talking to Yoongi, Hoseok and Athena.

“Seriously, she thinks you’re in love with her,” Namjoon laughed, clasping his hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. You felt the blood immediately drain from your face and a stone cold chill run throughout your body. You had seen Namjoon and Hoseok getting on better within the last day, but you weren’t expecting Namjoon to be at a level of already throwing you under the bus.

“Really? When did she say that?” you could hear Hoseok ask, although you couldn’t see him from the crack in the doorway.

“First day, back when she was in tears over that pathetic report,” Namjoon replied with a scoff. “Asked her what happened and she went on some crazed rant that you were going to save her. Honestly lost her mind on day one, why the hell we’re supposed to drag her around the arena is beyond me.”

“She’s not that bad, have you seen her throwing the knives with Krystal? Could be useful,” the only female voice had to have been Athena, and you made a mental note to thank her later.

“Please, she’s a baby. Wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly,” Namjoon scoffed. You wanted to storm out and show him how willing you would be to hurt him, but remembering a warning from Finnick held you back, ‘play along and act dumb so they think you trust them and are too stupid to make plans for yourself'. You couldn’t wait for the chance to stab Namjoon in the back at this rate.

“So why are we keeping her around then?” A bored voice you had rarely heard asked. That had to have been Yoongi.

“Her brains may be non-existent, but the empty head that carries her around isn’t too bad to look at. I say we keep her for the sponsors, get us some supplies from her capital fans. Maybe if we can get her to flash those perfect tits she’s covering up we can get extra out of them. Plus, if the arena gets cold I’m sure she can also make herself useful as a bed warmer too.” Your jaw dropped open at the vulgar way your supposed teammate was talking about you. You hadn’t even spoken to Namjoon since the incident on the first day, ignoring him whenever you were in the same living quarters and spending your training time with Krystal. Like hell you would be going anywhere near his ‘bed’ in the arena. Krystal looked equally as disgusted.

“Gross,” Athena deadpanned.

“What? It’s not like what I’m saying isn’t true, and it’s better her than you, right? Beautiful face, hot body, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Throwing knives from a distance isn’t much of a threat in close combat so we can easily take her out at the end. Hey, Hoseok seeing she acts like you’re going to be her precious Romeo you can be the one to take care of our dear Juliet when the time co-” before you could snap and storm out to attack Namjoon yourself, Hoseok beat you to it. Like a viper, his hand shot out in lightning speed to grasp Namjoon by the throat and slam him into the nearest wall.

“Or how about I take care of you?” he practically purred, springing a jackknife he had somehow slipped into his clothing out and holding it against Namjoon’s throat, until you heard a scuffle of someone trying to pull him off. Yanking the bathroom door open you rushed out into the hallway, Krystal following quickly behind, to see Namjoon leaning against the wall rubbing his throat, as Athena and Yoongi restrained a livid Hoseok.

“What the hell is going on?” Krystal asked, looking between everyone. Even if you had overheard everything, you just stood there next to her, wanting to play up the ignorance they dismissed you as having.

Nobody answered, looking between each other as if waiting for them to be the first to talk. Of all people, it was surprisingly Yoongi to be the one to break the silence.

“Put that thing away,” Yoongi snapped, nodding at Hoseok’s flat knife. “Do you want us to all get beaten to a pulp by the guards before we even get to the arena?” Hoseok complied without any words, smoothly placing the knife back into a hidden pocket in the front of his pants.

“What the hell do we do now?” you asked, staring at the others. “A day before the games and a fight breaks out? How are we meant to work together in there?”

“Nothing changes,” Hoseok spoke. You frowned back, like hell nothing had changed.

“You just pulled a knife on my district partner,” you replied. You weren’t complaining but he didn’t need to know that.

“Nothing changes,” Namjoon repeated to your surprise.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. We’re men. Men fight. Shit happens but we get it out of our system. Logically we’re still each others best bet in the arena.” Namjoon continued. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling his eyes at the ‘men’ declaration.

“He’s right,” Hoseok agreed and all you could do was stare dumbly, wondering how the hell the two of them had gone from pulling a knife a second ago, to now suddenly agreeing.

“Like hell I’m leaving you, Athena isn’t leaving me, your district mate isn’t interested in leaving you either, and I assume Krystal has interests in working with you from all that training you’ve done together. Yoongi’s not going to leave his sister, so we’re all stuck together.”

“What if I don’t want to work with any of you?” you challenged.

Namjoon scoffed.

“If you really had the balls to walk away, you would’ve done it on day one. Especially given how I treated you when you were telling the truth.” You glared back at him for blatantly exposing you.

“If you split, you’re the easiest target for all the other tributes.” Hoseok stepped away from Yoongi and Athena to walk towards you. “That’s 18 other people trying to kill you, so you know I’m not going to let that happen. As I just told you, I’m not leaving you.”

You hadn’t heard much from Hoseok since that moment in the hallway on day one. A part of you had managed to convince yourself it was all a stunt, just like Namjoon had said, to psych you out and cause division in your alliance. Hearing him bluntly announce his intentions to the whole alliance, as he came to stand directly before you, caused the delusion to shatter.

“Leave her alone.” You were becoming so entranced by Hoseok’s presence that it took you a moment to process Krystal’s voice as she moved herself closer to you, standing so her shoulder was slightly in front of yours. Your heart momentarily warmed at the gesture before it was doused in the cold ice of your conscious as you remembered his sickening threats from the last time you and Hoseok were alone ‘I don’t care about the others… I’ll slaughter every one of them in cold blood… I’m going to kill them all for you baby and I’ll make you watch so you can see just how far I’ll go for you’

“No Krystal, don’t!” you cried in a panic as you reached out for Krystal and pulled her into a protective hug, putting your body in front of hers before Hoseok. “You don’t understand,” you whispered in a rush to try and explain. “He’s crazy, he said he was going to kill all of you. I tried to tell Namjoon and he didn’t believe me so I was too scared to tell anyone else, because I was scared you’d think I was crazy.”

You were trying not to cry, you couldn’t panic, you couldn’t be weak again like the state they had found you in last time, but it was so fucking hard. Why did you have to be reaped? Why did one of the tributes have to form an obsession with you? Why was your own district mate an asshole who had invalidated you when trying to protect the alliance? All you had wanted was to not be alone in the arena, and now you had a hope of someone you could trust and she was in danger because of you.

“It’s ok, I’m ok,” Krystal whispered back, patting your lower back reassuringly. But a sudden grasp on your waist from behind pulled you away, causing you to lose your hold on Krystal as you slammed backwards into a hard chest with a cry.

“Yoongi take care of your sister unless you want me taking care of her in the arena,” Hoseok’s voice hissed from behind your ears, making your blood run cold.

“No, don’t hurt her, please, please don’t hurt her,” you begged, twisting in Hoseok’s hold but his arms were locked around you tightly. Yoongi didn’t say a word, walking over to Krystal and putting his hand on her shoulder to lead her away. She initially moved to shake him off but you vigorously shook your head and mouthed ‘go’ to get her to leave.

“We’ll see you at the cornucopia tomorrow,” Yoongi turned back to say, before you exhaled in temporary relief as Krystal reluctantly left with her brother.

“Whatever you do with her, I don’t want any part of it. We’re aligned until six and then that’s it,” Athena sneered, drawing your attention over to her as she glared between Namjoon and Hoseok.

“Fine with me,” Hoseok shrugged. Namjoon who was now leaning casually against the wall merely nodded. You could swear you saw a torn look of sympathy from Athena in your direction, but it was gone in a second as she shook her head in disgust and walked off to re-join Krystal and Yoongi.

With Athena gone the tension that hung in the air was so thick it was suffocating. Namjoon continued to rest against the wall, his arms crossed over his wide chest watching as Hoseok still held you by the waist. With Krystal now safe with her brother away from him you realized there was no longer a need to stay compliant in his grip.

“Namjoon, help,” you hissed, trying to move your arms to shove Hoseok off but they were both pinned to your sides by his hold. Hoseok merely chuckled, instead flexing his muscles and causing his grip to tighten.

“No can do little dove,” Namjoon mocked with a pout, moving off from the wall to stand to his full height. “Your boyfriend here’s the one with the knife in his pocket, and I’m unarmed.”

Namjoon raised his hands in mock surrender, his long legs taking lazy steps to walk around the two of you. Hoseok turned, forcing you to turn with him, to avoid his back being left open. Namjoon ignored him, keeping his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, because in that arena I’ll be armed, and I’ll take really good care of you then.”

“Like hell,” Hoseok scoffed causing Namjoon to laugh.

“Oh, would you look at the time?” Namjoon was now further down the corridor that separated the bathrooms from the training center, where he could see the large clock on the wall.

“Only five minutes left until end of training before they start preparing for our grading. I’ll leave you two alone for now, but don’t expect this generosity again from me in the arena, 2. I trust you won’t harm our little dove until then…”

And with that lingering comment, Namjoon was gone, abandoning you when you needed him.

You felt Hoseok’s arms beginning to loosen, briefly you thought he was going to release you. But instead you found yourself being turned around to face him and backed against the wall. Any thoughts of pushing him off vanished upon feeling the hard metal of the folded pocket knife pushing against your hip as he caged you in.

“What are you doi-” your question was cut off by Hoseok raising his hand to the side of your face and pushing his thumb over your mouth in warning.

For a moment Hoseok was still. He relished the feeling of your plump lips falling silent beneath his thumb, so pliant, like a kiss against his finger. He watched the rise and fall of your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing, inhaling deep breaths in through your nose causing your lungs to expand and your full breasts to push against his chest. Every little detail about you was so soft, so warm and inviting, like you had been designed purely for him. He was absolutely enamored by you and could spend the rest of his life in this exact moment, feeling you against him, but time was not on his side.

“Look at how they all just left you,” he maliciously purred, his eyes narrowing into a focused glare, “you know they’re going to do the same thing in the arena, darling.”

“That’s not true,” you hissed back, “Krystal tried to stay.”

“And yet all it took for her to leave was a simple pocket knife and her brother. And really, when it comes down to it, who do you think she will choose, Her brother or you?”

You tried to swallow the growing lump in your throat and stayed quiet… he’s just trying to psych you out.

“Meet us in the cornucopia tomorrow, you’ll be much safer with us six than left to fend off eighteen others on your own. You’re smart, you have to know they will chase down any career left alone.”

You frowned but nodded, you had already agreed on this, so you didn’t know why he was bringing it up again.

“Good girl, then you know you have to stay with me once we’re all together. Yoongi sees you as a threat to his sister. Your friendship makes her judgment weak so he will take you out if you’re alone with him. And like I just said, do you really want to side with Krystal when she would choose her brother over you at the end anyway? Athena is threatened by you; thinks you’re distracting me from protecting her in the game as part of our district alliance. I don’t blame her for that though, she is right. I would choose you over her. You know I’d choose you over any of them. And then of course there’s your own district partner, who I’m sure you just heard before… would you trust a man who wants to use your body to sell you to fans from the capital for supplies? The one who didn’t believe you when you tried to warn him about me? The one who just walked away and left you to me now?”

An aching wave of hopelessness washed over your body as you slumped back against the wall. If it wasn’t for Hoseok’s arm holding you upright, you would have just let yourself fall to the ground.

“Please stop,” you whispered, the lump in your throat felt like a golf ball choking you inside.

“I can’t, darling,” Hoseok murmured, his fingers over your lips moving to smooth the faint hairs that had come loose from training back behind your ear.

“Not until you understand that you need me in that arena.” His hand came to rest on the side of your cheek, cradling your face in his palm.

“I’ve trained for this my whole life, I’m the only one you can trust to protect you.”

“But how can I trust you? Like you just said you spent your whole life training for these games, training to kill people like me. It’s all hopeless, no matter who I choose.”

“Don’t say that,” He scolded, shaking you by the hold on your waist.

“You saw me pull that knife on Namjoon before, and I didn’t even know you were there. It’s exactly like I told you on the first day of training, I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm you. No one in that arena matters to me, only you. You’re mine.”

“How can you keep saying that!? We don’t even know each other. I don’t understand how you could possibly feel this way about me. It all just sounds like a cruel way for you to take me to the e-”

Hoseok’s mouth silenced your protests, his lips pushing against yours and hands holding you in place. His kiss was searing and dominant, offering no chance for refusal, though as you felt the shivers running down your spine, you didn’t know if you would have been capable if a chance were provided. You had found him physically attractive the moment you had met, and somehow it was like the passion you had seen in his eyes was magnified a hundredfold through his kiss. He was strong and powerful, yet simultaneously gentle. His arm supporting your waist held your body impossibly close to his, whilst the fingertips from his hand on your face were tenderly stroking the skin on your cheek.

Your eyes had unconsciously closed when his face had moved in to meet yours, which only seemed to heighten your other senses. The places where his body made contact with yours were tingling as if flames from a nearby fire were licking against your skin. Everything about Jung Hoseok was warm; his sun kissed skin, copper hair and the heat radiating from his body into yours. You were stunned, and in your frozen state Hoseok moved his lips against your pliant ones to deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue dancing along the line of your mouth before sliding inside to meet your own tongue and try to coax it to return with his.

What somehow felt like an eternity was in reality a mere few seconds before an announcement echoed through speakers throughout the training center, instructing tributes to cease everything and make your way to a designated area for the mandatory final assessments to shortly begin. Hoseok broke the kiss, leaving you breathless as he whispered upon your lips,

“If you can’t believe my words, then believe that.”

Pressing his lips back to yours quickly once more, he finally pulled back.

“Come on, we have to go.”

You mutely allowed Hoseok to lead you out of the corridor and back into the training center where a Capitol representative with a clipboard was lining everyone up to be taken to the waiting area. There was no talking from anyone as you were all put into your lines and made to follow the representative into a smaller room, whilst the training center was to be rearranged. The waiting room was small and cold with metallic coloring. Black chairs were organized by districts and you were told that one by one you would be brought before the judges to present your chosen skill, where you would then be graded on a score out of twelve. The scores would be announced later in the afternoon, before your final interviews with Caesar Flickerman in the evening.

You wordlessly sat beside Namjoon, not even looking in his direction even though you could occasionally feel him trying to catch your eye. No doubt he would want to dissect your conversation with Hoseok but you had no interest in telling him about anything that had happened. Especially not after how he had treated you the last time you had tried to warn him. Instead you kept your eyes solely on the ground, nervously bouncing your leg as you worried about your upcoming grading.

Everything was happening so fast. It felt like only moments ago when your name had been reaped, since then you had already travelled by train, appeared in the parade and completed your three days of training. You felt sick in your stomach at the thought that the short time that had passed between your reaping and this very moment could possibly be longer than the time you had between now and when you would meet your end in the arena. You immediately tried to stamp that thought out, trying to hold back the overwhelming wave of grief threatening to crash over you. You couldn’t let yourself go down without a fight and giving in to the misery would only reduce you to a walking corpse.

“District 1, female.”

The man with the clipboard had returned to the room to officially begin the assessments. You noted how he didn’t even call for Krystal by her name, just a district number and her assigned gender. How cold and clinical, much like the room they were keeping you in. You wondered if reducing tributes to numbers without names made it possible for the man to sleep at night, knowing he was part of a system that sent innocent children to the slaughter every year.

“District 1, male.”

As Yoongi left with the clipboard man you couldn’t help but notice Krystal didn’t come back into the room with him. So you would be allowed to return to the dorm and prepare for the interviews as soon as you were done. You were grateful this would at least mean a few hours’ break from Hoseok, you would just have to lock yourself in your room quickly before Namjoon would finish after you, and try to interrogate you in your living quarters.

“District 2, female.”

No one had spoken since the line up. All too focused on mentally preparing for the assessment. You felt for the younger tributes who had never picked up a weapon before a week ago, now having to present themselves as fighters before a panel with only 3 days of training. Once again you were grateful for your father for his insistence on training you with a knife, which at least gave you somewhat of a starting point to work with.

“District 2, male.”

You kept your head down and eyes on the floor, watching as two pairs of shoes walked directly past you on their way out of the room.

“No kiss good luck?” Namjoon snickered next to you, deliberately keeping his voice quiet enough that only you could hear him.

You ignored him.

“What’s the matter, trouble in paradise?” he mocked again.

You continued to ignore him, making sure your eyes were pointed on the exact same spot you had been staring at on the ground since you had sat down. Your knee continued to bounce at the exact same pace. You didn’t want to give him a single flinch, not even a minute sign of a reaction, given that was exactly what he was trying to get. You wondered what he was trying to achieve by riling you up. Did he want you to snap back at him and get in trouble? There had been no specific instruction not to talk, the weight of the occasion had instead resulted in the silence, so you doubted it. Most probably, he wanted to get in your head and psych you out before your assessment, likely trying to lower your score. Internally you scoffed, it’s not like you were a major threat to him anyway. You both knew you weren’t a trained career like he was. He was already going to outscore you anyway.

“District 3, female.”

