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feelbokkie · 5 months

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One Last Dance | Chapter 18

pairing: Minho x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, major character death (I am apologizing now), friends to lovers, soul mates, first love, roommates

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing (what’s new), suggestive if you squint, mention of food and eating

summary: Childhood best friends Lee Minho and L/n Y/n are in their final year of university. While both of them are in love with each other, the only thing keeping them apart is Minho’s fear of change. As both dancers prepare for their lives after college, will Minho finally let fear rule him and his emotions or will he finally gain courage before he loses Y/n forever?

word count: 2,448

screenshot count: 5

taglist: closed!

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“What if—”

“Y/n, we’re walking to your parents’ front door. We don’t have enough time for the what-if game anymore.” Minho sighs.

His hands are full, carrying a box of pastries from a bakery in Seoul that the two of you brought the last time you visited your parents. Dangling from his left elbow is a bag holding a bottle of wine while his right arm carries a basket of strawberries that the two of you picked during your date yesterday. If he had it his way, he’d also be carrying both sets of flowers that you’re holding. You offered to at least hold the wine but Minho refused.

“What if I sulk for the rest of the day?” You pout your lips.

“You’re going to sulk because I’m not letting you be irrational about telling our parents we’re moving?” He scoffs, amused by your reaction.

“Hey, you were pouty for four full days last week because I didn’t kiss you the second I woke up.”

“It’s principle! Couples wake up, they kiss. End of story.”

“I’m so sorry,” the two of you reach the front door. You ring the doorbell and wait. “Next time I’ll kiss you with my morning breath. 'Kay?"

"I sleep next to you every night so--"

"Excuse me?"

"Wait I didn't mean it like that--"

"There you two are!" You're mother opens the front door with a huge grin on her face.

Your mother is wearing the yellow sundress you bought her from your trip to Japan this summer. How fitting, it's almost like a cosmic sign from the universe that everything is going to be alright.

"Hi mom," You grin back, being the first to hug her. Once you let go, you hand her one of the bouquets.

"You two didn't have to bring anything. Jagia! Come help Minho bring in some things!" Your mother calls for your dad. No doubt he's in his study working on one of his models.

"I got it, auntie." Minho smiles sweetly before kissing your mother on the cheek and heading straight to the kitchen. You follow behind, ready to help unload everything.

Being home after moving out four years ago always feels weird. Yes, it's your childhood home. Yes, every nook and cranny holds some sort of lingering memory, like the rug you tripped on and broke your arm while you were chasing Minho. Or the window that you would sneak in and out of back in high school. But that's all they are, memories. Distant yet familiar.

"Y/n, can you put these in a vase for me?" Your mom asks when the three of you enter the kitchen.

"Sure," You take the flowers back from your mom.

Your mom leaves the kitchen, letting you and Minho put everything away, and probably to get your dad to come out and greet you. You set the flowers down and help Minho unload the things he’s carrying. While Minho goes to wash some of the strawberries, you go to look for the vases and some serving trays. It isn’t hard, your mother has kept the kitchen the same way it’s always been.

“Did you taste any of the strawberries?” Minho asks, setting aside some of the berries as he washes them.

“I brought some over to the kids because Lix wanted to make chocolate-covered strawberries. And by the time he finished, those vultures ate them all. When I got back you had cooked dinner and I forgot.” You sigh.

“Here,” Minho sticks out his arm, holding a strawberry for you.

You walk over to him, setting the serving bowl down next to the freshly washed strawberries. You take a bite of the one in his hand, not even bothering to take it from him. He feeds you so often that taking food from him feels foreign whereas eating directly from his hand doesn’t.

“Mm!” You smile as the sweet juice from the strawberry hits your tongue. You can only imagine how good they tasted yesterday with chocolate.

“Sweet?” He asks as he finishes washing the last of the berries, not even looking up at you.

You nod, not wanting to talk with your mouth full. Minho presses his lips together as he shuts the water off. His eyes scan your face for a second, thinking about something before he quickly leans in. He gently presses his lips into yours, swiping his tongue on your bottom lip. Not like he’s trying to gain entrance into your mouth, but like he’s…tasting your lips? You slightly part your lips and try to pull away in protest, but Minho is fast. His tongue quickly enters and exits your mouth before you can even process what’s happening. He pulls away, leaving your mouth strangely empty. All your blood rushes to your face.

“Hm,” Minho chews something, “that is sweet.”

“You are fucking disgusting. There are strawberries right next to you.” Your jaw hangs open in disbelief.

“If I’m so disgusting, why is your face red?” He smirks, swallowing your stolen strawberry.

“I…That’s…B—because…We are at my parents' house!”

“I’m sure this kitchen has seen worse,” He laughs.

“Go home,” You mutter, going back to fixing the flowers. You put cold water into both vases. You set the flowers for Minho’s mom in one vase, untouched, while you mentally try to figure out how you should arrange the ones for your mother.

“I’m already there,” Minho says softly.

“I know my parents treat you like a son but this is my house.” You pull out one of the pairs of scissors you know your mother has in the kitchen and begin freeing the flowers from their packaging.

“God, you’re so dense sometimes, I can’t flirt with you—“ Minho groans under his breath, “I mean, I don’t have to go home because I’m already right next to you.”

You freeze mid-snip, nearly beheading a peony. It’s like your brain suddenly stopped working. You love that Minho is no longer holding back when it comes to his feelings for you, but sometimes he’ll say or do something that just makes Y/n.exe stop working.

“You’re not allowed to do something hot and then say something sweet like two minutes later!”

“Which is it? Am I hot or disgusting?” He comes up next to you, placing the rest of the strawberries in the bowl.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” You mumble, quickly finishing up with the flowers and washing your hands so you can take care of the pastries.

“I thought you liked pain,” He whispers in your ears. A chill runs down your spine.

“Why are you teasing me? Here? Now?” You turn around, to face Minho.

“Because teasing you is fun,” He places the bowl behind you, “And I’m trying to get you to relax a bit. You’re too stressed out about this.”

“Yeah but—“ Minho quickly cups your face and pecks you on the lips to shut you up.

“No more ‘buts’ or ‘what-ifs’ or anything else that’s going to make you spiral.”

“I’m not spiraling. If I was spiraling I would just call the company and tell them that we should pretend the job offer never happened.”

“Really?” Minho thumbs stroke your cheeks. “Do you really want to bring that up right now?”

“It’s my job to humble you,” You smile innocently.

"I think you're just trying to change the subject."

"Why would I change the subject?"

"Because you're scared."

"I'm not scared. I'm not the one here who gets scared."

"Uh huh, sure jagia. Just know, you don't have to be scared--or "not" scared. I'm right here, and always will be."

"Not that I get scared or anything, but you can't always physically be there with me." You poke his sides.

"Sure I can," He lets go of your face and reaches down into his shirt, pulling out his half of the scallop necklace. He touches your half, which is dangling around your neck, "As long as you have this, know I'm always there. Right next to you, okay?"

Minho presses one more kiss on your forehead, which somehow comforts you in a way you didn't know you needed. Just as he pulls away, his eyes shift behind you and his face turns red.

"What is it?" You turn around to see both of your moms standing at the doorway with big grins on their faces.

"I knew it! Hey! The two of you owe us $50 each now." Your mother shouts as she leaves the room, probably to go talk to your fathers.

"Mom," Minho's voice shrinks, you can feel the heat radiate off of him in embarrassment. You'd be embarrassed two if it wasn't so funny to watch him squirm.

"Hi, auntie." You walk away from Minho and walk over to his mom, giving her a big hug.

"Y/n, my sweet girl." She smiles hugging you back. When you two let go, you turn around to face Minho, who is blinking in confusion and horror. All that teasing spirit has evaporated from his body.

***

"You two are so cute, you remind me of you and your father when we first started dating. Isn't that right?" Your mother hums during lunch.

She's referring to the fact that you and Minho have been quietly feeding each other while engaging in conversation with your parents. You even helped each other peel perilla leaves without asking. Or maybe she's referring to the fact that Minho is sitting on the side of your non-dominant hand so he can hold it while you eat, a habit of his that he's been taking advantage of since you two started dating officially.

"We should take a picture of all six of us before they leave today. One big couple photo. They can use it for their wedding one day." Minho's mom adds.

"Mom, we're not getting married yet." You're not sure why, but your heart skips a beat. Yet.

"I said one day," She pouts.

"Y/n," Your father finally says, clearing his throat. "Does this mean you two have been looking for a place down here instead of moving home?"

"Well actually--"

"Ah, leave them alone. They've already lived together for four years. And this generation does things differently." Your mother waves him off.

"I didn't say anything like. I was just asking my daughter a question."

"Mom, dad,"

"If you two want, Mr. Kang down the street moved out to be closer to his grandchildren. His house is still on the market. We can help you two with a down payment." Minho's dad adds.

"That's a really nice offer but--"

"They're not going to want to live near us, they're going to want their own space." Minho's mom chimes.

You press your lips together, the conversation now evolving into something larger than it should. Minho squeezes your hand in comfort. He clears his throat loudly, causing your parents to quiet down.

"Actually," Minho sets down his chopsticks and places his now free hand on his knee. "That's one of the things we came here to talk to you about."

Minho turns to you, nudging your side to let you speak. You swallow the bit of food you still have in your mouth and set your chopsticks down as well. Ten sets of eyes stare at you, waiting for you to speak. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

"We kind of already found a place...in Japan. Tokyo to be specific. And then we're going to be looking for a place in Niigata."

"You're moving to Japan?" Your mother asks.

"I thought you two were planning to move back here and work at your dance studio?" Minho's father asks.

"We are and we were planning on moving back here but I got a spot at the Noism dance company. I told Minho that he didn't have to come but he's stubborn." You explain.

"Tokyo and then Niigata?" This time your father asks.

"I have a two-month training period and that's in Tokyo but the company is based in Niigata so we're going to move there afterward and be pretty much permanently while I do my residency term. Where we move after depends on if I get to move to the travel division later."

Minho gives your cool, clammy hands a reassuring squeeze. You two talked long and thought hard about this. You even tried to convince Minho to stay with his parents during your training period and to move down once you two had a more permanent home but he said that he wants to support you every step of the way. When he speaks to you like that, how are you supposed to turn him away?

Your parents are quiet. The four of them are silently communicating with each other with their eyes. You can feel your heart in your throat. You're not sure why you're scared, you're an adult it's not like they can forbid you from going. Maybe it's the thought of leaving home for good. At least you have the option to come home every weekend when you live twenty-ish minutes away from your childhood home. And then there is the ever-looming feeling of disappointing them. Staying home and becoming a dance teacher is stable. As a performer, you're one bad turn away from ending your career altogether.

"Well," Minho's mother starts, "If that's what you two want. We'll support you."

A relieved smile creeps onto your face. You turn to Minho who is already staring at you with a soft smile. He mouths an 'I told you so,' and you know he's never going to let you forget that he was right.

"Look at our children! Company dancers!" Your mother cheers.

"Actually, I still want to be an instructor. So while Y/n is entertaining and captivating millions of people, I'll be preparing the next generation of dancers." Minho explains.

"As long as the two of you are happy, then we can't be mad."

"Just make sure you visit," Your father grumbles.

"We'll take care of each other like we always have and we'll come home as often as we can. And we'll make sure to have space for you if you ever come to visit as well."

And just like that, everything is falling into place. You're not sure why you were so worried for the past few months. You've known your parents your entire life, you know they wouldn't have reacted horribly to the news. Now, all you have to do is get through finals, your showcase duet with Minho, and graduation then you and Minho can start the next chapter of your lives together.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @allaboutyej8 @kangaracharacha @lilcutieana @jungkookies1002 @lanatheawesome @hanniemylovelyquokka @jiisungllvr @marked-unknown @kitheat @spearb-99 @chlodavids @veedoesntknaur @yongbbokkie @warlockwithoutcharisma @fennecnco @aslou @babygirlsuna @jihanlovic @kalopsian-thoughts @reianagarcia @sunshinessky @brain-empty-only-draken @f9clementine @jaydebow @phtogravi @mal-lunar-28 @jhstayy

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neeterloveschenford · 2 months

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Gonna throw my two cents in about 6x01. Many will not agree with me, but it is what it is. We're all allowed our opinions on a bunch of fictional characters. That being said, let's dive in.

I don't have a problem with Lucy or Tim and how they behaved in last night's episode. Was Lucy OTT and a bit irrational? Yes. Let me introduce y'all to anxiety. It's a common reaction to duress. I have often acted in a similar manner over the course of my life. I like to think that I am better at managing my anxiety, but I'm also 20 years older than Lucy. People tell me all the time that I am so confident and have it together. What they don't know is that I am just really good at handling it. But Lucy is still only in her early 30's. She still has a lot of life that she hasn't experienced yet. And I will never understand this mindset that Lucy is ALWAYS super confident and badass. Ummm, are we watching the same show? Yes, in the moment she can be a complete badass. When we first meet her, she takes out and arrests the dude that tried to carjack her. In 2x07 we see her dive right in with the bomber showing Nyla the potential that she has and starting one of the best friendships on the show. In 3x06 she came up with a cover story on the fly to save June. And I could keep going. But all of these are instances where there was not time for her to second guess herself. And this is what I love most about Lucy. She is me and I am her in a lot of instances. I don't want her to be perfect all the time. I love her imperfections. I love the fact that she can sometimes be immature and emotional. This makes her more real. And another thing that I think is often overlooked is the fact that It's only been about 3 years in the timeline. We grow and change over the course of our entire lives. Give her some more time if you want her to be a superhero. I mean Angela and Nyla often struggle with balancing their personal and professional lives. This is a process that never stops. And I want to continue to see her grow and become more confident. But it's a life long process.

Now on to Tim. I keep seeing people say that Tim has sat in a shop with her for 3 or 4 years so he should know how to talk to her and never say the wrong thing. Listen, my mom and stepdad have been married for over 40 years and the man still says the wrong thing all the time. I love how he slipped back into TO Tim and didn't realize that wasn't what Lucy needed. Just like Lucy, it makes him human. I love that he is just as flawed as Lucy, just in different ways. As for the fight, yes it was stupid. But people have stupid fights everyday. And sometimes those stupid fights are the catalyst to being able to move forward and deal with whatever caused the fight in the first place. I am excited to see them finally deal with the underlying issues they obviously have.

Anyway, I could go on and on, but I have to go to work. So I will end this here.

#chenford #the rookie #it's only my opinion

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quillfulwhimsyverse · 2 months

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Scent of Truth: Amortentia's Dilemma Unveiled Pt. 2

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: I have no clue where this is going and I am literally finding everything out as I write.

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

“So?” Fred asked impatiently when you opened your eyes suddenly in a very heavy shock. “Earth to you, ahoy? Ye hear me?”

“Ye, yes, I am very well aware of your babbling..” you murmur trying to push the potion away from your face and back into his hand. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to process the overwhelming rush of emotions and memories triggered by the scent of the Amortentia potion. Fred's eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“So?” He asked again, his eyes burning with pure curiosity as he took the bottle from your hand and screwed it shut. As he was about to put the bottle away into his pocket (probably no longer fit to go back into the potion stand once opened) when a girl, a bit younger than you stepped forwards a bit and opened her mouth to say something, but Fred giggled and handed the potion to her. “Use it wisely, don’t make anyone go as bollocks as this one went.” He nodded his head towards you and the girl tightly squeezed the bottle in her hands before running away to her friends. She, for sure, was about to boast about the free potion she got from the Weasley himself.

“Why did you do that?” you demanded. “Are you crazy? That potion is not a toy.”

“Love, relax, it is just a potion, its effects don’t last longer than a day, let them play. By the way, she practically stared at you without blinking as you took a whiff, waiting for your reaction even more eagerly than me. Now back to you. So? Figured out what your smelled aroma reminds you of?”

You swallowed hard. To say what you smelled wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was now making a decision: whether you tell Fred everything that came to your understanding in this little period of time, or you altern the truth just a bit. "I smelled the ocean..." you say, your eyes lingering on his face a bit, “then there were the books. And…” You trailed off, unable to bring yourself to say his name out loud, you opened your mouth to say something and in a coughing form a sentence flew out of your mouth before you could register“ I really couldn't understand the last scent.”

For some reason, Fred found this utterly entertaining. It was probably the most fun he had experienced in weeks in this shop of his. Not that he ever grew bored with George around, oh no - far from it. They always found new mischievous ways of breaking something, of teasing someone, of making something new, that was potentially on the line of being dangerous. Fred cherished each and every product in his shop, but there was a delicious irony in the fact that the one item he never dared to lay a finger on, ever since he and George created it, was Amortentia.

“But did it confirm it?” his cheeky smile playing lightly on his lips, his eyes getting narrow slowly, he was curious. Could you blame him?

“What?” he saw you were completely absent from the conversation, he laughed a little at your response.

“I asked if that smell you didn’t recognise could’ve been the scent of a person you suddenly had feelings for?” he asked, prompting a frown from you in response. “Or was it something else and the feelings are the result of Amortentia for sure?” He lifted his eyebrows and wiggled them playfully.

Your thoughts came to a sudden halt, a momentary break in the flow of irrational thoughts. Perhaps it was because you needed that one little moment to gather everything that happened thus far, or maybe it was the exhaustion and lack of sleep finally catching up to you…Or maybe, and most realistically, it was shock. You were so sure of something that has just been proven wrong to you.

Your heartbeat quickened and blood flooded to your face. It all happened so unexpectedly, almost akin to the sensation of rising too swiftly from your bed - dizzy, lightheaded, and disoriented. It was as if the past couple of years had been a gradual unveiling, each moment serving as a subtle reminder of what you had failed to grasp.

The way your eyes would linger on him a little longer during class or dinner, the way you purposefully avoided taking a sweater with you on the evenings out of the Burrow, just in case he took one with himself to give to you. At the time everything seemed playful and stupid to you, but it was now, at this exact moment, that you grasped what all of that was for. And you didn’t really know what to do with this information now. You couldn’t tell him, that would be stupid, not only that would be so stupid, that would also make your friendship go south so fast, you would have no chance of redeeming it ever.

“I told you, I didn’t know what I smelled, it could’ve been anything.” You lie, but as you meet his penetrating gaze, a flicker of doubt creeps into your mind, suggesting that he may see through the facade you've hastily constructed. “It is Amortentia. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to jinx anyone. The obsession is going to pass anyway, isn’t it?”

“Nah.” he shook his head. “I went through all this trouble not for you to shrug it off so easily. C’mon gimme a name. Tell me about a bloke who tried to made you obsessed.”

You hesitate, confronted with the abrupt realization that Fred isn’t about to let you slide out of this situation without a proper explanation. And that is quite a problem to you. You created this dumb situation yourself. You sought answers, and now the very person who is the problem and the answer, is now asking for the answer. It’s like he’s asking to name the problem when the problem itself is asking for a name.

"It's not like that," you protest weakly, but Fred raises an eyebrow skeptically, clearly unconvinced by your deflection.

"Sure, sure," he teases, his tone playful yet persistent.

“No, really, “ you smile at him kindly. “I think I panicked too early and now everything is settling down and the potion effects are wearing down, everything is fine. See? I am all better.”

He didn’t speak for a while then determination crossed his face, with his eyes slightly narrowed, jaw clenched, he crossed his arms on his chest. “The name, Y/N. I don’t care that the effects are wearing off.” He leaned a little closer towards you. “Nobody, and I mean no-bo-dy can use pranks on my friends, except me and George. Especially when it leaves our friends confused, or in your case,” he frowned, “all worked up.”

A brief silence hung between you two. Fred released an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fine, have it your way then. Is that the gratitude I get for helping out?" He repeated the eye roll, this time accompanied by a playful tone which made you giggle. “Just teasing you.”

“I think I spent too much time here.” you remarked as Weasley Wizard Wheezes buzzed with activity, busy as ever. “I could use some fresh air…Oi!” you quickly yelp in a surprise. “You’ve started a delivery service?”

Fred follows your gaze up. About ten different owls have gathered themselves on the staircase railing. Each owl bore a small note attached to its leg, swiftly being removed by George.

“Oh yeah, we’ve started offering deliveries, “ Fred confirmed. “I should go help George with that. Sorry, Y/N. Things always get hectic near closing time. But please, stay for dinner, huh?”

Your heart gently leaped inside your chest.

“Fred, I stayed over for dinner like four days ago.”

Fred chuckled. "And you're still recovering from the shock of seeing our cooking skills, I understand," he teased back, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But seriously, it'd be nice to have you around. We can always use some company after a busy day."

You couldn't help but smile at Fred's invitation, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought of spending more time with him. Despite your earlier hesitation, the idea of staying for dinner sounded more appealing by the second.

"I suppose I could stay for a bit," you relented, your smile widening. "But only if I get to make dinner this time. I'm not sure I can handle another round of your infamous cooking, you’re good at making your joke shop things, but your food…”

Fred's eyes lit up with amusement. "Deal," he replied, extending a hand toward you in mock formality. "Consider yourself officially hired as our sous chef for the evening."

You laughed, shaking his hand with a playful nod. "It's a deal then. Just don't expect any miracles in the kitchen." You were always happy to spend time with both of the twins. You were happy to have Fred around and to be around him. This new discoverie of feelings might get in the way of you actually enjoying his presence without overcomplicating or overthinking things. But how else were you supposed to understand what you were feeling?

How else were you supposed to be sure that it wasn’t just an Amortentia trick or something? If this dinner shows that you’re nothing but a friend, a sister to him, you will go on and live your life as if this revelation never happened.

But no matter the cost, you made a vow to yourself, no matter what happens, you will never ruin this friendship for the matter of your feelings.

“You know where to find the kitchen, don’t you? Go make yourself at home, we will be quick with you, after we finish with the owl deliveries.” he sent a wink your way as you turned to go up the stairs into their living area, which was above their joke shop.

Fred shook his head and moved to walk to his brother, before sending another curious look towards the Amortentia stand. It seemed dumb for him to admit it, but he felt happy. He felt happy you stayed for dinner, he felt happy that you let him help. That you came to him when you needed help. But mostly, he felt happy that whatever you were feeling for someone will go away as the last potion drop wears away.

——-

Tags for those who requested: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#fred x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred #harry potter #amortentia

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animeomegas · 3 years

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Kintober - Day 12

[Saeran (Mystic Messenger) + Roleplay / AU]

Summary: *Royal!AU* Saeran has been your most loyal advisor for as long as you could remember, but as another one of your advisors leaves the palace to peruse their own life, you can’t help but worry that your time with Saeran is running out. Alpha!Royal!Dom!Reader

Warnings: Power difference, could be read as coercion although it is not intended that way. Mention of fur rugs. Reader gets very angry for a short irrational period.

“Saeran.”

“Yes, your highness?”

He was by your side immediately. As he always was. Your most loyal servant.

“Have you heard any news about Jihyun, yet?”

“Yes, your highness. He is settling down well with his new pups and asked me to send a message of gratitude to you for your generous retirement stipend so that he may raise his pups,” Saeran answered, passing you a letter, presumably from Jihyun.

“I’m glad.”

You placed the letter down carefully on the desk in front of you to read later and turned back to your work. New laws, invitations, social letters… engagement meetings… and yet you still couldn’t focus.

“Saeran,” you called again.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Will you ever leave me, Saeran?” you despised how vulnerable you sounded, but the words had been sitting on your mind for a long time. “Will you move out of the castle? Find a mate? Move on with your life?”

Saeran was silent for a moment and only the sound of the crackling fire could be heard in the room.

“This castle… it’s my home,” Saeran spoke hesitantly, as though he were afraid of saying too much. No matter how many times you had tried to convince him that he could always speak freely with you, he was always careful with his words. “I’ve been in this castle since I was a little boy, and my life from before isn’t something I am keen to repeat. I don’t know anything else.”

“But what if you meet someone? Don’t you want pups?” you knew you sounded desperate, but you were. The life of a royal was a lonely one and Saeran had been with you for almost your entire life. After losing Jihyun, you were so anxious that losing Saeran too was on the horizon.

Saeran took a step closer to your desk. He was nervous, you could tell. He looked stoic on the surface but he was clenching his fists so hard his knuckles were a bright white.

“I live to serve you, your highness,” he said, voice thick. “Until you get rid of me.”

“I’ll never get rid of you,” you said firmly, gently reaching out to turn his chin so that you could look at him properly. “Do you trust me?”

Saeran didn’t hesitate.

“Always, your highness.”

You kept eye contact for a little longer before picking up the letter on the top of the pile. It was by far the nicest letter in the pile. The most beautiful calligraphy, scented paper, wax seals… and a note on top from your father, telling you to treat this seriously. It was a rather impressive proposal from a third son in the neighbouring kingdom who was hoping to marry into your kingdom.

“My father is hoping I will get married,” you said out loud, carefully watching Saeran’s reactions without making it look like you were trying to watch him.

Saeran stiffened before he took a silent breath and asked,

“Is that so, your highness?”

“What do you think about that, Saeran?”

“If I may speak freely?” he asked hesitantly, before continuing at your nod. “I simply hope that you will do what makes you happy, your highness.”

Rage suddenly filled your veins at his refusal to do anything but talk around his true feelings. He had claimed to speak freely but you knew the way he felt about you, no matter how much he tried to hide it. You wanted to see him jealous, to see him emotional, to see him be something other than perfect, to see him willing to fight for you. You shot to your feet aggressively, your chair clattering against the stone floor behind you as all the emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over.

