#it sounds destructive and has a lot of angst but yeah I need it lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

#bnha 326 #all might #yagi toshinori #stain (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

263 notes · View notes

thecreelhouse · 3 years

Text

like vines, we intertwined

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader (up to interpretation of platonic or more)

Summary: It started with an exchange of friendship bracelets, meant to last as long as the bond between you two: forever. Life has a finicky way of defining “forever”, though. (AKA: the hurt/comfort friendship bracelet fic nobody asked for)

Read on AO3

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: PTSD, swearing, mentions of violence/blood/injuries, a whole fuck ton of angst and hurt— and fluff and comfort to balance it out.

A/N: hi! been a minute since I’ve posted something that isn’t nsfw lol, so I hope y’all enjoy! I really forgot how much I love writing hurt/comfort fics. shoutout to @stonersteve for helping me with the car breakdown scene!! title is from ‘we intertwined’ - the hush sound.

“We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news—“

Your head snaps up to the TV set; you had it on to some rerun of some sitcom as mindless background noise to paint your nails to.

The screen shows a fuzzy view of Starcourt, the new mall that had recently opened up and run small businesses out of Hawkins.

Only it wasn’t like the commercial they had been airing all summer; where a glowing, neon utopia once stood strong in those ads, was now a slow, crumbling fortress, with flames tearing through from the inside out.

Your eyes grow wide as your stomach drops at the sight. You set your nail polish down before shuffling over to the TV, fidgeting with the volume buttons to listen carefully while your eyes glue themselves to the screen. You drop to the ground in front of the news report, waiting for more.

“It is unclear as to what started the fire, but the damage already done is devastating enough,” a reporter claims as the camera zooms off of the destruction and onto their face. “Authorities are saying it could be anything from arson to accident, and they’re not leaving out the possibility of fireworks being the cause.”

Your breathing falls shallow at the sight of Starcourt in the background, recalling a similar shot for the commercial, mind buzzing as you recall a familiar face while they showcased Scoops Ahoy! within the ad. Absent-mindedly, you tug at the bracelet loosely hanging from your wrist while your mind clings onto that one person.

Steve.

Him in that tacky sailor’s uniform, hat and all, flashed back in your mind. You always laughed to yourself when you saw how visibly uncomfortable he was in a goofy hat that hid his best feature. Now, you feel sick, panicking while hoping he wasn’t working during this disaster.

It’s late. The mall’s been closed for a few hours now, so he should be safe, right?

The camera’s smooth panning across the scene unfolding shakes suddenly.

“Whoa- hey! What—“

“You can’t film here. This is an ongoing investigation, and you must vacate the premises immediately.”

“Excuse me? We’re just trying to report the n—“

Your gaze floats to the background, while out of focus and unsteady, you catch a glimpse of blue. You can’t make out who or what it is, but your gut feeling has the answer already, and it makes your head spin with nausea.

Panic shakes you back to reality, and you bolt through the house to find your wallet and keys before leaving your home and jumping in the car. Your nails are smudged at this point, but that doesn’t matter.

All that does matter as you pull out of the driveway, while your tires are squealing against the road, is Steve and his safety.

——

“What’s that?”

Working diligently with the embroidery floss taped onto the table, you don’t look up as you answer the boy that came up to you with curiosity.

“Friendship bracelet,” As soon as you reply, your tongue sticks back out slightly as you focus on your work.

“Who are you makin’ it for?”

“I’unno, whoever wants one, I guess.” Your small fingers move quickly with the string, braiding and knotting the colors in a specific pattern.

There’s a silence that follows, and you can see the boy rocking back and forth on his heels nervously. You stop to finally look up; a boy your age with brunette hair and wide, curious doe eyes watches you closely.

“Did- um- did anyone ask for that one yet?” He musters up the courage to ask.

You look down at the nearly finished bracelet before glancing back up at him, shaking your head slowly.

“All yours if you want it,” You answer, and a warm smile breaks on the boy’s face. “What’s your name?”

“Steve,” The boy answers as he slides into the bench across from you at the table. “What’s yours?”

You reply with your name as you continue tying off the last few repetitions of the bracelet. Steve repeats your name, making it known he wants to remember. You like the way your name sounds coming from him; makes you feel safe.

“All done!” You grin proudly before leaning over the table, grabbing Steve’s hand to pull it towards you.

Steve blushes a bit at the sudden contact, realizing he likes the way your hand feels in his, but is too young to recognize why it feels nice.

You tie the ends of the bracelet together, making sure it isn’t too tight, but hangs close enough that it can’t slip off. Steve watches in wonder at the tiny, powerful gesture. He admires the bracelet, smile growing brighter as he takes note of the colours.

“Hope it’s okay, they’re my favourite colours.” You admit shyly. “I can make you a different one if you wa—“

“No! No,” Steve exclaims as he holds his wrist to his face, studying the detail of the string wound in a pretty pattern. “I- I want to make you one… with my favourite colours… is that okay?”

Your cheeks flush up as you nod slowly. “Yeah!”

“I just- I need you to teach me first… please.” Steve asks shyly, and you smile, scooting off your bench to move next to him.

Your arms are touching, and you can feel the hairs on his arm stand on end, and you’re certain he notices the goosebumps across your skin.

It doesn’t take very long to teach Steve how to make a friendship bracelet. It doesn’t come without trial and error, though. He asks to take the string home, the colours he picked as his favourites, to work on it and bring it back finished the next day.

And so, he does.

Steve finds you first thing in the morning, before you’re told to sit in your assigned desks, and he ties the bracelet he made himself around your wrist, just like you did for him. Not too loose, not too tight.

You admire the colours, admire the quirks of some knots being a little messier than others, bringing the bracelet character. It’s more than one of a kind, it was made with his heart.

“Thank you, Steve,” You say softly, tugging on the bracelet. “We’re friends now, friends forever.”

“Will the bracelets last forever?” Steve asks, already knowing the logical answer.

You surprise him, however, with an answer more emotional than logical. “If we protect them, they will. As long as you have that on, you can always count on me, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes shine over with happiness; he’s never had a real friend before. Not yet. Here and there some kids liked him because he had the latest and coolest toys, or they were jealous of him. Not you, though. You didn’t care about all the silly talk that your classmates spread about. The friendship was pure, gravitational through a simple conversation about friendship bracelets.

Before the bell rings, he pulls you into a hug quickly. It’s tight, warm, secure. You hug him back, trying to match how he makes you feel.

“You can always count on me, too.”

———

It doesn’t take very long for the damage of Starcourt to fall into view. It makes your stomach drop, makes you nauseous at the thought of Steve’s safety being threatened.

What should’ve only taken a few minutes felt like hours, even while you were speeding, avoiding the streets busy with neighbors setting fireworks off on the asphalt. Your brain wouldn’t rest with the questions filled with dread; was he okay? Was Steve alright? What the fuck was going on?

… Were you even sure that was Steve that you assumed you saw on the news report? That blue blur could’ve been anyone, but your mind immediately jumped to Steve.

And while the questions felt the need to continue, why on earth were you worried? You couldn’t remember the last time you and Steve talked, couldn’t remember the last time you truly called each other best friend.

Steve fell into a crowd of people that were only his friends for superficial reasons. He fell off your grid pretty fast when he was busy stealing alcohol from his parents’ liquor cabinet, trying to entertain the most rotten of the Hawkins High, not limited to Carol and Tommy H., of course.

It didn’t take very long for Steve to stop responding to your waves in the halls, your attempts to keep up with his life. He stopped answering your calls, always letting it ring, or the few times his parents were actually home, his mother always said he was ‘out somewhere’.

Steve’s bracelet disappeared around the time he abandoned you, yet you kept yours on. You couldn’t understand why you still had yours on, but felt only guilt when you’d even think about cutting it off.

You see flames rising despite the multiple fire hoses attempting to tame the destruction, breaking you from your racing thoughts of the past.

The parking lot is sectioned off from the entrances, all far from the mall and emergency vehicles. A man dressed in military grade riot gear holds his hand out as he steps in front of your car. You stop, rolling the window down to speak to him, but not before you’re met with the overwhelming smell of smoke and melting man-made materials.

Your face scrunches up, eyes squinting for a moment. You can almost feel the heat from this far back, and it just makes you more nervous and sick.

“Sorry, you can’t be here. This is an ongoing investigation and the scene is potentially still dangerous.” The man’s voice is muffled behind his helmet, but you hear him clear enough.

“Wh- the people inside? Are they okay? Where are they? Where did they go?” You rush out, and the man sighs.

“Anyone who made it out is most likely home by now. They were all treated by first responders here, and none of them wanted to be taken to the hospital. That’s all I’m able to tell you right now.”

You nod silently as his words sink in, realizing the danger is much graver than you assumed. This…. this was bad.

You thank the guard as you reverse out of the lot, flooring it as soon as you hit the road, driving twice as fast with only Steve still on your mind.

——

Steve isn’t sure how he made it to his driveway safely, but he does.

He can’t remember the drive from the mall to his house. But he’s behind the wheel, and alone in the car, so he had to have driven himself. Black and blue, swollen-shut eye and all.

It’s a miracle he hadn’t passed out from the excruciating headache he earned and swerved off the road.

——

Among the chaos of emergency vehicles in the parking lot, Steve noticed his car sitting alone, further back in the middle of empty spaces. When he had the energy, he decided to humor himself, and check on the car to at least make sure it was alright, even if just from the outside, while his keys laid in the bunker, now blown to smithereens.

Steve circled the car while his hand dragged across the red paint. He glanced through the windows, not noticing any damage, thankfully. Yet, he still wondered how mad his father would be about having to get a new key.

Mindlessly, as Steve made his way to the driver side door, he tugged on the door handle, startled at how the door clicked open with ease.

As the door moved, his jaw fell open in disbelief. This whole time, he left his car unlocked.

It’s an accident that wouldn’t be such a huge deal, something to laugh off when everything inside is accounted for, but Steve slumped into the seat and sobbed. No warning, just tears finally breaking along the edge of his tired eyes.

Everything came to a head, churning anger and grief deep within Steve, and it only came out in unsteady sobs. He quickly closed the car door, hoping no one could hear him from here. Everyone else has their own demons to worry about. He can’t add to that. He can’t add to anyone else’s pain.

Steve cried while snot rolled down his face alongside his tears. The tears stung his wounds, but not as much as his own stupidity stung whatever was left of his ego.

Frantically, he searched for any tissues in the car, even napkins, anything to remove some of the mess from his face. As he opened the glove compartment, a shiny key fell onto the car floor.

It was a punch to the gut. The cherry on top of this incredibly fucked up evening. Not only did he forget to lock his car, he left his spare inside the goddamn car itself.

Steve wanted to laugh, wanted to shrug it off, but only more sobs racked through his body the further his thoughts snowballed.

He couldn’t keep everyone safe tonight. He couldn’t keep his friends or himself out of trouble. And on top of it all, he couldn’t remember to lock his car?

Steve grabbed the key off the floor and started the car, realizing he couldn’t burden anyone tonight. Everyone else had someone to go home to, had someone to comfort each other with, but he was alone.

Voice shaky, he couldn’t help but wonder out loud, “Am I really that useless?”

———

Steve’s body doesn’t just ache, it burns. Everything hurts terribly, from the bruises already in full bloom across his torso, to the way his ears ring so loudly, he’s expecting blood to begin to pour out of them. Blinking hurts, breathing hurts, thinking hurts.

He wants to cry. He wants to sob, but he knows how bad it’ll hurt; that post-sob headache with a stuffed, sniffly nose and exhaustion wrapping around like a weighted blanket.

It’s late, and most of the neighborhood, despite celebrating, are inside and tucked into their beds, safe and sound. Steve wants that, more than anything. He wants so badly to run inside and collapse even onto the floor. He could worry about cleaning himself up tomorrow, with the house to himself. No nosy parents around to poke and prod with invasive questions.

Then again, even if his parents were home, he’s certain they would pay no mind to their son, collapsed on the floor, battered and bruised.

But he doesn’t move. Steve can’t bring himself to move. He can move, if he tries hard enough, but he’s just so drained. Resting his head against the steering wheel seems like the next best option.

Even resting his head softly, the contact stings. He hisses out at the pain, but it feels so good to not have to hold his head up on his own. That benefit sure outweighs the pain. Well, almost.

Steve’s fingers fidget and fumble around to whatever is near him, trying to take his mind off of the pain. At least, until he can muster up the strength to leave his car.

It’s only a few feet, and then the floor is all yours.

He picks at a hangnail on his thumb, blissfully ignorant to the pain as he tugs at the dead skin, for it doesn’t even compare to the heavy ache he feels everywhere else.

Stop, you haven’t picked your nails in years. Don’t go back to it.

Steve fights the urge as he pushes the annoying voice from his head, reminding him not to give in. Still, his fingers shake, desperately looking for something to tug at, just while he sits here uncomfortably. Anything to distract him.

For a moment, Steve is still, but then he digs in his pocket, frantically searching for something. His sudden movements earn a distressed groan from him, but he pushes past the pain and pulls out a bundle of threads, tied in a pattern, adorning a variety of colours. Your favourite colours.

It’s the friendship bracelet you made him all those years ago.

Steve holds the bracelet, broken and fraying at each end, up to his compromised eyesight. Tears threaten to fall again. He barely had time to cry during Starcourt’s demise, but ever since he got into his car after all was said and done, he couldn’t stop crying.

Now, as he remembers the dreadful night spent in the underground bunker, it finally hits him where it hurts the most.

——

Amidst being punched around like a dummy, the Russian guards searched nearly every inch of Steve, desperate for clues that would expose him for the spy they believed him to be.

“I told you, I- I got nothin—“

A sharp blow to his face stole away the rest of his sentence. Steve wheezed, gasping for the wind knocked out of him.

Taking no pity, one guard continued to search him. He noticed the bracelet, worn but showing signs of a once vibrant, bright life, and slid a switchblade underneath the embroidery thread.

Steve’s eyes grew wide as his heart dropped.

“No- no, wait—“

He tried tugging his wrist back, tried keeping the memento safe, but the blade sliced through it easily. As it fell to the floor, the other guard stomped on it before shoving it aside with his boot.

“Oh, that did something,” The guard’s voice was smug, noticing the tears that sprang to Steve’s eyes finally. “If you don’t speak, we will break you.”

Steve felt his breath fall shallow, panicking over a simple, handmade bracelet. It wasn’t just any bracelet, though. To him, that was the last connection he had to you, even if he royally fucked everything up.

Tears stung the split skin among his bruises as he continued to cry, falling apart at the thought of shoving you so far from him, and now…

Well, now, he’d never get the chance to fix things. Or try to, if you’d even let him.

Steve would die far underground before ever getting the chance to repair what he destroyed.

——

A car door slams loudly, and though it sounds distant to Steve as he pulls himself from the flashback, it echoes throughout the now empty streets of his neighborhood in Hawkins.

Frantic footsteps rush past his car, and he pulls his head up from the steering wheel. He watches a figure urgently skip up the stairs before banging loudly on the front door.

At first, Steve can’t make out who it is, and he wants to know, but he can’t bring himself to move. Not yet. Everything feels heavy and he doesn’t even feel like he’s in his own body.

Slamming their fists away against the door’s surface, the person finally yells out, “Harrington, I swear to god, if you don’t open this door I will gladly find the spare key! I’m sure it’s still where you left it years ago!”

Steve can’t help but laugh as he recognizes your voice along with your trademark, persistent attitude, and a smile cracks along his lips. It’s small, nearly nonexistent, but it’s there. He clutches the bracelet tightly between his sore fingers before taking a deep breath, and finally pushes himself out of the car.

He watches as you mutter to yourself, panicking and trying to come up with another plan to check up on him, when he finally clears his throat to catch your attention.

——

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?!”

Steve’s legs wobbled as they threatened to give out, but he held himself up to the wall quickly for support.

“I- I gotta find it—“

Steve turned a corner to find the room the guards first held him in, and clear as day, the bracelet laid waiting for Steve’s return on the cold floor.

Out of excitement, he tripped over his own feet, landing onto the floor and only adding to the pain he already felt across his body. But Steve ignored it as he reached out to the bracelet with grabby hands, and he sighed in relief.

“Dude, you’re seriously asking to get killed here, let’s go!” Dustin yelled, panicked and annoyed at Steve as he tried to tug him off of the floor. Steve struggled, but he finally got to his feet and followed as Dustin dragged him back down the hallway.

As Dustin and Erica drove Robin and Steve back to the elevator for their escape, Steve clutched onto the bracelet like a priceless prize. Even high out of his mind, giggling away with Robin about the dumbest shit, he knew what he had to do.

Steve was going to fight his way out of this to stay alive, and he’d make his way back to you. He vowed to himself, and to you silently, he’d make his way back to you as soon as everyone was safe.

He was going to fix this, once and for all.

——

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes lock with Steve’s. Granted, his gaze isn’t in great shape, with one eye nearly swollen shut, but you’re still holding each other’s gaze intensely.

Neither of you move or speak. A moment passes, but it feels like an hour, and then you take the first step.

You sprint to him, about to knock him over in a great, big hug like you used to, but Steve flinches, and your heart drops as you skid to a stop just feet away from him.

From further away, he looked like hell, but this close up, Steve looks like he died and barely came back.

“Fuck- sorry- right- what am I doing—“ You curse yourself for thinking you could just embrace him like everything was okay, when just looking at him hurts your heart.

Steve shakes his head before forcing himself to move, fighting against the intense aches and pains, wrapping his arms around you as best as he can.

You notice immediately his grip isn’t what it used to be, and you assume that has to do with the suffering he’s in right now. You want so badly to squeeze him back, envelope him in your embrace to signal he’s safe now. That whatever happened can’t hurt him now. Not here, not with you.

But you don’t. You hear him grunt in pain and remind yourself you have to be gentle with Steve. He’s always been fragile, deep down, but tonight, he’s shards of someone who doesn’t exist anymore, held together by the flimsiest tape found.

You’d get in the way of anyone or anything that tried to lay a hand on Steve ever again. Your heart aches heavily, wishing you could’ve been there to protect him from whatever nearly destroyed him.

“The spare key is definitely still in the same spot,” Steve manages to say, and you know his tone would be lighter, joking, if he wasn’t in so much agony.

“Knew it,” You reply with a sniffle, pulling back. You don’t let go of Steve completely, though, letting him lean onto you for better balance. “Let’s get you inside, okay?”

It takes a bit longer than expected, moving slowly alongside Steve as you hold him upright as you carefully shuffle with him into the house. Immediately, you notice the house’s interiors have changed, but Steve’s mom always liked changing things up, even for someone who was rarely home.

The loneliness that settles in as the house swallows you two whole, though, that’s painfully familiar. Your heart breaks at the thought of Steve coming home broken to nothing, to no one.

You get a better look at him as you flip on some lights, stomach sinking as your eyes travel over the bruising and swelling across his skin, splits and tears and marks that were unwelcome on his body. They travel down his neck, slipping under the fabric of his worn, blood stained work uniform. It’s almost a comical contrast, the dried bodily fluid splattered about a tacky sailor’s outfit, but you don’t laugh.

You don’t know exactly whatever caused this, but you assumed it had to be worse than the fights he got caught up in the previous two years before.

“M’so tired,” Steve whines, letting his head fall to your shoulder. “Just wanna sleep.”

“You should at least clean up—“

“No.”

“Steve, you’re covered in blood and god knows what else.”

“Just wanna lay down, s’too bright in here.”

You flip the switch off, gently lifting Steve’s head before guiding him towards the stairs.

“You’re going to at least let me nurse these awful injuries-“

“It’s fine, just a- a bad fight, that’s all—“

“Steve, I know you. This isn’t fine. Shut the fuck up and let someone take care of you.”

Steve’s mouth presses shut, remembering how hard you were to argue with, especially when you were right. You were always looking out for his best interest.

It’s just been so long since anyone has.

You send him upstairs to the bathroom, to which Steve takes his time climbing the stairs. Each step is harder to reach than the last, but he’s so close to his bed, some form of comfort, finally.

You scramble to find an ice pack in the kitchen, when your eyes catch on a picture frame, tucked away on a shelf in the next room over. It’s small, but even from here, you recognize what it is.

A moment in your younger years, frozen in time, arm in arm with Steve. You’re both covered head to toe in paint after he helped you paint the clubhouse your dad built for you in the backyard. The two of you are cheesing wide at the camera, and you can practically hear your childish laughs through your teeth. Back when the world belonged to you and Steve, and you two only.

You shake yourself from your thoughts to hurry back to Steve, ice pack in hand. You meet him in the bathroom, handing him the ice pack before getting to work on his wounds as he sits on the edge of the tub.

It’s silent for a moment, but you can’t ignore the questions swirling your brain any longer.

“What happened?”

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes as you press a cotton pad with rubbing alcohol to an open wound. Steve hisses at the sting, but only for a moment.

“Listen, you’re gonna have to start somewhere if we’re talking again.”

“Well, I’d like to keep you away from this mess as much as I can.”

You clean off the blood, caked onto his face, huffing in frustration.

“Why was Starcourt on fire?”

“Because a fire happened.”

Annoyance began to bubble within you.

“No shit, Harrington.” Steve fidgets with something wrapped around his fingers, and you glance down. Your heart leaps into your throat at the sight of familiar colours, your favourite colours. “You- you still have it?”

Steve’s gaze falls to your wrist, drinking in the bracelet he made you, in his favourite colours. The strings show signs of wear, hanging loosely now, but still intact, at least.

Tears threaten to spill again.

“I- uh- I didn’t think you’d still have yours,” He admits softly, and you nod.

“Never took it off.” You push his hair out of his face, matted down with dried sweat and blood. “Guess you did. I figured you did.”

“No, I—“

“It’s okay, Steve. Really. I’m shocked you have it at all.”

His heart sinks at your words. You had figured he gave up completely on you, and he knew it. Still, it didn’t make this hurt any less.

“Wait- listen-“ Steve reaches up to your wrist, grasping it gently. You freeze at the sudden contact. “I- I kept mine on.”

You eye him, suspicious. “So, how’d it fall off?”

“It’s- I can’t tell you—“ You sigh, annoyed, but Steve shakes his head frantically. “It’s not like that. I have to keep you safe.”