Namjoon had gone from dictating your alliance, to spitting in the face of your concerns, to now mocking you. You wondered if he would’ve treated an actual trained career better if someone had volunteered for the females of 4. Perhaps it was to do with his ego that Hoseok had singled you out and wanted to work with you, even though he was clearly the more powerful tribute between you. He had taken it as a threat. A threat to his chances if you did side with Hoseok given Hoseok and Namjoon were on near equal footing, and the thought you had chosen Hoseok could have been seen as some act of betrayal. Never mind the fact you had done everything you could to try and avoid Hoseok, including telling Namjoon himself and asking for his help. Was he really that stupid enough to be mad you didn’t continue to beg him after his rejection?

“District 3, male.”

You supposed if he hypothetically succeeded and did psych you out into getting a terrible score it would be his own way of re-establishing himself as the desired tribute from 4. A reminder over your head that you weren’t a real career, and being brought into their alliance was an act of charity. A mercy killing to grace you with their presence before taking you out later in the game as an easy option. You longed to prove him wrong. Not just him but Hoseok also, the both of them for thinking you were pathetic and in need of their protection. His mockery and attempted sabotage was only acting as fuel to your fire.

“District 4, female.”

Your head snapped up to see the clipboard man standing in front of you. Wordlessly you nodded and got to your feet. You ignored the feeling of the eyes from the other tributes in the room staring at you as you had to walk past them to the exit. You were lead back down the same pathway you had taken from the training complex to the waiting room, only this time when you re-entered the training center you were the only person inside. Clipboard man hung back in the corridor and the only other people you could see were the game makers through the window in their viewing room. The center layout had been rearranged, with dummies and targets placed in optimum viewing range from the game makers’ vantage point.

“L/N, F/N, District 4, Female, 18 years of age” a voice crackled through the speakers overhead by means of introduction, as you walked over to the marked spot on the floor you had been instructed to stand.

It was a strange feeling looking up at the pompous judges dressed in their flamboyant outfits with pretentiously fluorescent dyed hair and beards. It was as if they were dressed up for an expensive night on the town and you, and the other twenty-three, were their performers for the evening. It was weirdly easy to put the judges in the back of your mind, despite being able to clearly see the room of around twenty people intently staring at you with interest. The all looked so fictional and outlandish that it was easy to dismiss them as some sort of strange figment of your imagination. They didn’t look like real people, which somehow made it possible for you compartmentalize them as imaginary, and instead focus on the task at hand.

Looking at the assortment of weapons on display, you mostly ignored the large range on offer and went straight for the knives. Running your fingertips along the handles you picked out a hunting knife with a blade that would have been around 8 inches long. There were smaller, thinner, knives specifically made for throwing on offer, however the ones you had practiced with back at home were the larger kind on your boat. Gingerly you bounced the handle in your palm, trying to get a quick feel for the weight. Looking up you examined the range of targets that were on display – some quite close and others much further.

You went for the closest target, that was five meters away, as a warm up.

Thwack

The blade sailed easily through the air landing in the yellow zone, on the first circle outside of the bulls-eye. You shrugged your shoulders and rolled your neck with an exhale, not a bad start and a good way to get the nerves under control.

You retrieved a second knife from weapons trolley and took your aim for the next target that was ten meters away.

Thwack

Another yellow circle, except this time your knife landed in the second circle outside from the bulls-eye. Your pursed your lips with a shake of your head. It was still in a decent range but you were hoping to improve on your last throw rather than getting further from the bulls-eye.

You went back for another knife, choosing another one like the last two you had thrown, and lined up for the fifteen-meter target.

Thwack

Red zone, just outside the yellow. If you were aiming at a person, rather than a circle, that would have been lucky to connect. You let out a sharp exhale with a sigh, you weren’t doing bad – you’d made contact with all three targets so far – but you weren’t establishing yourself as a threat either. Not on the level that you knew the other careers were going to be scoring.

Returning to the weapons rack you found there to be one knife left that was in the same size range as the others you had used so far. You turned the knife over in your hand weighing up your final options. There was a final target twenty meters away, but with the rate you were throwing, you’d highly likely just continue to move further away from the bulls-eye. You could always try to throw on one of the other targets again and work to improve your existing result, but it would be difficult to improve much on the first impression of being ‘good, but not great’. Your last option would be the dummies. The dummies were situated on the opposite side of the targets and provided a more human edge to demonstrations. You had elected to use targets in the hope of showcasing solid aim through a bulls-eye, but that hadn’t exactly worked out. With one knife left you decided to try and showcase something a little more realistic.

The dummies were grey and faceless, just human shapes of rubber, which was a lot different from what you would be facing in real life within the arena. If you couldn’t land a shot on a stationary figure you were practically as good as dead. Not only did you need to prove a score to the judges, but you wanted this for your own confidence. With a frown, you turned and launched your blade ten meters across the room into the head of a dummy with a satisfying Thwack.

You didn’t bother to look up to the balcony and see their whispers and nods of approval, instead walking straight over to the dummy and pulling the knife out from the rubber. You weren’t finished yet; you were going to show them what a fishing district knew how to do best…

Grasping the handle, you plunged the blade into the sternum, deep enough to reach what would be the back bone of a human, and dragged the blade down to the pelvis. Pulling the knife out you made horizontal slashes along the chest and the hip where your line down the body had began and ended. Tossing the knife aside, you reached your hands inside of the dummy, pulling it open.

Granted the physical anatomies between a fish and a human were quite different, but the concept of gutting was quite easy to get across.

Once the assessment was over you were lead back to your living quarters. With the pressure subsiding and adrenaline wearing off, you found your hands beginning to tremble. You were thankful to have your water bottle as some sort of distraction, shakily taking sips to try and calm yourself down. By the time you finally arrived back to the dorm you were only able to answer Finnick’s “How did you go?” with a quick “fine” as you hurriedly rushed to your bedroom, not wanting to stick around and see Namjoon again until you absolutely had to.

The assessments were scheduled to run until 4:00pm, with the results being broadcast at 4:30pm, before tributes were due to report at the auditorium at 5:00pm to begin preparing for interviews. You were grateful to be from one of the earlier districts, which left you with more free time between the conclusion of your assessment and your next schedule. Your bedroom contained its own en suite bathroom so the first thing you did upon entering was strip off your clothes and head for the shower.

You spent a long time under the hot running water, sitting on the tiles and letting the shower cover up the sound of your crying. It had become somewhat of a routine for you to return from training and cry under the safety of your showerhead where no one else could see or judge you for it. The emotional toll it took to bury your feelings and avoid crying in the training center, in front of the career pack, in front of the judges, or out of fear every waking moment of your life now was strenuous. The shower was your haven, a place where you could wash away the sweat and grime from your day, and allow some form of pent up release. Today’s shower would be the longest one you had taken since entering the capital.

A knock and Finnicks’ muffled voice through the door told you it was after 4:00pm and the results would be broadcast soon, so you reluctantly turned off the taps and began to dry off. You were told that hair, make up and styling would take place in the auditorium later, so you dressed in the most comfortable clothing that you had been provided with; a cashmere sweater and matching sweatpants. You waited in your room as long as possible, before putting on a pair of slippers and walking out to the lounge room at 4:30pm.

Finnick, Periwinkle and Namjoon were all seated on the sofa facing the giant television, which was currently displaying Caesar Flickerman and a co-host you didn’t recognize behind a desk. Wordlessly you joined them, choosing a spot next to Periwinkle on the lounge, the opposite side of where Namjoon was sitting.

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the scores!”

You frowned at how enthusiastic Caesar seemed to be over his job. His mouth was spread into a wide grin, showing off his artificially white teeth, and his emerald green eyes (that had to be contact lenses) were practically glowing with excitement. You all sat in dead silence, if it weren’t for Caesar’s voice reading out District 1 you would have been able to hear a pin drop. The results weren’t surprising to you in the least. Krystal and Yoongi both scored 9s, Athena a 9 too and Hoseok 11. The girl from District 3 who had fallen in front of you on the monkey bars only managed a dismal score, the same as her district number. Her male partner only fared slightly better with a 5.

“District 4, F/N, L/N! Oh, she certainly captured many people’s attention at the parade, but is she as deadly as she is beautiful?”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff.

“You better not do that when he talks to you on stage,” Finnick warned.

You sarcastically put on an overly fake smile and fluttered your eye lashes back at him, until your expression was wiped blank by Caesar’s next words.

“Miss L/N, 10.”

Your jaw dropped as Periwinkle burst into enthusiastic applause, Finnick cocked an eyebrow with an impressed nod and Namjoon let out a low whistle.

“Someone’s been hiding something~,” Namjoon sing-songed as you closed your open mouth and took in a deep breath. You shook your head.

“Just the same knife throwing I’ve been practicing,” you replied.

Technically that was not a lie, just an omission of the gutting part. You wondered what it was about your little stunt that had pleased the judges so much. You were hoping to bump yourself to an 8 or 9 to at least try and blend in with the careers, instead you had somehow managed to establish yourself as a threat amongst them. With how much you had been pushed around so far you were glad to at least have one moment of impact. But now you had to be worried about the extra target being a threat could potentially put on your back.

Namjoon didn’t reply further as Caesar read his name and announced his score of 9.

You blanched. There was no way in hell you were more skilled than Namjoon was with a weapon. You looked over, expecting him to be furious, but he merely sat there with a content expression on his face nodding at the TV.

“Someone’s been hiding something,” you repeated Namjoon’s words back to him.

Namjoon’s only response was a smirk.

You didn’t like the way he looked like he knew far more than what he was sharing.

I'm a bit annoyed because I planned to combine the final training day and interviews into one chapter. But I found it was starting to get too long, as this part was already hitting 7000 words.

Next chapter will be the interviews and fallout from certain things the characters say in them

Chapter after will FINALLY be what everyone here wants (especially me) - the actual Hunger Games in the arena

Sorry to keep dragging it out, my brain hates me.

#yandere hoseok #yandere bts #yandere #yandere bts fic #yandere jung hoseok #bts x reader #dark bts #dark bts au #y!hoseok #hoseok fic #hoseok x reader #hoseok au #dark jhope #HUNGER GAMES AU

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ais-for-alex · 3 years

Text

The Scars of Our Past: Chapter 26

Logan was avoiding mirrors, the moment his eyes caught sight of his own image in the reflective surface he forced himself to look away almost instantly. He couldn’t stand to see the gash just over his eyebrow, still held together by a steri strip, the skin around it purple and blue with mottled bruises. He couldn’t stand to look at it, because each time his eyes caught hold of the physical reminder of that game Logan found himself snapped back onto the ice. Back to that moment he glanced up through bloody fingers to see his normally even-tempered best friend filled with a white-hot rage, beating another man down onto the ice. Logan would see that horrible look in his eyes, the look that if someone hadn’t pulled him off of Carrow, Finn would have continued hitting him until his hands bled.

Almost worse than that though, was the memory of their conversation afterward, in the locker room. Logan could hear Finn’s words, playing over and over, like the needle of a turntable getting stuck creating a fucked-up loop of his voice.

You’re a fucking coward. You’re a fucking coward.

The hardest part was that Logan knew Finn was right, he is a coward. He had been running away from his feelings for his best so long, now it was all he knew how to do. Sadly though, it seemed that while Logan was too busy running with his tail between his legs, he had finally pushed Finn to his breaking point.

In all the years he had known him, Logan couldn’t remember a single time he had actually raised his voice to him, despite all of the shit they had been through together. The sound of hurt in Finn’s voice as he begged Logan to just tell him, was a sound he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

Coward.

I know.

It felt weird now, sitting in the locker room. The rest of the team seemed completely unfazed, they moved and joked as if Logan and Finn hadn’t flung themselves over the jagged edge of a cliff and were now tumbling through the endless sky. Just waiting to see if there were rocks at the bottom of the fall waiting to break their bodies on impact. In their defense though, the team didn’t know any of that, however, Logan still felt like their cheer was out of place.

Finn hadn’t been there when Logan got in that morning but even without the man himself there, he was avoiding Finn’s stall like the plague. Logan had zero desire to step back into that space, back into those memories so he kept his eyes firmly trained on the floor. He made quick work of getting his skates and pads on, so quick he ended up being the first player out on the ice for practice.

Beginning his warm ups Logan took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then when he breathed out, he pushed away every thought in his head. He let the scrape of his skates on the ice drown out the memory of Finn’s voice, he let the smooth glide of the puck against his stick ground him in the moment, he let his mind focus on Kasey getting the puck past his sharp eyes into the back of the net. Over and over those were the only things Logan let his mind focus on, scrape, slide, shoot, that was it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally heard Coach’s whistle signaling the end of practice and he joined the throng of his teammates shuffling off the ice.

Logan savored the feeling of hot water coursing over his body, the feeling of it rinsing away the sweat that clung to his skin, he closed his eyes and let the spray wash over his face.

“Dude! Drop it,” Finn’s voice echoed through the shower as he wandered into the showers.

“Oh, come on Don Juan, tell us about her!” James said teasingly.

Her, Logan’s eyes opened, the water stung but he didn’t care, her?

“So what? She sees your fight on the ice and suddenly you’re just irresistible?” Logan turned to find James ruffling Finn’s hair.

“Pfft, I’m always irresistible,” Finn laughed and gestured to his naked body, “unlike some of us,” he said, giving James a bit of a shove before turning on the shower head and stepping into the steaming water.

“Ok first off rude,” James said indignantly as he turned on his own shower, “and second I’m not letting this go until you tell me something, hair color, eye color, was she at the game? She’s not a snake’s fan, is she? Ugh,” James shivered in disgust.

“Seriously?” Finn scoffed, turning his head to shoot an exasperated huff. When he did though Logan’s eyes zeroed in on the dark red bruise over his pulse point, distantly it clicked in his mind that this was probably what had prompted James’s probing but in that moment he didn’t care. Logan felt sick, the thought of Finn going out and finding just some random girl after their fight made his skin crawl.

“Please! I live vicariously through other people!” James shouted.

“Fine, blond. You happy?” Finn asked with a shake of his head.

“No, but I’ll accept that’s the only information you’re gonna give me.”

Logan was done, he didn’t want to hear another word, didn’t want to think about Finn and her whoever she was. He quickly shut off the shower, snagged his towel, and hastily moved towards the exit. Out of the corner of his eye though he noticed Finn glance up at him just as Logan slipped through the door back into the main area of the locker room.

He moved mechanically, it felt like his hands had flipped into autopilot as he pulled his clothes on over damp skin, darkening the fabric of his shirt as his hair dripped onto his shoulders until Logan roughly shoved a snapback on his head. Logan grabbed his things at random and chucked them into his bag hoping to make a quick escape, but just as he was zipping it up Logan felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder. Every muscle in his body tensed then melted as a shiver ran down his spine as the soft brush of Finn’s thumb against his neck, Logan couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips.

“Hey,” Finn whispered in a hushed voice, “it’s not what you think.”

It felt like his heart was breaking but Logan shoved the feeling aside and shrugged out from under Finn's touch.

“It's fine Harz, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you want to go out and screw around with random girls, it’s your right to do so. Not my place to have an opinion.”

“Lo…” Finn’s voice was sad and soft.

“I’m- I’m going home,” Logan said, slinging his bag onto his shoulder, the strap digging into the place Finn’s hand had just been.

“Give me a minute to get dressed and I can drive you,” Finn replied. Logan’s heart shattered even further at that, the small selfless offer, because this man; even when he was mad and hurt he just couldn’t seem to stop himself from caring for the people in his life.

“No,” Logan said firmly, “it's fine, go finish your shower. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that Logan stepped away, leaving Finn behind standing in front of his stall as fled the ice rink out into the blistering cold winter air.

***

Logan pretended not to notice the slight tremble in his fingers as he slid his phone from his pocket and typed in the pin number. He pretended that the cold afternoon air wasn’t burning his lungs as he made his way down the sidewalk heading home. And he pretended the reason his heart was beating out of his chest was just lingering adrenaline from practice rather than the roiling jealousy in his stomach. Logan pretended he wasn’t turning green with envy over some faceless, nameless woman who got to so carelessly touch Finn the way his fingers had itched to touch him for years. He pretended that the blood running through his veins wasn’t spiked with bitterness, that it was her lips that sucked wine colored marks into the warm skin of Finn's throat rather than his own.

Shakily, Logan pulled up his contacts and scrolled past Finn’s and easily found the number he was looking for, the call rang loud in his ear for a moment before finally connecting.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, his voice filtering through the phone, his breathing was loud like he was panting heavily.

Logan wasn’t entirely sure why he had called Leo, all he knew was that he was sad, and jealous, and hurt, and the one person he would normally turn to for comfort was firmly off the table considering he had just walked away from him. All he knew was that Leo made him happy, and Logan desperately wanted to feel happy right now.

“Hey,” he said softly, “whatcha doing?”

“At the gym,” Leo huffed, “running- grabbed the call- on my- headphones,” his words were interrupted by sharp breaths.

“Oh, um- sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work out.”

“S’ok, I’m- almost- done,” there was a faint beeping on Leo’s end of the call as he turned down the speed on his treadmill, he was still panting but his breaths seemed to start coming easier. “So, what’s up?” Leo asked when he was breathing a bit more evenly.

“Ah, not much. Just left the rink and I-“ Logan paused, he wasn’t sure how he wanted to finish that sentence. He what? Ran away like the coward he is? He wanted to be comforted by the man that made his insides squirm just to think about over another man?

