#wolfsbane blooms au

[varilien]

halloween idea: werewolfwood ??? :]c

okay sorry this wasn't going to be vashwood but i put on a couple random werewolf movies while working on it and they were consistently SUFFUSED with romantic themes so. coughs.

werewolfwood as ever has a cranky face but a soft little heart :)

#trigun #trigun anime #trigun fanart #vash #vash the stampede #wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #asks #anonymous #halloween #really liked wolf (1994) and couldn't put my finger on exactly why until i realized it's basically just like #every modern + werewolf fanfic i ever read as a kid where it's like. major plot happening which is Only Complicated by the werewolf thing #the werewolf thing is secondary to the actual conflict thing and i love that i really really do love that dfhghfdk #wolfsbane blooms au

[friskarm]

Since this is now done, I'm doing one last post for this fic. My werewolf au leblise fic is now finished 👍 At 29,000 words, it's pretty hefty, but it's still a pretty fast read, I think. If you have any interest in werewolves; if you really enjoyed the witching hour segments in LGTS, or if you just really, really like Leblise then I encourage you to give it a nudge 🫡

Thank you to everyone who has been reading it up until now 🙇

#lgts #little goody two shoes #elise liedl #lebkuchen lgts #leblise

[honey-minded-hivemind]

And rooting itself in final place as number ten of the 🐉Wings of Fire aus names lists are...

The 🌲LeafWings🍂!

The X-Men Members:

• Charles Xavier/Professor Xavier: Xanthium

• Ororo Munroe/Storm: Oleander

• Logan Howlett/Wolverine: Walnut

• Scott Summers/Cyclops: Sumac

• Jean Grey/Marvel Girl/Phoenix: Juniper

• Hank McCoy/Beast: Hawthorn

• Anne-Marie/Rogue: Mahogany

• Remy LeBeau/Gambit: Redwood

• Kitty Pryde/Shadowcat: Pecan

• Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler: Nightshade

• Jubilation Lee/Jubilee: Lily

• Evan Daniels/Spyke: Spruce

• Bobby Drake/Iceman: Mandrake

• Piotr Rasputin/Colossus: Columbine

• Illyana Rasputin/Magik: Iris

• Rahne Sinclair/Wolfsbane: Wolfsbane

• Samuel "Sam" Guthrie/Cannonball: Calla

• Roberto da Costa/Sunspot: Sundew

• Danielle "Dani" Moonstar/Mirage: Mistletoe

• Laura Kinney/Wolverine 2.0: Laurel

•Tabitha "Tabby" Smith/Boom-Boom: Tansy

The Brotherhood:

• Erik Lehnsherr/Magnus/Magneto: Magnolia

• Raven Darkholme/Mystique: Holly

• Victor Creed/Sabretooth: Cedar

• Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver: Poplar

• Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch: Willow

• Mortymer Tonybee/Todd Tolansky/Toad: Sycamore

• Fred "Freddy" Dukes/Blob: Bloodroot

• Lance Alvers/Avalanche: Larkspur

• St. John Allerdyce/Pyro: Pine

(I believe this has grown its' way to the end... but we have one more bud to bloom before this is over, and it is the...)

• Reader/Bby: Ginkgo, Oak, Banyan, Maple, Beech, Palm, Elm, Chestnut, Birch, Hickory, Eucalyptus, Yew, Fir, Ivy, Sumac, Snakeroot, Hellebore, Foxglove, Crocus, Saffron, Poinsettia, Snowdrop, Hyacinth, Azalea...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #🐉Wings of Fire AU #🌲LeafWing🍂 AU

[winxngasks]

As mentioned briefly here, another project I had in mind for Winx Club was redesigning/reworking my Main Universe next-gen kiddos! I haven't touched these guys in a suuuper long time, mostly because I've been focusing on the AU next-gen universe but also I haven't had as much inspiration or motivation to work with my main next-gen, if that makes sense? But, that is something I want to change as I will be working on them in-between the redesign posts for the canon characters.

So first up, we have Bloom and Andy's kids! I shared a little bit of my ideas for Jasmine in the post linked above, but here are some more notes for all three of the siblings!

================================================

- Jasmine: 15 years old, daughter and middle child of Bloom and Andy. Citizen of Gardenia, Earth, and Fairy of Storms. Short height, soft and round body type that is slightly chubby, messy, shoulder-length dark brown hair, cyan blue eyes, fair skin, mole on the right side of her chin under her mouth. Very humble and level-headed, as her and her siblings grew up in a simpler life on Earth than a royal one or one in the Magical Dimension. She does however, have quite the feisty and fiery temper when she gets upset or experiences the slightest inconveniences sometimes. Pretty experimental and adventorous, she is not afraid to try new things out or explore new places, even if it can get her in trouble sometimes. As such, she is often the one that gets her other group members roped into all sorts of fairy missions, good or bad.