You shove your hand away from his as you sit back onto the closed toilet lid, staring at him in disbelief.

“Safe? Steve, safe went out the fucking window as soon as I asked the goddamn feds what was going on and was told I had to leave.” Your voice was stern, but shaking. Tears slipped from Steve’s eyes, but he kept himself calm, letting you speak. “I thought I lost you forever, and you have the nerve to still try and keep me in the dark? When I said you could count on me, I meant it. Always. Even after we grew apart.”

Steve tries to speak, but his bottom lip quivers and his thoughts snowball once more. He hasn’t seen you in years, not this close, not face to face and so personally. Across your features lie worry and hurt, but your bright soul still shines through. You’re here, and he still can’t help but fuck things up instead of trying to fix it all.

“I- I- I-“ Steve can’t get it out, he’s not sure where to start. Does he apologize for abandoning you? Or for the way he traded in everything pure in his life for some shoddy illusion of popularity? Maybe he should mention to you that the fall from grace nearly broke him, but would that help anything now?

Steve tugs at the remnants of his bracelet nervously while his breath quickens, grasping desperately for the words he needs to say to you, but they all slip away too fast. His eyes squeeze shut as his vision tunnels in.

That’s when you realize: he’s hyperventilating. He’s having a panic attack.

“Steve, hey,” You gently call out to him, softly reaching out for his hand. “Is this okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push himself away, so you grasp both his hands in your own. You run your thumbs along his skin in circles, hoping the movement soothes him.

“You’re okay, Steve. You’re safe. Whatever was after you is gone now.” You try reassuring him, but he shakes his head, and that’s when the sobs escape him.

“I- I-“

You gently shush him, “It’s okay, just take a moment to breathe. Breathe with me, can you do that?”

Steve tries following your steady breathing pattern, but he hiccups another set of sobs out, panic pulling him back down.

You sink to the floor, gently pulling Steve down next to you before cradling him in your arms. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Steve buries his face into your shoulder, gripping onto you for dear life.

“It’s not- it’s—“ He sobs again, pulling you close to him.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it now.” Your heart sinks at the way he cries out, unsure of what to do from here.

You think back to the photo you saw downstairs.

“Steve, I… I saw that picture of us, in your living room.” You whisper softly as you rub circles on his back. “I didn’t think you still had it.”

Steve can only nod, too exhausted and scatterbrained to find the words to properly respond.

“It’s one of my favourite memories of us,” You admit, taking note of the way the sobs had begun to settle slowly. Every now and then, one escapes him, but his body continues to relax in your arms.

“M- mine too.” Steve’s voice shakes as he tries to settle down.

“You don’t have to tell me everything right now. I… I’ll need to know things eventually, but—“

“I almost died.”

The wind is knocked from your lungs.

“I- I-“ Steve’s trying his best not to start crying again, not as hard as he just was, at least. “It- you- I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d lose you.”

Though you keep silent, your heart continued to ache at the way he spoke of your importance to him.

“I did lose you. I pushed you a- away. I left you behind and-“ A sob racks through his body, and you squeeze him gently to remind him he’s not alone. “We- we almost died. Me and Robin. Erica and Dustin were with us, too, but… they were safe at least. Th- the Russians didn’t hurt them, thankfully—“

You pull back to look at Steve, “Russians? Steve, is- are you-“ Your words die in your throat as you try to figure out just what you were trying to ask.

“Starcourt was j- just a cover-up.” Steve hiccups, clamping his eyes shut to try and hold his tears back. “It was all this- this huge cover-up, and we found out, and they almost killed us for it, and if it wasn’t bad enough, this giant fucking …. monster…”

His eyes open and he trails off as he watches your face cautiously.

“... I sound fucking insane, don’t I?”

You shrug, “I mean… yeah, a little, but … I believe you. Whatever happened, I believe you, Steve.”

He wants to explain everything to you. Tell you all about the last three years, how the Upside Down quite honestly flipped his entire life upside-down. How he quickly realized how fragile and temporary everything is in life, and that he can’t even attempt to sleep without checking that the nail-ridden bat is still under his bed, just in case.

Steve owes you an explanation of everything, he knows that. Keeping you hidden from the truth won’t keep you safe. It’s just now, after crying again, he’s ready to pass out for the night, and this will all take quite some time to fill you in on.

As if reading his mind, you speak up, “You’re tired, let’s get you to bed, okay? If you’re still sore tomorrow, I can wash your hair over the tub.”

Steve feels something lighten the heaviness he had been carrying around for so long on his shoulders. The weight of his world lessens just a bit.

“You- you’re- you’ll stay?”

You push to your feet, pulling Steve up with you and holding him steady.

“What did I say when we became friends?” You remind him as you lead him into his room.

Steve sniffles, still trying to shake the sadness clutching onto him so tightly. It won’t leave, not anytime soon. You’re prepared for that, though. You’re ready to pick things up where they were left off, fully aware it would take a lot of work to rebuild the bridge Steve burned years ago.

He won’t have to rebuild it alone, at least.

Steve climbs under the covers, rolling over to the far side to make room for you, and you join him. Limbs aching, he still wraps himself around you, afraid to let go, to lose you again.

“That I could count on you.” Steve finally answers, his voice soft but raspy from crying. “And that you could count on me.”

You nod, wrapping yourself around him in return, afraid to let go, afraid he’ll slip from your grasp again. Not from his own doing, but from whatever demons hold him down.

“I… don’t know what your monsters are like, but I’m going to be here for you, every step of the way. You’re not getting rid of me easy this time, Harrington.”

A glimpse of a smile plays up along Steve’s lips, making your stomach flutter. Finally a good sign. A sign of hope.

“I’m super gluing myself to you,” Steve murmurs, eyes drooping with the need for sleep. “You’ll never lose me, never again.”

As his eyes flutter shut, your eyes fall on the broken bracelet, still wound between his fingers.

“Steve?”

He shifts closer to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Mhm?”

Your eyes trail over his face, still damaged, still in pain, but finally relaxed. You expect he won’t sleep a full night, and if he does, it won’t be without nightmares of whatever tortured him, but for now…. he’s at ease, and you’re right there alongside him.

“I’ll make you a new bracelet tomorrow, too.”

The only response are the soft snores from Steve, reassuring you that he’s safe. He’s okay, even for a moment.

You’re both safe, and in time, you both will be okay.

———

Taglist: @harringtown @stevesnailbat @stonersteve @ilovebucketbarnes @stranger-noah @cececroft <3

Join a taglist here!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #like vines we intertwined #my fics

113 notes · View notes

liyuesbian · 3 years

Note

AAAA kokomi quest time :>

same here I thought it was a pretty solid quest overall!! agree that the first half was kinda eh because she just felt too Nice about everything, a little too willing to help people instead of saying "i have some stuff to prepare and am not available rn" (when the Watatsumi citizens were crowding around Traveler and her, I had flashbacks to Barbara's hangout event rip). but the second half got better thankfully. I think even though there's no morally gray kokomi, they still gave her character some flair that's different from before? like you said, the thing where she's forced by heritage to be the divine priestess but doesn't actually want to; i quite liked that, since although she's emotionally drained from her job, she's not like Jean or other characters that sacrifice themselves because they truly like their job and want to help people in that way. kokomi helps people out of obligation and would much rather be doing military strategizing and i love that for her. I want her to be a bit more selfish too, even if it's not in a villainous kind of way; perhaps a scenario where she pulls a xingqiu and just becomes a military strategist/general instead of the job she inherited (actually her and xq would be really interesting together, even if xingqiu doesn't reveal that he's the legend of sword author lol). somehow she gives me only child vibes hahsdjfs

agree!! when she said "it would be so nice if all my work could do itself" I Felt that :') her moments of childishness are very endearing 😌

YEAH the war was finally addressed in some capacity and the Not All Is Well mood, especially the mixed opinions in Watatsumi among both civilians and the soldiers. also agree that the npc opinions were very good and it's nice that some of them are dissatisfied for different reasons, like that old woman you mentioned talking about Watatsumi's god vs the soldier's grievances against the Tenryou Commission! It's not just quietly resolved and that's way better than how the ei quest went hsdfjs. I also loved kokomi's and sara's scene hsdjfsd I was surprised but thankful they actually showed them negotiating the treaty terms instead of just doing a cutscene and illustrating that kokomi (and sara) are good diplomats and know their stuff. they need to put their brains on display more. the quest is also warming me up to kokosara lol

it's fine villain kokomi lives on in our hearts (or in aus lmao)

also expand on kokomi and hu tao? o-o they sound interesting

-mystic

OH YEAH i forgot about barbara's hangout event !

mhm my thoughts exactly. omg i never thought about that.. her and xingqiu would make such great friends! the indirect interaction through his book ties everything together well too :O i'm thinking the whole author-book lover dynamic ajiodfsfiadjn kokomi gushing over her favourite author, [xingqiu's pseudonym]. OR maybe a modern au where kkm is xq's editor?! OR her as a super fan and beta reader?! honestly, kkm and xq are one of my favourite characters so far and it'd rly make me happy to see them interacting 😭 OH did u happen to see this fanart of the hydro gang in a book club? (while i was trying to find the link to the post, i also found this gem! AHHH they're both so cute!)

they rly are!

yep yep haha O I FORGOT 2 TALK ABT THAT KOKOSARA MOMENT !!! i agree, that scene showed us all that kkm is very much capable in doing her job despite it not being her first choice in career.

yes (!!! hmm this is giving me ideas for kokosara angst hc.. after the negotiations are over and peace has somewhat returned between both sides, kkm stabs them in the back, sara hurt by the betrayal and kkm seemingly cold-hearted and stern-faced, unaffected by the situation saying it was all necessary as the divine priestess, the current heiress of sanganomiya, to carry out the will of her ancestors and to sustain the protection of her people in watatsumi but deep down she knows she doesn't want to do this (the same canon wanting to stray away from her lineage). either way, it is too late now. the destruction of the shogun's govt and her vision of eternity was always meant to happen in due time.)

as for kokotao, i think what initially attracted me to their ship is similar to what first drew me to kokosara...

right off the bat, their clashing visuals/aesthetics HAHAHA

hu tao would totally be down to read kkm books as she falls asleep, kkm would do the same too! (if she can get ht to sleep that is lol)

their clashing personalities and way of thinking, ht's chaotic mindset and kkm's well-planned and tactician-like abilities... even their food preferences differ too! (god, reading their voice lines for kkm's least/ht's fave food srsly makes me think they were made for each other)

i think in a modern au (and in genshin too i guess), they'd be great "business" partners. as in, they kind of make up for what the other lacks (in both a domestic and working way) - kkm's strategic skills could be used to bring more customers in for hu tao and hu tao would be able to deal with the social side of kkm's job (just thinking about it makes me swoon, they'd be so in love)

let's be real here, i think kkm would be p easy to tease and ht would have tons of fun pranking her and telling her jokes etc.

in a gameplay perspective, ht loses hp and kkm is a healer !! (aww only true gfs fight alongside each other)

in the same way hydro puts out pyro, kkm can reign ht in when it get's a little too much (but not in a way where she's stopping ht from being who she is if ygm) and vice versa for ht being able to "give" kkm a bit of her own energy

I THINK THEY'D MAKE A FORMIDABLE DUO WHEN PLAYING FPS GAMES (AND LASER TAG/PAINTBALL TOO)

there's probably a lot more but those are my reasons for now haha

#oh no this was kinda long...#AIUSASAJSC why does it #look like i RAMBLED about kokotao :OOO #anyways.........#phi rambles #answered

6 notes · View notes

lixiefe · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Curse

Magical!hyunjin x Cursed!reader

⎆ Words: approximately 9k

⎆ Disclaimer: This is set in the late 1800's timeline. Or anytime near that. More precisely, the time phase Little Women was based on. And I’m really hoping I can convey the vibes. I’ve taken a bit help from the internet, so yeah, I’m sort of also crediting pinterest. (But i posted the excerpt I used, so meh)

⎆ Summery: This can be read without the back story, but to understand the story better, I recommend reading it. The summery is written after the backstory. Prologue

⎆ Type and Warning: Lots of fluff and then angst at the end. Partly a soulmate au. Comedy (a lil?). Hyunjin is pretty flirty. As for warning, molestation (just a hint, hyunjin saves you), death, war-bombing. But overall, I don’t think this needs warning.

⎆ Also: I’ve done a bunch of researches, but if there’s anything wrong, please forgive me. I’ve spent a lot of time on this lol. I have high expectations for this lol2

Sequel: Beyond The Promise

Hwang Hyunjin

A humongous blaze of fire erupted amidst, camouflaging the entirety of the wooden platform. Scorching swashes of fiery heat engulfed the winter air with a myriad of grouse merging with a few expressions of lament. A brigade of pompous nobility joined the panicked servants with buckets of water, all efforts resulting in vain into extinguishing a fire that had already burned and catapulted the wooden platform into blisters of coal.

The people let out yet another shriek but the fire only burned. It seared and ravished what remained of the commemorative settlement like hearth consuming logs and paper. Another phase of utter panic washed through the hefty crowd as a few people approached the setting with angry words and furious roars.

They pushed through the cumbersome batch of servants, a string of heavy curses inciting as they took upon the blazing fire. They could but remain calm, especially when the mayor was fuming with anger. Because damnest to his legitimate child, the whole of his two days preparation for his rather magniloquent speech was burned into ashes of blackened woods. And he knew who did it and why.

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

It seemed rather sadistic, but Hwang Hyunjin had bigger achievements than something as puny as a mysterious fire that can’t even be called arson. The fire that burned in his chest and consumed the heckity of his inner peace scalded more than what a platform fire could even begin to. As his father hollered in utter aggregation, Hyunjin let out a satisfied laugh at the far corner. Laughing at both his father and his foolish remnants of pretentious reputation.

Hyunjin always believed it was too easy for his father to be shucking people here and there and manufacturing money out of illicit ways. It was unfair. And Hyunjin only hooted at his father’s demise. A little of the ‘unfair’ earned back through his defiant instincts.

This- he knew was the last straw. Now all he had to do was obscure himself from his family and have his way through his post-criminal days. Because that’s what his routine was.

“Have fun, father.”

You

Speed and stealth.

Go slowly, you can do it. it’ll be fine.

“Holy shiznit!”

A tardy presentiment wasn’t really what you needed at all, especially when you had already dropped the piece of fine melanin from your calloused hands and succeeded into attracting much more negative attention than you’d needed for the day.

“She dropped it again!”

Came the annoying voice of the Mr. Bard’s young son, who’d never missed on a single opportunity of causing you an immediate downfall. You’d have snickered at him and told him he was no fawning better than a wobbly weasel, but you knew ten folds better. With the child roamed his mother, who was no better.

“How scandalous! How can you be a woman?” The house keeper’s wife screeched, her nagging voice shivering you to the spine.

You stilled in your position, half bent towards the broken plate and doing your damnedest to contain yourself from running away. The vexatious woman rushed to you in saccharine astonishment, gasping through her hand that covered her brightly colored lips and eyeing you with unfiltered disgust.

As if she was any useful.

You knew what was to come, it’d happened too many times to count. Even so, you’d never shattered an expensive utility before and the remorse was only for the broken pieces of melanin that laid upon the fallow timber. You were less than appropriate for household chores and no one knew it better than the spawn of devil and Mrs. Wife ( You called her that since she took too much pride in being Mr. Bard’s wife ), but they’d loved to torment people and there was no way out of it. At least not for you.

“How are you a growing woman if you cannot carry a few plates altogether? Preposterous!”

And soon after, the people of the whole shelter gathered in one huge horde of fussing women and tutting children.

With that started real chaos, and chaos integrated gradual commotion. Mrs. Wife could be anything but peace-loving and of course involved into an uncanny obsession with melodrama. Drama she needed to cause herself.

And how you were her favorite victim!

It was nothing but absolute rotten luck. You had screwed up in the broad daylight of working hours when the men were out to doing whichever occupation they’d acquired. And whom was left were the troublesome bunch of insolent children and their alike mothers. The elder men of the settlement were wise and rational, people who totally would not cause unnecessary clout for a single piece of guest-plate. And that’s exactly what she’d missed.

“Hurry! What shall we do! We all know how scarce these are and this little girl so crassly broke them.” Mrs. Wife spoke in entire abhorrence, jabbing her finger at your forearm with intended force. Some scrawny children took upon more stress than their age onto it, on the way of demonstrating the importance of financial parsimony to you, someone who’d lived older than their twice life. Some women also infuriated to an unexpected extent, demanding whichever way of proper justice came into their minds. Which of included, ‘Fix the plate’ and ‘execute her!’, which made no sense to you at all.

However, you couldn’t but listen with pretentious guiltiness and cower in the barks of many voices.

“I demand she buys what she has ruined!”

That particular suggestion drew everyone like light in the water. Of course, it was quite understandable to suggest such in normal circumstances. But not now. Not when there was an ongoing war out in the roads. Even without actual battle taking place, the heat and grudge it stemmed was enough danger as it was. And having a young woman on the streets was fatal.

But that not once crossed their minds.

And that was now your fixated ultimatum, a penalty you’d not deserved. But right now, you had no choice. Protesting to them was out of question, even a little sigh of exhaustion was considered impudence and a certain labeling of ‘You trollop!’

You were afraid. There were quite a generous amount of tales going around of young teenagers being abducted and sold into slavery or simply imprisoned for whichever conditions they saw fit. It was terrifying.

Yet you congregated the most courage you could and stuffed your little purse inside your ruffled gown pocket and arranged your braid. You’d looked decent enough. But then again what would looking decent bring you? Instead maybe if you were covered in dirt and smelled like feces, people would leave you alone.

The streets looked horrific with gray tunes embellished everywhere you looked. The once lively town that embodied your sweet childhood was now devoid of any loud noise. People spoke in hushed whispers, looked with eyes that bore no soul, breathed through reddened nose and wore ashened, disheveled clothes. The terror, the impassive eyes and ghastly figures impaled you. Everything had turned into what you’d never have imagined in your early life.

You walked with unsure steps, eyes observing the cryptic exchanges and the limited rations in every shops. How you were supposed to find an expensive silver-wear in such a desolated environment was unknown to you. But you kept walking between the collapsed monoliths, gray at your feet, gray at every side. A carpet of gray that promised nothing but yet another destruction.

“Hello there, little one.”

A tight, bruising and sturdy grip yanked you into a secluded pathway, your throat releasing a panicked shriek as your other hand clutched your hemmed gown. Despite your clamor of rescue, no living being batted an eye. Each ignored you like you were nothing; oblivious- more like scared to interfere. And as you were successfully dragged into an isolated clearing, you were met with more than three scathing men that surrounded you like wolfs.

The grip on your arm released with a stinging after-burn, but there was no way of escape. You were surrounded by the bulky men who stared at you like hungry predators, their stare so lecherous and vulgar that it made you horrified and struck with desperation; desperate to escape.

Your widened eyes matched your laborious breathing, little trickle of perspiration wetting your forehead. All of them looked so cynical, eyes flooded with ill intentions and smirk portraying however precarious desires they’d brewed.

You wanted to scream, you wanted beg to the almighty to let you go this once, to spare your life this once. But no one was there to hear you, no one except your captors. The closer they approached you, the more fright ran through your body.

“No one can hear you, little one.” Your captor said, an evil smile playing on his lips. And before you knew it, your hair was pulled behind with a harsh pull. By now, not thinking of the aftermath, you were screaming your lungs out, the sound muffled by the hand that clamped your face. Your heart frantic with pulsating beats and hands grasping for any form of liberal means.

In the blacks of near graveyard, you were the only erratic heart, skimped in the middle of heartless beings and on the verge of molestation. Darkness fell on the words spoken to nobody and screams heard by nobody. And you wished. Yearned for another beating heart, another blood and flesh, another conscience to walk upon you.

This was so bad. So so bad.

And it was as if your unspoken wish was granted, your prayers took in accountance and your desperation answered.

“What in bloody hell is going on?”

Hwang Hyunjin so much as hated violence, even more so if it was precarious things like ‘stolen from family’ or ‘taken for public ledging’. He wasn’t at all afraid of using actual words instead of euphemisms, but those precepts were made mandatory- so usual that he’d gotten used to it.

But it did not mean he was oblivious to them.

Especially not when it were to be happening right in front of his eyes. Not when he was dead-on witnessing a group of excrements laying their filthy hands upon someone innocent, in intentions he’d much rather not review.

“What in bloody hell is going on?”

The masculine man turned around, sinister eyes fuming at the intruder. “What are you doing here, boy?” he spoke with irritation rolling off every word as he released his tenacious grip on you and came closer to the intruder.

Hyunjin snickered, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he rolled up his sleeves. He eyed the repugnant man in sheer disgust. What obstinate stench and what pernicious stance, Hyunjin couldn’t but wonder how on earth you’d endured such disgust for what time you’d been in their hands.

What an indirect torture to primary senses!

“You all look like an insidious lot. You’re not government officials, are you?” Hyunjin mused, a quirky hint lacing his tone. If the rowdy men weren’t furious, they totally were now. Hyunjin should be scared, he should be petrified, but he knew so much well the men were going to underestimate his strength. Probably would cause their own downfall.

“You’re daring. I like that.” the man at front looked at him, impressed. He came closer, adapting a look as much menacing as he could. But Hyunjin really did care less. “Would you perhaps, join us?” he offered.

Hyunjin’s throat nauseated, repulsed at the ridiculous offer and the pungent man. Join them? Was he nuts on even rocks or black sand? Before he could share a piece of his mind, the man answered himself with a wicked smirk.

“We don’t share.”

Ludicrous. As if in hell I’d want to.

“But you’ve caught that right. We are no officials. We are fugitives.” The spiked man said from behind you. So criminals huh? Along with the distaste lingering in his mouth, Hyunjin could swear he visibly saw yellow and green radiations off of that man; it was so disgusting. The man behind you pulled at your hair even more, eliciting a pained cry from your lips as your eyes looked at him with desperation. “Now leave, kid.”

