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kookblurx · 9 months

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what are we? - jjk

→ SUMMARY: both of you shared the same memories ... but not the same feelings?

→ GENRE: boyfriend au; slightly angsty; influencer Jungkook; secret dates; misunderstandings; jungkook is not good with feelings.

→ RATING: 18+

→ NOTE: <3 also because some people complained that i write about trigger topics: I ALWAYS write in the genre section if there will be triggers or what this au is about. i also mention the age rating. so please read all this stuff carefully and if you dont wanna read specific genres, please scroll. thanks.

BTS MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎˊ PLAYLIST FOR THIS ONESHOT

"Jungkook ... what are we?" "I dont know, does it matter?" " .... "

your fingers started to hurt from all the typing onto your phone. in the past few days it was nearly impossible to reach Jungkook. he was always busy hanging out with friends or jetting around the world. not once did he made time for you and you started to wonder why. why did he stopped caring for you? why did he suddenly ignored you? so many questions were running through your head as you looked down on your phone. he read your last message but as usual stopped responding. after another 10 minutes you putted your phone on the bedsite table. there was no use in waiting for an answer so you layed down with a sigh, placing an arm above your eyes. at the same time your mind drifted away, remembering all the memories you two shared with each other.

the day you met Jungkook for the first time was at your friends party. she bragged about how she knows someone "famous", one of those influencers, as she called them. Of course she invited the whole University campus to her little party, only to brag about him. You were invited too but nearly ditched her last minute. For you it didnt made much sense just to come by to check one of her "famous" friends out. Its probably another dude who no one knows beside her. thanks to your other friend you went to the party and it was a huge suprise. it wasnt some random influencer, it was Jeon Jungkook. A guy who's a heartthrob, a guy every girl in your class had a crush onn. no day goes by without someone mentioning his recent post or story on his SNS channels.

"what the heck Jisoo ... how is it possible that you know someone like him?" with a drink in your hand you immediately bombarded your friend with questions.

she didnt made a secret out of it. her father was a famous photographer and one day jungkook came into his studio. they all had a great time which ended in them becoming friends. jungkook got swarmed by many girls on the party so you didnt had a chance to talk to him. to tell him how inspiring he is with his fashion line. the luck was on your side as the party slowly came to an end, you only wanted to get some fresh air as you saw him leaning over the railing. jungkook had a beer in his hand as he turned into your direction. his long hair was tied into a half ponytail and you swore to yourself that you never saw someone as beautiful as him. the both of you started talking, exchanging contact infos after he promised to help you with your studies .. and that was the moment you two became friends.

from that moment on you were inseparable. junkook was hanging at your place whenever an assignment was coming up. the two of you had so much fun together that the time was flying by. your meet up extended to secret restaurant dates, of course he paid for all of it. another time he took you with him to one of those influencer events for his new clothing line. life was easy, the both of you were happy. laughing, teasing and cracking jokes all the time. sometimes jungkook even slept over as you two had many deep talks about the universe or about your friendship.

"i really cherish the moments with you y/n" as he rolled over to you, you realised for the first time that you felt more for him than just friendship.

even after realising that it didnt became akward between the two of you. on the contrary, jungkook was really open whenever it came to his own feelings. it didnt took long before you received a late night text from him. those 3 simple words made your heart skip as beat as some bubbles of happieness were rising inside of your stomach

"i love you, y/n" "... i love you too, jungkook"

pressing the phone against your chest you slept wonderful that night but as the morning came ... everything was in pieces again.

"fuck ... sorry, i think i drank too much last night ... i didnt meant to say that"

so many things were going through your head but the only solution for you was to lie. telling him that you were also out with friends, probably a bit drunk and that this text was meant for someone else.

after that it became weird between you too. jungkook started to ignore your messages whenever he felt of running away. supportive as you were, you still attended his events to show that you are there for him. in the meantime he started to release his own music, becoming more popular as he slowly got more and more out of reach for you. netherless you attended his solo concerts ... until one night. the night you couldnt take it anymore. your hands were shaking as you grabbed your phone, typing a message in hopes to reach him.

"i cant take this anymore ..."

as you were waiting for a reply you opened the gallery on your phone. scrolling through all the photos he had sent you over the years you couldnt help but cry. your finger was shaking as you deleted every single one of them. slowly ... before you reached the last one, a message popped up at the top of the screen.

"no, please. let me explain it." "where are you?"

another message. with a sigh you told him to meet you at your usual spot. the playground outside of the Campus. the area was secluded and no one would spy on him there. since jungkook became a world wide star it was harder for the both of you to meet up. around 2 in the morning you finally reached the playground. as usual jungkook was already there, leaning against the swings, waiting for you. he only waved at you before taking a step closer. both of his hands were hidden inside the pockets of his jeans as jungkook looked down onto the ground.

"explain .. i dont have that much time Koo" you were anxious as jungkook suddenly grabbed both of your hands. "i know i was stupid, giving you hope like that ... especially in the middle of the night. i ... im also sorry that i ignored you all of a sudden. you are my dearest friend .. i was an asshole"

normally you should be happy about his words, but those words only hurted you more. "dearest friend" thats what you were, nothing more? whats with all the nights he shared inside your bedroom, in the same bed as you? holding your hand or wrapping both of his arms around you. no, you werent just a friend. he wasnt just a friend, not for you. with a fast motion you pulled your hands away from him, making jungkook look up for the first time since you arrived. hurt was seen inside of his eyes, confusion and ... anxiety? why was someone anxious who doesnt feel anything about you?

"kook stop ... its okay yeah? i get it, we are friends and nothing else. so you dont need to apologize" jungkook bit down on his lips "its just .. im not good with my feelings .. so i needed to clear some things up" "its okay really"

it was a lie, you said goodbye to him with a lie. from that night on you were the one who ignored him because you couldnt bear it anymore. from videos on instagram you saw how distracted he was whenever he performed, something was bothering him. jungkook's eyes were full of hurt whenever the camera pointed at him. his hair got longer and messier, here and there was a new tattoo on his arm. somehow he was miserable but you couldnt point your finger on it why.

after 3 weeks without any contact you finally received a message from him. it was one sentence

"i miss you"

the moment you were reading those words you broke down crying. hot tears fell down onto the display on your phone and thats how you ended up in this situation. asking jungkook what the two of you were ... and reveiving his answer. your heart kept aching badly as you tried to sleep. on the next morning there was no more messages so you got ready for class. jisoo was really worried about you because of the dark circles underneath your eyes. the whole time she held your hand underneath the desk, carressing the top of it with her thumb. from time to time you had told her about your issues with jungkook, sadly she didnt had an solution for you.

after the lecture you finally had time to look on your phone, to your suprise you had 2 messages from jungkook. a bit hesistant you openend the messenger, widening your eyes because of the words you just read.

"im on the campus. please come outside. i need to tell you something." "the last thing i will tell you, if you want to. promise."

you it was probably a mistake but yout fingers typed straight away.

"okay"

jisoo was confused that you rushed down the stairs and nearly tripped over your own feed. on the way outside you threw your bag into the arms from another friend, telling her you would be right back. arriving outside there was no sign of jungkook, was it already too late? a glance on the chatroom showed you that he read your message, so he is still here, hopefully. as you reached the corner, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the shadows. first you panicked, thinking it was some kind of weirdo. but as your eyes adjusted to the sudden change of light you could see jungkook sitting on the ground. with one hand he gestured to sit down with him, which you did immediately. first it was quiet between the two of you, only your fingertips touched slightly.

"im not drunk now" confused you turned your head into his direction "uh, yeah i can see that" "good"

once again he turned over to you, now you could also see that he got a new piercing on his lower lip. your fingers were itching to play with it, to touch it ... but first you wanted to hear him out. jungkook grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it gently.

"It ... It happened in the blink of an eye. Maybe i should had left quickly back then when i noticed it ... I got caught in you ... and fell for you, deeply."

instantly your hand started to shake and maybe it was also sweating a bit. that was something you waited your whole life. that jungkook finally noticed his own feelings for you. this wasnt the most romantic place but thats what you get when you fell in love with a famous singer and influencer. slowly you bit down on your lip as you looked back up at him.

"took you long enough"

your voice was only a whisper as jungkook leaned closer, placing his soft and warm lips against yours. a shudder ran down your spine as your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. jungkook interwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand gently in his own. while you kissed him oh so gently you already pictured your future with him. knowing more than well that it wont get boring with jeon jungkook.

#bts #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fake scenarios #bts fanfiction #jungkook #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts hard hours #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop fanfiction #bts edits #bts x reader #bts jungkook

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thefrontofmymind · 11 months

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Proof Positive 3

a/n: wtf??? i'm updating something 2 days in a row?? this is so unlike me

series masterlist

The morning after, you got out of bed around the time you always did and you got ready for work. With a gentle whisper to a half-awake Ross that you were leaving, you were out the door.

You tried not to think about it, you hid it in a cupboard in your mind but that didn’t mean it was banging on the locked door. It must’ve been expectant mothers day on the tube because you counted no less than five pregnant women sitting in your carriage. Well, six, actually.

You kept laser focus on your work all day, even through the nausea and exhaustion. It wasn’t until you looked at your schedule did you realise that the tour that you’d been painstakingly organising every little detail of would begin in a mere two weeks. Ross would be leaving in two weeks. Twelve days to be exact. It gave you a jolt; you needed to act, and quickly. You booked an appointment with your GP for the day after tomorrow. You googled what to do, what to say to her, what she’ll say to you. You wanted as much control as you could get.

She would probably ask for either a blood test or a urine sample and she would test you herself. And then she would explain all the options you had. You knew it was early days, it was still an embryo, it didn’t even have a heart, it’d barely grown a brain. It had no thoughts and no pain receptors, it made you feel a little better. It wasn’t a baby yet.

You got a text from Ross at around 4 PM, ‘had to go back to mine to get some clothes, youre free to come over?’. You typed out a quick reply, ‘sounds good. see you soon xx’.

You placed your phone onto your desk and finished writing an email to some venue manager who had questions about the band’s rider. Another ping erupted from your phone, you took a quick glance at the new message from Ross; ‘how are you feeling?’, you didn’t know how you felt, so you didn’t answer.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you entered Ross’ flat, using the key he gave you a year ago when he moved in, you heard…talking. More than one person. In the living room was Ross, along with Adam and Carly. Like a switch that flipped, you were bright and happy–you couldn’t let them know what was happening.

A chorus of surprised greetings, questions on why you’ve shown up at Ross’ flat.

“She just can’t resist my cooking…” Ross joked. You didn’t fail to notice the inflection he had, you just prayed that Carly and Adam missed it.

There was some chatter between the boys–something technical with a song they were in the process of recording–and between you and Carly. You were telling her all about the tour, you could pretty much whip up any detail for the next ten months from the top of your head. And she had many questions about where her fiance was going, and when. You got to thinking…There was very well the possibility that things regarding the tour would have to change. In about eight months or so yours and Ross’ lives could change drastically.

Ross slowly made his way to the kitchen, prepping ingredients for a stir fry. The couple got the hint, making a polite exit and telling you both to enjoy yourselves–whatever that meant.

You silently watched Ross cooking, sipping on the glass of squash you made yourself. He kept stealing glances at you, you pretended to be oblivious.

It felt like your bubble burst. The bliss you felt, this honeymoon stage, it was all over. Everything had been so natural before–the kisses, the casual touches, the pillowtalk–but now it was all just so forced.

You picked at the food on your plate, you didn’t want to tell him the smell of it made you nauseous. You told him about your day at work, how the final plans for the tour were going.

“So we’re just not talking about it?” He asked after yet another story from you about a rude venue manager or a misunderstanding with your travel agent over the band and crew’s visas.

“I made a doctor’s appointment for Friday…she’ll tell me if it’s…real,” you answered.

“You wanna go alone?”

“You wanna come with me?” It was a genuine question.

“I told you I’m here for you,” he said. “However you want me, I’ll be there.”

You were looking right into his eyes, and he was looking in yours. At the unwavering eye contact you were comforted, you knew there was a shred of falsehood in his words.

“It’s at three in the afternoon…” You told him. “You could meet me there?”

“I’ll pick you up from the office.”

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The waiting room smelled like bleach. Like the linoleum floors had been scrubbed recently. The loudest sound was emitting from the small TV anchored to the wall in front of you and Ross–some daytime soap opera with characters you couldn’t understand the relations of, no matter how hard you tried.

Sitting across from you was a young guy, probably around 25 or so, cradling a little girl who was drifting in and out of sleep. She was tiny, a toddler still with the chunky limbs of a baby, and a mess atop her head of golden ringlets that probably hadn’t been brushed that day.

As the doctor called your name, you immediately jumped up. You didn’t see the large form next to you rise with you.

“Do you want me…” Ross trailed off from his seat, gesturing towards the corridor you were about to walk down.

“Please.”

Once you and Ross sat down in her office and got comfortable, she began to speak in a light and friendly tone. “So what brings you in?”

“Well…” you started. “I…my period was late so I took one of those early detection tests and it was positive.”

“A pregnancy test?”

You nodded.

“Okay.” She began to type out some notes on her computer. “Is your cycle regular?”

“To a tee, I’ve never been even a day late before.”

“So how many days?”

“Four.”

“And how long has it been since your last period?”

You thought for a second. “About a month?”

“Right.” She finished typing and turned back towards you. “I’ll get you to do a test here if that’s alright. I’m guessing this is the…father?”

“Yes, right, this is Ross,” you said. They exchanged a polite greeting.

The doctor handed you a small plastic jar. “Bathroom is just down to the left, you can’t miss it.”

About 10 minutes later the results were ready. Instinctively you grabbed Ross’ hand as your doctor looked at the much more clinical looking test.

“Two lines…which means it’s positive,” she said. Your brain began to tick into overtime, it was like time slowed almost to a stop.

In that moment, knowing it was real, you felt a sense of comfort. You didn’t know how, but somehow you got the sense that you could do it, and it would all be alright, you could make it work. A warmth spread through your abdomen–though that was just your mind. You became aware of the hand you were holding in a vice-like grip. Ross was with you, you wouldn’t be alone, you could very well have a family with the man next to you. You could be there for each other through all this, you were a team.

“Oh my god…” was all you could say, a soft smile spreading across your face. You looked at Ross, mirroring your smile.

“I should talk to you about options,” your doctor said after a minute of letting you bask in the happiness.

“I want to keep it,” you said instantly.

You smiled at Ross again, he raised his eyebrows–silently asking “really?”–you nodded.

“Well then,” she laughed. “I’ll give you the name of a good OB, he’s the one who delivered my two girls…” She was messily writing on a notepad. “And this is a good brand of prenatal vitamins.” She opened a drawer of her desk and retrieved a pamphlet. “And here’s just some guidelines for the early stages, what not to eat, symptoms you might have, all that.”

“Thanks,” you said after she handed you the bundle of information.

“I’d suggest booking within the next week, you might just be far enough along for a proper ultrasound.”

You didn’t say another word until you were out of the building and walking to the closest tube station, to the line that would take you right to Ross’. “A baby…”

“I know,” he chuckled.

“Are you okay with this all? Sorry…I didn’t know what my answer would be in there…”

“Listen to me.” He stopped walking, taking your hand in both of his and fiddling with your fingers. “There is no one else I would rather do this with.”

“Out of everyone in the entire world?” You laughed.

“No one else.”

“Not even Waugh?”

“Don’t tell him that I pick you…” He said in a hushed tone, to which you couldn’t help burst out laughing.

You couldn’t describe the joy you were feeling. The bubble of bliss was back for you both.

That night you slept easy, in the arms of the father of your baby, the three of you together–at least for now.

#ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald fic

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that-ari-blogger · 2 months

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A Throne Of Ash And Dust (Echoes Of The Past)

How do you characterise a joke character?

Perhaps they have specific idiosyncrasies that drive them to making silly decisions. Maybe they have repeated blindspots that cause them to take the complicated rout when the simple would have been safer.

My favourite way is this: The character repeatedly cold guesses plot beats of the story, and nobody, not even the character, realises the significance of this. TV Tropes calls this the "Joke and Recieve", and it is almost entirely built on dramatic irony.

But dramatic irony isn't always funny. It's a tool that can be used to create some truly agonising stories, including Echoes Of The Past.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (The Owl House, One Piece: Enies Lobby, Romeo And Juliet, Four Weddings and a Funeral)

Throughout season one of The Owl House, King was written as the comedic side character. This is partly why I rarely mentioned him in these posts, his antics were usually thematically relevant, but not the main event of an episode, and there is little I can analyse from well made jokes.

But comedy is difficult to write, and even more difficult to act. So, when comedians get to act dramatically, they usually make that part of the job look easy. Essentially, Alex Hirsch is really good at his job, and to prove that, I'm going to dive straight in and talk about the revelation scene.