“You don’t understand!” you shouted, making Saeran jump as you whirled around to face him. “I will never be happy! Not with the prince, not with any of the hundreds of suitors who insist on badgering me at every waking moment!”

“Your highness, please ca-“

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” you cut him off, alpha pheromones filling the room in an instant. Saeran stopped immediately, flinching back and lowering his head submissively.

He looks scared.

All the anger drained out of you immediately.

“I apologise, your highness, feel free to punish me as you see fit for speaking out of turn.”

“Stop it, Saeran,” you whispered, all the anger well and truly gone. “Just stop.”

He fell silent, immediately.

He was never going to make the move you wanted him to, you suddenly realised. He wasn’t like that, he was too professional, too reserved. You were asking too much, you were expecting too much. How could a servant, even one as high up as Saeran, ever make a move on a royal? He would be a fool to risk himself in such a way, and Saeran was not a fool.

You were the fool for expecting that. And you were a fool for blowing up on him.

“Do you know what would make me happy, Saeran?” you walked towards him. careful to keep any anger out of your voice.

“What, your highness?” Saeran stuttered, seeming utterly confused by the turn of events.

You tilted you head as you surveyed the man in front of you. He was stunning. His hair was a shade of red that was almost impossible, his eyes were always shining, and when you managed to coax a smile from him, it filled you with warmth. The firelight enhanced everything.

And his lips. Soft and inviting. Your eyes zeroed in on them.

“I order you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“Wha-“

You kissed him.

His lips felt cool against yours, that was the first thing you noticed. And the last thing you noticed because Saeran pushed you away.

“What are you doing?” he trembled, bringing a shaking hand to his lips. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.”

“You are what makes me happy, Saeran.”

…

It took some convincing, some promises, some planning. But eventually Saeran agreed to give your relationship a chance, in secret first, and once your father’s declining health led him to abdicate his power to you, you would go public with the relationship.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

Saeran laughed softly and flushed, both of you reclining on some furs in front of the fire in your private quarters. You couldn’t help stroking his hair away from his face.

“Your highness-“

“You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone.”

“It would be inappropriate-“ Saeran protested.

“More inappropriate than this?” you stripped off your dressing gown, leaving you in your underwear only. You lounged back onto the furs and smiled at the beautiful omega that you were courting.

“I- no I suppose not,” Saeran conceded with a blush. You smirked when you noticed how his eyes were lingering on your bulge. He swallowed heavily.

You smirked and pulled him forward a little so that he was level with your crotch.

“You don’t have to look from afar, baby, it’s all for you.”

Saeran gazed up at you apprehensively for a moment before he spoke.

“I want to service you, to make you feel good,” he admitted quietly. “You’re always so stressed from working too hard, and I want t take some of that burden.”

Your felt your heart soften. How could someone be so cute and seductive at the same time?

“You’re welcome to do whatever you want with me, my dearest Saeran.”

“Yes, your highness,” he smiled, before lowering your underwear and pressing a kiss to the tip of your cock. His lips were still cool, as they always were.

Delicately, Saeran put the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around. You sighed in contentment and let your head fall back and your eyes close so you could focus on the sensations.

He was liberal with his tongue, taking his time to go up and down your cock like he was worshiping it. The first time he’d done this, he’d discovered how much you liked it when he hummed and now, every time, he abused that power.

“Oh shit,” you breathed as Saeran hummed and coughed around you, taking you down a little further than comfortable. “That feels amazing, my dearest.”

Distantly, you heard Saeran pull off of your cock with a pop.

You glanced down and saw Saeran watching you.

“Are you feeling more relaxed now, your highness?” Saeran asked, nuzzling his face into your crotch as he stared up at you.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased. “I think I might need a little more encouragement; I had a stressful day after all.”

“Of course, your highness, for you, I would do anything.”

Without waiting for your reply, he slipped your cock back into his mouth. Your toes curled. Nothing was as special as these nights you could spend together with Saeran.

He grazed the edges of your cock with his teeth suddenly, causing you to jolt and thrust a little too far into his throat. Saeran coughed and pulled back, wiping at his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

And he was back at it, stealing your words before you could get the apology out. You supressed a smile; Saeran wasn’t a quitter, that much you knew for certain. He had this special ability to wind you up like no one else. There was no one else in the world that you would let see you this vulnerable, no one you would trust so much, no one but Saeran.

The blowjob felt amazing of course, but the way Saeran kept looking up at you for approval or to gauge your reactions was driving you wild.

“I’m close,” you warned, reaching down to thumb the corner of Saeran’s mouth, which was currently stretched tightly around your cock. Saeran sped up, taking your warning as a challenge.

“Fuck, I’m there,” you managed to grunt out one last warning as you exploded. Saeran pulled off just in time to avoid getting any of your cum in his mouth, but not fast enough to avoid a rather impressive facial.

Your cum coated his soft skin, forcing him to close his eyes. You were too far gone to care much that it was getting in his hair, as far as you were concerned, that just meant another round in the bath later, an opportunity to repay his affections tenfold.

You panted and relaxed into the furs and pillows as your orgasm petered out. You allowed yourself a few moments to collect yourself before grabbing the cloth and pitcher of water you’d had brought up earlier and bringing them over to Saeran.

“Thank you, Saeran, that was wonderful, you’re very talented,” you praised as you started to wipe some of the cum so that he could open his eyes.

Saeran smiled a little at the compliment but didn’t speak, instead he tried to take the cloth off of you to clean himself up. He was always trying to do everything.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you reprimanded. “Let me, my dearest, just relax.”

Saeran slowly lowered his hands to his lap at your instruction.

One day you would teach him to relax properly. Round two in the bath would probably go a long way.

#kinktober #saeran #saeran choi #saeran x reader #saeran x mc #a/b/o #n-sfw #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha reader #alpha!mc #alpha mc #dom reader #dom!reader #dom mc #dom!mc

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hongism · 3 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 39

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 11.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part six

You’ve come to the blinding realization that Jeong Yunho is enjoying himself far too much at this very moment. You are standing here preparing to get dragged to high heaven without relent by Hongjoong, and the healer has made himself comfortable in Hongjoong’s chair behind his desk, feet propped up on the corner with a pen dangling from his lips like it’s a piece of candy. It doesn’t help that whenever he stops staring you down, he shifts to look at the man in front of him with sex-laden eyes and you feel positively out of place in this room right now. You are also fairly certain that he’s smirking every time Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, but you can’t focus on that too much when Hongjoong is dragging this whole process out the way he is. If he would just get on with this inevitable lecture so you don’t lose any further shreds of dignity, that would be much preferred.

As though sensing the gaze on the back of his head, Hongjoong turns in his place to glare back at Yunho.

“Can you stop eye-fucking me for two seconds?”

“Not my fault you’re hot when seething with rage.” Yunho’s quip is thrown hastily back, bringing a huff from Hongjoong’s lips as he shakes his head.

“Knock it off before I kick you out.”

“Cute,” Yunho singsongs back, and he lets a smile stretch around the body of the pen between his teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Now is not the time, Yunho.”

“I hardly mind an audience!”

“You won’t be allowed to go on the recovery mission for Mingi,” the captain starts at last, pointedly ignoring Yunho’s last comment as he redirects his focus to where you stand. Yunho pokes his tongue out alongside the pen, glancing between you and Hongjoong, but you only give him your attention for that brief moment. “I highly doubt I need to even begin to explain why this is my decision, but it would be best for you to hear it directly from me. Your actions last night, to put it mildly, were both irrational and childish. You reacted poorly to an already tense situation and not only put yourself at risk, but the safety of the crew at risk as well. What would have happened if you had killed Jisung last night? We would not have had the location of San and thus had no way of knowing where he is being held. You were reckless on all accounts, refusing to listen to both your captain and your lieutenant, who called out to you multiple times while you were talking with Jisung but you seemed unable to hear him in the slightest.”

All you can do is press your lips together and chew at the inside of your cheek. Hongjoong is not wrong, of course, and you would be the first to admit that your outburst last night was more than just a lapse in judgment. As for Seonghwa trying to get you to stop, you truly have no recollection of that, so if he did attempt that you were unable to hear it. There’s no telling how long Hongjoong was lingering at the edge of the room either or if he called you off at all, but those are just unnecessary details at this point.

“Trying to do things on your own out of a purely emotional reaction does nothing for the crew as a whole. Thus, there is no way in hell I would ever let you go on this mission. Allowing you to go would teach you nothing; it would simply tell you that you can get away with shit like that. And I’m telling you now that you cannot and will not under my command.” Hongjoong brings his arms up to cross over his chest. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still leaned up against the front of his desk as before, and though his tone reads anger, you can’t find any in his posture. Yunho’s still teasing that pen between his teeth. “Yeosang and Jongho will accompany Jisung to recover Mingi according to the agreement you struck up with Jisung. Whereas you, Y/N, will remain on the bridge being monitored since you cannot seem to act like an adult on your own.”

The not-so-subtle dig should burn your pride, but this is humiliating enough to have you already in the lowest depths of your dignity.

“Along with that, we have come up with a failsafe for if Jisung acts up. If he decides to get rowdy and misbehave himself, then you will be strapped to a chair and punished for each of his missteps. That’s… not a conclusion we came to lightly and it’s not one we wish to enact as you are a member of the crew, but we are not sure how else to keep Han in line.”

“Tch, do your worst,” you scoff. You nearly mirror his stance and cross your arms over your chest, but you think twice when you see the quirk of his brow at your tone. You have pushed your luck enough in the past twenty-four hours, so perhaps you need to hold back just a tad until Hongjoong is less… on edge with you. “I was ready to kill myself last night to stop him. What more can you do to me now?”

Now, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to scoff, and the huff of air that follows is so sharp it sounds like a whistle. He pushes off the desk in the same movement, arms falling down to his sides, and with each following word, he takes a step closer to where you stand.

“You think you can afford to be reckless and risk your life over someone as insignificant and pathetic as Han Jisung?”

He’s close enough to jab a finger into your sternum now, knocking hard against the bone just beneath your collarbone. His height disadvantage from last night is gone as well; he must have had time to make himself presentable before calling you up to be drawn and quartered (seemingly for Yunho’s amusement because he’s just having the absolute time of his life over there).

“Do you have every right to act that way with him? Perhaps you do, but you will not, under any circumstances, threaten your own life to prove a point under my command.” Hongjoong presses closer, enough to hiss his next words against the shell of your ear and leaving you to stare past his shoulder directly at Yunho. “I need you alive. When you agreed to be part of my crew, you trusted me with your life. And as such, I will not allow you to throw your own life around so foolishly. Understood?” The distance between you increases as he leans back. You expect more words from him but all he does is arch a brow and stare at you with inquiry to his gaze.

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you murmur before going back to chewing at your lower lip. Hongjoong catches your chin with his index finger a moment later though, forcing you to look back at him.

“Do not mistake my kindness last night for mercy, Y/N. I am your captain still and you will regard me as such.”

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out, teeth pressed so tight that your jaw hurts as you speak. Hongjoong laughs — whether it’s at your expression or the way you force the words out is unbeknownst to you, but he steps back to give you more space after you respond. Yunho hums from his place at Hongjoong’s desk. He slips the pen out to point the tip in your direction, a cruel smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

“It seems you were right after all, Captain,” he singsongs. “Here I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep her in line.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes a bit at that but does nothing more than sending a half-hearted glare back at Yunho over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you watch their brief interaction with a narrowed gaze of your own.

“Hm, nothing, nothing. Now, the real reason I don’t want you going on the mission to retrieve Mingi is that you will be going on the team to recover San.”

“The what?” You echo, brows rising at the mention of San. Hongjoong continues as though you didn’t interrupt, not pausing to answer your question.

“I don’t want to run the crew too thin as it is, but it’s best to send more people with Jisung in the off chance he does decide to misbehave. Once that team returns, you will be dispatched with Wooyoung to recover San.” Hongjoong pauses to smile a little. “That works out best for you, does it not?”

Frankly, Hongjoong has no reason to send you on the recovery mission for San. If he were truly punishing you, he wouldn’t even let you dream of it. So why?

“Why would you let me go on that mission knowing it’s what I want? Wouldn’t a true punishment be to not send me on that mission?” You inquire against better judgment. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his chin to the ceiling.

“The punishment,” he starts in a slow, drawling tone, “is refusing to send you on the mission you tried to plan yourself without my approval. And given how eager you are to both protect San and bring him back unharmed, I know that I can trust you to do that. Initially, I was going to send you alone on this mission but Seonghwa suggested sending Wooyoung along too.”

Even with Seonghwa locked up, they still work together on plans and missions. Despite fighting just yesterday as well. You purse your lips as you listen to Hongjoong talk, moreso because of the mention of Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s suggestion that he come along. Seonghwa knows of Wooyoung’s identity, as well as yours, and those facts combined leave you more baffled than anything else. Why the hell would Seonghwa suggest sending two Sirens off on a dangerous mission like this one?

Hongjoong pulls a hand out of his pocket to tap at his chin.

“Today will be a busy day for all of us, but it should be the last busy day for quite some time. If Jisung complies and everything goes according to plan, that is. Yeosang and Jongho will be leaving to accompany Jisung for Mingi’s retrieval in forty-five minutes. They are slated to return late afternoon. Should the mission go off without a hitch, you and Wooyoung will depart shortly after they get back. I will fill you both in on further details later when you are both present. I hesitate to interrupt whatever Yeosang and Wooyoung may be doing at present.” Yunho snorts at that comment, covering the sound with the back of his hand. “After today, you all will be able to have some time to rest and recover before we move forward. We won’t be leaving the planet immediately though. Seonghwa and I are to depart for a short mission of our own tomorrow.”

He doesn’t add any more detail to that bit of information. You can read the context clues and the shift in mood well enough though, and think you have a good grasp of what that mission might be. Subconsciously, your gaze flits over to Yunho again, but his expression is flat and unreadable, leaving nothing for you to pick up on. Hongjoong offers a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Even though you had many missteps last night, your conversation with Seonghwa was, for the most part, not one of them. You did well and kept your promise to leave the decision in his hands in that regard. Your errors were only in what followed that conversation. It’s not easy for someone in your position to show such empathy, yet you managed to do so anyway. Given what Seonghwa and I talked about after you were dismissed, you… you managed to make him feel a bit more human and helped him recognize that his feelings are not obsolete. So, I thank you for that much. I won’t lecture you any further for now, but I do still have many qualms with how you handled Jisung’s taunting and how that behavior affected Seonghwa in turn. I’m in a decent enough mood to not lecture you about that right now. You have earned a sliver of my trust. Work hard to get my respect next.”

You arch a brow, fighting to hold back the scoff that threatens to spill forth.

“What makes you think I want your respect to begin with?”

Hongjoong matches your expression with a fire of his own, and some light returns to his grin.

“Arrogance.”

///

The cool metal floor of the bridge burns your knees even through the thick material of your pants. You’re trying your best not to let it affect you, but the combination of the freezing cold along with Hongjoong’s unending glare on your back is nothing pleasant. You can’t see his glare head-on, which could either be viewed as a good thing or a bad one depending on your perspective. Right now, however, you find it to be unsettling: the way you kneel in front of the observation window that still overlooks a mostly empty hangar bay with Hongjoong seated in his captain’s chair behind you. It would be entirely less frightening if not for the way Hongjoong is twirling a knife in one hand and humming under his breath, just faint enough for you to overhear although you don’t recognize the tune. With one leg crossed over the other and his chin propped up on his free hand, his position only exudes power. That’s very much a power you can feel all too well in this moment, knowing exactly what the intents and purposes of that knife are.

The captain is communicating with Yeosang through the comms system, and in turn, he’s keeping tabs on Jisung’s behavior throughout their mission. You’re banking on Jisung not acting out of line so you can preferably preserve yourself from further bodily harm, but the threat looms past your shoulder nonetheless. Jongho went along with the pair, another hopeful guarantee of Mingi’s safety, yet you were not even allowed to watch them leave thanks to your behavior last night.

The silence hanging between the two of you is deafening, and your thoughts won’t settle for more than a few seconds, so you’re the one to break the silence once it starts to drag.

“Could I ask you something about tomorrow?”

“Go ahead.”

“If Seonghwa were to regret his decision, what would you do?”

It might be a bit of a loaded question, one that he could very well refuse to answer, and his sharp inhale of breath makes you believe he might just do that. Then, a few breaths later, he speaks.

“There isn’t much I could do,” he admits. “Though I would do anything and everything in my power to ease the burden on his shoulders in that case. And you? What would you do if you reach San too late? If he’s already had the serum injected?”

“Do you truly believe he has?” You inquire back, and despite your attempts to sound firm and resolute, you come across more afraid than anything else.

“I know San’s resilience well enough to believe he would never do that, but that wasn’t the question. No matter how slim the chances of failure are, you must be prepared for any possible outcome.”

“Failure?” You retort, bristling a bit where you are seated. You cast a look over at Hongjoong through the reflection, moreso just to glare at him, but you don’t think he can see you looking. “Recovering San would never be a failure. The only failure on this mission would be not being able to retrieve him.” Despite those claims, you can’t shake the thoughts of San forgetting you in your dreams the previous night. You thought the worst pain imaginable would be finding him dead, but him forgetting you before you get the change to — no, it’s not good to dwell on those concerns now.

“Does that mean then that recovering him even at the cost of his memories is still a success to you?”

“The only failure would be not rescuing him,” you reiterate, pushing your tone a bit so it echoes through the bridge. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “During my time in the military, I was taught to accept any possibility on a mission. Even if it’s not what I want, I have to accept that a San who is alive and well but cannot remember me is better than one who is broken, gone, or worse.”

You dare to glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s face. He’s smiling a little, just enough to cast the shadow of a grin over his lips.

“You never would have passed for an Elitist, you know?”

“Is that supposed to be a criticism?”

“You are choosing the most logical option, yet your reasoning for doing so is purely emotional. Yeosang would have offered no explanation.”

“And yet he cried every night Wooyoung was gone.”

“Of course he did, Y/N. That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Hongjoong states. He lifts a brow at you. “The key issue most people have when pretending to be Elitists is that they try to erase all signs of emotion. Elitists still have emotions and feel them as strongly as the rest of us. They merely ignore those emotions often in favor of more reasonable and logical outcomes. Yeosang could have cried every night for months straight, but if I had offered an illogical plan to recover Wooyoung, he would not have taken it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you counter, grumbling the words under your breath before turning back to the observation window.

“Did I hear my name? Are you guys gossiping about me without me?”

“Ah, there you are.”

You glance back immediately at the sound of the newcomer, catching the broad grin on Hongjoong’s lips as he too stands to greet Wooyoung.

“What took so long?”

“Yunho did my hair!” The man reaches behind his head and pulls back the top half of his hair as he matches Hongjoong’s smile with his own toothy one. The whole underside is a blinding blond, top half left black and hanging loose around his face. “Looks hot, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong releases what sounds like a snort then swipes a hand at Wooyoung’s. The movement sends a surge of panic through you for a second, not because you think Hongjoong would truly hit Wooyoung, but because of how the younger might react to the hasty swipe. He crushes that fear in an instant, laughing loud and clear as Hongjoong lands his palm on the other’s head and ruffles his newly dyed hair until it’s a mess atop his head.

“Ask Yeosang when he gets back. Did you make time to visit Seonghwa too?”

Wooyoung’s smile wavers some at that.

“I did, yeah.” Wooyoung glances down. Even with the odd angle, you can see the conflict in his features and the way his brows strain to keep from slipping further together. Hongjoong must see it too because he’s next to speak.

“…And?”

“It’s hard seeing him in that position,” Wooyoung says under his breath. “I’m not… not used to it and I hate every ounce of it. I don’t like seeing Seonghwa weak, and even though I know he’s not, it still feels like he is seeing him that way. Brings out old feelings I’d rather not revisit honestly.” Hongjoong brings a hand up to run through his fading blue tresses to hide the way his fingers tremble.

“I’m assuming Han wasn’t present when you went down there?”

“I went before they left this morning. With, um, with Yeosang, but Han seemed to be asleep the entire time. Didn’t move or look at us at least. We — we didn’t talk about anything important either.” Wooyoung’s gaze flits over to where you’re standing. You incline your chin a bit but stay mum, knowing the implication behind his words. They didn’t discuss anything related to Sirens, that is, which is mildly encouraging for you if that means anything at all. “Yunho was gonna head down there when we finished my hair too.”

If that surprises Hongjoong, the captain doesn’t let it show. It shocks you some, on the other hand, given that you’ve witnessed them fight and argue more than they’ve been civil in your time on the crew. Commenting on that won’t do you any good so you stay quiet, eyeing Hongjoong’s demeanor out the corner of your eye while he continues to speak to Wooyoung.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. The mission?”

“Right, the mission,” Hongjoong mutters even though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lifts a hand and beckons you closer, and you move to stand alongside Wooyoung near his chair. “Han disclosed the location of the military complex where San is being held. It’s further up in the Upper Echelon than the brother was but also more highly guarded.” Hongjoong pauses to spare a glance in Wooyoung’s direction. “Are you sure you want to come on this mission? I won’t force you if you don’t feel ready.”

At first, all Wooyoung manages is a thick swallow.

“I… I-I want to be ready,” he stutters after a moment of deliberation. “I want — I don’t want what happened to me to affect the well-being of the crew.”

“I can easily go in your place, Woo. I don’t mind if you don’t feel comf—”

“No,” Wooyoung interjects, shaking his head all the while, and Hongjoong actually falls quiet at the interruption. “No, then what? What’s your plan? You want to leave Seonghwa stuck in a cell with Yunho, who can’t fucking kill anyone, as his sole protector while some psychopath mills about the ship as he pleases?”

“Yeosang and Jongho will be back with Mingi by then. We have a plan for Jisung as well, to keep him somewhere out of Seonghwa’s vicinity and within reach. It will have to do temporarily, and besides, Yunho can step up when he needs to.”

“He can’t hold a gun without throwing up; what makes you think he has the balls to kill someone?”

“I — we’re working on that still, admittedly, but he’s getting better.”

“Hongjoong, I’m fine. I talked to Yunho yesterday and ran through the whole screening with him. He didn’t see an issue with me so I’m clear to go on a mission, and I am okay with going on a mission. I’ll be with Y/N the whole time, right? That should be enough! I know how to fight and defend myself. Whatever happened in that brothel shouldn’t bother me.” Wooyoung, if nothing else, is quite adamant, leaving forward into Hongjoong’s space a bit to clutch at his forearm. Hongjoong merely blinks down at the offending hand but does nothing to remove his touch before offering a hesitant nod.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Are you worried about San?” Wooyoung inquires. His teeth sink into his lower lip moments later. If he aims to probe deeper into Hongjoong’s feelings, the captain does well to not let anything slip through his countenance.

“I worry for all of the crew. San is no different.”

“San is a bit of a special case though, isn’t he?”

Now that’s a first for you. The first you’ve heard such a thing be said about San, that is. You have known since the mission in Echidna that Hongjoong values and cares for San quite a bit. To this extent, however? You’ve not heard anything memorable. Hongjoong and Wooyoung share an unspoken conversation with just that ounce of information, and you are left to your bewilderment. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you have no idea. There’s no time to ask either because Hongjoong clears his throat and dismisses the topic as quickly as Wooyoung brought it up.

“I’ll put the coordinates of the warehouses in Channel 7, so tune over to that channel and sync your wristbands and earpieces. It will just be the three of us and Yeosang listening in this time. As soon as the others get back, Yeosang will bring Jisung to the bridge. I don’t want him with Seonghwa anymore, but we still need to keep him on lockdown for now. Jongho will take Mingi to Yunho and help look after him while you two are away. Yeosang asked to be connected for your sake.”

“Of course he did,” Wooyoung huffs. The roll of his eyes is nothing but affectionate, present but a faux annoyance.

“It’s just for precaution though; you won’t have any backup in there. Once you two are on the ground, you’re on your own.” The discomfort Wooyoung exhibits is minimal and hard to catch. It’s there, however, a shift from foot to foot and a glance over at the wall like something is about to jump out at him. Hongjoong pushes closer and drops his hands atop the younger’s shoulders. “I… hesitate to say this because I do not wish to take this choice away from you, but I think it is in everyone’s best interest to keep you off this mission.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine! I can go on the mission, Joong, I want to go on the mission,” Wooyoung rambles, head shaking frantically from side to side. “I’m strong enough, I can fight, I can r-recover San. With Y/N. We can recover San.”

“You don’t need to convince me of that, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s lips fold down. “I also don’t need you to go on this mission to prove that. I already know those things of you regardless.”

“I just… I w-want to be okay enough to go on the mission because everyone else is,” Wooyoung mutters loud enough for both you and Hongjoong to hear. “Everyone else is okay. I don’t want anyone to — to worry about whether I’m okay or not.”

“Wooyoung…” To your surprise, Hongjoong huffs out a laugh and cracks a strained smile. “My lieutenant has locked himself in the brig, my strategist has been tearing his hair out for days on end and I think I found a bald spot on the back of his head the other day because he’s been so stressed over recovering you, my bruiser is quieter and broods more than ever, and our dear ghost here is dealing with seeing an old teammate who manipulated her memories and kidnapped three members of the crew. I have not slept more than three hours in the past two days, and no more than twelve in the past week. The only person who is even mildly okay right now is Yunho, but that’s only because he is in denial about how much this is weighing on him and using physical pleasures as a way of coping with the stress. You don’t need to be okay because no one else is either. Not right now at least. It would taste a lie to pretend like anything about this situation is something you should be okay with. Once San and Mingi are both back and safe, and once Han Jisung is properly taken care of, then we’ll be able to rest and recover.”