- Aidan: 17 years old, son and oldest child of Bloom and Andy. Citizen of Gardenia, Earth, and Wizard of the Dragon Flame. Tallish height, lanky build that is slightly muscular from physical training, short, messy/spiky medium-red hair, light yellowish-green eyes, fair skin. A natural prodigy at his magic, he is currently already in his last year at Wolfsbane Prep but cannot wait to graduate and start living his own life. Rather serious, hot-headed, and easily frustrated at times, he is protective of his loved ones as he does not want to see them get hurt from his power. He does have some anxiety and insecurities when it comes to his Dragon Flame magic as he does not want to abuse it or lose control, so he only uses it in class or when absolutely necessary. Although he is a wizard he is honestly only attending school for it out of social pressure, as he would rather work on his song lyrics and work on getting his small band to become more successful.

- Mckenna "Kenna": 9 years old, daughter and youngest child of Bloom and Andy. Citizen of Gardenia, Earth, with no signs of possible magic at the moment. Short height, skinny build, slightly past chin-length, straight, medium-brown hair that curls slightly at the ends, brown eyes, fair skin. A timid and shy girl, she seems like the complete opposite of her mother and older siblings. Yet despite this, she still tries to be kind and friendly to all those she meets, and tries to keep her cool around those who upset her. Seems a bit closer to her father as she is musically gifted like him, though she prefers to explore music more through dancing and acting. Her closest friend is Prince Leo of Solaria, who helps her with her confidence and to come out of her shell and try new things.

#winx club #winx #next-gen #ocs #main universe #redesign #revamp #sketch #character concepts #jasmine #aidan #mckenna #their bios are still mostly the same as before but with minor changes #they might get bigger ones whenever I do get around to making finished drawings for them again

[thatmexisaurusrex]

i need to know about A Prince and His Bodyguard from thw ip game immediately!!!

WIP MEME

Oh my gosh, I'm actually super excited about this, and it's coming soon. Basically, it starts with Prince Sam Wilson sneaking off from his latest personal bodyguard, Walker, in order to explore a nightclub. There he meets one half of the infamous Charmes Siblings drag duo, Hecate "Heca" Charmes - aka Bucky Barnes.

They spend the night together getting to know one another without knowing who the other truly is. Heca even helps Sam evade the man tracking him through the nightclub (Walker).

The next day, Sam has to find a new personal bodyguard and Bucky comes into the palace to get a security guard position after he was fired from his museum job when they found out that he does drag at night. They meet by chance when Bucky gets lost in the palace. Sam decides to interview Bucky for the position of personal bodyguard.

Sam realizes that Bucky Barnes was the Bucky Barnes who was once a world champion gymnast who almost went to the Olympics before a plane crash severely injured Bucky and Bucky lost his arm. Sam recognizes him as the gymnast who had inspired Sam to pursue competing in international championships and eventually go to the Olympics himself before his mother, the Queen, told Sam to retire after that one Olympics.

Sam decides to offer Bucky the position of personal bodyguard and Bucky accepts the position.

It's a Prince/Bodyguard AU as well as a Gymnast AU to some extent (with some Yuri!!! On Ice inspiration), a Drag AU to some extent, idiots in love, fluff with a dash of angst.

Here's a little excerpt of it, though, it still might change a bit before I post it:

“Beautiful, right?”

Sam jumped.

He was beautiful. Dressed in drag. A silver chiffon and gemstone dress made up of a pack of white wolves with icy blue eyes with high heels that looked as if they were made out of ice. They matched the silver belladonna-leaved chaplet atop his tussled hair with small braids that were intertwined with silver snakes made from woven thread and silver mandrake blooms. Negative space lavender eyeshadow seeped into drawn on outlines of wolfsbane dripping down the man’s face. Glossy, metallic silver lips with lavender belladonna flower outlines drawn atop the silver. A glove that looked as if it was made from silver dittany climbing up the man’s one arm.

He looked familiar, but Sam wasn’t quite sure how.

The man smiled at Sam as he pointed to the bookshelf filling up the tall wall before them, where the books created a mural of a woman draped in gold and rubies with falcons resting on her arms.

“I think it’s supposed to be a painting of the first queen of Delacroix, Darlene,” said the man.

Sam nodded, smiling at the mural.

“Darlene the Falcon Queen. It was said that she used to extend her arms and the falcons would grab her and pick her up. Fly her away like that,” said Sam as he giggled, his arms wide open like the mural, “Can you imagine that? Holding your arms out like this and some falcons casually grabbing you and flying off with you like you’re post-lost the ring to the fires of Mount Doom Frodo and Samwise.”

The guy laughed.

“I didn’t know that,” said the man, looking from the mural to Sam with his arms out still, “How do you even know they’re going to drop you off where you want them to drop you? How many falcons would it take to pick up a person?”

“All good questions,” said Sam as he thought about how he walked past the actual portrait that this mural was inspired by way too much, “I ask myself that every day.”

“Historian?” asked the man curiously, leaning on the bookshelf.

Sam shrugged.

“Kind of. A bit of a fossil, in some respect,” said Sam with a sigh, “Sometimes an athlete when I’m allowed. Mostly an explorer when I can manage it.”

“An explorer?” asked the man, “Color me intrigued. What does that mean?”

“I don’t get a lot of opportunities to go out,” Sam said, pretty sure this man could tell that Sam was side-stepping something important, “But when I get the opportunity, I jump on it.”

The man nodded.

 “This one of those opportunities?” asked the man.

“I hope so,” said Sam, “I’d love it to be, especially with someone like you.”

