#Mina tells him to remember their journey back and how beautiful it was | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beclynn-herondale · 3 years

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Jace, Kit, and Mina shenanigans

Jace was visiting with Kit; Clary was spending time with her mother and Luke, as she always did when Jace went on his monthly visit to Kit. And they would tell each other all about their day when they went to bed together that night.

Jace would never have said it out loud but he wanted Kit to rely on him and need him, he wanted to be needed by him. He wanted Kit to trust him, but more than that he wanted Kit to know he really did care for him.

Tessa had also recently had her baby, Mina. She had said Jace should come by and meet her.

Tessa and Jem were good people, and Jace just hoped Kit wouldn't be like he was and push away from his found family, and hold them at a far distance. But he remembered people had to follow their own journey and learn things for themselves. He just wanted Kit to be happy. But Jace also knew, like him, Kit had some baggage and it made it difficult.

"Jace?" said Kit. They were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

"Yeah. . .?" he said, realizing he hadn't been listening for the last few minutes.

"You didn't hear what I said, did you?" Kit sighed.

"I was zoning out thinking of interesting things," he teased.

"Probably not that interesting, considering it's you," Kit shot back playfully.

Jace grinned. This kid would be just fine, he thought.

"So," said Jace, "you're a big brother now."

"Yup. And I'll be great at it."

"There you go. There's the Herondale in you."

Kit stared at him with amusement, then said, "Tessa says you should hold Min Min."

"Min Min? Is that a another nickname of hers?" If so Jace had to admit it was very cute.

"Yes. She has many nicknames," said Kit. "Because she is adorable."

"Kids and babies usually are."

Kit looked up. "You like kids, don't you?"

"They're alright."

Kit looked at him suspiciously. "Uh, huh." He then asked. "Well, are you and your hot fiancée Clary gonna have any?"

Jace choked on his tea. "What—what?" He thought he was probably flushing, as Clary always made him do even when she wasn't around. And Kit calling Clary that should be weird but he wasn't wrong, Clary was hot and his fiancée.

"Just saying, I'd make an amazing babysitter," Kit winked. "And I could teach your children all about memes and the future stuff, as well as turn them into my side. along with Mina. of course. They would be the best generation yet."

"Pffft," Jace let out.

It's true Jace and Clary had talked about having kids, but it was never a definite serious talk. Though Jace did want kids. "Why are you asking me this?"

"No reason."

"Uh, huh," he said. That was their thing, 'Uh, huh.'

Jem walked in then, holding who Jace assumed was Mina. "Hello, Jace," said Jem. "How are you?" He was smiling the warm smile that he he always had these days; Jace had thought it was the kind of smile that made you want to open up and trust. Jem was that kind of person who radiated kindness and warmth and goodness.

"I'm doing just fine," he said. "What about you?"

"I am amazing," he exclaimed. "Silly melon, is so beautiful and precious." Another cute nickname, he thought. "Would you like to hold her?" Jem asked.

"I. . .uh. . .sure," Jace said, hearing the unsureness his own voice, not knowing why it was there. Jem placed Mina in his arms; he couldn't help but remember holding Max for the first time, remembering that for the first time he had been absolutely terrified. Babies had always seemed so small and fragile to him, and at that time he had no idea how they worked. Of course, after Max Jace figured out that as he had said, they were tough. Max was not so little anymore, and now was on about killing all the demins, Jace was a very proud uncle. He looked down at Mina, she looked like Jem, he thought, but he could see Tessa as well. "Hello, Mina," he said.

The baby opened her eyes, looking up at Jace with an expression of curiosity. well, he assumed that's what it was. "curious are we?"

"She is," Kit put in. It was such a sibling thing, he thought.

Jem was watching the three of them with fondness, and a little sadness. Jace wondered if he was thinking of his parabatai Will Herondale; Jem had told Jace about him, and couldn't imagine not having Alec or being alive without Alec. It had made Jace feel a deep kind of sympathy for Jem.

Jace repositioned Mina in his arms so he could look her in the eyes. "So," he said. "Are you going to prank and trick your big brother?"

Kit stuck his tongue out at Jace, and Jace rewarded Kit by sticking his own tongue out right back at him.

Mina giggled, Jace felt his heart skip a beat. He'd made her giggle. It reminded Jace of hearing Max giggle for the first time, it had instantly defeated Jace, in a sense. Blueberry had had a place in Jace's heart from the beginning, Jace couldn't help but want to protect him, it had been the same with Rafe, and even young Emma and her braveness. And Jace thought it would probably be the same with Kit and Mina; he had a soft spot for kids. He had also realized that he had cared for Max, his little brother, the same. But that was a place that Jace tried not to venture to, as it only broke his heart all over again. Jace remembered how Izzy had told him that Max died clutching the toy soldier he'd given him all those years ago, it had shaken Jace. Max's death would always leave a missing piece in their family.

"I take that giggle as a yes," he said.

Jem laughed softly.

"Or," Kit said, "we might prank you endlessly and be chaotic rascals that haunt you."

"Bring it on, Kittiroo," Jace said, using the nickname he had for Kit. Knowing it was longer than his actual nickname but he gave a nickname to kids he liked. And Kit liked it, but would never admit it, ever.

"Whatever, Jacey Jace," he said.

They laughed.

——————

[ Two years later ]

Mina was now two, which meant her and her big brother Kit were up to no good when they came to visit or Jace went to visit them.

They both enjoyed playing tricks on Jace. And to think he made them cookies and tea. And played piano for them.

Jace was walking down one of the Institute corridors, looking through the open doors along their walls, trying to see if he could find the little trouble makers.

He was peering through one of the empty rooms when something came up behind him and said "Boo!"

He turned around, pretended to be scared as he saw it was little Mina. "Oh, you got me," he said.

She laughed. "I always get you."

He smiled at her. "Where's Kit?"

She shrugged.

"Little loyal one, you are," he said. "But if you tell me where he is, I'll give you a cookie."

Mina seemed to be considering this. "Come," she said.

Mina led him to another empty room, where they found Kit.

"Traitor!" he said.

"It's not her fault—" Jace began.

"Not Mina. You," Kit pointed. "I know you bribed her with cookies. You know we can't resist cookies."

"What can I say," said Jace. "I'm a master at bribery."

"Uh, huh," Kit said with a kind of sassy sarcasm. Kit also said 'Uh, huh.' in a way to say he is amused but very doubtful

"Hey, man. I can't help it, cookies are good," said Mina.

"It's not your fault, Min Min," said Kit. "It's the bad man's fault."

Jace gasped in pretend hurt. "The very implicaction of that is hurtful."

"Good," Kit said.

And Jace went over to lift the boy up. "You forget I'm bigger and stronger than you."

"No!" exclaimed Kit, but he was laughing, and Jace always liked to hear him laugh out loud.

"Fight him off, Kit," said Mina.

They ended up wrestling on the floor with Mina cheering for Kit like the loyal sister she was. Them when they were both tired they burst into laughter.

——————

Kit, Jace, and Mina were sitting on a couch while Jem talked about reincarnation; 2 old Mina wore a serious face for her age.

"You see this is why I believe in it so strongly," said Jem, beaming.

"Yes, I see," said Jace.

"It is interesting," Kit said.

Mina nodded.

"Just think about it," Jem said, "you come back in a different form or something new after you die."

Jace wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, and by the look on Kit's face it appeared he felt the same.

"So is that why I'm so exhausted?" asked Kit, "because I've lived so many lives? And keep doing this shit again?"

It was a fair question to ask, Jace thought.

"Kit, no," said Jem. "And don't say that word in front of Min Min."

"Alec says something like that to me all the time," Jace put in. "Except it's usually 'Jace no!'"

"Yeh, well, you're both chaotic dum dums," said Mina.

They all looked at her.

"Wat?" she said.

Jem seemed to be wearing a look of amused agreement.

She was two and yet so smart, and had so many words at times.

"I prefer the term not afraid to take chances," said Jace.

"It's a Herondale thing," put in Kit.

Jace grinned at him. "There you go, bud."

Mina rolled her eyes, she also had a lot of sass for her age. Jem stared at them with a sort of affectionate exasperation.

——————

Jace was sitting beside Kit while he showed him memes and what they meant. Mina came to sit down beside them.

"Jace," she said.

"Yeah, Mina?"

"So you're like my great kind of nephew, right?"

"Great great great or something, yeah."

"So than I am like your great something aunt?"

"Yeah. . ." This would never not be weird.

"Does that mean I get to boss you around?"

Jace didn't know what to say to this.

Kit looked up from his screen. "Wait, does that mean technically I'm your adoptive great something uncle, now?"

"I. . ." Jace had to admit he didn't know what to say to any of this. "Are you two trying to confuse me?" he asked.

They both grinned mischievously.

Jace sighed.

"Hey, dear Nephew," Kit said. "Make me some cookies."

"Dear Nephew," Mina added. "Get us tea."

"You two think you're hilarious."

"Wrong," said Kit, "we know we're hilarious."

"Yeah well," Jace said, pulling them both into the hug, "I'd like to see you get free from my hug."

"No!" They both exclaimed, then tried to get free which turned into laughter from them all.

——————

Jace heard his phone buzz. He looked at it and saw that it was a message from Kit, he'd sent Jace a meme. Jace didn't always understand them, but apparently they were like jokes. He replied with laughing emojis.

He exited his messaging app and stared his phone background; it was a picture of Max, Rafe, Mina, and Kit in the art room with Clary, who was teaching them to paint. He smiled at it. It was odd to say, but they were his kids in a way and he felt this strong urge to protect them from the world that would try to shut out their light.

He remembered the first time Kit had seen he'd taken picture and used it as his phone background. Kit looked surprised, as if he couldn't think of why Jace would do that. Jace ruffled his hair and quoted one of his memes to him that day. Kit liked to communicate with memes, and so Jace tried his best. Kit had also called Jace a mom a few times, though he wasn't sure why.

His phone buzzed again. This time it was Emma, her message said, "We need to form the sword-blondes club *winking emoji*" Jace couldn't help but laugh, then replied, "The world would've be able to handle that."

He had so many kids and young people who were dear to him now. Sometimes he thought back to his old self, who didn't have much of anyone and who believed that love was weakness. But now, when he looked at these kids, he knew that was lie. Now, he knew he was strongest because of love. He barely remembered it, but thought about the time he first met Jem, he'd been Brother Zachariah then. He'd told him, 'We fight best when that which we love is on the line.' or something along those words. It made Jace smile, to think somehow all this connected, the universe was a strange thing.

He then looked down at the engagement ring on his left ring finger. At some point him and Clary would work toward building a family, and have kids of their own. It both excited and frightened Jace; he wanted to be a father, of course. But he didn't want to snap one day and see his father come out, he didn't want his children to ever have to see something like that. Clary told him he wouldn't be like that, and she was always right, usually. These kids in his life now though, he felt were proof that he could be a good father.

He opened his phone back up and texted Kit a meme.

He was rewarded with, "Well, I'll be damed. He's learning!"

Jace replied with, "Watch your language."

"You watch your own language, Mr. acts like my parent."

Jace laughed. Kids were so odd yet so precious, they were the future, he thought.

Tagging: especially @khaleesiofalicante because she is having Jace and Kit feels, and I think she'll appreciate this. @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys

#jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #kit herondale #mina carstairs #jem carstairs #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #tda #twp #tsc fanfiction #tmi fanfics #gotsm #bec's fanfics #clace #clary fairchild

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

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Thigh Highs (Part 2)

Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto (bonus!)

Genre: Spice 😏 College AU!

Scenario: Your boyfriend sees you wearing thigh high socks for the first time in your relationship.

PART 1

Word count: 1,655

Tags: @cyanide9602 @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Here’s 2 more best boys Sharkbabe and Shinboi, and a small spicier Todo scenario for my fellow Shouto simps 😉 Here are some more boys simping over thicc thighs. Enjoy the spice before I post some angst 😁

And yes, it’s always Todoroki thirst hours hush

Kirishima Eijirou

You have nothing better to do this weekend; assignments are all finished, exams were done for the week, and you really don’t feel like watching or reading anything new. That last one is particularly because your boyfriend is off doing who-knows-what with his friends. Thinking about it leaves a frown on your face. It’s not that you don’t want your boyfriend to have friends - in fact, you were the one who had told him that he was spending too much time with you and he was abandoning his other relationships - but now he was taking it overboard; the entire week he was with his bros and paid no attention to you!

So here you are, rummaging through your closet and drawers putting together some outfits to wear for the rest of the school year just to make yourself feel better. At least you can look hot waiting for your boyfriend to come back. You decide to try out a few outfits to match your thigh high socks since you’ve always wanted to try wearing them out instead of just sleeping with them. A few Instagram posts of them with shorts had caught your fancy, so what’s stopping you from pulling it off?

As you thought, standing in front of the mirror displayed a cute casual outfit that shows off your legs nicely, even if there is a slight digging into your thighs at the tops (thank you thickness). Playing around with a few poses in front of the mirror led to you taking some pictures on your phone, just in case you needed to remind yourself of the outfits.

And then a splendid idea flashes through your mind. Pulling up a chair in front of your mirror, you sit down and cross your legs.

Oh my.

The energy this pose exudes is confident, taunting, a classic boss bitch.

And, with a devious smile on your face, you know exactly how you want to use this power. You send two of the best pictures of you in this position to Kirishima without a caption. Let’s see what he’s gonna do now.

Not even five minutes later, without so much as a reply, there’s a firm knock at your door. As soon as you open it, Kirishima whooshes into your room, easily lifting you up in his arms and slamming the door behind him before tossing you onto your bed and hovering over you. His scarlet orbs flash dangerously, boring into yours and effectively sending a shiver through your body.

“I didn’t know you were so sneaky, babe,” he smirks, leaning even closer to your face, pulling you closer to him using his harsh grip under your thighs, “Sending me a picture like that knowing it would rile me up.” He places a single searing kiss on your lips before trailing down to your neck, your collarbone, lifting your shirt to place more down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. “Such a tease. You know how much I love these thighs.”

Between his voice lowering an octave and the vibrations and kisses against your soft skin, you quiver and squeak out his name only to yelp when his sharp teeth replace his lips. “No one can see you in these besides me. Don’t flaunt your legs for anyone else.” Kirishima leaves more bites along your sensitive, plush inner thighs, marking you as his. He chuckles darkly feeling your fingers grip his hair, bringing his head level back to yours with a cocky smirk. “Were you looking for my attention, babe? Looks like you can’t handle it.”

Shinsou Hitoshi

"Can we not talk about class anymore? I wanna just sleep and cuddle." Shinsou's arm over your torso hugs you closer to his body. His heavy eyelids close and his nose burrows into the crook of your neck.

"You're right, this week was a drag," you chuckle, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair. "Sleep was nonexistent for both of us."

After the week we've had, it would be an understatement to say we want to sleep the entire weekend away, just to follow the entire routine over again next week, and the next and the next until Finals come up.

I sit up from my bed. "I wanna show you something, you might like it."

Which is why I believe in breaking up the mundane with a few tricks sometimes.

You tear yourself away from his warmth and roll off the bed, approaching your drawers. Shinsou lets out a groan from your withdrawal, but keeps his eyes closed. Poor boy must be tired, you think, Maybe this will cheer him up. You had seen the cutest pair of thigh socks online that reminded you of your soft, cat-obsessed boyfriend and secretly bought them for an occasion like today where he needed to be cheered up.

You slid them on and stood at the edge of the bed where your boyfriend still has his eyes closed. Clasping your hands behind your back and trying to suppress the smile on your face, you clear your throat. “What do you think?”

He cracks an eye open lazily before darting up and blatantly staring at my legs, making me chuckle at his wide eyes. The socks I found are plain black, but at the top are cat faces complete with yellow eyes, whiskers, a nose, and triangular ears. Running his tongue across his bottom lip, Shinsou glances up at me before flickering back down. “Why don’t you come over here so I can see them better.”

You crawl back onto the bed, legs outstretched in front of you towards your boyfriend.

But he shakes his head and hums. “Still too far away, come closer.” His large, warm hands grip my hips and pull me over so I’m straddling his waist. “Much better.”

I rest my arms around his shoulders, heat rising to my cheeks as caresses the tops of my socks. “So? Do you like them?”

His fingers tug the material. “They’re cute, I admit. And soft like a cat.” The digits ghost up farther towards the middle of my thighs to draw circles on them. “But I think these are much softer.” Stroking the skin and grasping some of the plushness, “They do make your legs look more delicious than usual.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, tightening your grip around his neck and turning your face away. “This isn’t the response I was expecting.”

Shinsou uses the opportunity to latch his lips to your neck. “Didn’t think you’d rile me up from a pair of socks?” His thumbs slide under your shorts, squeezing more of your thighs and massaging them. “I haven’t had my way with you for almost a week.” He journeys farther down right in the center of your collarbone. “There’s a lot of pent up frustration in me, and you look too cute for me not to have fun with you now.”

Todoroki Shouto (Bonus scenario!)

You had just discovered the beauty and allure of thigh high socks thanks to Mina. Putting a pair on was the most magical thing you could have done, and you had to take at least 50 photos of you in them in so many poses, much to your boyfriend’s chagrin. You’d spent the last ten minutes away from his warmth, leaving him impatient as he watches you enjoy yourself. All by yourself, ignoring his personal opinion on your new fashion choice. Todoroki has all the love and patience in the world, but he finds his frustration slowly creeping up on him.

“Love, are you finished yet?”

“Wait, Sho, I just got an idea.” You pull your chair up to your mirror, sit down, and cross your legs.

Todoroki blood rushes all over his body at an otherwise innocent position, the room suddenly a degree hotter.