“I — o-okay.” Wooyoung’s shoulders fall forward as he relents, but he doesn’t put up more of a fight. “Does Yeosang really have a bald spot though? I mean, I yanked his hair pretty hard last night because I got a bit carried away and saw something on the back of his head but I thought I was just seeing things. Is it actually there? Maybe I should be more gentle with his poor head then.”

“You — Wooyoung, I-I am not — this is hardly important!”

“Excuse you, my lover’s hair growth is extremely important!”

“He has a fucking bald spot, I already told you that much. Now, enough out of you, and get some legitimate rest while you can. Or if you’re feeling restless, you can see if Yunho needs help with anything in the medbay.”

“Yes, Captain.” Wooyoung bows his head a tad before sending a half-hearted wave in your direction. You return the gesture with a smile, watching him turn on his heel and exit the bridge the way he came. His shoulders are pushed back a bit more this time, there’s some confidence to his steps that he didn’t have when he came, and you can practically feel the relief that oozes off his body even when he’s out of sight.

“So that leaves just us then?” You ask once you tear your gaze away from the archway.

“We’ll keep Yeosang on the line since Seonghwa will still be unavailable. Nothing else about the plan will need to change.” Hongjoong turns back to sit in his chair once more, but you stay put, watching his movements out the corner of your eye.

“You mentioned going back out into the city tomorrow. When do you plan to leave for that?”

“If everything goes well today then… hm, we’ll probably leave the planet around three days from now? Just in case Yunho needs other supplies that we don’t have readily available here on the ship.”

“So there will be one last day here before we all leave? Where we should all be on the ship, I mean?” Teeth sink into your lower lip after you pose the question. Hongjoong’s gaze turns analytic and searching, but you offer no more information as it is.

“Yes…” He affirms after several seconds of hesitation. “Why is it you’re so curious?”

“Something has been bothering me since recovering Wooyoung from the brothel.”

“Enlighten me.”

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to even get this far with the conversation. Part of you thought Hongjoong would shut you down before you got a chance to explain yourself, and all the thoughts you had of bringing this up to him were fleeting and momentary. The lack of prior planning makes you stop in your tracks and stutter over air.

“I – in, um, while Jongho and I were waiting for Yeosang to go through, I c-came across a girl who used to be on my team. Back in the military, I mean. She was a worker there and apparently has been since my team defected. It’s… I understand that I’m not in any position to ask for things, and she didn’t ask me to help her in any way, but I can’t help but to want to get her out of there. Seeing what Wooyoung suffered in there wasn’t pleasant, and I can’t rest easy thinking of her suffering the same way.”

Sure you promised Soojin that you would help her find leads on Ash and Juyeon without saying you would help her get out, but her only reason for not wanting freedom was the lack of a place to go. “I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.” If you could do anything to convince Hongjoong to take her in, even just for a short period of time to get her back on her feet, that would be more than ideal.

“You can’t rest easy? Then forget about her.”

“I — what?” You should not have let yourself have an ounce of hope, it seems.

“Put her out of your mind and forget about her if you do not wish to imagine her suffering.”

“Hongj— Captain, I can hardly—”

“Y/N, your former teammates seem to have a streak of being less than kind. Don’t forget how you acted in your first few days on the ship. How can I trust someone I don’t even know to not do the same? And all things considered, I cannot trust your memory to recall the truth.” Hongjoong lifts his brows as he speaks. There is no anger in his features or in his tone; moreso a sense of finality that offers the smallest window for you to argue back on the matter. You take the chance nonetheless.

“She can vouch for herself seeing as she helped us escape. You can ask Jongho and Wooyoung as well, they witnessed it as well as how she helped me. Jisung tried to kill her the night of the mission — he sent an assassin to dispatch her before she could see me simply because he knew we would come across each other. And she told me part of what truly happened the night I killed the king, and I believe what she said.” You pause to inhale a deep breath of air, lungs straining from the sheer amount of air you are trying to force into them. “Captain, I am not looking for you to drop everything for her. The last two living teammates of my team left with her, but she was alone with no knowledge of where they are or if they are even alive.”

“Why waste time thinking of the dead?”

“Why forget about them when there is even the slightest chance they’re alive?” You counter. You don’t intend to sound so inflamed about the topic, but the heat resides in your tone and burns the tense air hanging between you and the captain. His jaw shifts. “I would be content even if you could only promise that I have a way to deliver information about them back to her if possible. I know you have contacts here on Dorado.”

“And I suppose you’ve come up with an entire escape plan as well?”

“I — no, I hadn’t thought of that. To be honest, I’m not even sure she wants to be saved, but that could only be because she doesn’t see a way out.”

“You have a knack for wanting to save people who don’t want to be saved. You and Seonghwa are similar in that matter, but there comes a time where you must realize you can’t be everyone’s savior.”

“What do you mean by that?”

One corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks upwards, and he arches a brow to match the movement.

“Is it really that hard to figure out? The pardon papers, to begin with, the whole reason you even met the crew. Did you think I had no clue of what your intentions were on that military ship? Especially when my intentions were the same? Imagine my surprise when I arrived in the captain’s cabin to learn you had taken them already.”

“Why did you hold off on that information all this time?” You had been convinced at the time that it was for no other reason than to cause a bit of chaos and steal some cargo. But to find out that Hongjoong had the same goal? What’s his play here?

“I no longer need those papers so it would have been futile to mention them before now. They were meant to be a bargaining chip for the client I met on Echidna, but seeing as he is dead and gone… hardly important, no? But that’s beside the point — your intentions are what we’re discussing. Who were those papers meant for? Had they been for you, you wouldn’t still be lingering around the crew like this, would you? I think you imagined you would be able to save Jisung in some way with them.”

“Hardly!” You sneer back, clutching blindly at your chest as though to find the spot where you used to hide those papers. They aren’t there anymore, you know that, and yet you still ball a fist around the fabric over your chest. “They were never meant for him, but I didn’t imagine this was the kind of person he would turn out to be!”

“Then they were meant for this girl you came across? One of the other two who are missing? Or perhaps was it another, who is no longer present? What is it you think death really is, Y/N? Why do you keep clinging to someone who is no longer alive? What good does pardoning him do?”

You have no response or defense. Nothing you say will appease Hongjoong; you believe that with every fiber of your being, and the way he is staring you down currently offers no relief.

“You see, Y/N,” Hongjoong starts as he pushes up off his seat. He stays up on the platform with his chair, looming over you with the height of the stairs to his advantage, and now there’s a special glint to his gaze that leaves you transfixed. “Your issue that when it comes time to make a difficult decision, when push comes to shove, you turn tail and run. If I had given you a single key last night and told you that you had the power to release one person in the brig, who would you have chosen?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Who would you have chosen?” Hongjoong persists, stepping further into your space.

“What are you trying to get at? I gave my answer already. It would be Seonghwa, and that’s that.”

“And if it had been before the conversation we shared before you went into the brig?”

“It never would have been Jisung,” you snap back.

“All he had to say was ‘I’ll take you to San’ and you would have released him without a second thought.”

Fuck.

Fuck. You have to clench your jaw to keep from exhaling your frustration, but it only highlights your annoyance.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t, because I know he would have given up that information eventually, Y/N.” Hongjoong’s gaze is anything but smug and gloating — if anything he’s regarding you with no emotion at all. It’s still enough to cause you to drop your chin to your chin and huff out a mirthless laugh.

“Is this the part where you say caring is weakness?”

“No, I would be quite the hypocrite if I said that. I’m telling you that you have to accept the fact that there are people who cannot be saved. Whether that’s because they do not wish to be saved or because it is impossible to save them. Let yourself care about people; that’ll keep you alive. But caring too much? There’s your weakness.”

“That’s bold of you to say, is it not? Where’s the line then, Captain? When it becomes love?”

“Love? Love is a concept made by weak people for those with even weaker wills.”

And when Hongjoong breathes those words, you almost believe them. Face value, meaningless terms such as love — what good have they ever done you? You and Seonghwa never loved each other, not truly at least because otherwise, things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did. Your memories tell you that Jisung loved you in some sense at one point but what did that do? Cause him to have a psychotic break? Cause you to ruin the only good you had in your life?

You hate the image that comes to the forefront of your mind. The memory that accompanies it is almost more painful.

“But I just feel like I’m broken glass that’s been put back together the wrong way.”

“Then I’ll take you apart and put you back together the right way.”

You clench a fist by your side, squeezing the skin around your knuckles in a way that has your nail digging into it. It does nothing to will away the dimpled smile in your mind, nor does it make your breathing come any easier, but Hongjoong continues on and offers enough distraction for you to ground yourself.

“Depending on how today and tomorrow go, I will consider our options and what’s possible for your friend. But I will not risk the safety of my crew again.”

“What happens once San and Mingi are back?” You inquire, head tilting naturally to the side. “Do you plan to kill Jisung and be done with it or…?”

Hongjoong’s initial response is a firm shake of his head.

“We’re already weak and spread thin as it is. I can’t risk endangering the crew further by starting a war between Jisung’s crew and ours.”

“Jisung won’t just leave if you ask him to.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to the side, a hasty and clever avoidance of your stare as he finds purchase on some dent in the wall.

“Yunho and I did some talking last night… about the serum and how it works.”

“Is that your definition of pillow talk?” You scoff. Hongjoong jerks his head back in your direction and settles a sharp glare on you that holds little actual anger to it.

“Jisung knows a lot about it and how it works. Yunho hopes to be able to get some information out of him once he’s back with the others. We still have leftover vials from the Kebos mission. If you wanted, we could administer a dose on Jisung and make him forget all about you.”

“If I wanted,” you echo, pointing a finger at yourself as you emphasize the word.

“If you wish for the choice to be in my hands, then I can be cruel for you. But just as with Seonghwa and his mother, as well as Mingi and his choice to not use the serum, this is something personal. The choice is yours to make as he is your past and not mine.”

“I’ll consider it,” you whisper. The weight of that choice is undeniable even if tempting because of how glorious a revenge it would be to do the same thing he did to you back to him. Just doing it back to him won’t fix what Jisung did to you, however, nor will it bring Hyunwoo back from that empty grave. “You sure are giving me a lot of choices for someone who is supposedly upset at me.”

“Hm, well, you are also not allowed to go back to the brig unsupervised from now on. Does that work for you? Ample punishment?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Punishment is never effective for people like you, Y/N,” Hongjoong retorts. “It doesn’t encourage you to do better because you do not care about having to go through some sort of punishment. Keeping you from going to get san would only make you more likely to go against my orders. You are someone who needs different consequences for your actions. You don’t like being held back or feeling small and powerless? I strip you of what power you imagine yourself to have and hold you back from minute things like going to the brig alone.”

“That’s not true,” you scoff, arms coming up to cross over your chest at the same time.

“Oh? And what if I told you right now that I was disappointed in your actions last night? That I thought I could trust you to not make rash decisions, to think with your head and not your heart? I told you earlier that I still have qualms about how you handled Jisung and what effect that had on Seonghwa. Whatever respect I had for you before then was lost in that moment. You may have a sliver of my trust, but respect? You lack that entirely.”

“Don’t say meaningless things, Captain, it doesn’t suit you.” You bite the words out between gritted teeth. If anything, your show of anger only amuses Hongjoong further. “That means nothing to me, as I said before. Why should I care about your respect?”

“Do you truly mean that, Y/N? People like you thrive off the approval of others. Is that not why you let yourself be entangled with Seonghwa for so long? I wouldn’t expect those feelings of respect to linger if I were you.”

“Do you simply thrive on taunting me?” The counter betrays how stupidly affected you truly are by his statements and questions. And deep down, sure, you know he is absolutely correct in saying all that, and you blatantly ignored a lot of things in favor of latching onto the respect and care Seonghwa provided, but for someone as arrogant as Hongjoong to point it out? You hardly want to agree with him now.

“Follow me.”

You could stand your ground and deny the captain, put on a little tantrum and show your denial, but in the long run, that would only prove Hongjoong right. So, against what you truly want to do, you push your legs into action and trail after Hongjoong when he begins to step away from his chair. Admittedly, you are waiting for the hammer to drop: perhaps he’s bringing you to an airlock and finally knocking you out of it. Nothing happens though, and you are left to glare at the clacking heels of his boots as he leads you further down into the ship. It isn’t until you reach your destination that you realize exactly where Hongjoong has taken you.

It’s a rich form of torture from him, to take you to the brig as though to taunt you with your regrets from last night. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts the hatch and motions for you to enter. At the very least, Jisung’s cell is empty (as expected) and he cannot add to the mockery of your pride and dignity.

The moment your boots hit the floor, the rattling of Seonghwa’s chains resound. Hongjoong follows, hitting louder than you did, then the hatch snaps shut and seals you inside the brig like it’s your doomsday.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa calls out. He must have felt the tug in his chest that you did when you hit the floor, the tiniest bit of connection holding the two of you together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Wooyoung perhaps felt the same just now.

Instead of finding you, however, Seonghwa is forced to greet Hongjoong first as the captain rounds the corner before you do.

“Joong…” Seonghwa starts, trailing off as he sees you standing just past the captain’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately; he approaches Seonghwa’s cell and reaches a small hand between the bars to catch hold of his lieutenant’s chin. His grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide Seonghwa’s face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“What was it you told me last night after I dismissed Y/N?”

“…I would not repeat it in front of her, Captain.”

“You said you were scared. You were afraid of what you saw in her right then, that’s what you said. Was it not?”

“I — it was, yes, but I—"

“You told me that you saw a direct reflection of yourself in her. The version of yourself that you fear and hate the most. Did you or did you not say that?”

“Please, Hongjoong, is this not cruel?” Seonghwa begs. He doesn’t budge from Hongjoong’s grasp but he spares a few darting glances your way as he speaks. Hongjoong follows his line of sight to land on where you’re standing several feet away.

“This is a lesson in obedience for you, Y/N. You want to be feared? Fine, go out and be feared by our enemies. But your own crew should never be afraid of you. How do you expect them to trust something they fear?”

You clench your fists by your side. White-hot anger swells in your chest.

“That’s unfair. Do you say the same thing to Mingi?” You snap back, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look at Seonghwa.

“You are not Mingi, Y/N. Far from it actually. And as such I will not have my crew fear you or what you might do. You don’t care for my disappointment or respect? So be it. But I hope you dwell on the knowledge that Seonghwa, the man who knows you possibly better than anyone else on the crew, who has been with you intimately, laid with you in the most vulnerable positions possible, a man who has put his life and well-being in your hands, was afraid of you because of your actions last night.” Hongjoong’s fingers curl a little harder under Seonghwa’s chin, and the captain returns to staring the chained man in the eye when he speaks next. “I asked one thing of you last night, Y/N, and you promised to uphold it.”

“I am willing to trust you with this and with Seonghwa, at least for now. Take care to remember that, especially when it comes to Seonghwa’s heart. For if you mislead him in the slightest, there will be hell to pay.”

“Instilling fear into my lieutenant’s heart was a poor choice on your part.”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t choose to do that!”

“The ice under your feet is quickly cracking, Y/N, so I suggest you take great care with your next words and actions. Otherwise, I will make certain that your only purpose here is to be nothing but a key to my treasure.”

“Hongjoong, don’t you dare sa—”

His hold on Seonghwa disappears in a quick shove, the chains around Seonghwa’s neck rattling as he moves with the push. The lieutenant falls silent in an instant, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though to keep himself from fighting back. Your fists tighten by your sides but you don’t dare move when Hongjoong’s glare is so full of animosity that it could burn you from across the room.

“Be prepared to leave within the next thirty minutes before I change my mind about bringing you on this mission. The others will return soon.”

“Y/N — Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pushes himself up enough to stretch a hand through the bar and catch the end of Hongjoong’s coat tail. “Do not do this, please, this is far from what I wanted! You promised to protect her and—”

“And I am still protecting her. As long as she remains useful.”

“H-He, Y/N, he doesn’t — he’s not… that’s not what he means!”

“If you wish me to be your perfectly silent little weapon, Captain, then so be it,” you spit, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas. Hongjoong yanks his jacket free of the man’s grasp and steps out of his reach. “But only because I benefit from this too. When it comes time for me to uphold my end of the bargain to Jisung, don’t expect me to be as willing to stay in your care.”

“Y/N, no, no, no—”

“You don’t get to talk, Seonghwa, not when you were the first to let me go.” That stops the lieutenant in his tracks because he knows you have him pinned there. Still, his jaw works in a hapless rhythm that leaves him with stuttering breaths and small noises of frustration.

“That was — that was before I-I knew what he was like, Y/N.”

“I won’t have this conversation in front of an audience, Seonghwa,” you mutter. It’s moreso an attempt to save yourself from the all too painful clench in your chest. If either man before you notices that, they opt not to comment on it, but Hongjoong gives a small shake of his head.

“Then you have thirty minutes to have it now. You had best be at the west airlock by then,” he says just before shoving past you with nothing more than a tiny glance back at Seonghwa. You are of half a mind to follow him out without a word, to leave Seonghwa where he is because you have been avoiding this exact conversation, but you can’t get your legs to function even after the hatch to the brig falls shut behind Hongjoong when he exits.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, Y/N, and you don’t—”

“That’s not the issue here, Seonghwa,” you interject before he can finish the thought. The next sound to leave his lips is a laugh but it sounds so heartless and void of life that guilt twinges in your chest.

“Is it because I said I was afraid of you? Or has your heart finally grown cold towards me as I expected it to from the start?”

“Don’t say that.” You intend for the words to come out with venom, but they sound more like a heartbroken plea than anything else. Seonghwa licks the edges of his dry and cracking lips. “Do you think I’m so cruel?”

“It… no, Y/N, I don’t. It’s because I don’t that I think it’s only a matter of time.” Seonghwa forces a hand up to curl into his dark locks, tugging at the strands at best he can as his chains rattle around him. “I think your heart is too big for your chest, just like San. And even if it was not my intention, I think I used that against you in many ways.”

“I was the one who initiated things, Seonghwa. I asked you to… to have sex with me and distract me. I used you to start with, so I know I carry blame as well.”

“I still pushed you even though I knew how much San means to you.”

“That…” You trail off only because emotion lodges so deep in your throat that it hurts. Swallowing it back down hurts even more, but you manage it without more than a grimace. “At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant or what he meant to me. Even now, I don’t think I fully grasp what my feelings are towards him. That doesn’t mean — I never resented you, and I still don’t.”

“Separation has the power to make us realize things we were blind to,” Seonghwa mutters back. “It made me realize I was unfair to you, even after I promised I would not have you unfairly.”

“I didn’t think it to be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“Why are you so desperate to be a martyr?”

“Why won’t you accept that I wronged you?”

“Do you want me to hate you?” You fire back, taking a quick step in Seonghwa’s direction. He straightens some and pulls himself to his knees.

“I don’t know how to fix the places where I went wrong. I… I wish to hear them from you if only to know that you know what I did wrong, or — or just understand that it’s not merely my mind trying to trick me.” Seonghwa looks weak again: pressed on his knees in a way that must hurt, head hanging to hide his eyes, fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. As confident and strong as he sounds, his posture only reads weakness.

“I never thought about it, Seonghwa,” you admit through the breath of silence that follows. “Perhaps we were both blind to it at the time because we — well, I thought you were all I had. I didn’t know what Wooyoung was at the time, I didn’t ever have another Siren in my life, and you were the first person I had with who I could share that burden. I understand withholding information about Wooyoung’s identity from the others, but why me? Especially given that you all knew there was some sort of connection between us. You still held that back from me until there was no more avoiding it. And you did the same with your… relationship with Hongjoong, and I’m not one to be jealous or demanding, but if you still loved him — and I think we both know how you feel about him even now — then I wish you had said that. I should have told you how I felt about San at the time as well, especially as I began to realize it more and more.”

“I would have told you about Wooyoung in an instant, I promise you that much, Y/N. If it had been my place, I would never have let you believe we were alone in that way. But Wooyoung was never ready to tell you until he didn’t have a choice any longer.”

“And as for your lingering feelings towards Hongjoong?”

“I should have told you sooner, yes. I truly believed… I didn’t imagine those feelings were still lingering until I was faced with almost losing him.” Seonghwa at last shifts his pathetic stance, folding his legs under his body until he’s in a more comfortable sitting position.

“When we talked about me leaving with Jisung, and — Seonghwa, you didn’t hesitate to say that your fate is to die at Hongjoong’s side. I just wanted you to ask me to stay. But you didn’t ask me to, and your first reaction wasn’t to do that either. You’ll never be mine, Seonghwa. Not completely, and… right now, in this present we’re living in, I don’t think you can ask me to be okay with that. If you love both of us, then so be it. I see no fault in that, and I’m not trying to say you are at fault for it either, but that moment hurt more than I think you realize.”

“Then I apologize,” he whispers. He lifts his chin just a hair, enough to look you in the eye and enough for you to see the steely resolution in his gaze.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I believe there I need to apologize for many things. But primarily, I led you to believe I would be wholly yours knowing — knowing that I would never be able to give you that. Y/N, I did not lie to you once about how I felt. Even if my previous promises were empty in your eyes, please know I am genuine in saying that.”

“I’m sorry too, for not realizing my feelings sooner and leading you in a different direction all the while.”

“I have to respectfully disagree, Y/N.” Seonghwa smiles a little, although it’s a sad little grin that’s tight-lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t lead me on, from my point of view. As you said, until Wooyoung’s revelation, you thought I was all you had. I think it was only natural for us to pursue each other on a physical level in that way. Feelings were bound to get complicated eventually. I knew they would because that’s how it was with Hongjoong so I… should have known earlier on.” Seonghwa lets out a shaky sigh. The smile crumbles and leaves no trace behind, only drifting into a thin line. “San cares about you a lot, Y/N, and I wish for you to have someone like him who can give you his all.”

“Bold of you to give such advice when you and Hongjoong continue to dance around each other,” you whisper through a grin. Either the words or the warmth of your tone bring a genuine huff of laughter out of Seonghwa’s chest.

“It’s what we do best. Yunho is good for him in lots of ways. He needs someone who can fuck with no strings attached and without feelings getting in the way of things. Yunho loves all of us in different ways, and how that love manifests is different for everyone as well. I cannot fault him for comforting Hongjoong the only way Hongjoong knows how.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, but the smile persists, and it looks more like he’s visiting an old memory somewhere in the back of his mind rather than that he is in pain. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N. You should focus on getting San back and making sure he does not slip through your fingers this time.”

“I think I’ll always worry about you, pretty boy.” You hate how fragile your tone is; there’s too much of a tremor to it, and you sound far too sad for the smile painting your lips.

“Always is a long time, princess.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t mind always.” Seonghwa hums. It’s a content and pleased little sound, nothing indecent, yet his lips tremble even as he pushes his tongue between his teeth. If his eyes were open, you’re confident you would see red rimming his irises and clear tears ready to fall.

There is nothing left to say for now: maybe at some point in the future this is a conversation to revisit and resurrect, but now it’s final in a bittersweet sense. The feeling of walking away this time hurts more than it usually would, although you think you might be able to feel the ache in Seonghwa’s chest without being Sirens. There’s no use in wondering if he feels the ache in yours — the line between his pain and yours is a thin and blurring one, overlapping and twisting together with two threads of different colors. And if Seonghwa has always been a fire in your eyes, then his would be a bright red thread that twists around your finger and keeps you linked to him even as you leave the brig.

The time to feel sad and mourn the loss of whatever feelings lingered between you and Seonghwa is far from now. Perhaps that is cruel torture in and of itself. To lose the chance to mourn is something you think you’re familiar with, but there’s no guarantee that those memories are real. So instead of crying or letting the pain swell, you merely bite down hard on the tip of your tongue until that ache moves elsewhere. It’s enough for now; the thought of what your next mission is and how important it is chases all other thoughts away.

San has been gone long enough.

You’ll take him back if it’s the last thing you do.

“Y/N!”

That voice tears you free of the thoughts plaguing you, and you jolt to a halt in the middle of the hallway you’re currently standing in to find the source of the voice. There’s a flash of black before you. Panic thrums in your nerves, a quick fear that you might be under attack, but then something warm hits you. It’s like a wave, washing over your insides and dispelling that fear as quickly as it appeared.

“Wooyoung,” you exhale just before your eyes settle on his bright and smiling face.

“Mingi’s back, they got Mingi back! They’re coming in the airlock now, let’s go!” Wooyoung grins from ear to ear, the smile splitting his cheeks and making his face glow with joy. You let him grab hold of your wrist without complaint, and he tugs you further down the corridor. “They said he’s okay. Healthy too. Safe. He’s safe. They healed his wound at the warehouse to prep for his treatment, but Jongho and Yeosang got to him before they could hurt him any.”

“One step closer to having to leave,” you murmur, moreso to yourself than to the man before you. He picks up on the words nonetheless, and his hurried steps slow to a dragging walking pace that has you regretting opening your mouth.

“What?” He asks. The smile falls into a deep-seated frown, and you hate it. You hate it so much. The idea of leaving them like this, even if Hongjoong swore not to let you go, you don’t see any other way for this to end peacefully. The only way for everyone involved to come out of this safe and in one piece is for you to go along with your deal with Jisung.