#thank you for the ask samky 🥰 #sambucky fic #sambucky #bodyguard au #royalty au #gymnast au #drag au #idiots in love #tooth rotting fluff #mild angst #prince sam wilson #bodyguard bucky barnes #wip meme #tag game

[midwrites]

about the ao3 wrapped,,, 3, 27, 29!

3. what work are you the most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

This one's tricky, mostly because I think I'm very proud of almost everything I have uploaded to AO3 be it for one reason or another. Regarding overall quality and how they are turning out, damn your wife probably takes the cake. It's just a very fun fic to write and overall, and in spite of its popularity, my little comfort zone to indulge in exploring characters, style and other stuff. I'm also very proud of Where the Wolfsbane Blooms but for very different reasons. It was the first fic of a decent fic I finished after a long writer's block, and even if it is not perfect by any means, I am still very happy with how it turned out and the means to explore Tozer and Irving it gave me, when I had barely written anything for Terror fandom.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Alas, WIP playlists are a guilty pleasure of mine and almost everything I've written has one attached to it. Recently I've been working on chapter 3 of damn your wife, so I've been listening to a lot of intrumentals that I'm compiling into a playlist that I'll hopefully be able to polish when I'm done with the fic.

29. Favourite line/passage you wrote this year?

I hate this question because I ALWAYS end up pasting whole ass paragraphs into it but this time I'm gonna try very hard to be brief:

"He wants for things that his hands were not made to hold." From you're dead (and out of this world).

"When the man smiles, bold and canine, Tommy cannot tell whether what dribbles down the corner of his cracked lips is wine or blood." From this snippet of my Armitozer Roman!AU.

There's a lot of moments in damn your wife I REALLY like, but I think about this bit often:

"For a moment, Tommy stops to properly look at him. At the earthen brown pants he has donned, the beautiful cream coloured shirt that hugs his thick arms so beautifully and the brick coloured waistcoat and neckerchief he’s wearing, giving him the air of a gentleman out for a wedding, not of a carpenter readying himself to go fulfil an important job.

That’s the lapel where I would pin a golden buttercup, he thinks, That’s the neckerchief I would fix with a pretty knot. Those are the lips I’d kiss goodbye.

“Any man would be lucky to have you as his wife,” Sol rumbles with a teasing smile, his eyes telling Tommy enough about how bluntly he has been caught staring.

#midrants #ask game #ao3 wrapped #decomposingfungi #THANK U FOR THE ASK

[blueprint-han]

desert rose — yang jeongin.

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

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

pairing: jeongin x reader

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

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

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

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

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

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

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

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Good, now go collect your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lend me a hand, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was pretty.

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

Oh my, was this love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

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

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

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

Except, you had no happy ending.

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

It was hard.

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongin can hear the noises.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

And that’s a wrong move.

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

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

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

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

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You doubt it ever will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Jeongin is devastated.

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, love.”

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

“Where’s m-mom?”

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

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

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

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

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

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

Was this the end?

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

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

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

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

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

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

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

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

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

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

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

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

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he leaves.

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

But you feel so empty.

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

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

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

“Honey?”

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

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

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

“W-why?” You croak.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

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

“Good night mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

Was he the reason you were going to die?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, go to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh… alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

It’s the least he can do.

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

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

“Can you do me another favor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, doctor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

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

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

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz​ @stayverse​ @districtninewriters​ @kpopscape​ @skzwritersclub​ + @sunoo-luvs​ @sleepylixie​ @rae-blogging​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah​ @p2q3r4​ @baby-innie​ (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

#vracha #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz jeongin fluff #jeongin fluff #jeongin angst #skz jeongin angst #skz hanahki au #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #yang jeongin imagines #yang jeongin scenarios #blood tw #disease tw

[illogicalruse]

Chapters: 1/2 Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki Additional Tags: Hanahaki Disease, But not in the traditional sense!, Fluff and Humor, Pining, Light Angst Summary:

As Kojiro gazed upon the countless cherry blossoms nestled into the blooming skeleton of every tree, he got the sense that the universe was a regular conspirator. He wished, at the very least, that it would whip up less hackneyed schemes.

AU in which Kojiro begrudgingly pines, sakura trees are evil, and Hiromi is a really, really good friend.

#sk8 the infinity #matcha blossom #matchablossom #renga #lanreki #sk8 #cherry #joe #jerry #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo

[witchersjaskier]

coffee shop au plsss?

jaskier drinks only his fancy home-made coffee, where he weighs everything and times his blooming and pouring and everything. geralt loves them sweet, colourful drinks that don’t even have coffee in them. they’re both hipsters.

they both work in the same coffee shop and they both absolutely hate it, for different reasons. jaskier hates how shitty the coffee is, geralt hates the people and the smell of coffee but it pays well so they suffer it.

jaskier ofc talks all the time but it’s actually geralt’s dry comment that makes them talk. jaskier bursts out laughing and spills milk all over himself, which in turn makes geralt snicker and drop a glass. it’s a mess and they’re just standing there, milk and glass all over the floor, laughing

from then on they take turns sniping at each other, making sarcastic comments over the clients, and basically being little shits. 

jaskier is tattooed and he asks geralt to design his new one and for no reason at all geralt does a wolf and a wildcat together, surrounded by buttercups and wolfsbane. one night, after their shift, jaskier brings his own stuff and makes geralt a truly good coffee, grinning as the other man almost moans at the first taste

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

#witcher #the witcher #jaskier #geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geraskier au #headcanon #coffee shop au #ask #they're adorable #and absolute hipsters

[mjrtaurus]

DRSG AU

By far the most unpleasant thing about being a newly chosen member of the pack is the process of building up an immunity to wolfsbane.