He can’t take it anymore.

Rising up from your bed, he strolls over to you and stands behind your unsuspecting figure, still buzzing with excitement over how amazing you look. “Darling, I think I know the perfect picture you should take,” he states in his normally smooth voice.

You turn around with your innocent, wide grin. “Really? Tell me!”

He takes your hand to move you out of the chair before sitting on it himself and tapping his leg. Tugging your arm down to lean into your ear, his voice drops an octave. “Come sit in my lap, baby.”

In that instant, your body ignites, responding immediately to his suggestion and taking your seat on him. His warm hands rest right above your hips as you cross your legs again. To say the image looks hot would be an understatement. You’re frozen, captivated by what’s staring back at you.

“Are my hands okay here?” Your boyfriend’s breath fans your ear. “Or should I move them?” You watch as one skids down to rest on one of your thighs, the other sliding up to your waist as his pinky drags the edge of your shirt up to reveal your skin underneath.

“Sh-Shouto,” you squeak, pressing your legs closer together as heat rushing through your body.

His hot lips brush right under the sensitive spot under your ear. “I thought you wanted a good picture?” Butterfly kisses slowly trace down your skin. “Take it,” the command barely a whisper tickling your skin while his hands grip you tighter. “So you remember who holds you like this, who makes you flustered.”

Your shaky hands press the button, mind clouding over, right before he nips your nape and your hand flies down to grab his hand on your thigh. Your body is on fire when you turn around, pushing your body flush to his. Disregarding your phone, you steal Todoroki’s lips desperately, and he smirks at your behavior while his hands squeeze that space where your thighs join your butt. “Finally got your attention,” he chuckles, realizing his neediness finally reached you as well.

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totallytododeku · 4 years

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☁ studying together ( x reader hc's) ☁

characters: midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, yaoyorozu, uraraka, + ashido

genre: fluff <33

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

I. Midoriya 🌳🍀🌻

this poor boy is so excited to be spending time with you

but he will not take his nose out of his textbook

he can't help it

he's so happy to be in the hero course he takes his schoolwork a little too seriously

however, you can use this to your advantage ;)

normally you're almost as invested in his journey to becoming the next Symbol of Peace and achieving his dream as he is

and you would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize it

So you were silently bouncing off the walls with glee when you realized he was impervious to distractions when it came to studying

literally anything is fair game

which is why studying with him is your new favorite time of day

pet his hair

kiss his cheeks

climb into his lap

pat his head

hold his non-dominant hand

hug him from behind his chair

rest your head on his shoulder and take a nap

do whatever you want

you can basically do anything to him while he's studying without having to worry about distracting him

he will blush a little bit of you kiss him but but you think it's adorable

lol turn on whatever tv or music you want

but only if you're done with your work!!

hes very adamant that you keep up with your work as best you can do you can graduate side by side and be pro heroes together someday

K. Bakugou 💣💥 📢

he would totally be the one to invite you to study and he would probably want to study in his dorm

it's super quiet and nobody will bother you guys because they know it's that spiky gremlin's room

overall his room just has a really relaxing atmosphere

you love being near him as much as possible

and he's much more affectionate in the comfort of his dorm room

but that doesn't mean he's gonna go easy on u ;-;

he still has his gruff attitude and will make sure you're studying every day

or else he will call u baka and force you to sit down and study until you know all your material

he's actually a great tutor tho

he writes out all the work for each problem and explains them thoroughly

all while holding in you in his arms while you sit in his lap

sometimes you can convince him to play a game with you where every time you get an answer right he gives you a kiss

but you whine when you get one wrong and he won't kiss you

he huffs before giving you a kiss while still trying to look annoyed

stupid girl he mutters

but he pulls you a bit closer to him to hide his blush and moves on to the next problem despite your giggles

S. Todoroki ❄🔥🍜

he doesn't really need to study but he doesn't know how to just .. relax

like he doesn't know how to not do what his dad tells him to do

and his dad wants him to study

it's just easier for Todoroki to do what his dad wants than to rebel

that is, it was

Until he met you and the dekusquad

obviously everyone cares about their homework and wants to graduate well and go Plus Ultra!

but study sessions with Todoroki usually end up just being you guys trying to help him be less hard on himself while you have him as a captive audience

he doesn't really mind, though, especially when it's just you two

the intimacy of studying together in comfortable silence and just

enjoying each other's company

makes his heart go (*￣∇￣*)

like i said he doesn't really need to study so he'll just end up helping you review material

please just ... hold his hand :)

after you're done studying for the day just pull him into a hug and over to your bed

he needs a nap

you feel warm fuzzies inside from how caring he's been to sit with you while you finished your homework and bring you warm tea

you don't even think you just

Time for cuddles :3

it becomes your daily ritual to study together and then cuddle

he always falls asleep in your arms with a small smile

E. Kirishima 🗿🗿🗿

(HAHAHSHNSJ THE 🗿 EMOJI OMG I'M LITERALLY SO FUNNY LOL I'M CRYING)

"Okay, Y/N, let's study hard and do our homework like men!" *fist-pumping the air and grinning like an idiot*

"...what's so funny? "

he doesn't care if you're not a man it's his trademark

he likes to study at his desk because he says it's "important to stay focused and work diligently"

generally he is the least focused person, ever. besides kaminari.

however, he's so energetic and enthusiastic that once you sit down and start studying he'll be able to keep your motivation up until you've finished all your homework

GREAT at studying for tests and quizzes (in theory)

he will never give up

like I said he could keep studying for hours once he sets his mind to it

So you have to compromise and get him to study in short bursts throughout the day to help him have a better chance of remembering anything ;-;

his memory is not great but it's kinda cute

you, being the smart cookie that u are, realized the best way to help him memorize things was to study with flashcards frequently throughout the weekend while doing other activities

so you plan to hang out together and do something fun every week while having your study material on index cards in your back pockets

it's a literal study date.

a weekly date out to the mall or the park or a little coffee shop but with math trivia thrown in randomly throughout the afternoon!! :D

Of course he was ready to turn it into a game he's a literal puppy

he just wants to show you you can be proud of him

you giggle lightly when you hear him say that and let him know that you'll always be proud of him, no matter what

M. Yaoyorozu 👑🏆☕

studyblr wants what u have.

studying in momo's room makes you feel like a Victorian young lady studying moral philosophy, writing poetry about the mourning doves outside the garden window, and waiting for her husband to come home from sailing the seven seas

it's your Belle moment where she's in the royal library except it's every day

stacks of beautiful, old books

the smell of the crisp, white pages

soft classical music floating through the air

the window cracked open slightly

and you are the luckiest student in all of UA because you get to study with the smartest girl in the whole school

she's also gorgeous and sweet and perfect which def doesn't hurt

u know that joke that ur teacher can spend a year explaining something and u never understand but then a random indian guy on YouTube explains it in 2 minutes and you finally get it

she is that random indian guy

you will never struggle with a single concept after you start studying with her

And she's so proud of you for every little question you answer correctly

(even thought she's the one that explained it all so well in the first place)

it's the definition of comfortable silence

she insists that neither of you study too hard and that you take lots of breaks to stretch

she says its to help you stay concentrated but really she just wants to feel your gentle hands on her shoulders as you massage out the knots

you take turns kneading the tension out of each other's shoulders

you feel a pleasant tingle down your spine at the feeling of her soft breath on the back of your neck

She pulls away and you share awkward smiles, neither of you realizing the other one of blushing, too

(((*≧艸≦)ﾌﾟﾌﾟｯ

O. Uraraka 🌜🚀🙏

ur actually super productive study buddies

Like u started studying together and then all of a sudden you were almost at the top of your class

she's just so sweet that being with her gives you the energy you need to write that essay all in one sitting instead of procrastinating like a normal person

Shows up at your dorm with snacks and drinks to keep your energy up!! :D

even though she's still going to end up getting sleepy anyway later in the afternoon

You get most of your studying done at the beginning of your study date so it's not really a problem

you know she doesn't have a lot of money to be throwing around so you pay for dinner every night

It's usually takeout but sometimes you guys make your own dinner for fun!

it always turns out almost inedible and burned because neither of you were paying attention to the stove

don't let baku see it or he'll start screaming about how you need to try your best at everything so he can beat you fair and square and that includes cooking too

neither you nor uraraka can handle spicey food so you never eat what Bakugou cooks for the class

You grab a few bags of chips and some sushi and shut yourselves in your dorm to pull an all-nighter study session about once a month

it should make you tired but, again, studying with her is so enjoyable that you don't mind

u two enjoy each others company in studying so much that you sometimes read ahead in your textbooks just to be able to study more

overall, hanging out with her is just lighthearted and filled with giggles

and you just so happen to get all your homework done along the way

M. Ashido 👾👽🚿

"studying" with her is so much fun

Hanging out with Mina in general is so much fun

it's impossible not to smile when she's around so even if you have a huge exam tomorrow, all your worries fade away just from being with her

She is pretty distracting in cases where you actually wanted to get stuff done

But you don't care

Change of plans

you're doing mani pedi's with Mina

No more studying

it's not as bad as it sounds though

You're not slacking off or anything and you can still keep your grades up with help from your other friends like Momo and Iida

you guys are just goofing off in the privacy of your dorm room when you should be studying

"It's not a crime to be young, Y/ N ;)"

she's just so energetic and happy like a little pink ball of sunshine

you can't help but laugh at her silliness and cute antics after a long day of classes

she makes your heart beat faster like you're on a roller coaster but without the nerves

somehow you feel giddy and comfortable in her presence at the same time

it doesn't matter what you two are doing, you always have fun

make sure she goes to bed on time, though, or she might end up baking a seven-tier cake at 3 am and Bakugou will scream at you for waking him up

don't feed her after midnight lmao

i started writing this after i almost died of boredom in my online calc class. my senioritis is already kicking in and it's still September (｡-ω-)

#boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha headcannons #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #Uraraka ochako #uraraka ochako x reader #Mina ashido x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #yaomomo #Kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader fluff headcannons #study date #hc