Hyunjin’s heart wrenched as silent tears poured out of your eyes and lips quivered in sheer fear. You were helpless, body shaking with the premonitions in your head, presentiments that could actually happen. But not when he was there. Looking at you maddened him even more. They’d abducted a fragile girl from the middle of the streets, no wonder how many other people they’d nicked or how many crimes they’d committed. It was inhumane.

“Well, I am lucky then.”

They’d really not known the infamous mayor’s son. A rebellious fellow who’d mastered sparring skills and cheap tricks all in one. Who’d repelled his father and succeeded in felonious little revolts. And they’d certainly not known or foreseen that they could be disgracefully defeated by burned ashes.

Cheap tricks were Hyunjin’s first and foremost specialty.

It took Hyunjin seconds to fill the air with ashes and simultaneously kick the men that were at the front with his sturdy boots. His first priority was saving you, but you were at the very back and shielded by two others who still hadn’t lost their hold on you. He threw even more ashes; specifically aiming for their eyes as multiples coughs broke through them in full swing, much to his pleasure.

He’d abruptly yanked you away from the weakened grip and motioned you to run in quick gestures. Hyunjin was almost flying through the smoky terrain, never losing balance, never stumbling. He landed a brutal punch at your direct captor, watching the man stumble back to the ground. He flung himself in a swift cart-wheel, feet trouncing two men at once as he injures their neck. He stood in firm steps, triumph and prepared for his last blow. He hurled the remained man hard on the rocky surface of broken pillars, a loud grunt leaving him.

Hyunjin could be sadistic, who knew? But he’d justify his actions as simply impulsive. Because there was no right or wrong, no justice and injustice and who was he to define such cruelty?

Except for maths. Yeah.

He walked over to the adjoined pathway which possibly lead to the town streets, he didn’t know. He clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust off the ash and oil from the fight. He could mourn over the dirt of his clothes later on, but his bigger concern was if he’d been contaminated with the gross stench of the men. He smelled and sniffed himself in frantic worry, finding only the dry smell of soil.

How abominable for him to ruin his clothes like that when he was searching for a hidden place to stay.

“Are you- are you okay?”

Hyunjin halted in alarm, head snapping back to look at the speaker. For an instance, he felt dumb to think that another assassin could’ve come for him, to lure him in their feminine charm and stab him with a large hairpin. Because that’s happened before, even though he was mildly asexual and openly insulted the woman for being an attention seeker.

His remaining wee asexuality flew away in the air as he took in your appearance.

You were a girl, that’s for sure, but an eye-catching one at that. It was to no wonder that some street-bandits would surely take an interest in you; and he was so glad that it was him who played the diaphanous hero and saved you from those disgusting monsters. His eyes were stuck; enamored by your striking orbs. Dried lips apart and seeking to mind for a cohesive reply but his voice enabled him no correspondence.

“Are you hurt? I am so sorry.” You spoke, jittery hands clasping together and lips seeking moisture from your tongue. You went closer to your rescuer, scanning him for any injuries.

Hyunjin was stilled, bewitched at your lovely figure that bore so much kindness. Your gentleness baffled him, it felt so pure and genuine that he’d almost forgotten how truly despotic the world was. You were so close to him, eyes sympathetic and skimming him for the absent injuries he’d gotten.

“No, I’m fine. Ha ha,” Hyunjin slipped away from you, hands in accordance with his awkward laugh. He dusted his ashened shirt with his similar hands, speckles of airy soil surrounding him. A series of light profanities left his mouth as he zoomed at the prominent tear down his shirt. Mind going full panic mode, “Oh my god! Those bleedin- heckin bandits!” He screamed, sentimental hands tracing the rip ever so gently, as if they were what held his last bits of sanity.

“My shirt!” He mourned, clutching onto the material with utmost caution. To you as well, this was over-sentimental. Who would grieve this much over a tear on their clothes? He looked so different than when you’d seen him flying through gray ashes.

But his sudden traumatic grief vanished away as he looked you in the eye, suddenly curious of what he had almost forgotten. “Why didn’t you run away?” he asked.

“Oh I, um, I was worried about you,” you answered. Sure, he was you savior, your prince in shining delight. As much as his princely looks told you he was angel’s guise, his appearance said otherwise. Hyunjin was so sure he’d looked dangerous enough to not receive such words.

“You were worried?” he laughed in amusement, lips spreading across his rosy cheeks into a beautiful grin. You thought this was some unnecessary handsomeness for his tough outlook, but you weren’t one to object. He was more beautiful than the prettiest flower, more enticing than the royalty suitors and of course more attractive than you could ever be.

What a model.

“Of course I was! You’ve saved me,” you said. Hyunjin looked at you with even more glee, his smile now a hubristic remnant of the striking laugh. Your head lent backards as Hyunjin came closer to you, noses just inches apart. Eye to eye, you shrunk under his playful gaze, yet refusing to break away.

“Just because I saved you, princess, doesn’t mean I’m safe as well.” He spoke in almost whisper, moving away to stand back. He still had the same challenging expression, as if daring you to oppose. In normal circumstances, you’d have done nothing. But something in his words was so provocative, that you couldn’t help but just dare. And he’d said princess, it was ticking.

“Well you’re not doing anything now. You seem opposite of your words.” You said, bold to your speech. Hyunjin lifted a brow, his little smirk growing at your hilarity. It was his first time hearing such response, but it was no one’s business if he said he’d like to hear more of you. But who was he to keep you?

“You’re very bold to say that, princess. I’ve ruined my clothes for you, and for that I am offended.” Hyunjin turned around in an attempt to leave, even though every cell in his body desired to see you a little more. He didn’t want any attachments in first meet. If you were to be in his life, fate would make sure of it, that he believed.

But it seemed fate was quick to catch on and almost too quick to grant his wishes as he felt a feeble tug at his dress sleeve. A sign so little and fleeting, yet not hesitant at all. He stopped, heart and blood anticipating what the next moment could transpire.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Hyunjin’s hopes dropped as quickly as your fingers fell from his sleeves. He couldn’t contain the disappointment that undoubtedly covered his heart, but he didn’t let it show. He was shameless to admit that he’d wanted you to ask him to stay, or say anything that could give him an opportunity to again look at your inviting orbs and get lost in your solemnity.

But what bad luck!

“Would you like me to fix your shirt for you?”

Or maybe not.

ii.

Your savior was surprised when you walked him to where you lived with a few other families, because it was one of his properties he had donated for combined charity in the flaming war. He’d contributed quite much of his fortunes to help the starving and sorrow-ridden people, which led him to having no home and using the remaining of his wealth to abide by.

You had revealed that you lived with your father, who pampered you and loved you so much that he was all you had to talk about. Even so, who else could you talk about? You’d also told him that you had an insatiable passion for art, the first thing you’d drawn being your father. Your father still had the sketch framed delicately in his personal room and you promised him that you’d let him see that.

Your savior was a rich lad, but you had yet to know that. You’d perceived that he was any other vagabond and virtuous being, who lived travelling by and had the proper guts to stand up to injustice. He told you a little about his hobbies when you were stitching up his dirt-stained shirt as slowly as a snail.

And yes, he was wearing another short-sleeved piece underneath.

You noticed he had little scars trailing up both his forearms, scars that reminded you of battle casualties. You’d also seen the end of a cut near his pronounced collarbones. You wanted to ask him the history behind the gruesome injuries but that seemed too much of an intrusion to his personal space- at least in first meet.

Hwang Hyunjin was his name, pretty to the ears and meaningful to his characteristics. His name matched him greatly. His princely looks and attractive hands; and the way he’d saved you like a princess, from flame-spitting dragons that constrained you in danger. He was in fact, a whole king. At least for you.

“Your clothes look dirty. Would you like to stay for a day? I could wash them for you.” You said, still guilty over the fact that he’d ruined his prized clothes to rescue you.

“But I don’t have any other clothes. I think I’d decline,” He looked at you with thankful eyes, a glimmer that spoke of apologies. You knew what it meant, yet you look at him with similar earnest, ransacking your brain for something- anything- you could say to stop him.

“I could provide you some! Please stay, it was my fault.” You speak in applied hassle, hands reaching for the hem of his shirt that you’d sewn for the past five hours, stopping him. You see Hyunjin ponder for a few seconds, feet prodding at the ground as he looks up.

You see the familiar curve of his lips appear again, forming into his trite smirk. He bends down to your face-level, eyes peering straight into yours and cheeks resembling the pink of yours.

“If you insist, princess.”

~.~

He’s come back again tomorrow. And the day after. And again the day after. He had visited you every day for two weeks, accompanying you into your stressful household chores and as you sat down on a broken pillar amidst the grassy yard for a breathe of respite. He has relentlessly stared at you with so much veneration, so much admiration and so much of the feeling only he knew.

How, he didn’t know. But you’ve captivated him into an endless trance. An endless delirium that started with your shimmering eyes and ended through the honey of your voice.

In the span of days, he has known pain, happiness and love. He has known how it stings when you accidentally cut yourself with a piece of glass, he has known how you gleam with felicity when you both gossip about Mrs. Wife, and he has known how it feels when you’re all he thinks about. He has experienced all through you, things he’s never felt and never known. The never-ending sweetness of your laughter, your electrifying touch, your twirling hair, you. That’s all he knows.

Some people used to describe him as promiscuous, or even a wandering wanton, but he knew for one that they described any attractive person like that. It wasn’t like he never went near beautiful women. He’d hung around his own fair share of women. But you, you felt so unique. You weren’t like any other he’d seen. Not the brothel girls, not the women that sought him like grilled meat and obviously not the ones that pretended to be prim and virtuous for his attention.

Hyunjin was flabbergasted when one day, he was summoned by your father, very discreetly. He was skeptical at first. Because why would your father need him for something that seemed so confidential? And that too, him of all people.

“Ah, Hyunjin. Here you are.” Your father greeted with a creasy smile. Hyunjin timidly smiled back, half of him still severely suspicious. He’d only seen your father in your very precise sketches, but never in real life. But truth be told, your sketches resembled your father in the most detailed way.

The office room was warm, like the side of a fresh-burning hearth. It exuded comfort, the air permeating a relaxing atmosphere around the scaling walls and back. Brown papers and envelops engaging one part of the room, the other filled with working equipment and an old sofa.

“Yes, sir.” He replied, still standing stiff before the work-table of your father. His eyes roamed around, your sketch still hanging on the wall like a prodigious artistry. He noticed two picture frames resting on the wooden table, both being yours. You had been so beautiful since birth, he thought.

“I have news on you.” Your father said, motioning Hyunjin to come closer. He obeyed, now standing right in front of your father. Hyunjin couldn’t decipher what news could be found about him, except if it were anything negative. He was suddenly apprehensive, dreading what he could be told. Your father grabs his right wrist, thumb ghosting over the end of his palm. “You seem very close to my daughter.” Your father says.

“Sir, forgive me for my insolence, but if you ask me leave her-”

“Of course not. I’ve never been happier. She’s been so bubbly, just so full of life. I believe it’s because of you.” There was such a soft hint in your father’s speech- vulnerable even, and flowing in adoration for you. Hyunjin realized no matter how gruff your father’s voice, his words were a complete contradict. He was ashamed to have thought he was summoned to be bribed to betray you, it was disgraceful.

“I’m- I’m sorry, sir. I misunderstood you.” Hyunjin bows politely. Your father immediately stands up, grasping Hyunjin by the shoulder. Your father offers him a reassuring smile.

By this time, Hyunjin had almost forgotten about the grip on his wrist. Your father brought his hand up to chest-level, applying acupuncture pressure. For the first few seconds, it doesn’t hurt, it feels nothing. But as the clock ticks by, Hyunjin feels a stinging pain in the middle of his wrist. He struggles to free himself away but your father presses tighter, deeper.

It hurts, it hurts like hell. Hyunjin feels like he could scream, he could madly bellow out to the almighty in anguish; because it was unbearable. The stinging pain is agonizing, much intense than anything he has ever felt. But his chest felt constrained, narrowing with every passing second, every squeeze of pressure.

He feels a pained cry rip through his chest and past his reddening lips. Eyes shut tightly, his wrist contracts in the tenacious hold, fingers twitching and wrist thrashing for freedom. It’s as if all the pain of his life has accumulated in one place, galloping into his veins like sheath needles on his skin.

But he doesn’t see how the veins of his wrist light up with a grandiose glow, ripples of blinding, magnificent white light emitting from in utter glory. He doesn’t see the smile, the breath of relief that your father gains.

Until suddenly, the pain vanishes with a mysterious extinction, like it wasn’t even there. And all that’s left is the pad of your fathers thumb on his wrist. As soon as your father liberates him, Hyunjin stumbles back, breathless. He looks at his wrist in surprise, because what the hell was that?

“I have finally found you, my son.” Your father smiles at him in relief. But Hyunjin is not in the rational state of thinking what the meaning was behind his mystic words. But he still questions, grasping the table corner with force, as if he’d fall down any time.

“Wh- what?”

“If I’m gone.., will you protect my daughter?”

It astonishes him. Hyunjin stealthily regains his labored breath, trying his best to maintain the composure of his unstable feet. He only stares for a few, as if trying to articulate if this was actually real. If he really was confronted by your father, if he really felt the piercing pain just minutes ago.

“Without a question, sir.” He replies almost immediately.

“I heard that you were born with deity’s blessing.” Your father apprises. Hyunjin abruptly retracts back. Deity’s blessing he said, it was a disgrace. A history Hyunjin never wanted to recall. How unlucky was his mother to have sacrificed herself for someone like him!

Hyunjin lets out a throaty chuckle. “That is just a rumor, sir. People spread around stuff very easily.” Even though Hyunjin doubted every little lie that spread around in the chattering town, he knew for a fact that, there was a bit of truth in the rumor. But in all seriousness, blessing? Even though it was outrageous, he has experienced things in his life that were inexplicable. Things science cannot explain, and things he couldn’t understand.

“What if I say it’s not a lie?”

Hyunjin halts abruptly. His brows creased and adjoined together in a tumult frown, he speaks, “What might you mean, sir?”

“My daughter is cursed.” Your father says in a swift flash of wind, in a nonchalant way, as if having a cursed daughter wasn’t much of a deal. For Hyunjin, things couldn’t get any more complicated. The confusion on his face grows. He feels as if he’s been catapulted into a stirring tornado, the information a bit too much for him to handle.

He doesn’t need to question anymore, because his eyes speak it all.

You were … cursed?

“And you’re the only one who can save her.”

Hyunjin never would’ve imagined he was in for a supernatural chronicles lesson, which involved around him and you; and how the deity bestowed him to revive your human soul.

iii.

“How is my princess doing?” Hyunjin sings into your ear, startling you. You jolt with surprise, the plate in your hand again fumbling with barely any balance as it tumbles down. But it doesn’t fall, instead is caught by the slender and quick hands of Hwang Hyunjin, who nuzzles his chin on your shoulder.

It’s a meeting blessed by god, isn’t it?

You’d have looked at him in the eye and spoke face to face. But that seemed, well, impossible. Cheeks close to nail distance and his breath fanning the crook of your neck, you dared not to move. “Your princess is going to die,” You say, monotonously.

The first thing that came to his mind was, the curse. “What- why?” Hyunjin asks, bewildered. A sudden panic evident in him as he turns you around. You almost feel bad for the reply you’re going to give to this perplexed Hyunjin, who looks about to lose his sanity.

“If I break another plate.”

Hyunjin looks at you like you’d said the driest joke one could possibly muster. Eyes drained of his playfulness and mouth rendered speechless. He lets out a rather relieved sigh, one that expressed his raw concern. You’re almost tripping with guilt at his opposite reaction, mind suddenly reclining backwards and telling you that you shouldn’t have done it.

All ‘shouldn’t have’s have cost you much, you did not want any addition. You’re about to apologize when Hyunjin speaks.

“You almost broke my heart. I thought I wasn’t going to see you anymore.” he looks like he’s pleading you, like he was so painfully dreading the possibility of never seeing you again. A probability that depicted his wildest nightmare. He grabs your hands into his, a hold so vulnerable as if he’d never let you go.

It strikes you right then that Hyunjin was more serious than he’d ever been. He was scared; scared and terrified of losing you, of getting his heart broken.

“Protect your heart, Hwang Hyunjin. It doesn’t deserve to be broken.” You reply, looking into his captivating brown orbs shielded by his cat-eye lids. You’ve seen emotions swirling in the cavernous depth of his eyes before, but never this desperate, never this conspicuous. Then you knew, despite his calm façade, Hwang Hyunjin held so much more to him. So much fear, so much sentiments, so much longing- for what and whom unknown to you.

“It does, only if you’re the culprit.”

He says it like it is the most natural thing ever. Like he doesn’t mind, doesn’t care if you’re rash with his heart. It’s infuriating, yet it’s spoken with such impetuosity that it heedlessly melts you. Even so, it’s wrong. Terribly wrong to hand over something so powerful, so pure into someone’s hands just like that.

“No, don’t say that! I cannot be the force that breaks you.” You say. You’d struggled to handle melanin plates, how could you handle something as precious as your everything in your clumsy hands like that? What if you drop it? What if you’re not careful? It wouldn’t give you a second chance to redeem, a penalty to resurrect it. It’s delicate, fragile and you’re afraid.

Hyunjin only smiles at you as he slides a warm hand onto your cheeks. You were wrong if you thought the emotions in his eyes couldn’t get deeper, because now, he’s staring into your eyes with the entire equatorial constellation glimmering in his orbs. His hands, eyes, smile and gestures so gentle and passionate, as if you’re the reflection in his eyes, you’re the stars and moon his eyes procured.

“I’ll let you be the hurricane.” Hyunjin begins as you hold his hand atop your cheek, feeling the warmth and comfort of it all. You’d protest, but the intensity of his words halt you, they render you speechless. “As long as I can be part of the destruction.”

Your eyes get softer and heart wrenches with his confession. Your brows adjoin together in a frown, not at all supporting his answer. It’s brutal; unfair how he’s willing himself to you, how he’s submitting himself into your hands. “But why?” you whisper, with a hidden frustration you knew he could catch. “Do you have some horrible wish to get hurt?”

“No,” he whispers back, “I just think every being is going to get hurt at least once in their lives. And how fortunate I’d be if I could get destroyed by you.”

It really was a rendezvous blessed by god.

~.~

You were again in the yard, peering off to the polychromatic horizon and simply enjoying the moment. Except, with Hyunjin stuck to your back and his hands wrapped around your waist. The soft breeze blows above the jeering grass, and so does the fading sounds of children playing far behind.

You love the moment, every second and every fractions of it. Because having Hyunjin by your side every afternoon is much more than the blessing you could ask for. And now, he's engulfed you snugly against his chest with the ice cold tips of his nose brushing against your ear.

Right now, you think you've lived for this.

All the children and their mothers were out in the large yard, playing and gossiping at the same time. You had asked your father to have a little respite as well, but he declined almost instantly, saying he had piled up work.

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin mutters softly in your ear, an inadequate vibration of his voice soothing, yet chilling to you as well. You know he’s smiling, because who wouldn’t? You both were in your blissful little world, oblivious and uninterested in what laid around you.

“You.” You reply, craning you neck to match your eyes. This was so close, a little lean and you would have your lips on his. Noses touching and a delightful smile gracing both your lips, you watch as Hyunjin’s eyes gloss with endearment, sparkles with all the affection he’s developed for you.

“You do know when to say what, right?” he asks, a sly smile covering his lips. Hyunjin leans in a little more, willfully brushing his nose against yours. You scrunch up your nose on impulse. Hyunjin stares back in melodramatic surprise, as if you’d rejected a scrumptious offer of his.

But the look changes in moments and his eyes are back to mimicking the whole universe, a thousand stars, a thousand granite shining in the confines of two reflecting orbs. Hyunjin slowly leans even closer, eyes fluttering shut. You knew what was coming, and the thought of it brought fright-nerves to you. You’ve never done this before, never really felt this way before. What if you mess up? What if he realizes you’re not what he wants? What if he remains dissatisfied because of your inexperienced movement?

Theres so many questions in your head, yet you advance with no reluctance. Partly because what if it’s the first time? You trusted him. “I’ve never done this before,” you murmur with the faintest voice, looking into his heavy lidded eyes.

“That’s a pleasure for me then.” The last comforting smile is what you see as he dips his head down to yours, lips so close that you shudder with anticipation. The time is yours. The little moment of that bliss is what remained. His lips almost touching yours, but they don’t.

Instead the air wracks with frantic yells, dozens of footsteps sound past you, along with numerous panicked yells. You whip your head forward in terror, in order to see what the commotion was about. But Hyunjin is quicker; and before you could get a gist of the upcoming danger, your face is firmly pressed into his chest. Hyunjin ducks with you behind the huge boulder, hands still cradling you into his embrace.

You do not know what’s happening at all, nor what’s to come. All you do hear for a moment is the sprightly beating of Hyunjin’s heart, and the persistent white noise that comes with him blocking your hearing senses. Your mind blank, you cannot hear anything, cannot see anything; why is he doing this?

But then you hear it. No matter how tightly he’s holding you, how blank your ears sound, it was significant. Through your congested ears, you heard a loud explosion. Out of shock, you felt yourself in a frenzy, amid a mass of terrible sensations and trying to free yourself from the constricted hold. The fearful blow of explosion, the noise of breaking glass, the hoarse blank sound that overpowers your mind, everything was far less than the whirlpool of horror as you realized your father was still in there. He was there, inside.

On the other hand, Hyunjin saw it all. How the irregular pentagon bombs dropped from helicopter shafts, a few miles away. An instant later, a blinding flash like lightening shot through, and a huge gust of varicolored fire belched upward, emitting a series of smoke-rings floating up in the air. Then, it spread to form the mushroom-head of a column of incandescent gas that mounted to overtake it, engorging the smoke-rings as it rose, twisting, writhing, changing shape, turning to dark smoke one moment and eructing flame and crackling with lightening the next.

The sound of burn and luminous radioactive gasses spurting into larger explosions are what remained. Hyunjin stood up with the both of you, mind frantic and persistent with the thought of getting away from here.

It was the work of enemy alliances, and he could not stay here any longer. They could be here any second, any moment. He had to protect you, at any cost.

“Will you protect my daughter if I’m gone?”