“Lo? Are you ok?” Leo asked, voice soft and filled with concern when Logan’s pause stretched a bit too long.

“I- yeah, I’m- I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” Logan shook his head as if he could shake loose the thoughts in his mind.

“Alright, if you say so,” Leo said, accepting the answer but Logan could hear it in his voice that he didn’t entirely believe it was nothing. “Hey! What are you doing in like an hour?”

“Um, nothing?” Logan answered a bit thrown off by Leo’s sudden question, “Why?”

“If you want some company, I can come over? We can hang out, if you want?”

Logan felt something tight in his chest break loose at Leo’s offer, “yeah?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Logan could practically hear the smile in Logan's voice, “It’ll be fun.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon then,” Logan said softly, a smile beginning to pull at his lips.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When the call ended Logan sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket, he glanced up when a car honked near him only to find Dumo’s car pulling up next to him.

“Why the fuck are you out here walking?” Dumo asked through his open window as the vehicle rolled to a stop.

“Ne posez pas de questions stupides, vieil homme. Laissez-moi entrer,” Logan huffed, trudging over to the passenger door.

Logan rolled his eyes at Dumo’s chortled laugh as he popped the lock to let him into the car.

French translation: Don't ask stupid questions, old man. Let me in!

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Chapter 25 Chapter 26

#sweater weather #coast to coast #leo knut #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #the scars of our past #writing #hockey #figure skating

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cardinalnuggets · 3 years

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Date Night

Pairing: Ayna x f!mc Word count: 3430 Rating: T Summary: Kennedy just really misses Ayna so she enlists Dionne to help her see her again. Warnings: mentions of cancer (they talk about Ayna's dad) Enjoy my lovelies!

“Di?”

“Hmm?”

She had her feet propped up on the coffee table in their shared space, painting her toenails a vivid red. As concentrated as she was, she didn’t look up as Kennedy entered the room.

“You know how you set up that secret date for Ayna and me?”

“Hmm,” she replied again, focussed on wiping excess polish off the skin next to her toe, “you mean the one that you’ve already showered me in thanks for? I may love the attention, but you can stop now.”

“Yeah. But that’s not why…” Dionne looked up at her finally with a bored look on her face. “Anyway, what I was going to ask is…would you be able to help me plan something similar, but with me surprising Ayna this time?”

Dionne’s face lit up like a burst of fireworks in the night sky. Hastily, she waved her hands in front of her toes, as though that would dry them faster so she could be on her feet again.

“Really?” She squealed, in a voice so loud and high pitched that it probably broke the sound barrier.

“Yeah. Please.” Kennedy sighed, plopping down onto the sofa next to Di. Her mood seemed almost exactly the opposite of her suitemate’s. “I know I see her everyday in class but it’s…not the same,” she said, pulling a face as she realised how pathetic that sounded out loud. “I miss her. A lot. And I’m not sure when I’ll next get to see her alone what with all the paparazzi around. I don’t want to drag her into another scandal but,” she shrugged half-heartedly, “I just really miss her.”

Another fire-alarm like squeal left Dionne and her whole body was practically vibrating. “Are you kidding? I’m living vicariously through your love life and I LOVE planning surprises. Of course I’ll help you.”

She leaned over to put the nail polish safely on the coffee table and grabbed her phone instead, fingers already flying across the screen.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do…”

------------

Several hours later, Kennedy found herself pacing back and forth across the floor in their living room, wringing her hands together. Evening had not long fallen and the last of the day’s light was disappearing outside. Ayna should be here any minute if all went according to plan and that should have put her at ease but…what if she doesn’t show. As much as she trusted Dionne and her fool proof planning, there was this little niggle of doubt that something would go wrong, and it would all be for naught. And, as time marched on, that little niggle had become a full-blown panic.

“Ugh, pull yourself together Kennedy,” she berated herself, forcing herself to quit the pacing. She shook out her hands as though she could just shake the nerves out of them. Pulling herself up to her full height, she took out her phone out to check for any updates but deflated when she saw that there were none.

“Please let her –”

She didn’t get to finish her thought before there was a quick, sharp knock against the door to their suite. Her head whipped towards the door, eyes widening.

“Oh,” she whispered, taking a moment to fuss at her hair and outfit before she started towards the door. After pausing to take a last deep breath and plaster a smile on her face that hopefully didn’t belay her nerves, she all but threw open the door.

Ayna stood on the other side wearing the same tight skirt and blouse she had been wearing in class. Even though she didn’t look any different than she had a few hours before, Kennedy still thought she was breath-taking. And just like that, she felt the last bit of worry melt away.

“You look amazing,” Ayna stuttered out, eyes bulging as her gaze ran down Kennedy’s body.

Kennedy ran her hands down the tight burgundy dress hugging her curves and grinned at the desire glittering in Ayna’s eyes. If that wasn’t a confidence boost, Kennedy didn’t know what was. How did she manage to get so lucky that such a beautiful woman wanted her?

“You like the dress? Dionne helped me pick it out.” Dionne had forced her into it, more like. But if it was getting this kind of reaction from Ayna then she couldn’t complain. In fact, she’d have to remember to thank Di. Again.

Making sure to accentuate the movement of her hips, Kennedy stepped back from the door to let Ayna into the suite. She didn’t move, however, her gaze simply falling to rest on Kennedy’s ass.

“Wow, you really do like the dress,” Kennedy said with a melodic laugh.

Those expressive dark eyes were burning when they snapped back up to meet Kennedy’s and Ayna’s lips were pulled into a wicked grin.

“The dress is nice,” she began, finally stepping over the threshold to the suite and snaking her arms around Kennedy’s waist, “but it’s youthat I like.”

“Oh?” Kennedy questioned, mimicking her cheeky smile. She let the door snap shut behind Ayna, leaving her arms free to wrap around her neck.

Instead of answering her, Ayna leaned in and pressed her lips to Kennedy’s. It was little more than a peck but Kennedy could already feel herself melting. A week was far too long to wait to feel those lips against hers again, feel the warmth of her soft body pressed against hers.

“Hi,” Ayna breathed as she pulled back to press a kiss to the tip of her nose and then her forehead. “Dionne was very secretive about what you were both up to but told me to be here for 7.”

With an unladylike snort, Kennedy disentangled herself from her. Grasping her warm hand in hers, she led her down the short hallway leading to the main living area. The room was bathed in the soft glow of several candles dotted around the room. The kitchen island was set for 2, complete with a bottle of wine and an array of take-out food. Sitting in a vase in the middle of the coffee table was a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers.

Kennedy turned, delighting in the look of awe on Ayna’s face as she took in the cosily decorated space. “I wanted to take you on a date, but with the paparazzi only getting more invasive instead of losing interest, I didn’t think it was a good idea to go out somewhere. So,” she paused to sweep her arm towards the room as though presenting it, “this is what Di and I came up with instead.”

She reached towards the vase of flowers before holding them out to Ayna. “These are for you.”

Ayna’s eyes were shining with emotion as she reached out to accept the flowers, but her smile was brilliant. “You did all of this for me?”

“Well, there was a good bit of selfish motivation there too. I missed you.”

Just when Kennedy didn’t think Ayna’s smile couldn’t get any wider, it somehow did. “I missed you too,” Ayna breathed, hugging the vase of flowers to her chest with one arm so she could wrap the other around Kennedy’s waist. “And thank you for all of this,” she added before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“Shall we eat?” Kennedy asked, gesturing towards the waiting food.

Conversation flowed smoothly as they ate and enjoyed their wine. They spoke of everything and anything from their childhoods to their hopes and dreams for the future. It was so effortless between them, one topic just flowing naturally into the next, soft glances and touches shared between them.

As they finished up their food, they fell into a comfortable silence. With Ayna focussed on watching the other woman’s thumb stroke the back of her hand, Kennedy took the opportunity to let her gaze wander over Ayna’s face. She was entranced by her sharp jawline, the cute little ears that peeked out from behind the curls framing her face and the long, dark eyelashes hiding her beautiful eyes.

Had she not been so engrossed in every flicker of her expression, Kennedy probably would have missed the way her lips pulled down in a subtle little grimace. “Hey,” she said softly, nudging her foot with her own to get her attention, “everything alright?”

Ayna’s eyes snapped up to hers and for just a moment, Kennedy could see an intense sadness glistening in her eyes before she blinked it away. “Yes,” she answered, squeezing Kennedy’s hand, “I was just thinking about how we’ve spoken of so much tonight, but there’s one important thing I haven’t told you yet.”

A long pause followed this, and Kennedy could see her steeling herself for what she had to say. Quietly, she continued to brush her thumb across the back of Ayna’s hand, willing to give her the time she needed to gather herself, despite the curiosity and worry she felt at what could evoke such a reaction in her.

“My father was diagnosed with colon cancer last year.”

Although it wasn’t any more than a whisper, Kennedy froze at the revelation. Not for a second would she have imagined that this kind, amazing, happy (or at least she had always seemed to be) woman was hiding something so painful.

“Oh, Ayna, I’m so sorry,” Kennedy breathed, reaching over with her free hand to wipe the solitary tear that tracked down her cheek. “Is he…okay?” What a stupid question to ask, she thought to herself, but she couldn’t think of any other way to ask is he going to die that wasn’t so blunt.

To her relief, Ayna nodded, a small smile curling at her lips, though it didn’t reach her sad eyes. “He’s been having chemotherapy and it’s shrunk the tumours enough that the doctors think they’ll be able to remove them successfully.”

Letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, Kennedy squeezed Ayna’s hand tightly in hers. “Good. That’s good. And how are you? It can’t be an easy thing for you to go through.” From how highly she spoke of her father, Kennedy could tell just how much he meant to her. Coupled with the fact that she had lost her mother so young, Kennedy could only imagine how hard it must be on her. Even if Kennedy didn’t often see eye to eye with her mother, being her only living parent, she knew she’d be beside herself if anything ever happened to her.

“I’m okay,” she replied, sending Kennedy a tender smile, “or at least as okay as can be expected. I’m terrified of losing him, but he’s been so optimistic the whole way through this and it’s so infectious. There will still be times when the fear and the sadness wins, but he always taught me to see the positive side of everything.”

The love Ayna feels for her dad shines through as she talks about him, even as she talks about something as sad as this. Kennedy once again finds herself in awe of this amazing woman, and so damn lucky that some day soon, she may love Kennedy with the same fierceness and depth.

“You know you can lean on me when you need to? You don’t need to go through this alone.”

Ayna flashed her a grateful smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

Shaking herself out as though she could shake away the whole conversation, Ayna stood. “Enough of that,” she declared and held out a hand to Kennedy, just as the song playing in the background changed to something slow and romantic. “Dance with me.”

Chuckling at the abrupt change of conversation but not wanting to push her if she didn’t want to talk about it more, Kennedy accepted her hand. They each wrapped their free arm around the other’s waist, cradling their joined hands between their chests as they swayed to the beat. Having Ayna in her arms was a kind of bliss she didn’t think she’d felt before. She’d truly do anything to feel the warmth of her body against her. Given how she could feel Ayna’s body loosen and melt against her with each of their gentle movements, Ayna must have felt the same.

“Thank you for this,” Ayna whispered against Kennedy’s neck as she buried her head there. She seemed to fit there like a previously missing puzzle piece, and Kennedy couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment than this. As cheesy as it may be, she wished they could stay like this forever – alone and without a care for what was happening outside of their little bubble.

“You’re wel – oh.” A surprised whimper cut her off as she felt Ayna’s lips languidly explore the skin of her neck. Her pulse jumped against Ayna’s lips and she knew she would be able to feel her heartbeat quicken from so simple a kiss. If it didn’t feel so good, she would have been embarrassed, especially as she felt Ayna’s mouth curl into a smile against her skin.

Her hands grasped the fabric at Ayna’s back as her lips climbed up her throat, sucking gently before the velvetiness of her tongue soothed any sting. Eyes falling shut to savour the feeling, Kennedy’s head fell back, to give her better access to her throat. Warmth bloomed under her skin, radiating to every corner of her body. All she could feel was Ayna - the heat from her body, the silkiness of her shirt scrunched in her hand, her hair and breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

Ayna’s hand buried itself in Kennedy’s hair and tuggedas she nibbled on the skin over her jawbone. A startled moan escaped her, and she tugged Ayna impossibly closer.

“Either you really want me or you’re far too easy to rile up,” Ayna breathed as her lips hovered over her ear. Despite the teasing tone of her voice, Kennedy could hear that she was just as affected as she was and it made her shiver with delight.

“Can’t it be both?” she laughed, her voice huskier than normal. Ayna pulled away to grin at her, and the evidence of just how much she wanted Kennedy too was swirling like a tornado in the depths of her eyes. For a moment which could have been a second or a lifetime, they lost themselves in each other’s gaze, balancing on the knife’s edge of freefalling into one another.

Like two magnets, they surged towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss that was as messy as it was passionate. Kennedy’s world narrowed to Ayna and only Ayna – the silky feel of her tongue tangling with hers, the feeling of being securely held in her arms, the taste of the wine and the chocolate strawberries they’d eaten lingering in her mouth mixed with something that was so uniquely Ayna and the floral scent of her perfume surrounding her. It was everything.

Kennedy grasped tight to Ayna’s back and walked them backwards until her own back met the counter behind her. Picking up on exactly what she needed, Ayna’s hips pinned her there as her hands plunged into her hair. Tugging Kennedy’s head back, she impossibly deepened the kiss, and God, Kennedy swore she had never been kissed quite like this before. It was like she was adrift, lost and Ayna was the only thing anchoring her but somehow, she was still getting lost in her.

A sharp squeak that came from neither of them had them jumping apart as though they hadn’t already been caught. Two sets of wild eyes turned towards the noise, both of their chests heaving to try and get their breathing back under control. And there Dionne stood, a look of triumph on her face, even if her cheeks were darkened in embarrassment, obviously having not realised what she was going to walk in on.

“By all means don’t let me interrupt you,” she all but cackled and in that moment, Kennedy wanted nothing more than to shove her back out the door she’d just come through. She wondered how both her and Ayna had been so lost in each other that they hadn’t heard her come back home.

Kennedy glanced over at Ayna to see her cheeks flushed darker than she would have thought possible. How much of that was embarrassment, and how much was left over desire from where they had been headed two minutes ago, Kennedy wondered. Carefully avoiding both her and Dionne’s gaze, Ayna was running her hands over her clothes, straightening them after Kennedy’s wandering hands had rumpled them. That one look at her was enough for Kennedy to know that Dionne had well and truly ruined the mood.

Quietly mourning the end of one of the best dates she had ever been on, Kennedy turned back to Dionne, jerking her head towards her bedroom. “Give us a minute, Di?”

Dionne very much looked like that was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, she looked like she was ready to burst with all the questions she had. Reluctantly, however, she dragged her feet towards her room. Thinking she was being smooth, Dionne left her door ajar, and Kennedy just knew she would be perched right next to it to listen to whatever they said.

“Door!” Kennedy called before she turned back to Ayna.

“You’re no fun,” came a quiet huff from Dionne’s room before the door snapped shut.

Barely holding in her laughter, she reached out to take both of Ayna’s hands in her own. Those soulful dark eyes finally looked up at her and they softened as they took in the grin on Kennedy’s face. Her whole posture loosened then, as though she’d needed confirmation that Kennedy wasn’t ashamed to be caught in a compromising position with her.

“Sorry about her,” Kennedy began, jerking her thumb towards the door her suitemate had disappeared through. “At least she only walked in on us kissing. Could have been worse.” Which it most likely would have been had she walked in ten minutes later.

She finally let the laughter she had been holding onto escape her as she saw Ayna’s lips quirk up in a small smile. It didn’t take long before Ayna joined her, the two of them having to lean against each other to stop them toppling over from the force of their giggles.

Ayna’s laugh sounded so joyful that Kennedy found it sobered her quickly. She pulled back enough that she was able to see her face, so full of happiness that Kennedy was honestly awed by it. She looked so damn beautiful, and Kennedy couldn’t believe she ever could have gotten so lucky to meet someone quite as amazing as the woman in her arms.

“Thanks for such a wonderful night,” Kennedy’s breathy voice whispered. Her gaze wandered down to Ayna’s lips and she began leaning in, as though hypnotised.

Ayna’s lips met her half-way in a kiss much softer than those they had just shared. Her lips were so warm and silky that Kennedy knew she could easily get caught up in her again. Needing to taste her again, Kennedy’s tongue ran along Ayna’s lower lip, asking to be let in. Instead of opening her mouth for her, however, Ayna gently pulled herself back, though her grip around Kennedy’s waist didn’t loosen.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered a mere breath away from Kennedy’s lips.

Begrudgingly, Kennedy knew she was right and with one last lingering kiss, she stepped away from Ayna and headed towards the door.

“Thank you for this, Kennedy. I really needed this.” Ayna stepped up beside Kennedy, cradling the vase of flowers Kennedy had gifted her against her chest with one arm.

“Me too,” Kennedy replied as she leaned in to brush her lips against Ayna’s cheek. As she pulled away, her hand found Ayna’s.

“See you tomorrow.” Ayna pulled open the door and started out of it, but Kennedy refused to let go of her hand until she was too far away to reach anymore.