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

Lay Your Burdens Down

An introspection of Boromir’s mind during the quest. How he was fulfilling a role that was not written for him and how it became his downfall.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Boromir's relation with the Ring

~~~~~~~~~

Boromir carried burdens he was not meant to carry.

He had traveled far, aching bones and dirty hands to ask for counsel that might not be enough to save Gondor. His beautiful Gondor for which he would give his life, if it meant that the White City should prevail.

It was a feeble hope, but it was the only hope he had. For all other hope had long forsaken Minas Tirith as it lay in the Mountain’s shadow under ever growing darkness.

His father could not hold out for long. Soon the people of Gondor’s doubt, their questions if he knew what he was doing, if he was doing enough to save their land, would lead to discontent that showed in actions, rather than whispered murmurs.

Still, Boromir tried to fight both that darkness growing in the East and amongst his people. He fought bravely out on the field, commanded his men with compassion and took to the streets to help where it was needed.

The Son of Gondor was there, the people knew.

And now the Son of Gondor was away. He had been traveling for a hundred and ten days when he finally arrived and he would have to make the return journey as well.

He felt every day, every minute, heavily in his soul. He knew that this was time he could not waste, because who would pick up his role while he was gone? Who would keep the darkness at bay and that little flicker of hope burning bright?

His soul knew that Faramir would try in his stead, but the people whispered that he was a Wizard’s pupil. That he did not care for his City and carried out rituals in the dark.

Naturally his own soldiers knew this not to be true and no one dared to say a word when Boromir was there to protect his little brother’s honor, but Boromir couldn't always be there and the longer he was gone, the more distrust would fester.

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn't be riding to an Elven city when there was so much he had to do at home, so much to defend.

They had only just reclaimed Osgiliath and he was certain the Dark Lord wished to retake the Gondor city that controlled the Anduin. It was only a matter of time and he should be there to talk strategy so that it wouldn’t come to pass.

It was all too much for one person to bear. Fighting on too many fronts, in both a physical war as well as a war of trust. He was not build for this, he wasn’t the one who could fight both and win, yet he had to try.

He did not know anything else.

His life had always been this war, ever since he was a child and first held Faramir and his mother made his swear to protect his little brother, ever since he remembered that first oath he ever took while they had to hide as their father fought of a group of Orcswhile they had been out riding in the forest.

So, he kept on going. For while it might be too much, might completely hopeless, might be foolish to try and might not even be his destiny, he had to do it. Because who else would step up in his stead if he ever fell down?

Thus he found himself in Rivendell asking for counsel, surrounded by people who seemed much surer of themselves and more comfortable with the danger that lay far from their borders.

The counsel revealed much to him. Not only was the riddle that had plagued both his dreams as those of Faramir explained, but there was hope again. There was a weapon, a thing to turn the tide of this hopeless war and an heir. Someone to ease Boromir’s burden and help to rally the troops and take up arms against the might of Mordor.

Though he could not convince the counsel that Gondor needed the weapon, he was able to convince them to tie his own faith to that of the Ring and take a place on the Fellowship.

He knew there were people wiser than him, many people were and he had long learned that. He was a warrior, not a philosopher. So, he was content to follow both the words of the wise as well as his King. To do what they deemed to be the best course of action to save Middle Earth and with that Gondor.

However, as the journey processed a dark voice started to prod at the hope that had finally managed to bloom.

It spoke to him of the fall of Gondor while he was gone, urging him to return before it was too late, even though it already was. Telling him how he would come back to the White City being overrun and no strength he had in him could turn the tide. It offered him a solution to the problems that had plagued his mind since his youth and grew as he did.

Still, he tried to tell himself that the voice was his darkest fears and that, while they were founded in reality, were not true and merely an extreme. He looked to Aragorn and chided himself for not believing in the prophesied return, for doubting his King.

But it was hard to trust in his King when it seemed his King did not want to be what he was destined to be. When he clung to being a Ranger, keeping close to the Elf that he treated as if he were his kin. When he did not want to listen to Boromir when the soldier attempted to talk about Minas Tirith and the struggles of Gondor.

The burdens that he had carried around all his life made the journey with him towards Mordor, staying in his heart, lowering his shoulders, while no one ever looked his way to ease them, for it was the burdens of his home and no one seemed to care about them.

And so the voice crept back into his mind, its words sounding more tempting and reasonable every time.

A small part of his mind told him that it was the Ring, but a bigger part argued that it did not matter how the thought first came to be, for it was the only viable answer.

He would have to go back to Gondor, he couldn't linger here. He couldn't waste his time on this quest, which was not only folly, but would prove to be their doom, no matter the outcome. They did not know if destroying the Ring would destroy Sauron’s forces and Minas Tirith could still be overrun by his army. But, the voice whispered, they do no care for Minas Tirith, so why would consider that outcome?

It was eating at him and he saw the others look at him with suspicion. He knew they did not trust him and he resented them for their distrust, for they were safe in their countries and his people were the ones dying, yet still they did not see why he wanted the Ring to go to Gondor.

The more their gazes hardened when the passed him, the harder it came to fight with the reasoning of his mind that seemed like his own, until he wondered why he was arguing it.

Then Mithrandir fell. The Wizard was plunged into the deep where no one returned from and the small chance they had of success died with him. It disappearedover the ridge and while they pushed on, it was not the same.

Boromir watched with resentment as Aragorn stood up as leader, his mind wondering why he was willing to lead this Fellowship, while abandoning his people. The resentment grew when he lead to them Lothlórien, an Elven city once more.

Aragorn did not care for the men of Gondor, he was faithful to the Elves and did not want to take the crown. He did not want to fight for Gondor and Boromir was alone as always, but this time he was far removed from home and he could not fight from here.

He had abandoned his home, his people. The realization hit him as a voice spoke in his mind about the fall of Gondor, confirming it had not just been his own fears, but even the Elves knew of the impending doom, hanging over the White City.

She also told him to have hope, but hope had long since perished in Minas Tirith. He’dhad hope, a long while ago and he thought he could have hope when he met Aragorn, but he now saw that the hope was misplaced. The Elves didn’t understand what he had to do. They thought themselves so wise, but they were not. They were blind.

He knew what he had to do.

The solution seemed so easy. He had already said that the hands of a Halfling were not safe and he could prove it by reaching out his hand. The others would have to understand. It was the only choice he had.

It was only after he had attempted to find his salvation that he realized that it had been him, who had been folly to think he could wield it, that it was his own mind that made him think that this was the answer.

But it was too late now and he could not take back what he had done. He could not undo the confirmation of proving that their mistrust in him was just. He had failed them all and he had been too blind to see.

Still, he tried to prove himself worthy of the burden of the protecting the Ring that had been placed on his shoulders by the Counsel.

He tried to protect the little ones, tried to follow the ordersof his King and see it through to the end, no matter if it would mean that his own life would be forfeit. He had risked his life plenty of times before and he would not see two people as joyful as Merry ad Pippin succumb to the horrors of war that had been his reality from birth.

When he fell, he knew he had failed once more. Merry and Pippin were being carried away and he did not know what had become of the others, if Frodo was safe.

And when Aragorn comforted him, he scarcely believed his King when he told him he did enough, that he had kept his honor. He tried in his final moments to live up what his King thought of him, he confessed what he had done and made sure that Aragorn knew that he would have followed him if had been able.

Boromir carriedburdenshe was not meant to carry for his entire life and as he finally closed his eyes, that burden eased from his shoulders and wrapped around Aragorns shoulders like a heavymantle.

The King had to return and take up the burdens meant for him.

A/N:

I love everyone in the Fellowship and anything negative in here abt them is Boromir’s mind under the influence of the Ring

Also this was a mix between book and movie verse

#RR writing #LOTR #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #boromir #lotr boromir #boromir of gondor #the ring

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crownlessliestheking · 4 years

Text

the chain that snaps

Here it is, my Tolkien Secret Santa fic, on both tumblr (under the Keep Reading) and on AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145298) for your perusal. This was great, and I really hope my giftee enjoys it, even though this remains anonymous for now. Many thanks for @officialtolkiensecretsanta organizing this, and happy holidays, everyone!

The throne digs into his lower back, but Finrod consoles himself as he has all day- with the knowledge that this is but a formality he must sit through as King, and that on the morrow, he can be off, leaving Artaresto in charge once more. The Dwarrowfolk in Belegost, he thinks- it has been many a year since last he visited, since they named him Felagund and he took the epessë unto himself gladly and delighted in it.

He does not know them well, for all that their realms trade; they are a secretive bunch, but Finrod has treated with them, broken bread, and they have fought with the Noldor. That is enough to forge ties, he thinks. And besides, he longs to see the mountains again, breathe in the crisp air. Nargothrond is beautiful, and it is his in a way that no corner of Aman had been, but the crown is itself a shackle at times.

Ruefully, Finrod thinks that perhaps he is not suited to kingship and its more tedious daily tasks. His thoughts stray for a moment, back to Valinor, where his father is no doubt High King of the Noldor. He may be better suited for it. Certainly, kingship in Aman has less- contention. There is, after all, no Enemy to contend with.

He shifts in his throne again. He suspects his father’s throne is rather more comfortable too, if it sees any use, but movement near the entrance to the hall catches his eye.

“My lord,” says Artaresto, coming into the hall. He sketches out a bow, brief. He is tenser than usual- for all that Finrod tries to get him to relax, he refuses steadfastly- and that draws his attention immediately.

“Nephew,” Finrod greets him, straightening up. The metal of his throne presses uncomfortably against his spine as he does. “I had thought you were out ranging with some of the guard.”

So as to avoid Finrod himself doing so, he does not say, but the fond exasperation is still clear in his voice. Finrod has never been one to deny his emotions.

“I was,” comes the answer. “We encountered two others, journeying to Nargothrond from Himring.”

Not Maedhros or Maglor, Finrod suspects. Not from the look on Artaresto’s face, brows drawn together, lips turned into a frown. Around him, the court stirs in unease. Finrod rises from the throne, and his nephew strides over to stand next to him.

“Come, then, tell me who it is you found wandering the road?” he prompts, voice light to lift the shroud of gloom that is descending upon the room. “Surely not more from Himlad who had thought to shelter there before they grew weary of the chill? There is room plenty in these halls, and perhaps they may even find those who they thought were lost here.”

But Artaresto remains silent, and there is an uncertain look about his face.

“Yes, indeed, more from Himlad, fair cousin,” comes a familiar, lazy drawl from the entrance through the hall. There had been a wave of murmurs across the room earlier, but now the silence is a death knell. “Surely you would not turn us away? You have already taken in many of our people.”

“A gift so freely given would be miserly if rescinded,” says another voice, soft as an echo, but twice as sharp.

No. Not Maedhros, nor Maglor, though he would have welcomed them no matter how grim the former has become, nor how much the latter is prone to dramatics. Nor Ambarussa, always together, fey and laughing though that too has changed. Nor dark Caranthir, who last Finrod had heard from a succinct letter, had also met with those of the Houses of Men.

Instead, Curufin and Celegorm, as they are called now, stand before him. They are much changed, Finrod realizes, with the first flicker of his own unease.

These are his cousins, and he cannot deny them audience.

And yet-

Finrod is wise, he is the Hewer of Caves, he has walked among Men and learned of their ways, more so than any of his kin except perhaps his eldest cousin in chill Himring. He built this realm as a haven for his people, to keep them safe against the ever-growing dark, and he has bled for them.

He knows now with cold certainty that he will bleed for them again. Finrod knows the snake that lurks in the grass, but he is not so cruel as to kill it when it is simply doing what it must to survive.

(But oh, at what cost? No. He need not ask that. Deep in his soul, he already knows, he hears the bells of mourning toll and tastes the must of the grave on his tongue.)

Especially not when it was their swords that protected his lands from Morgoth, before the Bragollach, when their brothers’ swords still do. Especially not when they are still bound by blood, when he remembers Tyelko as a fey youth in Oromë’s train, and Curvo sharp-tongued and fumbling in turns, cheeks flushed a becoming red when Finrod teased him just so. It was not only Carnistir who deserved the epithet, although Curvo was much harder to provoke.

Perhaps he is soft- certainly, Curvo-as-he-was would mock him for it, and no doubt Curufin-as-he-is will have many a thing to say about it. But he has never encountered a single thing he could not form an opinion of, and those, Finrod are well-used to hearing. No, for the love that he once bore them and the love he bears Curvo still (and so, the love that Curvo bears for his brother), he cannot turn them away.

“Cousins,” Finrod greets them, warm. It is a sharp contrast to Artaresto’s coolness, the cutting edge of his formality. He stands, and tries not to seem too visibly relieved by it.

“Your necklace is the work of the Khazad, in the mountains,” Curufin says, in lieu of any true greeting. His eyes gleam the way they once did in fair Aman, a smith’s gaze, assessing quality and artistry, rather than being lent to cunning and cutting. It is good to see him look this way once more, rather than hollow and lit with the terrible flame of the Oath. His resemblance to his father has only increased, but he is much wearier than Fëanáro ever was.

Finrod does not get to answer before his nephew speaks.

“Kneel,” Artaresto says softly, from next to him. “Before the King of Nargothrond.” Never has Finrod heard his nephew so speak, iron-willed and vicious. But the fall of Minas Tirith to Sauron has changed him, made him more suspicious, and Finrod cannot yet blame him for this. But he still mislikes it. Those are not the marks of kingship. Nor, he thinks, is it the best way of dealing with his cousins. Fëanor’s get are proud and flighty, Tyelko and Curvo more so than most- the former laconic and dangerous, ever the skilled hunter, and the latter has more than earned his father-name. It still aches to think of, at times; Curvo’s admiration of him had been endearing when they were younger, but after the Oath, Finrod had not known whether to shake him or curse him for folly. But his cousins have not been gifted with foresight; that belongs to his father’s line alone.

Still. They kneel, and Finrod inhales sharply, subtly. He had not expected this. The first to do so is little Tyelperinquar, though he is little no longer. He does not look unhappy about it. The second is Tyelkormo, sinking gracefully to a single knee. It is a shockingly traditional Noldorin bow; Finrod wonders at its insolence now. And Curufinwe, second of his name, is third to do so, but his head does not incline more than the barest degree, and there is that fell flame in his eyes once more as his gaze bores into them.

(Once, he knew well the intensity of being at the center of Curvo’s attention, and he had revelled in it. It was like the heat of the flames he used in the forge, white hot. Finrod had watched him there once, in those years of light, when they were young and not yet grown out of their fathers’ shadows. He had seen Fëanor’s favored son handle molten metal with his bare hands as his father did, and shape it to his will. The red-white glow had clung to sweat-slick skin, his hair tied back in working braids not quite suited to a Prince of the Noldor. Finrod had been surprised to find beauty in that intensity, in the cousin who had seen them as naught but foes, even then.)

(Curvo had warmed to him. It had taken a lot of work. The memory glows in his chest, even now. Smiles, coaxed out carefully; touches, when they could be spared; more besides as the thrum of the connection between them deepened, little by little. Finrod did not so much fall, in those days, as he had sauntered vaguely downwards, until he was in the middle of it yet had not even noticed, until they were closer than any other pair, Curvo’s walls slowly lowering around him and Finrod himself growing more than fond of his most prickly cousin.)

(And then.)

(Well.)

(His uncle had quite the temper, and he and Curvo had ever followed in their father’s footsteps.)

(Or, Curvo had. Finrod knows not what his own father must have thought, to see his children refuse to turn back, lured across the ice by the promise of lands of their own. Ambition, he thinks wryly, has always been a Fëanorian trait, not one. But forgiveness, but love over all, even wisdom? That, he thinks, he has learned from his father, though Arafinwë had not embodied it when last they had stood together.)

And how it must cost them, his proud cousins, to kneel before him now.

He wonders if he ought to feel powerful. He doesn’t. He feels uncomfortable, magnified by the fact that none of them (Tyelperinquar excepted) seem to be attempting to mask their displeasure at being made to kneel. Fëanorian pride indeed, he thinks, with a hint of the fondness that lay slumbering inside him in the long years they have not seen each other.

“They did make my necklace,” he answers, belatedly, as a peace offering. “It is called the Nauglamir, one of the finest gifts I have received.” And this is not a statement to offend; anyone who looks upon it would be able to tell the truth.

Perhaps he should have predicted that Curufin would take it personally.

Finrod does not wear the jewellery Curvo had gifted him, all those years ago. He has but a lone ring and two beads for his hair, both of which he had worn across the Ice. The other gifts by his cousin’s hand lie across the sea. He had not thought of it, until now- but there is no doubt that Curufin has noticed what he is and is not adorned with.

But there is no answer, to his words. An offer made and rejected. His nephew bristles at his side, and Finrod lifts a hand to silence him before he can speak.

“I see you’ve taught your kin to heel,” Curufin says, amused and wicked-soft. “Perhaps Tyelko ought to take lessons from you when it comes to that beast of his.”

“Father-,” Tyelpe starts, only to be cut off by his uncle. The tempering influence is clear. Celegorm and Curufin have always been together, antagonists and allies to each other in turn.

“No need for jealousy, brother dear; none other than I could be Huan’s favorite,” comes the retort.

Yet something feels forced about their banter.

“He is welcome to the kennels, if you like,” Finrod breaks in, with smile that is only slightly forced. “For as long as you are here- though you have yet to say your purpose in this visit, and my dear nephew would be greatly soothed to hear it.”

Curufin’s eyes flick to Orodreth, then away. Assessed and dismissed, and his nephew takes it as a slight.

“Yes,” he says. “I am sure he would. Well, O King, it simple. We have come to reunite with those of our folk who came here after the Bragollach; we had thought most would be in Himring with Maedhros, but instead they fled here.”

“And we cannot blame them, for it is grim in those mountains,” Celegorm adds. “Your realm, we hear, has a much warmer welcome.”

Ah.

Finrod feels as if there is an arrow in the distance, notched and waiting, pointing at him. Aimed, ready to be fired.

He cannot deny them, when he has not denied their folk. It is too obvious a slight. And truth be told, he has missed them, he has missed his cousins.

He has missed Curvo.

And there would be two others to assist his nephew, when he is gone on his trips, both of them experienced leaders in their own right.

Yet.

He hesitates. He knows that Curufin sees him hesitate, hears it in the sharp inhale, sees it in the way his nostrils flare.

These are not the cousins he loved. They are leaders, yes, but they are ruthless; they had to be, to hold their lands for so long. Grim Maedhros was made so by his time as a captive, but it had shaped his brothers, too. And there is a hollowness to their fëa, too, something that gnaws and bites. Claws in the dark, hidden, fangs under soft lips.

But have they not always been so?

He finds it difficult to convince himself of it this time.

But they need an answer, he cannot deliberate, and- well. Perhaps there was only ever one answer. He knows what Artaresto would say, yet the decision is his to make, and his alone.

The mistake, is his to make.

A breath, the arrow flies.

Finrod stands before his throne, arms outstretched.