While lethal even to humans, the plant is something else entirely to a lycanthrope. As a collective conscious, to kill a werebeast is to only pick off a member of the pack. The other souls woven into the pack- and their bodies, by extension- remain untouched.

The true horror of wolfsbane to a lycanthrope is that it spreads throughout the pack. A death sentence, if they are unwilling to undertake the dangerous and painful process of acclimating their selves to the poison.

To gain immunity, a lycanthrope must start small. Incredibly small, and must be incredibly careful. To let the toxins even touch bare skin is to dance with Death himself.

Till began his journey as each of his packmates did in centuries past. At night, he steeped the cautiously plucked blooms in spring water for a whole lunar cycle.

His morning tea was taken from then on with a single drop of the toxic liquid. This practice was continued until it ceased to make him sick.

And then a second drop would be added. And so the cycled would be continued for years until the body could take the whole of the unaltered brew without so much as a bit of queasiness.

It was a painful undertaking, but it is well worth not being the cause for a whole pack's death.

#rammstein songs as aus #drsg au #werewolf pack rammfam

[varilien]

Vampire vash and werewolf wolfwood

werewolf kabedon...

#trigun #trigun fanart #trigun anime #vash #vash the stampede #wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #asks #anonymous #halloween #do y'all know that one were-ralph post. smn smn werewolves and eye contact. i shant elaborate but anyways vash is very 👁️👁️ iykwim LMAO #wolfsbane blooms au

[friskarm]

ch 4 of the leblise werewolf au is out now!! things are happening... we're now halfway done wahoo

#little goody two shoes #lgts #elise liedl #lebkuchen lgts #leblise #yippeeeeee #we're continuing with the low-effort formatting for the tumblr posts #sorry

[fericita-s]

Lessons

This Agduna story takes place in the All is Found series , a roleswap AU idea that @agdunaavenger​  came up with and that @the-spaztic-fantastic​ and I wrote.  Iduna and Agnarr are enjoying being married and alone in the forest. She tries to teach him how to fight with a wooden staff, and they both win.  You can thank @the-spaztic-fantastic​ for this one; it is purely through her encouragement and beta-ing and influence this became a finished product instead of something we just messaged about forever. Also blaming @thegeekogecko​ because she tagged me on some swordplay stuff that I couldn’t get out of my head, so here is my contribution to some sexy fighting with weapons that could kill you. So tag you’re it for the next sexy fighting story, @thegeekogecko​!

“Are those apples? I didn’t know there were apple trees in this forest!” Agnarr reached to pick one but drew back, looking to Iduna to be certain it was actually an apple and edible, and not one of the many plants that she assured him could kill on contact.

Shortly after their boska harvesting, he had picked some wolfsbane for its bright purple flowers, thinking to decorate their bleak cave with something beautiful.  But she had kicked it from his hands and then made him wash in the river even though it was already frigidly cold, all the while explaining with increasingly frantic speech that it was only to be touched while wearing gloves. Its only purpose was for a coating on arrow tips meant for wolves.  Not animals they could hunt and eat.  The poison would kill anyone who tried to eat game felled by a wolfsbane arrow.  

He then spent the rest of the evening feeling his face for drool and his hands for numbness, imagining it there, and feeling the need to vomit even though it was surely from nerves and not his brief contact with the plant.  

It was not a fond memory.

Iduna nodded to him and he pulled two off of a low-hanging branch.  “Yes, some English monks planted them generations ago.  They told some confusing stories about bearing fruit for a god that no one could make sense of, but we appreciate the fruit all the same.  There are sweet pears somewhere too.”

He tossed an apple to her and they bit into them, Agnarr watching as some of the juice dribbled down her chin and she swiped at it with a finger and brought it to her lips to taste the sweetness.  He loved being able to look at her this way, admiring her openly without worrying she would catch him at it. Since the winter, their closeness was intimate in a way that brought him much satisfaction. 

And just like he had made a study of the forest and the ways to survive in it, he had made a study of his wife and what gave her satisfaction.  The sigh she made when he ran his hands from her ankles to her hips, the way she pushed at her leggings, annoyed, when fabric separated her from him as they pressed against each other at night.  And best of all, how she would move against him and then stop for a moment, her eyes fixed on his and her mouth open with a silent plea that he answered with a caress and a movement of his own that led to his favorite sound yet.

He took another bite of the apple and watched as she continued to eat hers in a perfect line around the middle of the fruit, her even bites marking a white trail. “I’ll make a ladder so we can get the ones high up.”

“No need, I can climb and get those.”  She tilted her head looking up. “Though, I haven’t climbed much without the wind to help.  A ladder might be wise.”

Agnarr smiled, pleased to have a useful idea, pleased that the forest which had been so starkly bare during the winter was now blooming again.  Sometime over the course of the winter, loving his wife had begun to feel like an act of hope instead of an act of desperation.  And now the blooms of spring were proof that hope was justified. 