"You're all just making fun of me, like usual, right?"

This line read is phenomenal. You don't have to understand the words he is saying to understand the inner turmoil that this character is experiencing, and the hyperventilating is a genius touch.

The framing of King in this shot is fascinating. Luz is knelt down like she is reaching for a scared child, or a wild animal. Fitting for addressing a character who's entire sense of self has just been eviscerated. King meanwhile is small and frail, with his arms and tail squeezed in to make his silhouette tiny within the frame.

Meanwhile, a Dutch Angle of the shot (the horizon line is slanted) gives an unsteady vibe the scene, while simultaneously cramping Luz in to make her look bigger by comparison and doing the reverse with King to continue his isolation.

Between them, in the foreground, there is the broken piece of his horn, pulling double duty for two different themes. First, it separates King from Luz. Second, it highlights the injury that King's psyche has just suffered.

Finally, King is clinging to his self image. He is desperate to believe that he is both a king and a little guy. He is the underdog who people make fun of, but who is right in the end. But he can't believe that anymore.

The foundation of King's character and comedy was that he was either right and everyone else's misunderstanding produced the dramatic irony that makes it funny, or he was delusional, and the irony was instead derived from that.

In this season, we get two revelations about this dichotomy, and the first is the gut punch. King abruptly realises that he has been wrong all this time, and that hurts him, and by proxy, it hurts the audience.

How do you characterize a tragic character?

My favourite way is this: The character repeatedly cold guesses plot beats of the story, and nobody, not even the character, realises the significance of this.

If you don't understand my point here, please go and read the introduction of this post again.

The line between comedy and tragedy is razor thin. If a character is funny, their idiosyncrasies are called comedic traits, or blindspots, or jokes. If a character isn't funny, those same traits become tragic flaws, hamartia, and foreshadowing for their doom.

Both types of story work in similar ways, they feature a long build up, and then a turning point in which every plot thread comes crashing down in either a display of humour, or an agonising train wreck. Often it is difficult to know what you are watching until that peripetia (the punchline) hits.

Case and point, Romeo and Juliet is a romantic comedy until Act Three. Romeo is an idiot who makes ridiculously stupid decisions in the first moments of the play, something that is called out in story. He is a starstruck lover who can't bring himself to look at the world around him, leading to him meeting Juliet and marrying her in quick succession, which causes antics. He's the type of character who Hugh Grant was born to play.

But then that same impulsivity causes him to get Mercutio killed, and kill Tybalt, Paris, and then himself. All of the tragic events of the story could have been avoided if Romeo had thought with his head and not his... I'm not going to finish that sentence.

This isn't a bug in the story at all, its the entire point. The idea of a tragedy is that the flaws cause the story. Those folks who complain into the ether about why characters making illogical discissions is a plot hole are, in my most humble of opinions, wrong about how stories work.

I don't believe in genre.

Well, that's not entirely true. A more nuanced explanation would be that I don't believe writing for a specific genre is worth it. Genre is a means of categorisation, for agents and libraries to arbitrarily seperate stories to allow for ease of access.

A genre exists so that a reader who likes specific stories can better explain what they are looking for. Instead of saying "I like books with the falling in love stuff and the will they won't they drama", a person can say "I like romance books" and leave it at that. Ease of access at the behest of accuracy.

But at what point does a romcom become just a regular romance story? How many explosions are needed to make something into a thriller?

My point is that trying to write within a specific genre isn't worth the struggle, and some of the best stories out there bend genre conventions entirely.

I mentioned Hugh Grant, though, and that's not just for the obvious reason. Four Weddings and a Funeral, a film that Grant starred in in 1994, makes my point for me.

Four Weddings and a Funeral is a comedy (kinda) about a collective of friends going to a series of weddings and seeing people they really don't want to see. They talk about how none of them have found their own love in the end, and comedy is derived from the obliviousness of Charles (Hugh Grant's character), and the over extroverted nature of Gareth (Played by Simon Callow).

Unfortunately, when Gareth's antics cause him overextend himself and he suffers a heart attack, that obliviousness turns tragic as Charles finally realises the true nature of the relationship Gareth had with Mathew (Played by John Hannah).

"Yes, it's odd, isn't it? All these years we've been single and proud of it and never noticed that two of us were, in effect, married all this time."

But then the film pivots back into being funny with the final wedding, which goes about as chaotically as the rest of the film. It's a story about enjoying the moment you are in and taking what life gives you with the understanding that it won't last forever. One of the film's theses is that something being short lived makes it more precious, and having elements of both tragedy and comedy in there really heightens that message.

As a side note, if you haven't seen this film, please do. There is a reason that Stop All The Clocks is so iconic, and it is this film. Please watch it, it's good.

King's arc had me worried when I first heard about it. I was late to The Owl House, starting watching when season two was already out. And so, the friends that I had who had already seen the series spoke really highly of "what the show does with King".

The problem came from my preconceptions. In my experience, when a piece of media tries to do something with a comedic character to give them more plot significance, that character gets murked about halfway through the process. I have seen this happen enough times for it to get stale.

But, you will notice, they don't do this with King. Instead, they give him context, and they reframe his character. All they do is make him matter.

That there is the key to how to make a comedic character heartfelt. All you have to do is take them seriously, and you can keep the comedy while fully embracing the emotional depth of the story.

In One Piece, Usopp is easily one of the most human of the main characters. He isn't a great swordsman or a devil fruit wielder, he's human, and he knows it.

Usopp is also the single most insecure character in the entire cast, and that is what I want to link to King, because the way in which Usopp is given depth is really interesting. At all times, he is taken fully seriously.

Usopp's comedy comes from a place of fear. He is a liar who specialises in the Joke and Recieve style of storytelling to the point where it has become a running meme in the One Piece fanbase. But that was rarely explored until Enies' Lobby, when the straw hat's ship was wrecked and going to be left behind.

Suddenly, all of those jokes, all of those incongruities, find a reason. Usopp is afraid of everything but is most afraid of being left behind, something that I am willing to bet money will come up again when the Straw Hats finally meet back up with the Red Hair Pirates.

Context.

King gets this too, his comedy comes from a place of ambition, and a genuine belief in his own past. This episode rips that out from underneath him, and so he needs to redefine himself in relation to the world around him, and so his comedy needs to rebuild itself too.

From the moment the characters set foot on the island, this episode takes itself entirely seriously. There is no laughing at characters, no wasted space at all. This episode knows what it is doing.

This episodes' use of light is phenomenal as well. Light illuminates, and combined with the motif of an obscuring fog, the thematic of revealed secrets could not be more obvious. They also, however, create a style that reminds me of the luminism of baroque paintings, which leans into the historical nature of this episode.

You will notice in later episodes that King makes fewer jokes than usual, and that difference is part of the emotional core of this season.

Now that I think about it, this season of The Owl House has a lot of characters trying to redefine themselves. Eda with her lack of powers, Lilith with her new allegiances, The Golden Guard with his storyline, and King.

We will see how that goes.

Final Thoughts

I am finally getting back into the swing of things with these posts. I took a break to go to a family wedding overseas, and then got back and had a few mental health complications. But I'm all better now, and ready to go.

King's story is a key part of season two of The Owl House, and this episode is pretty much the reason for him being a fan favourite character. Up until now he was funny, but with a hint of quirkiness. But from now on, this is a fully dramatic role, and Alex Hirsch nails it completely.

Also, I have to get this out of my system because I am way too proud of this joke. The title of this post is a reference to a generic book title (a _ of _ and _), as well as a song by Imagine Dragons, because King is the King of Demons. Admittedly, its a reference to Radioactive, but it still counts, right?

Next week, I will be taking a look at Keeping Up Afearances, an episode that I have mixed feelings about. So, stick around if that interests you.

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#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...?#the owl house #toh #the owl house king #toh king #one piece #one piece usopp #four weddings and a funeral

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renneiscent · 2 years

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Warts and All.

Note: I wrote this for Miya twins' birthday few days ago. Originally posted here, please spare my life since English is not my first language.

Summary: Just a dispute between two souls. They are not half of each other, they are whole of themselves; trying to choose their own path.

Words: almost 3k, I have no clue.

Just like all other siblings, twins also fight sometimes… or quite often? It depends with the bonding between them pretty much. So, we cannot generalise every twin in this world will experience the same thing, will experience the same fight, will experience the same misunderstanding. The thing also happens to Miya family which having two beautiful yet mischievous children, Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu.

People are crumbled from a far, observing the twin and discussing it in the school’s gymnasium as if it’s a focus group discussion; wondering with what kind of reason that made these two people from the same womb didn’t interact or even realise with each other’s existence.

“What happened to the twin?”

“Osamu decided to stop volleyball after high school, I think it pisses Atsumu really bad.”

“What? Isn’t that happened like few days ago? They are still not talking at all?”

Atsumu, the guy with blonde hair is sitting in the corner while polishing his nails like the good setter he is. Meanwhile his twin brother, Osamu, the guy with grey hair is sitting across the room while talking with other guys. Not any of them looks like willingly to shrug the fight off and break this high yet invisible wall between them.

Despite the fact that they are having the cold war between them, it seems like it didn’t affect their competence in the court; either it’s a true match or practice match, they two seem like professional when it came to the volleyball.

“Okay, I think it’s enough for today. All of you can go home after cleaning the gym. The meeting is dismissed.” The coach walked out from the gymnasium after giving the briefing.

“Thank you, coach!” Everyone in the gymnasium chimed in with all the energy left, they are proceeding to clean the school’s gymnasium before walking home.

Each student carries out their duties; someone tidying up the net, collecting volleyballs and wiping the floor. All of them are working together to take care of their gymnasium. Even though the cleaning task after practice is tiring, but the laughter and smile they have made didn’t think so. Everyone is having fun even if it was just cleaning the school’s gym, except for him. The blonde Miya.

“Whaddaya think there, Atsumu? Isn’t yer face going to be full of wrinkles until this end of the year?” someone’s voice took him back to the reality.

“Aran-kun,” Atsumu turn his head to the voice. “You don’t have to help me, I already wiped that spot.” His voice clearly shows that he isn’t that enthusiastic with Aran’s appearance like usual.

“I know, but I have no chance to talk with you.” Aran leaned to the wall, letting Atsumu is looking at him with confusion on his face.

“I didn’t have jokes this time,” Atsumu took a pause. “I did behave recently tho.”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem.” His response resulted in Atsumu raising an eyebrow, surprised. This is not so usual? What is this? Why Aran is asking for the Miya’s shenanigans act? Is he finally losing his mind?

“Are you okay, Aran-kun?” The blonde Miya is clearly concerned.

Aran laughed then leaned on closer with him, his head is directing toward someone across the room; someone who didn’t bother about these two people are looking at him right now. “I’m fine, are you?”

Atsumu didn’t need to ask twice for the further explanation, because he already knew what Aran exactly asked. The conflict between him and Osamu.

“It feels like a betrayal,” Atsumu whispered. “It feels like half of me is evaporating into thin air.”

“You are so dramatic, it’s not like he is going to war.” Aran rolled eyes.

“It’s still the same! I always play with him, I keep playing with him…” Atsumu trailed off, his voice making Aran’s worried until he took a glace toward the blonde; checking if he’s really evaporating into the air. “I just don’t want to lose my sight from my twin.”

Aran sighed; luckily the gymnasium is not so crowded right now. Some of them already went home, especially the person that they are talking about; Miya Osamu. Since their fight, two of them rarely walk together either to school or even back home.

“What did he exactly say to you?” Aran asked.

“He said that he want to do business related with meal.” Atsumu pouted his lips, feeling annoyed to remember that moment when Osamu told him that. It sounds like sin confession to him, it still is. For Atsumu, Osamu’s confession has the same taste like how he is failed to set the ball for his spiker or even worst, how there is no one willingly to hit his set. Even though it sounds exaggerated, but that is how Atsumu feeling.

“And is that it?” Aran asked again, but there is long pause after his question this time. He almost opened his mouth, intending to ask back. But then Atsumu finally answer.

“He said that why does he have to keep playing volleyball to be called as successful person,” he murmured. His eyes are narrowed to the floor as if there will be a laser coming out from his gaze.

“Do you think that he won’t be success if he stopped playing volleyball?”

“No.”

“The truth?”

Atsumu hesitated, but then answered. “Yes.”

“Let’s say if he never intends to stop playing volleyball,” Aran stretched his arms. “Let’s say Osamu is being successful person because he is playing volleyball and becoming the famous athlete like you in the future, do you think he will be happy?”

Atsumu immediately open his mouth to answer, but nothing came out from his lips. Nothing. The moment Aran asked him that question, it’s the moment he finally hesitated if he truly know the person who was born from the same womb like him. Will Osamu be happier if he continues to play volleyball alongside with him? He doubts that. Atsumu knows it, but why the fact taste bitter like it will make his tongue bleeding just by telling it out loud? Why? Is he this selfish? Does Atsumu really want his twin brother to sacrifice his dream just for his sake?

The long pause finally got interrupted with Atsumu’s dry laugh. Aran is glancing at him with frown on his face, wondering if the insanity on this blonde Miya finally took over.

“Yer damn right, Aran-kun.” He smirked, eyes are staring outside the gymnasium’s window as if he could look at his twin brother stare at him back over there. “Having another person who knows exactly your every thought can be a real gift and a real curse.”

“I’m home.” Osamu took off his shoes, his arrival was greeted by his mother from the kitchen.

“Welcome home, where is your brother?” the loving figure greeted him with sincere smile on her face.

“Dunno, probably still in school.” Osamu proceeded to his room.

“Are you two still not talking?” their mom sighed.

“We will be fine.”

Osamu put his school bag on his bed, he intended to take a bath but then his step is getting stopped by a sheet of calendar pinned against their bedroom’s wall. Tomorrow is 5 October already? Osamu sighed, they never fought this long before. It’s always over like minutes or hours but it’s been days. It’s not his fault, he can be so sure about that. Just because he finally chose his own path rather than following his older brother like he used to do, why Atsumu couldn’t relent and see from his perspective?

What makes him so pissed off and didn’t accept my choice?

It’s not like we are going to separate forever, Osamu said to himself. The grey Miya is puzzled with what kind of reason which makes this so simple problem yet become so complicated. But deep inside, he is able to assume one thing. It’s because they are not used to. They are always together with each other, they learn to share things, foods, clothes, you name it. Well, even mostly that Osamu is the one who keep sacrificing his stuff for Atsumu but he didn’t mind at all. He is pissed about it sometimes, but he is used to it already.

But this time is different, it’s his choice. His own life.

He couldn’t just shrug it off which he needs to let go his dream and forcefully take a path where he didn’t even belong there. Osamu also doubts that Atsumu will be happy to hear if he give up on his dream and pursue to still play volleyball. But then, what are they supposed to do? What is the solution?

Osamu leaned on the bathtub’s side, his grey eyes are staring at the ceiling above his head; thinking, thinking, what should he do? He hates the invisible wall between them which separating them like they are nemesis or something. They are from the same womb, they are sharing the same born day, but they are still different. What kind of way should he make to convince Atsumu with? Or rather, should he really give up with his dream and follow his brother once more just because he had enough with this quarrel?

“I’m home! Is Samu home already? Where is he?” Osamu could hear his annoying voice from outside the bathroom, it irked him but somehow the small gap there is fulfilled by relief. But he didn’t want to admit that.

“Welcome home, Osamu took bath right now.”

“Oh, I see.”

Why did he finally look for me? Osamu’s eyes are shut as he let the whole body of his is diving inside the bathtub, letting the warm water rinse all of his lethargy. Hold on, why Atsumu suddenly searched for him? His head rises to the surface, he frowns. It’s been days since they are not talking at all and since that both of them try to not look for each other. So, hearing Atsumu asked their mother where the hell he is right now is kind of strange.

“Nah, maybe he is just making small talk with mom.”

Finishing the bath with complete so cosy pyjama, Osamu threw his body to his bed. He had no clue but he feels extremely exhausted. Is it because of the practice today? Or his mental state finally reached its peak? He is lost about which one. Tonight he just wants to close both of his eyes and rest, for the first time ever… Miya Osamu didn’t think about dinner after practice nor does he feel hungry.

“Oi, ye scrub. Don’t sleep with hair is still wet!” is the last phrase Osamu could hear before he fell deeply to his dreamland.

Dreams are sequence of stories that our brains create while we are sleeping. The dream we are having while we are staying in the dreamland can be entertaining, fun, or even scary. It also can be vague one till when you woke up, the confusion wrapped around your head when you are awake. That what Osamu is experiencing right now, how the scene that happening in front of him—or technically inside his head—showing that Atsumu under his breath is apologising toward him for whatever he has done. He has no clue. Osamu is perplexed, questioning if he wishes for this a lot until his brain subconsciously absorbs it and project it into his dream.