“For the love which I bore you in Aman, for our shared blood-,” and oh, Finrod does not miss the way Tyelkormo must rest a hand on his brother’s arm, nor the way Curufinwe ducks his head in a long-familiar motion, so that the fall of his dark hair hides his expression, -“you may stay.”

“Thank you.” Tyelpe is again the first to speak, and he does his father no favors in this. He looks like his father, yes, but there is much of his mother in him too, and Finrod’s heart twists in his chest. Ah, how they had grown apart. He had not thought that Curvo would have a son, he had not found out until the child was presented for its naming ceremony. Curufinwë Tyelperinquar, third of his father-name, third of dark hair and silver eyes, though his did not burn as his grandfather’s, nor cut like his father’s. Finrod finds himself staring even now, thinking that despite the harshness of Beleriand, he still has a softness to him that Curvo had not in Valinor.

They rise smoothly, Celegorm first, then him, then Curufin.

Steel-silver eyes, bright and hollow as an imploding star, bore into his own.

“Yes. Thank you, O King, for your hospitality.” Curufin’s lips shape the words, tone just shy of disrespect.

You will be the one kneeling tonight, cousin, his expression says.

“I could not deny my cousins,” Finrod demurs instead. “Come, now. I shall show you where most of your people currently dwell- and cousin, if you wish to join me in a hunt tomorrow, there shall be a feast?”

Celegorm’s eyes flicker. “It would be my pleasure, cousin.”

Curufin matches him, stride for stride, as they leave the court, and the hairs at the back of Finrod’s neck rise as Celegorm prowls behind him. Tyelpe is a brush of familiarity behind his uncle, but not one that serves to comfort him.

His chest aches, and he feels blood iron-bitter and foul flood his mouth, and Finrod thinks, ah. There it is.

#tolkien #fanfiction #silmarillion #curufin #finrod #celegorm #tyelpe #nargothrond #tolkien secret santa #tss2020 #my fic #my writing

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years

Text

Fanfic for @tolkiengenweek!

Title: The Castaway

Works Referenced: The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion

Characters: Legolas, Gimli, Maglor

The small grey boat sat completed on the shoreline, and the last of the supplies were being packed for the next morning’s expected voyage, when Legolas and Gimli looked up from their preparations to see a stranger on the beach. From his deeply-lined face and greying hair, Gimli might at first glance have thought him a Man of Gondor, were it not for the keenness of the eyes.

Legolas’ hands went to his bow, and before Gimli could speak he had already notched an arrow and moved to stand between the stranger and the boat.

“Show your hands.”

The stranger held his hands out, palm up, and the right hand was curled and blackened to to second knuckle of the fingers, as though he had grasped a piece of metal new from the forge.

“Sit.”

The stranger sat in the sand, hands still held up in front of him.

Gimli at last found his voice. “Legolas, what are you doing? He is unarmed, he has offered us no threat, the Men of Minas Tirith assured us there were no evil things at the Mouths of Anduin - ”

“Evidently, the Men of Minas Tirith were mistaken.” Gimli had never heard such hate in Legolas’ voice, not even for Saruman or servants of the Enemy. “I will explain. For the present, believe me when I say that this is such a threat as we have not faced since the War, and seldom during it. Now -“ returning his attention to the stranger - “how and why are you here, and why now, and for what purpose?”

The stranger spoke slowly and softly, his eyes fixed on the sand.

“A fortnight ago I was far to the south of here. In a dream, I saw the Mouths of Anduin, and a small grey boat, and two companions at a distance. I thought it only a dream, but it returned in the same form four nights more, and on the morn of the fifth day I saw a great flock of gulls flying north. I thought it might be a sign, though I have had none such since we left Valinor, and I came north to meet it. And here I find you. Am I right in thinking,” - he paused - “that you mean to leave these shores?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have come to ask - to beg - for you to take me with you.”

*****

Legolas had sent the stranger a little ways up the beach, so that the camp lay between him and the ship, before he turned to talk with Gimli.

“How much do you remember of the tales of the Elder Days told at Rivendell? Or at Erebor?”

“I know the tales of Beren and Lúthien and the Great Jewel, of Túrin the Doomed, of Nargothrond and Gondolin and the war against the Dark Enemy.” He also knew of the war of Doriath and Tumunzahar, but he suspected that Erebor and the Forest of Greenleaves had differing accounts.

“And of Fëanor?”

“The maker of the Jewels. His grandson was the Ring-maker deceived by Sauron, and a great friend of Khazad-dûm and of Dúrin the Deathless. His sign was on the doors of Khazad-dûm.”

Legolas narrowed his lips. “Yes. That is what many would remember, in these days. Some tales are too dark to tell lightly to outsiders, and too ill to tell for pleasure. The Elves remember, but few others care to, beyond the lore-masters. For our times are happier, at least in that we know our enemies from our friends.

“When the Dark Enemy slew the Lights that were before the Sun and Moon, and stole the Great Jewels, Fëanor and his sons swore to reclaim the Jewels and to slay any that possessed them, or else be doomed to Darkness Everlasting. To leave the Blessed Realm swiftly, they slew the greater part of my kin that lived there and stole their ships. In the long years when the Dark Enemy held the jewels, they never attacked him in his fortress, but when Beren and Lúthien freed the Jewel, and their son ruled as King of Doriath - ” Legolas paused and threw a hard look at the stranger. “They destroyed Doriath and slaughtered its people. They killed the King and Queen and their young sons, and when the King’s daughter escaped, they slew near all that remained of her people. But she was saved by the Lord of the Seas, and with her husband Eärendil the Mariner brought the Jewel into the West, and sought and received the aid of the Powers against the Enemy.”

“And what has this to do with our visitor?”

“He is Maglor, the last son of Fëanor. For his crimes he is barred from returning to the Blessed Realm; but he appears to be attempting it.”

“He seemed to think he had a sign from the Powers that it might be permitted.”

“The Fëanorians are liars, thieves, and murderers all. I trust him no more than I would an orc. While he is here, we keep a watch through the night. Keep an eye on him - and keep an eye on the boat!” *****

Legolas took the first watch, and woke Gimli at three in the morning. Maglor did not appear to have moved all night, nor was he sleeping; he remained seated silently, gazing out to sea. After an hour of boredom - he might as well have been watching a statue - Gimli approached the elf and sat down beside him. At the least, it seemed right for him to have a chance to speak for himself.

Gimli gave a small bow before seating himself. “Gimli son of Gloin, of Erebor and Aglarond.”

“Maglor Fëanorian. But your companion has told you that, and more.”

“Do you dispute any of it?”

The elf gave a faint shudder. “No.”

Maglor seemed thin, even for an elf, and wearier than any elf Gimli had ever seen. “Have you eaten?”

“A few fish, on the journey north.”

“Did you eat yesterday?”

“No.”

Gimli left him briefly to rummage through a pack at the camp. Lembas, a final gift from Queen Arwen of Gondor before her departure. He brought back a wafer with a mug of water and handed it to the elf. Maglor ate it slowly and with difficulty, as though it were cram rather than the much more savoury bread of the elves.

While Maglor ate, Gimli pondered, and fragments of old lays and legends came together in his mind, forming connections and the beginnings of an idea for taking the measure of this uncommunicative stranger.

"Do you know the tale of the Quest of Erebor?"

Maglor shook his head, still chewing.

Gimli told the tale, not as it was told on days of festival or winter gatherings in Dale and Erebor - dwarves did not criticize their kings lightly, or to outsiders - but as it was told by dwarven elders to youths, when they were old enough to think and consider and understand. He told of Thorin's quest, for vengeance and for the treasure and kingdom of his forefathers; told of danger and daring and victory, of wrath and pride and dragon-sickness, of loss and of sorrow and renewal. And all the while he watched Maglor's expression closely.

He could read nothing clearly from the elf's face, though midway through the story he began tapping one finger lightly, as though keeping time with the rhythm of Gimli's account. They sat in silence for a time once the story was ended, Maglor staring abstractedly into the distance, until at last he said, "I envy your king." His weariness seemed only to increase. "He fought with valour, and died at peace and in honour. It is more than many achieve."

The elf reached for a mug of water, but his hand passed right through it. He tried again, and the same happened. On the third attempt, he managed to pick it up in a solid hand.

Gimli shivered. This was too wraith-like for his liking. “Are you some manner of ghost or spirit?”

“Not yet.” Gimli gave him a questioning glance. “Given enough time, the spirit wears through the body. I am nearly there. If I remain much longer in Middle-earth, form will fade away; I will hear and see, but not taste or smell or touch; live in the world, but not act upon it.”

Gimli could scarcely think of a worse fate than being alive but unable to touch, to shape, to craft, to work. He was glad Mahal had had the wisdom to grant his people mortality.

The question had drawn Maglor's attention back to the journey before them. "I am sure you have more right to the journey than me, but may I ask how you come to be travelling to Valinor? I had not heard that mortals were permitted."

"There have been a few exceptions. I am not one of them, and cannot say I have been invited, as such. But Legolas is my dearest friend; the sea calls him, and I will not leave him, not so long as I have life. And even if mortals die swifter in Farthest West, as some say, still it would be worth many years of life to see the Lady Galadriel again."

Maglor started at the name. "You know her?"

"Aye; and count it one of the greatest fortunes of my life that have had the chance. Fairest and kindest and wisest of all whom I have known, with a dwarf's love for beauty and craftsmanship. Greatness without pride, and power without corruption. She cast down Dol Guldur in the war, where the old king Thrain was murdered; I wish I could have been there to see it!"

"Did she!" For the first time a smile flickered around Maglor's mouth. "She would have enjoyed that. I am glad one of us had victories, in the end."

"You know her?"

"Cousin Altáriel? We were never close. It has been long ages since I last saw her. But there is something to be said for shared exile, of a sort; the two in Middle-earth, since the Great War. I had not known she had been permitted to return. That is hopeful, at least; though our cases cannot be said to be alike."

Gimli's head was swimming. "Cousin?"

"Well - after a fashion. You have heard of my father," - with a rueful look - "and his half-brother, Galadriel's father, is king of the Noldor in the Blessed Realm."

It was exceedingly strange to think of the Lady as the child of someone still living, much less as the child of a king rather than a ruler in her own right. Gimli forced his thoughts back to relevant questions.

"You swore an oath to regain the Jewels. That Jewel, by the old legends." He gestured at the greying horizon. "Do you still intend to pursue it, if you return to Valinor?"

"I cannot." The elf's eyes went to his blighted hand. "I could not hold it, if I did. Nor would I seek to. I have lost all right to it. Let those that hold it keep it." His voice sank below a whisper. "As weregild, at least."

*****

"You spoke to him?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"You never forbade me to do so."

"I told you that he was dangerous! I told you that he could not be trusted! I would think the implication was obvious!"

"Well, whatever he was in the past, I cannot think he is dangerous now. He is old, and he is tired, and and he is sorry."

"And you can understand him this well from one night's conversation! When you had not even heard of him before yesterday!"

"It is more than I would have understood otherwise. Why are you so afraid of me speaking to him? Or hearing and seeing some account of him other than your own? You did not mention that he was close kin to the Lady Galadriel!"

"If you think she would wish to see him again, you are mistaken. Very much the reverse. The people he murdered were her kinsfolk as well as mine. And if you would trust him over me so readily, that should give reason enough for why it is perilous to speak with him unwarily. Do you remember what Gandalf said to us of Saruman at Orthanc? Beware his voice. Not all power is in weapons."

"He is an elf like you, not a wizard - "

"He is not like me. In powers I am no more like him than the innkeeper in Bree is like Aragorn - or rather, like Ar-Pharazon! The elves of the First Age had strange powers, and yes, some of them were equal or greater in power than the wizards we have known. You will remember that Felagund himself fought alone against Sauron. This elf is known about all for the power of his music and his voice, and I have no wish to test it!"

"I assure you that I am not enchanted! It is not as though Saruman had any effect on me, beyond annoyance at his lies. Even if you were right about him, why would Maglor be any different?"

"Saruman was seeking to daunt us; and you are too brave and too stubborn for that. But he got to Fangorn in the end, and Fangorn is no fool; and convinced him not through threats or temptations, but through pity. The kinslayer knows he has nothing to offer you or threaten you with, but if he can play upon compassion and seek to drive you to distrust me - "

"He did not. He denied nothing that you said, and he did not mention Galadriel until I had done so. Is it so impossible that he is sincere?"

"You do not understand the Fëanorians. Even grief and regret can be deceptive. Of all Maglor's works, the most famed is the one he wrote of the First Kinslaying, a song of sorrow and regrets. It did not hold him back from slaying kin a second time, or a third, or making war against the Valar themselves. So his protestations of regret can mean little now. Whether he is dissembling, or whether he means them truly, they have never stopped him before."

"He is dying. Or what passes for it among elves. Can you ask me to go to the West and tell the Lady Galadriel that I abandoned her kinsman to die?"

"He has more than earned it."

"So had Gollum. So had Saruman, when Gandalf and the Lady Galadriel both offered him mercy. Legolas, you say you fear I am bewitched, but it is you who do not sound like yourself. You hate him so bitterly, you would leave him to die, for deed committed ten generations or more before my grandsires, in a past so distant it is scarcely memory?"

Legolas went taut, and his eyes flashed with rage. "The memories of mortals are short! His deeds live in the memory of my father, and my mother, and their fathers and mothers, who dwelt in Doriath when he attacked it and lost friends and family and home to his and his brothers' blades! No one is asking you to show pity for Azog! No one is asking you to invite Smaug into your family's home and last refuge!"

The words hit Gimli as a blow. He had to admit that he would never have spoken to another dwarf as he had spoken to Legolas. Dwarves had fought long and bitter wars over the death of their kings; not only against Smaug, but against the Orcs of Khazad-dûm��and the cold-drakes of the north. And though Dúrin’s folk had never warred among themselves, other dwarven lineages had had long and bitter clan-wars over generations. If he had tried to tell another dwarf it was his duty save a bitter personal enemy, when there was blood between them, the conversation would quickly have come to ax-blows.

His opinion of the aged elf had not altered, and he had no wish to leave him behind; but it was not Gimli’s choice to make.

“You are right. I cannot understand what he has done to your people, and to your family. I have no quarrel with him, and so I have have not the right to pardon him. You are my friend; I trust your judgement and your wisdom; and the choice rightfully belongs to you. Whatever you choose, I will go with you.”

*****

Legolas spent the afternoon in thought.

What were his reasons for refusing passage to Maglor? Certainly, Legolas hated the elf, but that alone was merely a sentiment, not a reason to condemn another person to death.

He is a murderer, and a threat, and his pretences to remorse cannot be trusted. He has killed, and repented; and killed, and repented; and killed, and repented; and so his repentance is meaningless. Should we bring danger and evil again into the one place in Eä free of it?

Even if all that was true, Maglor was only one elf. Could he reasonably be said to pose a danger to the Powers? If they considered him a threat, was there anything to stop them taking him prisoner immediately upon arrival? Even among the elves, Galadriel by herself was at least his equal, and there were likely others in the Blessed Realm as powerful as she or more so.

That argument, then, was weak.

He is barred from the Blessed Realm. He has chosen his own fate, and his own doom, and the scars on his hand proclaim it plainly. He cannot enter; and if we attempt to bring him, we may never find the path, or even be destroyed as the Númenoreans were when they defied the Powers’ judgements.

This argument was stronger. The judgement was not Legolas’, but that of the Valar, and one that Maglor had fully earned. Even the attempt to bring Gimli, a mortal and not a ring-bearer, depended on the Valars’ leniency; why try their patience further, for one to whom he owed nothing?

But did he know that Maglor was forbidden to return? Maglor felt he had been given a sign.

Maglor has proved time and time again that he cannot not be trusted. He might easily be lying, or deceiving himself.

But if he was not...

If he was not, Legolas was choosing to judge where the Valar had granted mercy.

There was no way to know. Either choice could be in error: to pardon where they had judged, or to judge where they had pardoned.

Legolas was not Galadriel, or one of the Elves of old. He had not spoken with the Valar; he knew of them only through distant and hazy legends.

And through their emissary. Mithrandir, who had urged pity for Gollum, pity that had saved them all. Who had offered mercy to Saruman, a traitor and orc-breeder far worse than Maglor. There could be little doubt what Mithrandir would have chosen.

And if there was risk to the choice, to Legolas and Gimli themselves, what of that? To abandon him to death for the sake of guarding their own lives was fear masquerading as justice.

It was cowardice.

So the second argument, too, failed.

But were either of these the true reason for Legolas’ refusal?

I am returning to Elvenhome, to all the generations of elves since the world began. I am returning to my kin, and perhaps my ancestors, and to all the people of Doriath. I cannot do so in the company of Maglor Fëanorian and a dwarf!

Legolas would be living among the elves of Eressëa and Aman, for the rest of his life. If he did this, he would alienate them from the start, and destroy the chances of his people ever accepting Gimli. It could scarcely offend more if it had been calculated to do so; it could not appear but as a deliberate insult, to arrive with the greatest enemies of Doriath by his side.

They were not the same. They had nothing in common. There was no more reason for anyone to blame Gimli for the actions of other dwarves two Ages ago than there was to blame Legolas for the deeds of Fëanor. But the appearance of the thing could not help but have an effect; could not help but drawn connections; could not help but estrange him and Gimli alike from Legolas’ home and kin.

That was the true reason in his heart.

And acknowledged, it sounded ugly. Was he truly willing to condemn a person to death, or worse, merely to protect his own reputation? If he was too timid to bear disapproval or hostility for Maglor’s sake, would he also be too timid to bear it on Gimli’s account?

It was unacceptable.

*****

In the evening, he spoke with Maglor.

“How can I have any assurance that you will not again bring violence to the Blessed Realm? If your oath still binds you, are you not a danger? And if it can be broken, what possible excuse could you give for not breaking it far sooner?”

Maglor answered the question as if he had been expecting it, but unsteadily, wavering from meeting Legolas’ eyes, to closing his own, to looking away at the sand or the sea. “We swore to pursue the Jewels, and we swore ourselves to the Darkness if we kept it not, and in keeping it we more than earned the Darkness. If I am condemned, I am condemned; more in the keeping than in the breaking; but I will pursue it no longer.”

“Why do you seek to return now, after so long? If you wished to seek pardon, surely there were others you could have asked, far earlier - at Mithlond, or at Imladris -”

Maglor gave a sharp shake of his head.

“You may as well call it cowardice, on both counts. I stayed away for long ages, for fear and for shame, of seeing any that I had known or letting them see what I had made of myself. I think I would have preferred death to mercy, but for fear, being in no hurry to meet the Darkness. And so I waited, and waited, and now I am out of time, and fear fading more than death or judgement. I cannot stay here, forever, to the end of the world, without any hope of asking mercy, without any chance of saying that I am sorry -”

“What do you expect, if you do return?”

“I do not know. I scarcely care. Let the Valar do with me as they will.”

It was difficult to disagree with Gimli’s reading of the old elf. More than anything, he seemed unutterably weary.

He is not harmless. He has killed hundreds, by his sword; thousands, by his commands.

And he is willing to answer for it.

And Legolas’ decision had, really, already been made.

“Come with us, then. We depart in the morning.”

Author’s Notes

I wrote this in a very fragmentary manner and I can’t say I’m entirely happy with it. But it’s going to nag at my mind until I post it, so it’s going up in its current state.

There are two main reasons I wanted to write this.

First, I wanted Maglor to be able to return to Valinor, and I felt it important that he be held answerable for his actions by someone affected by them. It’s something he chose not to do during all his years of exile - he could have turned himself in, to Círdan, to Thranduil, to Celeborn and Galadriel, and he didn’t, and by this point there are very few people left who would qualify. Legolas didn’t directly experience the Kinslayings, but his father and grandfather were Doriathrin so there’s a definite connection nonetheless. I think that Gimli’s conclusion, that Gimli has no right to grant mercy to Maglor because he has no grievance against him, is correct; pardon needs to be given by the wronged, or by someone with authority to judge.