He took another bite.

***

Iduna watched as Agnarr used the knife to peel a layer of bark off of a tree branch. He had a pile of evenly cut pieces of wood that he promised would soon be a ladder, but this branch was thicker than the others.  He frowned, turning the branch over in his hands.  

She enjoyed watching him work.  He was so serious about it, yet somehow still playful.

Even in their first few weeks, he had worked hard to learn how to hunt and trap and build, yielding to her expertise and offering up silly stories of cotillions and tea parties and festivals that made them both laugh.

She smiled, remembering how awkward he was the first time she showed him how to fly on the wind. Nervous, but willing to follow her lead, trusting her to teach him and keep him from plummeting to the ground.  He’d been scraped and bruised a bit, but exhilarated.  The joy in his face when he first flew above the canopy, the way he reached out his hand to hold hers, it had given her heart a lightness that she carried even now. If he had started like a drunken duck, he had finished their lesson like a reindeer calf.  Perhaps unsteady on his legs but carrying the promise of future usefulness.

There was a litheness to his body and an eagerness to learn that had made their nights a delightful exploration.  And mornings.  And afternoons.  What had begun with awkward and eager fumblings, with whispered questions and breathless assurances, had become practiced and adept. Now when his hands moved to her hips and he pressed against her, it was heat and desire, their laughter for the joy of the act and not to cover embarrassment.

Yes, she was glad to have a husband who learned so well. And though he was more skilled in the pursuit of their shared pleasures than he had become at spear fishing or assembling the wooden slats into their kota, she supposed some endeavours were more rewarding in their accomplishment.

She might have blushed at the thought if anyone had been around to see, but it was just the two of them in this part of the woods. So instead, she walked over to him and took the branch out of his hand and ran her hand up the length of it.

He motioned to it. “This one’s thicker to start with.  Should I peel more layers away or look for a different branch?”

She shook her head. “It’s too thick for your ladder.  But perfect for a staff. For fighting.”  She handed it back and sat next to him.

“You’ll have to show me how.  I only know how to fence and wrestle.  Some of that might be helpful, but what I saw the day of the battle…” He shook his head and covered his hand with hers.  “I don’t know how to do that.  But perhaps I should learn to help keep us safe.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder and he stuck the knife he had been using in the ground. Then he brought that hand up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb up and down her cheekbone as they breathed in and out. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know.  We have nothing to fear from my people now, as long as we stay away. But I think it’d be good for you to learn.” She sat up smiling, pushing away the darker thoughts that would take hold if she let herself think for too long about what their banishment was intended to do to them. “It will be fun.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. You’ve told me all about fencing.  This isn’t so different.”

***

“This is very different,” Agnarr groaned as Iduna pointed the pointy end of the fishing spear toward his neck, her foot on his bare stomach and his body splayed in the dirt.  “And why do you get the pointy one?”

“Because you didn’t want to make two staffs and I’m improvising.  Which you should do more of, stop thinking about the foot patterns from fencing.  Look at your terrain and your environment.  Use it.”  Iduna removed her foot and offered a hand to Agnarr, who instead of using it to pull himself up, pulled her down so she was lying on top of him, the bare skin of his chest warm and wet with sweat through the borrowed shirt of his she was wearing. She lost her grip on her spear in the sudden movement and sensation and shrieked.

“That’s not fair! I was offering mercy!”

“Well, I am a Southern bastard.”  He laughed as he held her tight against him and winked.  “You should have listened to your brother’s warnings.” His old shirt billowed away from her leggings in the breeze and his hand moved from her hip to her exposed back.  He ran his hand up and down her spine and felt her shiver under his touch before gripping his arm around her waist and flipping them so that she was the one with her back against the earth. He raised himself to his knees and smiled at her triumphantly. “Improvising.  I rather like it.”

Iduna slid her hands from where they were pinned under his legs and moved them slowly up his thighs, smiling at him. “Very good. And what else do you like?” One hand continued its climb towards his hip while she used the other to lightly scrape her fingernails on the underside of his arm.  Her smile grew wider as her hand reached the wooden staff now loosely held in his hand and she pulled it from his grasp, knocking him on the side of the head and scrambling out from under him as he brought both hands to cradle his temple and groaned. 

“Now who’s not playing fair?”

She stood, bending her knees a bit to brace for a new attack as he reached for the fishing spear and twirled it about his head in the way she had demonstrated at the start of their lesson. “I think I like the pointy one better.  It’s quicker.  Deadlier.”

Iduna lifted her staff in swift motion, knocking at the spear and succeeding in making Agnarr fumble it so it landed in the dirt.  She stood her staff in the ground and leaned against it. “I think we’ve learned that I’m the quick and deadly one.  Not the weapon.”

Instead of leaning down for the spear, Agnarr lunged toward her and kicked at the staff. Iduna dodged his foot by rolling into a patch of grass. She tucked herself so her arm didn’t take weight in the fall and jumped back up. As she rose, she saw that Agnarr had the spear in hand again and was holding it in front of himself like a shield.  She advanced on him, knocking at his slender piece of wood with her heavier staff, and they traded blows only twice before his spear snapped in half and he looked at the two pieces splintered in his hands, laughing. He threw them at her one at a time and she knocked them away with the staff. 