That’s what his priority was. Then from the lane comes the sound of sirens and tires throwing up spray from the dry, ash-kissed lane. The cavalry are here, but not to save, not to rescue. And no one knew it better than Hyunjin.

Hyunjin sprinted into a rapid run, dragging you by the hand quickly. Both of your hearts are turbulent, but with different causes. You know for a fact, Hyunjin is protecting you from any potential harm, but it doesn’t sit well with you. Your father was in there, probably still is, why are you the only one getting spared from the explosive fire. Why?

Your guilt twists and traps you into an inebriate current. You could’ve saved your father, he was still in there! You scream with agony, demanding him to stop as you attempt your best to jerk your hands away. At this moment, you didn’t want the costless protection, you didn’t want to be prioritized. Your only thought being your father’s demise.

But Hyunjin doesn’t listen at all. He’s only pulling you faster and closer to the guilt-ridden fate of yours. When suddenly you’re pulled and obscured amidst a terrestrial forest, only then does he release you.

“I’m so sorry, princess.”

You look up to meet his dejected eyes with you own tear-stricken ones. Not thinking even once, you punch his chest with all your might, and again, and again, again and again until you’re crying out in demented whirls, all those whelmed and jumbled frames of your mind spilling out in the form of rushing briny-liquid. Hyunjin doesn’t flinch at all, instead, letting you continue until you’re out of breath, out of strength. Only then do you plummet onto his chest, resounding cries still venting from your throat. You’d say your throat hurt, but not more than the pain that envelops you whole; a painful, wrenching pain.

Before you knew it, your cries had taken the afternoon down, the sky now gradient with blue hues as the evening befell.

You wrap your arms around Hyunjin, fatigued wails leaving a trace of whimpers leaving your lips. Hyunjin reciprocates immediately, caressing your back in soft and tender circles. The loud cries might have died down, but not the clamor of your heart, not at all. Your mind was still in stubborn repudiation with the reality, but you cannot deny the gravity of what has already occurred.

But what can you do?

You know Hyunjin was right, is right. He’s made the most rational decision, and you were the one who was not rational. How could you be? It was not every day when you get the most important person slew and separated from you with such cruelty.

The evening went by with the both of you in the barren woods. It hurts Hyunjin to see you suffering, especially when he can’t do anything to ease the pain, can’t do anything but pledge to protect you. You felt guilty at times, even more guilt piling atop your shoulders; because you’re just letting him do everything for you without any response, any sign of gratitude. And he only does more.

Hyunjin has surmised your every feelings like an open book. You were very much grateful, but made zero to no effort in expressing it. Hyunjin carried you on his back to the end of the woods, where you could see a lit settlement and traces of human civilization. This was no spared area from the war, but it looked quite a bit lively and less damaged. These people still reeked of optimism, something that you’d rarely see in those cynical walls of the shelter.

Hyunjin let you off his back when you reached the clearing. You’d thought you were going to walk from there on. Even though your legs ached like thorns prickling your bones, you were glad that Hyunjin was finally letting you do something on your own. But you were wrong. Hyunjin fished out some gold coins from his censored tunic pouch, encasing them into your grimed hands. You stared at him in confusion, however, you didn’t object.

Before you started walking, Hyunjin’s arms swathed around your back and knees, lifting you up in a swift motion. “Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you object.

Hyunjin looks deeply into your eyes, a sort of surprise coating his face. Maybe because it’s the first time you’d spoken after the incident, or maybe he wasn’t about to explain how he knew your legs were technically paralyzed. However which it was, he offers you a scant smile as he begins walking.

After a while, you were in front of what looked to be a modest tavern, people wandering outside as if they’d had no worries, no concerns about the current sparse and fragmentary feud. You were still snug in Hyunjin’s hold, you nose buried into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind you shrouding yourself into him, nor does he mind your hair tickling his back.

You don’t see anything after that, pretending to have drowsed off in his arms. You feel Hyunjin pry off the few coins from your hands and extend them to the hostelry manager. You hear him speak in the familiar upper-class decorum- much in contrast to his public delinquent image. But that was really just an image. He discreetly signals the man to speak quietly, but you sensed that. The next, you feel him striding up the stairs and silently unlock a door. You wanted to let him know of your pretentious slumber, because doing such with an occupied hand must’ve been so hard.

Hyunjin gently lays you down on the bed, the mattress being so soft that you sink into it. He must’ve signed for an expensive abode, you think.

“Princess,”

So much for your closed eyes.

You’re caught red-handed when you open your eyes, looking at him above. Hyunjin crouches down to your level as he speaks, “I have some things your father wanted me to inform you. If you freshen up, I’ll tell you, yes?”

There’s this delicacy in his voice that makes you feel like a toddler, like you’d cry any second if he was a tad bit harsh. But when did he even meet your father? Much less know something that you didn’t. But the mere name of the topic convinced you to do anything he’d say.

So you did go to wash up first.

But, the destiny seemed to conspire more for you, because everything was going so bad. You were utterly terrified when you coughed up blood from your throat. You’d thought it was just nausea, that the vigorous day hadn’t sat well with your body. But it wasn’t. It was so sudden, it was as if various insects were gnawing up your guts, as if your whole body was in distortion. The horror of it was so much for you, that the tears had begun flowing, along with the choked whimpers. As soon as you got out, Hyunjin enveloped you in a concerned embrace, consistently asking you if you were fine.

“I don’t know what’s happening, help me. Please.” You begged, clutching onto the materiel of his tunic. Hyunjin runs a soothing hand through your knotted hair, whispering words of consolence as his own heart cried along with you.

He knew it, he knew what was coming.

iv. (final)

“Will you protect my daughter if I’m gone?”

Hyunjin lays beside you in the warm bed, blankets ridden up to your neck and both your eyes wide open. Even though he’d woken up, none of you wanted to leave the comforts of each other. The summer rays, trajectory of the sun, warm hue of the complacent chamber- and the company of the other, it was all too hazy to wake up from. All too dreamy. “Say, you never told me what you knew about my father,” you ask.

“Oh, I suppose….” He replied. Hyunjin diverts his eyes away from yours, preparing himself for what he was going to transpire. This wasn’t really the right atmosphere to talk about such matters, but he needed to do it. Now or never. There was a long gap of silence before Hyunjin began, “Your father was a centenarian,”

He watches the side of your lips twitch, before spreading into a skeptical smile. You don’t believe him. “Are you sure that’s what you wanted to say? I think we should sleep more,” he hears you say, tugging the blanket upwards. He gently holds you wrist, “No, stop. Please listen to me,” he pleads. You wouldn’t have believed him if it were not for his pleading eyes. It was a silent supplicant, one that convinced you that he wasn’t lying in the slightest. You trusted him.

“She’s cursed, and none but you can save her,”

“He really was a centenarian. Have you never wondered about the lasting time behind the bracelet on your wrist? Never wondered why your father had been so persistent about never touching it? You probably know that you’re - damn it - you’re not normal.” Hyunjin interrogates, in an attempt to make it believable. He knew it was hard to believe, mainly when you’d lived your life in normalcy- never knowing the consequences of the forborn curse; and then you’re entangled into a supernatural prophecy. No one would really be able to take it just fine. You seem to be in deep thoughts, your eyes ghosting over his shoulders. Until, you give him a faint nod.

“But sir, I have no idea how I could do that. Please don’t get me wrong, I would do anything for her, but how?”

“He was.. part of a heretic organization who obtained aberrant magic through human sacrifices.” Hyunjin’s observing your emotions like a cautious deer caught in an ineffable trap. But he sees nothing, your eyes peer over him with monochrome, nothing to be seen and nothing to decipher.

“All that you need is a bond.”

“He reclined from them once they’d tried things beyond their ability. And then he had your mother, you. He has mentioned how you were the most precious thing that’s ever happened to him.” – to me too. He sees your eyes snap back to lock into his; he sees the unending plethora of hurt, reminisce, guilt, sadness and love all pool in your glimmering orbs like the reflection of a pure brook. Your lips turn into a deep shade of red, rosy nose taking in what was now shaky breaths. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t wait either.

“A bond?”

“But you were born with an immortal curse. Your bracelet was a temporary annulment magic from a sorcerer, which would break once you age twenty one. He was told that your curse was one that could only be broken by something- something that’s purity exceeds that of the curse’s evil.” Hyunjin pauses, “And that’s me.” it seems like you’ve never known anything like that, like you’ve never surmised the possibility of your salvation being a person. Because your saucer eyes prove him just that. He feels your hands glide to find his under the blanket, a fragile hold.

“Yes, a bond. Be it a true friends concern, a lover’s love, anything. Anything that ties you to her on a deeper, emotional level.”

“Do you think it's true? That you could break my curse?” your voice is only a level above whisper as your fingers tauten around his. Your eyes have such hope, yet such trepidation, as if the reality of him being your soul mate was bewildering. Maybe you’d lost hope when you father separated, when the consternation caressed you like an old friend. Nonetheless, you’ve never ceased to trust him.

“If you think you cannot be yourself without her, that she's become an inseparable part of you, if you love her, that’s all you need. If not, don’t even try.”

“I do.”

Hyunjin has never been so sure, has never felt this flame of certainly in his veins as he connects your forehead in a feather-like touch. He doesn’t know how the haze of your eyes is so familiar to him, how every touch, every whisper brings him to the impossible conclusion that he has always loved you- before and after, in an unknown time, a relishing place- or maybe another existence. You walked into his heart like you always belonged there, took down his walls and lit his soul on fire.

This is it.

“I swear under oath, I shall, therefore, sacrifice my heart of deity for the quietus of the evil that bore you, my love.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see anything, because the overshadowing dark mist that consumed him was impenetrable.

And before he knew it, he knew nothing.

a/n: i added the picture above if you don’t get the ending. :’)

does this need a sequel? If i get responses on that, I’ll do it.

138 notes · View notes

katiesfics · 4 years

Text

Hurt/Comfort- Humming

Alright, so we’re onto the second fic in two days, clearly I sparked something in myself lol. So have some malex/Guerin angst with a hopeful ending!

---

Michael came to with a strange sound humming in his ear. It sounded like actual humming...like someone was humming a song above him. He knew he’d been down here too long if he was actually hallucinating someone humming to him. Jesus, he’d overdone it this time.

It’s just, he was so confused, like, all the time, between Jesse being gone, the alien artifact literally self-destructing at the fair, Alex being kidnapped to get to him, Maria breaking up with him, and then...that song. He’d basically barricaded himself in his bunker and just tinkered. With the ship, with random pieces of scrap found in Sanders’ yard, whatever. Anything to try and keep the noise and the chaos in his mind from careening out control and exploding things around him.

Alex had been the only one who’d ever been able to quiet the noise, besides playing music, but he’d already blown that chance one too many times. He hadn’t even taken the guitar that Alex had offered him all those weeks (months? Who knows) ago. No, he’d insulted him, and then returned his gift.

What he would give now to be able to go back in time and accept the love and the, just, the kindness that Alex had been extending to him for so long now. What he would give to have been sitting next to Alex on that stage when he finally felt strong enough and comfortable enough with himself to actually sing in front of all those people. And a song about them, just- fuck.

He has so many regrets.

So many.

The humming continued. It sounded familiar.

Just fucking fantastic, Michael. You isolated yourself in your bunker, avoiding people for so long, that you passed out, and now you’re literally hallucinating Alex humming the song he wrote about you while you lay on the ground. What a real winner, Michael. You’re really showing how you got your life together.

When he felt fingers start combing through his hair, though, he paused his mental downward spiral. He started focusing on the things he could sense, noticing that the ground under his head was suspiciously soft, like his head was pillowed on something. He could smell himself (again, Christ, Michael, you could have at least hosed yourself down or something), but there was another, intimately familiar scent coming from underneath his cheek.

He was afraid to open his eyes. It felt too real to be a hallucination, but until he opened his eyes he could pretend that Alex was really there. Had really come and found him, even after everything he’d done to push him away and shut him out, and was sitting on the floor with Michael’s head in his lap.

The humming trailed off slowly. “...Michael?” he heard Alex murmur softly from above him.

He felt the tears well up beneath his lids, and he was helpless to stop them from falling. They dripped over his nose, and onto the jeans beneath his cheek. Once they started, they just kept coming. Over, and over. It started silently, but it quickly became harder to subdue, turning into heaving sobs.

He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, but he felt Alex lean over him, covering him with his body, creating a solace that he could hide in. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t even know why Alex was here, but he couldn’t stop crying long enough to ask. Every time he tried, his breathing hiccuped as his body fought him to let it out.

“Michael, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You don’t have to hide from me. I’ve got you, let it out,” Alex said, and then started humming again. Hearing their song, the one that he had left in the middle of, because he couldn’t handle hearing how it ended, just made him sob even harder.

How could Alex still be here, after everything? How could he still sound so hopeful, when Michael felt like the world was caving in on him? Alex had said he needed something to give him a reason to stay on the planet, and Michael had done everything he could to push him away.

He felt Alex’s forehead land on his temple, and he could feel the vibrations of his humming pulse through him like a heartbeat. Eventually, his tears stopped coming, and all that was left of him was a shuddering, damp mess.

Even after the tears subsided, Alex kept humming. No words, but Michael didn’t need them. He could feel Alex’s heart and soul through the way he was wrapped around him, even though it couldn’t be comfortable. Through the way he had never stopped carding his fingers through his curls. Through the way he was still here, however much later, trying to comfort Michael, even though Michael should be the one apologizing to him.

He steeled himself and hesitantly reached one hand up to grab the one not in his hair. He wasn’t ready to stop that comfort yet. He found the other hand and squeezed it as tightly as he dared, trying not to hurt, but desperately afraid that it would disappear.

“Alex…” he started. “I- I don’t know how to make this better. I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought...I thought I was making the right decisions, but everything keeps getting worse. When you disappeared,” he stopped to take a deep breath to center himself, “I honestly wasn’t sure I was ever going to see you again,” (alive, his brain added).

“When Maria broke up with me, I thought to myself, yeah, that makes sense. This is better. But then your song.” He squeezed Alex’s hand harder at this. “I honestly wasn’t sure how it was going to end. I didn’t want to know. I could see how Forrest looked at you, and I just- I ran, exactly what I’ve been accusing you of doing for the last ten years.”

He took another deep, shuddery breath. “Alex,” he whispered, “why are you here?”

He felt Alex thinking. He didn’t want to know the answer. But he did.

“When I sang that song,” Alex began softly, “it was more for myself than for us, or for anyone else. I needed to finally get all of the words out, instead of bottling them up, and I needed to sing again. Just for me. My dad was...gone, there was nobody that I was really scared of anymore to stop me, and I knew I had to do it.

“When you walked in, it felt like fate.” He felt Alex huff a laugh. “Cosmic, if you will. I felt myself light up inside, thinking, hey, he’s here. He sees me. And then you left. And all I could think was to wonder if you were okay. And if you were coming back. Afterwards, Forrest was waiting, and I was so excited that I had just sung in front of a bunch of people for the first time in ten years, and you had looked away, so I decided, fuck it, I’m gonna do it. And I kissed him. And I don’t regret it.”

Michael felt the hurt hit him in the chest, but he curled in on himself, knowing that he had done practically the same thing to Alex.

“But you know what I thought, immediately after we left?” Alex continued, ignoring Michael’s physical response. “I thought, I hope Michael’s okay. You walked away, but I knew that after everything that had happened, you would shut down. How sad is that? After everything, I still know you better than I know myself. And yet, we still can’t figure this thing out. We still can’t manage to get on the same page at the same time.”

Michael felt something hit his cheek, and realized that Alex was crying. Oh god, he’d made Alex cry.

“I gave you a few days, but when nobody had seen you, I knew I had to come check on you. I promised you that I was going to stick around, that I would be your friend, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m here, Michael, even if you don’t love me anymore. I’m here and I will be here. I’m gonna keep meeting you in the middle, but I’m not gonna do more than that. I can’t keep hurting myself over something that’s clearly done. So hopefully we can at least make that work.”

Michael froze when he realized Alex thought he didn’t love him anymore. But, how could he think any differently after the way he’d treated him?

He sat up so quickly Alex had to jerk out of the way to avoid being headbutted.

“Alex, I still love you,” he blurted out.

Alex looked at him in shock.

“Alex, I- I know you have no reason to believe me, god knows I haven’t given you any reason to in the last year, but I need you to hear it from me. I love you. I love you. It took me a long time, and a lot of traumatic shit to realize it myself, but there’s nobody else that’s ever going to come close to you.

“I know we have a lot of shit to talk about, and I have a lot of apologies to make,” he saw Alex open his mouth to object, but barreled on. “Okay, maybe both of us have some apologies to make. But even if it’s too late, I need you to know that I still love you. I never stopped.

“When I left the bar that night, I was afraid. I was a coward, because I could tell that you were ready. But I wasn’t. Maria had just broken up with me, and I just- You couldn’t be the person I used to fill that gap, when you are so much more than that. You can’t be anyone’s rebound, because I can’t rebound with someone I’ve loved cosmically,” the corner of Alex’s mouth lifted at that, “for the last ten years. Because nobody even comes close. But then I realized, you could never fill any gap except the one that’s been there since your dad forced us apart ten years ago.”

He grabbed both of Alex’s hands that had dropped when he’d sat up. “I don’t know if you’re willing, or even if it’s the right time right now, after everything that’s happened, but I can’t let you go one more second thinking I don’t love you. I’m willing to work through my issues in order to get it right this time, because you getting kidnapped showed me that I honestly don’t think I could live without you.

“I walked away because I thought you might be ready to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me, and I wanted that for you. But...if you’re here, saying that you’re ready? I’m in. I’m in, a million percent.”

He held Alex’s gaze with his own, letting Alex sort through his thoughts. If he had to wait ten more years for Alex to be ready, he would. He was tired. Tired of them constantly being out of sync. Waiting ten more years to get in sync with Alex would be nothing compared to life afterwards.

“I’m...I’m ready, Michael. We’re gonna need to take things slow, and have a lot of conversations - and I mean it Michael, like actually talk to each other with words, not just pretty metaphors - but I- I want this.”

Michael realized two things right then. One, he fucking loved Alex Manes with his entire fucking alien soul. And two, Alex hadn’t once called him Guerin tonight. He’d been Michael since he’d woken up on the floor.

He felt the grin start spreading slowly across his face. It felt like electricity was coursing through his body, and he felt the urge to jump up and down like a little kid. Alex had a matching grin growing on his face.

He leaned over and, grabbing Alex’s face with both hands, placed a loud, obnoxious kiss on Alex’s forehead. “Oh you better get ready, darlin’, because I’m ready to talk the shit out of you.” He winked at him, and Alex through his head back and laughed.

God, Michael hadn’t been so excited to have a conversation in his entire life. It would be worth it. He was looking at the rest of his life, and by god, it was so worth it.

#malex #my fic #let's get this crazy train started #who am I kidding it already has LOL #can they just fucking tALK TO EACH OTHER #without the Dramatic Gay Breakups TM #malex fic #canon universe #fix it fic

56 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 4 years

Text

Witch Hazel- Pt.6

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: i’ve had mixed feelings about the tumblr fic community as of late :/ but heres something to read🥺

Holding the boy’s pinky in your own, you stare once more at his drawing of you with your guitar and flower crown—a superhero to those whom you shared your music with.

No. Your music hasn’t saved anyone. You’ve never been a hero to anyone. If anything, you’re the one who needs to be saved. You’d always thought you could grow strong enough to save yourself if you just closed yourself off from the world and did everything on your own. But in the end, that only seemed to hurt you more.

You should’ve known. It’s okay to ask for help, to reach out, to let him in.

“A few years ago, I had a thought. It wasn’t a very smart thought, but I decided I wanted to share part of myself with the world. I thought about the different ways I could go about that, but the way that made the most sense for me was music,” you say, finally letting go of Jungkook’s pinky and making yourself awfully comfortable on a bed that doesn’t belong to you. “So I auditioned for Polar Entertainment. Not to be an idol, but to be a songwriter.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but he nods as if it’s not a shock to him, as if he saw it as “a Y/N thing to do.” At the same time, his gentle eyes wait for you to continue, curious to know what’ll happen next.

“Do you remember the song you heard me singing the other day in the music room?”

Jungkook cracks a smirk and starts singing your song word for word in a surprisingly in-tune whisper. Oh, he remembers it alright, and he’ll apparently never let you live it down. He doesn’t stop until you throw one of the balled-up blankets at his face.

“That was the first time I picked up my guitar and sang that song since being rejected at the audition.”

“I can imagine how scarring that would be. Rejection,” he shudders at the word, though you’re sure he knows little about the feeling with art skills as professional as his. “They really didn’t like you though?”

“They liked certain parts of me.” Your vocals, your beauty, your body. “But not the ones that mattered.” Your music, your creativity, your personality. You.

“That’s their loss,” Jungkook says in the midst of a yawn, practically inaudible. But you heard him.

“Maybe they had a point,” you say, looking up at the ceiling. “Because when I look back to that time, it was quite foolish of me to believe my music would reach anyone when it came from a place of desperation, not my heart. The song was a plea for help, not one that would save others.”

“What made you suddenly sing it again after all this time?”

You grab hold of the boy’s hand and form yet another pinky promise. “Promise you won’t laugh at me for my reason.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he says with the straightest face. He’s ready to burst out laughing again and you know it.

“Then I won’t tell you.” With a hmph, you bury yourself under the fluffiest blanket. You wonder how he would’ve reacted if you told him it was that dang jk.seagull and his fanfic that gave you the courage to sing again, to go back to your roots, to follow your love of creating music. It’d obviously sound ridiculous to admit it out loud, but the joy you feel from reading Witch Hazel is what reminds you of the very thing you want to provide others with—happiness.

And that’s perhaps all the encouragement you needed to start sharing your music again.

“I won’t tell you what it was exactly that made me do it, but I’ll tell you why,” you peek your head back out of the blankets to see the boy still waiting patiently for an answer. “I wanted to move on… from the failure I faced that day. That way, I can finally become that superhero you speak of.”

You place the drawing of your superhero self onto the nightstand so that it doesn’t get crinkled up on the bed. No, she’s not a superhero yet. But she will be someday.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“You better not tell anyone,” you remind him. “This isn’t something I share with other people. Ever.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he assures you, with not only his words but also his warmth.