Second, Legolas is, of all the Fellowship, the one who never faces any real trials and temptations during The Lord of the Rings. (Even Gimli has to vie with his terror of the Paths of the Dead.) The Ring is no temptation to him - he has no desire for power or glory or greatness. Neither battle nor the spirits of the Dead nor the road to Mordor seem to daunt him. So I wanted to create a story where he has to face temptation and overcome it and do a certain amount of soul-searching. And, as is the case with many people who haven’t had to face great trials, the strongest temptation is towards condemnation of those who have faced temptation and have failed.

So I’ve tried to balance those two somewhat conflicting ideas, the legitimacy of judgement and the moral necessity of mercy.

#tolkiengenweek #fanfic #legolas #gimli #maglor #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #tolkien

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just0nemorepage · 4 years

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The Lines We Cross || Randa Abdel-Fattah || 400 pages ------------------------------------------------------------ Top 3 Genres: Young Adult / Contemporary / Realistic Fiction

Synopsis: Michael likes to hang out with his friends and play with the latest graphic design software. His parents drag him to rallies held by their anti-immigrant group, which rails against the tide of refugees flooding the country. And it all makes sense to Michael.

Until Mina, a beautiful girl from the other side of the protest lines, shows up at his school, and turns out to be funny, smart—and a Muslim refugee from Afghanistan. Suddenly, his parents’ politics seem much more complicated.

Mina has had a long and dangerous journey fleeing her besieged home in Afghanistan, and now faces a frigid reception at her new prep school, where she is on scholarship. As tensions rise, lines are drawn. Michael has to decide where he stands. Mina has to protect herself and her family. Both have to choose what they want their world to look like.

Finished: February 28th, 2021.

Progress: 1 / 10. 10% complete.

My Rating: ★★★★★. [5/5]

My Review: [Under the read more - NOT SPOILER FREE]

Ugh, I’ve been putting off writing a review for this for well over a day, cause I am just the worst at articulating my thoughts for this sort of thing. And also, it doesn’t help that it took me two months to finish the book.

So I guess I’ll just word vomit and hope for the best lol.

The first two thirds of the book were HARD to get through – Michael’s chapters felt like reading about a Trump supporter, and that is like an instinctual vomit reaction at this point. Honestly, there were only a few acceptable ways this entire book could go, without me abandoning it or giving it a shitty rating. And luckily, I’d say by the time I reached the end, it mostly managed to land on the acceptable path – Michael is the only one who really changed at all. And, Mina only started to forgive him after he became actively and vocally anti-racist – and not just wishy washy or "both sides" about it.

Shit though, the beginning was hard to get through. I had to put the book down every Michael chapter just to de-rage myself.

Honestly, I’m kind of mad I had to do that. I deescalated myself and felt more neutral each time I picked the book up again, and forgot the specifics of what I was mad or annoyed about. I wish I remembered it all clearly – I feel like it’d impact my final star rating if I did.

There are two things I know I didn’t like about the ending. Firstly – Michael didn’t sever himself completely from his family. But, I know that kind of thing is very complicated and individualized, especially when you’re 16. And, my own boyfriend isn’t severing himself from his own shitty family, so I also get it. I’m unhappy about it, but I get it. And secondly – Mina’s final line in the book was about how "Michael thinks he learned from her – but he’s wrong. She learned the most from him – how to never give up on anyone." And may I just say, fuck that. Giving up on and severing shitty people is foundational to healthy boundaries and enforcing consequences, and who you choose to not give up on is extremely situational and in NO WAY should be generalized advice. It felt like serious lib shit and it kind of soured my taste of how well the rest of the latter part of the book had been going.

So much went right, though. The fact that Michael went from mindless "Trump supporter" anti-immigrant logic to actively anti-racist was astounding, and so was the fact that he actively decided to not be silent about it and speak up, even if it meant permanently and publicly losing a friend, and even when it made his home life very difficult. Mina never crossed her own boundaries once – she stood firm and never gave in on anything. And – Nathan was autistic! Michael’s little brother! They never used the actual word (which was disappointing), but if you’re familiar with what it looks like at all, it’s super obvious.

I wish more had been done about the class difference between Mina and Paula, though, and not just more or less brushed under the rug like it was. And, I wish Jane could have worked up the courage to really tell Terrance off and apologize to her friends for acting like such a shit, but where the story ended seemed too soon in her attempt to move on for her to manage it I suppose. How she could fall for him in the first place really makes me dislike her character, but I can at least appreciate the active female camaraderie Mina extended to her at the end in an attempt to bring her back from the Terrance ledge.

Honestly though so much more than what I said was done well. I am the WORST at articulating any of it, but I felt it really did an excellent job of capturing life as a Muslim asylum seeker, and the truth behind it – and the lies the racists opposing them will spin.

Mostly, though, when I started the book, I was super worried that "the lines we cross" would indicate "meeting in the middle" or some sort of unity bullshit. But – none of that happened, really. The only one who crossed any lines was Michael. He’s the only one who really had any changing to do in the first place – and boy, he did it all correctly. (I’m kind of sour that it took meeting a pretty Muslim girl for him to get his head out of his own asscrack in the first place, but hey.)

Some of this book did come across as pretty libby. But, for the most part, most of it was true leftist energy, and is very powerfully done and well articulated. Even though it takes place in Australia, it does a very good job capturing the generic subject of refugees and immigration, and teaching exactly what stance anyone trying to be actively anti-racist should take.

#book reviews #the lines we cross #randa abdel fattah #★★★★★#young adult #contemporary #realistic fiction #romance #cultural #politics #racism #social justice #library book #print book #stand alone #jomp original

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amaamajiki · 4 years

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| by my side | royal!kaminari denki X reader

ahhhhhh, I just saw you’re my secret friend from the bnha spring time writing challenge too!!! Haven’t even read your fic but I’m so pumped, thank you @snapdragon-mina!!! I’m your secret writer and here’s your fic, I hope you enjoy it cause this is the first time I’ve written for Kaminari lol

Anyways, I hope we can be friends and again I hope you like this ♥️♥️♥️

PS- I went with a Royal AU! And there are no gendered pronouns but there are 2 “My lady” expressions, please do tell me if you’d like me to change it please.

Kaminari looks at you across the ballroom and you’re smiling, you slide along in the dance floor with a guy he doesn’t care to remember the name, cause all he really cares is that you are having fun. He is glad he managed to make you come to the party cause if it were up to you you would’ve stayed at home, it it’s always a treat to see you like this: looking so carefree and alive.

When the dance finishes and he sees you politely bowing as a goodbye he begins his walk towards you, and as you turn around you catch a glimpse of him, and your lips rise in that soft smile he’s grown so used to. You find each other at the edges of the ballroom and Kaminari looks dashing in the dark blue from his cape, there’s golden on the embroiled pattern in his shirt, making a perfect match with his eyes and hair.

“My lady.” he salutes you with a glint of amusement in his eyes and a drop of mischief in his voice, you are long past the formalities so it’s always funny when the two of you need to adopt the proper etiquette. “You look dashing tonight”.

You raise a brow almost imperceptibly, and simply offer him a slight smile. “What a proper salute, your grace”.

“I’ve been practicing all day in front of the mirror”.

“I can see that”. This time you are unable to hold the giggle that escapes through your lips.

“Shall we properly engage in a proper walk through the gardens of this proper castle?” Denki asks while offering you his arm, obvious lightheartedness and amusement in his voice.

“This is your castle, your grace, I’d be honored”.

Kaminari guides you through the place and you notice for the first time how comfortable you feel holding his arm, and how much you wouldn’t mind staying like this all night, that thought brings a heat wave towards your face and you hope that he doesn’t notice it.

/////////

Sometimes Denki really hated being a prince, and especially one that was to rule the kingdom one day. The long hours spent in his room with tutors and teachers of all sorts teaching him how to be wise, and diplomatic and a just king have always felt like too big of a chore.

Other times however, he didn't mind being the prince, like right now, while he is seating with you in the gardens, berries and cheese melting in his mouth while the water from the fountain next to the two of you is running.

He has taken his shoes off and the sun paints your skin in a soft gleam that makes you look beautiful, and as you bite a particularly juicy strawberry Kaminari wonders for the first time ever what would it be like to kiss you.

“You look like you’re thinking something,” you say, stretching your arms above your head, the gentle breeze bringing the smell of spring with it: a mix of flowers, grass and heat. “Don’t strain too much or you’ll get a headache”.

He looks dazed for a second, but then he smiles. “You should know about that right? Heard your tutor quit on you again”.

Your cheeks taint in embarrassment and you try to defend yourself. “We had different points of view and he couldn’t keep teaching me”.

“Different points of view?” He mocks, “I bet he tried to tell you that you should stop studying astronomy cause it’s not a necessary subject for someone of your position”.

“It’s too big of a world to only focus on what’s in front of us, don’t you think? Everyone should be able to question what’s beyond the sky”.

/////////

The sun is setting, and the sky is a watercolor mix of pink, purples and golden orange, you are walking through the hallways of the castle towards an unspecified location cause Kaminari has been adamant in telling you where is he taking you.

“Where are you taking me, we’ve been walking for at least an hour?”

“Wait a little longer and you’ll know”.

“It’s getting dark, there’s no even a point in being out so late, my family is permissive but even the prince is going to need to explain as to why he is keeping me out so late”.

He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, and grins at you. “Your family adores me, besides, I’m the prince so I can keep you around as long as I want”.

You enter another long corridor and you’re sure you’ve never been to this part of the castle, Kaminari leads you to a long set of stairs that climb up what it seems to be a tower.

“This way, my lady”. There’s something different in his intonation this time, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but aside from the usual pompous mocking tone in his voice he sound different, softer even, and something stirs inside of you.

By the time you reach the end of the stairs you’re getting out of breath.

“Did you bring me all the way here to get rid of me by throwing me out of the window of this tall tower?” You take a moment to even your breathing and add: “If that’s the case I retire every bad thing I’ve ever said of you, including that time I said you’d be known as the king with the worse aim in the history of the realm”.

There’s no snarky response from his part, and it stranger you, you stare directly into his eyes only to see him standing in front of something, giving you a look you can’t quite read.

“I wanted to give this to you before I left, but it took longer to be ready than what I was expecting.”

You are positively confused now, and he looks both excited and ashamed for some reason.

“I thought that I’d have more time to tell you…” he cuts himself, and looks to the side for a moment before continuing. “You know we’ve been in an armistice with the Kugo kingdom, it didn’t turn out so good so father and I are going to the front lines”.

“The front lines?” The implications of his statement hit you like if a thinker has just hit you, you’ve never been hit by one of course, but you feel every part of your body lit up by a buzz that has you trembling in the spot.

“You’re going to war?” You say in a quiet, almost whisper like tone, but at the same time you can feel rage bubbling behind your words.

“In three days, yes”. He doesn’t have the courage to lie to you, not anymore, he’s been having nightmares about this day for more than a month. Dreading thinking about leaving, about losing the war and never seeing you again, about leavening without having kissed you, but overall, about you hating him for leaving like this.

The hurt in your eyes, pierces a hole into his chest, and he doesn’t dare to say anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Honestly?” he looks down for a second before answering, “I was scared”.

You he stay don’t know if you should yell, or cry, you’re overwhelmed and don’t even know how to answer, so you are glad when he speaks again.

“I got you a present, something that hopefully will make you less angry at me”. He says with a sheepish smile on his face, when he steps to the side you are met with a beautiful telescope that by the looks of it it’s made of pure gold.

You can’t help to let out an impressed sigh at the beautiful object, and you walk towards it without noticing it. You examine every detail, every dip and ridge and the more you look at it the more impressed you are.

“Do you like it?” Kaminari can’t help but smile at the awe in your eyes, and your expression softens when you look at him.

Tears come into your eyes and you throw yourself over him before you can think about it, you’re holding him for the the first time, so closely, so intimately that the heat from his body becomes yours. And you don’t wanna let go of him, you don’t want him to leave.

“Please Denki,” you beg, broken voice and your head resting on his shoulder, “Please don’t die, come back, please”.

Kaminari’s heart clenches and he hold you tighter against himself.

“I promise, look at the stars for me in the meantime.”

/////////

It’s been six months since Denki’s departure, and three weeks since your last letter to him and he hasn’t answered yet and you’re growing anxious. It doesn’t matter how much you try to rationalize your fear it’s like a knot has settled into your guts and it grows heavier with everyday you pass apart from him.

Fear has never been so real in you life, and some days you can’t even sleep, nightmares of Kaminari alone and hurt haunt your dreams and you awake covered in cold sweat.

Another three weeks pass before you hear from Kaminari again, but it’s not from himself, news from the prince return travel across the kingdom and you can only wonder why he didn’t tell you himself that he was coming back.

When you are summoned to the castle to see an apparently badly injured Kaminari your fear can’t but grow, and you pass the entire journey towards the palace clutching at curtains from the carriage. You reach the doors to his chambers faster than you would’ve thought and you stand outside for what feels like hours, not ready to see him yet, not knowing what to expect you sight loudly before finally opening the big, heavy wooden doors.

“Took you long enough”. He’s smiling, slightly and when he moves to sit instead of remaining laying in his bed you can see the pain in his eyes and hear the wince that escapes through his lips.

You emit a sigh that’s a mix between a sob and a laugh and forget all decorum by running towards his frame, now sitting atop his bed. You can see the bandages that cover the right side of his chest and the majority of his right arm. His face is covered in small bruises that are healing and to your surprise a somewhat long scar in his bare torso.

He sees the way you eye the scar and grabs your hand between his own palms. “You should wait and see the one under the bandage”.

“That’s not funny”. You say, letting your head lean atop of his hold of your hand.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)”.

“You should, I’ve been going crazy thinking I would lose you”.

“I’ve been going crazy thinking I would lose you.” He softly lifts your head and looks into your eyes.

He chuckles lightly and sighs. “Huh, I thought this would be easier after being stabbed 3 times but I guess not”.

“Three times?” You ask, alarm in your features.

“There’s another scar in my back”. He shrugs and sighs again. “Look, all I could think when I was gone was how I never told you…”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you can suddenly feel your heartbeat in your stomach.

“We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, It’s funny, but I can’t think of a day where I haven’t thought that I wanted to see you, or be with you I-” he clears his throat the slightest tiny of read coming to his ears. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is that… I don’t want that to change and that if you could lean down so that I can kiss you I could die happily right now”.

The biggest smile you’ve ever show is showing in your lips, lighting up your eyes and making your insides warmer than ever before.

You lean down slowly, and you are sure that you’re burning hot, Denki lifts his healthy arm and caresses your cheek with a feather like touch, it raises goosebumps on your skin and you close your eyes to the touch.

Kaminari’s fingers travel to your lips and his calloused fingers trace them with care. His hand holds you by the neck and you can hear him whimper before he moves, a second later his lips are touching yours, it’s warm and it’s send shivers down your spine, like if a spark was traveling inside of you, you hand is in his chest and you can actually feel the rapid beating of his heart.

You part away, smiling like a couple of fools. Denki emits a loud laugh.

“On a second thought, I’d rather not die today, I wanna kiss you all day, every day for the rest of my life”.

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha headcanons #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #snapdragon-mina #bnha spring time #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #writings

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taecalikook · 5 years

Text

What we are not; Soulmates (chapter 1)

summary: you love yoongi with all your heart throughout these five years being in a relationship with him. you always thought he is the one — your one, even when the infamous soulmate signs are still not showing. yet you always wait, because you know it’s him you are destined to be with, forever. but what would happen if then his childhood best friend comes along, with the universe-signed telltales that you have been looking for true love in all the wrong places?

{soulmate!au, established relationship!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader x kim taehyung

genre: fluff, angst, emotional hurt and slow burn(?) i guess lol

chapter : prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | epilogue

word counts : 9.038

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

Five years.

Tomorrow will mark the five years you have been together with Yoongi. You met him when you were performing at your ballet recital six years ago, when you were still a hopeful ballerina student. He is mixing the music—with the reference from Hoseok, your dancer friend. Hoseok always used Yoongi’s remixes for his dancing routines and you always loved them, so you show interest in working with the infamous producer even if your ballet is 180 degree contrasts from Hoseok’s street dance mixes. Gladfully, at that time Yoongi agreed to the job (you can’t deny that Hoseok really did pull a few strings to convince him to take such a never-done-before job).

Few nights spent together to practice and mix to perfect the routines bloomed into something more. You liked him—obviously with the way you always expressed how much you care for him and his well-being, but Yoongi was just.. being Yoongi. You found several times that Yoongi might reciprocate how you felt about him—about his careful touches and how much he minded your health—but you figured he could act the same with other people too. It was confusing and heartbreaking simultaneously.

And to mention that if it were not for Hoseok, Yoongi probably will never say to you what you actually mean to him. After several abhorring mutual pining and an over-the-top recital, you were already accepting your fate that he might not be the one for you. But when Yoongi shows up in front of your apartment with your favorite purple tulips—a bucket of them and an embarrassed smile, you know you are sold. For him.

It has been quite a journey, all the ups and downs with the most unromantic person ever to breathe on this planet. Well, that's over exaggerating but at least the point is taken, right? Yoongi is emotionally constipated, that’s one efficient way of explaining it. He is truly the kind of boyfriend who will pat your head like a freaking puppy and calls it affection. Yoongi also spends most of his time in the studio, making music and beautiful lyrics, and you love how in love he is about his music—especially when his passion is the one introducing you to him—but you cannot lie that you wish that he would pay more attention to you too.

But now you are getting restless. Where are the signs?

Yoongi is the one for you, your heart just knows it. He speaks love, and his gentleness and understanding are immeasurable. He takes care of you the best, like no one ever does, even better than your parents. But how come the signs that he is rightfully your soulmate are not showing?

Ah, soulmate. There are a lot of stories about them. Some may find them on the train home from work. Some may find them while ordering coffee in the cafe near university. Some may take a little more time, one day touching with their best friend and feel the electricity, and there will be signs of a matching soulmate. You just hope it is the latter, yet the restlessness grows with an immaculate speed inside your mind. It’s already five years of you in a commitment relationship with Yoongi and nothing, not even a single clue shown. Whenever the restlessness strikes your pessimistic mind, you quickly take a breath and remind yourself that it should not affect your relationship with him. The right time will come.