“What now?”  She grinned.  “Are you ready to call mercy?”

Agnarr dropped to his knees in front of her. “I’m always at your mercy.  And do not regret it at all.”

Iduna raised the staff above her head. “Victory! Let the spirits witness it!” She lowered it again and then let it fall in the dirt, as Agnarr’s mouth found the skin on her stomach, his bearded face tickling her as he burrowed under the voluminous shirt.  His hands moved to clasp her backside and she lifted the sweaty shirt off of her head, the warm spring sun welcome against her exposed skin. He took the shirt from her and placed it like a pillow on the grass and as Iduna laid against the soft earth, she asked “Best of three?”

He pressed against her and laughed. “Let’s do what we do best instead.”

Iduna pulled him down so he lay on top of her, the heat of their skin so alive against each other she thought it might be their bodies that were calling Spring into life. His face was an inch from hers, his breath was the same as hers, and before he covered her with his lips and tongue and feverish fingers, she nodded.  “Yes, let’s.”

He kissed her neck and traced a line from her collarbone to her neck before his final words for a while. “It’s my turn to make you demand mercy.”

She laughed and then gasped, grateful again that he was so determined to get this right.

#agduna #All Is Found #AIF #Frozen #fan fic #sexy married times #fighting with a wooden staff #both literally and figuratively happens #in a consenual way

[shierak-inavva]

when the wolfsbane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright

a penny dreadful style obidala au rated: M

"Even a man who is pure in heart And says his prayers by night May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms And the autumn moon is bright." || or || which beast is worse to face: the one without, or the one within?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354629/chapters/55952359

#obidala #fanfiction #obidala fic #wow god look at this i'm back at it again #NOBODY MENTION THE GRAPHICS I LITERALLY MADE THEM ON MY PHONE AND I KNOW THEY'RE AWFUL LMAO #i can't edit for heck sigh BUT i'll doodle more for this au #we're 2 chapters in now and there's Tension™ and some very dramatic touching and it's all very subdued but the longing is starting #it's about the YEARNING.jpeg #i have no idea why i've started writing this but buckle in because you're in for a ride if you read along

[daydream-hobii]

Shadows & Wolfsbane | Chapter 14

Genre: Poly!AU; Werewolf!AU; Shapeshifter!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: BTS x Female!Reader; Alpha!Reader, Beta!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Alpha!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Beta!Jungkook

Summary: Y/N is the youngest Alpha in her compound, owning a whole village. She was born by two Omegas, and originally wanted to be killed, but things were changing in her universe. At the end of the year, each Alpha can pick up to 30 new warriors, wolves that have been training, and the youngest always starts. Y/N never really chooses, asks for the ones who were unwanted such as the old or disabled. This time, she picks the strongest seven players among the warriors, and the other Alphas aren’t too happy, but she chose them for other reasons…. Hopefully, they’ll help her with the predicament she’s found herself in….

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Assault, Depression, Anxiety; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution <3

Word Count: 1,387

// Previous // Next //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 14! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love getting feedback! I hope you enjoyed it!!! ^_^

    “The traitors, huh?” I questioned, growling slightly.

    “You must know by now that we don’t mean to hurt you,” Sooki replied, moving her head to the side.

    “You shot at me,” I retorted.

    “Tranquilizers. Just to make sure you came without a fight,” She replied. “Now, get dressed. I’ll try to explain some things to you.”

    Sooki walked out of the room, making me squint my eyes. I quickly ate my breakfast, standing and getting dressed in the clothes they left me. Sooki had a scent similar to an Alpha wolf, which was odd. An Alpha leading a group of humans and wolves and God knows what else?

    I walked out to see her waiting, along with a couple guards. Sooki nodded at me, turning on her heel and walking down the hall. Walking through the building, it was very large and luxurious. Much more fancy than my own home, even our council building wasn’t this magnificent. They had a countless number of rooms in this large building, even more buildings surrounding it, which seemed to be apartments for the people here.

    There were gardens and courtyards that took my breath away, flowers blooming with scents that I didn’t recognize. The entire time, the guards followed us, but everyone seemed so… friendly…. They’d wave at Sooki, even at me. Kids that were wolves, humans, and the hybrids like Annabelle would stare at me with such hope, it was a bit intoxicating.

    “This is where we call home,” Sooki said, walking into a meeting room, sitting at the head and smiling.

    “It’s beautiful,” I replied, looking out the window to the beach. “but you must understand my caution.”

    “Of course,” She replied, making me eye her. I sat next to her, leaning forward and placing my clasped hands on the table. “After all, you’ve been taught that we’re the traitors.”

    “You left the community,” I replied. “You betrayed us.”

    “Well, you haven’t ran away just yet,” She said with a smile, leaning back. “Seems we’re pretty similar.”

    “Call it curious,” I replied. “Why did you want me?”

    “You’re our future,” She said. “You’re the first wolf to become an Alpha that was bred by two Omegas. Your pack wanted a change, just like we do.”

    “Alright,” I said, furrowing my brow.

    “Most of the wolves here were tired of the rules, the control. Most of the female Alphas here were sick of being forced to marry someone else. The Betas and Omegas becoming tired of being looked down on. Everyone here wants to be able to live their lives,” Sooki said, nodding her head. “Some of the wolves here met some humans in the woods, started seeing them often, fell in love. They wanted to be together which is looked down on in the community.”