“Good.” You smile whilst closing your eyes. You meant to tell him that he could confide in you too, but the warmth pulls you into a deep slumber before you could do so.

It’s been a minute since you’ve awoken in someone else’s bed, though this is the first time you aren’t all wrapped up in their embrace. Rather, half the boy’s body is hanging off the side of the bed for dear life while you’re right smack in the middle, all bundled up in one of the blankets.

If you wanted to, you could push him over the edge with the tiniest tap of your foot—that’s how close he is to falling. But as tempting as it would be to get even with the boy who teases you to no end, you opt to quietly check your phone without disturbing him.

To your surprise, you have two new notifications: a text from Seokjin earlier this morning and a late-night update from jk.seagull posted sometime after you had passed out. You’ve always been the type to take care of work obligations before indulging in guilty pleasures, so you open Seokjin’s text first.

6:04AM jinnie “so jimin’s manager reached out to me”

6:05AM jinnie “and you want to collab with jimin?”

7:12AM Y/N “oh yeah i asked him to have his manager contact you”

7:13AM Y/N “but i guess i forgot to tell you LOL”

It’s not that you forgot. You were just hesitant to tell your manager about it yourself. Because if possible, you’d like to minimize your own company’s involvement in this top-secret scheme of yours.

7:15AM jinnie “are you up to something?”

7:15AM Y/N “mayhaps”

7:16AM Y/N “but dont tell boss lady pls”

7:17AM jinnie “shes going to find out one way or another”

7:19AM Y/N “thats true 🤔 ”

7:20AM Y/N “well tbh knowing her, she’d probably approve of the collab anyway since it should clear up those dating rumors while (hopefully) appealing to jimin’s fanbase”

7:21AM Y/N “just dont tell her the logistics of the collab”

7:21AM jinnie “what are you scheming lmao”

7:22AM Y/N “youll see”

7:22AM jinnie “ 😒 dont get me or yourself in trouble Y/N”

7:23AM Y/N “i wont! i promise! 🥺 ”

7:24AM jinnie “okay fine”

7:25AM jinnie “ill arrange a meeting with jimin and his manager to discuss everything formally”

As you move on to the more exciting notification on your phone, you see that the sleeping Jungkook has slipped several inches closer to falling flat on his face. Maybe you’ll save him from his impending doom. Maybe you won’t. But that’ll have to wait until after you see what jk.seagull had to say on his blog.

“do you ever think back to that one time in math camp when a little girl screamed in your face that she hated math and wanted to become a musician instead? apparently she somehow confused ‘musician’ with ‘mathematician’ LMAO”

You aren’t sure what provoked the silly seagull guy to share such a random thought, but you do get a good laugh out of it. After all, you can totally relate as someone who went to math camp one summer despite knowing in your heart what you truly wanted to do-

Wait.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed, half-urgent tone, though calling his name wouldn’t be what actually wakes him from his slumber. “I think I know who the seagull guy is.”

Thud. You swear on your life you didn’t lay a finger on the boy when he fell, despite all the devilish thoughts you had about it earlier. He fell on his own. You’re innocent. Therefore, you have a right to laugh.

“Are you okay?” you snicker, peering down from the bed at the dazed boy. He might have been the biggest klutz for rolling off the bed and stumbling around to find his glasses, but holy shit. His wild bedhead and scattered blankets across the floor make it seem as though the two of you had a lot more than just an innocent heart-to-heart in his bed last night.

“I’m fine,” he stretches his arms and combs the bedhead out. Yes, he is fine. “But, uhh, what’s this about that seagull guy?”

“I think I know him.” You expect Jungkook to be as excited as you are, but he just seems kind of puzzled—perhaps from his lack of sleep.

“…and how did you come to that conclusion…?” he asks. Or maybe he doesn’t believe you.

“You didn’t see the post! Look at the post.” You join the boy down on the floor and make yourself at home there with your phone and some of the fallen blankets. He leans over your shoulder to read the infamous post you won’t shut up about.

“Math camp?” Jungkook continues to squint at the cryptic message before chuckling. “Also, did that girl seriously confuse musician with mathematician?”

“Stop laughing! That dumbass was me.” Now you wish you had kicked his ass off the bed.

He stops laughing, not because you told him to but because he’s mildly shook. “What?”

You take a deep breath in because you know you’re setting yourself up to be clowned for the rest of your fucking life. “When I was like ten, I told my parents that I wanted to be a mathematician, thinking that word meant musician. So they signed me up for camp that summer.”

“Did you ever stop to think that mathematician has the word math in it and not mu-”

You interrupt the boy’s unwelcomed commentary with an air-punch to his guts before continuing on as if nothing happened. “I was so excited until I got there. It was absolutely mortifying to learn that it was a math camp, not a music camp.”

“I like this story,” he nods with his arms guarding himself in anticipation of another air-jab as you square up.

“Still, I tried to make the best out of the situation since I was actually kind of good at math,” you say. “The camp director even told me I’d make a great math professor one day.”

“I can’t imagine you as a math professor.” He settles down with all the chuckling.

“I couldn’t either, so I ran off to an empty room where I thought I could escape without anyone finding me,” you soften your tone. “But somehow a crying, wandering boy found me.”

“Was it the seagull?”

“Maybe. All I remember was hearing music playing from somewhere outside. I sang along as a way to comfort and distract myself from the whole math situation, but it seemed to cheer up the boy as well.”

“Your voice does have that effect, you know.”

“He told me the same thing.” You can’t help but smile a little at the compliment. “But in that moment, it felt like my dream had a purpose beyond fueling my own desires. And I needed to share it with someone. Anyone.”

“So you shared it with the boy?”

You nod. “I told him my dream was to be a mathematician, but he knew what I meant.”

“Did he at least clown you first?”

“He did. He laughed right in my face, and at first I thought he was a jerk for making fun of my dream. But after he kindly taught me the difference between musician and mathematician, I announced my actual dream to him and him alone.”

“And how’d he respond?”

“He said it was cool beans.”

“He said cool beans?”

“Those were his exact words, yes.”

“And that was it?”

“That’s all I can remember.”

“So you don’t even remember his name or anything?”

“We never introduced ourselves,” you shake your head. “I don’t remember his face either because it was covered by a hood and long hair.”

“That’s too bad,” Jungkook sighs. “I bet it really was that seagull guy after all.”

“I have a feeling it was him, too.”

It would be nice and awfully romantic if you had somehow crossed paths long ago with the very seagull who continues to inspire your craft with his own. But even if that isn’t the case, you’re content with having that memory and entrusting it with another boy who has done nothing but lift you up.

You lean yourself gently against the Jungkook’s shoulder as you slip your phone back into your pocket, debating on your next course of action. The two of you should be getting ready for class, but that doesn’t sound very appealing. There are other things you’d much rather be doing, like maybe thanking the boy for lending his ear. But for some reason, it’s still difficult for you to say those two simple words of gratitude.

Perhaps it’s difficult because there’s a lot more you’d say than just “thanks man.”

“Can we just cut class and get coffee instead?” Yes, you’ll thank him for his service by treating him to coffee. Unless…? What if this is just your subtle way of asking the boy out on a date? What if he says no because you’ve already spent way too much time with him in the past 24 hours? What if he hates coffee? What if he-

“We should probably go to class to turn in our project, yeah?” Jungkook brings up a good point. But the thing is, you don’t really have your priorities straight at the moment and your mind has only two things consuming it: coffee and boy. “But we can get coffee after class.”

“Ooh, good, because there’s this one coffee shop I want you to try!” You chirp up despite your nonexistent dose of morning caffeine. “It’ll be my treat as thanks for… letting me hog your bed.”

“Oh right... that,” Jungkook hops to his feet and starts tidying up said bed. You help by picking up and folding all of the blankets. “I nearly froze and fell to my death because of that, you know.”

“I saw,” you bite your lip, trying to mask any naughty thoughts that come to mind. Because next time, if there is in fact a next time, you won’t let the boy freeze.

By the time art class ends, the weight of the dreaded group project has been lifted and your craving for coffee begins to settle in once more. And apparently, the hunger and excitement is radiating off you because someone has the audacity to make a comment about it.

“Why does your face look like that?” Taehyung teases, but you’re mildly offended.

“Because I’m getting coffee from my favorite café. That’s why,” you hiss but there’s still a hidden glow about you and your excitement. “Coffee is to me as girls are to you, Taehyung.”

“Ooh, speaking of girls, do any cute girls work there?” He strokes his wise man beard. “Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“I don’t fucking know.” And even if you did know, you wouldn’t say yes.

“How boring,” he yawns while nudging the boy next to him. “Hey Jungkook, wanna go on a double date with me? I met a pair of gamer girls, but I don’t know all the nerdy gaming stuff that you know. And think about it, this could be the first time you get laid since-”

“Actually, Jungkook’s getting coffee with me,” you interrupt. And if you had been brave enough to look up at the boy as you spoke, you would have seen the healthy pink radiance on his cheeks.

“Oh, so the two of you are dating all of a sudden?” Taehyung nods, as if he had hit the mark.

Neither you or Jungkook give an immediate answer, probably due to the unspoken yet very apparent shift in dynamics between the two of you as of late. Yes, you’ve developed certain feelings for the boy, but no, you aren’t technically “dating.” You just hope he’s on the same page as you.

“It’s just coffee,” you want to say, but it comes out of Jungkook’s mouth instead. And even though you would’ve said the same exact thing, it hits a little different hearing it from him.

At the same time, coffee is coffee and Jungkook is Jungkook. You need to remind yourself that your craving for coffee with the boy will be satisfied, regardless of whether it’s a date or not. After all, “dating” is not an option for an idol who should only be focusing on her music and fans.

“Which drink would you recommend?” Jungkook asks as you lead him in the direction of the café.

“If you like coffee, all of the drinks are good in my humble opinion,” you say, though you realize you should probably give the boy a few specific suggestions to make his decision a little easier. “You can get a standard mocha or latte if you want something simple. Or, their signature hazelnut coffee is really really good. Or if you want something iced, you should try the cold brew because it’s literally the most refreshing dose of caffeine ever. Oh! But if you’re into something more plant-based, I suggest the maple oat-”

“You’re not narrowing down my options if you recommend the entire menu, Y/N,” the boy chuckles at your coffee enthusiast behavior.

“Well, here’s my thought process: if we go at least once a week after class, you can eventually try every drink on the menu by the end of the school year. Not including all the different types of milk options though.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified that you even bothered to do that calculation.” His eyes are bigger and brighter than the sun. “But that must mean you really like coffee then, huh?”

“Of course! Is that even a question?” The snobby coffee enthusiast jumped out real quick. But even beyond the coffee, you did the calculation to see how long your little coffee not-dates with the boy could last before you have to return to your idol obligations. “You like coffee too, right?”

“Not really,” he sighs. Your jaw drops. Who the does he think he is? “Are there any tea options? Or like a banana milk or something?”

“You can’t just walk into a coffee shop and not order coffee.” Is this guy for real? No, he’s just fucking with you. Probably. “I better start reevaluating who I hang out with,” you say with a sarcastic hmph.

“I’m kidding, kind of.” He doesn’t do a very good job of reassuring you of that. “I like… coffee.”

“That hesitant pause doesn’t sit well with me, Jeon.” You raise an eyebrow at the suspicious boy. It feels nice to tease him for once. “Why are you grabbing coffee with me if you don’t love it?”

“I just curious about this coffee place,” he nudges you, “since someone seems to really enjoy it.”

So it’s because of you…

“Good to know I’ve successfully peer pressured you into consuming caffeine,” you hum, playing it off as if his words weren’t absorbed right into your heart. It was never about coffee.

It’s about you and him.

The thought of that makes your heart scream a little, so you hide your flustered face behind your phone as the two of you approach the coffee shop. You have an unread text from your manager.

2:35PM jinnie “good news”

2:36PM jinnie “i set up a meeting with jimin and his manager in an hour”

You stop in your tracks. That’s not good news. Well actually, it is good for your top secret collab. But the timing of it all is anything but good.

“Are you searching up the menu online? Oh wait, you already have the entire menu memorized from A to Z.” He thinks he’s funny. Now is not the time, Jeon. His teasing smile doesn’t disappear until the distress is written all over your face.

How do you cancel a not-a-date date without a proper explanation? How can you do that to a boy who has only ever done you right? The thing is, you don’t have to hurt him.

You can cancel the meeting, you can bail out on the collab, you can disappear from the idol world altogether if you choose to do so. And if you didn’t want to go that far, you could instead tell the boy of your deepest and darkest secret, of your idol identity, and he would surely understand your reasons for having to leave so suddenly for work.

You could do any of those things, but you decide not to. You won’t allow yourself to make such a rash decision, even if it’s the right one. So you decide to keep the meeting, you decide to keep your idol self hidden in the shadows, and you decide to abandon the boy.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook #bts #bangtan #witch hazel

253 notes · View notes

currentlyreadingmanga · 4 years

Text

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 20: Mitsuba (Part 3)

Previously: the feels came and hit me like a train. Mitsuba’s story was heartbreaking and I wanted nothing more than give him all the nice things he deserves and never got to experience ;; We also had another chapter of Kou being a Very Good Boy ™ and their friendship made me smile so much…...well, until he arrived…...and that happened…….and the angst also hit me like a train. Oh yeah, we also had some great exposition regarding plot-related stuff which made me ask a lot of question (but that’s not new with me lol). Hanako is coming to the scene right now and I’m :)) scared :))))

Now onto the next chapter!

Guess who’s really late again??? I really have no excuse other than me having a really bad attention span (also A3! has taken over my life pls send help)

Anyway!

Oh wow, this cover page has A Lot to disect.. The main thing my eyes were drawn to is Hanako’s expression and the fact that he’s holding the bloodied knife. He looks shocked and sad, and he’s gonna go face his brother (that he killed) and I’m terrified ahhhhh Another thing! The ropes that are tying them together: now, from what I see, the ropes are tying all of them up except for Kou; like, the main connection I always associate with Yashiro and Hanako is their bond, but then the connection between Hanako and Mitsuba is that they’re both dead. It looks like all the ropes are interconnected though and I...I don’t like the implications that my brain is coming up with right now………...Yashiro baby please be safe, okay? Like, it could also mean that Mitsuba is gonna form some sort of bond with Hanako, but let’s be real, what would bring the biggest amount of angst? Exactly. From what I’ve seen so far, the covers have elements that are relevant to the plot and I feel like there’s a lot of things here that could be concerning :))))

Ahhhh okay let’s keep going

So we’re back with Not-Hanako and Kou after Sakura changed Mitsuba’s rumor and turned him into THAT. And you guys remember how I mentioned that it unsettles me when Hanako smiles creepily and his eyes turn dark? Well

I’m incredibly unsettled right now.

Okay so Mitsuba’s wish was too vague for Not-Hanako to turn him into something more than a “half-done supernatural”. He didn’t know what he wanted to do but he knew that he wanted people to remember him. But thanks to Kou, now he knows his actual wish: friends. Mitsuba just wants to stay with his friends and oh, can you hear that???? that’s the sound of my heart breaking (again).

Kou is understadably pissed but Not-Hanako is ignoring him, and he mentions that the more people Mitsuba gets to remember him, the longer he will be able to stay there. And yeah, it checks out with what we know about supernaturals since Tsuchigomori mentioned that it’s easier for him since he can spread his own rumors.

Oh………...oh no………...Mitsuba baby no pls (;;⚆_⚆)

Yeah, this ties to what he said before about “if that’s enought to break the world then it’s better off broken”. It seems like he just wants everyone to let go of their morals and see where that lead them. Also “the price of this wish is your mind”, does he mean like, his conciousness? his ability to discern right from wrong? Because if he can strip him from that with just his touch (and the rumors) then that’s horrible. Well, I guess that’s what happened with Yako and the Mokke, right? They started killing/stealing/kidnapping people after their rumors changed.

(ﾟдﾟ；) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) OMFG THAT’S TERRIFYING MAKE IT STOP

oh no, oh no, he’s grabbing Kou and it seems like he’s choking him oh no Mitsuba baby please, I know you’re still there, come on, the power of friendship ™ can bring you back pls

Aw, Kou, sweetie, you weren’t wrong. You gave Mitsuba a good memory and the friend he had always wanted, it’s not your fault that this little shit fucked everything up.

Ahhhhh Hanako is finally here! Oh geez, he cut Mitsuba clean in half ;; But like, he should be fine, right? He also stabbed Yako and she was okay. So Mitsuba should return to his previous form…….right? Please? (;;⚆.⚆)

I really need Not-Hanako to stop being cute, I’m trying to be mad and he unsettles me

!!!!! We finally have a name!!!! I can’t stop calling him Not-Hanako, bless

Awww baby, Hanako is shaking so much :cccc This looks like it’s so hard for him, oh dear

“Back when you killed me” ………………………...ok so that makes it sound like he pushed Hanako to do it, at least in some way………….those wounds and bruises and…..rope marks…….little Amane had when he was alive really aren’t looking good under this lense, I don’t li k e t h i s

(ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；) fucking hell, that’s just. yikes. Like, Amane seemed like such a sweet kid, you really have to wonder what was it that made him finally snap, especially in such a way

It really looks like he’s just teasing him even though Amane clearly finds the whole event (and even his brother’s mere presence) traumatizing. It’s weird, Tsukasa seems like he’s doing all this on purpose but he also doesn’t realize that it doesn’t make his brother happy. It has the complete opposite effect, in fact. Even the way he’s standing on his tiptoes, it can just be a cute habit but it also makes him tower slightly over Amane.

Sigh okay, he’s gone, thank you. But!!! Kou is calling out to Mitsuba!! Is he okay??

…………………….oh no. His face says it all, he can’t, he wants to but he can’t

(TдT)(TдT)(TдT) this is so fucking sad. This poor child just wanted a happy (after)life with his friends and he tried, he tried so hard, but every time his chances was snuffed out.

“...we have have no future”

Hmmm…...the way that he’s wording this and what he said during the young exorcist arc gives me the idea that he actually doesn’t like being a supernatural, he thinks there’s really no point to existing after death since he doesn’t grow old nor he can pursue his old dreams. But he HAS to do it; he hates it, but he has a mission so that he can repent for his sins, and his sense of obligation is strong enough that he pleaded for his “life” to Teru, knowing that, in his own eyes, he shouldn’t be here in the first place, And he really did thought that Kou could help Mitsuba in a kinder way so that the ghost would be able to pass on happy but it backfired spectacularly. Living on after you die seems like a truly heart-rending existence.

And there’s only the camera left behind…...No, this-this is fine, I’m fine, this is……. (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Oh dear, and now Kou is blaming himself for not being stronger, strong like his brother, strong enough to save Mitsuba. I should have seen it coming, considering we know very well how Kou views his brother as a kind of ideal and, in turn, views himself as not good enough, but it still hurts. And I know it’s because he’s grieving, but he really shouldn’t do this to himself right now.

“I’m pretty sure destruction is the only salvation for the dead.” At first I thought this was a contradiction to what he had said before (about himself) but it really isn’t. He thinks it’s best when the dead are able to disappear from this world, but he doesn’t want salvation for himself, he wants an opportunity to atone. And I wonder if because of that, he sees himself as someone who’s past salvation.

I’m glad that Kou immediately cuts him off and says that’s ridiculous. Because even if Kou is saying it for Mitsuba, I’m pretty sure Hanako also needed to hear that.

Also, it looks like this is the beginning of a very strong grudge against Tsukasa on Kou’s part and I get it but also I’m :))) scared :)))

I mean, I think he’s got a point there. Yeah, the world has rules that the average people can’t change but he has a power not many others (?) have, so him being able to change things in regards to supernaturals doesn’t seem out of the question.

AHHHHHHHHHHH HE FOUND HIS PICTURE

(ಥ﹏ಥ) (ಥ﹏ಥ) (ಥ﹏ಥ) take a shot every time I wanted to cry during this chapter

Oh!!! we’re at sea with the mermaid and her people! Mr pufferfish died but the other fish survived so he reported back to her.

Oh. So she really did have good intentions by trying to kidnap Yashiro. Not the best method, but her heart was in the right place. BUT ALSO!!! I’m now even more worried about my girl :)))))))) please don’t let anything happen to her ;;

PFFFFFFFFFFFFT why is this me with A3! omfg Yashiro sweetie we could totally bond over mobile games

Yashiro was summoned by an upperclassman?? Who-oh, wait

Of course, of-fucking-course, hi Natsuhiko, please don’t endanger my daughter, she’s done nothing wrong.

And that was the end of the chapter. It felt shorter than usual but also incredibly long because it was emotionally taxing ;; that was such a rollercoaster, oh dear

Ohhhhh there’s extras this time around!!

Awwwwwww the ten-times game panels are so precious ;u; especially the parallel between Kou-Teru and Kou-Hanako. The character sheets with the little bits of info are pretty cute as well!

Judging by the preview of the next volume, it seems like Yashiro is gonna have a tea party with the chaotic trio (Sakura doesn’t seem chaotic so far but the other two do so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry not sorry). If they hurt my child istg….

Awwwwwwwwww the middle school entrance pictures are so cute! (Amane’s and Tsukasa’s not so much in context but…...yeah)

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk spoilers #tbhk #jshk #live blogging

10 notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 5 years

Text

Young & Dangerous

Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Request: “I have a request regarding the OG Avengers. Let's say reader is the youngest member on the team, maybe still a minor, and despite having already proved themselves, they feel inferior to the rest of the team. Fluffy reassurance is needed, maybe with Steve or anyone else you care to write about at the moment. But no romance with this one please.”

Word Count: 1,310

Genre: Fluff | Angst | Platonic

Warnings: Language, Self deprecation, Not feeling good enough

A/N: ANOTHER ONE wow look at this!!! I’m feeling a lot better so hopefully I can just constantly write and post stuff! This request didn’t specify a gender, so I made it gender neutral. I have some requests that I still need to write, but I’ll still take new ones! It just might take a hot minute until I write them. I’m a very slow writer, as you all can probably tell lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one!