“Baby, don’t forget I already booked a restaurant for tomorrow.” You warnfully remind him while putting all your ballet belongings into a duffel bag, gifted by Yoongi for your birthday two years ago. “I will never forgive you if you forget tomorrow.”

Yoongi’s light chuckle is heard on the other side of the call, unknowingly putting a gentle smile on your lips. You could not really imagine how Yoongi can cope up with your fretful ass, but otherwise you are glad he is here to stay. “Y/N, you already remind me for the third time today. Yes, of course I will come.”

“I just don’t want you bailing on me after I’m waiting for you at the restaurant. I am not letting our one year anniversary happen again.” You pouted, a flash of four years ago went inside your mind. A day prior to your one year anniversary, Yoongi spent the full night finishing his demo and overslept the whole day of your anniversary while you still idiotically believed that he was planning for a surprise. What a doofus, you thought bitterly. You would rather kill yourself than to let that happen again—or let Yoongi take the lead to plan your anniversaries.

“Of course… sweetheart.” Yoongi hesitatingly calls you pet name after a long pause, and a sly grin subtly forms on your lips. He is so cute when he is trying to be romantic. “I swear to the seven seas I will come to our anniversary dinner. As a matter of fact, I will be there with a nice shirt too. Would you like that?”

You hum your agreement, content with his thoughtful answer. Yoongi realizes how much these events meant to you—and his thoughts warmed all your being. After a short halt, you unknowingly speak your deepest fear, one topic that you both have been avoiding since forever. “I hope tomorrow the signs will come.” The words you let out brings a whole dense pause on his side—like it aggressively bothers him until he sighed into the communicator. “Don’t put pressure on it, Y/N.”

“I am just hoping. There is no fault in a mere hope.” You frown, disliking the accusing tone of his words. Yoongi answers with another silence, and you do not want to hear any insufficient answer to him regarding the topic, hence you just mutter a simple goodbye and end the call. And since Yoongi is not really the type to dwell on the possibility of you being mad at him, you sure he must be handling all these concerns well. It must be easy for him to disregard the fact that the soulmates signs are not showing for the both of you and it angers you. A lot.

A tear inevitably escapes your eye, but you quickly swipe it and run to your car, heading to the ballet school, or your workplace.

You stand in front of your mirror at your cubicle, patting foundation on your pale skin. After teaching the beginner ballet class for your young students, it was only one and a half hours to prepare your anniversary dinner with Yoongi. Inside your heart, you are greatly looking forward to it—especially after Yoongi heed more attention to you and messaged his apologies for the insensitive answers during the call and told you he loved you. He is surely better at typing it than telling it to your face directly, you think giddily and happily continue your makeup routine.

Just remembering his sweet message brings all kinds of butterflies in your stomach. You swore that he’d be the death of you—all these acts are causing you bad that you are not thinking straight. Yoongi is the type to leave you speechless in whatever he does, even the small ones. And this major pessimistic side of you does bring some good in your relationship, you appreciate every little thing he does. You are deeply in love with him, even after all these long five years. They always say love will turn sour if you are not having it with your soulmate, but you find yourself falling in love deeper everyday and there is no doubt in your heart that he must be the one. Your one.

“Hey, lovebird.” You snap your heads up, meeting the playful grin from your fellow ballet teacher named Mina. She greasily winks and you chuckle, shaking your head and looking back into the mirror on the mahony table. “Are you going on a date with Yoongi tonight?”

“Yes. This is our five year anniversary today.” You hum with great pride. Your relationship with Yoongi is probably one thing you can ever be happy and be proud of. Your lackluster life is most definitely not one of them “We are having our anniversary dinner and I wish it would be enjoyable.”

“Of course it would be amazing. And mind blowing as well, you get me?” She wriggles her eyebrows, and you bitterly chagrin, silently crossing your fingers for it is not to be an innuendo. “I hope you have a pleasant night, babe. Don’t tire yourself too much, m’kay? You have classes tomorrow and I do not want to take your shift.”

You roll your eyes, but could not hide the blush shaping on your cheek. But you would be lying to tell that you did not expect that to happen. You even wear your best matching lacy panties and bra—just in case. But above anything, you just wish it would truly be an enjoyable dinner with Yoongi. You never knew your luck when it comes to him that it is even hard to believe that this could actually be happening.

“By the way, see this!”

You head up from gazing far into your table to Mina’s vibrant expression. She points to a purplish bruise engraved on the side of her arm. You first thought it was because she hurt herself for the nth time already, but then you notice how it shapes differently from the usual bruise. You gasps loudly, jumping on your spot in complete delight. “You met your soulmate, Mina?!”

“Yes!” She shouts animatedly, a tear substantially forms on her eyes. You clasp her fingers inside your arm, cannot wait for the continuation of the cute story. “I met him yesterday when I was drinking with my friends. I was drunk—oh God, how can I be that drunk is beyond me—and this man sitting on the bar held my arm to stop me from falling. And then I literally sobered up! I felt it—the electricity of him touching me. Then I just knew it.” She cries again, her lips quivering from the euphoria of the event. You swiftly jump into her welcoming arms, holding her close to you in a blissful happiness.

“I am really, really happy for you, Mina. You can’t even believe it.” You whispered to her, your heart beating fast. You can’t even believe how much Mina deserves to meet her soulmate. It has always been hard for her, all the things that have been going on but she always strengthens herself and endures all the pain altogether. You are eternally thankful that your best friend finally met the one—the one would gladfully and rightfully share her happiness, concerns and problems so she does not have to face everything alone.

“Thank you.” She mutters lightly, giving you a light squeeze before letting you go. “We just know Yoongi is the one, huh babe? The signs will come, I just knew it with you and him.”

You put a grim smile, the one you can let out when Mina brought up a topic that has been bothering your mind a lot. It’s not like you to feel envious of her on anything—you are a keen believer of everyone on their own lane and comparison is toxic to its core—but you somehow feel frustrated. You wish that everything would be easier on you and Yoongi but that is most absolutely not the case. You just have to be patient, you calm yourself, trying to get your scattered thoughts together.

“I hope it will.”

You are seated in your car, your fingers resting on the wheel. The extravagant restaurant in which you will celebrate the anniversary is not that far from your workplace, but somehow you find the streets are two times more packed than usual. Based on the maps, it turns out there was an accident on the road ahead of you. The people on the cars are already evacuated, but the cars are still pulled with docks, hence the congestion. The accident must be new, you think to yourself and while not paying much attention.

Shrugging it completely from your mind, you turn your car to find an alternative way. Your fingers turned into the phone on your grasp, finding that there are no new notifications yet. Yoongi has not replied to your reminder messages for the dinner, and it burdens your mind a lot. It can’t be, right? You know Yoongi’s car like the back of your head and based on the news you read, it was not it. He is probably on the way, you internally reason yourself to calm the intrusive thoughts—which ironically is your specialties.

But then another twenty minutes passed and Yoongi still has not replied. You are still inside your car in the restaurant parking lot, deciding not to step inside and embarrass yourself if anything comes his way and he decided not to come. It would be infuriating and sadly, possible.You groan, everything sucks and you hate your boyfriend now.

You decided to call him again. Exactly four beeps and the voice you waited the most is heard. “H.. hello?”

“Yoongi! Yoongi, where are you?! I am already here at the restaurant and you did not reply my messages and I—“

“Y/N— I am terribly sorry. I am sorry for everything but I can’t come to you right now. I’m sorry.”

And then he shut the call.

And then you throw your phone, tears substantially forming on your eyes.

You are a zombie. 80% of your time you are spacing out, the 10% you are crying and the rest are you trying to suck it all up and do something but still fail miserably. It sucks how much these things—or rather Yoongi, affects you. You do not want to feel this way for him, he was such an ignorant jerk and you are feeling ten times worse than you should be, since he does not explain a single thing to you, even a reason for his absence the night before and did not bother to even clarify for a whole day. You know you deserve better treatment from a boyfriend, but you still cannot help how much you still hope he will do something about his mistakes. What a fool, you absentmindedly think to yourself, the pain is too unbearable to hold yourself.

After completing your whole days in the ballet school, it was already 10PM. You should not stay this late, but your mind bothers you too much and to be left alone would only wallow you into sadness and it’s the last thing you want. You actually thought of calling him to ask about everything—what are you to him exactly, but your pride won’t let you. You should not be that easy for a fact that he broke his promise without any notable reason. He is so selfish, and doesn't give any single shit about you. You should have known better.

Mina nonchalantly asked about the failed anniversary dinner last night, and the moment she questioned, you quickly burst into tears and stuttered words about how Yoongi abandoned the dinner for no exact reason. She held you close, trying to calm you and skillfully brought a smile to your face while lightly mocking your idiotic boyfriend. She even promised to keep you company tonight—after finishing her mother errands you both are going to the nearest bar and get drunk to the point of no return.

You just finish your warm shower, feeling completely refreshed from any kind of physical fatigue. Your ear perks up when hearing a rustling sound from the front door. Your mind turns cautious, as you remembered Mr and Mrs. Bong, the caretaker of the building already said their goodbyes a few hours before. There must be someone at the door.

But you know there should not be anything to be wary about. The neighborhood is the safest area in the city, for God knows it could be Mina, ready to take you into a whole night you’d regret in the morning. The thoughts instantly calm you, as you shuffle to open the door.

“Hey y—mmmph!”

Well, hell be damned because the person standing in front of you, taking you ransom and holding your lips close to his own is your boyfriend. Yoongi hoisted you up to his arms, your legs circling his waist to prevent yourself from falling down. The kisses are ferocious and his lips are cold, but it still sends butterflies to your stomach like you never felt before. But the memories quickly evades your mind that this man just fucking ghosted you on the night of your fifth anniversary, so you use all the strength left inside you to push him away, quickly jumping off him before everything is too late and you are back to forgiving without any further claims on his fault. You are not that easy—and the thought of taking this lightly disturbs your whole being.

“Stop, Yoongi! You don’t deserve to do all this when you just ignored me after promising the whole night of our anniversary together.” You shout directly to his face and try to be as curt as you can force, but your voice is breaking and the tears are already pooled on the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall out. You are crushed inside a tidal wave of emotion, your chest heaving irregularly from the thing that just transpired. The anger quickly turns into sadness and you try to manage your own breath or it will soon hurt you.

“Baby, I’m so sorry…” Yoongi unexpectedly bursts literal tears, and it stops the anger and frustrations bubbling up on your throat. “I know I don’t deserve you. You are the best girlfriend I—no, everyone could ever ask for. I love you so much and I never felt so irresponsible to ignore you like I did last night.”

You are waiting for him to continue, sensing the edge to his sentences. The tears were completely a show stopper for all your excessive emotions.

“Taehyung—he.. he got into a car crash and had to undergo surgeries.”

Yoongi sweeps the tears away with the back sleeve of his hand. “At that time, I was on my way to the restaurant. But—but when I received the news, I was so panicked I immediately went to the hospital. When you called, I was out of my mind, and I knew I did not say what I should have said.” He whispered lowly, eyes locked on the floor like he is a kid under a punishment. You wait for him to continue.

“After arriving at the hospital, his father ordered me to stay while he was undergoing surgery. It was a literal hell, Mr. Kim was super furious at me at his son's accident and asked me to take responsibility until the surgeries were completed. And I was going to let you know, I really was but I literally do not know where or when I lost my phone. I-i should’ve let you know sooner. It was my fault, but you have to know that his father won’t let me do anything and I came s-straight after—“

By his last sentences, Yoongi is already stuttering and trembling. You could sense how much he despises himself, and it hurts you that he has to blame himself for whatever happened. You hold him inside your arms, your arms tightly secure around his waist. Yoongi shuts himself, quickly shambles into louder tears he has been trying to suppress as he reciprocates your calming hug. You understand him—you understand his reasons and you trust him with all your heart.

You’ve heard about Mr. Kim and Taehyung previously from Yoongi, even rarely hear about them recently. Mr. Kim is Yoongi’s adoptive parents. Yoongi’s birth parents died in a plane crash when he was a kid—he was only nine by then. By law, his custody is transferred to his uncle—the evil side of the family that is on a bad term with his parents. He was treated inhumanely. Yoongi won’t go into details but you could feel how much he hated it there, all the abusive and discrimination he had to face at such early age. After suffering a severe punishment for not obeying his uncle's order, he ran away from the house slash hell. On his way to nowhere, he saw a kid, crying and lost in the park. A boy named Kim Taehyung.

Seoul, South Korea

18 years ago.

“Hi, who are you? Why are you crying?” Yoongi walked closer to a little kid—probably a few years younger than him—sniffling with his reddened nose. His little arms were cradling a small brown teddy bear, eyes full of tears but still showing wariness over the stranger—which was Yoongi. The boy took a step back, and Yoongi stopped in his place so the boy would not run away.

“I—I’m not supposed to talk to a stranger, father said..” he whispered in fear and hesitation, but Yoongi shrugged and instead smiled, holding out his hand. “Hi, I am Yoongi, 10 years old. There, we’re no longer strangers. Who are you? And why are you here alone?”

Listening to the witty answer by Yoongi, the boy quickly showed a wide smile, showing a tad cute boxy smile. “I’m Taehyung, 7 years old. I don’t know where my nannies are. We went out, and it’s a secret—but I don’t really like them, so I ran away and now I can’t go back home.” He silently muttered with a deep frown and slumped shoulders and Yoongi held his shoulder, forcing the boy called Taehyung to look back at him.

“Hey, running away from someone who cares for you is not good. You shouldn’t do it. Your parents could be worried sick for you.” Yoongi warned with a friendly gesture. Taehyung folded his hands in front of his chest, his lips jutted in childish anger.

“But they never cared for me. They only care about my father’s order.”

Yoongi smiled knowingly, holding his hand out to Taehyung. “Don’t worry, we will find them and then you can be angry. Okay?” Yoongi knew his words were not comforting even the slightest, but he was glad that Taehyung complied with a smile. He wouldn’t know what to do if Taehyung threw a fit or refused to come with.

“Let’s go find your nannies.” Yoongi pulled Taehyung by the hand, his eyes looking for people that must be trying to find the boy on his grasp right now.

Then across the street, Yoongi noticed several men and women calling the boy’s name—who Taehyung then pointed at as his nanny and guards. After safely confirming that they are indeed the correct ones, he wanted to walk away, but the adults stopped him and asked him to come with them. Yoongi was not sure, but the idea sparked Taehyung’s mind as he ran from his nannies grasp, cried loudly and refused to be separated from Yoongi. “You have to come! I don’t want to go if you are here. Come one, Yoongi hyung!”

Yoongi was going to reject his advances, but one of the aged nannies that looked incredibly pale and tired after running far only to find the boy hiding inside a park pleaded with him to come with. The adults kindly asked him to follow them, so Yoongi obliged. It was rare for him to find how respectful someone could be to a ten years old, so Yoongi felt like it was a good choice to obey. He trusted Taehyung and his nannies and guards.

Arriving in a luxurious car at a monstrous large house, Yoongi concluded that Taehyung’s family was loaded—like crazy loaded. Taehyung was quickly taken to the back by his nannies, while Yoongi was asked to wait for Taehyung’s father who wanted to meet him. Before Taehyung took a bath, he ran to Yoongi's side in a rushed expression. “Hyung, you have to be there when I finish, okay?”

Taehyung’s hopeful gaze resulted in a quiet comforting hum from Yoongi. While waiting, he finds a few facts from Mrs. Yoon—the aged nanny from before—that Taehyung’s mother died when birthing him, and how Taehyung had an issue with making friends. To his courtesy, all the people in his class were idiots and snobby, and he never got along with even one of them. To be honest, Yoongi could understand the younger boy by heart. He himself did not get along with most of his classmates. Other than that, Taehyung also did not like his nannies, always refusing to play or even talk to them. He was severely lonely—to the point of making his own imaginary friends. Yoongi thought it was understandable, but Taehyung was seven years old then. That concerned his father a lot.

The stories from Mrs. Yoon went to a halt when his father arrived, asking him for a private meeting for only the two of them. Seated on a comfortable spinning chair in the wide room filled with bookshelves, the man throwed a few questions about his life. But Yoongi did notice that the old man did a background check on him beforehand. Mr. Kim knew about his family situation, his parents' accident, his uncle's family, where he went to school, etc. That’s exactly when the old man popped a question Yoongi could never guess.

“Do you want to live here? With Taehyung?”

By then, everyone knew that the man expected something from him. There’s no such thing as free living, but then Yoongi really does not know where he should go, how he is going to continue his life. He does not have a roof over his head, and after his extensive research using a computer at school, he would be deported to some child protection agency or worse, back to his uncle's house. Just thinking about it sent him shudders, so he nodded hesitantly as an approval. The father showed a small grin, satisfied with Yoongi’s easy compliance.

It’s in Yoongi’s understanding that he owes everything—even his life to the Kim family. And he is also well aware that in Mr.Kim’s eyes, he was just another, same-aged nanny to his precious son, someone who seven year old Taehyung could actually listen to—even until now. You heard how Yoongi was basically Taehyung’s nanny, so whenever it seemed like Taehyung did not meet his father's expectations or wants, the man would first contact Yoongi for clarity or some good scolding. It worsened when Taehyung grew up, the old man was angry at Yoongi several times when Taehyung failed his exam, escaped from home to attend his friend parties—or basically doing what most teenage boys would do. Yoongi would cover for him, taking the blame instead, but still Yoongi never hated Taehyung. He never could. Taehyung is his dearest, precious brother that he would trade everything for.

Everything actually got better for Yoongi when Taehyung and his father had to move to America after the family company advanced and growed like a wildfire. Taehyung was twenty, Yoongi was twenty three by then and already found his interest to be a music producer. His father took Taehyung to study business in America, along with him—already aligning him for the highway inside the company, in which he would take over after his father positions someday. But Yoongi said to you, with sparkling proud eyes—how talented his brother was at business and how proud he was of him.

After they left, Yoongi was devastated that he had to be seperated from Taehyung, but do realize the positive side no longer held in charge of the younger boy by his father. And in the exact same year, he met a hopeful ballerina offering a music editing job—you. He is not complaining at all.

“He finished his studies and just graduated, so he decided to come back to Seoul to study the company branch here.” Yoongi mutters while you hold him close, your finger draws circular motion on his back. Both of you are now seated still on the sofa of your workplace. “The only reason his father lets him go back to Seoul on his own is he knows Taehyung would then be under my watch.”

You hissed, gritting your teeth at the thought of a freaking twenty five years old man needing to be watched. You can’t even think how Yoongi—or even Taehyung felt about this. Super typical of those rich men to be acting that way, and just listening to the stories make you feel sick. “You can imagine how furious he was when Taehyung had the accident, Y/N. He literally created a video conferencing room in the hospital to even scold me, asking for an update every hour for Taehyung’s surgery.”