“Bye,” she breathed, watching her as she slowly faded into the distance, turning once to wave at her before she disappeared around the corner.

With a sigh that was half happy, half miserable at watching her go, she turned back into her suite. The minute the door closed behind her, Dionne was tearing out of her room, all but pouncing on her with excitement. It was almost enough to chase away the last bit of gloominess she felt at Ayna’s absence.

“So, tell me everything!”

#ayna x mc #ayna seth #myaynafic

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gyromitra-esculenta · 3 years

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Something Ends, Something Begins chapter 6/7 - still ‘Bad Witcher AU’. The song at the end is Quedate Aqui from Desperado.

Warnings: none (unless you count friendly ribbing and name-calling, weasels (one particular weasel), some saucy wording, and erotic food. kind of.)

The table is set, the white cloth covering it embroidered with shapes of flowers and animals stitched in vibrant colors, each corner adorned by a form of a stag raising on its hind legs with its head bowed, ready to fall with the full weight of its body on a contender. Rabbits and foxes - not one alike any other found on the fabric - peek from behind the green grasses and the bushes full of red and black berries. The smell of burning fat and caramelized sugar grows stronger as Mojmira pours another cup of rowanberry wine on the roast.

Jack tries to slink by Lila unnoticed but she still catches him by his ear as he passes, the disapproving twist of her lips never budging from its place.

"It is your brother's hair-cutting, and you're shirking your responsibilities. Go, help your sister."

"Yes, mother," Jack answers. He reflexively massages his ear for a bit before approaching Mojmira, who gives up her place by the spit to him with hushed words that put blush on his cheeks. He swats at her, and she ducks away with a giggle and a poke of her elbow to his side.

Gabriel, well aware it is his turn to hear admonishments, brings his attention back to Lila and her stern gaze even if his eyes want to linger on Jack for a moment longer.

"Witcher," she acknowledges him with a curt nod, "did you find what you were looking for?"

Did he? Gabriel observes Jack turning the spit, his face and neck still reddish, focused ostensibly on his task, but the half-smile and the twist of his hips tell a whole other story. Lord Murders-A-Lot sits perched on his shoulder with its nose scrunching as it scents the air.

Further in the back, in the shade of a plum tree, Sombra, with the lute hanging off her shoulder, talks with Adan. He postures - does he bark up a wrong tree, for in this one a cat that cares not for the dogs sleeps - and futilely tries to stay his eyes from her barely fastened shirt.

"I found a thing I never knew to look for."

Lila nods again, the incline of her chin still sharp - but deeper - the rings in her hair tinkle against one another with the movement.

"Take good care of him, witcher. There might not be another one of my son's ilk left in this world."

"You knew?"

"The babe slept dead in my womb only to wake up." Lila twines her fingers together over her stomach. "When he opened his eyes, I saw a boy I'd seen once before, when my mother brought me along to the village's alderman to see about the tylwyth foundlings."

Gabriel remembers it, Jack's small arms wrapped around him, chin propped on his shoulder, and the woman, her rich brown hair freely slipping from behind her back as she leaned down to speak in a language he was yet to learn, with a girl child at her side holding nervously her flowing skirts. Soon after, they were both handed off to the witchers regardless of Jack's promises of the village taking in the cubs even as strange as Gabriel. In retrospection, Jack was the stranger one, with eyes too blue and the complexion that knew no sun. A changeling, if there ever was one.

"And will you give him up to me, just like that?"

Lila scoffs, her lips quirking up almost imperceptibly as she regards him silently, enjoying his jest.

"He isn't mine to give, witcher, no more than the wind swaying the wheat or the songbird's trill."

It is true Jack belongs only to himself - there is no power in the world to force him to do naught but what he wants as long as he is what he is - and it is this fickle nature Gabriel had once dreaded, for no reason other but his own concern.

"He isn't yours to give, but mine to take."

Lila smiles, her forehead bowed; under the lashes, her dark eyes seem so much older, like they'd seen the world turn whichever way one too many a time.

The eyes of a sorceress.

Gabriel glances to the forest. No wonder she and hers were spared from the scourings.

"Come, witcher, sit, for today is the time of revelry, and you are our honored guest," Lila directs him to the table with a motion of her hand, turning already as if she considers their chat finished. Gabriel nods. The contract has been fulfilled. The fate won't be denied.

Sombra slipping into place by his side disperses those thoughts.

"Melitele's nips, am I hungry," she mutters and stretches vicariously before she switches her attention from the table to him, fingers idly tracing the line of her collarbone. "You look younger."

"I feel older."

"You're just tired."

"I don't tire," Gabriel counters, but Sombra smirks and pats her chest above her heart.

"You're as stubborn as I am, but take it from someone with more experience than you, just let yourself feel, let him take care of you."

"Like Amelie had of you?" The bait is tempered by the name, one of the many small concessions Gabriel made over the years, and the lines of Sombra's face soften into a shy expression of contentment.

"Yes."

"Have you...?"

"He's been... most accommodating."

Gabriel merely nods, his attention stolen for a moment by the commotion Jack and Mojmira make, both laughing as they try to take the roast off the spit while struggling to keep it in one piece, broken up only by Lila showing up to help.

"How is she?" He acquiesces, finally.

"Better than ever." Sombra quietens, an unguarded smile flickers across her lips. "Thank you. For asking."

They spend minutes in shared silence, neither wanting to break the moment of understanding - the interruption comes from Wrenund's booming laughter from the inside of the house. The man himself appears in the doorframe shortly after, leading Nielub in front of him with his hand on the boy's shoulder; they're both dressed in festive linen shirts bleached impossibly white, with cuffs and collars embroidered with red thread in a simple pattern. Gabriel finds he can't not smile at the boy's almost unrestrained energy, his wide eyes shining with excitement while he struggles to act solemn even if the day is one of celebration.

"Should I be the good godmother,” Sombra whispers, “or the spurned sorceress?"

"The versemonger.”

"Ah, so be it." She braces her elbow on Gabriel's shoulder and leans against his side. They both watch Nielub sit on the prepared stool - his legs bounce up and down, and he grips the wood of the seat hard enough for the color to leave his fingers. Wernund looks to his wife, who now stands together with Mojmira a few steps away. She nods, and Adan brings forward a jug of water, Jack walks behind him with shears in his hands.

"Nielub, my son, today, you become a man." Wernund gently tilts the boy's head back. With barely a trickle of water, he soaks Nielub's hair through and slicks them to his head before exchanging the jug for the shears. The sound of metal grazing on metal and hair being cut fills the sudden silence even the birds don't dare to disrupt. In the fields, cicadas sing.

Each lock shorn, a piece of childhood shed for the new responsibilities. Wernund works with gravity and care - and when he's finished, and Jack retrieves the shears, he stands in front of his son, urging him to stand up too.

"Today, you leave your child name behind. It has served its purpose and protected you. From now on, you are Woj, and you will be as strong as your name, you will be strong for your family, and no evil will ever best you."

Nielub - now Woj - smiles wide and throws his hands around Wernund's waist in an exuberant hug.

Jack thrusts the shears at Adan while giving him a determined look; Adan accepts them, rolls his eyes at Jack's back as he retreats towards the table in a hurry. Lila and Mojmira both take their turn to hold Woj close for a fleeting moment, whisper secret silent words to him.

This time, Gabriel's medallion stirs under the cloth of his shirt, the movement barely perceptible, but it's there: a relief, grounding him in the feeling of reality, the last vestiges of doubt dissipating like tendrils of morning mist blown away by the noonday breeze. Sombra notices, too, her face lighting up with well-hidden interest, and her arm shifting against his side - until the short reverie is broken by Jack planting the whole roast on a wooden board in the middle of the table before he unceremoniously forces himself between them.

Living. Breathing. Moving not unlike a drop of quicksilver in a juggled vial.

"Away with your bony elbows, ungulate," Sombra chastises him as she makes space. "One could cut jewels on your hips."

"I'm still growing!"

"The wrong way around."

"The right way," Jack pouts. His arm sneaks around Gabriel's neck, palm hanging loosely over his shoulder, fingertips brushing against the fabric. Gabriel covers Jack's hand with his own, his thumb pressing slow circles into warm skin. "You just wait, I'll show you."

"Surely, I am scared out of my wits."

"Of course, you are, you third-rate lute-ruining bard. After all, I am me," Jack pulls her close with his other hand and presses a heartfelt kiss to her temple, at which she laughs, pushing him jokingly away.

"Piss off, ungulate," Sombra murmurs with no malice, "or I'll have you stuffed and mounted.”

"The horror. Just promise you won't be fucking anyone on my back, I've heard stories, you know."

"Melitele's holy teats!" Sombra moans, looking to the sky, and Jack, taking the advantage of her indignation, turns to Gabriel to sneak a quick chaste kiss to his lips.

Gabriel smiles against his mouth, the whispered 'later, little cub' coiling warmly behind his ribs even as Jack backs off slightly, eyes cast down but not really, not a shy or proper bone in his body, nor in the toothy grin languishing on his face.

"So, who's hungry?"

In an answer, Gabriel's stomach rumbles with anticipation.

"Shouldn't we wait...?"

But Jack is up and hunched over the table with the knife in his hand, fingers pressing down on the roast as he masterfully carves out thick slices of the meat bleeding sweet-smelling juices. Just in time, too, for the whole family to approach - Woj led to the seat of honor at the head of the table, Wernund at his right and Lila on his left - Adan and Mojmira bring the bread and the wine before settling down, her giggling and him merely rolling his eyes in kind. They scuffle for a moment under the table, Mojmira emerging with a triumphant smirk and Adan giving up with a pained hiss, his palms raised in an admission of defeat - yet he still gives Jack a knowing look before Lord Murders-A-Lot scurries up the tablecloth to chitter at him. Almost swatted away in return, the weasel runs into Jack's waiting palm, and then up the length of his arm, to perch on Jack's shoulder shortly before it settles pressed against his neck.

"You dare to raise a hand to my cherished retainer?" Jack mock-challenges Adan.

"'Tis a foul beast you entertain at your court," Adan plays along, eyes narrowed with a smirk. "Good the vatt'ghern has arrived to slay the bloodthirsty creature."

"Only if you have the coin, good sir, half upfront." Gabriel chuckles, and Jack collapses into a fit of giggles. Mojmira shushes them and pointedly looks to the head of the table.

Woj, with his father's guidance, picks a loaf of bread and breaks it in half. The first piece he offers to Wernund, the other to Lila; repeats until every guest at the table has their own piece of bread.

"I'm hungry!" He declares with unbidden enthusiasm - Adan toasts to it with his cup and a holler of 'hear, hear'. Gabriel hardly notices the meat making its way to his bowl in the sudden boom of liveliness - Jack and Sombra argue loudly over some insignificant trifle. Adan takes sides and Mojmira laughs unbidden before dishing out a scathing remark Sombra takes with no grace whatsoever, sputtering and tongue-tied for once - but that might be the doing of Mojmira’s bodice inconspicuously slipping lower.

Life goes on, regardless.

"Little cub," Jack draws his attention with a whisper, his eyes almost black in the most human way, cheeks flush with rowanberry wine as are his lips - a droplet of it in the corner of his mouth; Gabriel wonders if it would be sweeter if tasted in a kiss, almost succumbs. Jack presses a cut morsel into his mouth; fingers brush against his teeth and tongue, slip out and trace his jaw, stop at his neck, press on the pulse of his heart in a deliberate caress. "Eat. And drink. You are a guest at my feast, too, cub."

Gabriel chews on the meat, slowly. The roast is surprisingly succulent, meat aged even if the game was caught yesterday, with a hint of bitterness broken by the juices, and chased by the tang of the wine.

"Good," Jack murmurs and offers another bite with his fingers.

The conversations flow around them as if no-one takes notice, Jack's eyes imperceptibly darker - a shadow clinging to his irises - his smile light and possessive, like nature reclaiming the once carved out of it domicile, embracing it back after the time of long separation. Which is, probably, the truth of it, on some level of an abstract interpretation. Gabriel does not mind, for it is the way Jack is and loves - and he wouldn't have it any other way, not since the moment he had asked a god to step out of his forest domain, foolish as he was then.

Banishing the traitorous doubting thoughts, he settles into the quiet comfort of being cared for, unfamiliar and foreign after being denied it for years. They will be back, he knows, the whispers of disbelief questioning his own sanity - but for now, Jack straddles his lap. And the wine Gabriel was right about. It is sweeter when drunk from the offered lips, the taste of it mingling with the living chaos.

Before she disappears from their side, Sombra glances fondly at him over Jack's shoulder. A shape of a magic-wrought creature hovers above her stretched-out palm. The light weaves into a dragonlike form that takes flight as soon as it's finished - joined soon by others of its ilk in a slow dance.

Woj chases after the illusions with laughter, enchanted both by the show and the wine flushing his face with a blush. Sombra smiles as she joins him in the play. A moment later, horseback knights woven with magic enter the fray.

Jack untangles his fingers from Gabriel's hair and slips into space she's left behind - his palm still rests on Gabriel's thigh, light and warm - and rejoins the conversation as if he's never abandoned it. Gabriel lets it flow around him, sipping on his drink. The sun starts to dip and the boy, tired out by the playtime, naps with his head on his mother's breast. Jack gives up his seat to Sombra and her lute, a fleeting touch sliding down Gabriel's back before he leaves.

Mojmira and Adan light the torches, Jack brings cold fish in a still crisp batter and, somehow, more of the wine. Gabriel wonders if Lila brews that much of it - or is it only for the festivities - or maybe there is an else thing afoot, and if Sombra might glean the secret to it.

The first notes of the lute sound over the cicada song that grows steadily in volume.

Jack unceremoniously deposits himself sideways in Gabriel's lap, with a full cup in his hand he tosses off as soon as Gabriel puts an arm around his waist to keep him stable and in place.

"I do think, the day calls for the most splendid songs," Sombra strikes a chord, a devilish smirk on her lips, and Jack almost lunges at her with a squawk - if not for Gabriel's grip over his stomach.

"Don't you dare, witch!" Jack sputters.

"Oh, but I do dare, ungulate, it’s the least you deserve!"

She continues the melody in spite of Jack spitting and hissing like a cat at a witcher. Gabriel chuckles over the comparison before he presses another cup into Jack's palm and feels him capitulate in time for Sombra to start the song not fit for any place other than a tavern, or a brothel.

"Please, just kill me," Jack whines with his face buried in the crook of Gabriel's neck when everyone at the table seems to know some semblance of the words that go with the tune, snorts angrily at the final chorus of 'Jack the Stag, he's never going to leave a lass unsatisfied'. "I demand reparations, for my slandered reputation."

"If you, maybe, had a reputation first, to slander," Sombra waves him off before starting on another song.

"See, the next time? I'll leave you hanging up there in some tree, just so you know, so you can reap what you sow."

"Cry me a river, ungulate."

Hiding under Gabriel's chin and with his fingers kneading into Gabriel's sides, Jack whines about ungrateful traitorous witches - it's all too familiar, as if nothing has ever broken this idyll up - and for this, Gabriel is thankful.

Soon, Lila retires, with Woj barely conscious in her arms mumbling sleepily as she carries him into the house, and Wernund follows, leaving the night to the youth, as he says, his old bones needing their full night's rest.

Sombra switches up her repertoire for an even raunchier one, perfectly happy to just entertain them all with a song between the sips of the wine Jack, despite his words, feeds to her to keep her throat wet. Her eyes follow Mojmira's silhouette with unbidden appreciation when she leaves - and then with pure adoration when she comes back with two more pitchers.

Somehow, Adan and Jack get into a drinking contest, each trying to drink the other one under the table in the shortest time possible, and, inexplicably, Gabriel finds his cup always full when he brings it to his lips, even after Jack bumps into it with his elbow and spills all. The effect is not a too-long wait away, Aden lies braced on the table, with his head buried in his arms, half-awake and clutching at the empty earthen jug.

"And don't ask me if I love you, don't you worry about what I think," Sombra hits low mournful notes on her lute.

Jack slips off his lap and Gabriel snatches his hand before he has a sliver of a chance to disappear; Jack meets his eyes with a demure look and fingers wrapping around Gabriel's own wrist as he pulls him off the bench.

"Just know I'm yours in my own way," Sombra sings. And Gabriel knows he's a sacrificial lamb led to its slaughter under the full moon - led past the dying torches - past the threshold of the barn he steps over out of his own unprompted volition. "But when I want to be your dream, I won't be satisfied with just your kisses."

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #totallynotwitcher!au #murder-deer

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in-my-head-i-do-everything-right · 4 years

Note

Hallie - “you had it figured out since you were in school/everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool.”

you’ve had it figured out since you were in school. everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool

Part of the reason why Allie even sends in that self-tape for that Disney show is because Cassandra tells her not to. She’s feeling rebellious. She’s thirteen.

Only then she gets a callback. And then a skype call with a casting director. And then another call but with the creator of the show. And then she’s across the country, out in sunny LA (it’s December, and it’s snowing back in West Ham, and this shift in weather is really freaking her out).

She gets through one audition. And then two.

She gets the part.