    “Explains the hybrids,” I replied.

    “Exactly,” She said, smiling. “Unfortunately, everyone with wolf ears and tails won’t be accepted in either life, humans or wolves, so we’re all they have.”

    “You still haven’t explained why I’m here,” I said, firmly.

    “We want your help,” Sooki replied, becoming all too serious. “We want to take down the communities, save your pack.”

    Save my pack… just what I wanted. Then, thoughts ran through my head of the seven I’ve come to love. I shot up, wide eyed and gripping the table. They had been taken. It’s been almost 24 hours, who knows the torture they’re going through, but… Jungkook.

    As if on cue, there were a couple of screams in another building. Sooki stood up in concern, until we both heard a loud roar coming from a wolf. We both sprinted out the door, running out of the building and through the courtyards. When we reached the furthest one, on the edge of this small village, there was a crowd. The light brown wolf with blue green eyes had made its way out of the building and was growling at the men with long sticks that seemed to be electrified. I ran at him, squeezing between two men and putting my hands up, eyes wide with worry as I watched his teeth go away, a curious, pained look on his face. His large form slowly shifted back into a human.

    He was in similar silk pajamas to the ones I woke up in. He seemed like the man I knew, but his eyes were different. They were panicked, painful. Lost…. I gulped as I put my hands down, his form coming towards me. I placed my hand on his cheek as he looked at me, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms gently around my torso, face hiding in my shoulder as he began to weep. He was trembling and my own heart started to burst.

    I looked behind my shoulder at Sooki, who gave me eyes of sorrow. She felt bad for us…. After me not trusting her and Jungkook possibly injuring her people, she still felt sorry for us….

    Sooki, Jungkook, and I sat in the meeting room together, Jungkook refusing to let go of my hand. He’s calmed down since then, his face puffy from crying. I caught him up to speed, and both of us had the same feelings. We wanted the boys back. I’ve only known them for a short time, Jungkook knew them for so much longer. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head.

    “Where’s Harou?” I asked, the little girl flashing through my mind.

    “She’s with her mother,” Sooki said with a soft smile. “Another wolf managed to snatch her up and bring her here. They’re both safe.”

    “We need to go back to the community,” Jungkook said, staring at her with hard eyes.

    “That’ll be tricky…. We can’t just yet,” Sooki replied.

    “Bullshit!” Jungkook said, slamming his free hand on the large table. “My friends are getting tortured in a dungeon! We have to go back!”

    “How do you know they’re not already dead?” Sooki asked, moving her head to the side. Jungkook and I paled slightly, thinking about it.

    “No, we’d feel it,” I replied, looking at her. “We’re all…”

    “Mates?” Sooki finished, raising an eyebrow. “Trust me, we already know. We’ve been interested in you for a while.”

    “Then you have to understand,” Jungkook begged. “We can’t just leave them there….”

    “You’re right,” A new voice said, walking in. He was a tall man, slightly built with black hair and eyes just as dark. He had that strange scent on him, making Jungkook and I scrunch up our noses.

    “Jungkook, Y/n. This is our head alchemist, Dexter,” Sooki said.

    “Call me Dex,” He said with a smirk.

    “Alchemist?” I questioned, staring at him.

    “We’re humans that use the world around us as a sort of magic,” Dex replied. “Didn’t you wonder how you got to the other side of the world so fast?”

    “What?” Jungkook asked, looking at Sooki.

    “Alchemists can rip a hole in time, creating a sort of portal from one place to another,” Sooki replied. “They’re how we get around so fast.”

    “Incredible,” I replied, still looking at Dex as Jungkook growled and crossed his arms.

    “It’s not that cool,” He said, jealousy on his face.

    “Calm down, Beta,” Dex said, smirking. “I’m just here to help.”

    “We’re not going again,” Sooki warned him. “They’ll already be expecting us to get the other six.”

    “Even more of a reason to go,” He said. “They’ll be ready, we can take down more wolves.”

    “Woah, I want this to be stealthy,” I replied. “Avoid a fight. I’m sure you lost as many warriors as we did, this will hurt your pack.”

    “So what do you suggest?” Sooki asked, eyes sparkling with pride.

    “Take a few people, just enough to help get people away. We can have some look outs, some of us can sneak into the dungeons and go looking for the boys,” I said, looking at Sooki. “I’m sorry. I have to go tonight. They’d don’t deserve this….”

    There was a pause in the room, Jungkook nodding in agreement. Sooki looked at Dex curiously, who shrugged his shoulders. After a few more minutes of silence, Sooki nodded her head, making me bite my lip.

    “Alright. I’ll gather some people. If they are in the dungeons, they’ll be weak, seriously injured…” She said, nodding. “We leave at sunset.”

#bts #bts reactions #bangtan boys #bangtan boys reactions #bts imagines #bts werewolf au #bts werewolf #poly bts #poly bts ot7 #poly ot7 #seokjin #jin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #namjoon #rm #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook #kookie #shadows & wolfsbane

[disastaur]

Soulflower AU ft. MXTX Novels

So I said that I would post a meta on my flower growth AU, so here it is. If you want to read the WangXian story I have on ao3, here it is. Enjoy my ramblings on slow burn angsty wangxian with fluff at the end and some dramatic retelling of ancient Chinese poetry that i read.