But then the dream that so random yet amusing for Osamu is changing to be something so real; the hand of Atsumu is reaching Osamu’s shoulder and grasping tight, and then shaking him until it feels like there is an earthquake happening right now. The voice of him calling his name makes him uneasy. How could the scene where Atsumu apologised turn to be something so chaos like this?

“Samu, samu!”

“Hmph—” Osamu lazily responded. His eyes are half-lidded as he is trying to choose between seeing who the hell is bothering his sleep and going back to sleep again. “What do you want…”

“Wake up!” Atsumu keep shaking his shoulder merciless. “Hey, wake up scrub!”

Osamu groans, feels extremely annoyed right now. He immediately sits on his bed and rub his eyes, helping his eyes to clearly glare at the lad in front of him with annoyingly wide grin and sparks on his eyes. Atsumu’s expression irritates him really really bad right now. How could this blondy scrub smile like an idiot after screwing up his bedtime?

“Gimme reason to not hit you right now,” Osamu threatened.

“Because today is our birthday!” Atsumu gestured at the digital watch on their desk which is showing it’s already midnight. Today is 5 October already.

Osamu still frowns; he isn’t satisfied with his answer. No, mainly he is annoyed because after few days they are not talking at all then Atsumu just suddenly casually talking with him like nothing happened? There is an intense, almost a fire burning up in his gaze. As if you stare at him for too long, you would get burnt just by staring at it.

“What the heck, Tsumu? Are you going to forget whatever happened yesterday?” Osamu grasp the collar of Atsumu’s pyjama. His voice is low and raspy, but the frustration and anger coloured there; making everyone that hears it will goose bump because of his voice.

“Calm down yer scrub! You will make everyone awake!” Atsumu put his index finger to his lips, gesturing the other twin to be silence.

“My voice wasn’t even that loud,” Osamu grunted.

“I know, and that’s annoying. I feel terrified just by hearing it!” Atsumu complained.

Osamu sighed, releasing the grasp on his twin’s collar. The back is facing Atsumu as if he is trying to avoid eye contact. “What do you want?”

There is nothing but silence, Osamu is hoping for answer but he got a long pause rather than phrase which bring an explanation. He hates it. Thus he moves to face Atsumu, preparing to hit him once again. “I asked you, scrub—”

“Here,” Atsumu handed him a black box which kind of big. “Take it, you scrub!”

“What is it?” Osamu hesitated, but he didn’t let it show.

“I know what you are thinking! I didn’t prank you. How dare you hurt me with that stare of yours! Just open it!”

Osamu sighed, he take the box reluctantly but no doubt that his eyes flickers because of excitement. He open the lid then his brows are raised, stunned? Speechless? Confused? His eyes are moving from the content inside the box to meet with the brown gaze which smiling like an idiot in front of him.

“This…an apron?” Osamu mumbled, not sure about what he should say.

“An apron! I bought it yesterday because I don’t know what kind of gift I should give to someone who wants to do business related with meals. This is the only thing I have in mind.” Atsumu pouted his lips while confessing, his eyes are looking somewhere besides Osamu.

“An apron?” Osamu reiterated.

“Why, why?” Atsumu whined. “Here, I gave you certificate too! Suna helped me with it! But it’s my idea! You perhaps don’t get the certificate for your business yet, but you will in the future!” Atsumu took out the handmade certificate from the box and wave it in front of Osamu’s face.

Osamu was silent, still trying to process what had just happened. But then in between the silence, the corners of his lips lifted. He smiles.

“Say something, you creep…” Atsumu complained.

“Who the heck hit you? I dunno you could be this adorable.” Osamu joked, but his face brightens. He is happy.

“No one,” Atsumu murmured.

“Oh? You just realised with yourself just like that then? I see.” Osamu clarified but deep inside he knows there is someone that got on Atsumu’s nerve.

“Aran-kun,” he corrected. Atsumu move to his bed and let the blanket cover all of his body. “I still hate it when you chose to stop playing volleyball. But I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness, your dream, just for me. We are from the same wombs but you are you and I am me. We are not one individual. So, I have no right to obstruct your path.”

‘He is so dramatic but he is true though, it’s kind of rare to see this.’ Osamu said to himself.

“I’m not dramatic, why everyone keeps thinking like that!” Atsumu kick his blanket because of frustration.

“Hey, stop invading my mind. It’s privacy here!” Osamu glared at Atsumu from his bed, feel disgusted you could say. Having another person who knows exactly your every thought can be a real gift and a real curse, he thought. Then his eyes are moving to look at the apron and the handmade certificate that Atsumu gave to him. He still wants to touch it, he still wants to stare at it, he still wants to observe every spot his eyes could take. He is elated.

“Hey, Samu?”

“What’s up, Tsumu?”

Tonight’s sky looks so deep yet magnificent, the gradient of dark blue and black is mixing like God is trying something new to color. The night sky is decorated by the scattered stars which are shining bright like the heavenly finery. The moon is fully aglow as if the sign to tell everyone that the never-ending dispute is finally over.

“Wanna play some winning eleven?”

“Sure.”

Faith? It’s not like any of them have super faith or anything between each other. They just know that they will always find way to fix it somehow.

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#miya osamu #miya atsumu #miya twins #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu osamu #atsumu miya #osamu miya #happy birthday miya twins #im trying writing in 3rd pov

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sepia-mahogany · 3 years

Note

Prompt: hearing about xuanwus defeat, madam jin and jin zixuan come to lotus pier and overhear madam yu saying wei wuxian should have let the 'sect heirs die', lwj who's recovering also overhears, the 3 get first hand experience of jiang household situation and decide fk this and take wwx out of there, its a prompt from vrishchikawrites blog (a wonderful write!) So maybe ask permission?

From the prompt on @vrishchikawrites

Jin Zixuan could not forget the young man, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, who, despite his previous (petty) grievances with, had stepped up when everyone else had been frozen on the spot, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his blood stained image out of his mind. Which had led to this discussion.

“What? No! I forbid it.” his father responded when he asked for sending reinforcements to Jiang Sect, while he understood with Cloud Recesses burnt down, and Nie under attack, either Yunmeng Jiang or Lanling Jin were next on the table, and despite having well equipped men, with the best of weapons, his father refused to extend help.

Refused to stand against those who sought to harm his son, ‘in situations like these, know when to step back’ he had said, and Jin Zixuan could feel shame creeping up under his skin, outnumbered and clearly at losing stakes, he hadn’t hesitated to save him, and what would that make him if he forgot the debt so clearly owed? To live the lavish life of a coward..! He could see his mother fuming from where she stood, and closed his eyes to suppress his bitter thoughts, he wanted to do something, anything to help.

And suddenly, anger melted from her face and that smile crept up her face and he felt a chill down his spine, a sense of foreboding overcame him, he could see his father tense as well. “Of course, the Jin Sect sides with them.” she spoke, venom dripping off her every word. “Nothing wrong if the Sect Leader’s wife wants the marriage renewed?” a pit formed in his stomach, he did not want to marry a woman he barely knew, but using this opportunity, they could, in a sense create a bond, stronger than of just two sworn sisters.

However, “Madam Jin meets up with her sworn sister, Madam of Jiang Sect, just as Qishan Wen begins its attacks?” the war has been declared, how would it seem if the two sect Madams, and the Sect heirs are meeting, with or without the Sect Leader? “The risks are completely unneeded, what do we gain from this?” his mother glared at his father, who pointedly ignored her, Jin Zixuan exhaled, thinking things over.

As much as he disliked the engagement, he knew she would not bring it up, unless the situation, as dire as it was, needed it, this bond could provide future aid to one another should the need arise, so Jin Zixuan kept his disagreements to himself, because he knew she wouldn’t force him, not with the concerns of a cold loveless marriage like his parents, he knew she was using it as a cover to aid her sworn sister.

An opportunity, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then remembered how the Second Jade, Lan Wangji had stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and Wei Wuxian, Head Disciple, had stepped up to save them.

Jin Zixuan exhaled, and made a decision, muttering out a half-hearted excuse, he left them on their own, and later into the night, he approached his mother.

--------

The boat landed steadily, unnoticed in the middle of the night, his mother had won the final say in the matter, of course with the reluctant agreement of remaining disguised as just another trade ship, the serene view would have been calming, had his nerves not have been high strung from adrenaline, small sacrifices, he could of course find a way to break off the engagement in a future of more peaceful times.

Jin Zixuan climbed out the boat first, followed calmly by his mother, the disguises were near perfect, for the disciples around the brightly lit place to look curious, but not alarmed. One, he recognised seeing a few times at Cloud Recesses, came near them with a nervous smile. “We offer you our sincerest apologies but...we’d appreciate it if travellers could avoid an audience with the Sect Leader?”

The disguises were perfect then, for they had been mistaken as travellers that would go to and fro from Yunmeng Jiang Sect, his mother sniffed and looked at the disciple sternly “We are not here for the Sect Leader, but the Violet Spider, we have an important message for them.” Jin Zixuan had noticed before but now it had become more apparent as the disciples shifted around, something was off, it dampened his enthusiasm and the rush he had felt earlier, instead concern filled him, had something happened to Wei Wuxian?

His mother held out a token, the disciple’s eyes widened and he bowed in respect, “I assume this would be enough?” Madam Jin said curtly, and the disciple nodded, though tensely. “This one will escort you to the guest chambers”

The curious gazes had not been moved, as they moved inside, step by step, down the corridor they went, as the muffled voices became more distinguishable, all 3 of them froze when they heard, unmistakably the Jiang Sect Heir’s voice. “-You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you hadn’t….”

Jin Zixuan felt a cold pit forming in his stomach, surely he must be mistaken, but seeing the expression twisting on his mothers face, he could assume he was not, in fact, misunderstanding what Jiang Wanyin was implying.

The disciple bowed quickly, slightly panicked “If you’d follow me-” Madam Jin pointed at him and he immediately shut up, head bowed, just as the Jiang Sect Leader reprimanded “Jiang Cheng.” Silence followed. “Do you know in which ways what you just have said is not appropriate?” was followed by a glum “Yes.”

Even if slightly, Jin Zixuan relaxed, his mother’s expression lightening into a frown, ‘at least someone is self-aware’ Madam Jin thought. “He’s just angry and speaking without care” another voice added, Jin Zixuan perked up, Wei Wuxian! So he was alright, he felt relieved. Madam Jin continued to frown, Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to lessen the pressure off of the Jiang heir.

Another harsh voice cut through them all “Yes, he doesn’t understand but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands!?” rang out her voice, Madam Jin’s lips pursed into a line, of what her son had just said, that was what she was focusing on?

“‘To attempt at the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew it’d bring trouble to his sect!?” Jin Zixuan sneaked a look at his mother to see her eyes cold, her fist clenched tightly, he was aware they shouldn’t be hearing this, but this? It wasn’t what they expected at all, he was frozen in place, what in the world was he hearing?

Madam Jin’s thoughts matched her appearance, for once she felt less than charitable towards Yu Ziyuan, and more and more like a fool, here she was, risking her and her son’s safety, her sects safety, for a woman who couldn't care less about her son’s life, but was also wilfully blinding herself to the war right on the horizon, ‘No’ she thought to herself, ‘it was I who was truly blind’

And it was the boy she heard being called ‘Fengmian’s bastard’ or ‘son of a servant’ who had saved her son's life instead, she bit back the bitter chuckle that threatened to escape her, truly, what a fool she was, to be caught in the violet spiders web.

She looked at her son, whose face clouded over the more he heard, she grabbed his arm tightly, if nothing else then to prevent him from barging inside, with Jiang Fengmian’s favor, she was sure that they didn’t need to interfere, until, “My lady, what are you doing here?” she held back her disbelief, her son on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

This was what he was focusing on? Not the insults to his bas- to his ward? To his sect’s entire foundation? It would seem she was truly mistaken, in her and Yu Ziyuan sharing their miseries, entirely wrong about her character, and who was still throwing around callous words for the sake of it, for what else? If not her own cruelty?

"What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I'm also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing there, which one is your son?" Disbelief and disgust couldn’t even begin to describe what Madam Jin was feeling, the Sect Leader’s response, however, “I do remember.” Enhanced those to the heights she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.

And so stood the enraged Madam of Jin Sect, the horrified Jin heir and one ashamed disciple whose head could bow no lower, but that was nothing compared to what was said next “You do remember, but there's no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can't take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would've made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and Lanling Jin Sect? Even if he did, it'd mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?"

Blood roared in Madam Jin’s ears, her nails digging into her palm, she wanted to bite Yu Ziyuan’s head off there and then. ‘Of all the idiotic, foolish, horrid, things she could utter-’ in her cursing, she only realised she had put too much force in her rage filled haze when her son hissed in pain, she immediately let go of his arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking calming breaths.

She was afraid she would do something terrible and irrevocable if she stayed there any longer, listening to a pathetic mockery of- she exhaled and pushed Jin Zixuan towards the open doors. “B-but mother-” he looked back but she gave him that look and he quietened “Later a-Xuan.” while moving outwards, the disciple trailing behind them, they could easily catch some of the words the woman threw at Wei Wuxian.

Madam Jin gritted her teeth in anger, and left without looking back, once she and her son were seated in the boat. “A-Xuan” she began, lightly ruffling his hair “Your marriage is up to you to decide, I will have no say in the matter from here onwards” Her son was not going to be married into that cursed Sect no matter what if she could help it, she moved forward to pull him into a hug, “Mother was wrong.”

“But mother what about..?” She heard him say, she pulled back and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other caressing his cheek, her son, who by the Jiang’s standards, should’ve been killed, and her blood boiled in her veins. “We came here to make a bond and talk if it were possible, since that wasn’t possible, it can be done some other day.” She lightly patted him, and seeing his thoughts drift off, thought to herself darkly ‘and if the Jiangs are attacked, well, they ran out of luck then.’

Her son hesitantly nodded, “Wei Wuxian...I owe him, for saving me then, if not for him.....” She sniffed, as if indicating what was obvious “Of course,” When the news spread later that Lotus Pier was attacked, with Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian on the run, she hoped for Wei Wuxian’s survival, more so than the Jiang Sect Heir.

And if, perhaps, after a few years her son proposed sworn brotherhood with that Wei Wuxian, well, it wasn’t without her approval.

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

authors notes i guess?

Okay so writing Madam Yu’s lines legit left me disgusted like wtf was she even saying?? Also like I tried to write Madam Jin similar but a bit less than Madam Yu (ya know madam jin never whipped kids with her spiritual weapons, if she had any, not to our knowledge at least...right?) but ended up venturing straight into slightly dark madam jin heh, also like no engagement, no jin-wei tense relationship, (there’ll be 1-2 parts more probably) also wwx woke up earlier in this one, this’ll serve as catalyst for later years.

#mdzs fic #jin zixuan #madam jin #jin guangshan #jiang wanyin #jiang fengmian #madam yu #unnamed disciple lol #prompt writing #anon asks #my writing

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v-hope · 3 years

Note

omg the love confession no.3 w tae would be adorable 🥺

forgot to add the scenario but just hella tension between the two and a misunderstanding? sees y/n with someone else but she does it to get a reaction?

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, slighttttt angst, f2l

word count: 1.5k

prompt: “I love you, okay? I love you!”

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i feel like i’m still lacking when it comes to writing but i loved writing this. also, y/n didn’t do it to get a reaction out of him in this one but it still did the job lol. i hope you enjoy, love!

To say Taehyung was fuming was an understatement.

Never in his entire life would he have thought he’d be jealous of one of his hyungs. Not only that, but he would have never imagined the cause of that growing green monster inside of him would be you.

He should’ve seen it coming, though. After all, he had brought it upon himself.

Drawing his eyes away from you and focusing them on the rest of the people on the dorms to try and forget about the way you were ever so happily laughing with Yoongi at their homecoming little gathering, he found himself staring back at you not even three seconds later — his eyes locking with yours this time, as you had just looked his way as well.

And then you smiled. Sweetly, lovingly… the same way you had done with your eyes closed when he had kissed you the night before leaving for tour.

The same smile that had been quickly erased when he had panicked right after and told you to forget about it so the two of you could go on with your lives being the best of friends you had always been.

It was on him. He had been the one to ruin his chance with you. And so now, he had no right to feel jealous over you enjoying your night with his hyung.

But he did. Fuck, he did.

It was his first night back in Seoul after four long months and, instead of being attached to the hip to him like you always were, like he had been aching for you to all that time, you were right in front of him with someone else.

“Why the long face?” your voice brought him back to reality, having been so immersed in his own feelings that he had missed the way you had excused yourself to Yoongi and walked over to him instead.

Taehyung didn’t answer, a shrug of shoulders being all you got from him instead.

“Are you mad at me or something?” you wondered.

He bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding your eyes. “Why would I be?” his eyes travelled from Yoongi on the other side of the room to you. “It’s not like you’ve been ignoring me all night to hang out with hyung”.