───────────────────────────────────

This was just another day of you being curled up in a ball under your comforter, wondering why you were even living in the Avengers Tower with the greatest heroes on Earth. It didn’t matter to you that you’ve proven yourself time and time again to the others, you just didn’t feel good enough. Ever. A lot of your insecurities stemmed from the other Avengers being so much older than you. Since you were only sixteen, you felt like an inadequate member of the team. I mean, come on. Steve was in triple digits and Thor was in quadruple digits. And you just got the okay to drive- as long as you got a permit and had six months of driving with a guardian under your belt. Tying in with the age inferiority, your experience was far less than theirs. While they were out stopping bad guys and training to become super spies, you were sitting in gym class watching Captain America tell everyone the importance of being able to do twenty-five push-ups and run a mile. You may have had an interesting and hard to beat power, but you weren’t experienced enough. You were horrified you would mess up someday and engulf the entirety of your team in flames.

You honestly just had a ridiculous amount of doubts about yourself, and the rest of the Avengers noticed. They also noticed that today was classified as one of your “bad days,” but so far this “bad day” has been a “bad week.” You weren’t training. If you came to the kitchen to get food, you wouldn’t say anything more above “hey” or “hi,” and then you’d go right back to your room. You would proceed to stay there for the rest of the day and all throughout the night.

“I just don’t get it,” Nat says, arms crossed as she stares down the hallway toward your room. “Come on, I’m sure when you were younger you sometimes felt like you weren’t good enough. It’s teenager stuff,” Steve answers her, although he also doesn’t understand why you would be like this. “Well, yes, but (Y/N) can literally shoot fire from their fingertips. They’ve made it pretty obvious to us that they’re capable of taking on like, 15 men at once and beating all of them. Their age shouldn’t make them feel like this, it just doesn’t make sense.” “I know that, Nat. So does Tony, Banner, Barton, and Thor but (Y/N) just focuses on their flaws. It honestly reminds me of when I was that age. Believe it or not, I didn’t always look like this, and I always doubted myself. We just handle it in different ways. I would try as hard as I could to push the thoughts of being inferior and smaller than everyone else out of my mind, always standing up for what I believed in and never backing down from a fight even though I would get absolutely pummeled in them. (Y/N) just succumbs to their thoughts and can’t do anything but feel like they aren’t good enough,” Steve tells Nat, who raises her eyebrow. “You know they had before and after pictures of you, right? For science? I know what you looked like but that’s beside the point. You sound like you know exactly what (Y/N)’s going through. Why don’t you go talk to them?”

“You think I should?” “Yeah, I mean, our elders are wiser than us after all. And you’re like, literally almost 100 years older than they are,” Nat pokes fun at him, and he smiles and rolls his eyes. “You know I look pretty good for a man going on 102 years old,” he tells her and she scoffs. “Just go talk to them, Rogers.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” he says, walking away from Nat with a grin on his face. She smiles, walking to the living area convinced that he can definitely help you out. You hear a gentle knock on your door, and you sigh muttering a quiet, “Come in.” You hear your door open and then close, but you’re facing the opposite direction so who just entered is beyond you. Until you hear him speak. “Hey, Hot Shot. You doing okay?” you hear Steve ask, and you turn to look at him. “Does it look like I’m doing okay?”

“No, no it doesn’t,” he says, walking over to your desk to grab you chair. he pulls it out, then straddles the back of it with a sigh. “So, you’re feeling down.”

“Oh my god stop it, I don’t need a lecture from Captain America I get that enough at school,” you say, but a small smile appears on your lips. “Well then how about a lecture from your good friend, Steve Rogers?” he suggests, and you roll your eyes. “Fine.” You sit up, pulling your legs to your chest as he moves over to sit on your bed with you. “What’s got you so down, kid?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. You guys are all just so… good at being heroes. If I mess up even a little bit I’ll just bring death and destruction to everyone in my general area. Not to mention you guys are all actual adults and I’m literally a child. I’m still in high school, Steve. High school. You went to high school in like, the 1930’s. I’m just not… good enough for this. I’m dangerous and young and stupid and not good enough to be considered an Avenger, let alone live in the Avenger’s Tower.”

Steve nods, analyzing everything you just said before starting to talk. “Well, (Y/N), you’re just as good as us. In fact, do I need to tell you how many times you’ve saved all of us? Because I know. And it’s a lot. Just because you’re younger than us doesn’t mean you aren’t good at what you do. I know your powers can be dangerous and destructive, but have you lost control of them yet? No, you haven’t. You’re a strong-willed person and I’ve never seen someone with as much control over what they can do as I have when I see you fight. Not even Banner knows how to control his powers like you can control yours. I know how hard it can be, feeling like you just aren’t good enough. I felt like that for 20 years of my life, and I still fell like that sometimes. But I can assure you that no one here thinks you aren’t good enough. Except for yourself. When we saw what you could do, we brought you onto the team because we saw how amazing you really were. We saw a drive in you that was so much stronger than any of ours. You really shouldn’t put yourself down so much, because you’re quite literally the most impressive and amazing member on this team.”

You look at him, tears threatening to escape your eyes. “But what if I-”

“(Y/N), you’re enough. All of these ‘what if’s’ are just your insecurities making you overthink what you do. Sure, feeling like you aren’t good enough is a normal feeling, but anytime you feel like that you need to tell yourself that you are good enough. Because you are,” he tells you, and you feel a tear roll down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Any time kid. Now, what do you say we go get you something to eat,” he suggests, standing up from your bed. You follow suit, feeling much better about yourself. Knowing you had support from the rest of your team really helped improve how you saw yourself, even if your mind made you doubt your abilities many times. You still had a long way to go before accepting yourself totally, but this was a good start.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #avengers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #avengers

196 notes · View notes

stonerbughead · 4 years

Text

maria watches friday night lights (#4)

season 2, pt 2!! (2x08-2x15)

ugh Matt is really having his Being A Stupid Teenage Boy season huh?

-lol love a good naked dude being chased scene — in this case, Smash on his recruiting trip being chased around by a potential future teammate. Classic.

(it’s kinda cute that Matt came to pick him up tho)

- the latest in season 2 being off the fucking rails: really? Riggins’ new digs include a meth lab on wheels??

-Landry confessing to murdering someone and then having his sheriff dad drag him out of the station to go home is the whitest shit EVER. Like, Landry is literally *trying* to be punished and they just won’t punish his white, cop-kid ass. ‘Murica. (I mean don’t get me wrong: it WAS self defense against someone literally stalking and trying to rape Tyra, but the point still stands that if Landry was a black kid he’d have been tried as an adult and convicted no doubt)

-YESSSSS a MySpace shoutout! we love to see it

“I hate you” - Santiago (and also me) @ Buddy Garrity

-omg Coach Taylor noticing that things aren’t good at home for Riggins and taking him in, my heart!

-Wow in just one scene Riggins charmed baby Grace, warned Tami’s sister not to shame women for eating a lot (“it can lead to anorexia, especially in girls”) and then offered to go out to the store to get baby formula in the pouring rain. What a man.

-and yes, Shelly, you fully grown woman, it IS a bad idea to lust after a TEENAGE BOY

-wow Riggins protecting Julie from the SUPER DRAMATIC TORNADO that made me laugh. Do we get to have a Riggins-Julie friendship??? bc I’d be down. We need more friendships.

-Thank you, Tami, saying “EW” to her sister watching Riggins work out! Someone has sense to know a fully grown woman shouldn’t be lusting after a teenager! Julie can lust if she wants tho, that’s age appropriate.

-DYING at Landry being aghast that Tyra’s never heard of West Side Story.

-oh god, Lyla — it is totally fair to assume your mom would tell your dad she’s getting remarried, especially if she knew you’d be seeing him — so I’m sorry you’re the one who accidentally set off whatever nonsense Buddy is gonna pull now that he knows his ex wife is “marrying that treehugger.”

“Who’s that?” “Some douchebag named Chip. who names their kid Chip anyway?” Same, Tyra, same.

-Landry, one of my biggest pet peeves is asking someone out while they’re on the clock. Like, come on! let Tyra work, boy.

-Jesus Christ it’s like everywhere Julie looks, she has to see Matt making out with someone. That’s rough.

-and oop Matt you busted bc Julie actually knows who Carlotta is!

-once a cheater, always a cheater, Buddy. And yes to Pam for being like “nah bye I’m happy now, it is over.” You treated her like garbage so here we are, sir!

-hilarious that Landry is the one who ends up throwing the first punch that gets the post-tornado, school-crossover tensions to finally boil over

-I like that they show both the fall formal and the party where everyone who didn’t go to the formal is. Nice.

-Aw poor Julie got drunk af to deal with all her feelings. This really is the season where they have Julie and Matt being sixteen year olds in the most painful ways. So maybe it’s good they’re not together during this tho I’m still looking forward to when the tide turns their way again.

-anyway, Tim is a good friend for getting the creep who thought he was “one beer away from getting laid” off of Julie.

-And....in true Texas dad fashion, Eric Taylor misinterprets everything! Noooo. We can’t have nice things.

-This Noelle-Smash partnership is definitely an interesting pairing. Two very ambitious football people courting all these recruiters while Smash’s mom side eyes them in the corner? Hilarious.

-omg not this Oklahoma tech recruiter harassing smash’s mom in the grocery store! GTFO here! Give her some fucking personal space. They really do such a good job of showing as much of the toxic shit about football culture as the inspiring, big moments.

-Aw and I love that Tami tried to help Mama Smash get the guy to go away. It’s such a familiar scene, women helping each other get a dude harassing them away. And then they have a heart to heart in the parking lot? Love that.

-omg what a throwback that Shelly TAPED OVER Eric’s football game to tape a NEW EPISODE of The Office! Love it. “Y’all should get a TiVo.”

-omg watching Tami and Eric work out arguments is so beautiful, they communicate very well! We stan a good marriage.

-wow seeing the other coach from tornado school lose his shit publicly after he knocked down Riggins was uh....wild???? This is the second time he put his hands on Riggins!

-awww Eric actually coming to apologize to riggins for overreacting about Julie when he hears the real story??? Love it.

-Weevil from Veronica Mars shows up as a friend of Santiago’s? Of course.

-WOW and Logan from Gilmore girls as a Christian radio host...tracks.

“Is that your way of telling her you like her?” Jason making a surprisingly astute observation about Tim. (And Lyla.)

-yo why would you invite your daughter’s boyfriend’s family over for dinner just to say they shouldn’t date? (And bc it’s an interracial relationship.) Southern culture is wild to me lol

-wow the racist coach from last season is now off spouting his mouth about how “no wife of mine would be working with a kid at home.” I love that Eric calls him out as sounding stupid and ignorant — you better!

-hearing that Lyla burned her cheerleading uniform is one of the most badass things she’s done so far tbh along with that dealership destruction

-off the rails update: 2x12 was toooo much!! Like, Jesus between Smash’s sister getting harassed at the movie theater by the racists who hate on smash and Noelle...and this plotline with Santiago and his old friends trashing Buddy’s place...it’s like, can we breathe.

-I could not be more excited for Carlotta to leave and another teenage boy with adult woman relationship to end.

-wow can’t believe the plotline where Riggins stole $3000 from a drug dealer isn’t ending well for him. And now Smash is getting arrested bc of those racist guys from the movie theater episode? One recap I read said that too many of this season’s plots feel contrived and I think that sums it up.

-is there any character who HASN’T worked at Buddy Garrity’s dealership at this point?!

-and yikes at all the other salespeople being mad that a salesperson in a wheelchair was hired...y’all mad ugly and ableist for that

-Tyra and Landry are....confusing

-Wait Logan from GG is an actual preacher and not just a Christian radio host? CREEPY. And he kissed Lyla? A lot to unpack there.

-lol Tim trying to woo Lyla is kinda funny to watch simply bc Tim is clearly so confounded by rejection

-I love how much space they give for Smash’s sister’s pain in the Noelle-Smash theater incident. A lesser show wouldn’t have centered her as much.

-is it mean of me to say Jason is boring AF most of the time

-yeah this dreads girl is seemingly way more compatible with Landry than Tyra yikes! Like she made him a power metal mix cd???

-wow this Smash storyline where mouthing off to the press is what gets him suspended....really checks out bc teenage boys are dumb

-I love Tami as a volleyball coach and getting to see another sport! Also as someone who’s been on a losing team I know that feeling of finally winning a game!!! Go Dillon volleyball!!! (Am I maybe currently writing a Bughead fic based on my underdog field hockey experiences? ;) yes yes I am)

-Oh shit now Saracen’s at the nihilistic Nothing Matters phase of teenage angst. Right on schedule!

-lol these two short haired blondes (white dreads Jean and Tyra) being in a love triangle with Landry is wild

-Omg jean just said, “are you a friend or are you competition?” She is not playing!

-I love Riggins dragging Saracen to practice

“I don’t want you to become at an at-risk youth” -Landry teasing Saracen while also sincerely caring about him is some of the best friendship banter on this show. The accuracy 😂

-It seems like Julie gets a lot of hate? But I think I have such a soft spot for Julie bc I was a bitchy teenager with undiagnosed mental health disorders and I just wish so much #growth for her! Also I really do miss her and Saracen’s relationship, I’m so excited I’m almost at S3 where it seems like it’s happening again?

-LOL this guy at the dmv is the first person in Dillon to be like, “no I hate football.” That tracks.

-wow Saracen is getting driven to the hospital to make sure his grandma is okay by the sex worker who was just giving him a lap dance. Amazing.

-also I hope grandma is okay!

-okay Tyra throwing her hat in the ring for Landry at the last minute? Idk I think Jean deserves the win but there’s no way it’ll happen bc she’s a guest actor?!

-awww Saracen’s abandonment issues coming out whiles he in the tub after being sobered up by Eric Taylor. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” 😭 and “your daughter left me for a better guy” - will take that crumb — first mention of Julie out of Saracen’s mouth in a minute

-hey, Landry, my friend: flirting with a girl (Jean) to get her outside then dumping her immediately is kind of a wild bait and switch. But I get it, he’s been in love with Tyra for a long time and Tyra IS right — they had a very fucked up start to their relationship so it makes sense she needed a minute to process her ~feelings~. however I definitely identified closer to a jean in my high school experience L O L (minus the unacceptable white dreads)

-these Julie and Tami driving scenes are painfully accurate, btw. Love them.

-wow the scene of Smash hyping everyone up, the adrenaline/energy of the team cheering with helmets and a classic “clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” - then the whole team running out onto the field and leaving an empty locker room with just Smash breaking down into tears....#art

-alright y’all I’m gearing up for the last episode of S2! Thanks to @lockitin for reminding me this is the writers’ strike season — I was in eighth grade then and remember being pissedddd about the shortened fourth season of “the office” — so I’m fully prepared for the abruptness to come.

-I love when they parallel showing the white church and the black church

-and Tim going to church just to see Lyla makes me laugh

-ooooof Jason you cannot put on this waitress you had a one night stand with the fact that this could be your only chance to have a baby!!! Omg this poor woman who just pointed out she, too, is NINETEEN.

-wait so is Riggins doing a sports show on a Christian radio station? What?

“I think you’re really hot. Your long hair reminds me of Jesus” -Christian girls being horny for Riggins LOL

-awww Saracen being like “okay Landry you’re gonna impress Tyra right now” before that football play was a cute friendship moment for those two

-aww I love how this Smash storyline is turning out with Coach Deeks whose had his eye on him for six years my heart 😭

-also unclear to me whether Logan Huntzberger the Preacher is a fully grown adult dating a high school senior?? Biggest teen drama pet peeve once again! Stop this!

-Tami is my heroine for just leaving Eric at the restaurant fighting with her ex. “see you at home, honey!”

-I’m sorry, is Jason gonna like actually convince this girl to have a baby with her one night stand at 19??? Oh lol wait THAT ended up being the cliffhanger of the whole season? Fucking hilarious.

well I made it through season 2!!! Super psyched for Season 3, Jay has been hyping me up for it. See y’all next time! (I’ll try to post more for season 3 bc this accidentally got long af.)

#maria watches friday night lights #mine #friday night lights #friday night lights 2x08 #friday night lights 2x09 #friday night lights 2x10 #friday night lights 2x11 #friday night lights 2x12 #friday night lights 2x13 #friday night lights 2x14 #friday night lights 2x15

6 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 5 years

Text

Witch Hazel- Pt.3

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: i made an unintentional dragon ball z reference at the end of the previous chapter, and now this chapter is loaded with anime references LMAO dont worry if you arent familiar with dbz or sailor moon though!💖

As you approach the entrance to the mall, you have but one wish: Taehyung better show up before Jungkook. Not because you prefer Taehyung, but because you’re terrible at handling small talk and conversation—especially with a timid introvert like Jungkook. You’d rather leave it up to talkative Taehyung to prevent any awkward silences.

Unfortunately for you, however, your wish is not granted. Instead, you spot a bespectacled boy in a bucket hat and white shirt (not a hoodie for once!) sitting on a bench and taking pictures on his phone right outside of the mall. He doesn’t seem to notice you until he looks up from his phone and you’re standing right there with a tiny wave hello. Flustered, he adjusts his glasses and waves back, but that’s the extent of your greetings to one another.

So for the longest thirteen minutes of your life, a huge gap of nothingness sits between you and Jungkook on a wooden bench outside of the mall, waiting for Taehyung to show up. The boy resumes taking photos of the blue sky and the mall itself. You don’t get what’s so photo-worthy about an ordinary sky and the generic architecture of the mall. But then again, this is a boy who also probably has 256GB of storage space dedicated to pictures of his favorite idol (one of which is his lockscreen)—and you certainly don’t understand the appeal of Snow. Therefore, you do not bother asking the boy about his reasons for wasting storage space on certain photos. You wouldn’t understand anyway.

And since Jungkook is too busy using his phone for photos at one end of the bench, you decide to use your phone to text the missing boy from the opposite end of the bench.

10:13AM Y/N “Taehyung, it’s past 10. Where are you??”

10:14AM Taehyung “On my way baby. And don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it worth the wait 😉”

As both a desired and disliked idol, you’ve been called a lot of things: beauty, bitch, babe, ice queen, slut, witch. And you’ve put up with it because you feel like, to some degree, you brought it upon yourself. But you’re wondering what you did to deserve a “baby” from Taehyung. Because the last thing you want is for someone who’s kind-of-not-really your friend to make any sort of romantic advances on you when they know nothing about you.

10:15AM Y/N “Who are you calling baby.”

10:16AM Taehyung “?”

10:17AM Taehyung “But you were fine with it the other night 🍆💦”

10:18AM Jungkook “monkaS”

10:19AM Taehyung “Wait”

10:19AM Y/N “What’s a monkas”

10:20AM Taehyung “Oops wrong chat LOL”

10:21AM Taehyung “Anyway I already told you guys yesterday that I wasn’t coming to the group project thing. I’m busy.”

He sends a screenshot of the group chat where he very clearly had said he wasn’t free. You must’ve missed that text somehow—a fatal mistake on your end because now you’re alone at the mall with Jungkook and it’s damn near impossible to talk to that kid when you can’t even relate to him. At least Taehyung could’ve broken the ice, but of course he’s too busy getting laid.

10:22AM Y/N “Can’t you fuck around later?”

10:23AM Jungkook “poggers”

10:24AM Y/N “What’s a poggers”

10:24AM Taehyung “Sorry I need at least 2 business days to cancel or change an appointment. I’m a man of my word, not a monster ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

10:25AM Taehyung “But have fun on your date without me~”

10:26AM Jungkook “it’s not a date”

10:26AM Y/N “It’s not a date.”

At least you and Jungkook can both agree that it isn’t a date. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re stuck hanging out with him for a few hours to “get to know each other” for your stupid art project. How are you even supposed to get to know the boy when there’s nothing to talk about?

“What’s a monkas and poggers?” you ask, because your antisocial mind can’t think of anything else to say once the spam of text messages ends.

“Oh that…” Jungkook looks back down at his phone, scrolling through the text conversation to track down his cryptic messages. “It just means like oh my god and stuff.”

“In what language?” you attempt to keep the small talk going. But from the look of Jungkook’s shifty eyes, it seems you’ve probed too far.

“Gaming... language…”

“Oh.” As far as you can tell by his brief responses, the boy would rather not elaborate further. So you let the conversation die.

Instead, the two of you begin wandering around the mall, hoping it’ll spark any sort of conversation. Of course it doesn’t.

At least not initially.

For exactly 16 minutes (you would know because you’d been checking your phone every other minute as if time would pass any faster that way), you and Jungkook aimlessly walk around the mall without saying a word. And it isn’t until a new shop fills Jungkook’s eyes with sparkles that you spot an opportunity to make something happen.

The shop window is decorated with the cutest recognizable characters: Pikachu, Totoro, Naruto, Sailor Moon, and all their friends. The boy appears to have his eye on the green dragon summoned from seven Dragon Balls. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious he’s interested.

Knowing him, he’d say no if you asked him if he wanted to go inside, in fear of being a burden and wasting your time. So you find a loop hole.

“Let’s go in here,” you say. He nods, obediently following you in but keeping a safe distance. While he’d say no to his own desires, he has a hard time saying no to what everyone else wants. Sounds familiar.

The first thing you see when you walk in is the magic girl section. As someone who grew up admiring Sailor Moon, you would’ve liked to have scouted out that section for nostalgic purposes. The only thing stopping you is the hoard of weebs in that corner. Jungkook, on the other hand, goes right in.

As he joins the frenzy over waifus and body pillows, you shake your head and make a U-turn towards the section with ninjas, pirates, dragon slayers, and Saiyans. The seven plastic Dragon Balls call out to you, just as they had to Jungkook before he got distracted by pink-haired heroines. If you could have one wish granted with the magic of the Dragon Balls, what would you even wish for? There’s not much that you want, except for maybe a life you don’t feel ashamed of. But not even magic would be able to help you with that.

Sighing, you pick up a display model of one of the Dragon Ball fighters and replace his natural black hair with spiky blonde hair to transform him into a Super Saiyan, an almighty hero to protect the world.

“What exactly is the science behind turning blonde when they unleash their Super Saiyan strength?” you mumble to yourself… and the quiet boy next to you. He has a tiny shopping bag with him, so at least you know he didn’t splurge on a body pillow.