And maybe the show won’t even last a whole season. Maybe it’ll be cancelled before it even airs. Maybe she’ll hate her castmates. Or just LA in general. And, God, she can’t sing. Does Disney know that? Do they expect a music career out of her? Maybe this is all she’ll ever be known for.

But then Cassandra tells her to go for it, and then her family packs up and moves across the country, and suddenly… suddenly this is it.

Post-Disney, the first film she does is this small budget indie thing that films on location up in Oregon.

There’s a definite learning curve.

First of all, craft services sucks. Which makes her sound like a snob, but God, she is so used to these mini chocolate croissants available at all times. Like, on the last day of shooting that Disney show, she asked what bakery they were from. One of her co-stars had laughed at her like it was some kind of joke which honestly hurt more than the show ending.

Second of all, nature. As it turns out, shooting outside and shooting on a lot is a very different experience. And shooting out in the rain, which it is always doing in Oregon—twenty-four seven—is an… experience. But a fun experience. Really fun. Makes her think that maybe she’s doesn’t need the job security that Disney provided. Like, fuck that.

And, last of all, Harry Bingham. He gets a whole bullet on this stupid list because he’s the guy who thinks he’s somehow better than her because he got an Oscar nomination or something for a film just like this one. And he was twitter’s white boy of the month, something he is way too proud of. Like, he can’t even remember his twitter password, so why the fuck does he keep bring it up?

It’s really late and dark and a little cold. They’re sharing a fuzzy blanket because they could only find one and they both wanted it and when someone on set suggests they just share it neither could come up with an actual argument as to that’s a bad idea.

“You know,” he says, sort of out of nowhere, “my sister watched your show. I think she might be in love with you.”

“Oh,” Allie says, and she’s smiling at him. Not for the first time because, sadly, because he is way too funny for his own good. It’s upsetting. It’s not fair. “So, unlike you, she has taste?”

He scoffs, but he’s smiling too, very brightly. Maybe she doesn’t need the blanket. “I never said I didn’t like your show.”

She stares over at him, not trying to mask that look of surprise taking over her face. She’s just trying to picture him actually watching the show… and it’s not easy. It was a Disney show. It was stupid and immature and Harry fuckingBingham was most definitely not its target audience. She’s trying to picture him watching those commercials, the ones where she’d draw the logo with the fake wand.

Finally, she says: “Honestly, I wasn’t a huge fan of it.”

Harry lets out this light sort of snort, more an exhale than anything else. “Why’d you do it then?”

Allie shrugs. “It was a job. It was an opportunity. It was a chance that wasn’t gonna pass up just because I didn’t think it was some revolutionary thing.” She pauses, wrapping herself up just a little tighter in the blanket. “My family moved out here after I got the job. I was fourteen, and they gave up everything just so I could do this.”

“You’re good at this, Pressman,” he tells her, softly, and it’s stupid how much those words mean to her.

“Thanks, Harry.”

When they’re called back onto set, she swears his eyes linger a second longer than they probably should. That means something to her too.

They film a kissing scene in the rain, and she swears her heart stop for a half-a-second.

The director yells cut, and Allie can’t help it, the way she’s blinking up at him, a bit like he hung the stars in the sky, or whatever other sappy bullshit you feel when you start to realize—

It just didn’t feel fake for a moment there. On Disney, everything felt fake. She’s just not used to things being this natural.

(There are two fuzzy blankets waiting for them off set. They still share.)

Shooting ends on a Tuesday, and they fly back down to LA together on a studio provided jet.

Harry spends the flight tossing popcorn at her while she tries to watch Notting Hill.

“You’re being obnoxious, Bingham,” she says, one earbud out, turning to glare over at him.

He grins. “Just trying to keep you from falling in love with Hugh Grant.”

“Not possible. I’m already in love with him.”

“He’s old now.”

“Still hotter than you.”

“Not possible.”

“Verry possible.”

He scoffs. “And living vicariously through Julia Roberts isn’t healthy.”

“Oh, you know from experience, don’t you?”

“I actually met her once, at the Oscars.”

“God, everything with you always comes back to that Oscar nomination, doesn’t it, Bingham.”

He lets out this sharp, surprised laugh. She bites back a smile.

“I’ll introduce you to her one day,” he offers, it’s softer, more genuine than cocky. They’ve never talked about any sort of future, any sort of friendship that follows them past this film. Her breath catches in her throat. Her heart stops once again.

“I think I’d like that.”

She has a tiny guest part on some broadcast television sitcom. Craft services has those chocolate croissants. She wraps herself up in a fuzzy blanket and eats three.

She asks Harry if he’d want to grab coffee sometime.

He texts back yes almost immediately.

She wraps herself up just a little tighter.

She sits on the couch in Harry’s childhood home and watches her Disney show with his little sister.

“You’re even prettier in person,” Sarah tells her, almost unabashedly, and Allie blushes a light pink.

From beside her, Harry grins. “The Bingham’s have taste,” he says, his voice almost a whisper in her ear, and that makes her blush a dark pink.

“Sarah’s my favorite Bingham,” Allie announces, and the girl smiles and laughs and leans her head on Allie’s shoulder.

This feels a lot like family, she realizes, the soft familiarity of it all.

She likes it. She likes it a lot.

The morning Oscar nominations are announced, she wakes up beside him in his bed, wearing an old shirt of his, something warm and soft.

They lay in bed and eat chocolate croissants and wait for the call. And the sun hasn’t even risen yet—it’s so fucking early—but there’s something like adrenaline keeping her awake. God, it’s so stupid to be this attached to an award, a little statue that means practically nothing, but…

Harry lays his head in her lap. She plays with his hair.

“And if I don’t get nominated?” she asks, softly, carefully.

He stares up at her. “Then you find another script to fall in love with and do it all over again.”

“And if I do get nominated?”

“Then we figure out how to sneak snacks in the Dolby Theater and you write into your acceptance speech what an amazing guy I am.”

She’s laughing as the phone rings, and he’s sitting up to answer it. And then he’s smiling, smiling so wide, and that means—

Allie’s crying and beaming, and Harry’s holding onto her like he’s trying to keep her anchored, trying to keep her from floating away, and—

It feels a whole lot like everything was worth it.

She’s happy.

send me song lyrics and a pairing and i’ll write you a drabble

#the society #drabble #hallie #yeah. i also don't really know what this is #a disney au?#actors au #idk i'm just complete shit at properly addressing prompts #also. it hit me while writing this that WE'LL NEVER KNOW HARRY'S SISTER'S NAME #and that hurts

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whatwouldyourbiasdo · 4 years

Text

Freeze | optional bias | Song-fic

Title: Freeze Pairing: Optional x reader Tags: Angst, Fluff, Song-fic Author’s note: This one-shot song-fic is based on the song Freeze by Jordin Sparks.

Hold the pose, a perfect picture Just so I remember how you're looking tonight With one quick glance in the mirror, you check your appearance for one last time. In just a moment he would arrive to pick you up for the night you’ve been anticipating for weeks, and everything had to be perfect.

ding dong

The sound of the door bell starteled you slightly, sending your heart racing in excitement. Hurried footsteps moved from one room to the other, followed by the sound of the door opening.

“Good afternoon, I am here to pick up Y/N,“ His voice, smooth as honey and warm like fire managed to reach your ears even through the closed doors.

Hurried steps approached your door and a moment later, it swung open revealing the face of your roommate, beaming with a sense of excitement as if she was living vicariously through you. “Yah, how did you get a date with such a hot guy?!”

“I guess I was just born lucky,” You couldn’t help but smile, running your hands over your dress once more. It wasn’t just luck, it was just a crazy twist of fate. The two of you had been friends since childhood, your parents were close friends so naturally the two of you always spent time together. When he decided to pursue his dream of becoming an idol, you cheered him on as his closest friend. You never imagined that one day you could possibly become more.

With a deep inhale, you finally dared to step out of your bedroom to meet your date.

The moment you appear in his line of sight, a dumbfounded smile creeps on his face, eyes locked with yours. “Wow...” Under the intensity of his gaze, you can’t help but feel somewhat self-aware as your cheeks flush with a hue of shyness. “You look beautiful,” He continues, managing to snap out of his trance and taking a step towards you.

“Awww,“ The combined voices of your two roommates breaks the connection you shared between your gazes as you can’t help but glare back at them.

“Shall we?“ You turn to meet his gaze with a kind hearted smile, but before the two of you can reach the door, footsteps follow you.

“Wait! Wait!“ As the two turn around to look at your roommates again, your vision is blinded by the flash of a camera. As it slowly fades away and clears your sight once more, she nods her head apologetically. “Sorry-- Let me take a picture of you two.“ “Why?“ You frown, feeling embarassed by the way your roommate is acting. Sure, you could appreciate their support but it was just a first date and there was no reason for them to act like overbearing and most importantly embarassing parents.

“Yah, just stand together and smile,“ She huffs back at you, her phone at the ready to take another picture. “You’ll thank me on your wedding day.“

“Park Minah!“ You hiss out of reflex, your cheeks burning brighter than a fever. But the soft sound of his chuckle reaches your ear and you turn to look at his somewhat amused face.

“Let’s just play along,” He smiled, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he turned both of you towards the camera.

click click click

“Ah, such a handsome couple,“ she pouts as she continues to take pictures. “No wonder he’s an idol with those looks.”

“Ok, that’s enough, we’ll be late!“ You huff as you step back towards the door and hurriedly open it. “I’ll be home later, don’t wait up!“ You gently tug his arm to follow you in your escape from your roommates.

“Your friends seem... interesting...“

Biting your lip, you can’t help but bow in apology. “I’m sorry, they can be too much sometimes. I’ll make sure she’ll deletes those pictures later.”

“Delete them?“ He sounded surprised, placing his hands on your shoulders to straighten you up again. “Why? I’d like to save them, actually.“

“But what if they leak out... What would your fans think?“

He pondered your question for a moment before answering with a genuine smile, “They’ll think how happy I looked on this first date of many, hopefully.“

It was so simple, slightly teasing, and yet managed to send your heart racing once again. You had known each other for a while but never realized how much you liked each other until recently when he picked up the courage to ask you out. And you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Let’s go?“ Instead of waiting for your answer, he offered you his arm and without any consideration, you accepted it.

Let it go, now the days gone Standing in the dark, although we've turned on the lights

Your eyes had widened as you let his words sink in, an unexpected announcement that seemed to fall out of the sky on your anniverary celebration. “Y-you couldn’t tell me sooner?”

He shrugged innocently, “Our company didn’t tell us until this morning, it was a last minute decision...”

With your heart sinking, you pace back and forth in an attempt to collect your thoughts. “How long?”

“How long?“

“How long will you be away for?“

Again, he shrugged. “They’re still working on finishing the schedule, there might be more tour dates added... They want to take world tour literally.”

You stare at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape as you could feel a whirpool of words building up in your chest. But, you dare not speak. You have no right to be upset, not at him, not at the situation. It was a shock but you also realized that it was a huge accomplishment for him. A world tour. The first world tour. He worked so hard, how could you get upset at something so good. Glancing away, you bite down on your lip to hold down the urge to cry.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N... This is our big break...“ He tries to reason with you, his voice somehow saddened. “If I knew beforehand we could have pre--“

“I get it... Oppa...“ You manage to speak, your voice barely louder than a whisper. The excitement with which he broke the news completely disappeared from his voice.

“And if I could take you with me--“

“Go...“

His brows rise up in surprise, “What?”

“Go.“

He takes a careful step towards you, his brows now knitted into a frown. “Y/N...”

“Just go already!“ You yell at him, your tears finally breaking through. “If you have to go, go! Leave me alone!“

Your tearfilled eyes meet his gaze, stalling for a moment as his expression shifts. A soft, disappointed sigh escaping his lips. “I thought you’d be supportive...” without waiting for your answer, he turns around and disappears from your view.

The moment you hear the door slam shut, your legs give out as you slump fown to the floor. Hugging your knees to your chest, you allow the tears to run.

Tonight we will deny, that time is passing by It's leaving you and I to... Freeze a moment, its never been better Seated on your bed, you are surrounded by pictures. Memories of good times you spent together. The picture in your apartment, taken on the night of your first date. Pictures of your picnic by the Han River. Pictures of you on your birthday. Pictures of your eldest sister’s wedding day where you nervously had asked him to come as your date.

Freeze all over, we won't last forever

You said that you're sorry for pushing me But then smiled when I opened my eyes

Behind closed eyes you could still imagine the day he disappeared out of your life.

None of your friends and family knew what had taken place the day the tour had been announced. They merely assumed that due to his busy schedule, the two of you didn’t get to spent time together. Oh how you wished that was the reason.

They were going to depart from the company together, heading for the airport. Due to the excitement, their family had been invited to wish them luck before leaving and thus here you were. Standing eye to eye, your heart breaking as it remembered the last words he said to you two weeks ago.

“Good luck,“ You breathed, extending your hand for a handshake.

His gaze dropped from your face to your hand before traveling back up to meet your gaze once more. Reaching out, he took hold of your hand and pulled you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your smaller torso.

“O-oppa...“ Again, tears were stinging your eyes.

“I promise I will call you and text you every day,“ He whispered against your hair, his voice low and husky as he tried to mask his feelings. “And buy you lots of souvenirs!“

“You know it will be very hard to keep that promise...“ You sighed softly, he was going to be so busy with rehearsals and the concerts while trying to balance eating and sleeping. How could he possibly fit you in?

“No,“ He said with determination. “I swear on my life, on my family’s life, on my career, on my perfect abs--“

I'm gonna freeze a moment, while we're together

Stepping back to look at him, you noticed his goofy smile that managed to melt your heart a thousand times.

“Let’s take a picture together! In commemoration!“ One of his members called, gesturing their manager to get the camera ready while they ushered their friends and family together.

click Keep the peace, bygones be gone Coming up the rain under the life that we've made It was too good to be true, the fact that your heart believed his promise while your head knew better than to be gullible. He wasn’t able to keep his promise and you weren’t sure whether to be angry about the fact that he broke his promise or that you were foolish enough to expect him to.

It had been two weeks since his last call and days since his last message. You knew he was busy, you had known from the start. You had kept tabs on his schedules from the fansites, you knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. But he had promised. And you believed him.

Under here, we're not so soft Forgiving the feeling that we put on parade From the corner of your eye you noticed your phone lighting up. An incoming call. Was it him?

‘Don’t pick up, Y/N.’ You kept telling yourself to ignore the call. You knew it was petty but your heart was hurt and you didn’t want to hear his voice. Not right now.

After a minute, the ringing stopped and you curiously look at the caller ID. As you had expected it was him. Part of you felt guilty for being so petty and contemplated calling him back. Before you could even make up your mind, his name flashed across the screen again.

Taking a deep breath, you finally decide to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Y/N?“ His voice sounded tired.

“Ah, oppa...“ You mutter softly. “Hello.“

He chuckled softly. Oh, how you missed the sound of his laughter. “Ah, it’s so nice to finally hear your voice again!“

“Is it?“

There was a brief silence, although he seemed to excited to talk to you, the bitterness in the few words you spoke to him had not gone unnoticed.

“Are you angry?“

“I’m not.“

His sigh was deep and loud, “...I’m sorry, I should have called more but things got so crazy and I was so tired--“

“I understand.“

“Would it make you feel better if I said we’ll be back in two weeks?“

With pursed lips, you let his question sink in for a moment. Was their tour already over? Or did he just say that to keep her content for the moment.

“Why?“

“Why are you coming back in two weeks?“

You could tell it wasn’t the response he had hoped for. He probably expected you to cry and cheer, but instead he was questioned.

“We’re invited for a music festival in Busan so instead of a week off in Europe, we’re flying back for a while...“

And your heart leapt again. Just a moment ago you were wallowing in your own pity, selfishly sulking that in between his packed schedule, he hadn’t made you a priority.

“Can we meet then?“

“Of course!“ His voice perked up before getting distracted by some background muttering. “Ah-- I have to go now but I will see you real soon, okay?“

“Alright, oppa!”

Tonight we will deny, that time is passing by It's leaving you and I to... The moment you laid eyes on him, your heart fluttered like the first time you realized you had feelings for him. A sense of longing rushed over you as you made your way over to him. “Oppa!”

“Y/N!“ He smiled in greeting, catching you in his embrace. His voice sounded tired and his face looked worn but it was a sight for sore eyes nonetheless.

“I missed you.” Instead of replying, he merely nodded in return. A pout curled your lips as you glanced up at him. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Huh? Oh, of course I am,“ He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Just tired, I suppose. Listen, I have to go meet up with the others but I’ll see you at the concert tonight, right?“

Without waiting for your reply, he gently pats your head before walking away.

Freeze A moment, its never been better Freeze All over, we won't last forever

The headlines would never lie, especially not when reported by such a reputable source. There had been rumors for weeks, but you always turned away and ignored what they were saying. But everything somehow made sense now.

You weren’t pretty, maybe he told you but he was just being kind. You couldn’t light a candle to her. You didn’t understand his life, not really. You were just a commoner, not an idol like her.

How could the world have known before you did?

You said that you're sorry for pushing me But then smiled when I opened my eyes

“You are really too much,“ He yelled bitterly, throwing his hands up in frustration. You had marched into his dressing room with the backstage pass he had his manager give you earlier that day. The moment you saw him, you had started questioning him.