“I know and I felt sorry for you.” You mutter as you feel Yoongi’s head leaning on your shoulder. He must be excessively tired by now, you figure so you rest your palm on his supple cheek, caressing them lightly and affectionately. “I’m sorry that I overthink everything. You know—”

Yoongi cuts you with a sudden kiss, his arms sneaking on your sides, unto your back while pushing you to rest on the sofa. His lips are warm and welcoming, and most importantly, feels as familiar as ever. The kiss doesn’t feel rushed, just perfect to send how he wished to just kiss you and forget about everything. It sends rushes in your vein, your heartbeat hastens and your mind blank in nerves. “I don’t say this much, but I am truly, truly in love with you, Y/N. Happy fifth anniversary, baby.”

The tears lounging on the corner of your eyes are out, streaming on the side of your cheek, but Yoongi swept them away with a kiss, peppering them all over your face. You chuckle, pushing him away jokingly but then he held your hand to your side, leaning his forehead on yours with a deep stare. “Say it back, Y/N. You need to say it back.”

You wanted your usual witty answer for his pleading, but you find yourself lost in his eyes and seriousness in his words, then it’s done. You are irrevocably sold for him. “I will always love you, silly. You know it. Happy fifth anniversary...”

You are about to smother him with kisses again, when a cough was heard from the door. A sly looking Mina stands by her spot, grinning to both you and your boyfriend’s position which is not very compromising to the unknowing eyes. Yoongi quickly shifts himself to a sitting position, face and ears turning red from being caught by his girlfriend’s best friend. You shot Mina a dirty look of annoyance for her unwanted interruption, folding your hand on your chest.

“Sorry to interrupt love birds, but Y/N! I figured our night out is cancelled, right?” Mina wiggles her eyebrows and Yoongi reverts his questioning gaze to you. You turn red from thinking about the silly reason for your supposed night out with Mina, in which you are damned if Yoongi ever gets his hand on it. “Should have known you’d ditch me the second Yoongi is here. But seriously guys, I don’t care if you fucking, but you need to close the door. And please don’t ever do it on our sofa. It’s fucking disgusting.”

“Mina, get out!” You hiss in embarrassment, and Mina quickly holds her hand in surrender, sends her goodbye and escapes from the place—or your incoming wrath. After hearing a soft thud signaling Mina’s exit, Yoongi then pulls you close to his arms, his lips attached on your temple in butterfly kisses.

“I’ll kill her tomorrow, I swear to God—“

Yoongi’s chuckle vibrates on your skin. “Hey, it was actually good that Mina was here. Or else I would ravish you right on this sofa and you would never see your workplace the same again.” Yoongi’s kisses travel south to your neck in a teasing manner. “Like I do with my studio.” Yoongi slyly whispers and your breath hitched, a wince of realization shown on your head. You fucked a lot, like a lot in Yoongi’s studio, and it is not a secret that Yoongi would pop a sudden boner just thinking about the dirty things you both did on nights staying in the studio. That’s why you and him create forbids-sex-on-workplace as a policy, but the truth to be told, it is not complied well.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and enjoying each other’s presence, Yoongi lets you go. You frowned, not wanting to be separated from his addictive warmth. “You can go home now, Y/N. It’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Where are you going? You can stay on mine for tonight.” Your frown deepens, not liking the idea of sleeping alone for tonight. Your roommate is staying out of the city, and you just reconciled with Yoongi. You do not want to be left alone, you just want to be with him.

“I have to go back to the hospital. Mr. Kim has already been blowing up this replacement phone he gave me.” He tiredly chuckles, checking the vibrating phone from his pocket. You glance at the name appearing on his phone screen and sigh, not liking how Yoongi would have to deal with that old hag again for the night. “I swear I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise.” You grimly nod, Yoongi’s slender finger holding either side of your face, pushing forward to kiss your temple once again.

“Or you can visit Taehyung, too! It would be great to finally meet the man that I am babysitting, right?” He let out satire jokes, and you chuckle and shake your head in amusement. He envelops you close inside his arms, and you could feel how tired Yoongi is and how bad he wishes to never let you go. It warms your heart that you could always feel his love not only by his words. For Yoongi, his loving gesture definitely speaks louder than any words he says.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I want you to finally meet him.” He whispered with seriousness to your ear, even with the lips attached to the side of your neck, nibbling in a playful manner.

“I want the most important woman in my life to meet the most important man in my life. It would be a dream of mine.”

You hum an agreement. “Hoseok will be sad to hear that.” You tease him, once again pressing a deep kiss on his supple, delicious lips. Both of you let go with a deep sigh of contentment. “Okay, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow in the hospital.”

Oh, how naive you are, just nonchalant to how vicious the universe would play on you for agreeing to the love of your life’s most sincere wish.

You stood in front of the extravagant private hospital in which Yoongi mentions Taehyung is in, with a bucket of blue lilies on your grasp. The morning went well—weirdly. It seems like everything aligns better than they have ever been. The usual congested road is clear, the weather is extraordinair and you wake up exactly before your alarm that really sets your mood right. You have no scheduled class to teach today, only a scheduled 3PM brainstorming session with Mina for the upcoming recital for your students. You are going to spend a few hours there to finally meet the man you heard so much about. Something unknowingly flutters inside your heart, and you don’t have a clear idea of why. You just conclude it as an excitement to finally meet a dearest friend of Yoongi.

You called Yoongi, mentioning your arrival and he asked you to come to the reception and mention your relation with him. You do so, but still have to fill out a form of visit, exchange your identity card and another strict protocol process to ensure you are not a threat and perfectly healthy. Yoongi mentioned the exhausting entree process, but you never knew it would be like this. It’s not like Taehyung was sick to the point of needing to be quarantined or anything—but as you remember how annoyingly protective his father is of him, you could only be forced to understand.

“That’s a beautiful flower.” The nurse suddenly mentions with a slight smile while you are filling up the tedious forms.“I know Taehyung would like it. He never received flowers before.”

Suddenly, you don’t know exactly why a sickening feeling trickles inside your chest. The words thrown by the nurse are sad—you are acquainted with it but the nauseous feeling was like a knee-jerk reaction from you. You gulp, trying to hold yourself from any further falling into the unexpected feeling inside your body.

After completing all the forms and receiving back your ID, the nurse asks you to come with a wide smile.“You can follow me.”

As Yoongi said, Taehyung’s room is on the high level, special for executive patients. The time wasted inside the lift was longer than you expected, so your gaze stills on the beautiful flower on your grasp. It was rare to even find such a blooming flower at this time of the year, but when in the flower shop, amongst all the beautiful flowers, something tells you that this is the one and you follow it.

“We’ve arrived, miss.” The nurse takes you away from your drifting thoughts, and you smile and nod and follow her behind. The hallways are quiet and desolate, the smell of hospitals strong on your senses. Somehow, your minds are rushed, cold sweat trickling on the side of your face. You don’t exactly know why your body is reacting this way—it was a first for you to ever feel such a strange sentiment.

When the nurse opens the door, your eyes firstly find his own. He is looking deep into you, eyes widened like somehow, he expected your presence.

And your head literally spins.

“You’re here. This is Taehyung. Taehyung, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

Yoongi is seated inside, noticing his girlfriend turns rigid. He can sense the air thickens inside the room, and nobody really responds to his introduction. He doesn't even know how the situation could result—meeting new people for both Taehyung and you is just as easy as a walk in the park. Mulling on his concern, he walks to your side, giving you a hastened kiss on your cheeks while your eyes are still trained on the boy laying on his back above the bed. “You okay?” He asks, voice laced with concern. You quickly shake your head, noticing how weird you have become since you arrived. You send him an assuring smile, trying to ignore your hasten breath. It was not your first time seeing his face—you saw it from a few photos Yoongi had on his phone, but the last photo was from five years ago and the man indeed matured a lot since then.

“You look pale, babe.” Yoongi frowns, his hands on the side of your neck, sensing how cold you are on his skin. You shake your head, muttering incoherent agreement to tell Yoongi that he has nothing to worry about. “I’ll get you something warm, okay? Stay here.”

And then silence ensues after a light thud from the door. You are looking back at him, blue lilies bouquet still closed in your grasp. He smirks, noticing how silent you have been at his presence.

“You do know that lilies are for funerals, right?”

The first words Taehyung said to you are to tease you for a flower you somehow mistakenly bought. You wince, hiding the flowers behind your back in sudden shyness. Just to be with him alone in such a short proximity results all kinds of nerves bubbling inside your chest. It feels funny, strange, but simultaneously warm. You can pinpoint any reason for that. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t really know…”

“No—I’m kidding. Come here.” Taehyung gestures to you to come closer, his hands offered at you. You foolishly point at yourself, asking whether he is actually asking for you. Noticing your bafflement, Taehyung chuckles lightly, and you swear something triggers your head for a thought to cross your mind about how his laugh is probably the sweetest laugh you have ever heard in your adolescent life. Wait—what the fuck were you thinking?

“No, the flowers I mean.” He smiles warmly, but continues with a cunning grin. “But won’t complain if you give me a hug.”

You roll your eyes at him, walking closer to hand him the beautiful blue lilies you have been holding since forever. Taehyung does not take it that immediate second, instead when you are ready to take your hand back to your side along with the bouquet, he suddenly grasps your wrist with his large palm, and then you feel it. You feel the electricity like you are burned, rushing from the lingering spot he touched you and spread all the way to all your senses. You also felt a slight burn on your wrist, in which you can see a purple bruise forming against your pale skin. You gasp, astonished at what just unfolds in front of you.

“You… you…” You mutter, as your lips are too frozen to continue. Your tongue is caught, your heart beat irregularly quickens as you look up at him, large eyes filled with fear, longing and endearment. He felt it as well—the electricity as he looked down, a matching mark was printed on his wrist. There is no way in hell that this is happening.

Taehyung looks at you, a strained, hard gaze filling his eyes. “I’m your soulmate.”

“N—no! No, you must be joking. I—we can’t be soulmates!” You hysterically yell, your brain is in haze at the things that just happened. You dreamt about this, you pray for this moment to finally happen, but it’s not him. You want it to be your Yoongi, the man you love for five years. Not his brother. Not his best friend. You felt terrible, your chest is hurting due to your heart not beating like it should have been for the few minutes you are inside the room.

“You are in pain... I can feel it in my chest..” He painstakingly whispered more to himself, his palm clenching on his chest. You stare at him in anguish, waiting for him to continue.

“I have been dreaming about a girl with blue lilies for months. It kept me awake at dawn, and I realized I had been crying in my sleep. It continued for awhile, and believe me, I went to the best doctors to fix these dreams and sleeping habits. I thought it was nothing but then they told me it must be my soulmate, a bond created by heavens. My soulmate is looking for me—” He takes a deep breath, and his beautiful large eyes find yours. Exactly when you feel a striking pain in your chest, as if your body can feel what he is experiencing right now.

“You are looking for me.”

The emotion pumping in your chest is too much to bear, so you run out without even waiting for Yoongi, with Taehyung’s voices still calling your name until it is only silence. You went outside, praying that you will not meet Yoongi on the way down. Everything makes zero sense, and you can’t even imagine what would happen if you saw your boyfriend's face now. You cannot lie that a future scenario that might ensue did cross your mind, that you finally belong to your soulmate, the universe-chosen one that you will spend eternity with. But above anything, you despise how your body reacted to it. That you somehow feel it’s the way everything is supposed to be. That you somehow have to be with him to achieve that infamous happiness the people are talking about.

Shaking your head, you quickly scramble to your car after arriving in the lobby. You desperately need sometimes to sort everything, your mind, your feelings and what you should do next. You are this close to a breakdown, and you can’t have those men anywhere near you for now.

It has been two days since you ran away from Yoongi and Taehyung, and you do realize Yoongi has already been blowing up your phone since the time you left Taehyung’s hospital. You are well aware that it’s childish and foolish for you to avoid confrontation, but your mind and heart does not want to deal with anything concerning those two boys. So you decided to take a break from work and go back to your parents house that night, after telling Yoongi something came up with your family. He immediately acknowledges your reason—he figured something must be serious since it’s really not you to go back to the place that disliked your decision for a career, even if it seems like your father already accepted your decision—or you hope so—so Yoongi wished you a good stay in your parents place. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he breathily whispered to the call.

“I love you, Y/N. Take care, okay? Tell me if anything happens, you know I’m here for you.”

And you foolishly answered the rare yet bitter sweet confession by your boyfriend of five year with a short hum before directly closing the call. It pained you greatly how much you know Yoongi loves you and you are about to lie or lose him forever, and heaven knows it’s the last thing you want to do. Mulling on every kind of possibility of a happy ending, you found none and spent all night crying on your pillow.

It’s nine in the morning, and you are seated on your old bed after running a few miles as your daily exercise—and to relax your mind from thinking too much about Yoongi and Taehyung. It’s your last day to run away from your real life, your job is already a havoc from you suddenly leaving. But you really needed this break, feeling somehow on the edge about everything.

While your mind wanders, suddenly your eyes fall to the bruise on your wrist—which color already turns vibrant blue, the exact color of the blue lilies you gave Taehyung the first time you met him. You feel your mood drops all of a sudden, and you can lightly guess what it is all about. Your soulmate on the other side is having an awful time. It’s not always that you feel what Taehyung is having, you always grade it as your body having its own mind, but you do perceive how powerful it has become now that you met him.

You immediately feel guilty, as you are well aware that Taehyung has been on his own emotionally—beside having Yoongi for a long time. So to finally meet a soulmate that already closed the door on the first meeting, you can’t imagine how upsetting it must be for him.

“Hey…”

You looked up to your mother, bringing a few sliced fruits, leaning on your door. You put up a restrained smile, making a bit of room for her to sit on your bed.

“Are you okay, honey? You haven’t been out since yesterday. I thought you came back to see a few old friends back here.” Your mother smiles, handing you the delicious looking plate. It’s peach, one of your favorite fruits. Usually you would directly jump in, but your stomach churn in displeasure, thinking that Taehyung must have not had food inside his stomach for a while now. You sigh, resting the plate on the nearest bedside. Oh, what an idiot he is.

Your mom sighs, looking at the fruit you haven’t even touched. But you abruptly push your wrist to her, and your mother gasps looking at the distinctive bruise.

“Oh my—honey, are you finally signed for Yoongi?!”

You wince, the pain strikes you hard, the tears falling on your cheek as you shook your head. You should have known. Everyone would always think it’s Yoongi—hell, even you yourself think your soulmate is Yoongi. It is ridiculous how these five years could go so breathtakingly well with two people who are not a paired soulmate. But somehow, against every stigma, you are. You are in an amazing, loving relationship with Yoongi where you would trade anything for his happiness. And now you are destined by the cruel universe to have an eternal soulmate bond with Taehyung, his dearest brother. This whole thing is so fucked up.

“No mom… it’s someone else…”

Then you cry. You cry, as your mom envelopes you on a tight hug, her palm caressing your back in a soothing manner. You spend some times that felt like an eternity in her arms, and you cannot be more thankful for her presence. You

“Soulmate or not, you are still my beautiful, strong daughter. You don’t need anyone to make you happy for you. You can go through this, honey.” Your mom kissed your forehead, her two palms on either side of your cheek then she looks into your reddish eyes, determination fills her beautiful brown orbs that is greatly reflected in yours. You nod with a thankful smile, then she pats your thigh and walks out, leaving you on your own.

Suddenly, your phone rang, disrupting the silence inside your room. You check the display, finding unknown numbers plastered on it. Thinking it might be your students, you swipe to answer the call, instead a baritone voice welcomes you on the other side.

“Hey, don’t you hurt yourself. I’m literally sick and do not need any additional pain from my soulmate for this stupid bond we have.”

Your heart literally skips a beat, definitely did not expect it would be Taehyung calling you. A warm fuzzy feeling embraces you, your head getting its own high as you felt the effect of two soulmates reaching for each other. It’s unfair how much an effect he is to you, even if deep down you are consuming the wondrous feeling of finally hearing his voice. It’s like your body has been craving contact with your soulmate. Like you have been waiting for him since forever.

“Hey…” You whispered, your throat strained for not speaking for a while. “Sorry. I’m just super distracted and I know I am really—”

“It’s okay.” He cuts you with a soft whisper—like he knows how much you want to avoid talking about the subject with your own mouth—and then your stomach embraced the butterfly inside by just hearing his sultry voice. “I understand how hard it must be for you. I felt it too. I love Yoongi hyung with all my heart, and I am racking my brains here on how to do… this.”

You notice how painful it is for him to say those words, signed by a contracting pain in your chest. You can’t figure whether it’s you or him, though. You keep your mouth shut. “Thank you. And I am sorry for everything. For running away. For these pains I cause you.” You whisper, your heart turns light at Taehyung’s understanding of your current situation. Well, it is your fault to somehow overthink everything, that Taehyung is somehow forcing all this soulmate thing to you. Even after the universe decides that you are his soulmate, your heart still belongs to Yoongi. Just thinking about what would happen to Yoongi after knowing about this results in a heavy urge for you to puke.

“Hey, I don’t think—“

“Yes, I know what you are thinking about and I agree. Yoongi hyung will know when the time is right.” Short, stuffy silence before he continues. “I believe it’s better for you to do it, though.”

You nod, your upper teeth crashing to your under lips in hesitation. “I.. I just never hide anything from him. Especially this big. It’s ridiculous to even hide anything in a five year old relationship.” You chuckle, trying to light up with a joke, but find no response from the other side of the call. Your lips tighten, feeling slight nausea in your body.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

That one question caught you by surprise. Of course you love Yoongi, that is such a ridiculous question for you to hear. Your answer should be a knee-jerk reaction, but something holds you back, and it seems like your body does not comply with what your heart is telling you to do. But finally after a few long seconds full of dense silence, you let out a hum, signaling an answer to him.

“Yes.”

Silence which feels like an eternity.

“He is one lucky guy.”

All of a sudden, your heart is clenched hard, until the pain seeps into your brain in a warning manner. A groan escapes your lips, but your teeth quickly stab your lips hard, trying to prevent any sound from coming out and hoping it could release the incredulous pain knocking your insides. Even if it hurts to the point like it is a struggle to even breathe, you manage to let out another hum to reciprocate his words.

After another long silence ensues, you raise your voice in a jokingly annoyed manner. “Hey, eat your food. I am seriously in pain because you haven’t eaten.” You angrily huff, and then hear a dry chuckle from Taehyung on the other side. You can’t bear a smile blooming on your lips hearing the wonderful sound of his laughter, and you don’t even know why your body is reacting this way and it flusters you.

“I will.”

“Okay.” You nod with a light hum, even if he can’t see it. You can imagine him biting his thin lips, agonizing what he probably is mulling in his mind right now. And you can’t bear to swoon just imagining the wonderful sight.

“So… I’ll see you soon?” He asked, full of hesitation and fear. Silence again...