“Nothing,” you whisper. Wooyoung tightens his fingers around your wrist.

“No, what do you mean by that? Having to leave?”

“Oh, come on, Wooyoung,” you laugh through your teeth. “Did you think there was no cost for getting the three of you back? Let’s just go see Mingi. We don’t need to talk about this now.” You try to pull your arm free of Wooyoung’s grip to no avail. All he does is yank you back to face him when you step around his body.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to, Wooyoung. He wasn’t going — he wouldn’t have helped us find you without a price.”

“And the price was you?” Wooyoung cries, loud enough to echo off the metal around your forms. “He doesn’t get to own you, Y/N!”

“It’s not ownership. I’ll go along with him long enough to — to figure something out, then I’ll leave and—”

“And what? You think a man like that will just let you leave?”

“Look, Wooyoung, I knew what I was getting into. I agreed to it myself because I wanted to and because it was the closest thing to a guarantee of your safety, as well as San’s and Mingi’s. If this is the price for your lives, then so be it. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is. He’ll get my fist put through his throat for even thinking about it,” Wooyoung hisses, nose scrunching up as his face contorts into a scowl. You have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Too fucking bad.” Wooyoung shoves your arm down with a huff. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s rushing back down the hall, continuing your path from earlier and moving so quickly that you have to jog to catch up to him.

“You’re mad at me for saving your life?” You retort to his back. It does nothing to stop him, and the only reaction you get out of him at first is the tension in his shoulders. “As I recall, you threw yourself down for San and Mingi while captured!”

“That was to fucking protect all of us! I knew what I was doing, I knew I would be safe, and I knew they couldn’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself, Y/N.” Wooyoung reels on you just before turning the corner at the end of the corridor. The rage in his expression is more than you can handle, much more intense than you imagined it would be. “We may be similar — we might have pieces of our pasts that line up and mirror each other. But don’t think for a fucking second that I’m supposed to roll over and let you do what I would do. I’m stupid, I’m a fucking idiot, I’ll take whatever punishment I think I can to protect people, and I always fucking go too far. You are going too far. And I refuse to let some asshole with a god complex pretend like he has the power to own another human being. You might be okay with the idea of it, you might think it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be, but as for me? I refuse to let you lose your freedom. I will put myself on the line any day before I let anything happen to this crew.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you struggle to come up with a counterattack. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for you to figure one out either; he returns to his stampede down the hall and leaves you to play catch up once more. And admittedly, by the time you do catch up, there is nothing you could possibly do to keep him from reaching his end goal. Someone opens their mouth to greet him, but you don’t even have time to process whose voice it is before they’re cut short by Wooyoung’s next move.

“Wooyo—”

Wooyoung’s knee careens into a body and hits so hard that body crumples in half. It’s only when Wooyoung threads his fingers through dark hair and yanks upwards that you catch who exactly it is. Jisung stumbles with the motions, chains rattling and shaking as he does. Wooyoung gives him only a second to catch his breath before he’s shoving Jisung face first into the metal wall.

“Hi there,” Wooyoung huffs with another tug to Jisung’s scalp. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting officially yet. You’ve been quite lucky to be in the care of such merciful people.”

“You can’t possibly be the mongrel Y/N has been so distressed about, can you?” Jisung spits over his shoulder. Wooyoung grins wide at that, cheeks pressing upwards and eyes turning to half-moons.

“No.” Another harsh shove and Jisung’s head bounces against the wall. “No, Jisung, I’m the man who is going to make you regret every second of life you’ve had if you even think about laying another finger on her.”

You tug your stare off the pair to glance around, mostly in search of Mingi, and as Wooyoung said, the Berserker does seem relatively safe and unharmed. Almost like he wasn’t even gone aside from a fading bruise on his cheekbone. He’s got one hand balled into a fist and the other tucked into the safety of Jongho’s palm. It’s not enough of a guarantee that he’s okay mentally and emotionally, but at least seeing him visibly alright is reassuring in and of itself. Yeosang stands close to Hongjoong, unmoving and staring forward at Wooyoung without trying to stop him. Hongjoong himself doesn’t do anything either, and you realize then that this is a moment of retribution for all of them in some way. Even me, you think as Jisung writhes under Wooyoung’s tightening grip.

“Get in line then,” he manages to hiss, even if it’s muffled by the wall. “These three dumbasses already left me with many colorful threats the entire way back here.”

“Oh, I will, but you should be aware that there is one person at the end of that line who will end your life in a heartbeat for even thinking you could own Y/N. And he’s about to come back to this very ship that you’re trapped on. So how about you start barking again and see what happens?”

Hongjoong finally pulls forward, and when he does, he wears a wide smile and folds his arms over his chest. He only steps forward enough to lurk just past Wooyoung’s shoulder, standing with a slight tilt so he can look at Jisung out the corner of his eye.

“Checkmate, Han. Let’s see what good your dogs can do with their king backed into a corner.”

✧✧✧ a/n: oakyoakyokayokayo so admittedly i ended up splitting this chapter up and moving the second half of it to the NEXT chapter bc yeah this one would have been over 20k if i didn’t whoopsie! but here we are lots of talking ! in this one, the action comes in the next one bc of the way i shifted things so eheheheh :3 the next might comes sooner than usual we shall see ;) as always ! let me know what u think n how u feel !

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @icekdy @eggteez @bangtanxberm @uglychildd @lucymultistan @revehosh @choistan @vampyrejimin @unminuit @vitaminkel-c

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

[8:55 pm] - Pt. 2 (happy)

Pairings: Taeyong x Reader

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), violence (hitting), angst

Synopsis:

‘when he hurts you’ boyfriend drabble

a misunderstanding escalates to something more, what will happen to their relationship??

(note: this is just a character, i trust that Taeyong would never use violence)

Tag list: @popsuhcle @ne0yong

Part 1

It had been almost a week since Taeyong was able to get in touch with you, and although he was desperate to, he didn’t try very hard. He didn’t seem to have the time nor the will too.

It had been almost a week when Doyoung showed up at your door.

By the look on his face he was more than drained by the constant work and practice he was putting into their next comeback. You couldn’t even imagine what Taeyong looked like. He always seemed to show his wear and tear the most.

“Doyoung?”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Y/N, hi.” There was a pause, as if he was regretting coming here. “Can I come in?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not even realising that he was still standing in the doorway. Stepping away, you gestured for him to enter, taking notice of his heavy steps.

You offered him a glass of water and seat, which he gladly took, glancing with pitiful eyes in your direction. You weren’t dumb, you knew why he was here.

“Taeyong….” He started slowly, gauging your reaction, continuing only when he was sure that you weren’t going to kick him out. “I think you should talk to him, he’s not doing well.”

A frown flitted over your face, “What do you mean he’s not doing well?”

Doyoung just shook his head, “I don’t know much about what happened between you two, Taeyong wouldn’t tell me anything, but I know that whatever it is, it’s taking a toll on the both of you.”

He glanced at your appearance, and you tightened your jacket over your shirt.

But any guilt or hurt quickly caved to anger, “Why should I be the one to reach out first? He was in the wrong and if he can’t talk to me… if he has to go through you… I don’t think that he’s really trying very hard.”

“I’m not going to defend him, because I don’t know what happened, but… he really does care about you. He’s just stressed and overwhelmed right now.”

You cast your eyes downwards, fumbling with your sleeves. “That doesn’t make it okay.” You mumbled out.

Doyoung was silent for a while.

“I know.”

He heaved a sigh, standing up from his seat with his hands in his pockets. “If you do want to talk it out, Taeyong’s been locked up in his studio for the past week. You’ll know where to find him.”

You shut your eyes tightly, jumping slightly as the soft slam of the door. A wave of guilt washed over you. Things had gotten out of hand then, it wasn’t like it was all his fault, you had egged him on. After all it takes two to tango.

You groaned, flopping onto the couch and throwing your arm over your face, heart already decided.

The familiar brown door stared back at you, as if testing you. You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there, hand growing tired with the bad full of food, dangling with a heavy presence.

Was this a bad idea? Would things end up like they did last time?

Your thoughts teased you, caving into your irrational thoughts.

“Y/N?”

Your breath caught in your throat as his familiar voice startled you from behind.

“Oh.”

Taeyong scratched the back of his head nervously, eyes unable to reach yours, not that you were trying.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.”

A lie.

“Oh.”

He gestured to the door and moved to open it for the two of you, standing beside it as you entered first.

The room was a mess.

For someone as cleanly and perfectionist as Taeyong was, you couldn’t believe your eyes. There were empty take out containers, heaps of clothes from long nights stuck there, papers strewn over every possible surface.

Your face scrunched in guilt. This wasn’t like him at all.

As if he realized, or had seen your expression, he quickly moved to shoved things off, making room for you to sit, which hesitantly took.

A moment of awkward silence later you cleared your throat. “Here, uh.. I brought you breakfast. I didn’t think that you had eaten yet.”

There was a smile plastered on his face, but it wasn’t real. It didn’t reach his eyes the way that you were used to.

“Thanks, yeah I’m starving.” But all the while he took his food, his eyes never left yours.

Instinctively you gulped, pulling away. You wrung your hands at the awkward air that settled over the room.

“Can we talk?”

Taeyong tensed at the question as he played with the straps of the bag.

“Yeah.”

He sunk into the seat across from you, running his hand over his face in distress.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you first… about uh… the other day.”

Your mouth stayed shut, but your eyes begged him to continue.

“Look, I… I fucked up. Like really bad. First of all, I should never, never have laid a hand on you. If there’s one thing that I regret… ever is that. It was unwarranted and no one, especially you deserves to be treated like that. You have every right in the world to be upset and angry, and I would too, if I were you.”

He paused to breathe, weary of your reaction. You stayed silent to let him continue.

“If you would let me explain what you saw too… I promise you that it’s nothing like what you thought it was.”

He took a deep breath continuing when you let him. “That… She’s a sound producer that SM is using right now, and she’s been really trying to bounce ideas off of me. I promise that it’s nothing more than that. And the picture… it’s not like I chose it, apple does that stupid thing, you know, where it automatically updates the contact.”

Taeyong sighed, not willing to look back at you in case you didn’t agree with his excuses.

Little did he know you were doing the same. Communication. That’s all that was needed and all of this could’ve been avoided. If you weren’t so stubborn and actually willing to listen to an explanation, your relationship would’ve never been in this mess.

“No, I’m sorry.” Taeyong whipped his head to find your eyes. “I was stubborn and upset and… there were a lot of emotions going on. I handled it horribly, and it’s no wonder things went horribly wrong. Yes, what you did was wrong, but it would’ve never gotten that far if I just listened-”

“Stop it. You keep painting yourself in this way. Like you’re the cause of everything, like it was a domino effect. But let’s be real, it was both of our faults. If we can… learn and grow from this, as people and partners…”

You smiled at him, “I’m sorry.” He tried to interrupt. “No, just let me say that one more time. I am… really sorry. And… I love you so goddamn much.”

“Not more than I love you.”

You found yourself pressed against his chest, wrapped between his familiar arms.

You let it last for a couple more moments before you pulled back. “Let’s get this place cleaned up, it literally looks like a dump, and that’s not an exaggeration.”

His face screwed up in agreement, “Yeah… I’ve uh been stressing a lot. You noticed?”

You smacked his chest playfully at the comment.

“Oh, and don’t think that I’m not gonna make up for our anniversary date. I’ve been working on my present for months now, you are not leaving without it.”

You didn’t think that your smile could get any wider.

Part 1

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terrm9 · 3 years

Text

The Fourteenth (II.)

I got a request asking if I could share the Pi Day fic here and look, I am totally aware of the fact that I said I am done posting so if you want to call me a hypocrite (I am looking at you, person who keeps sending those awful anons) - go on. I will post it under the cut and I won’t tag anyone, so hopefully it won’t bother anyone all that much.

WC ~ 1200

“Can I make you dinner tonight?” he asked Chiara in the morning, the moment Harper and Tobias left the office. He half-expected her to tease him for being a gentleman even this deep into the relationship, but instead she smiled widely and nodded.

There’s no reason for him to be this nervous. He has given the idea many of his thoughts, he even asked for an advice - all would be well. There was no need to be this nervous.

And things have been going well.

“As if I could say no to your food.”

The day passed calmly and really, there has been no reason for Ethan to be nervous.

He took her home, cooked a dinner – all while feeling her gaze on him, feeling, seeing her smile, a spark in her eyes almost mischievous and she said: “This is my favorite Ethan.”

“The cooking one?” he threw her a glance over his shoulder, the right corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“The one with his sleeves rolled up.”

And now he is standing in the entrance of his apartment, Chiara waiting at the dining table and Ethan can only guess, but he thinks her eyebrows are still raised up in an unspoken question – what is going on?

He asked her to wait for him right there and left the apartment to get an apple pie from the trunk of his car.

He is standing by the doorway and he is nervous. Nervous about the gesture he is going to make, nervous about Chiara’s reaction, nervous, nervous, nervous.

Taking his surrounding in, there is another collection of thoughts swirling through his mind all at once and these thoughts do not make him nervous.

They do make him feel many unrequired emotions, though.

It is stupid, the thought crossing his mind – this feels like coming home.

Of course it feels like coming home, of course it does. He has lived at this place for years now.

And yet only now, seeing her small white sneakers put neatly next to his own shoes, her coat hanging on the wall, her smell lingering in the entrance, it feels like home.

Like maybe, perhaps, he has been coming back to an apartment until this moment.

It is stupid, the thought crossing his mind – I am finally coming home.

It is the best thought he has had in a long, long while.

The apple pie in his hand – the best in whole Boston, recommended by Naveen and approved by Marlene - Ethan walks into the dining room.

His guess has been right – Chiara’s eyebrows were still higher than normally, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey Chiara,” he cleared his throat as he approached the table and put the pie on it. “Do you know what is Pi’s wife most used complaint? ‘He is irrational and goes on and on.’”

Confusion crosses Chiara’s beautiful features first, but almost immediately she checks her phone for a date and the confusion is replaced by realization.

Chiara has never been the one to school her features, to hide her emotions – and so Ethan can see all of them, all of her thoughts displayed on her face and he thinks there is nothing he would rather stare at.

Surprise and then that small, almost invisible smile that carries more than any of her wide grins. She bites her bottom lip and blinks several times rapidly and Ethan is so damn nervous because is she going to cry? Did he make her sad? Did he cross a line?

“You remembered,” she whispers at last.

“Yes,” Ethan nods and starts cutting the pie, just to give his hands something to do. The atmosphere it not exactly tense, but it’s quiet – at least until Chiara’s snicker cuts through the room, earning a surprised glance from Ethan.

“That joke was terrible,” she keeps on laughing and Ethan can feel his shoulders sag with relief. “I have to send it to mom and Alicia.”

Clearing his throat once again, Ethan speaks, his voice smaller than he’d like.

“I already sent it to them. I asked Lahela for an advice and he thought it was a good idea and I know he knows your family rather well, so I trusted him that he knows what he is saying,” he is speaking fast, words slightly slurred and it’s obvious that he is nervous, he can say that much, but letting the explanation out of his system is more important at the moment.

“I am not trying to replace your father or your brother, Chiara, please, I would never dare to think such a thing, I just wanted to maybe bring this tradition of yours back and-“

He is stopped by Chiara’s soft, small hands on his cheeks – when did she even get to him? – and quickly, she is pulling him down, closer to her until her lips, as soft as her hands (everything about her is soft, her skin and her hair and all the places he has touched – soft, soft, soft), are on his and he forgets what he wanted to say altogether.

She moves her lips gently but with a goal, biting his lower lip – gentle at that, too – until his lips are parted and she can kiss him deeper, better, with more passion and all the love she has to give.

When Chiara breaks the kiss, Ethan is breathing heavily, but her hands do not leave his cheeks. The thumb of her right hand caress his cheekbone with such care it makes his heart swell beneath the ribcage and her left hand finds its refuge in the subtle waves on the nape of his neck.

“Everything about this is perfect,” she whispers as she stands on her toes to place a lingering kiss on a corner of his mouth again, following the path to his nose and finally kissing the cheekbone she is not holding.

“Thank you,” she looks up at him and it’s simple thank you, a phrase used many times through the day, by many people, the phrase that barely carries any real meaning.

Looking into her emerald irises, her pupils so wide he almost catches a glimpse of himself in them, cheeks rosy and smile affectionate, with her hand still tangled in his hair, Ethan knows, feels, that this thank you carries more meaning than he could have hoped for.

He feels as if the universe – his universe, at least – was expanding by the gaze Chiara gifts him, as if he could drown in the ocean of emotions she is showing him (Thank you. I trust you. I see you and I believe in you. I am proud of you and I know you are of me. I love you, I love you, I love you.) and he has never given much of his thoughts to the way he’d die but at this moment Ethan knows that drowning in Chiara would be the most prodigious way to go.

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan x chiara #open heart fic

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anonthenullifier · 3 years

Note

Alright, my headcanon/prompt that's been living in my mind rent free is the idea that Vision doesn't buy Wanda flowers, he buys her vases with sprouts on them, new life ready to grow. When he first heard of people gifting each other flowers he didn't fully understand why you would kill something, and make your loved one watch it slowly wilt away, when you could get them something they'd help survive. After watching so many loved ones die, I just think Wanda would be really touched to help something live and grow (just like her love for him blossoming)

I love this head canon so much. So damn much! I’ve written a story before (It’s About Thyme) that has them planting a garden and nurturing it as a way to mirror their relationship so to say I like to think about them with plants is an understatement. And then your gorgeous head canon looks at it in a way I never thought about and it’s perfect. Thank you for sharing it!

Here’s a little fic that came to mind as I was reading your ask. I hope you like it!

—

To say Vision is perplexed would be an understatement. Which is itself surprising because he has come to a tentative theory that to be human is to be irrational, and yet this, this crosses a line of reasoning he cannot begin to fathom. Typically he would have Wanda here to volley his concerns towards and to then explain in however many examples and phrasings that it takes for him to understand. Except he is here covertly, under the expert opinion of Sam, to procure a token of affection for all that Wanda provides him. Which brings him to a standstill of indecision waltzing along with a niggling horror at all the implications.

Luckily for him, he hopes, there is a sales associate close by. “Pardon me?” The man turns towards him, brown apron emblazoned with stitched on daisies and a name tag that reads Samuel, a fitting name since the other Samuel in Vision’s life suggested this course of questionable action. “I was advised that purchasing and gifting flowers is a socially appropriate way to convey affection.”

Samuel’s eyes squint for half a second, a common reaction whenever Vision goes out in public. “Uh, yeah. What does your special um,” this scanning over of Vision’s body is also common, uncomfortable, but he does his best to act unperturbed otherwise it might stoke potential fear into ire from his observer, “individual like? We’ve got roses, carnations, lilies, daisies, asters. Anything float your boat?”

If this decision were a boat it would be taking on waves at the moment. “But all of these have been removed from their roots.”

“Yeah, kinda the whole point of making a bouquet.”

The sass is not appreciated but Vision believes in remaining polite because the attitude of the man could be compounded with mistreatment from other customers or negative life events and not solely due to Vision’s inquiry. “Does that not mean they will wilt and die?”

Samuel does not share the distaste for this thought, a simple shrug and a rather unhelpful piece of advice given, “They all come with flower food, helps them stay fresh a bit longer.”

“I see.” Vision determines this issue may be best cogitated alone, so he sends a polite, tight lipped smile towards the man, “Thank you, Samuel.”

“Yep.”

The man leaves and Vision continues his stare down with the beautifully variegated display case in front of him. The differing colors and petal shapes form a kaleidoscope of awe, one that feels romantic and wispy and desirable. Except they will all wilt, the petals will curl up and fall to the ground, and within a week it will be in the trash. His love is not so brief, so fragile and he is perplexed as to why he would present Wanda with a token that cannot survive. Would it not imply his love will fade? That he will, even if fed her own love and passion and attention, eventually fall away from her? Even if she were to dry them out, like he has seen Laura do at the Barton farmhouse, it would require her to keep them someplace safe and to never touch them, the lifeless remnants too delicate and brittle for anything other than distant observation—a poor metaphor for his intended message.

Wanda has endured so much already, the memories as vivid as the Tiger Lily in front of him, days of listlessness and tears, evenings brimming over with invasive memories of all the deaths and all the pain, the only salves he could offer were strong arms and gentle reassurances. Why would he gift her something that will also die? Provide a further suggestion that her life must always be dictated by loss? Why would anyone, rational or not, believe temporal brevity a better show of love than something lasting?

Vision turns away from the bouquets, prepared to leave the store and find somewhere quiet to reassess his gift. It is this defeated swivel that brings a small display into his view, one tucked away as if it was an afterthought. On it are simple clay pots of various sizes, bags of potting soil heaped on the ground next to it, and a little table top rotating kiosk of seed packets awaiting to be planted and nurtured into a long and beautiful life. Vision’s lips curl up at the new idea in his head.

————

There is a subtle chime to her left, in the general vicinity of her door. It is the closest he ever gets to a knock. Wanda puts her book down and waits for the unmistakable gleam of vibranium and the glow of Vision’s phasing to come through the wall located mere inches from her fully functioning door. “Hey Vizh.”

He pauses, irises twisting rapidly to the left and lips puckered as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Which would be not using her door and yet he still persists and still always makes this face, and it’s a welcome joy in her day. “Good afternoon, Wanda.” Unlike usual, his hands remain behind his back, pulling the threads of his synthetic sweater into a tension similar to his body. “I, um, brought you something.”

Hoping to ease his nerves, she shuffles to the side a bit and then pats the mattress, inviting him to come over and haltingly lower himself to the bed, body remaining twisted to hide whatever it is. “What is it?”

Slowly he brings his arms into view and in his right hand is a clay pot with a little seed packet inside, all wrapped up in a red bow, and in his left is clenched a small bag of soil. Wanda shares her gratitude with a smile, scarlet twining around the gifts and bringing them to her hands to inspect them closer. “I had been informed by a trusted associate that flowers are considered the socially acceptable gift for conveying affection.”

Gently, soothingly she offers a minor correction, knowing he doesn't like to be embarrassed by misinterpreting social advice. “Usually they mean a bouquet.”

A grave nod accompanies his, “I am aware.” Vision lifts his hand, waving it around to help usher out the full story, “But it seemed incongruous to provide you a fleeting gift for a sentiment that is not so,” he hesitates, maybe because he realizes the implication himself or because he can see it in the growing smile on her face, either way he’s committed to the admission of how long he sees this new relationship going and she’s hoping he won’t back down now. And he doesn’t, even if he stammers through it. “brief. I would rather my affections be shown in an appropriately long lasting form.”

Experiencing the fascinating way his mind works is always a pleasure and, due to listening to him and learning the way he thinks and feels, she understands it perfectly, feels a deep, warming thankfulness at this chance to play a hand in allowing something to live and grow, a chance she’s been denied so much before. Wanda ropes him closer with her powers and firmly plants a kiss to his nervous smile. “Thank you.” She unwraps the bow and studies the picture of a happy sunflower, a little confused. “I didn’t think these were indoor plants.”

“Oh well,” now that an explanation that is not tied to emotions is needed, he loosens up, “they are meant to be started and nurtured indoors and then, once large enough, can be moved outside or to a greenhouse.”

“Do we have a greenhouse here?”

Vision considers this, lips parted as his thoughts tick away. “Well no, but it could be enjoyable to convert one of the older equipment sheds into such a structure so we could have a year round garden.”

This simple gift blossoms into something bigger, something rooted in a hope for a future together. “I think it would be fun.”

“Yes,” Vision slips back into a slight, carefully paced cadence, “I selected this particular flower because it is often symbolic of adoration, loyalty and um,” he acts as if his actions have not already made it clear, as if his words should be a surprise, one he isn’t certain she’ll like, “longevity.”

Wanda offers a sunny smile, hoping to sear away any question as to her appreciation and reciprocal feelings, “I love it.” An equally exuberant curve forms on his lips. “Want to help me plant it?”

His instantaneous and joyful, “Of course,” is all it takes to settle them into a path towards a life and love they’ll nurture together.

#scarlet vision #wandavision #Wanda maximoff #vision #mine #ask anon #I was supposed to be writing something else today

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Hi! I have been reading your posts and responses to anonymous and I am inclined to comment on your broadly realistic views and detailed analystic answers and let us not forget your ability to be warm in putting forward your opinions. I am truly a huge fan. Thank you for being a station for various answer seekers.

If you have time and patience, please elaborate on the situation GG is still facing post 227. Recently I read various comments insinuating GG copied DD for Douyin night which is absurd but the implication that only one party is still being targeted unnecessarily raise hackles of a lot of solo fans. And I, under any circumstances, DO NOT believe the involvement of the other party. Firm believer of BJYXSZD.

My point is what is being done to stop these antis from targeting GG. Since one of the motive to target GG is to severe the relationship of GG and DD, IMO at least. Does constant attack (external stimulus) on GG (belittling him by comparing him to DD) may have the possibility to effect their relationship (internal reaction)? Objectively yes, but given your perception of their relationship, what is your opinion in this matter, however subjective it may be?

Moreover, how much extreme and sometimes irrational analysis done by bjyx community can lead to harm to both of them especially GG?