“Me?!“ You returned the favor with an equally bitter tone. “You’re the one fooling me, what did you expect?!“

"Fooling you? Fooling you how?” His gaze narrowed as he let your accusations sink in.

You pulled out your phone and showed him the search results, scrolling down the headlines, some of which had been accompanied by pictures. “Then what do you call this?!” You threw at him.

All the headlines reported on the dating news. But the articles weren’t talking about you, the picture didn’t show you. They told the story about a hallyu star and a succesful idol turned actress who had been spotted on numerous dates over the course of weeks, not just in Korea but also overseas the most recent one pictured below some of the headlines.

“Those are just rumors!“ He huffed though you noticed how hard it was for him to look you in the eyes, “We met up with mutual friends once, that’s all.“

“Then how come there are so many pictures of just the two of you?!“

“I don’t know, but it’s just a misunderstanding...“

“Yeah, right!”

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips, the intensity seemed to startle him even. “I know I haven’t been keeping my promise but you know I’ve only thought of you all this time... I love you Y/N!”

Tears were burning in your eyes, hearing him say he loved you only making things worse. You knew him well enough to recognize when he was lying and it angered you even more that he dared to utter those words while doing so.

“How can you say that so casually when you can’t even tell me the truth?“

His eyes finally met yours at the sound of your voice breaking, hesitating for a moment before releasing another sigh. “When we were in Japan... We did meet up with some mutual friends, we were trainees at the same time so we reminisced...”

“And?”

“And we had a nice time... We talked a lot and decided to meet up again while we were both around... We caught up in the moment so at one point we ki---“

Your hand flung up, he didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know where it was going and the tingling feeling of your hand crossing his cheek only fueled your already aching heart.

“... I wish the two of you the best...” You offered him a bitter, courteous smile before turning on your heel and marching off.

I'm gonna Freeze A moment, while we're together Don't stop, gotta know what you got There's no second chances in life He stared at the female before him, his brows knitted in a frown as all color had escaped his face. “You must be kidding...”

The beautiful woman shook her head, her black locks swaying in the movement. “It was fun for a while but you’re too embarrassing... I have a reputation to protect and you are just too much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!“

“Don’t take it personally, oppa. I really enjoyed our time together and we received much praise as a couple but... I need someone to raise me up, not drag me down.“

“S-so...“ His jaw clenched as he spoke bitterly. “You just used me for the publicity?“

She pursed her lips, “Don’t see it like that, we both benefitted from this. Now it’s time to move on, nothing personal.“ He stared blankly ahead as the woman gave him a quick peck on the cheek for the last time before exiting his apartment, leaving him all alone.

Don't break, gotta give what you take With you Freeze A moment, its never been better Ten missed calles and about twenty unread messages. Normally it would drive you crazy having so many notifications on your phone but you knew who the sender was and you had no interest in hearing his voice or reading his words.

After your last encounter two months ago, you made sure to avoid any and all mention of your name. You turned off the radio whenever their songs were played and stopped watching whenever they guested on a tv show.

You were so far lost in your own sorrow that you barely noticed the doorbell ring. There was a brief silence before your roommate’s voice called from the other side of your door. “Y/N-ah... There’s someone here to see you.”

You lifted your head from your knees as you had your legs pulled to your chest, “I’m sick. Leave me alone.”

Silence. Your roommates knew better than to press on the subject. They had seen you come home crying and tried to comfort you but you had shut them out. You needed to be alone.

Relaxing your legs, you turned to lie down on your side with your back facing the door. A few moment later you could hear the door open and with a loud, frustrated sigh you sat up.

“I told you to leave me--“ You scolded but your voice was stuck in your throat as your eyes met his. His eyes were equally red and puffy as yours were and the very sight of him broke your heart a million times again.

“Y/N...“

“What are you doing here?“

“You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts, I got worried--“

You scoffed, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and pushing yourself to your feet. “Why would I? There is nothing left to say to you.”

“I-I know i hurt you... I treated you badly and I wasn’t honest with you...“ His voice broke, his apology and his confession pouring straight from his heart. He had come to realize he threw away something amazing - a bond that was more than just love, it was friendship and comraderie, for someone who caught him at a vulnerable moment and made use of it. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should have let you go... I promised we would always stick together and I broke it. I’m so sorry.“

Freeze All over, we won't last forever

You remembered, when you were younger. When you were growing up side by side. Someone had told you a bed time story about a prince and a princess who had been bound by fate but lost each other when the princess was swept away by a dragon that no one in the land dared to challenge. No one except for the prince, he saved the princess and they promised to stay by each other’s side for forever.

It was a story you had fallen in love with, something you often played out and each time he would promise you he would be by your side. Even when he became a trainee, he continued to vow this earnestly. Even when he debuted. And up until recently, he had kept his promise. And here he was again, vowing to keep the promise once more.

But things were different now.

"We know very well that this is a promise neither of us can keep... Not like this...”

“But…”

You offered him a sad smile, tears rolling down your cheek as you met his pleading gaze. “The two of us, we live in different worlds and are chasing different dreams... And those dreams don’t work together... So, I will always be your fan and proudly support you instead.”

He reached forward and pulled you close against his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He didn’t want to let you go but he understood what you were saying. Maybe one day, your dreams could overlap and become one. But for now, it was better to remember the moments of happiness in the past while walking towards a future. Separately.

“One day... You will be my dream, Y/N.“ He whispered against your hair. “This, I promise.“

Freeze A moment, its never been better I Freeze All over, we won't last forever You looked at me with the truth in your eyes And you said it's ok, you can go I'm gonna Freeze This moment, while we're together Freeze A moment

#kpop scenario #kpop song fic #kpop one shot #kpop oneshot #optional bias #bias x reader #whatwouldyourbiasdo #sad #fluff #angst

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Stay | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Prologue

Summary: Twelve years ago, you ran into a former classmate of yours at a grocery store and ended up going on a life changing adventure. Thanks to your dear older brother, the two of you had become closer than you used to be. But Bucky Barnes... you had no idea what was going to happen between the two of you.

Word Count: 6535

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x OMC Arjun Y/L/N, Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: MINIMAL TAMIL DIALOGUE (I’m more than happy to translate!) & TAMIL CULTURE, References to Tamil Literature & Poetry, Mild Swearing, Alcoholism

A/N:This is my entry for @bucky-smiles‘s 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a Bucky fic inspired by my all time favorite Bollywood movie - Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani! Y’all should go watch it because it’s fucking amazing! But I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka. But I know that there are a few other Tamilian friends on this site who would love to read this. @jalapenobarnes & @fafulous, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, MY CHELLANGALA! Ever since I posted this fic, I have received so many kind messages from my fellow Tamilian and other Desi Marvel fans who appreciate the representation that this fic has provided for them. I appreciate every single one of you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much for your support for this fic!

12 years ago...

You pushed your black framed glasses up your nose as you squinted, the lined piece of paper in your hand looked like it had been ripped off of an old diary that your mother used to keep. The strains of oil and turmeric on the corner of it, and your mother’s writing in smudging black ink; you wondered how she had even thought that you would be able to read what she had even written. You looked down to read the grocery list in your hand as you let out another exasperated sigh. Your mother’s squiggly Tamil manuscript was barely legible as you tried to figure out what she had written for you to buy.

Despite the fact that you had moved to New York when you had been eight years of age, you had managed to learn English as a second language. While you were fluently speaking English by the time you were ten and had worked rigorously to be rid of your accent that had been the cause of all of the bullying that you had to endure, you could not let go of your first language all that easily either. Your parents had been it their mission to ensure that both you and your brother did not forget how to read, write and speak your mother tongue. From binge-watching VHS copies of old South Indian soap operas to enrolling you in Tamil language credit courses while you were in high school, their mission had certainly been a success.

You spoke Tamil just as well as you wrote it. Your knowledge of Tamil literature and poetry was also fairly extensive, compared to most Tamil kids who were actually born in America. You had read most of the Thirukurral and the poems of Mahakavi Bharathiyar, even Kamba Ramayanam and Silappathikaram. You had your father to credit for that. Your reading comprehension was fairly decent as well, but nothing could have prepared you to decipher what your mother had written on that marinated grocery list of hers.

“Hey, what the fuck are you starin’ at, huh?!” You heard a familiar voice call out, startling you in an instant. “Haven’t you ever seen sexy legs before?!”

As you looked up from the grocery list in your hand, you noticed the familiar red-headed Russian girl whom you had once attended high school with. In her ripped denim shorts and leather jacket, she looked quite feisty as she argued with a young boy whom she had just caught staring at her from behind in the checkout line. She had always been a ticking time bomb, not taking shit from anyone, teachers, bullies and cat callers alike.

“... I have. But those legs aren’t sexy.” The boy had responded to her with sass.

Your eyes grew wide as you parted your lips, unable to believe that a boy his age would dare to challenge someone like that. What even happened to kids these days?

“I’ll fucking slap you!” Natasha Romanoff spat at the teen, raising her voice as she grew irritated by his response. “Apologize! Apologize, right fucking now.”

At that point, the entire grocery store had been staring at the two of them. Leave it to Natasha Romanoff to start a scene like this. She had done so much more during her time in high school though.

While the two of you had not been close, you knew her well enough to know that she was not one to be messed with. The number of times she had almost gotten into physical fights with the jocks and the bitchy cheerleader girls who teased her for being a tomboy and ended up in detention were endless. If it had not been for her two best friends, you were sure that she would have gotten suspended or expelled for her behaviour. After all, that was a consequence to her non-conformity to high school stereotypes.

This poor boy must have been taken aback by her outburst. But he must have thought twice before he stared at her ass and sassed her out when she caught him. If anything, he had to learn his lesson the hard way. “Sorry...”

“Good. Now go stand on the other checkout line and don’t even dare to stare at me, you idiot.”

As you watched the boy walk away from her in defeat, you made your way over to the checkout line having given up on figuring out what the remainder of items on your mother’s list were. If you could get out of here before it got dark, you could stop by the bookstore on your way home and pick up some of your textbooks for the next semester.

It was the holidays after all. You did not have any plans to celebrate; not that you had anything to celebrate anyways. Diwali had been a month ago and it had been a decent celebration. While lighting fireworks and clay lamps was out of the question, you had spent it with your family by heading to the temple and sharing some homemade sweet treats among yourselves. You and your family did not celebrate Christmas, so you had been planning to study your ass off during the holidays.

With your three weeks off from school, you were planning on getting a head start on your readings for the following semester. The perks of being a pre-med student at an Ivy League school meant that you had a lot of pressure to excel academically. Often times this meant that you barely led a social life. Not that you minded, really. You were content with spending all of your free time being buried in textbooks and studying the last of your teenage years away.

A typical Tamil girl your parents had always wanted you to be, you had retained your innocence for as long as you could. At twenty-one years of age, you had never been kissed and never had a drop of alcohol enter your system. You still lived at home with your parents while your older brother had found himself moving out after he had left high school. It was just how things were and you had accepted it, not having a single rebellious bone in your body. As most first and second generation immigrants alike, you had found it hard to be the perfect Tamil daughter and a perfect American teenager. You had resorted to being the former, therefore sacrificing any prospects of close friendships or a social life in the process.

As you made your way over to the checkout line next to hers and began to unload your shopping cart, Natasha was quick to notice you as she began unloading her shopping cart as well. Recognizing you in an instant, she grinned widely. “Y/N?! ...Y/N Y/L/N?” She called out to you, her lips curling into a smile as she shook her head in disbelief.

You smiled at her as you laid out your groceries onto the belt. “Hi... Natasha.”

“What’s up, dude? Long time, huh? What have you been up to these days?”

“Nothing much...” You replied with a shrug. “Just... trying to get through pre-med, you know? Columbia’s been kicking my ass.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool.” She beamed, waiting for the cashier to ring up her items. “You’re still the same, Y/N. Even in high school, you were a straight A student. That is so amazing.”

“How about you, Natasha?” You asked her as the cashier began to ring up your items. “What have you been up to?”

“Just... arts, you know?” Natasha shrugged. “Studying has never been my thing, you know? Thank God, it’s the holidays though! I’m so glad I can finally relax and let loose.”

“Any plans for the holidays?” You asked her, curiously. As someone who has never had a proper holiday for yourself, you wondered what other people did during the holidays.

Perhaps, you wished to live vicariously through everyone else’s experiences. The only ever time you had a chance to travel were during the trips back home with your family. Other than that, you were pretty much stuck in Brooklyn.

“I’m heading to The Hamptons tomorrow...” She replied, excitedly. “We’re going to be skiing!”

“The Hamptons?” You asked, your eyes growing wide at her response. “That sounds quite fancy. What? Are you going with your family?”

“Oh no, I’m actually going with my friends. As a matter of fact, you know them too. Steve and Bucky, you remember them. Steven Rogers... as in my best friend? And Bucky, I mean, James Buchanan Barnes... you know him. He used to skip class all the time and get detention. You even had to tutor him for algebra once for extra credit or something, remember?”

Your eyes grew wide as you recalled her two best friends. You were slightly surprised that they had managed to keep in touch with her after all these years. But then again, the three of them had always been close. They were known as the inseparables around school, always hanging out with each other and slacking off in class together.

Often times, you had found yourself being jealous of their friendship. You wished you had that kind of bond with someone. You had always wanted a best friend but all you had was your older brother. You had been so lonely ever since you moved to New York.

For some odd reason, your parents had been against you befriending anyone who was not Tamilian. Apparently some bullshit about how anyone else would have corrupted your innocent mind and derail you from your path to being the perfect daughter you had always been. They had claimed that while they ‘trusted’ their daughter, they did not trust the society in which they had to raise their children. It was all bullshit.

Truth be told, your parents really had ruined your chance to make any friends at all. As much as you let your social anxiety get the worst of you, you had to blame them for the role they had played in your lack of a social life.

“Oh... right.” You reached into your purse to pull out the cash that your mother had given you, handing it over to the cashier and taking back your change.

As you grabbed your bagged groceries, Natasha had paid for her own things before walking over to you. “Hey, are you headed home? Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“What?” You looked up at her in surprise. “Oh no, Natasha... it’s fine. I can take the subway back.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m heading over to see my parents anyways and they live down the street from yours. I’ll drop you off on my way.” She offered with a smile. “Come on, dude!”

For how long could you keep avoiding the kind gestures from people and push them away? You had known Natasha since you had first arrived in New York and you knew that you could trust her, even if your own parents would be against that. Thanks to her short hair, tattoos and piercings that made her seem like bad news according to their judgemental eyes. But at this point, you could care less about what your mother would think about you accepting a ride from Nat. “Fine...” You gave in, struggling to carry your groceries.

“Here, I got it.” Taking one of the bags from you, she began walking out of the store with you in toe. “So, what are your plans for the holidays, huh?”

“Not much, really...” You replied with a shrug. “Just getting ready for the next semester, I guess.”

Nat stopped in her tracks before turning around to face you, her jaw dropping slightly at your response. “What the fuck, Y/N? You really need to give yourself a break. You need to go and do something fun.”

A part of you knew that she was right about that. But truth be told, you did not know how to have fun. For the longest time, your idea of fun had been burying yourself in school. Studying had been fun to you until it became the thing that you always did. Not to mention your lack of a social life ever since you were a kid. After all, you had never even been to a sleepover. Now a legal adult, you had never been to a party. Never been kissed and never gotten drunk. You lived quite a boring life and you did not know how to fix that. “I don’t know, man... I never really did anything fun during the holidays. I just studied... a lot.”

Letting out a sigh of disbelief, she turned around to walk over to her car. “I’ll tell you what...” She unlocked her car before opening the trunk. “Why don’t you come down to The Hamptons with me?” It had been a casual offer, perhaps even one that she had thought you would refuse in an instant, which you initially did. But Natasha knew you and knew how hard it had been for you to make friends in high school. She was finally making the effort to be your friend by offering to let you join her on her trip; she should have done something like this many years ago. But better late than never, right?

“What?!” You gasped, hearing her offer. If it had been that easy for you to pack up and leave to The Hamptons with a skater girl and two boys, you would have done it in a heartbeat. But you knew your parents and there was no way they would even allow you to go on this trip if you had even bothered to ask them in the first place. “Oh no, I can’t...”

“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be so much fun!” She grinned at you before loading the grocery bags in her trunk. “It’ll be just the four of us. It’s like you’re going to be on a trip with strangers. It’s just four school friends hanging out together for a week, catching up.”

“Oh no, Natasha... I shouldn’t be intruding.” You shook your head as you handed her the last of your bags. A part of you was longing to take her up on her offer, but you knew your parents very well and you worried about what they might think. They would never allow you to go off to all the way to The Hamptons with the kids they would have never approved of you to be friends with. Even if you were a pre-med student at Columbia University with a 4.0 GPA, no achievement would have made you worthy of such a trip when it came to their standards.

“You won’t be intruding at all.”

“Yeah, but...” You shook your head at her. “My parents would never allow it.” This had always been your excuse to turning down every invite to a party or a sleepover during high school. Your parents never allowed you to make friends with anyone, because that was just how it was.