“From an artist’s perspective, it makes it easier for people to distinguish between different power levels. Especially in the comics where it’s black and white, so…” Jungkook’s rambling fades out when he realizes you might not be interested in his weeby-artist mind.

“That makes sense,” you say, still fumbling around with the Super Saiyan’s spiky blonde hair. You’d thought maybe it meant something more significant. As if changing one’s appearance could make them stronger by hiding who they really are. “But I suppose not all plot details need to be that deep.”

He nods and picks up another Dragon Ball character, the bald kid with six dots on his head, and wiggles it in your direction. “Is this the kind of anime you’re into?”

You can’t help but sneer at the random but mysterious six dots on the bald head. “This and Sailor Moon.”

Jungkook’s magic girl radar goes off when you mention Sailor Moon. “Oh, so like heroes and stuff?”

“I guess,” you answer, though you’ve never really thought about it that way. It’s not like you intentionally sought out for anything involving superheroes, but it’s something you’d always been naturally drawn to. “Though it seems a bit childish to say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure everyone has wished to be a hero at some point in their life,” the boy says, glancing back at the seven Dragon Balls. “After all, heroes give us something to admire and believe in.”

“Exactly.” You set the Super Saiyan back down on the shelf and stare at the glammed-up Sailor Moon beauties from afar. For just a split second, you’re reminded of your fateful decision to become Snow. “Kind of like idols, right?”

Jungkook flinches, clutching onto his shopping bag as if you’re lowkey judging him for being obsessed with not only pretty idols, but also pretty magic girls. You weren’t planning on bringing up the topic of idols because it can be quite toxic for yourself, but it somehow slipped out of your mouth in the presence of the biggest Snow fanboy. Oops.

“Yeah, kinda…” He lets out a half-laugh, but it sounds forced, only to fill another round of awkward silence as you both exit the anime shop. Great, you’ve brought up another touchy subject and now the boy’s back on lockdown. And just when the two of you were starting to get on the same page.

“I mean… I used to look up to the Sailor Moon characters… because they were my idols… my heroes…” you stumble over your words in an attempt to salvage any momentum you had built up with Jungkook. Surely this is something the weeb can relate to and not feel bad about now that you’ve exposed a bit of your dark past.

“Really?” He tilts his head and eases his grip on the shopping bag. “Who’s your bias—I mean favorite—of the Sailor Scouts?”

You assume he’s asking because your favorite can say a lot about you. Do you prefer crybabies like Sailor Moon, smarties like Mercury, hotheads like Mars, muscles like Jupiter, or perhaps the one who fantasizes over becoming an idol? “Sailor Venus.”

Before responding, Jungkook shuffles through his shopping bag and pulls out a tiny keychain of Sailor Venus with her pretty long hair and orange sailor suit. “Me too.”

You wonder what that says about Jeon Jungkook.

By the time lunch comes around, long silences still follow into the food court but somehow you feel less pressure to fill in the gaps. You’re simply okay with being in the boy’s company. Something about it is almost as refreshing as the iced tea you’re sipping on.

As you down your drink, you stare intently at the tall stack of pancakes across from you. The boy’s plate of fluffy delicacies has to be quadruple the size of your tiny salad bowl that you ordered out of habit.

“Um… do you want some?” Jungkook points to his pancakes, but his eyes are glued to your lips—probably because of the drool and not because you share the same pout as Snow.

“No thanks, I’m trying to eat healthier, and I already splurged on pancakes the other day,” you sigh. Even though you've taken a step back from idol life, you feel the need to maintain your image and health for the sake of fans who may worry about you. It’s in your blood, and sometimes you hate yourself for it. “But honestly, you’re really tempting me, you know.”

“Here.” Before you can refuse, Jungkook plops one of his pancakes onto the rim of your salad bowl. “It kinda defeats the purpose of dieting if it makes you unhappy, right? But that’s why cheat days exist~”

“That’s true.” You take a single bite of your pancake, savoring its subtle sweetness. You can’t remember the last time you found pure bliss in something as simple as pancakes without worry. “Thanks, Jung-”

You’re cut off by the fact that the boy’s stack of pancakes vanished, only leaving traces of syrup on the plate and a cute little crumb on the corner of his lips.

“Did you just inhale all your food while I took one (1) bite?”

He swallows the food in his mouth and takes a sip of his milk. “Maybe.”

You don’t know whether to be shocked or impressed, but it made you giggle either way. “You’re a funny guy, you know that?”

Flustered, the boy scurries off to dispose of his food tray. You rarely hand out compliments, and maybe this is why. It probably seems too out of character for someone like yourself, and Jungkook’s fragile little heart can’t handle it.

You punch yourself in the face until Jungkook walks back to the table. Seeing as you’ve only started making a dent in your lunch, he captures a few more photos on this phone, this time of the mall interior and food court. Then he pulls out his sketchbook.

He begins by mapping out a blank page with light lines and dots. Little by little, he adds in the tables, the people, the food. And before you know it, he has the whole food court sketched out and you haven’t even touched your salad yet.

“Are you into architecture? Or like exterior & interior design?” You don’t exactly know the proper art terms for whatever Jungkook’s drawing, but it would explain why he always seems to be taking photos of wherever he goes.

“Yeah, architecture and design are cool.” He shrugs and doesn’t sound all that convincing. So he diverts the spotlight back onto you. “By the way, I mean this in the least offensive way possible, but you’re not an art major, right?”

“Are you saying that because I’m shitty at art?” you pretend to be offended, but you know he’s not the malicious type. “Or because I’m always carrying a guitar to class?”

“The latter.” You see a tiny smirk on the boy’s face as he continues to add in details to his sketch. He’d never say it, but you can tell he’s also thinking your art is complete trash. “Is it music theory? Or just guitar? Or songwrit-”

Bing! Your phone notification saves you from a potentially loaded question about an uncertain future in music, and you couldn’t be more grateful. It’s a new Witch Hazel update from jk.seagull.

You glance over to Jungkook, expecting him to have the same notification on his phone. But he doesn’t. “I would’ve expected you of all people to have notifications turned on for Witch Hazel.”

“Really? Is it because you think I’m that in love with Snow?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to pretend to be offended. You’re glad to see him lightening up and not taking things to heart.

“Are you not in love with Snow?” you tease. Jungkook freezes and so do you. Why the fuck would you ever ask him if he’s in love with an extension of yourself? You don’t want to hear the answer because it’ll hurt you either way. “Nevermind, don’t answer that.”

You quickly skim jk.seagull’s beautiful comic-style artwork and stop at a panel of Snow and the new bunny boy character squaring up.

“But doesn’t this look like something right up your alley?” You flip your phone around to let the boy see the cute art.

“Does it?” Jungkook looks up from his sketchbook and puts down his pencil.

“Yeah, it feels like it would be more your style than realistic architecture would,” you say, although his sketch of the food court is somehow more gorgeous than the actual food court itself. “But I don’t know… You’d be fine with anything in the art field, to be honest.”

To your surprise, the boy shakes his head at your phone screen. “I’m not cut out for something like that.”

“Coming from the best artist in our class,” you say unconvinced. He has to be joking. Or maybe just overly modest. “Obviously I don’t know how you are with storytelling and stuff, but your art is undeniably incredible. And you have a lot of passion and knowledge for comics and anime…”

“Thanks, Y/N, but I don’t think that’s the problem.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts college au #jungkook #bts #bangtan #witch hazel

266 notes · View notes

makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 192: The Only Path Forward

Previously on BnHA: Dabi confronted Endeavor and Hawks following Endeavor’s victory over the High Brow Noumu. But then my girl Miruko the rabbit hero showed up, so Dabi fled the scene courtesy of some very familiar black ooze warping. We then cut to the League’s mysterious hideout, where MOTHERFUCKING HAWKS was meeting up with Dabi after the fact to complain that Dabi pulled some bullshit with their AGREED-UPON SECRET PLAN by attacking in the middle of a city with an experimental Noumu. Dabi in turn accused Hawks of playing games because he failed to mention Endeavor would be involved, and he also managed to prevent even a single casualty during the resulting chaos. So neither of them fully trust each other, but in the end Dabi sent Hawks off and agreed to call on him again. We then learned that Hawks is actually working undercover at the request of the police, who need eyes and ears within the League to prevent another disaster like Kamino. Hawks agreed to this knowing it would mean he’d have to make some hard decisions and turn a blind eye to some of the League’s antics. It’s implied he’s feeling guilty over what happened to Endeavor, so I have completed the adoption papers and had them notarized. Oh yeah, and speaking of guilt, for some reason Dabi is standing out looking at the night sky and being weirdly sentimental. So yeah, I basically have no idea who is on whose side at this point, but I’m fucking living for it you guys.

Today on BnHA: The world moves on from this latest incident of high profile villain destruction. Recovery Girl heals Endeavor and Hawks accompanies him to the train station while the two of them discuss the suspiciously coincidental appearance of the Noumu. Hawks manages to dismiss Endeavor’s suspicions, and Endeavor bids him farewell, but not before suggesting that Hawks should find somebody to help him with his investigation. We get an extremely intriguing Hawks flashback and learn that he was groomed to be a hero from childhood due to his talent, but that he never wanted it and longs for the day when society doesn’t need heroes anymore. We then cut to the Todoroki house, where Endeavor greets his three Children With Known Whereabouts and has an unpleasant confrontation with Natsuo, who hasn’t forgiven him despite his seeming change of heart and lets him know that in no uncertain terms. Shouto thoughtfully says that “Endeavor the hero” is amazing, but as far as Endeavor the person goes, his feelings are in line with Natsuo’s. However he wants to see what kind of dad he’ll become from here on out. Endeavor realizes that his new purpose is to secure a good future for his children, and that the only thing he can do is continue to move forward. That night we cut to Deku, who finds himself in a strange dream with his body is covered in black smoke. Shimura and the other OFA users are there as well. And then all of a sudden he’s watching a scene from the past -- All for One standing against his younger brother, the first OFA user.

This chapter is so fucking good and this recap is so fucking long you guys lol. because it’s just so good ahhhhhhh.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 212 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

Izuku got the cover of Jump on account of the BnHA movie premiere! congratulations Izuku

and young All Might is in the upper right hand corner looking like a vintage Ken doll as always and weirding me out

I still like young All Might, but idk you guys, there’s just something about the black sclera that just cranks it up to 11 for me. really is a shame that only happens as a result of his injury

and there’s a page with some blurry clips from the movie, and then this awesome color spread celebrating 4 whole years!

it just hit home that I have less than 30 chapters left until I’m all caught up oh shit

fourth popularity poll! YOU CHUCKLEFUCKS BETTER SHOW MIRIO SOME FUCKING RESPECT THIS TIME AROUND YOU HEAR

I see Bakugou is wearing a clip-on tie here. for fuck’s sake you’re sixteen years old learn to tie the damn thing already

what the actual fuck is happening with Todoroki and Deku’s pants. and for once, not Bakugou’s. like seriously what the hell, this is unnerving

okay guys, poll time: which of these hand gestures indicating the number four is most valid. is it Deku’s, even though he’s doing it with both hands and thus arguably indicating the number eight instead? Ochako, who has the opposite problem and is going for a 2+2=4 thing? or Jirou, who opted to be asymmetrical and do three on one hand and one on the other?

why do only the girls have hats. and did Deku really insist on wearing his trademark red sneaks even though they clash so fucking horribly. why did the others allow this to happen

(ETA: you know what, given the outfits they wore during the A Band performance, they probably did not give one single fuck)

anyway, I love this page from the bottom of my heart, but we came here today to learn more about Dabi’s weird angst and to find out how screwed Hawks is and exactly how hot Endeavor is going to be once that scar heals over. so let’s get to this

so now it’s two days later and Endeavor is all healed up thanks to Recovery Girl! the perks of being a U.A. alum and the number one hero whom everyone now loves

oh mama

okay guys but I need someone to tell me right the fuck now how this man still has an eye. and an eyebrow. you’re telling me they could heal the eyeball just fine but not the rest of his face

(ETA: I actually got an ask explaining this, but I haven’t gotten a chance to take another look at the scene where he gets wounded yet. but thank you anon!)

it looks like he actually did lose half of his mustache though omg

anyways I fucking knew he was going to come out of this just unfairly hot. and just fucking look at him. smdh

as for Miruko, she just fucked right out of there to continue doing her thing afterward. lol I’m glad they bothered to tell us but honestly I wasn’t that curious, that’s basically what I assumed already

son of a bitch

dsflhlk okay JUST STOP, Horikoshi. who the fuck do you think you are making Hawks apologize so fucking casually even though we now know that in truth, he actually is responsible on a level Endeavor has no clue about, and actually has some grounds for feeling guilty even though he wasn’t to blame. like, here he is slyly making it out to be an apology for calling that meeting where they got attacked, even though in reality WE KNOW THE TRUTH

speaking of that meeting, I wonder if Endeavor has put the pieces together yet that Something Was Not Quite Right About That

also what the fuck is in this giant wheely suitcase. is it his suit?

anyway, so he’s telling Hawks that his injuries are his own responsibility

and Hawks is all “ooh that’s a good response, can I use it next time I’m injured”

ah here we go

look, Endeavor may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid

Hawks is all “lmao fuck my life”

well you’ve had two whole days to come up with some kind of story so let’s see what you got. if it were me I’d tie it in to your investigation

he says that they were bound to draw some attention as the #1 and #2 heroes, and they probably just caught the villains’ eye

and he’s thinking to himself that that’s the whole reason why he drew so much attention toward them while they were out, so he’d have an excuse

this sounds considerably less plausible when you just got attacked by a goddamn Noumu though you know. and clearly a new breed of them no less

now Endeavor’s telling him to be careful with his investigation

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to figure out whether this has a double meaning

probably not -- I did say he wasn’t stupid, but I doubt he’s that smart to have figured the whole thing out either. still, this gave me pause lol

(ETA: yeah, on my second readthrough this just reads to me like “if you ever need backup, call me before you go and do anything stupid.” tsundere affection from someone with almost no prior experience in showing that he cares. I don’t think he has any idea what Hawks is really up to, but I think he has an inkling that there’s more going on than meets the eye, and he wants him to be careful.)

Hawks’s reaction is interesting too

and now he’s grinning in that you-like-krabby-patties-don’t-you-squidward way

he just cares about you and you’re young enough to be his son so he’s looking out for you

SPEAKING OF HIS SON are we gonna get to that anytime soon. is that where you’re headed off to now Endeavor? to be with your family? oh to be a fly on the wall during that meeting. oh wait, we’re reading a manga and I’ll literally get to read all about it in just a couple of pages, probably. fuck yeah

so Hawks says that he’ll be back on the job once all his feathers grow back

“it’ll probably be another day or so” holy shit. that’s some crazy fast recovery time

and now he’s bidding Endeavor farewell

...did Endeavor just adopt Hawks too

(ETA: he sure did. this is not a man who just waves at people. this is a dad wave. it’s weird you guys, it’s so fucking weird, but that’s what it is though! at least that’s how I read it)

don’t tell me I’m gonna have to co-parent this in-over-his-head too-smart-for-his-own-good bird child with the world’s second worst dad (yeah, Overhaul’s still got that #1 on lockdown for the rest of eternity though)

now we’re flashing back to that meeting with the cops when they first told Hawks about the undercover assignment

they’re calling it a “proposal” and Hawks is mildly objecting to that term

(ETA: “despite knowing I can’t possibly refuse.” oh my god I have so many feels for this boy. he has no choice in any of this. I just want to wrap him up and keep him safe and just let him rest and chill out and play video games and eat tacos and not have to worry about villains and secrets and keeping his damn guard up all the time and being discovered or killed or getting someone else killed. HORIKOSHI. PROTECT HIM!!)

the woman says she won’t deny that Hawks coincidentally not being in Kamino worked out well for them

oh shit! now we’re cutting to a car accident scene, and at first I thought ‘oh so is this why he wasn’t in Kamino, was he saving these people’ but no!

so this woman basically sponsored him to be a hero then? interesting

holy shiiiiit

so he genuinely does want that, what he was talking about before. but it’s because this is all he’s been doing for his whole life, and it’s simply because he felt obligated to do it because he had the talent and was pushed into the “with great power...” mindset

like, he didn’t really have a choice, is the vibe I’m getting from this? it was the right thing to do and it’s what everyone wanted and he was good at it. but that doesn’t mean it’s what he wanted. but because it’s what was needed, he went ahead and did it

jesus christ. no wonder he can’t muster any genuine starry-eyed enthusiasm for the profession the way all of the other hero characters seem to do. it’s not his dream. it’s his burden

(ETA: yeah so. imagine saving someone’s life when you’re still just a child. being put on the spot and acting without any training, but doing your best because without you these people would die. and imagine that as a reward you’re told you have an obligation to take up the most dangerous occupation there is, and sacrifice your freedom and potentially your life in order to serve the greater good. and having no choice, because you are a good person, and so you can’t just refuse, knowing that there are more lives that you could save.

and as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re a prodigy, young and bold and gifted and living your best life. living a life that many others would envy. but the reality is you’re trapped, with no possible escape in sight other than the precarious hope that one day things will be good enough that your services will no longer be needed.

ladies and gentlemen, if I may hit you up with a blast from the past for one moment, please consider this quote from All Might all the way back in chapter one:

Hawks may have never been much of an All Might fan, but as it turns out, the two of them may have more in common than he ever realized.

yeah, so needless to say I’m watching you very closely Horikoshi, and if you so much as sneeze in a way that looks like you might be considering doing our lost little Icarus any harm, you and I are going to have words.)

and now we are cutting to the Todoroki home!

look at these sweet angels

Endeavor how did it take you so fucking long to realize what you had. you had it so fucking good, dude. these kids are all beautiful and smart and kind and talented and yet you either ignored them or treated them like absolute shit. god, man, you fucked up so bad. this is a second chance that you arguably didn’t deserve! but here you have it anyway! do not fucking waste this, dude

also loving that the Todorokis have such a traditional house but they still have the big flat screen TV right there. because they may be traditional but they still like to watch the cooking channel while they eat

so Endeavor is cautiously saying “long time no see” because you gotta start somewhere, huh

OH MY GOD

AIZAWA DROVE HIM HERE. AND THEN WHAT, JUST STAYED OUTSIDE TO WAIT?

(ETA: because who the hell would want to go and talk to Endeavor when you could stay outside and play with a cat instead)

DID THEY HAVE A MEANINGFUL CONVERSATION ON THE WAY OVER. OR WAS IT QUIET AND AWKWARD. PROBABLY A LITTLE OF COLUMN A AND A LITTLE OF COLUMN B. OH MY GOD. someone better have written fic about it!!

OH MY GOD

TODOROKI SHOUTO IS THE SASSIEST FUCKING CHARACTER IN THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN SERIES CONFIRMED. PACK IT UP BOYS. AIN’T NO ONE EVER GONNA OUTSASS THAT

ENJI I LOVE YOUR FUCKING KIDS SO MUCH YOUR FAMILY IS PERFECT YOU DON’T DESERVE THEM GODDAMN YOU

“JUST BECAUSE YOU HATE HIM”

oh shit Natsu’s getting to his feet and apologizing to Fuyu and saying that he just can’t do this

and he’s walking out the door, but Endeavor’s putting a hand on his shoulder as he leaves and telling him that if he has something to say to go ahead and say it

YOU GO AND PREACH IT, NATSU. YOU DESERVE TO GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST AND HE NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND JUST HOW BADLY HE HURT YOU OR YOU ALL ARE NEVER GONNA HEAL

and I mean, damn. if he didn’t even know Shouto’s favorite food was soba then that basically means he never so much as spent five minutes together with his little brother. Shouto fucking loves soba in the same way Deku loves All Might. it’s probably the purest love in the entire series

yet again the series gives us a glorious scene of Shouto eating food during a time of serious discussion. hungry boi Todoroki Shouto. Todoroki “are you going to finish that” Shouto

and Natsu’s thinking back to what Rei said about Enji trying to face his past and his family head on

but he’s not that forgiving

OH SHIT!?!?

TOUYA. THE FINAL TODOROKI CHILD. AND JUST LIKE WE SUSPECTED, HE IS THE OLDEST

and I get the feeling that whatever happened there is the real reason why Natsu has so much rage built up toward his dad. not that the rest of it wouldn’t be more than enough to make him feel that way, mind. “mom screaming and Shouto crying” holy shit. this family has so many fucking demons

this child needs some hugs people. not from you Endeavor. but maybe Fuyu can go comfort him later. you are valid Natsu and this rage is completely justified. 100%

oh my god this scene, though

this, right here, is the difference between redemption and forgiveness. I’ve essayed about this before. but here it is, vividly on display. Endeavor is actively working toward redeeming himself now, and yet he may never actually be forgiven. he can’t change the past and he can’t erase the hurt emanating from his son. pain that he himself caused. Natsuo may never forgive him, and he’s justified in hating him

but at the same time the only thing Endeavor can do is try anyway to be a better person. he came to all of these realizations much too late, and the damage was already done. but it’s not too late to do whatever he can now. and he clearly is trying to do that

just, it’s such a sad situation, and some really poignant writing, honestly

anyway, Natsuo’s just sarcastically screaming “oh, is that so?” and then storming out and tossing a belated apology over at his sister and thanking her for the food

wonder if he’ll run into Aizawa on his way out. Aizawa will no doubt be in for another interesting conversation with Shouto on the way home. someone write this fucking fic. if they haven’t already. holy shit

now Fuyu is holding her head frustratedly and saying that she was hoping that somehow they would finally able to become a proper family after all this

hey. don’t put this all on Shouto. he has even less reason to forgive Endeavor than Natsuo does. don’t pressure him, let him sort out his own feelings goddammit

...