Also, I have seen DD being the captain of BJYX in various circumstances but also throwing off people from their old predicted/maintened theories especially in case of Kadians. I am not sure how much to trust these 'candies' since he has a reputation of not giving a f*** of others opinion. So why would he post GG related or non-related content with same kadians. I mean if he posts private content with GG related kadian then why post promotional content with GG related kadian. Does it imply that kadians are related to GG or not or he doesn't care and we are thinking too much. I am not sure what I am writing now, maybe multitude of thoughts poring out here. I am extremely sorry for that.

I do not know whether people believe or not but 1st post by GG yesterday had initials YB in the circle. Not at all explicit, and depends on believers but I felt like he was just trolling BJYX, it may be good naturedly but after his promotional brand picture of shrimp in bunny's hand. I do not know I just felt, dissappointed/bitter/unsure about all of this. I think it is normal to feel this way from time to time even for SZD because along with emotional investment we have rational perspective which is necessary to scrutinize evidence(maybe) from time to time.

I whole heartedly apologize for writing an essay length ask, this is the reason I wanted your patience 😅.

If any other blogger wants to add or comment on this please feel free to do so. Your suggestions are highly welcomed. 🙏

Hello Anon!

I take it that your questions about safety are concerned about the behaviour of c-solos and c-turtles? International fans aren’t likely to put Gg and Dd at any risk. That said, however, frequent fighting among i-fans would likely drain Gg and Dd’s international fanbase, as many fans do not enjoy being a combative atmosphere (I, for one, will run away as quickly as a turtle can run!). Lost i-fans can’t be easily replenished, whether they’re turtles or solos ~ The Untamed, as a foreign language show so beloved that fans are willing to scale tall language and cultural barriers to understand it, isn’t something that comes around often. (stanning Gg and/or Dd does take a lot of work!)

About the arguments. I probably only know about a fraction of them since I do not interact directly with fans outside Tumblr . As far as I can tell, however, recent arguments among c-solos and c-turtles have been ordinary fights, and also, fairly “bi-directional” between the solos (ie. I don’t think Gg or Dd has been relatively exempt from attacks compared to each other).

These arguments can be heated and some of the attacks may sound vicious, but there’s nothing much to worry about from a safety angle, as they haven’t caught the attention of those outside the fan circles.

The theorising by turtles are also not inherently dangerous. c-turtles have mostly been careful about keeping their discussions among themselves. The only risk it may lead to in the future, that I can think of right now, is the associated YiZhan content on China-based websites (ex. Bilibili, Douyin), which has become fairly plentiful. YiZhan candies used to be relatively obscure given the guidelines of CP fans to keep them among themselves (they call this practice 圈地自萌, literally, drawing a circle on the ground and have fun in it by oneself). These days, however, anyone who’s curious can get a good sense of YiZhan’s story by browsing Bilibili.

This probably contributes to the continued growth of the turtle population; however, some of this content is created by non-turtles who seek viewership and have little concern over Gg and Dd’s safety. They are the ones who re-upload the BTS, for example, despite the repeated pleas and warnings by the “站姐”s—the superfans who take/purchase these videos—as well as the turtles to not do that. If these content creators go overboard, there’s a possibility that YiZhan content may get caught in the government’s “Eradicating Pornography and Illegal Publications”（掃黃打非) movement. The movement originated in the mid 2000s, and its recent waves have been used as pretext to remove LGBT+ and BL content on line (I will eventually set up a post re: those events). Just last month (2020 Dec), Bilibili has been explicitly named by the government for hosting questionable materials, which means it’s already under scrutiny. Sweeps performed on an entire website are usually broad-based enough that no specific individuals are targeted; however, the government also encourages, with financial incentives, the reporting of specific content and has set up a dedicated website for doing so. While all YiZhan content has no direct relation to Gg and Dd, removal of such content may cause an over-reaction from fans, which can, in turn, lead to accusations of poor fan management by Gg and Dd. Most people will also assume the YiZhan content to be created by turtles.

(Another example of how an alleged turtle mis-step can get the YiZhan fandoms and Gg and Dd tied to the 掃黃打非 movement: a few days ago, a Weibo post showed a photo of a hardcover version of an explicit BJYX fanfic, reportedly sold for profit, and GG haters were calling for an arrest for “illegal publication.” So far, there’s minimal noise on the issue, so it isn’t something to worry about. It can also be fake news, which is so bountiful on the platform and on every aspect of daily life that most die a very peaceful, very well-deserved death.).

Whether fan arguments / theories may affect Gg and Dd’s relationship (assuming they’re in a relationship) … my guess is, not much. Gg and Dd are busy people, unlikely to closely follow their fans’ discussions. Again, I expect effects to be felt only if the arguments get out of hand ~ as in, if they begin to involve the public and/or the government.

As for the question about what is being done to stop Gg being targeted: fan wars are incredibly common in China (as in everywhere else), and Gg and Dd’s aren’t special in that sense ~ it’s just that as turtles, we know about those surrounding Gg and Dd and they feel significant to us. No individuals can stop a fan war ~ all we can do is to not join these wars ourselves.

Personally, I think the international fan base of Gg and Dd, as solos and cpfs, have more chance to achieve peace than its Chinese counterparts — if they choose to want that. Popularity in China is not only quantified (which is likely true everywhere, by marketing departments), but very visibly so. Sales numbers, votes, traffic attributed to each idol are frequently released to the public, possibly to foster competition among fans and drive these numbers further upward. c-turtles’ demonstrated strong performance in pushing these metrics has made them a target to those who wish to have usurp their consumer power. They, therefore, have good reasons to be wary of anyone who try to sway them from their “turtle-ship”, whether to turn them into solos or to lure them into an entirely different fandom. The swaying messages are also not always obvious, not always a direct “your cp suck”. They can be subtle, many even come from netizens who appear to be fellow turtles, who may say “oh, maybe we (turtles) are wrong” or “we have to be realistic; Gg and Dd will never look at each other publicly again”—messages that cast doubt and sink morale in a fandom that’s already running an uphill battle. Remember: traditionally, CP fandoms are not expected or welcomed to last, and solos have been happy to (correctly) point out that the BTS, the origin of the most solid “evidences” of BJYXSZD, are getting older by the day. c-turtles can’t expect anyone else to help defend their ship if something happens, given CP fandoms’ lack of respectability, given YiZhan being a real person M/M pairing that is often frowned upon. So it’s understandable, to me at least, why c-turtles are on guard, and occasionally, clash with those who they feel may be trying to take away what they love.

i-turtles, I feel, don’t have that many reasons to fight. We don’t really have other fandoms (for example, the up and coming danmeis—the adapted BL dramas) vying for our attention (and wallets). No one can put an expiration date on the YiZhan communities except ourselves.

Another way to see this is: we—as in, the combined Gg + Dd international fanbase, the solos + CPFs—are lucky in a way the fans in Gg and Dd’s home country are not. Collectively, we’re much further removed from the pressure to perform as fans, which is immense in China with their fan circle culture and fan economy. i-shrimps and i-motorcycles ~ some of you are reading this, I think? (hello!) ~ here are my humble thoughts: the solo/turtle ratio of Gg and Dd’s international fans doesn’t make much of an impact on Gg and Dd’s star status, on the popularity metrics that matter. Our spending power is limited outside China’s borders, and while Gg and Dd likely love us equally as fans, our adoration for them doesn’t really matter much, if at all, to the production/media/commercial companies that control the trajectories of their careers.

Along this line, the turtles’ “double loyalty” doesn’t have much of an ill effect, because there are few popularity contests here that mean much; few times (if any) when the turtles must face the dilemma of whether to vote for Gg or Dd because only a single vote is allowed; few situations where they have only x amount of dollars and must split it equally between Gg or Dd’s endorsements. There’s also much less cause to worry that i-turtles may draw the attention, or ire of the Chinese government ~ the whole international fanbase is too far away, too spread out to destabilise the regime in any way.

What the turtles do have in common with you, the solos, is their knowledge, their love for Gg/Dd. Knowledge, in particular. The people who know about Gg/Dd are still far and in between—at where I am, at least, and my guess is, it’s likely true for many of you too. Think of the turtles as people who you can talk to about your favourite star in places where few people know about him, can help promote The Untamed far and wide—many people still haven’t heard of the show, and they deserve to.

For the turtles ~ no one can take away our turtle-ship identity, as long as we don’t give it away. No one can report on the our communities to the government and get them dissolved. Our votes, our spending habits are no one else’s business but ours here.

So, Anon, here’s what I think, and these are all very personal opinions, very personal decisions on how to navigate fandom …

I truly hope that we, as the international fanbase, can try to use this luck that we have. Make our communities not mere copies of their (combative) Chinese counterparts but something different, something with our own flavour, something with more peace and less fighting.

Specifically, I see little cause to try to persuade/dissuade anyone to be a solo/turtle. I find them… not the best use of time. Why? Because frankly, neither solos nor turtles have a better grasp of who Gg and Dd are. Neither solos nor turtles have a truly good grasp of who Gg and Dd are. These discussions are therefore bound to end up with more ill will than conclusions, since both sides are short of facts.

We’re all short of facts as audiences, who’ve all only seen a tiny sliver of who Gg and Dd are as human beings.

I don’t mean Gg and Dd’s star image is fake ~ it’s just that, their star image is their “work face”, and even I, a lowly turtle, must act somewhat differently in my own office. It’s part of being professional.

Gg and Dd’s star image are their professional face, and no professionals worth a salt truly ignore other’s opinions, especially when the profession is being an entertainer whose job is to face and hold the attention of the public.

This is true for Gg; this is true for Dd.

Social media accounts are also part of Gg and Dd’s professional face ~ whatever is posted on there will be scrutinised by millions of fans, and they know that. The posts do provide some insights about Gg an Dd’s personalities, but they can’t be expected to show a complete picture. No parts of these posts, therefore, whether it’s the content or the kadians, are sufficient evidences for / against any aspect of their personal lives (especially as private an aspect as their romantic lives). Anon, you mentioned promotional marketing materials, and here’s my understanding of them ~ ambassadors such as Gg and Dd have minimal control over their design. The shrimp-holding bunny you’re referring to, for example, is very likely provided by the company.

However, may I also add this? Please try to not think of the shrimps / motorcycles as enemies of the turtles. Millions of people are behind each of these labels, and true for any group of this size, a fraction of its members are bound to be annoying. A small fraction may be awful, even. But they don’t represent the entire group. The shrimps are not only Gg’s fans, many of them have supported him longer than any turtle (since turtle-ship can’t be older than 2018); they’re also the reasons why Gg is in the industry ~ they voted for him in X-Fire. Likewise, a subset of motorcycles have been with Dd since UNIQ; they were there when the Korean ban effectively dissolved his group; they stuck with him when he was attacked for taking on the role of LWJ.

We’re all Gg and Dd’s fans, if you ask people outside the fandom. Remember: few outside China understand why heated arguments can occur between a bunch of shrimps, turtles and motorbikes. (It sounds a bit kafkaesque, just typing it out.)

It’s important not to lose sight too, that Gg and Dd’s social media accounts, where many new candies are found, primarily function as bridges of communication between them and their fans. These accounts do have different degrees of “professionalism” ~ Weibo and the official accounts being more formal, and Oasis, Douyin being more laid back and intimate; still, they all serve similar purposes. They’re not candy generators, or a script Gg and Dd have an obligation to follow to confirm / refute BJYXSZD.

Also: these accounts are accessible and watched by the public, not all of whom are friendly to Gg and Dd.

Re: Gg’s drawing on Oasis. He used the account as it’s intended for—to interact with his fans (the caption of the first draft was an unspoken invitation to shower him with ideas) and maybe, to show off a little (it was a very nice piece of artwork ~ a comment that I, sadly, haven’t seen much of). I doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted fans to carpet-search for traces of Dd in it (even though he probably expected that would happen); I very much doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted his fans to fight over scratch marks or black dots.

If these fights keep happening, I can imagine a possible outcome. He’ll stop showing us his drawings. His social media accounts will become less and less personal, as they already have.

I’ll share with you my thoughts about candies too, while I’m at it. These are probably not-so-popular opinions, so please take them all with a grain of salt.(Salted caramels? 😊 )

I haven’t looked at why candies are called candies, but I find the name appropriate for how I think of them ~ candies are 1) neither evidences or truth, 2) sweet, 3) treats (non-essential, not like the main course).

The first point is, perhaps, the one I try the hardest to keep in mind. There are posts out there claiming the candies as made-beliefs—generated from edited pictures or videos, exaggerated translations, and their interpretations forced by “guidances” in the annotations/narration. There are also posts claiming that turtles are deceivers, or have been deceived by brainwashers who maliciously created these make-beliefs. A turtle may assume these posts are all lies, all made by antis.

But, speaking turtle-to-turtle, I’d venture to say this … there’s some truth in the *first* statement. Many candies do, indeed, taste different if their taster returns to the original source—not necessarily unsweet, but less sweet. Candies, remember, are generated by fans like you and I. Same for c-candies ~ they aren’t endorsed by Gg and Dd, aren’t necessarily closer to the truth just because of the relative proximity of their birthplaces to their leads.

Candy generation is The Tradition of CP fandoms. It’s a celebrated skill, and who doesn’t want to generate a candy that will be talked about, that will be part of the BJYX canon, for as long as the fandom lasts? Some fans are, therefore, also more … efficient in the “marketing” of the candies they generated — in persuading others that their candies are evidences, the truth. “Guidance” photos and videos (which pinpoint the place to watch, sometimes with appropriate sound effects for emphasis) have come about that way, and because they’re easy to digest—especially where language barriers exist—they end up spreading to i-fandoms.

These photos and videos may look more professional / trustworthy, but they often have an additional layer of subjectivity ~ on top of the already subjective opinion of what makes a candy. Translations (of BTS, fake rumours house content etc) also introduce a subjective element. Word choices can significant modify the tone of a conversation; speakers of different Chinese dialects may also have different interpretations of the same phrases. Example: I, as a non Chongqing/Sichuanese speaker, can guess the literal meaning of the “puppy” term Gg used for Dd — 狗崽崽 (gou zai zai) — but I also had to rely on others to tell me how endearing the term is; me being a Chinese speaker actually doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid, or authoritative, in this scenario, because my dialect doesn’t use this term at all.

It doesn’t mean the people who’ve put in the work have any less-than-good intent; the vast majority of them come from a place of deep love. It’s just that we all carry our own perspectives, and as fans, our strong emotions in our fanworks.

This is why candies are often insufficient as good “points” for arguments, why they fail to convince non-believers, sometimes to the disappointment of some turtles. As evidences, they aren’t objective enough; they’re also often touch upon the assumption that’s mark the fundamental difference between solo and cp fans — the assumption that Gg and Dd are (not) together. Take, for example, this segment from a (polite) ask I got from an anon solo:

All the matching clothes, jewelry, shoes etc. Stopped being valid candy when I realized that the brands have popular stars "endorse" their products. The lightning pendant? Other actors have also worn it. Does that mean they are in a 3-way with (Gg) and (Dd)? Probs not.

Solo anon was correct! Brands have star endorsers, and other entertainers have, indeed, worn the same lightning pendant. The implied argument is also valid: people who don’t care about, don’t even know about each other can wear the same things. Most of us do that on a daily basis with our mass-produced garments.

However, a counterargument can also be made to the statement above, and easily: even the most precious, most beautiful wedding rings (say, from Tiffany!) are not exclusive to the first RL couple who bought them. It doesn’t mean the first RL couple is sleeping with all the couples who bought the same rings afterwards, doesn’t mean those rings aren’t significant to every one of these couples as romantic mementos. More often than not, couples wear matching things not because these things are exclusive to them—because how often can one find things that only exist as a single pair in this world? They wear matching things because they want to see something on themselves that remind them of their significant other and so, as long as the things aren’t so prevalent that everyone is wearing them, they can already serve their purpose.

But you see, Anon, that arguing over this would’ve been a waste of time? Because the solo came in with the assumption that Gg and Dd were not a couple, and the counterargument was made with the assumption that they were. The pendants alone are insufficient to prove either side correct or wrong. No one knows why those pendants ended up on Gg and Dd’s necks, except Gg and Dd and their teams. If I were to argue with anon solo, we can go on and on and on until we’re both left with bitter tastes in our mouths and WWX-red in our eyes, and forget the one thing that really matters: we’re both Gg’s fans.

(We could’ve spent the time talking about how that scene in The Wolf with Ji Chong throwing Zai Xing in the water is ❤️.) (I can’t believe the script waited 30+ episodes to do it. 😂)

This leads to my second point, Anon. Candies are meant to be sweet, and they’re meant to be sweet for you. In Chinese, a term for an expert candy person is a 嗑學家 (the candy-eating in CP fandoms is called 嗑糖 (ketang) ～ with 嗑 ke denoting a specific form of eating that requires breaking something open first with teeth—such as watermelon seeds; a 嗑學家 is a 嗑 (ke)-ologist). A 嗑學家 isn’t someone who can recall the longest list of candies, or spread the most candies around, or convince the most people that the CP behind the candies is real; they are those who can find their own candies in a source material, and be overjoyed by the sweetness of their discoveries without outside help. To me, at least, this term encapsulates the subjective nature of candies ~ what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice versa, and that’s perfectly all right. In other words, there are many candies out there but you’re not required to believe in all of them; instead, you’re free to choose candies to your own liking, compose your own version of the BJYX canon that you love, that you find sweet.

Wait, but you may say. Doesn’t that make my canon fantasy? Yes and no, because candies are based on real events. They’re interpretations, which sit somewhere between reality and fantasy. They’re like … opinion shows on news channels.

But what if I need to convince people of my canon —

Your “opposition”’s canon is as fantastical, and as real as yours — maybe it isn’t, but neither of you have a way to prove it one way or another.

Wouldn’t solos call me delulu, or clowns?

Maybe. But one step outside the fandom, and all of us fans—solo and cpfs—are delulu, clowns.

(That’s why while I’ve used the cpn label, I haven’t called myself delulu, or a clown. Anyone who thinks I have the truth about the love story about a pair of idol I haven’t met from thousands of miles away … the joke’s probably on them, don’t you think?)

Of course and again, Anon, this is only my take! I like candies precisely because I like to watch the real-time generation of candies, which ones different people claim as their own, which candies fall away and which stick around in the fandom over time. As a fic writer, this ship has gifted me with a treasure trove of information ~ what do people think of as romantic gestures, as give-away signs of love? The fun/amazing part of BJYX is that candies are available for so many different answers to these questions. Some people think of longing gazes and sweet smiles; some think of touches that can’t be helped (the many, many, many “fights”); some think of service (buying foods, designing clothes); some think of caring about the other’s well-being (throat candies and dumplings + noodles + crackers); some think of being The Other’s One and Only Exception (Dd being so talkative around Gg, Gg being so … fussy around Dd); some think of expressions through the arts (songs, drawings, dances); some think of grand gestures (the wave heart in the ocean); some think of matching clothes and symbolic accessories (rings); some think of birthdays and anniversaries (314, 622, the first snow); some think of sharing life’s hassles and small tidbits (fake rumour house); some think of … just looking VERY good together. Etc etc.

Some think of a subset of these, some think of all of these…

(Personally, I’m a very picky candy eater. I know about many of them, but only a small fraction impresses on me.)

(Still, I love watching candies. I love watching the joy of people sweetened by them ~ or, when c-turtles exclaim kswl! — the short form of ke si wo le! 嗑死我了! I “ke”ed so much I’m dying!)

This gets to 3), Anon, and I apologise to you too, for answering your not-essay-at-all with an essay! Candies are, to me, treats, and I don’t expect them to come at any frequencies higher than treats do. The reason isn’t because I don’t like candies ~ I enjoy watching them, as I said, even if I don’t eat many of them; the reason is because I don’t expect anyone’s romantic love to leave a trace in everything they do. For example, if I truly find myself in a SZD/SJD discussion re: Gg’s drawing, I’d say the lack of Dd in Gg’s self-portrait doesn’t really mean much. Even if Gg and Dd were head-over-heels in love with one another, Gg doesn’t have to put Dd in everything he touches. Likewise, Dd doesn’t have to present a consistent, or decipherable story with his kadians. This is true for the real-life couples around us too, isn’t it? They don’t perform every single act in life leaving a noticeable trace of their significant other. And the misunderstanding that couples do that — that their romantic lives take over who they are as individuals — IMO, partially explains why people who choose to not to date or marry, people who’re aro-aces, often have a difficult time convincing others that they’re complete humans. Romantic love is, of course, very, very important and can be life altering, but it also isn’t everything about a person ~ especially not if a person who has a career as exciting as Gg’s and Dd’s. Gg and Dd who also have friends, family, (many) talents and interests …

(And lots of ugly icons on their cell phones. Yes, I’m talking about you, Gg. That long-armed Pepe from your 2018 snowless Beijing post will give me nightmares…)

#pie metas #pie answers #yizhan #BJYX

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softrozene · 4 years

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Hellooo! I hope you're okay. Can I get a scenario for Benn Beckmann, Crocodile and Smoker with a female reader who confesses her feelings, please ?

I’m doing amazing Lovely. I hope you’re doing wonderful too! <3 I am such a sucker for requests like these. They feed into my love for fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy this! Because of the theme requested and the characters personalities I gave the reader more of a shy girl kind of personality!

Benn, Crocodile, Smoker x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff to the max

Words: 1818

Benn Beckmann-

Benn has a bad feeling the second he saw your cute form go up to the captain. He always gets an uneasy feeling when you talk to Shanks and yes, he is aware he is jealous, and he does not hide it very well, but this time felt different. Mostly because Shanks is giggling like a girl and your face looks beyond flustered.

Normally, he would go to your rescue but the second he sees Shanks look at him he had the urge to run away from his captain’s idiocy. He could not do so after you turn as well and give him a look that makes his heart ache. Whatever is going on he does not like it but seeing that look you gave him, makes him stay in place.

Benn is usually a quiet man and one who definitely does not wear his heart on his sleeve but the crew members who he’s been with from the start of the Red Hair Pirates can see through him. They know how smitten he is with you just as you are with him. It is almost painful that the two of you are not together and that is why while Benn is keeping an eye on you and Shanks from afar, Shanks is trying to convince you to confess to Benn.

The thought terrifies you. Your face heats up like a fire and you feel dizzy just thinking about it. Shanks is making fun of you and you want to hit him but of course, you do not dare. It is all in good faith that he is teasing you anyway.

The worry practically paints your being and Shanks gives in to give you his captain talk.

“Listen (Name), you are a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. I can promise you that Benn will reciprocate your feelings. On the highly slim chance that he does not I will owe you a date night to lather you up with the romance you deserve,” Shanks promises.

The thought makes you want to gag immediately since you are not interested in your captain and Shanks laughs since you did not hide that. His words did reach you though and you turn around yet again to see Benn staring at you.

It is now or never.

As you walk up to Benn, he kicks himself for staring for so long. Even more, he wishes he knew what Shanks said to you to make your face so flustered.

“Benn?” Ah. The way you say his name makes him smile as he hums in response.

You go for it. “I like you. A lot. I know I may not be the most confident of women but-“

This is really happening. Benn can’t hear your words as the smile on his face grows. He glances back towards his captain who in return gives him a thumbs up. He cuts your now stuttering sentence off as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I like you too, (Name). If you are sure you want to pursue a relationship with me then by all means I accept,” Benn says.

And that was how Benn accidentally killed a crewmember, his new partner, with Shanks as a witness when your body hit the ground and you went to cloud nine.

Crocodile-

“Do you know why you are here?” Crocodile questions.

You look a bit nervous but overall, pretty composed. He is impressed since anyone else would have usually pissed their pants by now. You do not answer him and even though that agitates him he lets it pass since you are one of his most valuable assets.

“You have been distracted. It is affecting your work. Would you like to tell me why?” He asks leaning into his hand.

Despite the way he asked it with a certain gentleness to it, his hook starts to carve into the desk leaving the silent threat. Any other person would be terrified, and it looks like you are, but you are just nervous. Your heart is racing wildly as you try to distract yourself from feeling a bit too hot from the threat of his hook.

“I have a perfectly reasonable explanation,” You start.

You want to tell him, but it may mean your death sentence. This man does not tolerate distractions. The only reason why he has not murdered you on the spot for your suddenly slow work is because your loyalty is as high, maybe even higher than Mr. 1’s loyalty. That is a great feat and one Crocodile appreciates even if he has no problems getting rid of his loyal followers.

He raises an eyebrow and you decide that saying your feelings for him would be worth it even if he decides to take your life.

“I like somebody… Romantically,” You begin.

Your eyes widen however when his hook crashes into the desk leaving a big and ugly scratch. The veins on his neck are prominent and for a moment you believe that he is jealous. It is a silly little thought but one that could bring you to tears with joy. It’s impossible though. You want to cry from embarrassment now. Crocodile is just angry that your romantic feelings got in the way of your work, you convince yourself this.

In reality, the second you admitted this, Crocodile saw red. You have feelings for someone? Nobody but he deserves your kind and loyal personality. You fit him perfectly and he would protect you no matter what. So, he is angry at whoever has your mind and heart right now.

He lost his composure for a second and he regrets it upon seeing your saddened face. Slight pride is in him for being able to get that reaction out of you though because that means you know your feelings for another are unacceptable.

Crocodile decides to go straight to the point. “Tell me who he is so I can destroy him. You are aware that feelings only cause distractions.”