Your jaw fell slightly open. “You’re serious right now?”

There it was again, another shrug instead of a proper answer.

“I literally spent nearly an hour next to you although you were barely even speaking to me and only went to talk to Yoon a few minutes ago”.

“Yoon” he mocked snarkily.

“Seriously, what is your problem?”

“You,” he hastily blurted out. “You are my problem”.

“Excuse me?”

Taehyung laughed under his breath, shaking his head in a way that showed no remorse whatsoever. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about”.

“I really don’t?” your tone, although confused, became stronger.

“You and Yoongi hyung?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

“What about it?”

“Come on, Y/N” his eyes faintly squinted. “I see the way you’re laughing with him. And don’t think I don’t know about you guys talking on a daily basis while we were on tour”.

“So?” you crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s a good friend, I like talking to him”.

“Maybe a little too much” he bitterly pointed out.

You stayed silent, analyzing his factions and trying to figure out what the hell was going on and why on Earth was he making a scene over something so meaningless like you talking to one of his friends.

And the only conclusion you could come up with, you couldn’t believe. Yes, you two had kissed the night before he left. And yes, you had felt like your heart would explode right then. However, it was late at night, and you guys were sleepy… and the atmosphere was just right. He had let himself get lost in the moment —or so had he told you—, and he had made it very clear you guys were nothing but friends.

So, the way he was acting this very moment, seemed to have no ground whatsoever.

Unless…

“Is this about you fearing he’ll take your place as my best friend?” you asked what you thought the problem was. “Because if that’s the case, Taehy—”

“Fuck, Y/N” he threw his head back in frustration. “That’s not it at all!”

“Then?” you questioned.

This time, he was the one to stay silent — lips parting ever so slightly as he tried to find the courage to say what he was dying to, yet ended up saying nothing at all.

You shook your head in disappointment. “You know, I’ll just leave” your words caused his heart to skip a beat in utter panic. “Talk to me when you know the reason why you’re so upset over me talking to someone else”.

Watching you turn around and go get your jacket, saying a quick goodbye to all of the people present at the dorms before you headed to the door, he felt his chest hurt. And it was after you closed it right behind you when he finally snapped back, not letting another second go by before he ran to the front door as well.

“I know the reason” he blurted out before he could fully come out of the apartment.

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, hesitating for a few seconds before you turned around.

“What?”

“The reason” he repeated, closing the door behind him. “Why I am so upset over you being so close to Yoongi hyung, or to anyone else for that matter. I know it”.

That had seemed to catch your attention, taking one step towards him. “And what is it?”

Taehyung took in a shaky breath. He had kept his feelings to himself for too long now and had been stupid enough to deny them to you even after you had kissed him back. He needed to say it for once and for all.

“I love you”.

And so he did. In a whisper.

A whisper so low that it had not managed to reach your ears.

“What?” you asked once again, eyebrows furrowing as you took yet another step towards him.

Only it wasn’t necessary to be close to him in order to hear him anymore, for he earned up the courage to finally, confidently say: “I love you, okay? I love you!”

You gasped, feeling your heart beating so hard against your chest you might as well had just been running a marathon. “You’re joking”.

Taehyung sighed, biting his bottom lip as he made his way over to you — feeling his heart ache when you took a step back from him. “I have never been more serious in my life” he stated. “I love you, Y/N”.

“And what it took for you to realise it was me talking to someone else? Because let me tell you, Taehyung, that is—”

Your words were cut off by his soft lips gently pressing on yours, the same way they had done four months ago. The same way that had taken your breath away and forget about the world.

“What it took for me to realise was kissing you back then” he murmured, wet lips brushing faintly against yours.

You shook your head in disbelief, an almost inaudible scoff escaping your mouth. “That is bullshit. You said you had got caught up in the moment and that you didn’t want our friendship to change because of it”.

“I was stupid” he was quick to admit. “Kissing you felt so good, so… right. I panicked. You’re my best friend, I was going on tour the next day, I…”

He sighed, sheepishly shaking his head as he did not know what else to say, how else to explain he had just been an idiot to deny his obvious feelings for you back then.

You, on the other hand, bit the inside of your cheek as you silently stared at him, trying to understand his motives and, more importantly, trying to figure out whether he was being genuine or not.

When you decided he was, you smiled sweetly. “You’re an idiot”.

“I know” he mumbled with lowered head.

“And I should be so mad at you right now for making me feel so shitty when you said those things right after we kissed”.

“I know”.

“Because I love you, too”.

“I kn—”

His eyes snapped up to fix on yours, searching on them for any kind of a cruel joke being displayed on them. “What?”

“I won’t say it again” you warned him.

He bit his bottom lip. “So you and hyung…”

“I told you, we’re just friends” you rolled your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have other friends?”

“You are” he nodded, taking your hands in his and pulling you closer — just enough so he could press his forehead on yours. “Just not ones you love the way you love me”.

You shoved him away in annoyance, only to be pulled right back to him. “You are insufferable”.

“Yet you still love me” he laughed lightly.

Shaking your head as an amused smile curved up the corners of your lips, you didn’t have time to neither agree nor deny his cocky statement when his mouth was back on yours.

After all, all it took for him to know his feelings were reciprocated, were your lips moving against his and your hands wrapping around his neck.

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years

Text

Words Hurt

Summary: You overheard Draco insulting you to Notts and Blaise.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word count: 2,572

Sneaking into Draco’s dorm room had become a skill by now. Getting into the Slytherin common room was the easy part. Sneaking into his room without students noticing was slightly more difficult. The trick? Stealing one of Draco’s robes so you looked the part.

Having done this countless times, you expected to waltz into his room and find him on his bed or at his desk. What you didn’t expect to see-, well hear was loud laughter coming from his room. With his door ajar you peeked through to see him pacing the room, his back to you, Blaise and Nott sprawled across his bed. Draco hated having anyone but you in his room let alone his bed, what was going on?

“It’s such a pain, it’s like she’s always there. No matter where I go, she’s right there, she’s like a leech that won’t let go! God she’s so annoying, would it kill her to give me some space?!”

Taken aback, you hold a hand to your thundering heart as your fight or flight kicks in. You could storm in there, confront him there and then about it, but what if he broke up with you? It took months to get to where you are now, for him to open up completely, for you to break down his walls. Putting your ear to the door again, you listen, just in case, just in case it was a misunderstanding.

“Mate she doesn’t seem that bad, I mean she’s hot and bloody whipped for your sorry arse.” That comment from Zabini earned a high five and laugh from Notts.

“A leech Zabini, did you not hear? A leech. She always has to spend every waking hour with me. It’s a surprise she hasn’t barged in yet.” And with a sigh he slumps into his chair by the desk, hand massaging his temples.

You were known for being touchy, that’s just how you showed affection. But for your boyfriend talk about you like that? You needed time to think. You needed to do something for Draco to make him regret his words. It just required a little… careful planning. Draco was known for being a possessive bastard for a reason after all.

Walking into the Great hall the following morning (after having spent the previous evening ignoring Draco’s letters asking for you to meet him) you had a different air around you, a sense of purpose. You walked straight to the Y/H table, members of your own house gawking as you sat down next to your friends for the first time since you started dating Draco. You were still close with your house mates, you just preferred eating with Draco, and besides, Slytherins were fun in their own sense.

“Uh, did you get lost or something? WAIT did you two fight? Because if you did, I so called it. Mia you owe me 5 galleons, pay up!”

“Wait wait wait, you guys bet on my relationship with Draco?” This was a very Slytherin type of thing to do, to say this was unexpected was an understatement.

“Every house has bet on you two Y/N/N, we love you obviously, but there’s galleons to be made.” You had definitely chosen your best friends right.

“I hate you.” You stick out your tongue just to emphasise the point. “Now, has Draco noticed yet, has he looked over?” Not turning your head around to peak was the extremely difficult, everything in your body was telling you to turn around.

“Uh I don’t know what happened between you two but he does not look happy with you, if looks could kill…” Issy basically confirmed that your plan was working, you were hoping he’d be more confused or upset about you ignoring him, but anger would work too.

You finished your breakfast with Issy and Mia, the three of you leaving the Great hall together, all whilst successfully keeping the gaze, well glare of your boyfriend on you whilst you yourself didn’t spare him a single glance.

You weren’t even two steps out of the great hall when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you away from your friends. Yelping, you whip around to see a fuming blonde Slytherin leading you towards one of the court yards. You yanked your arm out of his grip as soon as you’d both stopped walking. “You know, you could’ve asked me nicely to follow you?”

“Why have you been avoiding me since last night? You didn’t respond to my letters and you ate at your own table. You haven’t even looked at me! Is everything okay? Has something happened?” You almost scoffed at the sincerity in his words. This was the same boy that had been saying how much he hated having you around all the time, surely the last 12 hours had been bliss for him.

You acted nonchalant, “Oh, I’ve just been busy. I am a student Draco. I have something called homework that needs to be done.”

Clearly, he was not very impressed by your response but neither of you really wanted to create a scene in front of the whole school. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.” Draco was just reaching for you hand when you pulled away, as if his touch burned you. The look of hurt that shot across his eyes almost broke your resolve, almost. “It’s okay! Mia and Issy are waiting for me, besides, your lesson is across the castle. I’ll see you later okay!” And with that you turned and ran towards you lesson, leaving Draco staring after you dumbfounded.

It wasn’t until dinner that evening that you saw Draco again, this time, he was the one to surprise you. His bright blonde hair and green robes certainly stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of Y/H/C robes. And if that wasn’t the dead giveaway, the hushed whispers and glances from literally every other student in his direction was.

“Uh, Draco, not that I don’t love seeing you, but why are you at my table? We usually sit at Slytherin’s. You know my house tolerates you but they’re not… overly fond of you.” The last part you made sure only he heard.

“You’ve avoided me all day and all of last night. Can’t I be worried about my own girlfriend?” And as that signature cocky smirk of his stretched across his face, you knew you had lost.

That was until Cedric Diggory sat down next to you.

You were old family friends, everyone knew that, and he was always the one thing you could count on Draco being jealous of 100% of the time, no matter how small the interaction. Which is why you proceeded to throw yourself onto him and scream “I’ve missed you so much!! We have to go to The Three Broomsticks this weekend, I want to know how my favourite seeker is doing.” And you threw in a no-so-subtle wink to really rub salt into the wound.

Which… lead to you being thrown over a certain blonde’s shoulder and carried out of the great hall. You had two choices, let Draco carry you out and talk this through like any other normal couple, or… scream bloody murder and run away. You were a second too late to execute your plan however, he’d already walked the both of you straight into the room of requirement. “Uh Draco, what were you thinking of when summoned the room? Why is there only a bed and a fireplace?”

He sat down on the bed, pulling you to stand between his legs; his face was flushed a deep pink, it was adorable. “I just wanted a place to talk, I swear. Besides, I never heard you complain sex before.” God you wanted to punch the stupid smirk off his face.

“Oh my god Draco!” You really weren’t winning anymore; you were putty in his hands again.

“So princess, wanna tell me why you’ve been distant all day?” He had a hand under your chin now, the other holding your waist to keep you from moving. God you had missed his hands on you.

“I told you, I’ve just been busy. Besides we’ve spent so much time together recently, I’m sure you enjoyed the break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, allowing yourself to lean down to drop a peck on his lips.

“Love what are you talking about?? When would I ever not want to spend time with you?”

By now you had your head resting on top of his, exhausted of having to keep up this façade around him. You missed his touch more than you had thought. This was pathetic, you couldn’t keep yourself together for even 24 hours. Was your resolve this weak?

“Tell me what’s wrong darling. Is it Potter? I swear to God- “

“No, it wasn’t Potter, sit your ass down Malfoy. Honestly you should just date him instead, you sure talk about him enough.” You weren’t sure whether to cry or laugh at this point.

“For the sake of our relationship I’m just going to pretend that you didn’t just suggest that I date Potter.” His hands reached up to cup your face, forcing you to make eye contact. “Now do you want to tell be why you can’t even look me in the eyes? Did I do something?”

You could cry at this point; how was this the same boy you saw compare you to a leech and insulted you to his friends? Was this just a game to him? Did he even love you or was this all just one big joke to him? You hadn’t realised how long you’d been lost in your own thoughts until Draco hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled you onto his lap, bringing your attention back his piercing grey eyes.

“I heard you. Last night. I came up to your room to see you, but you were in there with Blaise and Notts and I heard everything. I heard you talk shit about me to your them, do you hate being with me that much? Did you even love me at all? Or is this just one big game to you?” He had kept his eyes on you the entire time whilst yours had fallen to your lap, voice trembling. Your heart thundered in your chest as the heavy silence drew on, quickly becoming unbearable. You had hoped this entire time that it was just one big misunderstanding, that Draco would say you misheard. Yet the long-drawn silence was enough to make your heart drop to your stomach.

You set your arms on his shoulders, prepared to push yourself to stand up out of his hold, ready to sprint out the door to break down once in the comfort of your own dorm room. But just as you raised yourself from his lap, Draco’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you in place on his lap. His right hand then reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before bringing his mouth up to meet yours. You savoured the feeling, of his soft lips on yours, of the minty taste of him on your tongue; knowing it may be the last one you two would ever share. That thought alone was enough for the tears to start flowing, your kiss turning salty as your tears flowed heavier to the point where sobs broke out from your lips, breaking the kiss. You buried you head in your hands, trying to control the sobs wracking your body as Draco cradled you to him, guiding your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, sobbing heavily into the white cotton as he ran his hands over your back and squeezed you tight. It wasn’t until you had managed to calm your sobs into quiet hiccups that he spoke up, his voice quiet and calm compared to how your thundering heart and uneven breaths.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to hear that- no, I shouldn’t have said it in the first place. I didn’t mean anything I said, I swear to you, I love you so much and I would never do anything to hurt you. You’ve changed me for the better, you know you have. After getting this hideous mark on my arm, you have been the only thing that has kept me sane. The only thing that has tethered me to this world. I will never forgive myself for saying those words, even if it was just to keep up my image for Blaise and Notts. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He kept repeating the same three words. He whispered sweet nothings into your ears, begging for you forgiveness, trying to prove his love to you.

You had stopped crying altogether at this point, you simply relaxed into his hold, listening to his words and his heartbeat. From the second he opened his mouth you had already forgiven him; you’d never heard him sound so… raw before. Sure, you’d had emotional talks before, but you’d never heard him sound so scared, scared that he’d lose you.

You stood up from his lap and watched as his face fell, the colour draining from his face as he prepared for you to leave him then and there. Instead you reached for his hands, pulling him to stand in front of you. “Promise you’ll never put me through this again?”

“I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never question my love for you ever again. I-I never wanted to hurt you; I would never purposely do so.”

“I believe you.” And with that you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in for a breath-taking kiss.

He pulled back from you, breaking the kiss only to say, “What a couple me make huh?” This had you giggling into the kiss as he claimed your lips as quickly as he had let them go. Luckily you had the room of requirement to… spend time together in. (let’s just say the both of you were very thankful for the bed)

Things didn’t immediately go back to normal again after that, Draco was a very private individual, so it took some time for him to learn that he didn’t have to hold up a façade around people who truly cared about him, and for him to not insult those he looked for the sake of his image. But once he got past that, the two of you would become unbreakable, your trust in one another running deep.

Voldemort would come and try to corrupt Draco, but Draco would stay by your side, fighting for Hogwarts despite the allegiance to Voldemort permanently scarred onto his skin. He would come back for his 8th year and build friendships with people he never thought he would, even being able to speak to the Golden Trio without grimacing or insulting them.

And as you laid in your bed on a cold winter night some 15 years from here, your son in between the two of you having crawled into your bed after having a nightmare, you knew you were content to spend the rest of your life just like this. That you would go through everything again in a heartbeat to end up where you are now.

#A/N: I am so sorry for this ending, I didn't really like how it ended but changed it like 20 times and this was the one that didn't make me want to burn the entire thing so I hope you enjoyed it!

Add yourself to my taglist!

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco fic #Draco Malfoy fanfiction #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic #Draco x y/n #slytherin #draco one shot #draco malfoy one shot #Draco Malfoy imagine

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nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

Resolve [Part 2 of ‘Explode’]

Click here for part 1

warnings: none, it’s just a bit longer and the angst of part 1 continues so...

❀ Taeyong decides it’s time for Dream and JiHo to make an end to their fight

JiHo had spent the night over at WayV’s dorm. The chance of seeing Haechan after practise had ended wasn’t one she was willing to take. Johnny had sent Haechan over to the Dream dorm since he wanted the boys to reflect on what they had done and find a way to fix it. He was also slightly agitated and didn’t want to risk yelling at Haechan if he started whining.