Todoroki Shouto are you honestly a robot though

now the TV is suddenly cutting to the news and talking about Endeavor! what a fucking coincidence!

and it’s showing all these people giving their opinions after the most recent battle

the newscaster is all, “as you can see, the voices of anxiety haven’t changed”

but! “on the other hand...”

oh my god, Endeavor’s awesome fan now has his own fans. GOOD FOR YOU, CAN’T-YA-SEE-KUN

oh my fucking god

we have reached the point of in-universe memes. this is amazing. this kid’s face is plastered all over the BnHA universe’s version of tumblr. he is the new must-use reaction image. people post their faves struggling followed by “CAN’T YA SEE?!” and they get 100,000 likes. oh my god. this is magnificent

do you all realize what this means. there are memes in the BnHA universe. that means that there is a good likelihood that a number of the U.A. kids, who as we all know have risen to quite the level of fame and prominence themselves in a very short time, have their own memes

the sports festival was broadcast on national fucking television after all. you guys. what is the likelihood that broken-arms Deku became a meme (similar to the way he is in real fucking life). or chained-to-the-podium Bakugou. Bakugou would have been the perfect reaction image for any number of “I don’t want to be here” memes. “when your girlfriend wants to introduce you to her parents but you don’t want to go.” “when you’re in the car and your friend puts on a song you hate and you can’t change it because you don’t have the aux.” “when you’re streaming something and the 30-second ad break comes on and you can’t skip it”

oh my god. Bakugou Katsuki is famous for all the wrong reasons you guys

his mom probably saved all of her favorites and spams him with them constantly

anyways. gotta refocus here lol

so the interviewed people are continuing to gush about the battle. they’re hyped not just about Endeavor, but also Hawks and CYS-kun. “everyone was like, in unison, ‘let’s cheer him on!’ it was crazy!”

so here at least is a little bit of comfort for Endeavor. maybe some broken things can’t be mended, but at least he’s finally learning what it means to be a hero! AFTER TWENTY FIVE YEARS Y’ALL. LATE BLOOMER OR WHAT

-- oh my god!?

he can’t make eye contact while saying it. but he still said it. oh my god

and yet the fact that he made a point of clarifying that he was speaking of Endeavor the hero and not Endeavor his father implies a “but” coming on

yep

what kind of dad. can you become a good dad. you’re finally starting to figure all this shit out, but now here comes the biggest challenge of all

also Shouto is so fucking pure and precious, holy shit. “I haven’t forgiven you for how you tormented mom.” not himself. his mother. he doesn’t even bring his own abuse up. even though he has every right to point out that Endeavor specifically made his life a living hell from the time his quirk developed until the time he went off to high school

and is it because forgiveness for that is not even on the table? or is it because he’s already forgiven him? or is it just that he doesn’t even want to think about it because he’s not ready yet? and I sure hope it’s not because he doesn’t realize just how bad it was, though

just, oh man. so much to unpack here as usual with this family

oh my god Shouto

ENDEAVOR YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS GENTLE, THOUGHTFUL, COMPASSIONATE ANGEL OF A SON

and it’s clear he has no idea what to say in response to that, so he’s just standing there while meanwhile Fuyu is tearing up and telling Shouto she’ll bring him some more soup

holy shit we’re getting Endeavor’s first person thoughts now oh my god

like I said, all of this was brought on by him finally achieving the thing he’d sacrificed everything to achieve, only to come to the stark realization that it wasn’t worth it. at all. so a pretty painful catalyst, all things considered, but if any asshole ever needed that kick in the pants it was this fucker right here

oh fucking shit, fuck me if I’m not getting Endeavor feels oh fuck

“for what reason”, All Might asks. and Endeavor realizes: for our children

oh fuck oh fuck

okay so while I so far have very much liked the delicate way this whole process has been handled as far as his children go, when it comes to his wife that’s a whole nother story. that’s going to be even trickier to pull off, and just. oh boy I’m nervous now

(ETA: still nervous tbh. but I guess we’ll see)

so he’s turning to leave, and Fuyu is like “DAD NOW YOU TOO??”

-- and holy shit, he’s apologizing

for everything

bastard finally got those words out. I can hardly believe it

OH DAMN

FUCK ME IF THAT ISN’T EXACTLY WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME?

holy shit. holy fucking shit this is too damn good and I love it

oh fuck and now we’re cutting back to Heights Alliance. this may just be the one and only time I’ve ever been slightly disappointed to cut back to 1-A and their antics

and we’re cutting back to Deku, who’s wiped out from the day’s training and promptly collapsing into bed upon returning to his room

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE

WHAT THE HELL KIND OF SPOOKY FUCKING DREAM IS THIS. DEKU COVERED IN SOME KIND OF MYSTERIOUS BLACK FIRE??

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHIMURAAAAA

HOLY SHIT, IT’S CLEARLY HER. AND DEKU HAS NEVER SEEN HER FACE BEFORE AND YET THIS IS UNMISTAKABLE

IS THIS THE PAST AVATARS SHIT AGAIN AT LONG LAST?? HOLY SHIT?

OH MY GODDDDDDD

IS THAT ALL MIGHT!?!?!?

and he’s remembering that he’s seen this before. and of course we all recall back during his fight with Shinsou when this happened and he was suddenly able to activate OFA and break Shinsou’s mind control

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HOLY SHITTTTTT

I HAVEN’T CLICKED TO THE NEXT CHAPTER THIS FAST SINCE FUCKING DEKU VS KACCHAN PART TWO. HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!! I’M NOT EVEN GONNA FUCKING ANALYZE ANYTHING, FUTURE ME CAN FUCKING DO THAT. I’M JUST HYPED!! YESSSSSSSS. DEKU’S DAD VS HIS UNCLE LMAO

(ETA: well, future me isn’t going to add anything either, since this recap is long enough as it is. but this really is a great ending to an outstanding chapter you guys)

115 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 6 years

Text

Witch Hazel- Pt.1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: after a million years, it’s finally here guys! my first jeon jungkook series :’)

“For homework this weekend, I want you all to sketch a self-portrait. It can be realistic or abstract, but just make sure it still represents you,” your professor says before dismissing class.

As you shove your sketchbook into your bag and pick up your guitar case, you hear one of your loud classmates, Kim Taehyung, talking with his friend who’s always so quiet in class that you don’t actually know what the fuck his name is. All you know is that he only ever wears oversized hoodies.

“Psst, Jungkook. Wanna draw my face for me?” Taehyung makes a flower pose with his handsome face.

“What’s in it for me?” Hoodie Boy throws his eraser at Taehyung to make him stop, perhaps out of secondhand embarrassment. You snicker silently to yourself as you pass by them to exit the room, but not before they mention something that triggers you.

“I’ll pay for your ticket tonight.”

“And tomorrow night, too, lol.”

“Bitch, I’m not even going to tomorrow’s concert.”

“Then I guess you have time to draw your own face~”

“Wait, Jungkook. I’m busy tomorrow. Really. I have a date, remember?” Taehyung is basically pleading for his life at this point, and you can’t really blame him. Out of the entire class, he’s the only other non-art major besides you, so his drawing abilities are almost as shitty as yours. “And besides, we both know you could spend five minutes on the assignment and it’ll still look better than if I spent an hour on it.”

“Fine,” Hoodie Boy sighs. “I’ll take a ticket to tonight’s concert and a signed album instead. Thanks in advance.”

“Deal… I just don’t understand how you can be so whipped for an idol like Snow. She might have a nice body and a pretty face, but her personality is the worst. Even worse than Y/N’s,” Taehyung spins around to wave at you. “Right?”

“Ew, don’t compare me to her, Tae.” You give him an unimpressed face. The boy literally talks to everyone as if they’re his friend, and it kind of pisses you off.

“But you agree she has a shitty attitude, yeah?”

You notice Hoodie Boy is keeping a close ear out for your opinion on his supposed favorite idol. He accidentally makes eye contact with you for half a second before flailing around to gather his shit into his camo backpack. Were you really that intimidating to make those around you so flustered?

“Her shitty attitude isn’t the problem,” you hum as you walk away before they can bother you some more.

When you arrive home, you only have half an hour before you have to head out again. After tossing your bag and guitar case off to the side, you slip into slightly more fashionable clothes and break out your makeup bag. A quick layering of shadows, winged liner, and falsies paired with contouring and rose lip tint is enough for you to transform out of your barefaced college kid self. With a mask and your signature icy blue lens, you leave once more.

“You’re late, again,” your manager, Kim Seokjin, only sighs as you casually walk into backstage with a nonfat latte in hand. “I’m the one who’s going to be fired if you keep showing up late for soundcheck, Y/N.”

“It’s not my fault, Jin.” You pass your latte over to your cranky manager, who’s long overdue for another caffeine fix. He takes a sip, still glaring at you. “I was held up after class by two cute boys~”

“Cute boys? Y/N, you know you’re not supposed to be-”

“I know, I know. I’m just fucking with you,” you shrug. “All they did was ask me about Snow’s shitty personality. Oh, and apparently they’re coming to the concert tonight.”

“Don’t let them recognize you.” Seokjin finally hands you back your latte after chugging down half of it.

“I’m sure they would’ve said something months ago if they recognized me in class, Jin…” No one at school knows you’re an idol. As a matter of fact, no one in the world is aware that you, Y/N, are the idol with a cold piercing gaze and an even colder personality, Snow. No one except Seokjin, of course. He’s the only one you trust enough. “Besides, taking that art class has improved my makeup disguising skills, so don’t worry~”

“Well speaking of cute boys attending your concert, there are a few other idols that’ll be coming as well, so be careful.”

“Great, because all we need is another dumb dating rumor to get out of hand.” You’ve already experienced far too many of those in your short idol career. As an idol equally looked up to as you are frowned down upon, you’re pretty much at the center of every rumor or scandal. And it fucking sucks.

“Just try to stay positive about it, and don’t put yourself in a situation that the media can take advantage of, okay?” Seokjin has a worried look in his eyes—not for his own sake, but for yours. It’s his genuine tenderness and concern for you that keep you from walking away.

“Okay…”

The concert goes as usual. There are no technical difficulties, your vocals are on point, and nothing scandalous happens on stage. But at what cost?

Fan engagement is always kept at a minimum—the most fanservice you can offer is a split second of eye contact while you’re singing. You often wonder why anyone would want to see you perform live when there’s an invisible yet obvious wall standing between the stage and the audience. Like Seokjin advised, your company is doing what they can to ensure that their loose cannon idol stays out of any potential problematic situations.

But this distance doesn’t simply go away after your concerts. If it did, you wouldn’t be known as the Ice Queen, and your personal life wouldn’t be such a mystery to everyone. And for that, you cannot even put the full blame on the strict rules of your company. A large part of you appreciates the privacy that comes with this distance. Even if it is a little selfish and unfair to those who only wish to support you and your music.

As your concert comes to a close, you’re finally given the opportunity to address the dedicated fans who came out to see your performance.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” I’m sorry if it feels like you’ve wasted your money and time.

“A lot of you might be busy with school and studying right now, but you still made time for me.” I know because I too am a student.

“That means a lot, even to an Ice Queen.” I know what my reputation is, but please remember I’m human as well. I’m really grateful even if my resting bitch face doesn’t reflect that.

“Let’s meet again next time.” Next time, I’ll try to show a better version of Snow.

“Good night, everyone. Please get home safely~” I hope I was able to make you guys smile at least a little bit.

On your way out, you do your best to avoid both the media and the crowd. If you’re quick enough, you’ll be able to make it home in peace. Tonight is not that night, however.

You don’t even get outside of the venue before you see two familiar faces from class sitting on the stairs near one of the exits: Taehyung and Hoodie Boy. This is exactly why you never take off your makeup or lens until after you’re home where you don’t have to face anyone.

Of course it’s the loud one who approaches you. Hoodie Boy stays put on the stairs and watches from afar. You give them a halfhearted wave in hopes that that’s all they want, but of course it’s not.

“My friend is a huge fan of yours, Snow,” Taehyung lowkey pointed his thumb back at Hoodie Boy. He pulled out a copy of your latest album and a black sharpie. “Of course I love your music too, but would it be alright for me to get an autograph for him? He said he didn’t want to bother you himself.”

Usually you’d refuse. Whenever people say their “friend” is a fan, you get the impression that they’re just too ashamed to identify themselves as a fan of you. Like they don’t want to be associated with the kind of idol that you are.

But you’re certain that Taehyung is telling the truth since you heard that same promise being made earlier in class. And you know how shy Hoodie Boy is. So just this once, you’ll allow it.

You take the boy’s album and pen. “What’s your friend’s name?” You want to know, not only so you could write his name out, but also so you could stop calling him Hoodie Boy.

“Taehyung,” he says in a rather hushed voice.

“Taehyung?” That asshole. You glance over at Hoodie Boy just for a second. He’s busy taking pictures on his phone—not of you, but of the now empty venue. You feel bad, but there’s not much you can do besides sign the album to “Taehyung”. As you hand back the album, an idea pops up, “May I ask what your name is?”

“Me? Uhh-” You catch Taehyung off guard. “It’s Jungkook.” The name sounds familiar to you.

You nod and pull out a spare album from your bag to sign for Jungkook. You even decide to get a little fancy and draw a cute heart next to his name, just to spite Taehyung. “Here,” you say, looking back at the real Jungkook once more, only to find that yet another unwanted visitor had appeared. In moments like this, you question your decision to become an idol despite hating the attention.

Quickly you shoo away your classmates before the media shows up. You wouldn't want there to be another “misunderstanding”. The other boy now approaching you is already more than you’d prefer.

With his bleached ash blonde hair and an expensive yet casual fashion, you recognize him as fellow idol, Park Jimin, aka Korea’s Sweetheart. If you’re the devil, he’s most certainly an angel.

You’ve never spoken to the boy, but you’ve seen him at music shows plenty of times and have even competed against him for several awards. The two of you are “rivals”, or at least that’s how the media loves to phrase it. To you, there is no such rivalry; it’s clear that Jimin is the likable one. Your name is only ever placed next to his to generate newsworthy content.

“Is it really a good idea to visit your rival at her concert?” You don’t know how else to welcome the unwelcomed idol.

“It’s always good to scout out the competition,” Jimin shrugs, going along with your unfriendly greeting. “But for real, the concert was a lot of fun.” He glows with sparkles in his eyes. You can’t deny he has the most gorgeous smile.

“I’m glad…” It’s reassuring to hear compliments, especially from a fellow idol. But at the same time, you know Korea’s Sweetheart would never say anything rude—even if he feels differently. He’s perfect, after all.

“Anyway, I heard from the boy in the black hoodie that you’re handing out free autographs?” Jimin tries to point back at Jungkook, but he and Taehyung have already vanished. “I thought you were notorious for refusing autographs?” He pokes fun at you, but not in a way that annoys you like Taehyung had.

“They were bothering me and that was the easiest way to get them to leave,” you explain in half-truth. “Should I give you one too? It’d be better for you to leave before the media shows up.”

“Only if you have a stash of albums hiding in your bag.”

“I don’t.”

“Why did you happen to have one with you?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I’m just curious. Idols don’t just carry around their own albums like that.”

“…My friend gave it to me,” you say after a moment of hesitation. That isn’t a lie, but a vague truth.

“Your friend gave it to you as a gift, and you just gave it away to a stranger?” Jimin chuckles, amused by you for whatever reason. “Living up to your reputation as Ice Queen, huh.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You hate when other people call you that, and you hate it even more when they aren’t wrong.

“I’m just kidding, Snow.” The way he smiles while speaking is so mesmerizing that you almost forgive him. “I know you did it with good intentions. And because of that, those two boys were able to leave here with a smile.”

“Good.” Your expression softens. “Anyway, did you need something or…?”

“I just wanted to say hi before heading home,” Jimin shook his head. “But let’s hangout some time, yeah?” He waves farewell and leaves before you can properly reject him.

On your way home, however, you take the time to consider the boy’s offer again. Truthfully, it would be a nice opportunity, especially since you don’t have any friends besides Seokjin. Plus, Jimin is pretty fucking attractive in your eyes.

But the conclusion you come to remains the same. There’s no way you can say yes.

By the time you finally return home, it’s late, you’re exhausted, but you still have that self-portrait to draw. In all honesty, you’re quite jealous of Taehyung who has a friend willing to do the work for him. If anything, Jungkook should draw your face, since you were the one who ultimately ensured that he got his signed album. But that’s just you being salty.

You pull out your sketchbook and pens and stare into the oval mirror that hangs from your bedroom wall. Your eye makeup is smudged, your dark circles are prominent through the fading concealer, and your eyes are as icy as ever. To finish your homework as soon as possible, you don’t overthink anything and just draw what you see. At this point you just want to get it over with so you can roll into bed and laze around.

“Finally~” you squeal about an hour later, plopping yourself onto your bed in your pink penguin pajamas. You’re always in a more cheerful mood after taking a shower, so you snuggle up under your blankets and take the time to check up on social media before dozing off. This wouldn’t be the first mistake of the night.

According to the latest news that has blown up on Twitter, you’re apparently dating and fucking Park Jimin, who made a special trip just to see you, his secret lover. How. Fucking. Romantic. You laugh because you notice a confused Jungkook with his hoodie and album in the shadowy background of the tabloid photo. But other than that, you’re pissed.

You want to post a tweet to express your outrage over the dumb rumor, but those kinds of messages need to pass through PR first, and you’re sure as fuck your company’s not going to approve of anything you have to say. As always, they’d just rewrite your statement in a more civilized manor, and at that point, it’s no longer your words.

So instead, you move away from the toxic hellsite that is Twitter and move somewhere a little more tranquil. You wish you could just find a few posts about fans who enjoyed the concert—that would be enough to set your mind at ease. It isn’t easy, considering all of the positive posts are buried beneath the massive amount of shit you’re getting for sleeping with the Park Jimin, but you eventually reach a cute blog post.

“guys! i saw snow tonight and shes so pretty😭💕”

“her vocals? fUCK. yes pls”

“also she might have rbf but shes super sweet ok”

“btw new fanfic coming tomorrow bc i was suddenly inspired lol👋”

You’re not sure how to feel about being the central subject to someone else’s fictional fantasies, but you do really love that you’ve inspired this person. Being able to have a positive impact in someone’s life; that was perhaps the deciding factor for you to walk the path of an idol. You only hope that this rewarding feeling can outweigh all of the bad.

Before closing your eyes, you check the name of the blog: jk.seagull. What a funny name, you giggle to yourself. But at least there’s someone out there who’s able to make your cold-hearted soul laugh. And for that, you’re as grateful to that person as your fans are to Snow.

7:27AM jinnie❤️ “We have to cancel today’s concert.”

7:28AM jinnie❤️ “There have been multiple threats made against you overnight after that rumor broke out, so we believe this is the safest thing to do.”

7:31AM Y/N “at least now i have more time to spend with my boyfriend park jimin~”

7:32AM Y/N “(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻”

7:33AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N, just take it easy today, okay? I’ll keep you updated on everything.”

7:35AM jinnie❤️ “Let me know if you want to talk.”

7:40AM Y/N “can you come over now?”

7:41AM Y/N “and can you bring another album please?”

You roll out of bed much earlier than expected to change out of your pink penguin pajamas and into sweats. Usually, you’d kill time by scrolling through Twitter, but since you aren’t in the mood to see all of the death threats, you decide to check up on that jk.seagull blog instead. You’re delighted to see that there’s a new post waiting for you. It’s a comic of some sort.

The first thing you see is a cute drawing of a pouty magic girl with bright blue eyes and a tiny snowflake in her palms. You’ve never seen fanart of Snow before, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of detail and effort put into the drawing. It looks a lot like you, except cuter.

What impresses you even more is the storyline of the comic. Snow is a powerful ice witch who wishes to protect the world from evil. The only problem is that the world fears her and bans her from using magic. Rather than shunning the world that has shunned her, she decides to find new ways to be a positive light for others without the use of magic. She decides there are other ways to be a hero.

You want to keep reading, but there’s a knock at your door.

“Ooh, pancakes~” you sniff the plastic bag of sweets that your manager hands to you as you sit him down on your couch. “Thanks, Jin~”

“You’re in a rather good mood, despite all the shit that’s been going on,” Seokjin says, putting a warm hand against your forehead to make sure you’re not sick.

“I just read an interesting fanfic.”

“You read fanfics?”

“Not usually, but this one was super cute by this funny person named jk.seagull.”

“jk.seagull? He’s a pretty popular writer and artist for Snow fanfiction, you know.”

“How would you know that? Are you saying you read smutty fanfics about me, Kim Seokjin?” you smirk.

“I never said anything about smut!” He gets overly dramatic whenever you tease him, but you always find it adorable.

“So anyway, has anyone addressed the dating rumors yet?”

“Jimin apologized for the misunderstanding, but that’s all so far.”

“We shouldn’t have to apologize.” You take an angry bite of the pancakes. “I’ll deny the rumor, but I’m not going to apologize for something that didn’t happen.”

“Look Y/N, I understand, okay? But you should at least relay a statement to PR so you can clear things up on your end.”

“Just tell them I’m sorry for interacting with another human and I’ll never do it again.”

“Y/N…”

“What, Jin? It’s bullshit. I can’t do anything without it being twisted into something scandalous and getting a shit ton of hate for it. And the company isn’t even trying to help. The only reason they want me to apologize is to save their own asses, not mine.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Seokjin speaks in his calm voice.

“I want a break,” you sigh. What’s the point of being an idol if you’re doing more harm than good?

“I’ll ask the CEO on your behalf,” Seokjin pinches your cheek. “So cheer up.” He hands you the album you requested before heading out to give you some space to think.

The rest of the day is spent being a sad potato. You honestly don’t mind the threats or rumors by themselves, but what irks you is the fact that you’re not the idol you hoped to be. You’re not a light that people look to when they’re feeling down. You’re not someone who’s made a positive impact on the world. You’re no one’s hero.

You pick up your phone and go back to jk.seagull’s comic and reread everything that’s posted so far. You’re not sure why, but it’s as if this comic understands you—not just you as Snow, but also you as Y/N. The only difference is that the Snow portrayed in the comic is a much better version of yourself; a version you’re not sure you can achieve.

One other thing you don’t yet comprehend about the comic is the title: Witch Hazel. Who would ever name a story after skincare products? Then again, who would ever name himself jk.seagull?

After looking over Witch Hazel once more, you’re finally done being a sad potato and log back onto Twitter. You link the comic to tweet and post it out to the world. No caption is attached to the tweet. You want the comic to speak for itself.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts college au #bts idol au #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook #bangtan #bts #witch hazel

895 notes · View notes