The words sting and hard. He can see you flinch from this and your hesitation is strong. This is a first and he astounded that you out of everyone else may withhold this information. It almost makes him scoff. Of course, he should have known better. Even among the most loyal, they may betray him.

He is ready to crush all his feelings for you at this moment when you open your mouth and freeze. He allows you the moment to say the stupid name, but his eyes widen at what you do say.

“It is you. I like you romantically.”

He can sense your need to go run and hide and honestly? With what he does next he does not blame you. He laughs. Anyone would take this the wrong way which is why he is quick to compose himself and say, “This changes everything. Especially since I return your feelings. It would only make sense that we get involved with each other officially to avoid any more distractions, doesn’t it?”

He seems to have broken you as you stare at him awe that he really feels the same way. He accepts that as an answer.

“Prepare for a date tonight. Expect nothing but the best now that I can freely call you my woman.”

Smoker-

Today felt funny to Smoker for some odd reason. Usually, he is not this dense especially when his subordinates are involved which is why he is getting heavily annoyed that they are whispering amongst themselves while sending him glances.

He can’t recall what he did to warner these glances, but he suspects it has something to do with you as soon as he sees them glance your way. You, as always, are stuck in your head. It makes him stop as he thinks about you for a moment.

You are a strong and resilient woman. At first, he did not believe this with how much of an airhead you were but then he saw you in battle and honestly? He saw you more than a subordinate. He realized how compassionate you were for others. Seeing you in a different light alone made him angry but whenever you are around, he becomes fully aware of his body’s and emotion’s reactions to you. He becomes aware of how the subordinates treat you.

Getting a bit irritated with his feelings, he looks away from you and begins to glance over the ship. Though from the corner of his eye he can see Tashigi talking to you. He huffs more at the thought of you two being closer seeing as you both are the only females on this marine ship.

He looks away and grits his teeth as the irrational thoughts in his head begin to deepen.

“Sir? Sir!” You call out making him jump.

He immediately tries to fight off the blush trying to paint his cheeks as he realizes how close you are to him. You are trying to peer into his face to see if he is okay.

“Are you okay?” You ask genuinely concerned.

Smoker forces him to cough as he nods his head. “Yes. Fine. What is it you need, (Last Name)?”

“I, uh, it really is nothing. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you and that I actually find you really attractive and I know it’s against the rules since you are my superior and all but when I look at you I see a handsome man that I can really build a future with and I haven’t felt this way about anyone else before and I just can’t help admire the way you look and behavior sometimes and-”

Many ands later, Smoker’s face has turned beet red and he can feel the need to vanish into the smoke but from sheer happiness. You, you confessed to him? Even more, you gave a whole speech with your confession and somehow you manage to look adorable as you try and retract your confession. You seemed to realize that you ended up rambling and now became a mess as you try and backtrack the conversation to the original question of if he was okay.

He finally as enough. He can’t help it, especially when he finds out that your feelings are mutual. He grabs your face with one hand, pinching your cheeks as he makes you pucker your lips and he pushes his on top with ease.

It made you shut up… Oh… It made you almost pass out. He can feel the heat off your face as your brain sizzles from malfunctioning.

“Go finish your duties (Name)… I’ll request a night off for the two of us for a proper date,” Smoker whispers as he returns to his serious face.

Even if he does get serious again, you can’t help but notice the slight pink on his cheeks still that is proof you accomplished something with your confession.

#my writing #benn beckman x reader #crocodile x reader #smoker x reader #one piece #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #scenarios #one piece scenarios #female reader #benn beckman #one piece crocodile #one piece smoker #one piece x reader #fluff

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istgimamess · 3 years

Text

Reaction: [ S t r a y K i d s ] finding out their s/o is a [ S u p e r n a t u r a l C r e a t u r e ]

"...hi it's the anon from yesterday! so I'm not sure what way you do your reactions but something i haven't seen yet but would like to is a reaction to finding out that either their s/o or friend, whichever you'd prefer, is a supernatural creature (like werewolf, fae, witch, shape shifter, mermaid, demon, angel, anything really) for stray kids!

let me know if I didn't give you info that you need for a reaction or... if there are any problems with my request, I'm kind of shooting blindly since you don't have rules or anything right? so yea, i hope this is fine tho..."

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[ C h a n ] finds out you’re an [ A n g e l ]

His initial reaction: [ C o n c e r n e d ]

^ he’s logical, fair and patient—he’s known for having a logical minds and a fair judgment. He strives for fairness and justice constantly. This makes him a wonderful mediator. He’ll analyze every situation with his little legal eagle brain and logical mind; with the help of that he can organize all things well and eliminate the irrelevant. So when you finally admit to being an angel, show him your wings, he’ll most like keep quiet.

^ also, he’s a great listener—he’ll most definitely listen to your side of the story before making any irrational decisions about your relationship. This goes back to his logical, fair and patient way of thinking; he’ll most likely just sit there quietly and let you do the talking, the explaining. ^ he soaks up all the ideas and information around him like a big brainy sponge. He hates conflicts and confrontations and always watches his words while communicating, talking in a way as to not offend you. When he finally does say something, his words will be well thought out, calculated.

^ he always knows a lot more than he lets on, most likely he already knew you were abnormal—a bit different—from the very start of your relationship. And he was just waiting for you to get comfortable enough to admit it to him, to officially let him in on the secret.

^ he’s very understanding. He’s very thoughtful and interprets things that most people miss out on. This will be beneficial to you when you begin to try and explain to him why you kept this a huge secret for such a long time. He’ll see that it, your unwillingness to tell anybody your origin story, has nothing to do with him not being worthy of knowing. He won’t take it personally.

^ he’ll tell you like it is, straight up, because he’s an honest and upfront person. He’ll wait until you’ve finished explaining and when you question him on his thoughts and feelings in the moment, he won’t sugar coat it—which can be both good and bad.

^ but, also, he can smell bullshit from a mile away. If you omit any significant details, or lie in any way, he will catch on almost instantly. And he won’t be happy.

^ he’s loyal to the bone and fiercely protective of you; finding out you’re an angel won’t change that. If anything, he’ll feel even more protective of both you and your secret. ^ he’ll forgive but never forget. Even though he won’t show it on the surface, he’ll be extremely hurt that it took you so long to tell him. Logically he knows it has nothing to do with him, but emotionally it will feel like you just don’t trust him enough. He’ll forgive you for keeping such a monumental secret, but he’ll never forget that feeling. But once he listens to your story, does his own research, his concern for you will outweigh those hurt feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I did some research,” he trailed off, you jerked at the echo of his voice in the otherwise silent room.

“Research? On what?” you gaze over at him, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You. Well, angel’s in general, but mostly you.” his voice is much lower, the silence drags on for a moment too long. It’s suddenly stifling.

“And?” you breath out, still caught off guard.

“What does Éloa mean?” he questions, taking a step around the bed to face you, get a better look. You narrowed your gaze, heart suddenly in your throat. How did he find that name? Did he know? Was he just testing you? You take a deep breath, eyes dropping down to the carpet beneath his bare feet. You decide to just answer him, literally. “It’s the name of an angel.” He tilts his head, contemplatively. And there is something dangerous in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “I’ve never heard of him.” “You wouldn’t have.” you pull the blanket closer to you, resisting the sudden urge to spread your wings, stretch them wide and flee. “Was he a fallen angel?” his eyes are darker now, assessing, he definitely knows. You know he knows. So why wasn’t he saying? “She was, yes.” you hesitate, not wanting to give too much of your past away, but unable to stop yourself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.” “Tricked her how?” he was still standing above you, he wouldn’t approach you, hasn’t since the night he caught you in full form. You meet his gaze. “She fell in love with him.” His eyes narrowed, his face pulled into a grimace. How disgusting must it feel to find out your girlfriend is not only a fallen angel, but also a fallen angel who was once in love with Lucifer. You shrink, your wings drawing in closer to your body. “Did he love her?” Like an addict loves his addiction, you think, bitterly.. “The only way he knew how.” He must have been able to see the pain in your eyes because, for a moment, pure concern crossed his features. He shook his head, schooling his expression once again. “How could he trick her?” “He never told her his name.” you whisper, your voice breaking. And suddenly he wasn’t across the room, standing above you at a distance—he was right in front of you, knee on the bed, arms around your shoulders. “Shhh, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it now.” He reached forward to cup your cheek, the touch surprising you. "Please understand that no matter what you are or what has happened in your past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above all else, including my own life."

You exhaled after holding your breath for what felt like forever, tears spilling over in excess. "That's pretty heavy, Chan." His expression was impassioned, and the backs of his fingers brushed the side of your neck, thumbs wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. "It is a burden I am glad to carry.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ C h a n g b i n ] finds out you’re a [ W e r e w o l f ]

His initial reaction: [ C u r i o u s ] ^ he’s kind and protective. He feels responsible and is always willing to help you out when you’re in need. He will go to great lengths to make sure that you feel loved and you’re happy. He will always stand up for the underdog, (no werewolf pun intended.) This is beneficial to you because his compassionate heart will win out over his logical mindset.

^ he’s extremely loyal. If there’s one trait imbedded in him, it is his loyalty. He physically won’t be able to turn his back on you—werewolf or not.

^ he’s also very honest. He tends to be extremely direct and straightforward with you. He gives honest feedback to you when you ask for it. He would never speak a white lie just to avoid conflict, or be deemed reasonable, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him bottling up his true thoughts, opinions and emotions on the subject.

^ that being said, his honesty often comes off as excessive bluntness. Therefore, at first, you might catch some heat in that department.

^ he, at times, can be very inflexible. When he has committed to something, in this case a way of thinking, he’ll fight tooth and nail to stick to that way of thinking. Regardless of how much proof he has in front of him, it will be difficult to convince him otherwise—especially when he grew up believing that werewolves were myth, not real.

^ once he has a significant amount of proof, though, he’ll be insanely curious on the matter and his crazy sense of humor will resurface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, are you an alpha? An omega? Do you turn when you feel threatened?” his wide eyes, his random questioning—it all catches you off guard.

“I’m considered a dominant amongst my pack. And, yes, I guess I would if I felt threatened.” you nod slowly, holding his gaze. You’re the werewolf here, the freak of nature, but this boy—this human—is the weird one.

“What’s a dominant? Are they more important than a submissive?” he crawls closer to you, his jeans catching on the carpet beneath you.

“Not necessarily. A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting themselves: they can fight, they can kill as readily as any other. They are a treasure in a pack, just as important. A source of purpose and of balance.” you catch yourself quoting your great grandmother, the very first female dominant in your pack, a rare, smart, capable wolf.

“Then why does the dominant wolf exist? If a submissive wolf is just as capable, just as important, why make the distinction?” he interjects, your baffled at his level of curiosity.

“Because even through submissives are just as capable and important, they’re very different. It’s a dominants job to protect those beneath them.” you pause momentarily, watch a multitude of expressions cross his face. “Protecting a submissive is far more rewarding because a submissive will never wait until you are wounded or your back is turned to see if you are truly dominant to them. Submissive wolves can be trusted. And they unite the pack with the goal of keeping them safe and cared for.”

There is a long moment where you just stare at each other, his eyes glazed over, a childlike expression on his face. “So you’re a werewolf trapped in a human body?”

You stifle a laugh, unable to control your facial expression. "Well, yeah, that's kind of the definition."

"No, really. You’re trapped?” his eyes widen slightly, he leans forward, anticipating your answer.

"Oh? Are you trying to ask me the last time I shifted?" you voice, confusion written all over your face.

“Yes.” he nods enthusiastically. You briefly debate telling him about the traffic incident, but ultimately decide against lying.

“On your birthday.” you admit, sheepishly. “There was a lot of traffic and I was running late.” you trail off, suddenly awkward. But then he laughs, big and loud, throwing his head back.

“That’s so cool! I want to be a werewolf. How do I get a werewolf to attack me?" he smiles wide. And you roll your eyes, shake your head in pseudo disappointment. “Stand in the middle of a forest under a full moon with a raw steak tied to your face, holding a sign that says, 'Eat me; I'm stupid'?”

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[ H y u n j i n ] finds out you’re a [ M e r m a i d ]

His initial reaction: [ P r a c t i c e d ]

^ he’s very empathetic with a lively imagination and a friendly disposition. He has a boundless capacity for empathy even with those who he barely sees eye to eye with. This is great for you because, even if he is initially angry that you kept such a secret from him, he’ll still empathize with your situation, your story.

^ he’s more emotional than your average guy. He is intune and prone to the infectious emotion of those around him. If he see tears, he will likely cry. If he can sense hurt in your voice, it will sadden him also.

^ he will love you unconditionally no matter what or who you are. ^ he’s selfless and generous. No matter how big the secret, how hurt he is from your omission, he will always be there when you need someone. Because he is so practiced in the idea that he can’t live without you, he will always show up when you need him.

^ that being said, because of his idealistic nature, you can often find him walking alone. He can be overly trusting and it often leaves him feeling betrayed, hurt and vulnerable. He might view your lack of openness, truthfulness, as a betrayal within your relationship. And that might make conversation with him, for a while, very stilted. He’ll seem impassive at first, but he will eventually warm back up to you.

^ he’s not one to give up easily. He puts in the work to get what he wants in life and he won’t let it slide away without a fight. He won’t let you go over something like this, not after he’s just got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There, with bare feet and drenched hair, you were crouched like a child. Upon hearing him approach, you looked up, peered into his dark, hesitant eyes. You wore only an enormous men’s sweater, his sweater—with no extravagant pattern or color, the sweater was a dull beige. Your knees were pulled up inside of it, thin pale ankles peeking out from underneath. The wool sweater alone was dry, as the rest of your head, hands, and feet were as wet as if you’d just been pulled from drowning. Tiny rivers flowed off your hair and pooled on the wool sweater, leaving it dark in splotches. Water droplets glistened on your skin, not running off, as though they couldn’t quite bear to leave you. His eyes held yours in a way his hands did not. His empathetic gaze schooled, his expression practiced, controlled.

“So...a mermaid?” you twist your head the other direction, his voice breaking your concentration momentarily. At this he took a sudden step forward, as if compelled. He had caught a glimpse of pink gills under your chin, his busy eyes dancing along your neck with a new found curiosity. You became overwhelmingly self conscious, tucking your chin, keeping your neck hidden from his view. It had always taken your gills longer to disappear than your tail.

“My mother told me stories of mermaids. She said they sometimes sing to humans to lure them underwater.” his voice trailed off, momentarily. “But you have a horrible voice.” your gaze snaps up, catching the mischievous look in his eye, his grin.

His teasing catches you off guard, you fumble with your words, “Yeah, well...I've been practicing. Want to hear?” you glare at him, halfheartedly.

He lets out a soft laugh, “I'm always happy when I'm surrounded by water, I think I'm a Mermaid too...or at least, I was a mermaid in a past life.” he crouches down, he’s much closer to you now.

“Are you in pain?” you choke out, the idea of him hurting, in any way, unbearable to you. You don’t know why you asked that, he’s obviously just joking—keeping a steady conversation with you, trying to keep you calm.

“Pain? Why would I be in—” he trails off, eyes snapping in your direction. “Wait, are you in pain?” the absolute, genuine concern in his voice has you pulling up short. Your breathing shallow.

“Mermaids hurt when we’re in human form.” you admit, quietly, eyes glued to the rocks on the horizon.

“But...but you never look like you’re in pain, you’re always smiling, always so...graceful—” he cuts himself off abruptly, eyes narrowed. It’s as if he’s angry at himself for not catching on to your discomfort much sooner. “What does it feel like?”

“When your tail divides and shrinks until it becomes legs, it’s very painful. It feels as if a sharp sword is slashing through you. Everyone who sees a mermaid on legs will say that they are the most graceful human being they’ve ever laid eyes on—” you remember, vividly, all the times you were complemented for your gliding movement; not even a seasoned dancer is able to tread as lightly as you. “But every step you take feels as if you are treading upon knife blades so sharp that blood must flow.”

There is silence, the ocean waves brushing against the sand, caressing the shore—it’s the only noise you hear for a moment.

“Then shall I take you home and put you in the bathtub?” his unsystematic question is enough to pull you out of your thoughts completely, his brand of humor easily calming you in your panicked state. You’re suddenly very thankful.

“How do you always know just what to say?" you ask, a smile on your lips. His laugh rumbles through you as he puts his arm around your damp shoulders. "Practice, I guess."

You pull back and give him a quizzical look.

"I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging you closer. “I should hope I know what to say now that I've finally got you.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J i s u n g ] finds out you’re a [ D e m o n ]

His initial reaction: [ B e w i l d e r e d ]

^ he’s very intelligent and he’s always ready to expand his knowledge reserves. He usually has a systematic approach to life, he always ensures that he doesn’t miss any loophole behind. So when he finds out about you being a demon, he’s both bewildered and inquisitive.

^ he’s usually very calm and collected on the surface. But underneath he has a great intensity that demands he bring order to his world. He struggles with the need to rearrange his frantic interior beneath the calm exterior until everything is perfect. This might make him seem more freaked out, frightened, than he actually is.

^ he is highly patient with you and always tries to find the good in everything around him. So in reality, even though he initially seems frazzled at your confession, he will actually give you enough time to fix up your act—explain yourself—when need be.

^ he can, at times, be very judgmental. He tends to appraise and judge people based on one particular viewpoint in that person’s life—especially if he doesn’t know that person well enough. That being said, your relationship is solid enough to outlast his initial judgment.

^ he can also be very fussy, as sometimes he gets lost in the details. His strong likes and dislikes make him quite finicky at first. And he’ll definitely feel some type of way that you kept him in the dark for so long. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All the demons of Hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. As each subsequent civilization became a dominant power, among its first acts was to depose and demonize whoever the previous culture had worshipped. The Jews attacked Belial, the god of the Babylonians. The Christians banished Pan and Loki, the respective deities of the ancient Greeks and Celts. The Anglican British banned belief in the Australian aboriginal spirits known as the Mimi. Satan is depicted with cloven hooves because Pan had them, and he carries a pitchfork based on the trident carried by Neptune. As each deity was deposed, it was relegated to Hell. For gods so long accustomed to receiving tribute and loving attention, of course this status shift put them into a foul mood.

And when Hell, itself, was in a foul mood, demons—specifically the ones planted here on earth—got the brunt of it. So to say you were in a bad mood would be an understatement. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision on your part to agree to speak with Jisung about your origins in that moment.

“It’s not fair.” his voice wavers, the emotional confrontation taking a toll on him.

“What, that I’m a demon or that you managed to date me?” you bit out, tersely. “Don’t.” his voice was abruptly dark.

“No, you’re right, it’s not fair—but what makes earth feel like Hell is your expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. Good is rarely good and bad is always bad. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. It won’t help the situation for you to get all upset.” you snap back at him, voice just as dark.

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me now?” his eyes narrow.

“How miserably hypocritical,” you respond with a growl. “You think it’s such a burden for you to be tricked into dating the devils servant? What about the burden of me being me?” your voice is much lower now, your practically spitting venom in his direction. “No sooner am I offered a chance to flee Hell than I yearn to stay.”

“I didn’t want this.” his dark eyes, his bewildered gaze reflecting a huge amount of regret.

“Few families hold their relations as closely as do prisons. Few marriages sustain the high level of passion that exists between criminals and those who seek to bring them to justice. It’s no wonder the Zodiac Killer flirted so relentlessly with the police. Or that Jack the Ripper courted and baited detectives with his—or her—coy letters. We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. That’s what I did, I pursued you, I desired you. Anything beyond that is your fault.” you turn, ready to flee out the door, the overwhelming urge to hurt something, someone, frightening you.

“My fault!? Is it my fault that I want you? That I want that feeling of standing with you against all odds and succeeding? That I want it so bad, I’d risk destroying everything I’ve worked for?” he spits at your back, crossing the room in a long stride to block your path to the door. “Is that my fault? I should walk away. But all I want to do is follow you, out that door, down the street, all the way back to hell.” his fists are clenched, his face red, you’ve never seen him so frustrated—with you or himself. “What the hell am I doing, falling in love with a demon?” His sudden confession almost knocks you from your feet. Anger and confusion painting his face.

“You love me?” you whisper in a fit of shock.

“Yes.” he whispers right back, voice matching yours, as if his own confession shocked him as well.

“Enough to follow me all the way to hell?” you’re baffled.

“Well, according to Google, 98.3 percent of lawyers end up in Hell. That's in contrast to the 23 percent of farmers who are eternally damned. Some 45 percent of retail business owners are Hellbound, and 85 percent of computer software writers.” he hums to himself, pausing in thought. “Perhaps a trace number of musicians ascend to Heaven, but statistically speaking, 100 percent of them are cast into the fiery pit. As are essentially 100 percent of journalists and redheads.” he finishes with a satisfied nod. “Readheads?” you cock your eyebrow, completely thrown by the turn of conversation.

“What? I told you! I googled it.” he smiles, oddly proud of himself.

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[ F e l i x ] finds out you’re a [ V a m p i r e ]

His initial reaction: [ P l a y f u l ]

^ like Jisung, he’s appears very calm and collected on the surface; he will struggle with his external facade and his internal need demanding order. This might make him seem very impassive in the moment, as he tends to shut down when confronted with mixed and conflicting emotions.

^ he has an analytical mind that can see things in black and white. He is capable of finding solutions to tough problems, always. He has a keen attention to detail, and likes to absorb everything before making a decision. So he will probably, like Chan, be very quiet and expressionless during your confession.

^ he has a very clever mind. And he will go through all possible elements of thinking before making any decision—so you won’t have to worry about fear, disgust or uncertainty driving him to make an impulsive decision about your relationship.

^ he’s very honest with you, he will always tell you exactly how he feel about you—to your face. He doesn’t like to sugar coat his words. For him, honesty is the best policy, even if the truth hurts. So when he does settle his mind, his inner conflict, enough to respond to you articulately—you might experience some unintentional savagery, but it most definitely will not last for long.

^ he’s pretty old school, a bit conservative and old fashioned. He’s not really into modern changes and prefers things in their old traditional ways. This is beneficial to you, in the given situation, because you are much much older than you seem. Your aura brings that old fashioned feel, and he will still appreciate that—even after realizing why.

^ once he wraps his head around the concept, around the idea of you being a vampire and living off of blood, he’ll be extremely playful. He’ll love to tease you, and honestly, he’s the type to be into a little blood play.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, I get it, you're a vampire," he said. "Creepy. And okay, a little hot, I admit."

"You don't mean that." you gape in his direction. "Come on. I still like you, you know, even if you... crave plasma." You blink once, twice, and it’s as if you’ve never seen him before. “You what?"

"Like. You." Felix enunciated slowly, as if you might not know the words. "Idiot. I always have. What, you didn't know? We’re literally dating." he sounded cool and grown-up about it, but you saw the hectic color in his cheeks, under the moonlight.

"How clueless are you? Does it come with the fangs?" he sniffs, eyes darting around him, never really settling on you.

"I guess I...I just thought.... I don’t know. I just didn't think...You're kind of intimidating, you know." you finally admit. "I'm intimidating? Me? You’re the vampire here!” he spluttered out. "You're the one who's intimidating. I mean, come on. All that power, and you look... Well, you know how you look."

"How do I look?" you were fascinated now, you moved a little closer to him on the couch. He laughed nervously. "Oh come on. You're a total model-babe."

"You're kidding." you deadpan, completely caught off guard.

"You don't think you are?" he shot back at you, side eyeing your expression. You shook you head."Then you're kind of an idiot. Smart, but an idiot." he crossed his arms, momentarily lost in though. “So? What exactly do you think about me, except that I’m intimidating?” he questioned after a moment of silence.

“I think you’re…you’re…ah, interesting?” your the one tripping over your words now. If you were capable of blushing, you’d be beet red. “I think you’re kind of beautiful...for a human. And really, really strange.” You look away, keeping your eyes on the opposite wall.

“Beautiful? But I’m a boy.” he whines.

“Boys can be beautiful too, it’s not subjective to one gender. Besides, beauty is a state of being—it’s inside—not just physical attractiveness.” you reprimand him for his narrow mindedness.

He smiled and looked down, the color in his face deepened. “Thanks for that,” he murmured, “I thought you only considered me to be bratty.”

“Well, to be fair, you are bratty.” you smile, peeking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey!” he gasps, affronted.

“What? You can be bratty and beautiful,” you shot back, repeating yourself once more. “I think it’s interesting.” There was a beat of silence, “So, your not scared of me? You don’t hate me?” you whispered into the dark room. Before he could even open his mouth to reply, you continue, “I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those would hold a candle to the pain I’d feel if you hated me, if you were scared.”

His dark eyes find you in the light of the moon, his hand reaching out to intertwine with your. He opens his mouth, closes it and opens it once more—as if trying to articulate his feelings properly, as if trying to find the words. “That's pretty hot," his deep voice carries in the otherwise quiet room.

"What? Me being staked?" you admonished, unprepared for the turn of conversation.

"Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports." he wiggled his eyebrows in your direction, his voice playful, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Throwing your head back, you squeezed his hand, “I'm sure you are.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J e o n g i n ] finds out you’re a [ N y m p h ]

His initial reaction: [ D e l i g h t e d ]

^ he’s incredibly open-minded and tends to think and do things differently than others. He thinks for himself and likes to keep an open mind about all things. He’s not the type to judge a book by its cover. So you won’t need to worry about any judgment being thrown your way.