A bit after JiHo had left the practise room, the dance instructor came back and had asked where the girl was and why everyone was looking so down. Doyoung had to explain the whole situation which brought the mood down even more. The rest of practise was a nightmare. It felt like it was never going to end. It also made some of the boys realise how JiHo not being there didn’t make much of a difference visually. Realising how JiHo literally wasn’t in any of the unit groups besides the OT24 group dance and some B-tracks which were never going to be performed live. But not having her there did still hurt, it just didn’t feel right.

Mark had checked up on Dream before heading back to his dorm. They all seemed to be coping with the aftermath differently. The unit’s leader wanted to help, but he also knew the boys were old enough to figure it out by themselves. This wasn’t just a small fight and he didn’t want to get too involved.

At WayV’s dorm things weren’t much better. JiHo had found her place in Ten’s bed, the older boy coming to check on her every so often. She didn’t really talk and at a glance she looked like she was going to be just fine, but the next morning she looked horrible. She didn’t get a wink of sleep and Ten knew, but whenever he tried talking to her she just shrugged him off.

They had breakfast together, Lucas and Yangyang trying to cheer her up with some jokes and when she finally smiled for a second the taller one didn’t hesitate to attack her with a hug. “JiHo please talk to us.” He whined burying his head in the crook of her neck. The girl just sighed and continued playing with the food Kun had prepared for her. “Lucas, let her be for a second.” The oldest said patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Please eat something okay? You haven’t touched any of your food yet.” He tried to coax her into eating and she just nodded before taking her first bite.

There were two options: One, have Dream and JiHo fix their problems on their own accord and suffering the possibility that the fight would not be resolved for months. Which would in turn take a toll on their practise and sabotage their comebacks, team work and a lot more for the whole group. Or two, do like they always have. Involve themselves in their problems to try and fix it as a whole group.

As all of NCT gathered in the practise room, Taeyong had made the choice by himself. Mark had noticed someone wasn’t there yet. “Where’s the choreographer?” He asked and everyone started to notice as well. “He’s coming in 2 hours.” Taeyong said walking to the middle of the room. “Why are we here then? I could’ve gotten at least another hour of sleep.” Lucas whined which earned him a slap to the arm from Kun. “Sit down kids, we have some work to do.”

Everyone had gathered around Taeyong in a circle, all clearly confused. He then looked at the Dream members who all looked like they either had been crying for hours last night or if they just rolled out of bed after a horrible night of sleep. He motioned for them to sit in the middle of the circle with a finger. They all hesitantly moved over to where Taeyong pointed. The leader’s gaze than settled on JiHo, who surprisingly looked a lot less dead. Taeyong however knew she wasn’t doing so hot because of the updates he received from WayV ever since she decided to sleep over at their dorm.

Without having to say anything she sat down facing the Dream members, her eyes holding no emotion. “Isn’t this a bit unfair? 6 against 1?” She chuckled sarcastically. Taeyong rolled his eyes. “I think what’s unfair is that the fight between the seven of you is bringing down the whole team. Don’t you agree?” JiHo wasn’t one to raise her voice but the leader’s words just didn’t sit right with her. “Excuse me? You act like I did something wrong. I’m the one who got accused for something I didn’t do! I’m the one who had 6 people screaming at me, acting like I’m the bad guy here! And I saw it in your guys’ eyes yesterday that you were starting to think it was true! I-” She stopped herself when she noticed what she was doing. JiHo had stood up and was yelling at their leader, everyone shocked at the sudden (but not surprising) outburst. “I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth before sitting down again.

Taeyong had to admit that it was wrong of him to act the way he did. JiHo clearly didn’t do anything wrong, but just because this was now a known fact and the misunderstanding had been cleared up, didn’t mean that the conflict was solved. There was still a lot of tension between the two parties and it wasn’t going to get better if they didn’t address it.

“JiHo we’re sorry-” Renjun started, but Haechan quickly interjected. “It’s all my fault. I just heard you talk to Johnny and heard Jisung’s name and then you started talking about a maknae and I just jumped to conclusions, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve asked, but I was too mad...” JiHo couldn’t make eye contact with any of the boys. Jisung spoke up. “I do trust you JiHo, it’s just that-” “How could you say that if you just believed Haechan anyway? You should’ve asked me first.” It was the first time JiHo’s voice had given in. She sounded so hurt and it made all the members feel horrible. “I know... I didn’t believe Haechan at first, but he also wouldn’t lie to me so I felt conflicted.” It was silent for a bit.

“I just felt like no one was on my side. At least you guys have each other...” The older boys couldn’t watch this anymore, it was such a stupid thing to fight about but the implications were so much more serious. The lack of trust, feeling lonely even while having so many people around. “JiHo, you know I knew the truth.” Johnny spoke up. She didn’t dare to look at him. “We didn’t know that you felt that way.” Jaemin added. “But you just got mad at me without telling me why. Starting to ignore me and look at me like you hated me, and no one said anything. And I know it was so obvious that there was something going on but no one tried bringing it up. You all just waited for someone to explode and for us to start fighting.” JiHo was now talking to the older members. “I- I don’t know, I just felt like I wasn’t part of NCT anymore-” With that Haechan, Jisung and Renjun started bawling their eyes out. The damage they did was even worse than they initially thought. “Don’t say that.” Renjun’s voice hitched. He inhaled deeply after each word as if he forgot how to breath.

The other boys had to do everything they could to hold themselves back from going to comfort the younger members, they still had to talk everything through. Some of them even started crying themselves, wondering how it had gotten so far that one of their members didn’t feel like part of the group anymore.

“It’s almost obvious SM doesn’t want me to be in the group anymore. But I couldn’t help but feel like you guys didn’t want me either after what happened yesterday.” The girl had yet to cry even though she sounded so close to breaking down. She had never cried in front of everyone before, always showing her strongest side.

A quivering call of her name left Jisung’s lips. He called out for his precious noona, asking what he could do to make her forgive him. The room stayed quiet for a while, everyone anticipating JiHo’s answer, but it never came. Haechan looked at her with hopeful eyes, moving closer cautiously before resting his hand on hers situated in her lap. Her breath hitched and her body jerked slightly at the sudden touch, causing everyone else to jump a little as well. “I’m sorry you couldn’t trust me-” She choked on her own mixture of words and tears. Haechan immediately pulled the girl into his chest, stroking the girl’s hair as he desperately rambled to her. “It’s not your fault”, “I’m sorry”, “I should’ve talked to you”, “Please don’t leave us”. The sentences became a jumbled mess between his painful cries.

It had become too much for everyone. They were either fighting back tears or openly crying, excusing themselves from the room. Taeyong looked down at the mess he had made, but when he saw all the Dream members surround JiHo and Haechan to apologise and tell her how she was in fact a member of NCT and nothing was going to change that, that’s when the leader realised it might not have been so bad after all. The girl had finally opened up and though just this moment alone wasn’t going to solve everything, at least they knew how she felt and it was a great starting point.

Jisung had taken JiHo’s hands in his holding them tightly as he apologised through tears. She gulped at seeing the younger boy like this and pried one of her hands out of his grip. This caused Jisung to let out a sob as he looked at the girl with a shocked expression, mind racing again with the thought she was still mad at him. She quickly placed her hand on top of his own, her thumb caressing the top of his wrist. “It’s okay Jisung-ah. I would never talk bad about you okay?” She looked at him with red cheeks and teary eyes, still trying to stay strong. He nodded quickly just staring back at her, still apologising.

An hour had passed with the younger members talking things out a bit more, JiHo still felt hurt by their actions the day prior, but she also understood where they were coming from. Dream really cared for each other so it was nice to see them have each other's backs. Jisung had now glued himself to the girl, following her closely everywhere she went until Taeyong had called her to talk for a second. He had to clarify to the youngest that he meant talking to JiHo in private, which caused him to hesitantly walk away.

“I’m sorry JiHo, I didn’t mean to make it look like you caused the fight. I also didn’t mean things to become so messy and most importantly make you feel like you weren’t part of NCT. I did a horrible job as a leader-” The girl interrupted him with a hug, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I know you didn’t mean it. I should’ve told you how I felt earlier. But everything is going to be fine now. Okay?” Her whisper made him feel so much more calm. “Okay.” He answered placing his arms over her shoulders and pulling her closer.

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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n1kolaiz · 3 years

Text

"Man fears death and yet, at the same time, man is drawn to death. Death is endlessly consumed by men in cities and in literature. It is a singular event in one's life that none may reverse. That is what I desire."

Character Analysis: Dazai Osamu

Age: 22 || Ability: No Longer Human

I've done a lot of research concerning Dazai's character because of how complex he'd initially appeared to me. It is still a question as to what his personality type is; some say he's an ENTP while others argue that he's an INTJ, and his enneagram would most likely be 7w8 (The Realist), but that isn't the thing I'm going to focus on.

According to general databases and fan analyses, his temperament is dominantly melancholic. A person's temperament is basically how they react to and live in this world. For those of you not interested in such details, don't worry, I'll get to my point.

The melancholic behaviour is characterised by individualism, self-reliance, and reservation. People of the melancholic temperament are described as having been overcome with sorrow and depressive thoughts, which is beyond the feeling of "just being sad."

Nonetheless, they are generally calm beings, with a tendency to hide how they truly feel by keeping their composure, even in events that demand severe reaction otherwise. Other aspects of melancholic temperaments is that they are absorbed in the cruelty and tragedy of this world, and tend to get lost in their thoughts.

Sound familiar?

Dazai is seen to be as the comic relief of the adaptation, and he'd never fail to bring about a sense of lightheartedness to relieve the serious moments; we all know that for sure. Remember the time both him and Kunikida found Nobuko Sasaki in that godforsaken hospital, and how Kunikida asked him about his opinion on the current state of affairs?

But, despite having developed a calm and serene personality, Dazai's dark side was more apparent during the Dark Era. There was a type of intimidating and arrogant flair evident in his behaviour, or even on his face. It was the type of demeanour that came off cold and terrifying to the rather unlucky people he dealt with. In a moment's notice, they could literally die by his hands. And I believe most of them usually did. It was during this time, he was more brutal and vicious. He lacked remorse. Plus, Dazai's suicidal ideations were more dense during this Era, and his suicidal tendencies did not do anything to alleviate the depth of how dark his character was posed to be.

Side note: Unfortunately, people misunderstand this 'depressed' part of Dazai; they minimise his character so much to the point that people use only a single word to describe him: suicidal. He is, in fact, so much more than that. I'll elaborate more on that in a while.

"Hey, Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia? I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that… I would be able to find something—a reason to live."

Dazai's approach to life is that of an aimless soul, weary of the world's oppressions and exhausted from the concept of living itself. Nevertheless, what he said above about having an expectation made me realise something: he had a goal, which he wasn't that enthusiastic about achieving—seeking for a reason to carry on with life. So he joined the Mafia.

And there, he met Oda Sakunosuke.

Despite how resilient Dazai carried himself to be (especially during the Dark Era), this specific excerpt stands in direct opposition of how he effortlessly embodied all things daunting:

"With every step I take, I feel as though the earth has opened up into a bottomless pit as I fall endlessly. As Dazai pointed to his forehead and approached the muzzle, the look on his face – like that of a child about to burst into tears – had already been branded upon my eyes."

- quoted by Oda Sakunosuke, excerpt from Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era Light Novel.

When I read this, it sent my mind into a spiral of despair and confusion. It was so vague, yet it made so much sense. Dazai was desperate to escape from this life, but part of him seemed to live in conflict with his desire for death. I won't elaborate more on this, because this specific excerpt has personal meaning to me, as I'd expect it to have for others as well; so I wouldn't want to ruin anyone else's perception on it.

Back to my point: Odasaku was one of the only characters who managed to interpret the complexity of Dazai's mindset and was able to compartmentalise the specific details of his persona that made Dazai the way he was. Oda knew that Dazai wasn't just suicidal.

"For most things in life, it's harder to succeed than fail. Wouldn't you agree? That's why I should attempt suicide rather than commit it! Committing suicide is difficult, but it should be relatively easier to fail at attempting suicide!"

Others boasted about how he was just a suicidal maniac, and that was only because of how good Dazai was at concealing his own feelings whilst flamboyantly priding himself in new, risky techniques, which he sometimes elaborated on. But Oda, on the other hand, saw through his jokes, and empathised with his friend, never wanting to ever barge into his vulnerability without Dazai's permission, but still trying to be there for him.

"Listen. You told me if you put yourself in a world of violence and bloodshed, you might be ale to find a reson to live. You won't find it. You should know that. Whether you're on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

Notice how Odasaku recognised Dazai's despair, before Dazai even dared to acknowledge his very own emotions? That was why, at Oda's death, he took the initiative to uncover Dazai's bandaged eye to show him that there was no use in concealing his feelings anymore.

Odasaku's last words to Dazai was to "be on the side that saves people," for he was aware that even though Dazai didn't believe there was a clear distinction between good and evil, he thought that perhaps Dazai would find meaning in his life, even if it was just a little bit of purpose.

In Dead Apple, we briefly relive this moment, but I'll write more on that some other time.

And when Dazai joined the ADA, he loses that dark side to him. No, wait, let me rephrase that: he loses a part of that dark side to him. He eliminated the raw sense of bitterness against the world from his face, and instead, he is seen to be a little more passive, and a little more adaptive. No doubt, he still does explicitly state his desire to die, but his wishes are very specific, if you know what I mean.

And a few years later, his journey with Atsushi began.

Atsushi and Dazai's relationship is just one of a kind. I think it isn't a matter of whether Atsushi needed Dazai, or whether Dazai needed Atsushi. It's the fact that they both needed each other. It's the way they both worked hand in hand, and how they sustained each other in ways they were lacking.

The two were polar opposites, but they had a tender kind of warmth embedded in their protectiveness for each other. Atsushi was just as lost as Dazai, but somehow, they worked together just fine. It was like their duality was meant to be. It was the type of symbiotic relationship, where their care for each other was implied, but very deep.

Does this also sound familiar... perhaps, in relation to Dazai's friendship with Odasaku?

Side note: Oda and Atsushi have the same enneagrams, which is Type 2, 'The Helper.'

There is a sort of balance that is brought about by two opposites. Odasaku taught Dazai many things, and I believe Oda learned a lot about a man's life from the way Dazai lived out his life with the innate desire to die. Atsushi sought for the right to live, while Dazai searched for a reason to live; in addition, Dazai validated Atsushi's feelings, and Atsushi was able to acknowlegde the amount of pain Dazai was going through.

Despite how Dazai's perspectives and beliefs stood in contrast with those of Oda's and Atsushi's, a type of inseparable bond connected the man who no longer felt like he was human, to the people who was the most human.

No Longer Human in the Japanese romaji is 'Ningen Shikkaku.' Ningen means "human," and Shikkaku means "disqualified." The late author, Dazai Osamu, wrote the book No Longer Human. He had gone through the rough throes of trauma and wrote this book as a semi-autobiography, whose plot was centred around a man who faked happiness, for he was tainted by the truth that everyone around him was fake themselves. He turned his life into a joke in order to protect himself from the delusions of this world.

This brings us back to the melancholic temperament, where a person was too deeply immersed in the sad truths of reality and the world itself.

And that's what Dazai's character and ability is based on: being disqualified as a human being, because he wasn't well-versed with what being human was actually like. The fabrications of being human sprung up all around him, but he wasn't willing to be fooled by how ingenuine the world truly was.

“I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of their kind—of people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any wounds being inflicted, of people who seem unaware even that they are deceiving one another.”

- excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

People who don't feel human emotions or don't react to circumstances the way humans do have a variety of ways of explaining how they feel inhuman. They are highly intelligent, which separates them from the average class of humankind, since they've analysed and untangled the truths of life in order to attain understanding, which they value above all else. But, this understanding of the world and its painful truths results in a deep kind of sorrow, which only a few people can seem to empathise with in order to help them out with that burden.

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”

-excerpt from Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.

Don't you think that this deep sorrow that lies in the heart of the intelligent, makes them the most human of all? They're too human, to the point where they don't feel human. Perhaps, it is a type of defence mechanism, where the mind numbs the heart from feeling normal human emotion, because logically breaking down such concepts is easier than feeling them. But it comes at a price. The heart is willing to recklessly comprehend and fathom any sort of emotion, including pain in its true form, but the mind bears more pain in understanding such concepts because it seeks to decipher every single agonising detail of how complex human emotions are. The mind thinks, the heart feels. There is a clear distinguishing factor between the two. Whether feeling hurts more than thinking, or thinking hurts more than feeling, or whether both these processes work hand-in-hand to make up the reality of life itself, is up for an individual to decide.

Only a few people can seem to empathise with intelligent people who are deeply sad at heart, in order to help them out. As for Dazai, it was Atsushi and Oda. They never took away the pain, but they made him grow from it; it worked vice versa, too.