Kinda like a reverse Hanahaki AU?

Soulmates tho. Always soulmates.

Cultivators, when they finally achieve the stage where they get their golden core, have flowers bloom around them. Idk how it happens yet, but like *wavy hands* spiritual energy and magic reacts with nature and flowers bloom where they walk. Their soulmates have the same flower, so they’re tied together in love and beauty

Flowers bloom based on the environment, so they usually don’t bloom when you walk inside (unless the building has a dirt floor or cracks between the floorboards) and germination time is based on time. Ex: WangXian’s orange tree takes a long time to bloom, and they barely even bloom in Gusu

If a cultivator doesn’t stay in one place for long, flowers eventually wilt and disappear

When soulmates are together, their flowers bloom more quickly/have greater quantity/look prettier. They can also bloom in areas where they shouldn’t ex. WangXian orange trees blooming in Gusu when they’re together

Because it’s a soulmate AU, people don’t really go out on entire journeys to find their fated other; it usually just happens as they go through life

Soulmates don’t mean romantic love. You can have platonic love, so don’t worry! Asexual cultivators are good here too

Flowers usually have meaning, and there are uses behind them. Stigma behind poisonous flowers/flowers with sad meanings ex. wolfsbane or white lilies (funeral flowers)

Flowers can have uses i.e. the cultivator with chamomile makes tea and such

Gusu has like an extra 100 rules about soulflower regulation

Some cultivators, even after cultivating their spiritual energy, don’t have flowers ex. Jin Guangshan doesn’t have any, so that’s why he has an excuse to have so many extra consorts

You don’t have to be romantically involved with someone who has the same flower, but those relationships are often looked down upon. Ex: Jiang Fengmian and Cangse Sanren

Not yet proven if soulflowers are predetermined from birth or change based on life events leading up to cultivation of golden core

Usually 1 type of flower per cultivator, but flowers can change! If there’s a traumatic or life-changing event, flowers can either suddenly change or even stop growing around a cultivator

Flowers also don’t have to be too realistic. You can have, like... a black peony. Weird? Yes. Eye-catching and unique? Yep.

Like... flowers grow normally too. From seeds. Normal people can just grow flowers from seed.

Are you a secret cultivator!? No, I just like growing daisies.

IMPORTANT: If you don’t have a golden core, then you can’t produce flowers. This is especially significant with Jiang Cheng

Leads to trouble in arranged marriages. Risk forcing non-soulmates together in exchange for having them learn cultivation or nah?

Soulmates are usually just a pair, but there are some poly soulmates where all of them have the same flower (or one of them doesn’t have a flower)

Flower contests!? Flower contests :D

Soulflowers lead to more stigmas. Ex: brothels ensure that none of the women have learned cultivation and therefore don’t have flowers so their customers don’t have to worry about being reminded of responsibilities 

Trans characters might have several flowers shifts based on their journey to finding themselves and their own happiness in their own bodies

Flowers are based on golden cores, but are innately tied to souls (ex. why Wei Wuxian had the same flower when he was transmigrated into Mo Xuanyu’s body)

Imagine… Battlefields… Covered in blood and bodies and FLOWERS

Jiang Fengmian’s and Madam Yu’s bodies left behind at Lotus Pier lying in a pool of their own blood, watering the spring crocuses that managed to bloom before they breathed their last…

Yeah there’s romance but the ANGST!? Good stuff there.

Flowers blooming don’t have a active push on the cultivator’s spiritual energy, but they tend to bloom less if you’re running low

Also tend to bloom erratically based on emotion. Wilt easily when depressed, grow wildly when drunk, etc. 

SPIES!? Ohohoho, spies can’t have flowers even though they might be cultivators. Puts an entire limit on job offers there

Talismans have been made that can be taped to shoes to stop growth, so I guess you can do that. I headcanon it puts a strain on one’s well-being and emotional health tho because their spiritual energy is like FLOWER and NO FLOWER at the same time

I guess it’s not always flowers? You can have trees or bushes, but those are more uncommon. RIP to the cultivators with poison ivy. Imagine having to sleep outside and waking up to it growing in your face.

Commoners chasing cultivators out of their front yards because their flowers are messing up their carrots

WAIT LMAO SCUM VILLAIN CULTIVATORS WITH APHRODISIAC FLOWERS. RIP

wait, what if it’s shang qinghua and he’s always like “i regret my life decisions. like, all the time. cucumber bro halp”

RIP CULTIVATORS WITH POLLEN ALLERGIES LMAO

Of course, this doesn’t just apply to MDZS or just mxtx novels. I’m planning on posting another meta that can transplant (heh) it into any universe. If you want to use this idea for any of your stories, then please credit me! Anyways, that’s enough of my ramblings for now. I might’ve repeated ideas or misspelled things or gotten stuff wrong, idk. Will probably add more ideas too that I haven’t thought of. If you have any questions/comments, reply here to give me a poke in my ask box! Have a great day and wash your hands!

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #mdzs #scum villain self saving system #svsss #heaven official's blessing #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #fanfiction #soulmate au