^ he’s a true free spirit, meaning any attempts to keep him from being who he really is will make him turn away. This is great, because he has learned to treat others as he wishes to be treated; he won’t ask you to suppress who you are, or change in any way, for the fear that you might do the same to him.

^ he’ll most likely need some space and freedom to work through his thoughts on your unusual upbringing. However, he will be very vocal about exactly why he needs space, as to avoid any miscommunication. He would never up and leave you for being open and honest with him and he wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.

^ like Jisung, he is also quite the intellectual. He can amaze anyone with his original ideas; this is great because, right off the bat, he will be so overwhelmed with curiosity, overflowing with questions, he won’t have the time to be upset with you.

^ sure, he’s a bit of an intellectual rebel and he will loudly defend his opinions, but he’s also willing and open to learning. Ultimately, telling him you’re a forest nymph will be like telling him you had grapefruit for breakfast. He has a great power to form and understand abstract concepts and conform and adapt to new information like he’s known it his whole life—like it’s no big deal.

^ he’ll be delighted with your honesty, insanely curious and extremely playful.

^ he’s also very stubborn at times. It is often hard to change his mind about something once it is set for. But you’re close enough to actually succeed in this area, an area which others have failed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You wake up sudden—a chill crawling down your spine—in a puddle of cool sunlight. Your hands asleep beside you, your hair draped on the lawn like a mantle of cloth. Frost grows on the window glass, forming whirlpool patterns of lovely translucent geometry, and you stare up, momentarily forgetting where you are. Sitting up slowly, you lean forward and breath on the glass, giving the frost more ammunition. Now the winter nymphs can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor. In a few blinks you can almost see them moving in, ready to do their seasonal damage to your lovely forest, to your home. That’s when you hear it, a shift in the cool grass. And suddenly he’s right there, crouched down beside you. He rocks forward, and hisses in an attempt to scare you out of your thoughts. But you knew he was there the entire time, you could sense his presence. He could never truly sneak up on you in the forest, not with the many trees and plants and animals—the many eyes and ears.

You turn to him, with a bored expression, “Really? That’s all you got?”

You stretch your wings, hear their crackle, as a show of complete content.

“Not fair! How did you know? I was really quiet this time!” he pouts, whining about how unfair it is. “Also, why are you out here? It’s kind of cold.” he finally sits down, pulling his knees up to his chest.

You shrug your shoulders, resisting the urge to smile. There’s a pause, a beat of silence, where you both gaze up at the outer side of the house; the windows covered in frost catching your attention, yet again. And then you feel his gaze on you.

“It’s nice.” he whispers and you turn your head to face him, confused.

“That you exist.” he smiles at you and you feel your heart drop.

“I think humans don’t want merely to see beauty...we want something else which can hardly be put into words—” he cuts himself off, momentarily, watching your face carefully. “We want to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to become part of it. I think that’s why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.” he trails off again, and you’re left speechless. His dark eyes catching on the curves and lines of your face. And then the moment is broken, he looks away, back up at the frost bitten windowsill. But your heart still thumps in your throat. “And this is nice," he begins with a sigh. "Like...one of those paintings where a nymph or Athena is drawing the gods and goddesses." your eyes follow his gaze back up to the windowsill, you see that he’s referring to the intricate designs hidden within the frost. Winter nymphs have a tendency to hide such patterns, such art, in their work.

You hum in agreement. “And here I was thinking you were an utterly uneducated human," you said teasingly.

"I am a student," he responded with hauteur. "I am classically educated.”

"Plus, nymphs are pretty," he adds, in after thought.

You laugh. "I could stare at them all day," he continued. His tone was carefully neutral, but his eyes never left yours. And you found you couldn’t look back, and not blush. He reached over, delicately pulling you into his side—it was only then that you realized how closely he held you, and how the gentle incline of the hill brought you almost eye to eye with him.

One side of his mouth twitched. "Your cheeks are like cherries." he chortled, delighted.

You tucked your chin into the wool of his coat. "It's cold," you said, defensively. He shook his head. "I am not complaining. I think they're rather charming. They make you look like a winter nymph.”

“I find that really offensive.” you grumble in response, the forest nymph and fairy blood in you disliking the comparison all together. He laughs, warmly, and pulls you even closer. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ S e u n g m i n ] finds out you’re a [ W i t c h ]

His initial reaction: [ R e l u c t a n t ]

^ he’s highly reliable, it’s in his blood to keep up with commitments. People often completely rely on him to complete complicated tasks with efficiency and perfection as he is naturally very rational. It’s that rational side of his mind that will force him to listen to your explanation to the end.

^ he would never, consciously, let you down; he consistently gives his best to meet your expectations. He’s the first to answer your call and the last to leave a situation when you’re in need. This will be beneficial to you as he will be compelled to stop, listen and hear you out.

^ like Felix, he is extremely analytical. He will think everything through—weighing the options, good and bad—before making a decision about your relationship.

^ at first he’ll be quite reluctant, hesitant and unwilling to budge in his prejudice. It’s something he can’t help, growing up believing witches are evil, dark, dangerous and manipulative. But deep down he knows you, and this will be all he needs to encourage understanding and acceptance.

^ he’s a problem solver. He likes to tackle problems of close ones and the people around him. At first it might seem like he’s trying to control the situation, but you will soon realize that he is only analyzing your situation to find ways of helping you improve your life.

^ he can be critical at times, overly demanding. It’s because he already has a clear picture in his mind about how things should be done. But he’s also open to change, and once he comes to terms with your witchy ways, he will become the most supportive boyfriend you could ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “So tell me about it,” he interjected, pulling you away from your inner dialogue.

“What?” you look up from your study table, eyes meeting his across the room.

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch? Do you practice Black Magic? Have you ever put me under a spell?” his face is blank, expressionless, but his voice gives away his anger and confusion.

“There is no such thing as White Magic or Black Magic.” you turn you head away from him, unable to accept him being so cold and cruel to you. “If you are participating in magic, you are interfering with the natural order of how life would have developed without your hand in it. You are manipulating reality to suit your own personal needs. Regardless of whether you perceive it as "positive" or "white light", you are manipulating life. And just like life, it’s not black and white, all good or all bad.” you trail off, your stomach in knots. It’s best to be truthful, you know this, but it hurts you to think that something like this could damage you relationship. Or worse, end it. You feel the telltale signs of tears forming in your eyes, the heat almost unbearable.

“And no, I’ve never—I would never use it on you.” there is a brief silence and despite him approaching you, stepping much closer, you resolutely keep your eyes lowered.

“Can you tell me about them?” his voice was much softer now, much too close. You look up into his eyes and realize he’s referring to the plants on your bed side table. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, slowly stand up from the chair and turn towards your bed.

“These are tropical palms. They bring strong solar energy into your home that break up stale energy, and keep your home safe from nasty spiritual entities.” you trail off, carefully watching his expression. “This right here is African violet, and it’s associated with love and magic. But I use it because it’s vibrant purple flowers pull lunar energy into your home. Lunar energy is most important to those in my coven.” you whisper, the vivid memory of your grandmother and aunt surrounding themselves, filling their homes, with African violets almost brings tears to your eyes. “Aloe is associated with the water element because the gel inside the leaves. They’re cooling and healing.” you continue on, pulling yourself out of your reminiscing.

Finally you turn to the last plant, your moms personal favorite. “The clusters of star shaped flowers that grow on the long tendrils of the hoya, also called a wax plant, produce truly intoxicating nectar whose aroma fills the whole house. It also bestows blessings on anyone who smells it.” You wait for him to say something, still avoiding his unnerving stare, unsure you want to even see his reaction.

“This stuff? These plants? They really mean a lot to you, don’t they?” his voice is barely there, a whisper, but his words still have the same affect. You blink, once, twice, and the tears you were so set on holding back, fall.

Suddenly he’s there, pulling you closer to him, guiding your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. His warm embrace is enough to comfort you by itself but he still whispers to you, “It’s okay, it’ll be okay. I’m not mad. I won’t leave you. It’s okay.” And, for once, you truly believe it.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ M i n h o ] finds out you’re a [ S h a p e s h i f t e r ]

His initial reaction: [ E n t h r a l l e d ]

^ he’s focused and competitive. When he wants something he just goes for it. Also, when he sets his sight on something (you) he allows very few things to get in his way and does anything to achieve his goal (to be with you.) This focus, this competitive nature, will keep him present and attentive during your confession.

^ he’s also extremely brave and daring. He isn’t afraid of challenges in life, so what appears to be a crazy risk to more conservative people is just a normal day for the brave-hearted Minho. Because of this, he won’t be afraid. When you tell him, show him, what you really are—he’ll be more enthralled than fearful or confused.

^ one of the great things about Minho is his loyalty to you. He values trust and honesty making him a fiercely loyal boyfriend, and he expects you to be the same way. That being said, he most likely will be upset that you felt the need to keep such a secret. But he will quickly get over it, dismiss those feelings, once he realizes just how honest you’re being with him in the present. ^ he respects you and treats you with amazing loyalty, generosity and kindness. Him finding out you’re a shapeshifter definitely will not change that.

^ however, it most likely will take him a hot second to be content within your relationship dynamic again, as a part of him perceived your lack of truthfulness as disloyalty. There's a pretty good chance that your actions will cause some big-time resentment to him, at least for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “It’s okay, I mean if you want to, if you need to—” he trails off, his eyes sympathetic. “I’m okay with it.”

You look at him ready to cry again. Not out of pain. Not out of need. But because his words rub that part of your soul that suffers, that wants to be explored like a virgin land that has remained intact for centuries and craves to be occupied, appreciated and transformed. So you let yourself go.

You groan as your limbs lessen into shorter proportions and your neck stretches. Auburn-coloured fur emerged upon your fevered skin, and the sounds of your bones cracking, shifting in an echo around the cold mountain side. Your snout elongates and your teeth sharpen.

You were panting and, with one last shudder, your body slides from human to fox in a crack. Minho stood there, face drawn up in a twisted expression full of empathetic pain, watching the frost dissipate on your hot tongue, sending tiny rivulets of steam into the air. In this form, the world was sharp and clear, he was sharp and clear. You never realized how many different colors of shadow there were, how the angles of his face cast such an array of shade. It made you savor the dark beauty of the cold evening even more.

Minutes passed by—him staring at you, and you staring at him—both of you almost caught in a trance. When a little blue butterfly fluttered up to you, and landed on your snout. You blinked at it and it fluttered to your ear; it was winter, cold and lifeless on the mountain side, why were there suddenly butterflies? A big yellow butterfly gently floats over and lands on your paw, and as if reading your mind, Minho cocks his head to the right, “Well, that’s different.”

Soon a whole swarm of them float up and down around you, like a swirl of multicolored petals. It happened once before, in your backyard, when you shifted on a late afternoon.

Your magic must be strong enough, in that moment, to attract them—despite the weather and location. Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason you made them feel safe and they gravitated to you like iron shavings to a magnet. Minho let out a quiet giggle as a bigger butterfly landed on your forehead and you shook it off, affronted. Resisting the urge to fight the assault, you took a step back. They ruined your ferocious badass image, but you’d have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.

Now if a baby deer frolicked out from between the mountains and tried to cuddle up, you would yip. You wouldn’t bite it, but you would most definitely yip, maybe even growl. You had your limits. Minho slowly approached you and reached out, his fingers hesitant. You tilted your head down, letting him touch your ears. His hand trembled slightly as he caressed the fluffy protrusion. You knew they were warmer than he thought they’d be, a living extension of the human inside. He petted your pelt next, charmed by the coarse fur and the feel of your muscles bunching and moving underneath. Finishing off with your tale, he ran his fingers through it, slowly, thoroughly.

Sitting back, he winked down at you. "You probably get this a lot, but…I like your backside.” he laughed at your annoyed yip. “What? It’s so fluffy.” You stretch back into human form, the change much easier in reverse, and look up at him from the ground. “Always gotta be the smartass, don’t you?” you roll your eyes, with a smile.

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To the beautiful anon who requested a supernatural s/o reaction [Stray Kids,] I hope you like it!!! 😅😅 It was superrrr fun to do, so thank you for the request, loveee! 🥰

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kpop-zone · 4 years

Text

Blackpink reaction to their s/o crying because of a nightmare about them

A/N: Sorry for the Blackpink overload, I promise to post for other groups soon!

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“So you have time to meet up with your idol friends but you can’t even make it home for our anniversary?”

You yelled, while tears of desperation and hurt were threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I can’t believe how possessive you are.”

Your girlfriend scoffed, making you look at her in disbelief. Her reaction was absolutely irrational. How could she discard your feelings like that?

“Possessive? You call it possessive when I want to celebrate our anniversary?”

You asked in hopes to get her to overthink her statement, but your girlfriend just rolled her eyes.

“Yes. What’s next? Should I cancel our tour because you can’t stay home alone?”

The scorn in her voice cut off your air supply, making you stare at her wordlessly. Your girlfriend had never been so coldhearted before. Where was this coming from?

“Why are you saying this? You know that I support your career. I just want to spend some time with you every once in a while, is that too much to ask?”

You choked out, not being able to hold back your tears anymore.

“Yes, it is, because I don’t want to spend time with you anymore. I’m tired of this relationship; it’s just a burden anyways.”

No bullet in this world could have managed to hurt you more than those words. You felt like your heart had just burst into a million pieces, making you want to scream in pain, but no matter how wide you opened your mouth, no sound could escape, making you grasp your hair in frustration.

“You are pathetic. It’s over, Y/N.”

Your girlfriend laughed maliciously before turning on her heel to walk out the apartment. You wanted to run after her, but your feet were glued to the spot. They felt heavier than cement and you couldn’t take a single step forward nor scream out her name. You twisted and turned to break free from your shackles until a gut-wrenching scream finally made the walls around you crumble.

With a jolt you shot forward, suddenly not finding yourself in the living room, however, but in your bedroom instead. Your throat felt hoarse and your chest was rising and falling in a violent pace. Nothing made sense anymore. How did you get here? Everything was blurry and the last thing you remembered was your girlfriend leaving you behind. Panicked you whipped your head to the side, just to find an empty bed.

“Jagi?”

You called out, but the apartment stayed silent.

This couldn’t be. Everything must have been a bad dream. But where was your girlfriend then? It was already 4 am; she should be laying right beside you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes scanned the room for anything to stop you from spiraling; anything to tell you that it was just a dream.

“Wake up.”

You mumbled under your breath over and over again, but the nightmare didn’t stop; you stayed in an empty bedroom.

A broken sob escaped your lips and you buried your face in your hands. Suddenly, however, the door to your bedroom flew open.

Jisoo

Jisoo munched happily on her fried chicken while entering the apartment without a care about the ungodly hour, when noise from the bedroom suddenly made her stop in her movements. Confused she pricked up her ears; you were supposed to be sleeping like everybody else at 4 am, opposing to her who hadn’t been able to sleep and played games all night until her hunger had expelled her from the couch. Jisoo just stood there and listened for a while, but eventually more noise from the bedroom made her drag her feet in its direction. Silently, she opened the door to find you sitting on the bed. The room was dark, but she could see that you were moving, causing her to turn on the light.

You jumped in surprise and looked at her with wide eyes, making Jisoo realize that you were crying. Perplexed she looked at you for a moment, not knowing how to handle this situation.

“J-jagi what’s wrong?”

She stuttered, because she had never seen you cry before.

“I thought you were gone.”

You sobbed, finally ripping Jisoo out of her helplessness.

She stumbled to your side and awkwardly wrapped an arm around you, hoping that it would help you calm down.

“Gone? I was just getting some chicken...”

Jisoo mumbled confused.

She didn’t know why you were so distraught. It hadn’t been the first time that she had pulled an all-nighter instead of sleeping next to you. She thought about possible reasons for your state while patting your back soothingly until you eventually piped up again.

“You...yelling...pathetic...left.”

Your sobs swallowed most of your words, but slowly Jisoo started to make sense of this. You seemed to have had a nightmare and were still a little dazed because of it. Therefore, she pushed you back to be able to cup your face and look at you.

“Hey... it was just a dream. I was just out for a second to get some food. I’m here now.”

Jisoo said softly while wiping away your tears.

She was a little insecure whether her words were helpful, because none of you were usually the emotional type. But when your sobs slowly died down, she knew that she had done the right thing and quickly pulled you against her body to rock you back and forth. Eventually your sobs ceased, and you relaxed in her arms, causing her to lean back.

“I still have some chicken in the living room...”

A cheeky grin played on her lips and managed to elicit a giggle from you, indicating that you were doing a lot better now.

“Who the hell buys chicken at 4 in the morning?”

You shook your head in disbelief but Jisoo only shrugged before leaping to her feet and holding out her hand. Without hesitation you grabbed it and the two of you went into the kitchen where you started to have very early breakfast.

Although you were babbling like usual while eating, Jisoo couldn’t help but glance at you from time to time to make sure that you were really feeling alright. Your sudden outburst had completely caught her off guard and a bad conscious was nagging on her, because she hadn’t been there when you woke up from your dream. From now on, she would make sure to at least leave a message whenever she would go out at night.

Jennie

Jennie sighed tiredly as she unlocked the door. It was good to have friends, but in moments like these, she wished that she had less complicated ones. One of them had been dumped by her boyfriend the fifth time already and had called her over. Naturally, Jennie didn’t hesitate a second before agreeing to take care of her and stayed with her until she was feeling better. Now, however, it was already 4 am and Jennie knew that she would be exhausted the rest of the day.

With her eyes already halfway closed, she dragged her feet to the bedroom and silently slipped inside. Once her gaze fell on the bed though, she yelped in shock. Contrary to her expectations, she didn’t find your sleeping figure. Instead, you were sitting there motionlessly.

“Jesus Y/N, what are you-“

Jennie was about to scold you for scaring her like that when she suddenly realized that you were crying.

Quickly she rushed to you and lifted your chin up to look into your eyes.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Jennie scanned your body for any symptoms but couldn’t find any.

“I dreamt that you left me.”

You sobbed eventually, making Jennie gasp.

“What? Why would you dream that? Of course not!”

She exclaimed upset before pulling you into her arms.

“Don’t ever think that again. I would never leave you.”

Comforting words sputtered out her mouth until you were resting in her arms completely relaxed. Only then she gently pushed you down on the bed and placed herself right next to you, so that you were laying face to face. Softly, she stroked your cheeks and whispered sweet nothings, causing your eyelids to fall shut eventually. For her, however, this night shouldn’t hold more sleep. Your trembling body had made her mind restless and now she couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep in case another nightmare would be haunting you.

Never again, she wanted to see you cry like that.

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung huffed annoyed as soon as she had closed the door. She had forgotten her company ID; like always. Quickly she fished out her keys from her bag and unlocked again before rushing to the living room where she had probably put the ID somewhere. It didn’t take her long to find it and she instantly turned on her heel to get going for the meeting that she would probably be late to when a weird noise from the bedroom made her come to an abrupt halt. The clock on the wall was telling her that she should leave immediately, but an uneasy feeling made her walk to the origin of the noise. Chaeyoung was just a few steps away from the bedroom, when she realized that she was hearing crying sounds. Panicked, she dashed forward and threw the door open to see you sitting on the bed with your head buried in your hands.

Without hesitation, she ran to your side and wrapped her arms around you.

“Oh my god, baby, why are you crying?”

She asked while stroking your back lovingly.

You had never cried before, so Chaeyoung was immediately on high alert. Something really bad must have happened. But she didn’t want to press you to answer. First, you needed to calm down. Therefore, she hummed random melodies into your ear and kept caressing your skin until your breathing had come back to a normal rhythm again. Only then, you broke free from her embrace and looked at her with puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

You apologized, but Chaeyoung immediately cupped your face and shook her head.

“What are you doing? Don’t apologize. You can always cry if you feel like it.”

She tried to calm you before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“But... why did you cry? Can you talk about it?”

Chaeyoung was careful not to overstep any boundaries. She didn’t want to make you talk if you didn’t want to.

“It’s stupid... I just dreamt that you were leaving me. It felt so real and when you were not laying next to me...”

Your voice sounded more upset with every word, causing Chaeyoung to grab your hand and squeeze it soothingly.

“It’s ok, it’s not stupid. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I should have reminded you again that I had this early meeting today.”

Chaeyoung cursed herself inwardly for not leaving you a little note.

“Are you feeling better though?”

You nodded quickly, making her heart finally stop racing. Seeing you cry like this for the first time had really scared her.

“I’m fine. You can go to your meeting now.”

Chaeyoung was a little hesitant to leave, but after you had assured her that you would just sleep a little more, she finally left the apartment. In her thoughts, however, she was with you the whole morning, because she couldn’t stop pondering about why you had had that dream in the first place. Were you concerned about your relationship? Didn’t she tell you that she loved you enough?

As soon as she came home, the two of you definitely had to talk about this incident again.

Lalisa

Lisa entered the apartment with a wide grin on her face. Although she had had to leave in the middle of the night and only returned in the early morning hours, she had enjoyed every second of the video shoot for her new dance performance. Happily, she skipped to the bedroom, but as soon as she opened the door, her cheerfulness vanished into thin air. The dawn lit up the room and she saw you sitting on the bed while sobs were shaking your whole body. Lisa was completely taken aback, but her feet automatically brought her to you. Gently, she laid her hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump in surprise.

“It’s ok, it’s me. What happened?”

She asked concerned, but you only sobbed louder when your eyes fell on her.

Nevertheless, you wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed your body into hers. Lisa furrowed her brow in confusion and squeezed you tightly.

Why were you crying? Did she do something wrong?

Concerned she kept hugging you, but with every minute her anxiety grew stronger and when you finally had calmed down, Lisa had already thought about every possible reason for your breakdown in her head.

“Are you ok? Did I do something?”

She asked nervously once you pulled away, but you instantly shook your head, making her exhale reassured.

“What is it then, baby? You are scaring me...”

Seeing you like this drove Lisa nearly crazy. She just wanted to know the reason in order to make you feel better.

“I dreamt that we broke up and when I woke up and you weren’t there, I couldn’t really tell if it was just a dream or not.”

Lisa almost sighed in relief when she heard that nothing serious had happened, but when she saw that you were embarrassed, she quickly sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through your hair.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I had my video shoot today, remember? I would never break up with you, you know that.”

You nodded in response and Lisa quickly pecked your lips.

“Do you want to go back to sleep or do you rather want to stay awake?”

Although she felt exhausted from the shoot, Lisa wanted to leave this decision up to you. Every time she had a nightmare, she was afraid of falling asleep again. Therefore, she wouldn’t mind staying awake for you.

“Let’s cuddle?”

You asked sheepishly and Lisa immediately agreed.

Together the two of you snuggled up in the bed and chatted about the video shoot until none of you could keep your eyes open. But despite letting sleep take over her body, Lisa kept her arms securely wrapped around you. She wouldn’t let another nightmare haunt you today.

#blackpink reactions #blackpink #jisoo #jennie #rose #chaeyoung #lalisa #blackpink imagines #girl group reactions #girl group #kpop reactions #kpop

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anartisticexpression · 3 years

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Mystery Skulls -The Future

Alright, now that I’ve watched “Mystery Skulls Animated -The Future” and am now done screaming into a pillow because I never could have predicted THAT ending in a million years, let me get some initial thoughts down…

*Whenever I listen to “Enemy” I always think how perfectly this fits with not only Arthur and Lewis’s situation but Mystery and Shiromori’s as well so cue a pleased, “Oh!” from me that a snippet of “Enemy” made its way into the beginning of this video. Very nice!

*I’ve completely been expecting for two years that, as soon as doubt crept over Lewis’s skull, that the cave would disappear and Arthur would simply land back in the truck unharmed so that wasn’t a surprise. What WAS a surprise is that, I admit, I had fully convinced myself that the gunshot sound at the end of “Hellbent” was Lance shooting Shiromori so the reveal that it was Lewis all along that was the target really made me dramatically gasp!

*Gunshots obviously don’t affect a ghost… except for the one that went through Lewis’s chest aka his death wound which is one of those details that make you go, “Actually that DOES make a kind of sense. Ghosts WOULD be sensitive in the area that killed them.”

It also shows that Lewis isn’t entirely in control of his actions. Ghosts are beings of pure emotion and it doesn’t take much for him to go right back to irrational anger and rough up Lance which is… not cool, man. He’s going to be sorry later when he can think straight!

*The bit with the changing photograph… At this moment in time, my early thoughts are that with the first photo being only of Lewis and Vivi, it symbolises that Lewis has kept only Vivi in his heart.

Arthur is a green-eyed demon who Lewis must get Vivi away from before it is too late and Mystery is just a dog. He’s irrelevant.

However, when Arthur touches the locket, it reactivates another memory, one in which they were all a solid group and that they were happy. Lewis is clearly shocked to see this new image and when focus is also brought to Lewis’ eye(s) being visible in this photo (I’m going to set aside that they were visible in “Ghost” as well until the photo was redrawn for “Freaking Out” as I think this is pretty much a last minute idea in-between videos) it also serves to remind him of who he used to be. Eyes are a window to the soul after all and I think a small truth just broke through Lewis’ anger there enough to make him drop to his knees and weep black tears. Very effective especially when this is paired with the line, “I’m worried ‘bout the future… and fucking with the past.”

And then of course the truck blows up before they can dwell on this any longer! I love Arthur and Lewis’ dazed, “What just happened?” faces!