Of course, there are less tedious and more appealing aspects to the concept of Dazai's intelligence. Dazai was seen as a threat to his enemies because of how manipulation and his keen skill of deduction made up how sharp his mind was. Besides, no one could commit '138 murders, 312 cases of extortion, and 625 cases of fraud, along with various and sundry other crimes,' without having a certain level of intelligence, right?

Dazai had the moral alignment of 'chaotic neutral.' He was more focused on using his intellect to achieve the desired end results of a predicament, and he wasn't afraid to use the wrong means. A famous example was when he deflated the airbags of Ango Sakaguchi's car in order to gain the assured protection of Kyouka Izumi.

Justice is a weapon. It can be used to cause harm, but it cannot protect or save others.

Another example was when he blew up Chuuya Nakahara's car.

Just kidding. That was just a simple pastime (；・∀ ・)

His moral alignment points to what Oda said about him: the part where he mentioned that Dazai didn't really see any difference between good and evil. As long as his ends were achieved, especially if it were in the benefit of his fellow colleagues, he wasn't afraid to exploit, threaten, or endanger others' wellbeing. Because, at the end of the day, the end result triumphed the morally bad methods utilised to achieve it, correct? He always had a reason for his motives and actions, even if those actions were evil and inexcusable.

(eg. action: the psychological abuse he bestowed upon Akutagawa Ryunosuke.

motive: to enable him to hone his own ability favourably and to curb his arrogance)

But the consequences of one's actions will always catch up with a person, no matter what heights they've achieved.

Okay, we're reaching the end of my rambling very soon, I promise.

“If I had to go, I’d like to go out just as beautifully.”

“I’d prefer you don’t go.”

This part of the post is highly inspired by iwachuwu!!

An important factor of Dazai's development is highlighted BSD Wan's episode 10:

I'd like to appreciate that this scene focuses on how much Dazai actually means to Atsushi. When Atsushi responds with "I'd prefer you don't go," he said it lightheartedly for he thought Dazai was joking. But he wasn't. And once Atsushi absorbed the fact that Dazai meant what he said, he was overwhelmed with anguish at the thought of ever losing Dazai. Dazai, on the other hand, had a sense of longing on his expression. There was that look of pure desperation on his face. He was so desperate, yet he knew he couldn't act on his desperation due to a promise he'd made to someone dear to him. But keep in mind, Dazai is unpredictable, so we can never be sure of what's going on in that headspace of his.

Nevertheless, this time, Atsushi recognised Dazai's suffering, as no one usually cared to do, and Dazai didn't put in any effort to hide how he truly felt, as he habitually did. And this mutual emotional connection happened countless times during all the times Oda spent with Dazai as well.

To summarise,

Dazai's character had been carefully wired and patterned out in a way only a few would put in the effort to understand. Dazai was more than just suicidal; he was a being wandering from place to place with no specific aim. He was too smart for his own good. Dazai understood too well of how the world worked and deemed it void of any sort of hope.

Side note: Yes, the truth does come at a price, but it all comes down to how a person understands the truth. As for Dazai (both character and the author he was based off upon), well, it was quite tragic. But that's the way it is for some people, I suppose. But everyone has a different path to travel on, remember that.

His transition from working with the Port Mafia to the Armed Detective Agency was proof of how well-executed his character development was. It was two different personas morphed into what he is today: a womaniser with questionable morals a person who is still standing even after the rough refining process endowed upon him by the realities of this life.

However, he had people along the way come and teach him a thing or two, which perhaps made his life a little more interesting. Perhaps these people were passing clouds that hid the void out of sight for just a moment, and Dazai was always seen to be grasping on to these moments, and letting them go whenever it was time to let go.

His outlook on life makes his intellect look all the more intriguing. It shows that not only does his intelligence contribute to his own wit and shrewdness, but also the practical sense of realism that explains how tired he is of the concept of living because of the truths there are to bear.

However he's enduring the pain right now is by far the most bravest thing a person could commit themselves to doing. It takes courage, and it takes strength, but only a few would ever take the time to recognise such efforts.

Dazai has one of the most beautiful character developments, but I do hope that the development doesn't reach its end anytime soon.

fanart credits: @S7dOZPN3jWBB6cW on twitter

“Now I have neither happiness nor unhappiness.

Everything passes.

That is the one and only thing that I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.

Everything passes.”

excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

#bsd #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs wan #bsd wan #bsd dazai osamu #bsd characters #literature analysis #literature #dazai osamu #bsd odasaku #bsd atsushi #bsd analysis #bsd atsushi nakajima #.ryley.speaks

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volvaofowls · 3 years

Text

How will they react if they found out that you are in love with them?

- Maedhros

Maedhros could not believe that it is true when he found out. He has a lot of doubts and self-hate towards himself, for all the vile events that he had a part in. He will ponder for weeks after the initial finding out. Overthinking and doubting everything, sending himself in a deep emotional turmoil, unable to focus on majority of his duties. Ultimately, he will realise that he loves you and wants to be with you, he will come to you, confessing his fear and ask you if still want to be with him.

- Maglor

It was right after Maglor played one of your favourite melodies on the day of your birthday that you blurted out that you love him. Maglor will be shocked but he will quickly compose himself, jokingly saying that you beat him to the professing of love. He will take his harp again and ask you if you want to listen to more songs.

- Celegorm

Celegorm is very confident in himself. So, when he overhears your friends discussing your feelings for him, Celegorm immediately steps in, flustering them by saying how bad it is to gossip. He will interrogate them a little, asking more about when and how your feelings came about, meanwhile maintaining the most shit eating grin on his face. Celegorm is ecstatic, he always enjoyed flirting with you, seeing how it flustered you, playing with your and his own feelings. But he never went further than that, believing there is a very little chance you will be with him. This new revelation has given him a motivation to try for an opportunity to court you.

- Caranthir

Caranthir was lounging with his brothers in the evening, the feanorians were throwing around innocent jabs and banter at each other. Caranthir was like a fish in the water, he never backed down from their challenges, until Amras caught Cara off guard with his question about you. What does the youngest mean by when he will announce the courting officially? You are in love with him? What? What?! How did this happen? Caranthir was unprepared for this whatsoever. He would start to get red immediately, telling the other cheering brothers to cut it, before storming outside, trying to escape the situation. Caranthir has bottled up his emotions for you for a long time, and it seems like he is finally confronting them for the first time.

- Curufin

You can see that something is off, Curufin started to spend less time with you and is actively avoiding you, being cross with you in conversation and passive aggressive in general. The reason is that Curufin overheard your confession and he thinks that you being with him is a bad idea. He is actively trying to busy himself to exhaustion and pushing you away as much as possible, so not to even consider seriously the idea. He cares about you a lot, and he doesn’t want you to be scrutinised for being with one of kinslayers, not to mention the danger.

- Amrod

When Amrod opened the door into the room and heard you expressing your love for him to someone else, he quietly closed the door, making sure neither you nor other person noticing him coming in and overhearing the conversation. He feels like if this is something you wanted to share with him you would have done so. He will smile thinking about how cute your admission was, by the morning he will decide that he needs to be the one to make the move and stop dancing around you.

- Amras

Amras knew about your feelings for him way before you even realised them. And it just made him so happy and his body will tingle with static. Amras and Amrod are the youngest in their house and accomplished little compared to older brothers, so for you to find him worthy of love is such an honour. Amras feels like a winner. He waited patiently for you to be ready, and when you finally confess your feelings Amras will interrupt you, happiness just erupting from him as he blabbers his own confession, not wanting to wait any longer for the love and affection to be restrained.

- Celebrimbor

Telpe is a poster child of impeccable manners and always appears collected in public, so when he overhears you saying that you saw him working shirtless in the forge and nearly came up to him and kissed him right there and then, he goes so redder than his uncle Caranthir. Celebrimbor quickly makes a tactical retreat into his forge, this is a completely unexpected turn of events and he doesn’t know what to do, on one hand he wants to find you and confess, and on the other he doesn’t want to embarrass you and admit to overhearing. Eventually he will come out of his shell and find you to tell of his own emotions.

Bonus:

- Glorfindel

As soon as he finds out that you return his feelings, he will hug the closest person to him, informing them that you and Glorfindel are in love and telling that person how blessed and happy he is in that moment. He will make sure to pick up the biggest bouquet of the golden flowers, he might bump into several people and nearly fall two times on his way to you. Ready or not Glorfindel cannot wait to finally be able to look into your eyes and see confess openly to you his feelings.

- Fingon

The first son of Fingolfin has felt his soul yearn for you for a long time, but he was afraid that there was too much of a gap between you two, his status as a high king of noldor demanded his full dedication and prioritisation of his duty above all else. He is not as free as you are, and he was hesitant to confess his feelings to you, not wanting to pressure you. When at a festival, you drunkenly confessed to him your love, Fingon felt the warmth from your reciprocation which was immediately cooled down by the breeze of reality. He will look into your eyes, stroking your hair as he does so, telling you how much he wishes to just be with you. Fingon will wait until the day after to confess to you his feelings without fear, to court you for everyone to see, to be able to kiss like he wants to and just to be able to promise you that he will be there with you for ever.

- Gwindor

Gwindor will be shocked. After his enslavement he hated to look in the mirror or even at other people, because he will see there the scars and faded valour and worse of all, the pity. So, when he heard that you are in love with him, he tried to convince himself that its most likely a misunderstanding or some kind of cruel joke. Gwindor will avoid you, not wanting to put you in uncomfortable position. Thus, he will observe you from a distance, to see if your feelings for him were actually true, employing the help of Turin to ask about your feelings. When he hears you confirm your feelings for him to Turin, his heart goes into gallop, he is not sure if this is a dream. Just now you made him believe in himself again, for the first time he is hopeful, that no matter what he went through there is still someone who loves and believes in him.

255 notes · View notes

ibijau · 3 years

Note

Here's a prompt: Lan Xichen somehow dies while in seclusion—or at least that's what the rumors say—and Nie Huaisang deals with the consequences. And heartbreak. As the saying goes, you don't realize how much you love someone until they're gone.

Okay, if that sort of plot interests you, do yourself a favour and check Between the Shadow and the Soul which is exactly that. It's an amazing xisang fic, I cannot recommend it warmly enough!

And now:

Warning in this fic for a lot of references to suicide and depression

It struck Nie Huaisang as interesting that he felt so little about the whole thing. His reaction upon learning the news had been first to dismiss it as a joke in poor taste. Once it had been confirmed, and his presence had been required, he'd been too busy planning his trip to give it much thought. Then he'd arrived in the Cloud Recesses, just in time for the funeral, and gone through the motions of what was expected of him. At most he'd felt mildly when asked to keep vigil, as if there was still any connection between them. He'd only agreed for the sake of appearances, refused to look at the body, and gave his seat to the next mourner as soon as was polite.

The ceremony itself was conducted to perfection, as could be expected of the Lans. Every word was said the right way, every gesture graceful. It was almost a beautiful thing to behold, Nie Huaisang distantly thought. Lan Qiren's monotone voice was better suited for such events than for teaching, certainly. And Lan Wangji had always looked his best when in the throes of loss and despair. Sadness just became those Lans a little too well, as if they'd been born for tragedy.

Perhaps they were.

Nie Huaisang did not dwell on the subject, and allowed time to pass him by until at last the ceremony was entirely over. He would have gone home right then if he could have, his duty accomplished, but it would have been noticed and discussed. Nie Huaisang did not want to get mixed up in the gossip that was sure to spread around after this.

“Did they tell anyone what he died of?” Sect Leader Yao asked in a too loud whisper while waiting for the refreshment promised to the guests.

“I've only heard that because of his seclusion, it took them several days to even notice he had passed,” Sect Leader Ouyang replied. Then, noticing Nie Huaisang standing alone nearby, he gestured at him to join them. Nie Huaisang tried to pretend he hadn't seen them, but it was in vain as Sect Leader Ouyang called him by name until he couldn't be ignored anymore. “Join us please! You were his friend, weren't you? Surely you must know more than us.”

It was a sign of the hollowness that had seized Nie Huaisang since learning of the news that he did not laugh. What friends they had been indeed. Once, perhaps... but no, the word would never have been right to describe them. They were acquaintances at best, brought together out of love for Mingjue, torn apart after his death even if Lan Xichen hadn't known it then.

He'd learned it, in time.

Two years earlier, when Nie Huaisang had finally given a proper funeral to his brother, Lan Xichen had tried to talk to him about everything that had happened. Lan Xichen had wanted the truth, and he'd certainly gotten it. Nie Huaisang, bitter and angry and broken after going through the pain of burying his brother again, had not spared the other man a single detail of everything he'd done, everything he'd learned, everything he'd felt.

Two weeks after that, Lan Xichen had entered seclusion and they'd never met again, unless one counted what little time Nie Huaisang had spent with the other man's coffin.

Nie Huaisang did not think it counted.

“I have not been told anything more than anyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, more careful than the other two to keep his voice down.

“It is just too odd,” Sect Leader Yao said. “A man his age doesn't die without reason, and his cultivation was far too great to allow for sickness!”

“Surely I don't know what Yao-zongzhu might be suggesting.”

“I am just saying it is very odd,” Sect Leader Yao insisted, glancing toward Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji with what he had to consider a knowing expression.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang said.

They were thinking Lan Xichen had been murdered, then.

It was amazing, he thought, that anyone could misunderstand Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji this much. Perhaps the second's reputation was no longer as pristine as it had once been, due to his open association with the Yiling Patriarch, but he could hardly have been accused of killing his brother when he profited so little from his death. It was to Lan Qiren that the title of Sect Leader went, something which had been decided long ago, and which Lan Wangji would have known. Not that Lan Wangji would ever have wanted such a title. And as to accusing Lan Qiren of murdering his nephew, it was ridiculous. There were few men in the world whose honour Nie Huaisang believed in, but Lan Qiren was definitely of the number.

If it was not an ordinary sickness that had killed Lan Xichen, and it was not another person either, then it left only one option.

The Lans tended to easily fall prey to melancholy, Lan Xichen had once told Nie Huaisang, during one of those rare true and sincere conversations between them, when they had both bared more of their soul to the other than they'd intended. And that melancholy was a powerful sort, Lan Xichen had explained, more dangerous than any disease, any war, any demon. The way he had spoken of it had made it clear that Lan Xichen himself particularly struggled with it ever since becoming Sect Leader during the war, a struggle he hid under a mask no less carefully crafted than Nie Huaisang’s. Lan Xichen had told him he thought that melancholy would overcome him someday as it had done others in his family, an affliction no less powerful than that the Nie suffered.

So it was clear to Nie Huaisang that the manner of Lan Xichen's death was...

His whole body shook as he hurriedly fought to contain a sob.

“Nie-zongzhu?” Sect Leader Ouyang said with concern. “Are you unwell?”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He was fine. He was unaffected. They'd never even been close.

Another sob had to be contained.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath, and smiled weakly.

“Nothing dramatic,” he said with a voice he scarcely recognised as his own. “A moment of... I have known him for so long.”

“Of course. This must be hard on you. He must have been like a brother to you.”

Nie Huaisang made a noise. A sob, or a laugh, he could not have said, but it was too loud and attracted more attention than he cared to deal with. Having spent the last couple of years carefully working to undo the damage he had done to his own reputation, Nie Huaisang could not have born to be seen crying in public, something he now felt the danger of. He muttered some vague apology to the two men standing near him, and excused himself from the assembly. He managed to keep himself in check until he had left everyone behind, and only broke into tears when he was sure to be alone.

Gone was the numbness that had so puzzled him since hearing that Lan Xichen had been found dead, because the full horror of that loss finally hit him.

Lan Xichen was gone.

Lan Xichen was dead.

He would never again come by the Unclean Realm in answer to a desperate plea for help that never really needed his input. There would be no more praises of Nie Huaisang's birds, his fans, his paintings. No more gentle comforting and undeserved patience.

Lan Xichen was dead.

And if Nie Huaisang had acted with less cruelty, Lan Xichen might not have killed himself.

Nie Huaisang, a month after returning home, wondered whether melancholy was a contagious ailment, and whether one might catch it from sitting near the corpse of a man who had died from it.

He made the mistake of asking Nie Liyan, his favourite cousin and heir, expecting her to laugh or tease him. Instead she gave him a most pitiful look, and told him that melancholy was most often caught in such a manner, especially if the corpse was that of a person held dear.

It had never occurred to Nie Huaisang to think that Lan Xichen might be dear to him. The man was merely there, full of good intentions and blind to the nature of those around him. They had shared pleasant moments together perhaps, but no more than Nie Huaisang had done with others. In fact, Nie Huaisang was quite sure he had laughed more with Jin Guangyao than with Lan Xichen. If asked, he might have admitted that he'd held warmer feelings than he ought to have toward the man who had so cruelly murdered his brother. But Lan Xichen?