“Well, then... we’ll sneak you out. You can’t let your parents dictate what you do and don’t do anymore. How old are you? Like... twenty? Twenty-one? You need to start making your own decisions at some point...” She was right. She knew exactly what she was talking about. “Y/N, you’re a good kid... you’re a good student, you’re doing good in school and working hard. You’ve got to give yourself a break. But there’s nothing wrong with being a little selfish sometimes.”

You sighed. “I... they won’t... I’ve never done anything rebellious my whole life, Natasha. And I don’t know how to... I can’t risk getting in trouble with my parents.”

“That’s why you have me, babe. I’ll sneak you out and have you back home in one piece. You have nothing to worry about. Just pack up your belongings tonight and meet me outside of my parents’ house at 3 in the morning. We’re driving up to The Hamptons ourselves.” She told you. “You don’t even have to pay for the gas. Just bring yourself enough pocket money to rent some ski gear and spend on booze or whatever... and we can spend the whole week skiing.”

“Natasha...” You bit down on your bottom lip. “I can’t...”

“For old time’s sake...”

“I need to think about it.” You admitted.

“Fine... I’ll wait for you until 3:30. If you don’t show up, you’ll see me drive past yours from your bedroom window.” She told you with a playful eye roll. “It’s your loss, Y/N.”

When Natasha had dropped you home that evening, you found yourself locked up in your bedroom for the remainder of the night. You paced back and forth, staring out your window to see her car parked down the street in front of her parents’ house. You had a few hours to contemplate taking her up on her offer. It was either spending another dreadful holiday drowning in your anatomy textbook or skiing with her and her friends. You finally had a chance at making friends of your own and it looked too good to pass up. But the thought of being caught by your parents terrified you, for the punishment would be a harsh one regardless of your academic achievements that should seem to balance it out.

So you did the best thing you could in your search for clarity and told your brother of this offer right away. While being of the male gender had certainly given him more privilege within the family, he knew that his freedom to do whatever he wanted was not something he could take for granted. He understood that as privileged as he was for the way your parents had been lenient on him, you were held to a higher moral standard than he was. Truth be told, he hated that and when it came to advocating for you and what you wanted, he always took your side when arguing with your parents. He was a true ally and the only real best friend you had so far. You could trust him.

“I’ll sneak you out.” Arjun offered in an instant.

Your jaw dropped as you heard his offer. “What?! Anna... are you insane? Amma and Appa would kill me they found out that I left!”

“Illa di, listen to me for a sec. I’m on your side here. Sometimes, you have to be rebellious and go out and get what you want.” He advised. “You’ve been too much of a goody-two-shoes to be treated like shit. I say you take the chance and get the hell out of here for a week.”

“Easy for you to say...” You mumbled as you rolled your eyes at him. “You don’t even live here anymore. But I do... and I don’t want to deal with all this crap because when I get back from this trip, you’ll be gone back to Harvard and I’m the one who’s stuck here.”

Your brother thought for a moment. “I’ll give them an ultimatum.” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “If they give you crap for going on this trip, then I’ll drop out of Harvard and flip burgers for a living. Trust me, Amma wouldn’t want that.”

“Anna... no, seriously... no!” You shook your head. “You’re being so dramatic right now and there’s no need for that. I’m not going.”

“Hey... po, di. If you don’t want to go for yourself, enakkaga po. Do this for me, please, di?” He told you with a pout. “Go out there and make some friends. You deserve it.”

You bit down on your bottom lip before sighing. “I’m terrified... but... I also want to go.”

“Then go. Go to the Hamptons... go make some friends. I don’t want you to end up friendless when I go off, get married and have my own family one day.” He admitted, chuckling softly. “You’ve been alone for so long, di kannamma. Go enjoy yourself while you’re young. You deserve it.”

You nodded as you pulled him into a hug. “You’re too good to me. Thank you, da Anna. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Hugging you back tightly, he sighed in contentment. “Anything for my kannamma.” He laughed as he held you close. The two of you shared a close bond and it was frankly because you were each other’s best friend. He would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat, so it was no surprise that he was willing to face your parents for your sake. “Now go up to your room, pack up your things and wait. I’ll come and get you when it’s time and we can climb out my bedroom window, sariya?”

You laughed softly and nodded, pulling back from the hug. “Sari...”

And with that, you had snuck up to your bedroom and managed to back yourself a suitcase full of your belongings. You were only going to be there for a week so there was not much to pack. But you were also cautious of how much you packed anyways, considering that you would need to launch this suitcase of yours off of the roof before you managed to sneak out your brother’s bedroom window. The last thing you wanted was for your parents to wake up from the commotion and catch you red-handed. You did not need this attempt at going on a holiday trip to come to an end before it had even started.

When the time came, your brother had helped you climb out through his bedroom window and threw your suitcase onto the sidewalk. Once he climbed down the roof, he helped you down and the two of you sprinted down the street towards the Romanoff Residence.

“Nat!” You called out to the redhead as you reached her parents’ house, your brother following after you with your suitcase.

“Y/N, you made it!” Natasha grinned as she ran up to you, tackling you with a triumphant hug.

You were taken aback by her embrace but you returned it anyways, your heart still beating right out of your chest from the adrenaline rush that came with sneaking out of your house and running down the street. “Yeah, I... I did.” You admitted, laughing softly. You were glad that you had not backed out of this ordeal, thanks to your supportive older brother who wanted nothing more than for you to be happy.

Arjun watched as the two of you pulled back from the hug. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Arjun.” She bowed her head at your brother. “Good to see you. Thanks for bringing her over.”

“Don’t mention it.” He winked at her before turning over to you. “You two should get going.”

You nodded as you pulled your brother into a tight hug. “Thank you... for being the best big brother I could ever ask for.” Your eyes glazed over as you realized how much trouble he was going to be in for the part he played in your disappearance for a week. But you were grateful that he had been there for you. “I love you, da Anna.”

“I love you too, di kannamma.” He hugged you tightly. “Have fun, okay? You deserve it.”

Natasha stood by as she watched the two of you say goodbye to each other. A part of her found it quite warming that the two of you had such a close bond. But unbeknownst to her, she had also admired how genuine and attractive Arjun really was. But that was a story for another time.

Once your brother had returned home, you and Natasha climbed into her car and she began driving towards Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ loft apartment. After all, this entire trip had been planned by the formerly chubby-cheeked and crooked-toothed boy whom you used to tutor. Hopefully, he would not mind that his little excursion had been crashed by his high school class’s resident ‘scholar’.

Present Day...

You tossed and turned in bed as you struggled to fall asleep, snuggling up to your pillow a you pulled the duvet over your shivering body. Despite the fact that you had slept in this bed for years, you had a hard time sleeping in it now. It was as though a part of you had forgotten how it felt to be home, which was partly your fault. After all, it had been your choice to leave home after you had graduated from Columbia. Your search for even the slightest of freedom had been satisfied, but coming home had always been a pain in the ass. You could not sleep.

You sat up in your bed as you let out a sigh of exhaustion, leaning your back against the headboard as you looked around your dimly lit childhood bedroom. Letting out a yawn, you reached over to grab your phone from the nightstand to check your notifications, hoping to see some missed call or text message from work so that you could have an excuse to leave the house in the middle of the night, this time through the front door rather than your brother’s bedroom window.

But you had been disappointed to find no messages from the hospital, meaning that you had no choice but to force yourself to go back to bed. Before you could lie back down though, you heard a slight knock on your door. “Kannamma?” Your brother said softly as he knocked. “Thoongittiya, di?”

“No... I can never fucking sleep in this house anymore.” You groaned as you climbed out of bed and made your way over to open the door. “Anna? What the hell are you two doing up at this hour?” You noticed that he was dressed in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt, a half-asleep Natasha standing behind him. “You were on call tonight?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I was... I just got called in. You think you could keep your Anni some company while I’m gone?” He asked you with a chuckle. “She likes you more than me.”

You nodded, giggling slightly as you yawned. “Sure, I guess...” You moved out of the way so that Natasha could enter your room and you let her hug you from behind. “I think she loves me, actually. She loves me more than you.”

“Yeah, keep saying that to yourself.” He mocked you with a playful eye roll before turning over to his future wife. “I’ll see you in the morning, Nat.”

“Drive safe, baby.”

“Bye, da.”You called out to him as he walked away.

Natasha chuckled as she made her way over to your bed and lay down. “I can never get used to this.” She admitted as she climbed under the blanket and stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

You closed the door behind you before walking over to your bed. “You know he doesn’t like working nights. He just has no choice in that matter. He’s trying to get it all sorted out, you know. Hopefully, he can open his own practice at some point.” You admitted. “I on the other hand, I love working nights. I love that I don’t have anyone to go home to, unlike my Anna. Hell, it feels strange not working tonight. I can’t even fucking sleep right now.”

She turned over to face you. “You do work a lot so I guess being single is convenient for you.” She agreed. “But do you ever see yourself... actually having someone to go home to? Getting married and having kids of your own?”

You let out a chuckle before shaking your head. “Did you? Did you ever think you’d be getting married... to anyone, let alone my brother?”

“No, I didn’t... but fate works in weird ways, doesn’t it? It brought you and I together and then... it brought your brother and I together.” Natasha reminded, sighing as she hugged you gently.

“You ever wonder what would have happened if we had never run into each other at the grocery store that day?” You asked her, curiously.

“We wouldn’t be best friends.” She admitted, laughing. “We wouldn’t be family. I think we have Arjun to thank for that night.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I guess... if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be best friends.” And you wouldn’t have fallen in love with Bucky Barnes either.

12 years ago...

You covered your ears with your hands as Natasha honked one more time, hopefully the last time she would do so within the last ten minutes. The sound of the never-ending honking must had woken up the entire neighborhood by now, but unfortunately, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes happened to be heavy sleepers.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” She called out as she rolled down the window. “Steve, Bucky, I swear to fucking God if you don’t get your asses down here in two fucking minutes, I’m leaving without you!” She called out towards the second floor window of the building you had been parked in front of.

Despite the fact that it was way too early in the morning to be causing a scene in the middle of the street, it seemed as though the redhead did not give a shit about any of that. Her friends were both running late and she was certainly not happy about being the only one who had any sense of punctuality between the three of them.

After all, it had been Bucky Barnes’ idea that they drive all the way to The Hamptons at the ass crack of dawn. The least she would have hoped was for the two of them to be ready and waiting for her to arrive. But instead they had both been sleeping on their asses until she pulled up and honked for them to come out. With her lack of sleep causing her to be irritated, she was in no mood to be driving as it was and the boys being late was not helping at all.

It was another few minutes and constant honking before the two boys came running out of their apartment building, their duffel bags and ski gear in hand.

“Jesus Christ, Nat! You probably woke up the entire neighborhood!” Steve Rogers yelled at his friend as he loaded his belongings onto the trunk, followed by Bucky’s.

Bucky Barnes ran his hand through his wet hair that had now frosted up in the cold as he got into the car, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the uninvited guest in the backseat. He looked just the same as he did three years ago, the only difference being that he had chopped off his long locks for a shorter hair do. It seemed fitting for the young adult look that he had been trying to pull off lately.

But he still had his high school charm on him, the one that you could not get away from no matter how hard he tried. “Hey... you?!” He looked over at you with a confused expression on his face, noticing that you looked so familiar to him yet he could not place how he had known you. He was just as forgetful as you remembered him to be. “Uh... do I know you from somewhere?”

You raised your eyebrow at him slightly. “You... do???” You swallowed your own drool as you caught yourself staring at him and looked away for a moment, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as you avoided his eye contact.

“Has your pea brain really forgotten high school that fast, Barnes?” Natasha snickered from the driver’s seat as Steve got in the car, buckling up as he turned around to notice you sitting behind him.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He gave you a look of surprise, but smiled genuinely happy to see you. “Long time.”

“Hi Steve.” You smiled at him before waving slightly, your eyes darting back to the confused former classmate of yours who had finally managed to recognize you as his former algebra tutor. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your trip, by the way. Natasha invited me and I couldn’t say no.”

“Y/N?! Oh my God... Scholar Y/N, how could I forget these glasses?” Bucky laughed as he pulled you into a side hug. “It’s been so long, oh my God! How have you been, doll?”

You bit down your bottom lip as you felt yourself blush, slightly taken aback by his rather forward attempt for a reunion hug. “Uh... yeah, I... I’ve been alright.” You did not know what to say as you pushed your glasses up your nose, giggling slightly as you pulled back from him quickly but not as awkwardly as you had feared.

“Jeez, we used to flip a coin to see which one of us gets to sit next to you when we had exams.” Steve recalled with a chuckle as Natasha started the car.

“What? Why?”

“Because whoever won the toss and sat next to you was guaranteed to pass the exam!” Bucky replied, laughing as he shook his head. “You were such a nerd back then, doll.”

“I still am.” You admitted, proudly as you laughed and gave him a playful eye roll. “I take it you’re still skipping class and roaming the town with your camera?” You remembered that Bucky Barnes had a knack for photography, having been involved with the yearbook committee and the school newspaper for multiple years. You had worked closely with him when you had been the editor of the school newspaper during your senior year, so it was not as awkward being in the presence of these three. Thankfully, they were not absolute strangers to you.

“Yeah, I... I’ve been interning with a studio though. Photography is my calling.” He told you as he motioned towards his camera bag next to you. He never left the house without it and he was hoping to document as much of this trip as he possibly could. After all, this was going to be the last trip he was going to take with his friends and neither of them knew that yet.

“So, you still have no plans for going to college then?” You asked him. You remembered that Bucky had initially decided to take a gap year and go traveling after your class had graduated from high school. As Natasha had told you during your drive over to pick up the boys, it turned out that he had not managed to go back to school when he had returned from his trip to Italy.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip before letting out a sigh. “Not for now...” He told you with a shrug, but it was a partial lie. After all, he had received his acceptance letter for a Journalism and Media Degree in London earlier this month. But he had chosen not to break the news to his friends just yet.

“We’ve actually been saving up our money, Y/N. We’re going to open our own bar in Williamsburg and be business partners, isn’t that right, Buck?” Steve clarified.

He looked up at his best friend with a small smile, but did not nod his head. Unbeknownst to you, the reason behind his silence would eventually cause a drift between all of you by the time this trip came to an end.

Present Day...

When you and Natasha woke up the next morning, the two of you headed out to mail out the wedding invitations that the two of you had finished packing up the night before. Your best friend turned sister-in-law made it her mission to personally deliver Steve Rogers’ invitation to him, just to make sure that he knew that he had no choice but to attend the wedding. With his current financial situation though, the two of you were sure that he would do anything to avoid the wedding. But Nat was not going to have any of it.

You should not have been so surprise to have walked into an empty restaurant, but you could not help but feel slightly bad about how your friend’s business had taken the turn for the worst. You knew that this was not what Steve had signed up for when he had first purchased this restaurant with all of his savings, but he had kept it going for as long as he could.

Natasha blamed his recent increase in alcohol consumption for his failing business, but you knew that there was more to Steve’s pain that he had resorted to drinking as a coping mechanism. Perhaps, this intervention was a much needed one.

“Ladies...” Steve laughed as he walked out of the kitchen with a cold glass of whiskey in his hand. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Steve, it’s 10 am... what the fuck are you doing, getting drunk this early in the morning?! Give me that glass!” Natasha walked up to him and tried to take his glass from him, only to fail miserably.

“I’m a grown ass man, Nat. I can do whatever the fuck I want...” He muttered carelessly before downing his drink and setting down his glass. “Always goes down easy.”

“Steve...” You sighed as you walked up to him, your lips curling into a frown as you pulled him into a hug. “Steve, come on... I know the restaurant is in a lot of debt right now but drinking your ass off is not going to solve that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, doctor.” He chuckled as he hugged you back. “If I drink myself all the way to cirrhosis, then that’s my fucking choice.”

“I don’t like what I’m hearing, Rogers.” You admitted, shaking your head at his words. “You’re struggling, buddy. Just admit that you need help and we’re more than happy to throw in a little investment, just to get this place back up and running like it did when it first opened. We hate seeing you like this, you know?”

“No...” He shook his head as he sighed. “I can’t do that, Y/N. You guys... have your own lives and your own shit to worry about. Don’t... waste your time and energy being worried about me or my business.”

“But we are worried about you, you asshole.” Natasha admitted, joining in on the hug. “I’m getting married and I hate that my best friend is... fucking miserable. I hate to see you like this. If you won’t even let us pitch in to keep this place going, then at least stop drinking your days away. The last thing I want is for you to leave me for good like he did. I’ve lost one of you already the way that I did... I can’t lose another friend either.”

“Don’t bring him up, please. I don’t want to talk about him.”

You shook your head at Natasha before you sighed, rubbing Steve’s back as you bit back your tears. “Fine, we don’t have to talk about anything... or anyone. But we have a wedding to get ready for. So, can we at least focus on that for the next few weeks?”

“Fine.” Steve admitted, finally forcing himself to smile a genuine smile. “Anything for my two favorite ladies and you becoming family.”

#2kbollywood #aj writes #stay #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #marvel au #bucky barnes x desi!reader #desi au #bucky barnes desi au

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booksandgalore · 5 years

Text

Mirrors of Pride [Yandere!BTS]

Foreword:

Taehyung's company is enjoyable when he isn't contemplating about the different shades of black-and-white filters. Sure, he cares too much about the number of likes he has on social media.