*Vivi takes the fact that her dog is actually a fox very well but then again she also has a ghost, a plant lady and her own ancestor connecting with her across the centuries to mentally process as well so that’s understandable.

She’s also a surprisingly effective badass (granted she is getting some help from Mushi) which was brilliantly displayed in the animation, the camera movement, the angles, the special effects… everything on screen! Not bad for someone who has spent most of this series either running from things or being unconscious! A certain Vine though, wouldn’t get out of my head -“Don’t fuck with me! I have the power of God AND anime on my side!!”

*Heh. Shiromori had a manicure in-between videos. ;)

*I really didn’t have any solid ideas as to how the Shiromori problem would be resolved but I still wasn’t expecting that! I actually shrieked out loud and I’m usually so quiet on first viewings! The horror and regret over both her and Mystery’s faces though (those are definitely, -“I didn’t want things to end like this”- tears in Shiro’s eyes) tell me that she doesn’t deserve this. She’s just a plant that let jealousy and a blood-addiction get out of control!

The only thing that gives me hope is that her heart wasn’t actually destroyed; it’s just flown off somewhere across the parking lot. She can still be regrown and start anew!

*The ending. The very definition of a, “Well, I didn’t see THAT one coming!” ending. I guess that confirms a thought that the Green Spirit can only really possess a heart that is in turmoil, one that has its guard down so to speak.

I presume it’s easy for it to grab onto “simple things” such as small animals and severed arms but when it comes to complicated living humans and magical creatures it has to wait for the right circumstances and Mystery’s heart breaking over Shiromori’s fate is just what it was looking for.

Of course there is still the question of why it is doing this. Yes, Mystery is the biggest threat so it’s taking him out of the equation but is its murderous target the whole of Mystery Skulls or just Lewis? The fact that Lewis is adopted and doesn’t know where he came from is really significant to me. It raises the possibility that the Green Spirit killed Lewis as part of a blood vendetta against his birth family that he is not even aware of. I’ll have to wait and see whether the Green Spirit and Lewis’ true backstory is even something that can be told in music video form but I really don’t think it’s causing all this death and chaos simply because it’s bored and doing this would be funny.

*I do notice that Mystery has two plasters on his heart which have to refer to his two missing tails that the Ancestor has to be responsible for. They both appear to grow back though, both as a reaction to Vivi and Shiromori getting really hurt and to the Green Spirit’s possession; it’s not only taking him over but restoring him back to his prime… just with some added decoration (love the collar changing from a ‘?’ to a ‘!?’).

I’m not sure what to think that Vivi’s shade of blue and Shiromori’s white comes pouring out of the plastered areas when they are injured nor of all the liquid seeping out of Mystery’s heart that matches several characters’ colour scheme… and then his mouth turns green… Possibly it is just meant to represent all the different thoughts and feelings that Mystery is going through right now; all the emotions concerning everyone in his life and the mistakes he’s made with them that the Green Spirit is able to latch on to and corrupt from within.

Possibly when Mystery removed the Green Spirit in the first place, a piece of it remained inside him that the arm can connect with… because I don’t think a zombified arm literally crawled inside Mystery’s wounds and grabbed his heart at the end there!

*For most of the video, I was gasping, shrieking and letting off the occasional distressed whimper… but I really had to clap a hand over my mouth hard to stop myself from screaming with laughter at the end credit scene! Vivi and Arthur just spoke for us all, didn’t they…!?

*Final thoughts: I’ve been really hoping that the song “Magic” will be picked for the last part; it just sounds like a finale song, it speaks to me of happy endings and I have seen posts by Mystery Ben from a few years ago that he would really like to use “Magic” at some point in this story… but with this cliff-hanger, I’m having a hard time picturing the finale going cheerfully right into this peppy tune!

They could of course begin with a sample of a completely different darker song at first and then go into “Magic” but still! I’m not sure now… Wait… a few years ago, an artist named Yuramec posted an animatic of “Magic” on Youtube featuring their own character, Leopold being chased by a demonic spirit (that also has three eyes!) until the spirit is battered down with good magic and turns back into an innocent little ghost girl. Mystery Ben made a comment (Which must be on his Tumblr as I can’t find it on YouTube but I KNOW I’m not making this up!) saying that it was a funny coincidence that this video contains some ideas that he also wanted to implement for MSA but of course, he couldn’t say which ideas due to spoilers… Baring in mind as to what has happened to Mystery and his corruption, is this… is this what Ben was talking about…?

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls the future #mystery skulls animated #Lewis pepper #arthur kingsmen #Vivi Yukino #mystery the kitsune #shiromori #mystery looks like something out of soul eater #i am both excited and terrified

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oneblueumbrella · 4 years

Text

Thirty-minute Thursday

Howdy folks, in the interest of making sure I write on a regular basis, I’m starting Thirty-minute Thursday. The idea literally pulled me out of bed last night so I could scribble it down.

Basically: I grabbed a plot bunny, set my timer, and wrote for thirty minutes. I did one single pass edit, mostly for typos, and now I’m sending it out to you.

I hope to continue this each week, both to stretch my writing muscles and ease back into the tumblr-verse.

FORTUNE

PROMPT: "A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life," the fortune cookie says to Greg. Greg laughs in the Chinese restaurant. He doesn't believe in those things... Two minutes later, Greg bumps into Mycroft Holmes…

Greg rolled his eyes, re-reading the words. Outwardly, he was pretty sure he looked as sceptical as anyone would, reading such a fortune. Nobody would know how much those words had hit home. If he was a believer in karma, or fate or whatever, it might spark hope. Instead, Greg knew both karma and fate were human constructs, designed to make some people feel better about themselves, or less responsible for their lives or something.

If karma was real, he had no idea what he’d done to deserve Karen. Clearly he’d pissed off someone, because even now she affected his life. He wouldn’t be standing in this dodgy Chinese, the last place still open near work on a Thursday night, closer to midnight than he’d care to admit. Overtime wouldn’t matter this much; he’d be able to afford some decent food, and without all the hours at work, he could cook it for himself.

But she took so much when she left – literally and figuratively – so he was the guy who took on plenty of overtime when it was available. Greg was pretty sure people thought he was a workaholic, or maybe just a boring lonely old guy. That was closer to the truth than he cared for. A broke, lonely old guy was more like it. He was only boring because there was no time for anything interesting anymore. A quiet pint sometimes, and the football if he was lucky, but otherwise, life had not ended up where he thought it would.

If only karma was real. Greg reckoned he’d done some good in his life, tried to help people, let little old ladies go ahead of him at the checkout. Sure, there were some stupid decisions when he was younger, but nobody was hurt by a teenage boy scribbling on a wall somewhere, or wearing truly terrible clothing, or listening to awful music. He’d be due something good by now, by his reckoning.

Smoothing the paper out, Greg read it again.

A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life.

He’d thought all those things applied to Karen, when they met; now he knew better. Knew to look past the superficial to find beauty, past loud statements to find quiet intelligence. Had seen it in people he was too afraid to approach.

Right now, when he thought of beautiful and smart and loving, one figure rose in his mind, and nobody in the world would be able to guess who it was. He’d learned to read the quiet mannerisms, to see the subdued reactions to the world surrounding that astonishing man. More than Sherlock, Greg appreciated the understated gestures of love Mycroft Holmes showed his brother. The two of them were the most undemonstrative people Greg had ever met, and he often wondered what their childhood had been like, to produce adults so different and yet so similar. He’d never had the courage to ask either man.

“Here you go!” the cheery man behind the counter said, passing Greg his order.

“Thanks,” he said, cradling the thin bag. It was hot, but he made it out the door before he had to shuffle it to the other hand.

As he did, the fortune cookie paper slid from his grasp, and Greg automatically ducked to grab it. Something crashed into his head, or he crashed into it, and with disconcerting suddenness he was sitting on the ground, blinking, his head pounding and stars dancing across his vision.

“Shit,” he said finally, more out of shock than anything else. What the hell did he hit his head on? There was nothing in the middle of the footpath, surely?

“Are you hurt?”

The voice was familiar, and Greg froze. Surely not. Not here, at such a late hour. Not after the fortune cookie.

“I’m fine,” Greg said, scrambling up. “Hi, Mycroft.”

“Gregory,” came the response, along with a suppressed smile. “I apologise, I was reaching down to pick up your…”

“Fortune,” Greg said with a self-conscious smile.

“Ah,” Mycroft replied. “An important prediction, if you are so intent on keeping it?”

“Maybe,” Greg said with a smile. He closed his fist around the paper. “Right now I’m more interested in this, though.” He raised the bag containing his dinner.

“You have not yet eaten?” Mycroft asked, his eyebrows raised.

“It was a late one,” Greg agreed.

Mycroft hesitated. “Might I offer you a lift home?” he asked.

“Sure,” Greg said. He ignored the irrational beating of his heart at this. Mycroft had given him a lift before, and it was hardly the start of anything significant.

“I have often wondered,” Mycroft said when they were settled in his car, “why it is you take on quite so much overtime.”

The direct question made Greg blink. “I beg your pardon?” he asked blankly.

“I apologise,” Mycroft said. “Last time we spoke, you encouraged me to ask a question when I hesitated. I understood it was acceptable to do so.”

“Yeah,” Greg agreed. “I did. Sorry. Just tired.”

“Yes,” Mycroft replied. “Hence my question. I apologise if it is too personal.”

“Not at all,” Greg replied. He sighed. This was the point he could laugh it off, change the subject; Mycroft would certainly take his lead. But he was tired, and it was a legitimate question, and if he was being honest with himself, it would be nice to talk to someone that wasn’t taking his order – either at work or in the dodgy Chinese.

“I have to,” he said finally. At Mycroft’s raised eyebrow, he added, “My ex-wife cleaned me out. Pension’s only a few years off but it’s not enough to stay in London, so I’m trying to save as much as I can until then.”

Mycroft stared at him. “I see,” he replied finally.

Greg shrugged. “It’s alright,” he said. “My clearance rate’s pretty high with all the extra hours. Might even get a promotion before I retire. That’d make the pension a bit better.”

“Gregory,” Mycroft said, “Please allow me to offer you an assurance.” He drew a deep breath. “Should you ever lack for a place to live in London, I will gladly accommodate you. I have access to a number-”

“No, Mycroft,” Greg interrupted, feeling himself flush. “I mean, thanks, but it’s fine.”

“It is not,” Mycroft replied with a heat that surprised Greg. “To be left in such a situation is far from fine, and if I am in a position to rectify it, I would wish to do so.”

Greg stared for long enough that Mycroft eventually looked away. It was fairly dark, but Greg would bet money Mycroft was flushing.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you offer that to someone?”

“Not to someone,” Mycroft corrected him. “To you.”

“Me?” Greg asked.

“Yes,” Mycroft replied simply, and to Greg’s astonishment his usually reserved face showed a range of emotion Greg was not even sure Mycroft even felt.

Holy shit.

“Oh,” Greg replied. He glanced out the window, blinking. “We’re at my place.”

Mycroft nodded. Greg’s heart pounded as he said, “Can I offer you a drink?”

“A drink?” Mycroft repeated.

“Or not,” Greg said. “A fortune, maybe.” He handed over the paper. “I think I’ve already got mine.”

Mycroft read the tiny words, his mouth dropping open at the implied meaning. When he looked back up at Greg, it was with a question clear in his eyes.

Greg nodded, heart in his mouth.

Mycroft returned the nod, swallowing hard as he followed Greg from the car.

+++

Five months later, the fortune sat framed in the entrance to a small, comfortable flat in central London, close to Westminster and Scotland Yard.

Five years after that, it adorned the bedside table of a cottage in a very tiny village an hour from central London, in which two very happy men had agreed to retire.

#mystrade #thirtyminutethursday #iamwriting

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scenarioslovers · 4 years

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Happily Ever After | Suga

This was requested by @mytrash-mylife Hope you like it dear.

His eyes were intense. He was staring at you as if he wanted to memorize every feature of your face. You smiled and shy-ed away from him. But his grip around your waist was strong keeping you close to his bare chest. A thin white bed blanket was pulled over your bare shoulders, keeping you away from the coldness of his room.

“You know,” He started, and you stopped squirming in his arms as you looked at him with attention.

“I know…” You said slowly, giving him away to speak. You had been almost with Yoongi for a whole year now. Everyone doubted that your relationship with him will last six months, but apparently, everyone was wrong. Because Yoongi did really care about you. Yoongi loved you and it did not matter if the whole world did not believe that because you did.

“I want to live with you.” He suddenly said out of nowhere and you looked at him confused. “Forever.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his last remark.

“Yoongi,” You searched in his eyes for the meaning behind his words. They were sparkling against the nightstand lamp lights. They were filled with something that made your stomach tightening.

“I am not really the romantic type of guys who will create an event for something like this.” He said as he sat himself up and leaned his back on the bed’s frame. You followed him as you wrapped the blanket around your chest. “I can’t ask you this in front of everyone, or in a public place. But I know that I want this so much.”

He smiled at you before reaching for the upper drawer on the nightstand next to him. He pulled out a black velvet box and your eyes snapped to his face. “This isn’t a prank?”

“I would never prank you on something like this.” He chuckled softly before opening the box showing a diamond ring. The diamond took a heart shape, it sparked when the soft light falls over it. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“Oh god, I never thought the Min Yoongi would propose to me.” You threw your arms around his neck, you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, tightening the hug. “Of course, I will marry you. Yes, Yes, Yes.”

At that moment, you felt like everything was brightening for you. Yoongi loved you way more than you had even imagined, and you loved him just the same. Everyone was wrong about him. Everyone thought that it would never work out.

However, happiness had opened its arms to you. Welcoming you to a happy life filled with love and Yoongi.

You really thought that by his proposal everything was over. No one will stand between the two of you. You are his and he is yours.

That was all until… The nightmare began. Something, you had never thought would be an obstruct.

¬¬

It was a week after Yoongi’s proposal. Both of you had decided to move in together within the next two weeks. You thought it would be respectful if you told your parents about it.

Yoongi agreed with you and the next day he was in front of your door where you lived with your parents. Flowers in his hands and some fruits, your parents looked at you confused.

At this moment, you thought he looked so cute. He sprayed his hair black so he could look presentable to your parents. He even had a haircut, so his eyes were no longer covered by his hair. He was wearing khaki trousers, a dark brown belt, and a white shirt that was bottomed to the neck. He was totally trying so hard to impress your parents.

You reframed yourself, from jumping into his arms and give him a tight hug at this moment.

“Why are you here?” You snapped out of your thoughts when your father talked. You realized that you were still standing at the door. The stuff in Yoongi’s hand looked heavy that you reached out and took them. However, he kept the flowers in his hands before handing them to your mom.

Your parents knew about your boyfriend and his career. They met him multiple times, but they were one of those who thought that Yoongi was only playing with your feelings.

Yoongi looked at your father, his hands straightened at his side as he suddenly bowed at him out of nowhere. “Please allow me to ask for your daughter’s hand.”

Your mother gasped, and your mouth dropped in surprise. Your father looked at you in shook before looking at the young man bowing in respect before him. When Yoongi did not get an answer, he kneeled before your father while keeping his head down.

This time you gasped as you followed him to the ground, kneeling beside him.

“Please, sir, I would love to take your daughter as my wife, my lover,” Yoongi said in a confident voice.

Tears rushed into your eyes blurring your vision. The back of your throat burned as you swallowed your overwhelming emotions. A part of you feared your parent’s reaction. Your mom liked Yoongi, but your dad always complained about your relationship.

“Please, mom and dad,” You said as you looked up at them with puppy tearing eyes.

Your father sighed as he turned around and walked to the living room. Your heart dropped as your mother looked at both of you with petty. You glanced at Yoongi who still kneeling, his head still lowered to his chest, with respect.

Your heart ached for him. You reached to touch his clenched fist as you looked at your mother

“Mom,” you begged her with your eyes. That was when your dad’s voice said, “Aren’t you coming in? We need to talk about it.”

A spark of hope ignited in your chest. Yoongi’s head snapped up to you. Confusion wrote on his face. You shrugged, answering his unspeakable question as both of you looked at your mother who was smiling brightly.

“Seems like it’s okay.” Your mother whispered. “Just don’t show how existed you are. You know your father is a little protective over you and—”

“If you didn’t come in in 30 seconds, I am not going to agree to this marriage.”

Yoongi jumped on his feet as he bowed to your mother before hurrying inside the house. Your eyes widened at his sudden action as your lips stretched into a wide smile. You had never seen so eager to do anything other than music. Butterflies filled your abdominal cavity as you took your mother’s hand and followed her inside.

The hardest step was over. Or that what you had thought.

“And what do you do for a living?”

You squeezed your hand as you met her eyes. She had Yoongi’s sharp eyes. So cold that chills ran down your spin, making you shiver. It was the first time you meet her. Yoongi was not the kind to talk a lot about his family. So, you rarely met anyone of his family. Only his brother, once. When Yoongi took you on a date over at his brother’s restaurant.

“I am a writer. I work for the writing team at the same company as Yoongi’s” You tried to sound cheerful to ease the awkward atmosphere that was suffocating you. Nevertheless, that did not seem to work with Yoongi’s mother whose gaze was as sharp as a knife. Clearing your throat, you continued, “That’s how we meet.”

“So, you work at the same place as my son. So that is how you seduced him. Did you sleep with her? Is she pregnant?”

“MOM!” Yoongi snapped, as her sentences slapped you in the face like cold water. You could tell that Yoongi was shocked by his mother’s response as if he did not expect her to act this way. His face was turning red as his back straightened against his seat.

“Because pregnancy is the only reason, I can think of to make you take such an irrational decision on your own.” His mother fired back, as she looked at you again. Her words were sharper than swords. Cutting deep and deep inside as you listened to her.

“Did you intentionally get pregnant? Do you want to ruin my son’s career?”

“Mom, she isn’t pregnant stop saying those things to her.”

“Then, why?” Yoongi’s mother glared at her son. “Why her? Why giving up everything right now to marry…... her! She isn’t even Korean.”

“Actually, my father is Korean.” You said in your defence, but his mother rolled her eyes as she murmured. “That’s will not change anything.”

“Why not her? She did nothing to you to talk like this about her. Moreover, I am not giving up on anything. And it has to be her.” Yoongi reached for your hand. They were cold and small against his big warm hands. The simple touch of his, made you stop shaking for a little bit. Made you stop feeling useless and unloved. You had never experienced something like this before.

“She is different from us. Look at her. I am a little bit surprise that she speaks Korean well.”

“I am half Korean.” You murmured softly.

“Dear, I am not letting you ruin what I have built.”

“I am not here to ask for your permission, also definitely not here to make her listen to your hateful words. I was just informing you. This is the woman I love and the one I am ready to live my whole life with. Whether you liked it or not.”

Even though Yoongi’s words made your heart flutter, however, his words were too harsh that you felt so bad for his mom. You could not help but notice the similarity between them. Not only in features but also in their personality.

You also knew too well, that your parents would not let you get married to someone whose parents are against you. Yoongi was talking too highly without realizing the heavy meaning behind his words.

“Yoongi.” You tugged onto his hand as you shook your head. “You can’t be rude to your mother.”

His mother scoffed in her place as she rolled her eyes. “Look at her, acting so innocent. You cannot fool me, little girl. I am not my son, foolish enough not to see how sly you are. Marrying him so that you could stay in this country.”

“She was being nice, mother. Plus, she already said she is half Korean. It’s already her country.” You squeezed his hand, hoping that he would stop talking your side.

“Since when do you like nice girls? Moreover, a foreigner?” She snapped at him. “What about Minhee, Yoongi?”

Minhee.

You frowned at the unfamiliar name. Uneasiness filled you. Whoever she was, she sounded like bad news, but you decided to believe in Yoongi and not give more attention to the unknown girl.

“Mom, don’t,” Yoongi warned her. “I am not making the same mistake again. never again.”

“This marriage will not happen. I promise you, little girl if you can fool my son, you can never fool me. Let us not see each other again.” His mother emphasized her last word as she grabbed her bag and walked out of the restaurant.

“MOM!” Yoongi called after her, but she ignored him as the door of the restaurant shimmered behind her.

“Your mother hates me.” You sighed as you watched her till her red dress disappeared by the corner of the street.

“My mom doesn’t like anyone.” He sighed before running his hand through his hair. “I am sorry about this. I kind of knew something like this would happen. She is just a difficult person.”

“I didn’t like how you were rude to her.” You commented as you looked at your hand. The diamond ring blinked as it caught the reflection of the ceiling light. Its weight was now heavy on your finger. Somehow, you felt that you did not deserve that ring.

“She deserved it. She was rude to you first. I can’t believe her.”

“She is still your mom.” You turned your head slightly in his direction. You noticed how stressful he looked. His hair was everywhere from tugging into it too much. You reached out to brush it with your fingers in place. You loved how his strand felt soft at your fingertips. “I want her to accept me. I want her to love me. I want her to know how much I love her son.” You looked at his eyes as you cupped his face. “I want her to know that I can take care of you and that I will never break your heart.”

“I will never break your heart too.” His breath hitched as he spoke softly. His hand was tugging into the strands of hair behind your ears.

You smiled at him as he closed the gap between you both. Instead of his warm fluffy lips, something else soft touched your lips. You opened your eyes and a red rose welcomed you.

“I wanted to give you this earlier. But mom ruined the mood.” Yoongi said and your stomach squeezed. He had been surprising you with all the unexpected romantic gestures that he would never agree on doing.

When you saw how red his cheeks were, you knew there was a story behind this.

“Why do I feel like you lost a bet to the guys and they asked you to this?”

“Because that’s what exactly happened.”

You laughed as you hugged him. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“You are most welcome, love.”

You moved in with Yoongi a couple of days after he met your parents. Apparently, your parents kicked you out, telling you it was the right time to live on your own, getting used to life without them. You were so thankful to them but scared that they would find out about Yoongi’s parent objection to your marriage. They had been asking you when the two families could meet now that they would soon be one family.

You gave different answers each time, scared that they would be angry.

Another reason to be thankful to your parents is that if they had not let you go, you would not have seen such a beautiful sight every day.

Yoongi’s sleeping face.

He was sleeping on his stomach. An arm stretched beside him while the other wrapped around your waist. You smiled to yourself as you reached to touch his little nose. You were a few steps away from having this sight of him the very first thing in the morning every day, and forever and ever.

A part of you could not wait for your happily ever after, another part of you was so worried about the unknown future and what it hid from you.

“You are staring at me,” Yoongi said, groggily. His eyes close. He moved closer towards you, that his cheeks touched your shoulders. “You will fall in love with me.”

“I am already in love with you.” You whispered before kissing his forehead.

Slowly, Yoongi’s eyelid open and his sleepy gaze fall over your face. Your stomach flipped under his eyes as you could feel his thumb caressing the skin of your waist underneath your thin shirt.

“I am in love with you.” Yoongi raised himself by his elbow a little bit, enough for him to reach your lips and capture then in a slow passionate kiss. When he pulled away, he looked in your eyes. He could see that you were worried since the last time you met his mom. He told you to forget about her, but he could see the uneasiness in your face.

“I know you will melt her. She may seem cold, but she will come along. You know I am a little bit like her.” He said softly, as his hand reached behind the back of your neck as he played with the short hair there.

“You are a lot like her.” You rolled your eyes, jokingly and Yoongi chuckled softly.

“So, don’t worry. You already melt one, it will not take you long till you melt her.”

“I am just worried that she will not like me at all.” You said softly, looking away from him. “I kind of thought that my happy ending is here the moment you propose. I actually never have thought you would do it you know.” Yoongi smiled shyly as he listened to you. “Now, I feel like something is standing in the way of our happiness.”

“Hey.” He tipped your chin up with his index, gently enough so that you looked at him in the eyes. “When we first dated, do you remember when you used to think that I am in love with someone else.”

“Well, you and Hoseok seemed really close that I thought you were bisexual.” You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t mind if you were bisexual though. Just polygamy isn’t my thing.”

Yoongi laughed softly and you just loved how it was soft and musical in your ears. “And do you remember when I misunderstood you when you were just too busy with a project?”

“We almost broke up over this.” Your smile disappeared as you remembered how you used to fight every day because of it.

“But we didn’t. We never broke up because we get over every problem we face.” Yoongi pulled you closer to him, that your face was just a few inches away from his. “We will get married and stay together even if the whole world is against us. Do you understand?”

Your cheeks reddened as you nodded. Hearing these words from him, made you feel assured and safe.

As you leaned in for another kiss from him, the doorbell rang made you both jump in surprise. You laughed as you planted a quick kiss over his lips, before getting out of the bed.

“Who could it be?” You asked as you wrapped the silk robe around your slim body.

“I don’t know. I am not expecting anyone to visit us. Did you order something online?” Yoongi said, lazily as he started to get out of the bed.

You scanned your memory for any unforgotten order, but you could not think of anything. “I don’t think so.”

The doorbell rang again, many times, that anyone could think the police was the one behind the door. You threw a confused look at Yoongi before hurrying to catch the door.

When you opened the door, your heart dropped to the floor. A small figure of a woman in her late fifties was standing before her. You could not mistake the similarity. The same eyes and the same nose as your beloved fiancé. Beside her, suitcases were standing in a threatening way to get you out of the apartment.

“The cat got your tongue. I thought this would happen.” The woman snared as she pushed her way into the house.

Seconds later, Yoongi followed you and his eyes widened in shook. “What the hell are you doing here, mom?”

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