Nie Huaisang would have been hard pressed to decide what he felt for the man while he was alive. Only in death was he forced to realise that Lan Xichen too had been an important figure in his life and, yes, perhaps dearer than he would have liked. But it was hard to hate a man such as Lan Xichen, he told Nie Liyan when the realisation became too bothersome to bear it alone. Nie Huaisang simply could not imagine that anyone in the world might have met Lan Xichen and not liked him.

“I've never understood what people saw in him,” Nie Liyan had just replied. “And I've told you as much many times, even before your brother's death. His looks were good but not to the degree everyone claimed, he smiled too much, and he spoke too much like a book.”

“That says more about your tastes than about his qualities,” Nie Huaisang retorted hotly.

“Perhaps. Or it says something about your tastes.”

That insolent answer had not pleasant Nie Huaisang, who had promptly changed the topic, and never breached it again with her.

The melancholy did not ease with time, but instead invited some friends to live with it in Nie Huaisang's heart.

Such as a sharp terror over the concept of his own mortality.

Nie Huaisang had always known he would die early. It ran in the family, and he'd seen it happen twice already to his own relative. Considering his own temper, his weak and unstable cultivation, Nie Huaisang had long feared that he would not even live long enough to see his brother avenged. This had made him frustrated with the slow pace he'd been forced to endure, which in turn had only had a worse effect on his general state. Things had improved after the death of Jin Guangyao, making Nie Huaisang hope he might perhaps make it to the venerable age of forty, something neither his brother nor his father had managed.

The death of Lan Xichen robbed him of that hope.

It was only, Nie Huaisang told himself, that the loss had reminded him people died of reasons other than familial curses or to pay the price of their hubris. Death, even for cultivators, was not an uncommon occurrence, so no man could leave his bed in the morning and be certain he would return to it at night. And if he were to die now, what would he have to show for it except a sect that still wouldn’t be treated seriously, and the blood on his hands?

That consideration was also an important one in making a decision. No matter how hard he tried, Nie Huaisang couldn’t seem to correct the reputation he had given his sect. When people talked about the changes happening in Qinghe Nie, the way it might has started to become reliable once more, they always felt the need to point out that it could be nothing more than a stroke of luck, something that was sure to return to normal very soon under Nie Huaisang’s poor guidance. It was a source of great annoyance to him that people now considered it normal for Qinghe Nie to be weak and useless, when not twenty years earlier it had been greater than Lanling Jin.

It would take a dramatic change for people to accept that Qinghe Nie was returning to its roots.

So Nie Huaisang told Nie Liyan that he would abdicate in her favour.

She was more than ready for this, he told her. They had been working in tandem since long before the death of Jin Guangyao, and she had proven multiple times that she would handle the position of Sect Leader better than he ever would. She was a good administrator, with great martial art skill, a cultivation level that was among the best in their generation. She was also an excellent teacher, and well liked by all the disciples, from young juniors who had never known their sect’s glorious days to elders who’d known Nie Huaisang’s father as a young child. Nie Huaisang and Nie Liyan had always agreed that she would succeed him if he died the way his family so often did, or whenever he would decide to give up on a position he had never wanted.

“Are you sure now is the right time?” Nie Liyan only asked him.

“There is no right time for these things. But Lanling Jin is still not quite stable yet, Gusu Lan is in the hands of an old friend, and Yunmeng Jiang is caught up in the Jins’ business. That means the three great sects won’t give you a hard time as you settle in, and I know you can handle the others.”

“And what will you do?”

“Travel, perhaps,” Nie Huaisang replied without conviction.

He had never planned for what he would do after handing her his title, and realised suddenly that he’d never expected to be alive for that. No matter how often they discussed the possibility of a quiet succession, Nie Huaisang had never really considered he would be luckier than his father and brother. Yet there he was, suddenly forced to accept that tomorrow was something that existed for him while also dreading the uncertainty of his own mortality.

Nie Liyan accepted his answer, and they set out to plan the succession, calculate the best possible date for it, and choose how to announce the news to other sects. They did not talk about Nie Huaisang’s future any further, for which he was grateful. He had a vague suspicion that Nie Liyan thought he intended to kill himself, which would explain why she kept suggesting he took a companion with him when he left.

Nie Huaisang promised to consider it. He even did wonder who in the world might be a travelling companion worth putting up with. Nobody from his own sect would do, as he thought they would quickly grow bored of any destination that might appeal to him. And there was no one left outside of Qinghe Nie who he felt close enough to. It was only a pity, he thought one night, that Lan Xichen had passed away, as he would have been a very interesting person to have on a journey. Someone who shared his sense of beauty and his love of great landscape, who would not complain if Nie Huaisang asked to stop and paint but might instead join him. And perhaps travelling in that manner might have lifted some of Lan Xichen’s melancholy in a way that locking himself up away from the world could never have done.

Perhaps it could have saved Lan Xichen.

Nie Huaisang slept little that night, half drowning on sorrows and what-if that could never come true.

Come morning, he told Nie Liyan that he would travel alone, and she did not insist.

Nie Huaisang left the Unclean Realm as soon as the succession ceremony was over so he wouldn’t have a chance to change his mind. He recently bought an excellent horse, and the animal was packed with whatever belongings could not be put inside a qiankun pouch. Nie Huaisang had money, he had clothes, everything needed to paint and write. He even had a destination in mind at last, one suggested to him by Lan Qiren, of all people. The old teacher, upon learning of his intention to step down, had written him a thoughtful letter wishing him the best of luck in his new life, inviting him to come and stay in the Cloud Recesses if he ever went that way so they might play weiqi together, and suggesting he should go visit Baidi in his exile, where he too might become inspired to write some poetry. Perhaps, Lan Qiren added, a place so rich in history would help him find new meaning to his life.

The idea had something romantic to it. More than that, though, Nie Huaisang remembered that several times over the course of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen had expressed a wish to visit the city, while always failing to find an excuse to do so. It seemed appropriate that Nie Huaisang’s first destination should be inspired by the man whose death had forced him to reconsider his own life.

So Nie Huaisang set out toward Baidi, and promised himself to enjoy his time there, for Lan Xichen’s sake as well as his own.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #xisang #I guess? I mean it was the original intention but then things didn't go as planned #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

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suna-reversed · 3 years

Text

HQ boys as Taylor Swift songs-folklore

characters- Oikawa (exile), Atsumu (my tears ricochet), Meian (illicit affairs)

tags/warnings- ANGST, breakup, heartbreak, cheating, mentions of alcohol, manipulative behaviour, fluff in Meian’s if you squint

suggestions for pt2 would be appreciated (currently thinking of cardigan with Bokuto and hoax with Tsukishima)

Oikawa

“I can see you standin', honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all”

He had told himself over and over again to not look; in the flight, in the ride to the hotel, even as he passed the entrance gates of the exquisite banquet hall where the reunion was being held. All he had to do was keep his eyes away.

But you were here, and he had never been good at withstanding the cosmic pull you always held. Even if you were in the arms of another, laughing like you always used to, with him.

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

“What changed, Tooru?” Your eyes were red and puffy, you had exhausted all your tears while he simply stood in the corner and watched.

“This isn’t going to work out y/n. We’re both miles away, with different lives, in different time zones, around different people; we can’t have a relationship built on nothi-” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “...I’m saving both of us from the pain that would come with splitting a few years down the line.”

“Do you still love me?”

Oikawa was familiar with the grief that came with loss; the grief of giving something every single bit of your soul, only to come out empty-handed and wounded.

“Go back home, y/n.”

You're not my homeland anymore

So what am I defendin' now?

You were my town

Now I'm in exile seein' you out

Perhaps he had damned himself to ruination. Given up without a fight. But that didn’t matter now.

You look ethereal, with stars in your eyes and glee in your smile. It doesn’t matter if he’s not the one behind it. You would have been a shell of who you are right now if you had stayed with him anyways.

He turns around, heading for exit.

Just one last time. He promises himself. His lips curve upwards into a bittersweet smile as he turns around to get his last look. Instead, he finds himself staring into the expanse of an entire galaxy. A cosmic explosion coming his way as the floor shifts from beneath him.

No, you definitely don’t sound the same.

How long has it been since he heard that voice?

“Not even gonna say goodbye before you leave Oikawa?”

What happened to your precious “Tooru”?

Atsumu

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

The clock reads 01:27 am. You’ve been sitting on the couch for the past 3 hours, the untouched dinner on the table gone cold long ago. You hear the sound of a door slamming shut, hushed footsteps making their way towards the center of the apartment, coming to a halt at the sight of you.

“Why are you still awake?”

“You promised we’d have dinner together tonight.”

“Listen, it got late at practice, you could’ve just eaten without me.”

“You could’ve at least dropped a text.” You murmur, trying to keep your voice from breaking. This wasn’t the first time he had stood you up.

“It’s not that big of a deal y/n. You realise how important the upcoming match is to me, don’t you?” He sighs, shaking his head in disappointment, “Let’s just go to bed okay, I’m tired.”

“Okay.” You mutter, loosening your grip on the 2 year anniversary gift hidden below the couch cushion. A platinum ring with yours and Atsumu’s initials carved on the inside.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you

As you bury me

Atsumu’s vision is blurry, shirt drenched in sweat, his head pounding as he’s pushed against the wall. He doesn’t know whether it’s from the screaming match he just had with you, or from the two bottles he chugged at a shady bar right after he walked out.

All that matters right now is the feeling of the hands of the girl that’s kissing his jaw. The same spot where you had pressed a chaste kiss not too long ago as you told him that you were going to leave-

No, he’s not going to think about it. All that matters is the touch of skin against skin, filling in the void you caused as he kneads the supple flesh of her thigh with his hand. The same hand that bore a platinum ring, the letters engraved inside of it now fatuous and futile.

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

You turned into your worst fears

No, no, no.

Why are you here?

Why are you back?

“I had hoped we could talk-” You take a deep breath, feet stuck in place as you lay your eyes upon the marks littering his jaw, his neck, going much farther down-

A sob comes out from deep inside your chest.

No, no, no.

He’s looking at you, your crestfallen face, tears falling off of it like british showers.

He’s acting before he can think, falling to his knees, grabbing onto your waist as you try to walk out.

“No! Angel, please just let me explain. I thought you were never coming back- I would've never-”

“Never what Atsumu?!” Your voice is louder than you expected it to be.

“Never what? A single fight is all it takes for you to discard everything we ever had? For you to step over everything I put into a relationship that has barely even existed for so long!”

He’s never heard you shout before. But it's okay, it’s okay if you shout at him, if you break a few things, hell you can wreck his whole apartment if it means that you’re staying for even just a moment longer.

But you’re not. You’re pushing him away, movements stern, as you try to make your way to the door. All he can do is cling onto you, crying your name over and over again as he racks his brain for a way to make you stay.

Why was it always you who knew what to say when it came to fixing things?

Meian

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head

Keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

You knew there were aspects of his life he had no control over. After all, he was watched by thousands of eyes everyday; the star player, the golden boy; the captain of MSBY. So how does it matter if you had to go a mile extra to hide what you had?

You loved who he was as a person and how he made you feel. Good-morning and goodnight texts, warm cuddles after matches, dancing in the kitchen to songs you don’t know the name of, late night drives to get takeout or go stargazing, laughing till you were on the floor crying. You loved him so much.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings

And stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A billion little times

“Volleyball player Meian Shugo spotted with a blonde beauty at the MSBY vs Adlers afterparty. Could she be his rumoured girlfriend that we’ve been kept in the dark about all along? Read more for exclusive deta-”

You can’t shed a single tear staring at the cover of the magazine. Not because your heart hasn't just been ripped out of your chest, but because you’re in public, standing in line at the grocery store picking up snacks for you and...Meian.

Why did you not see this coming? What hurt more was that you knew the girl. Meian had introduced you to her as a friend, and her as his social media manager. So this was clearly a misunderstanding right? It had to be. Despite telling yourself that over and over again, you still couldn’t get the picture of his arm wrapped around her waist and the smile etched onto his face out of your mind as you drove home, tears blurring your vision.

Don't call me kid

Don't call me baby

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

“Baby please listen to me-”

You’re sitting on the edge of the couch. You don’t know how long ago you stopped screaming, how long ago the anger dissipated and the rage turned into silent sobs, leaving behind a gaping hollow feeling in your chest.

You feel him shift closer to you but you don’t at him, still sniffing, your head buried in your arms.

“She was at the party because she’s our manager, you know Jessi-”

“Don’t say her name.” you hiss out.

“I wish I never met you, I wish I never got into this stupid arrangement. I wish-” You’re rambling now, sobs escaping between every few words as you try to comprehend the situation, “I hate this. I hate you.”

Heavy silence hangs in the room.

And you know damn well

For you I would ruin myself

A million little times

You find arms being wrapped around you and your head being pulled into a warm chest. You try to fight at first, but you’re tired; your throat hurts, your eyes burn and everything feels so cold, so you let yourself guiltily fall into his comfort, pathetically sobbing into his neck.

He patiently waits for your sobs to quiet down, one hand rubbing gentle circles onto your back while the other cradles the back of your head.

“She was at the party with the whole team and the publicist used it as a way to create gossip. That’s all there is to it. I had not given my consent for them to go ahead with this, but they refused to make our relationship public. Apparently, they didn’t think that the age gap between us would reflect well on my reputation.”

Meian’s heart breaks at the sound that leaves you as he says that, your hand gripping onto the fabric of his shirt as you start sniffing once more.

“I don’t care about what they say princess, you know that.” He kisses the top of your head, pulling you even closer to himself as if he could absorb the pain from you.

“I’m so sorry, give me another chance please. I didn’t tell you because I knew it’d hurt you. I promise I’ll make it up to you, please?”

You look up at him. His eyes are filled with tender love and pure adoration, it makes your heart melt. You nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Of course you would, he's your precious Meian, you’d always forgive him. Why did you ever think he’d do anything to hurt you?

Meian smiles into your hair, ignoring the sound of the notification popping up on the phone kept on the table,

Jessica: hey, we're still on for tonight right ? ;)

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elven-child · 4 years

Text

For real though, I’ll never shut up about how happy I am that Jon and Martin never fitted into my most hated trope aka Two Characters Get Together And Suddenly Lose Half Of Their Personalities Because Romance Magically Made Miscommunication Disappear.

We all know stories like this I think? People fall in love because it’s implied in their first scenes together, and after they get together, problems occur only when the plot needs it because there’s no time to show more mundane conflicts and misunderstandings. And it makes everything feel plain flat. Empty.

And I’m so glad TMA takes time to show that entering a romantic relationship doesn’t magically make you and the person you love perfectly synchronized and aware of the other’s needs in advance. It doesn’t change you as a person overnight. Your personal development influences and is influenced by relationships with people close to you but it’s not the same thing. It seems to me that many pieces of media portray a very hurtful notion that conflicts and misunderstandings only occur when people have actual bad intentions towards each other/say hurtful things on purpose. Which is frankly the most bullshit thing you can come up with. But we see it over and over again because there’s no screen time to explore more nuanced situations/the relationship is not the main focus etc etc.

Except normally differences between people just come up, all the time, always in unplanned, often at inconvenient moments, because that’s what happens when you spend time with someone - you realise over and over that you’re not the same person. And it’s not a sign of malicious intent, it’s a sign of literally just having a fucking personality of your own. Some personality traits (not even flaws, just regular normal personality traits) simply clash. And it’s nobody’s fault. And I’m just. so happy it’s so obvious with Jon and Martin, and there are both big (Martin encouraging going full Kill Bill after Jon said he was feeling guilty he’d enjoyed killing Not!Sasha) and small (Jon choosing Really Bad Moments for his jokes) examples for this.

Yeah, they love each other! They are saying and showing it over and over again, episode after episode! It still doesn’t change the fact they just haven’t had enough time together to learn some things about the other. And even if they have, they wouldn’t know everything about each other, because that’s just impossible (I know that Jon could, but that’s not what I mean here and I hope it’s clear asgdgdhfhf). But loving each other means they try to talk things over and communicate stuff over not only different traumas, insecurities and frustrations, but also things as simple as different life experiences, world views and personalities. They care enough to choose to make their feelings clear, to set boundaries, to apologise when necessary. Reaching out in any form is always a choice. Often a really hard one, not because you don’t want to, but because it requires an effort.

Honestly I could go on and on and write twice as much to talk about the circumstances in which they have to try to develop a very fresh relationship, including everything leading up to it such as all of season 4 (but also more than that). But this thing is already long enough so.

tl;dr media are constantly hurting us by making us think that every miscommunication and conflict between people is a sign of hurtful intentions. season 5 jonmartin is not all sunshine and rainbows and perfect understanding because jonny made an unpopular writing choice to let them keep their personalities

#the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #elven-child rambles into the void

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undertaker1827 · 3 years

Note

Could you do 15 20 and 23 for Undertaker and their s/o finding out he is a grim reaper not being afraid of him bec she knew from the very moment they met, he was different and accepted that from the very start. [sorry for my english]

Of course! And your English is great! Also I kinda got carried away (there’s around 2k words) I just loved the prompt. Enjoy!