And, yes, maybe you have to reject taking pictures of him everytime he hands you his phone, but true friends stay with each other no matter what. You just need to overlook his growing vanity, and ignore all the warning signs when he starts talking about someone non-existent.

Author’s Note:

It’s my first time posting (cross-posting) a story on Tumblr! Bear with me as I navigate how to link, edit my layout, etc. Though if you do have an tips and/or pointers on how I can make my blog look more appealing, haha, then I’ll take them. Do leave a comment if you enjoyed it!

The blueberry gelato you purchased was going to melt soon, but you couldn’t even taste it until Taehyung had some pictures of himself with your gelato and his. Currently, you had snapped over fifty pictures, in different angles, too, and you got out of your seat to take more. The sweltering heat made your baby hairs stick on your forehead and all over your cheeks.

”Okay,” you said, handing his phone back. “What do you think?”

You stood behind his chair as you watched him scroll through the photos one-by-one. Taehyung kept zooming in on his face, only to pinch his fingers back out and focus on a minuscule detail like a wrinkle on the right sleeve of his clothing.

“Can you take more on your phone? Maybe it’ll be different,” he requested, peering up from his device to look at you, his neck craned back.

You ran your fingers through your hair and felt the sweat of your scalp through your fingertips. Although you took a shower this morning, you were going to have to shower again later.

Breathing deeply, you brought your phone out of your back pocket and snapped a picture of him in this position. Taehyung immediately took a scoop of his strawberry gelato and held the spoon to his lips. You took a picture, and another when he closed his eyes but still had the uneaten gelato close to his lips.

Then, a drop fell onto his chin. It dribbled down. You were about to grab a tissue off of the table to give it to him until he mumbled that you should continue. You did as he asked. The sound of the camera shuttering was all you guys heard for the next three minutes as Taehyung continued posing in different positions.

“You’re welcome,” you said, plopping down onto your chair. You reached for your dessert and found that it was half liquid. You looked over at Taehyung’s gelato; it was in the same state as yours, and you sighed.

Opening up Instagram on your phone, you started to slouch. Posts about vacations in California, Rome, and Beijing filled your timeline. Or was it feed? You were confused by the verbiage ever since Facebook bought Instagram and honestly where was the FAFSA police when you needed them? These "broke" college students shouldn't be out there living it up. And why were they on vacation when you still had two weeks of spring semester left? Did they take their finals early? When you were done, you handed your phone to Taehyung, who took it eagerly.

“Appreciate it,” he said. After browsing through the photos you took of him, he placed your phone down on his lap as he smiled at you. “I mean it. Thank you.”

You observed the silver rings on his fingers as he tapped on the table in a seemingly rhythmic beat. The rings were pretty. Maybe you should copy some of his style.

“You’re going to Korea soon, right?” You leaned back against your chair and splayed out your legs. A trickle of sweat ran past your neck.

It was really hot outside, but Taehyung wore a dark blue dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and had a black t-shirt inside that was revealed when the first two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. He also wore black ripped jeans. Wasn’t it hotter when you wore darker colors? Beauty was pain, you guessed.

“Only for one month in July.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair as well. “Why? Are you going to miss me?”

“No,” You shook your head, “you’re going to miss me.”

At this, Taehyung laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling. “Get KakaoTalk so I can text you without getting charged there.”

”Why? So you can spam my phone with pictures of yourself? You already have a mirror.” You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Also, how can I get KakaoTalk if you have my phone?”

”You mean this?” Taehyung showed your device in his hand, but he made no attempt to give it back to you. “I can just figure out your password.” He was typing in a random combination of numbers until he unlocked your phone successfully.

Startled, you rose up from your seat as he shielded the phone away from you.

“Relax, I’m transferring the photos you took of me to my phone!” he said, huddling himself into a ball. The people around you stared at him briefly before chatting to themselves.

With the slit of your screen showing through the opening in his posture, you glanced down, realizing he was going through your Snapchat messages and replying back with a selfie of himself. How typical.

“Taehyung...” You grasped his shoulder. “I’m not getting Kakao if you’re being like this.” It was a fake threat, but he didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you wanted him to stop because Hoseok was in your contacts and you knew Taehyung wasn’t fond of his step-brother. If Taehyung found out, when he already confessed these deep feelings of disdain about Hoseok to you, then you weren’t sure what he would do. He had a vanity problem already, and some slight possessive attachment in his friendship with you.

However, Taehyung continued mass replying to your friends.

”Taehyung,” you tried again, shaking his shoulder roughly. He didn’t budge. “Alright, I guess I’m gonna get your phone.”

He straightened up and stared at you. “I don’t have anything to hide, (Name). You know me. Do you have something you want to hide?”

“No.” You swore your heart skipped a beat when the lie rolled out your tongue.

“Then we’ll look at my phone together. It’s only fair, right?” There were moments where Taehyung sounded peculiar, and this was one of them. Was it something in his tone, or was it this… aura that he emitted? Either one led you–dare you spoke of it lest you became a bad friend who misinterpreted things and blew them out of proportion–to be cautious of him.

”Here.” Swiping his phone off the table, Taehyung placed it on your palm. ”The password is two, five, six, eight.” He wasn’t taking his hand away from yours, so you inputted with your free hand the code he gave you. The rings on his fingers provided a cool sensation on your skin despite the ongoing heat from the sun.

“You can check my texts," Taehyung suggested. "You can read through them."

You bit the inside of your cheek while you hesitantly tapped on his conversation with Taeyong, a mutual friend. There were Korean characters you couldn't decipher. The words were too advanced, and you only learned the language when Hoseok taught you sporadically. However, you did catch onto these English memes Taehyung and Taeyong shared with each other. You thought you were invading Taeyong's privacy somewhat as Taehyung encouraged you to keep scrolling.

"See, (Name)?" His eyes bore into your own. "I've got nothing to hide."

"Yeah, me too," you blurted back, letting him keep his phone and yours for now. You returned back to your seat.

Friends need to accept all the aspects that come with a person whether good or bad, you reminded yourself of this as Taehyung scrutinized the photos in your camera roll, eyes trained on his appearance and whatever it meant to him as he explored the saturations and color schemes he could use.

You observed your friend for a few more minutes before redirecting your thoughts to the final exams coming up. The stress to think about the exams rather than on the behavior of your friend had eased your mind considerably. Soon, you began to daydream off-topic about fast cars and towering mansions as Taehyung continued to edit his pictures.

Smiling unconsciously, you then remembered how you were a bit vain yourself. You had three thousand, one-hundred-seventy-five dollars and thirty cents to your name before. The rest of the money was in your latest Fila shoes, and in the latest iPad Pro that you cradled to sleep every night. When your three thousand, one-hundred-seventy-five dollars and thirty cents to your name dropped to a staggering fifty-dollars, you had promised for a new year, new you, and you made a resolution to curb your materialistic tendencies in the middle of sweet old July of last year.

“I’m going to change,” you declared to yourself, browsing through self-improvement articles online. You had another tab open, but you swore on your mother’s grave that you were just living vicariously through a YouTuber’s shopping haul and nothing more.

“I’m going to change,” you said to Taeyong and Jimin, your two closest friends, as you all painted random animals on a canvas. Hoping it will restrain the temptations of eating out and watching movies, you tried to love your newest hobby.

But people didn't change easily.

After all, we make money to enjoy money, you would say as you received your paycheck, the thickness of the envelope sending a familiar rush of adrenaline through the palms of your hands.

Soon summer break had ended and you were left daydreaming in your classes about the salary you'd get from becoming a doctor. You’ll have a stable job and a stable life, your mother would remind you in the living room every so often. You would doodle on the edges of your notes and wish that time could past by faster because you were stuck in a world where you were just you and the you then needed to step up from a measly five hundred bucks. Your fingers couldn't sprint against the piano keys as well as Jill, nor could you code websites in your free-time like Mr. Full-Ride classmate Jaehyun, but you did have money and it was what kept you going.

Money was entertainment. Money was activities. Money was the awe-struck gaze your parents looked at you with when you paid for the restaurant bill at a family outing. Money was whatever you wanted it to be, and it was breathtaking, inspiring, motivating, and, damn, your eyes were bleeding green, huh?

“How do you do it?” you had asked. “How are you so happy the majority of the time?”

“I’ll show you how,” Taehyung replied, one hand holding the strap of his backpack. He took out a hand-held mirror from the first zipper and gave it to you. “You have to love yourself.“

"And how do I do this...loving myself thing?”

“(Name), it’s simple.” He sighed, leaning closer to you to observe himself through his own mirror, a light red tint on his cheeks. “You think to yourself, you are everything you ever wanted.” Almost reluctantly, he peered up from the mirror to look at you, but you felt as if he never truly looked away, as if he was still tracing the contours of his nose and the outlines of his eyes, his lips, through the glare of the glasses perched on your nose.

“Beauty is on the inside.” He sighed again, placing a hand over his chest. “But it can also be made.”

You noticed the slight pout on his lips as he stashed the mirror away. He had never changed since high school. Always staring at himself as he walked past anything reflective, anything that resembled him, and you––

You had been snapped out of your memory when Taehyung voiced out a question.

"Should we go now? We have class tomorrow with Professor Smith at nine in the morning."

"Hm?" You blinked. "Ah, yeah, we should."

You threw your gelato in the trash and bidded a goodbye, heading off to your home. Developing a friendship with Taehyung was a journey, to say the least.

[next chapter]

#yandere bts #taehyung #v #yandere taehyung #yandere kpop #bts #bangtan #yandere #bts taehyung #am I doing this Tumblr posting right #pls like and reblog to show support

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kit-blackthorn · 5 years

Text

HADES AND PERSEPHONE Chain of Gold AU - James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs

James Herondale never wanted to be the God of the dead. Technically, he was god of the Underworld, with his right hand man Thanatos god of the dead, but no one cared about semantics.

What with James’ apparent ghastly appearance and pale skin, no one made the mistake of assuming him a living creature. No one person on the sunny side of the world had ambrosial eyes like James. No satyr, Demi-god, or even nymph had irises the color of his. More than living creatures feared his name, they feared his eyes more.

Some people, however, did not mind James’ eyes. His friend Matthew, god of sunlight and poetry, compared them to the first rays of daylight that sparks off the edge of his sun chariot. James has blushed. He did not get compliments often, especially by beings with sun-kissed skin.

He does not understand why the Olympians fear him similar to that of a mortal. After all, gods are immortal. Why should they fear appearing death?

It does not due well for James to focus on this. It’s been four thousand years, he should be over it by now.

James sits upon his throne of obsidian, pondering many things he should not think about lest he fall into a hole of despair. If that abyss could even be darker than hell itself.

Many of James’ subjects wander around, dusting off his ceiling long paintings of various things found above ground. Some of them believe James is mocking them by hanging up such photos of the world they are no longer part of, but that’s not why James do it.

James loves paintings of the sea, of sunflowers and dandelions and trees with weeping leaves. It’d been nearly a thousand years since James had been on the sunny side of things. He dared never take a step, as his yearning would cause such a fulfillment that he would no longer return to his domain.

“You should just do it.” Thanatos said, startling James.

Thanatos - or rather Jesse as he liked to be called - arched a Stygian brow. His green eyes were similar to the emeralds that adorned James’ fanciful palace ceiling.

“You spoke out loud,” Jesse supplied.

“Oh,” James said. “Well why do you think I should go above ground?”

Jesse shrugged. “You have nothing to loose. Besides, you are getting pale, my lord.”

James rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if I get sunburned I shall have Matthew run over you with his Chariot.”

James stood, his royal robes falling around his long legs. The royal black velvet swished against the marble floor. Slowly, he reached inside and took out the books he kept in the inside pockets, setting them along the arms of his throne.

Jesse arched another brow, but said nothing else. Even he knew James lived vicariously through book characters. Book characters that could live in sunlight, who could ride magnificent beasts and marry their loves without the fear of being feared. Sometimes, James wished he could carve out the godly part of himself and become more... normal. Living.

It did not take long for James to walk up to the land of the living. He past his three-headed dog Cerebus and the Elysian Fields where the heroes James read about remained.

Sunlight was a funny thing to the god of the underworld.

Wind with a hint of cherries and apples blew past James, making him scrunch up his nose. He was used to pomegranates, really.

James appeared to have landed, or rather found himself, in a meadow filled with narcissus and chrysanthemums. Their vivid colors burst against the solid green Earth. No jewel could entertain their color.

James looked up, watching as sunlight shone through the leaves, dimpling on his skin giving him spots.

James took a deep breath. Why was he here again? It was not like he had someone to meet? Maybe Matthew-

James’ thoughts stopped short when he heard a voice. A feminine voice as soft as the summer wind.

James slowly turned towards it, treading lightly on the branches that littered the ground.

On a patch of grass in the middle of the meadow was a girl. A girl wearing a summer sky blue dress adorned with pink flowers at the neckline and hemline. Her skin was dark against the pastel dress, sun kissed mixed with cinnamon. Her hair was a vibrant red, dark as a ruby. She laid on the ground with a narcissus in her hand. At her side was a gleaming gold sword, one of which she traced absent mindedly with her free fingers.

“Marriage?” She said to the flower. “Marriage to a nymph I need not know?” Disgust warmed her words.

“Who does my mother think she is?” The girl asked. “Sona, goddess of flowers and fruit and all that, I get it. But this? Marriage? I do not believe it is in her power to ask me that, not even as my mother.”

“I will not marry.” She said and raised her sword. The gleaming weapon cast sunlight spots along the ground and her skin. “Lest I shall part with you.”

“I am the goddess of spring time. I do as I please.” She said again, as though she were trying to convince herself. “Not even Alastair backed me up!” She told the sword. “He just nodded and scolded me for opposing mother. They are too alike, my mother and brother.”

She sighed and lower her sword to her chest, letting the blade rest upon her sternum. “I shall only marry who I love, but what can I do when who I love does not love me?”

“Kill them.”

The girl started and sat up, whirling to look at James. Her eyes widened and her pink mouth dropped.

He hasn’t meant to say that. But as someone with first hand experience to heart break, he could not stop his resurfacing feelings. Although he no longer loved Grace, the woman who never loved him anyway, the feelings still burned like salt that would never leave a wound.

“James?” The girl asked.

James blinked. “You recognize me?” Although he did not look on part with a living creature, she shouldn’t have been able to tell so soon and so far away.

“Of course I do,” She said and then frowned. “Do you not know me?”

James opened his mouth but nothing came out. He thought over the hundreds of thousands of faces he’d seen during his existence, but he can’t remember hers. He would remember hers.

The girl crossed her arms and looked away from James, obviously upset. “Cordelia.” She snapped, her ruby red hair blowing in the breeze.

“Right,” James said realizing. “Yona’s daughter. You specialize in...flowers.”

Cordelia looked offended. “Flowers keep this world alive, you know that? Obviously you don’t, God-of-Death.” She bit her lip but did not apologize.

James was astounded. Many did not say sentences to him. Much less an insult.

“Have we met before?” James asked, wondering what he did to receive such vehemence.

Cordelia squeaked. “Yes! Numerous times in Mount Olympus!”

James needed to change the topic. “Who are you to marry?” James asked, daring to step closer.

Cordelia blushed, her cheeks as red as her hair. James wanted to touch her hair, see if it was as warm as the day itself.

“Someone I do not even know.”

“What about the on you’re in love with?” James asked. “Why not him or her?”

Cordelia watched him for a long moment with an unreadable expression. James thought perhaps she is searching his secret worthiness.

“Doesn’t matter.” Cordelia said at last. “Why, I bet they don’t even know my name.”

James nodded, trying to feel sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sure they would like you if they knew you.”

Cordelia scowled at him. Surprising, her scowl was as pretty as her smile.

She sighed. “It matters not. My mother will force me to marry since I cannot obtain a lover myself.”

“You could marry me.” James said before he even realized her could say such words. But he had been too busy looking at the flowers that adorned her dress, at the golden sword laid beside her like a hero fallen on the Earth.

Cordelia’s eyes were wide. “Truly?” She asked in disbelief. “Why would you...”

“I do not know.” James said. “But you have spoken to me longer than anyone has in over a century, and you are the most beautiful living thing I have ever seen.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t even remember my name.”

James sucked in a breath. “To be fair, Yona never allows me anywhere near her so out of that avoidance I must have mistakenly avoided you.”

Cordelia seemed to deem this answer good enough and stood. She was almost as tall as James, but much more graceful. She strode up to him and looked him in the eyes without flinching. Suddenly, she spun around him and laced her arm through his.

“I accept your proposal.” She said, trying to feigh non-chalance. “Take me to your palace.”

James heart sped up on the verge of hope. “Will you be alright in the underworld? With no sunlight?”

Cordelia thought for a moment before shrugging. “We can work something out.” She smiled. “Do you have food down there? I am famished.”

James, understanding the vow Cordelia had made, smiled. “I believe there to be the most delicious pomegranates.”

#based off an edit i saw #hope ya like it #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #chain of gold #the last hours #jordelia #greek mythology #hades and persephone

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