Prompts in bold

❗️Warnings; Canon-typical violence, reader gets attacked/minorly injured (UT saves the day, tis all good), said attacker gets knocked unconscious and doubting & hurt/comfort-ing ensues, but there’s a fluffy end I promise

Masterlist

Your steps echoed through the dark, empty city streets, not a soul about apart from you. It was to be expected, you supposed; after all, it was midnight. You had been out with a few friends and the time had just slipped away from you all until you remembered that you had work in the morning and you needed to get home quickly. Having not intended to be so long, the only mode of transport was either walking or getting a taxi, and the latter seemed a little ridiculous to you given that your apartment was only just around the corner. That led to where you were now, taking a shortcut through a less than advisable area of town so you would get home quickly.

There was a sudden scuffle behind you and your whole body tensed, heart jumping and mind racing with possibilities. You risked taking a glance behind you, doing your best to slow your breathing when you realised nothing was there. Unnerved but determined, you carried on at a slightly faster pace and focused on getting to the door of your building, which was now only a few minutes away, less if you were to walk any more quickly. The second noise you heard behind you was closer than the first and enough to set your every nerve on edge.

Nausea crawled up the back of your throat when you distinctly sensed someone following you, heard their footfalls as they broke into a run and felt each limb start to tremble with the ensuing rush o adrenalin. You broke into a full sprint hardly daring to turn for long enough to make out any more than a figure dressed in black, face covered by fabric and holding something that glinted in the halo of light coming from the back window of someone’s workshop - - was that a knife? The thought spurred you on even more heart pounding and preparing to scream for help, but you just weren’t fast enough.

You let out a muffled yell as you were tripped up and landed unceremoniously on the concrete pavement, chin scraped and lip split as your face collided with it. You couldn’t care less about that now though, immediately twisting over and trying to haul yourself to your feet, ignoring the pain blossoming from the ankle you landed on. Again though, you were too slow; a hand pressed to your mouth and a steel blade to your throat prevented any escape attempts you were going to make. Your eyes widened in fear and you desperately tried to press yourself further back into the concrete, but it was no good.

“Stay still,” your attacker hissed out at you, digging the knife a little further into your neck, “and be quiet.”

You hands gripped his wrist automatically, fingers trembling, but both your attentions were drawn by the arrival of a second person. You looked over your shoulder to find a man silhouetted at the near end of the backstreet you were in, a large, familiar coat flaring out around him and one arm out to the side, holding a… stick? Whatever your attacker was going to say, be it a warning to leave or a lie that this wasn’t what it looked like, the other spoke before he had the chance.

“I will say this once, and once only,” he said in a cold, hard voice, so different from his normal joking tone and one you hadn’t ever heard him use before. “Let them go.” Each word was pronounced individually, as if being made clear to a child who was likely to misunderstand. He took a step forward to punctuate each one, now close enough that you could see the grey hair that draped over his shoulders and hung down his back. The stick was a sotoba, you realised, you had seen a few of them scattered around his parlour. You always thought they were there for the aesthetic.

Fear still coursed through you, but now it was for your long term partner as well as yourself. What did he hope to accomplish against a man who held a knife to your throat?

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you go before you cause anymore bloodshed.” This was accompanied by a poignant press of the knife to your neck, a single, hot drop of blood trailing don your skin. And there was something else you never expected to see displayed by your beloved Undertaker. Pure, barely restrained rage.

You hardly managed to keep track of the events that unfolded, but one minute he was standing there a few paces away and the next he was right next to you. The knife dropped to the floor with a clatter and your attacker let out a cry of pain. If the angle of it was anything to go by, his wrist was both dislocated and broken. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened as the mortician grabbed the man by his collar and held him as high into the air as possible, then threw him back against the brick wall of the building he had been holding you against just moments earlier. You floundered for a second or two before realising there was a massive blade held to the man’s throat, a polished silver that curved gracefully into a human skull and ribcage, the spine of which had been whittled down to a handle that was easily as long as you were tall. The sotoba was gone.

As your gaze trailed back up Undertaker’s form, you came to a second realisation. His bangs were shoved back away from his face and you could see his eyes. And they were glowing. He seemed utterly detached from the man’s frightened whimpering, as if his begging made no sound at all.

“You thought it would be fun, I believe,” he stated in confident mockery, “to pick on someone weaker than yourself. How does it feel now, hm?” The mortician let him drop down a few inches as his hand found purchase on his throat, grip tightening until you could see it was a physical struggle to breath. “How dare you.” The last had fallen to a threatening whisper, Undertaker’s face far too close to the other’s. You could see the man’s struggle was weakening, the lack of air starting to have its effect. “I won’t kill you,” Undertaker muttered at length, “you aren’t worth my time.”

With that, he let go entirely, disinterested gaze watching as the man crumpled to the floor. His eyes then flicked over to you, taking in the hand you were holding to your throat and the fear practically radiating off of you in waves. He fancied he could hear your heartbeat even as you stood several steps away. The mortician languidly held out a hand as he said your name, waiting until you moved towards him to pull you into his chest.

You thought you had only blinked once, but in that fraction of a second, all of your surroundings had changed. It was Undertaker’s parlour that you were standing in now, not some dingy side street with a man who had tried to kill you now laying unconscious against a wall. The mortician stepped away from you quickly, a little too quickly really, and moved to lay the scythe against a coffin. You stood still, unsure what to do after everything that had just taken place and unprepared with the intensity that would come from your partner’s gaze when he turned back around on his heel to face you.

“Are you alright?” It was still the same, serious voice from before, though now instead of being laced with anger, all you could hear was concern. Your fingertips drifted back to your throat as you contemplated whether you actually were alright or not, though you frowned when Undertaker went to reach towards you then stopped, almost as if catching himself from doing something he knew he shouldn’t. Your frown only deepened when he stayed an arm’s length away. Physical contact was always something he had loved, craved even, so why he was acting so strangely now when you could really do with the contact you didn’t know. You made the executive decision then that his bizarre reasoning didn’t matter, opting to close the distance between you and wrap your arms securely around his body, head tucked into his shoulder and eyes closed. You were still shaking and Undertaker ached with a deep, broken sadness so strong that he didn’t realise he was once again raising his arms to hold you. He dropped them immediately, but you were still just standing there and now it seemed like you were holding back tears as well and everything he did was just making things worse -

“Fox?” You whimpered out the name you had adopted for him past the obvious lump in your throat and he could have sworn that he had never felt so guilty for anything before.

“Yes?” His voice was hoarse too.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but please just hold me.” Your words were so small and frightened, something in the reaper just snapped. A hand on your side brought you impossibly closer to his and he hauled you up into his arms, one hand supporting your back and the other carding back through your hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed his nose against your neck, avoiding the injured part, and left a series of gentle kisses there as sobs started to wrack your frame. You had no idea how long you stayed like that but over time, you became aware of the reaper murmuring the same set of words against your skin, over and over again.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He was holding you so tightly that something in him was afraid he might hurt you, but you were holding him in return and he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Your tears having finally subsided, you tilted your head to leave a kiss on his jaw, halting his flow of words.

“Stop apologising, you have nothing to be sorry for.” The chartreuse eyes that met yours were full of so many different emotions that it was almost overwhelming. He moved a hand to cup your face, thumb carefully brushing over your lower lip.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Your stomach dropped at the fact that he thought you would be.

“You’ve given me no reason to be.” He looked for a moment like he didn’t want to believe you, so you took his face in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, relief flooding you when he kissed you back. “I knew you were different,” you continued, not breaking eye contact, “I’ve always known. I just didn’t know how.” The mortician gave a small nod.

“I’m a reaper,” he told you, “retired. It was my job among many others to collect the souls of the dead.” You just nodded, smiling a little. He let out a sigh as his eyes caught the crimson staining on your neck. “Let me do something with that.” Another smile.

“Thank you.”

Undertaker cleaned and covered your wound efficiently but with gentle hands, making sure he didn’t hurt you. From the angle your head was at to give him best access to your injury, you could just see the top of his grey hair, feel its weight over your legs as he leaned close to you. You started running your hands through it and playing with the ends almost subconsciously, missing the small glance he gave you out of the corner of his eye.

The mortician only moved back a fraction when he finished seeing to your neck, close enough that you could still play with his hair. Close enough that he could see you rather than sense you and do so without the need for corrective lenses. You looked straight back at him though, and stole the words he was going to speak before he had the chance.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tilted his head affectionately, a few strands of hair crossing his eyes and leading you to push them out of the way. The reaper leaned into your touch immediately and you buried your hand in his hair, fingertips trailing over the roots. His eyes were soft when he opened them again.

“You’re the beautiful one, love.”

#undertaker x reader #black butler undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader #adrian crevan x reader #undertaker #adrian crevan #undertaker black butler #kuroshitsuji undertaker #black butler #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader #black butler reader inserts

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yohangaontdj · 3 years

Text

Fictober 2021 (Gahan) - Day 11

Prompt No Day 11 - "I swear, it's not always like this."

Fanfiction Fandom: The Devil Judge (TVN), Gahan, Lawful Husbands, Kang Yohan x Kim Gaon

Additional Character: Oh Jinjoo

Rating: Teens and Up

Warnings: Misunderstandings. Humor at first and very mild violence and angst towards the end. Forced kissing. Getting to know each other.

(This takes place after Gaon planted a bug in Yohan's office and before the bomb went off in the same office. In this fic, Jinjoo thought that the two of them were having a secret relationship and Yohan decided to play along just to test Gaon.)

“I swear, it’s not always like this,” Jinjoo, face thoughtful as she watched Chief Kang exit their office for the second time today.

“What’s not always like this?” Gaon looked up from the document he was perusing, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

Narrowing her eyes at him, wondering if he was joking, Jinjoo was surprised to find that Gaon really had no clue. He just stared blankly at her and Jinjoo shook her head at how dense he could be.

“I’m talking about you and Chief Kang. There’s something going on between you two, right.”

The way Jinjoo spoke with an assured certainty, drove Gaon to clutch his coat pocket in fright. How did she know?! He had been so careful, choosing the wee hours of the morning to commit his crime. And even Chief Kang hadn’t suspected a thing despite catching him in his office that very same morning.

Clearing his throat, Gaon cautiously approached the subject.

“Judge Oh...I know it’s not exactly legal but...”

“What do you mean by it’s not legal!” Jinjoo suddenly stood up, eyes blazing with a fierceness that had Gaon pushing his chair backwards until it thunked against the glass wall.

“That’s between you and Chief Kang and no one, not the law nor the heavens above can stop you two from being in love!”

Gaon’s jaw dropped open, thrown off course by the statement Jinjoo had just made. Then he began spluttering, hands gesturing in a panic.

“What gives you...how could you even think that we are...that we two...that we... Are you sure you didn’t eat something wrong for breakfast!”

Gaon had turned a crimson red which even tainted the tips of his ears.

“But it’s so obvious!” Jinjoo retorted, her voice edged with exasperation, “See he’s here again.”

Eyes darting to the door, Gaon saw Chief Kang pushing it open, looking at him first before turning his gaze to Jinjoo.

“Is there something wrong?” Yohan frowned, picking up the tensed vibe permeating the room. He tried to get a read on Gaon but he had hid himself behind the monitor and his other associate judge was staring at him with a strange expression on her face.

“Look, I’m pretty open-minded,” Jinjoo decided to lay all the cards down, never one for pretending when she already knew the truth, “At least keep me in the loop so that I know when to scoot and leave you two together.”

“Jinjoo! You got it all wrong!” Gaon hissed and Yohan caught sight of how flushed and flustered he was.

Putting two and two together, Yohan smirked when he realised what was going on. And to his surprise, he found that he didn’t really mind the misunderstanding he had unwittingly caused.

It was mostly curiosity that had drove him to come here, ever since he found Gaon’s bug tucked underneath his table. How could someone so resembling Isaac be so different in behaviour? Isaac would never break the law but Gaon was bending it just to keep an eye on him. It was disconcerting and intriguing and it was like an itch beneath his skin. Yohan had to know who Gaon was and he didn’t want to rely on some written words found in a resume.

“I’m sorry,” Yohan nodded in Jinjoo’s direction, “You know how it’s like when you’re just starting out...”

“Chief Kang!” Gaon’s voice was a little loud and a tad impolite for a subordinate to speak to their boss. And instead of being offended, Yohan winked at Gaon and waited to see what he would do next.

Gaon couldn’t believe what his chief had done – going along with what was obviously a falsehood brought about by Jinjoo’s misunderstanding. He even had the audacity to wink at him as if they really had a secret the two of them had been keeping.

Then understanding hit him and Gaon stared at his chief, unable to hide the anger burning in his eyes.

He knew.

Chief Kang knew about the bugging and yet he chose to pretend he didn’t. And now, like a cat toying with a mouse, he had purposely made the two of them an item just to see how Gaon would react.

Shooting him a disgusted look, Gaon turned to Jinjoo.

“I think Chief Kang ate something wrong for breakfast too. He is clearly addled in the brain to think that we are in a relationship.”

“Gaon!” Jinjoo admonished, appalled at how disrespectful Gaon was being. And Yohan stepped in, grabbing Gaon’s hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Don’t mind him,” Yohan smiled, tightening his grip to prevent Gaon from breaking free, “You know how shy he is, especially,..”

“There’s no such relationship, no such secret! It’s all a...”

“A what?” Yohan looked at Gaon, challenging him to speak the real truth and Gaon clamped his mouth shut.

He could have cleared the misunderstanding by revealing what he had done. But he couldn’t, not because he was afraid of the consequences but because Soohyun would be implicated. The last thing he would ever do was to hurt her in any way.

Unwavering loyalty.

Yohan was impressed. It was obvious that Gaon was protecting someone for the wiretap wasn’t any store-bought. It was a high-quality item that could only come from the hands of the police.

Looking at his watch, Yohan exclaimed in mock dismay, “My goodness, lunch time is nearly over. Do you mind if I borrow him for a little while more. There’s this really romantic place that I want to bring him to.”

“Sure sure, take all the time you need,’ Jinjoo was clearly pleased that Chief Kang had spoken to her as if she was part of their team, helping them to keep their relationship a secret.

With a sinking heart, Gaon realised that his chief had cleverly won Jinjoo to his side. And no matter how much he were to argue and protest and explain, Jinjoo would never believe a word that he says. Worst still, Chief Kang now had a free-access pass to him with Jinjoo willing to help him whenever it was needed.

Gritting his teeth, unhappy and yet unable to stop his chief, Gaon let him drag him out of the office. The moment they were out of earshot, Gaon grabbed him pushing him through the exit door which led to the seldom-used fire escape staircase.

“Why are you doing this!”

He shoved his chief against the wall, etiquette be damned.

“Why did you bug my office?”

Yohan answered his question with a question and again, was met with silence. Gaon refused to say a word, stubborn determination evident on his face.

“I could go to the police, you know,” Yohan suddenly stepped real close, intruding into Gaon’s personal space, “And what will become of you then.”

Instead of fear, Gaon glared at him, hands curled into fists as he stood his ground. And Yohan couldn’t help but admire his guts, especially coming from someone who had no power, no wealth, no connection.

“Threaten all you want,” Gaon squeezed his words out through clenched teeth, “It won’t work cause I’ve got nothing to lose.”

And that was very true. He hadn’t wanted this job in the first place. He had actually applied to go to the juvenile courts but then his professor, no, he was now Chief Justice Min had urged him to come here instead.

“Nothing to lose...really?”

And before Gaon could stop him, Yohan had pushed him against the wall, kissing him with a brute force that was all about making a point and nothing to do with love.

Gaon fought him, hands pushing and scratching and Yohan grabbed one of them, slamming it against the wall hard enough to wrench a groan from the younger man. Taking advantage of his parted lips, Yohan delved in, hard and forceful and he didn’t stop until the fight had gone out of Gaon.

Letting go, Yohan watched with guilt and regret as Gaon slumped onto the ground, burying his face in between his knees. Muffled sobs could be heard as the younger man shook and trembled and Yohan sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration.

Crouching down, Yohan made sure that Gaon was looking at him before he state his point.

“Never ever say that, understand! We all got something to lose...”

Even me.

With that, Yohan moved away, sitting on the steps not too far away. Staring into the distance, wondering why he had decided to play this game, Yohan waited for Gaon to calm down so that he could drive him home instead.

(For more Fictober 2021 (Gahan) - Read here.)

#fictober21 #the devil judge #gahan #lawful husbands #kang yohan x kim gaon #yohan x gaon #just my silly brain thinking silly things

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