“Yup. See you soon.” You reply, full of hesitation and fear. You swiftly end the call, burying your face on the bed, tears of anger and fear substantially raining out until there are no tears left to cry.

Yoongi, tell me what to do.. Cause I really don’t want to hurt you, yet it seems like I have to..

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

a.n = first chapter is up! woooohoooo i hope u guys like it! tell me what you think or if you want to be tagged in the next chapter, do let me know in comment / ask box. :)

#soulmate #bts #taehyung #yoongi #angst #fluff #bts taehyung #bts yoongi #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #bts boyfriends #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taegi #taehyung fluff #bts angst #soulmate bts

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cutiebeams · 4 years

Text

Hello TWEWY fandom, it's meta time.

TWEWY is filled to the brim with symbolism and hidden meanings, as we all know. Even the partners and their colors when they sync with Neku; I realized, have some depth, and I'm going to articulate my thoughts on it. This is going to be long, so get cozy.

Shiki

Let's start with the first partner we get. Her theme's red, and Neku's is blue. Before we even delve into this analysis, let's unpack the general symbolism of the colors themselves, because that is important as well.

Red: passion, love, anger, energy, courage

Blue: trust, loyalty, wisdom, intelligence, stability

These two colors are essentially on the opposing sides of the color wheel as well; the only shade darker than blue is purple (which is Neku's theme of his attire but that's not important rn stay with me fellas)

Red & blue are portrayed as opposites in a plethora of media and this is no exception: Shiki is the extroversion to Neku's introversion, the pathos to his logos, bubbly and chipper vs his stoic and reserved demeanor. Neku is outwardly hateful (towards other people and his circumstances), and Shiki is inwardly hateful (she hates herself to the point she doesn't think there's anything special about her)

As expected, they clash vehemently at first. Neku is extremely irritated by Shiki's energy and she is frustrated with how aloof and mean he can be. But as they get to know each other, they become like yin and yang; and Shiki's kinder qualities begin to rub off on Neku which he exhibits in the following weeks. Red is often symbolic of love; and Shiki shows a lot of it: she's very friendly and amiable, sympathizing with total strangers and getting along with almost everyone; but she's pretty feisty too- she gets visibly upset when Neku ignores her and makes himself difficult and she's not afraid to call him out (and she DOES, quite a few times). However, she is still overall kind to him, even when he's prickly; trying her best to be patient with him and her gentleness eventually wins him over.. eventually.

When confronted with an issue, Shiki seems to lean towards the emotional aspects of the matter, such as when Ai and Mina were at odds, she hesitated to bring the truth to light because she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship and emotional wellbeing; in contrast to Neku who wanted the truth to be brought to light as soon as possible because he felt that lying was wrong and it needed to be addressed sooner, rather than later, or things would just get worse. Or when 777 couldn't find his tech, Shiki listened to him vent out of sympathy while Neku agreed to help because of the logical results it'd bring-

Shiki is also very outwardly emotional: she's very chirpy but she also isn't afraid to openly express her sorrow, anger, or fear, and sometimes she gets overcome by her emotions. But for the most part, she exhibits high emotional intelligence and understanding of other's feelings; and she's essentially the group's moral support: she's one of the most verbal about being sure that they'll make it back and that they all need to work together. Shiki is also extremely passionate; about other people, about the things she creates, it spills into virtually every aspect of her life.

The sad thing though, is that Shiki seems to love everybody but herself, and we see tiny glimpses of this in her small moments of passiveness (such as telling Neku he doesn't have to shout when he snaps at her) On the flip side, Neku's blunt honesty gives Shiki the inner strength to not only face her self-hatred; but overcome it. And that brings me to Shiki's other color: green. You can see it in her stickers + it's her nickname in Another Day.

Green: nature, rebirth, growth, harmony, healing

I believe that this choice is two-fold: green also symbolizes envy and jealousy and this is something that Shiki's character battles with. She wants to be like Eri- beautiful, smart, charismatic; to the point she even tells Neku that she emulated Eri's personality at first because she was so excited to be in her body. But she then realized that she wasn't Eri, and would never be; nor did she ever want to be. What Shiki truly wanted was to love herself: and that's what her character arc encapsulates; a journey of self-acceptance and self-love.

When we finally get to see real game Shiki, she's wearing green because she's a new person, hence the themes of rebirth and harmony: she's confident and happy in who she is; and so the green changes from the negative connotations of jealousy and envy to the positives of steadiness and self-harmony. There's also healing, for both her and Neku: she helped him to open up emotionally and become gentler, and he helped her accept herself. We don't get to see her face because it doesn't really matter: as Neku himself said, "You'll always be Shiki." It's her character that is important, not her appearance. Green is also red's complementary color, and we see that rather than doing a complete 180 in personality, Shiki just gets a little milder. She's not quite as bubbly, but a lot of her passion is still there, it's just gentler.

In short, Shiki is Neku's opposite. They're like night and day: completely different, but inseparable.

Let's talk about Neku a while now, shall we? His color choice seems contradictory given his personality when we meet him: he is extremely distrusting, volatile and aloof. The thing is though, Neku's arc is also about growth and while he does not exhibit any of the traits of his color scheme at first; during the entirety of the game, he regains himself. Neku's character is about relearning how to trust people and not being afraid to be open and accept different points of view and values- and that diversity is good and healthy! During his first week with Shiki, we get very small glimpses of how emotional Neku actually is, particularly through inner monologue.

When Rhyme is erased, he's distraught (his thoughts tell us he feels awful) but he masks it with blunt logic ("Because we couldn't. That's how it was meant to be"), perhaps to avoid showing vulnerability, even declaring teaming up is a dumb idea- because people get hurt and there are situations where there's nothing you can do about it. Neku's rant when Shiki declares that Beat and Rhyme were their friends takes us right into his psyche:

"Who needs friends?! They just laugh and talk like idiots and pretend to agree with you- so you end up caring about them….exposing yourself...getting HURT..Screw it! We're better off without them! You want other people getting in your way? Dragging you down? I don't!"

And suddenly, Neku's prickliness makes sense- he views attachment as painful and vulnerability as a risk, and so he vehemently avoids them. He's mean because he's hurting and he's sad: and how fitting, as one of the negative connotations for blue is sorrow and grief. Remember how I said Neku didn't exhibit any traits of blue? Well, that was specifically for the positive ones.

Negative symbolism of blue: coldness, aloofness, lack of emotion, unfriendliness, sorrow

And that's Neku to a tee: at first, anyway. While his behavior is not justifiable, it is understandable.

When Shiki snaps at him and tells him that he's inhuman Neku doesn't show any outward response during the actual conflict, but the next day when she apologizes his sprite changes to the "sad turtle" and we get to see his thoughts again:

That I was no better than a Reaper…

Rhyme…

……………

Well...right now…

Neku proceeds to tell Shiki that they need to focus on the mission, and she agrees. While he isn't being especially friendly with her, it's leaps and bounds from his initial open hostility: he's more willing to work with Shiki towards a common goal and one could argue this is when his paradigm shift begins- her comment rattled him a lot, and Neku makes baby steps to change. The daily mission (which involves helping two friends address a misunderstanding) gives us more development for him, too. At this point, he still doesn't think conflicting views and values are a good thing and that relationships only hold him back; and he voices to Shiki that he doesn't see the point of friendships built on falsehoods (which is an excellent point and one that she actually agrees with) and we get to see one of Neku's good qualities: he values truth and honesty a lot.

She asks him if he truly thinks that people are better off without friends, and when he doesn't answer; Shiki talks about how meeting Eri made her want to be her best self (which is how ALL healthy relationships should be, whether platonic or romantic). She mourns Rhyme again, venting that it isn't fair she'll never know what dreams are like and this time, Neku doesn't deflect. He sympathizes, and for the first time since entering the game, allows himself to be emotionally vulnerable:

"I know. I…. I'm sad too. We'll just have to live a little extra. For her sake."

From this point onward, Neku begins to grow positively, slowly but surely. He's not friends with Shiki yet, but he feels safe enough in her company to not only express sorrow but caring enough to encourage her to keep pressing forward; for Rhyme's sake. The next day Shiki is quiet and sad due to being confronted on her self-hatred, and Neku doesn't know how to deal with her lack of cheeriness. But instead of being annoyed with her like before, he's visibly concerned and wondering what's wrong; and he tries to engage with her as much as possible: asking for her viewpoint on the daily mission and what they should do, etc. When he learns the truth about Shiki's identity, Neku just listens patiently and afterwards, his monologue is much more positive and understanding:

All this time..she's been as confused as me.

He now realizes that she's just as scared and upset as he is and he empathizes with that, going even further to say that "I like you the way you are" when Shiki expresses fear in being brought back due to her underlying jealousy: he appreciates her, every aspect of her; not because she's perfect, but just for who she is. Later on when Shiki hesitates to scan Eri and runs away Neku gives her the push to do so: as said earlier, he values the truth, and he knows that Shiki needs to face it if she's going to improve as a person- and we see him beginning to exhibit his wisdom. He's not really gentle, but his honesty is needed. When Shiki begins comparing herself to Eri and self-deprecating, he intervenes, in his own way:

"Oh, would you cut the crap? Who ARE you? You're you. You're not Eri. You'll never be Eri. You'll only ever be you."

Neku reiterates what Shiki told him earlier, about never wanting to be Eri, but he goes a step further. She only went as far as to say she wanted to love herself, but that she never could; while Neku asserts to her that being herself is absolute and unchangeable. Shiki mildly protests this though, saying that Eri is "so much better". To her, while she does value her identity the most, Eri's identity makes her feel inferior. She wants to be her own self, but Eri, in her eyes, is perfect, something that she cannot achieve. And that is why Neku's reply is so important.

"Forget her! You need to live your own life. If she can do it, so can you. All that matters is that you try. You're lucky you're jealous. It gives you something to shoot for. So..shoot."

Up to this point, Shiki has measured the worth of her identity based upon comparison to others, and Neku understands that and tells her upfront that she needs to stop trying to be somebody that she isn't and be confident in her own self, and just do her best- and that'll be enough. He also encourages her to use her jealousy in a productive way, to find her niche; her drive. This gives Shiki the courage to go back and listen to what Eri has to say, and in doing this she hears her friend praise her positive traits, ones that Shiki herself most likely never even realized: her empathy and love for people, her eye for detail, her skill in creating things, her passion and motivation-

ALL things, that according to Eri, "I don't have." And Shiki finally understands that Eri saw her as her equal and that who she is, is valued. Of course, a few positive reinforcements is not enough to do a 180 from most likely years of self-hatred, and so she asks Neku again if she's okay the way she is; and his reply shows yet more growth:

"Hey, Shibuya's got room for all types."

This is a STARK contrast to his dialogue when we first meet him- "All the world needs is me," "You have your values, and I have mine," etc. Neku valued his identity, but he took it to the extreme in that he ONLY valued his identity, values, and morals. After meeting Shiki though, his viewpoint changes a bit and at this point Neku now appreciates diversity- he's still not at the point that he feels he can understand other people, but he at least doesn't see conflict of morals as a bad thing anymore. And in turn, this gives Shiki the inner strength to want to go back to the RG and start afresh. He gives her one last push to go back when she hesitates since she was the only one granted a second chance, with the promise to see her again; and in just a week, Shiki goes from being the biggest pain in Neku's side to his biggest motivation for surviving the second game and one of his best friends.

Joshua

Another week, another partner.

What's interesting about Joshua is that he is also blue, just a lighter shade. While Shiki is Neku's opposite, Joshua is more akin to his shadow- a mirror, of sorts.

Light Blue: peace, serenity, ethereal, spiritual, infinity

Josh and Neku are extremely similar, but their personalities still converge at enough points that they're starkly different: their tempers especially are a separating point as Neku is much snappier than Joshua (especially if provoked), and despite Josh being represented by a lighter color, in a lot of ways, he symbolizes his partner's negative traits in even more extreme ways in a subversion to expectations; a "darker" version of him, in a sense.

When they first meet, these two also clash, but for entirely different reasons. Joshua's attitude, as well as his dodginess, pisses Neku off immensely. While his first week with Shiki is about relearning how to build trust, his second week is a test of said trust by giving him a partner very similar to his former self: distant, aloof, uncaring. It gets especially tricky when Neku scans Joshua and sees himself dead, and he begins to distance himself again; deciding that there is no way that he can trust him- and not only that, but that it'd be ridiculous to do so. Neku senses something is off: he doesn't know what it is, but it unsettles him enough that he is steadfast in his decision to keep Josh at arm's length.

...Until he and Josh visit Mr. Hanekoma, and upon learning that his teammate and Mr. H are acquainted, Neku decides that perhaps Joshua isn't as bad as he initially thought: but he's still pretty hesitant; and understandably so. Mr. H gives him some backstory of his partner, and his motives start to come to light - turns out, Joshua has been able to see the game while living, and that alienated him from other people since Hanekoma was the only one he could confide in. Just like with Neku, this doesn't justify his behavior, but it does make it understandable: Josh pushes away people by playfully antagonizing them and making himself difficult, and Neku pushes them away through hostility.

When he and Josh visit Udagawa, they connect on both not doing well in groups and Joshua comments that they're more alike than he thought, which leads into a conversation about people not being able to understand each other as long as they have their own worlds and Neku begins to backslide a little:

"Right? They're them, and I'm me. Talking to them gets me nothing."

He goes on to say he respects CAT and their philosophy about doing your own thing and how he needs to just enjoy his life and forget about others, and Josh agrees. While Shiki is Neku's friend, she is the exception, not the norm, and Neku still doesn't trust most people. However, when Josh expresses not needing other people's values, Neku's reply is interesting. He agrees outwardly, but it's hesitant, as if he's unsure of himself.

"Yeah..."

His inner thoughts show us that once again, he is changing.

But...I don't feel that way anymore. Since coming to the UG, reading people's minds- Shibuya's full of people with just as many viewpoints. Mr. H said the world ends with me. To expand my world, I have to learn to look farther- not write off other people's values as inferior.

….Maybe I had it backwards. Maybe I need to open up to really enjoy-

Josh calls him and snaps him out of his thoughts so we don't know what he was going to think next, but Neku has definitely experienced a massive paradigm shift in his way of thinking: he's inwardly questioning himself and acknowledging his wrongs and showing willingness to trust again and is showing a lot more empathy to other people. However, this resolve begins to crack when more holes in his memory get filled. Neku is angry and confused, but most of all, he's hurt and we see it in his reaction when Josh asks if he's okay; because he distances himself again. This situation causes him grow distant once more and he also gets more openly prickly since his trust is shaky. Josh relating to him that he feels he belongs in the UG doesn't help matters, either.

However, a later conversation has him moving forwards again. While acknowledging that people are not meant to see eye to eye, he thinks to himself that perhaps it is better that way. People don't think alike, but they can at least try to understand each other; and he then gets the resolve to actually counter Joshua's argument of solely reading people's thoughts and not talking to them.

"But why? Where's the enjoyment in that? I'd rather broaden my world my own way."

And again, we get a small paradigm shift of Neku feeling comfortable enough to express the positive changes that he has slowly been experiencing: blue symbolizes stability, and by this point in the story he is obtaining more and more of it: in his values, in his emotional expression, in how he deals with people, etc. He gets thrown for an immense loop learning that Joshua is alive though, and Neku finally snaps when his teammate brushes it off claiming they're "just like any other pair"-

He's utterly disgusted by Joshua treating the Game as an adrenaline rush- even when Neku first got into the Reaper's Game, he never enjoyed it, even if he initially was only looking out for himself at first; and the idea of getting excitement from toying with death is foreign to him. It only gets worse when Neku accuses Josh that HE killed him, and simply is taunted in return. From that point onward, he becomes openly hostile and snappy again, throwing the idea of trusting his teammate to the wind and tells him upfront that he's only going to tolerate him to survive; leaning back on his negative qualities (because growth is a process and there will be moments of wavering and backwards steps, and that's normal!)

Later on he also shows open distress when a Reaper is attacked and they are unable to save him; declaring they "left him to die." Even though it wasn't any fault of their own, Neku self-blames just like Shiki did in the first week- thinking that he could've done something, maybe if he had gotten there sooner, or defeated the Noise faster. While not 100%, Neku is comfortable enough to openly express sorrow, and Joshua underhandedly sympathizes and takes the blame off him ("We did what we had to do Neku.") He also protects Sota from Noise later down the line even though his partner is already erased and he's going to die anyway and again expresses sadness ("If only we'd gotten here earlier") and even indignation after the older man dies, screaming in anger about all the people who have been erased ("These are people, not toys!!"). When Josh questions him about the interest in others, he then explains that he's gotten to know folks better and that "it's different now".

"They're not just strangers. I can't shut them out like that."

This is really important because in this, Neku is essentially declaring he cannot go back to who he used to be; nor does he WANT to. He refuses to, and he is making a conscious effort to be open to other people even if he doesn't understand them. Neku goes on to assert that one needs to reach out to others as well in counter to Josh asserting that he won't ever be able to understand others and this time, Joshua responds positively. Through Neku's steadfastness and refusal to waver on his viewpoints once he truly feels solid in them, and his courage to express them and not back down; he influences Joshua into thinking that perhaps people truly do need each other and can understand each other, even if it isn't easy to do so. In showing sympathy towards his enemies, he also proves again and again that people can change too, for the better; and his wisdom begins to shine once more. (And it is this change that ultimately leads Joshua to decide to save Shibuya) Unfortunately, Neku is thrown for yet another loop upon getting more of his memory back and thinking that Sho killed him, and Josh sacrificing himself is absolutely world-rocking.

He blames himself again, angry at himself for not opening up; and it is with this mindset that he is thrown into the Reaper's Game for the final time. His trust is in shambles, and the third week is Neku's personal test to see if he is willing to reach out despite being recently wounded by his partner.

Speaking of, Joshua doesn't really have an arc compared to the rest of the cast: rather, he serves as the catalyst to their growth instead. His character is interesting because from beginning to end, he expresses essentially none of the positive attributes of the color he is represented by; he only appears to at first glance. While Josh does change his mind about destroying UG Shibuya and is convinced that people can change for the better, whether he himself changes for the better is up for debate. Orange is the second color associated with him (it's the shade of his cell phone and his stickers), but just like with light blue, he expresses none of its positive traits.

Orange: enthusiasm, happiness, creativity, determination, encouragement

Negative symbolism of orange includes insensitivity, pessimism, and being unsociable, all aspects of Joshua's character. He doesn't think that people can change; and that it is impossible to understand them (he even goes as far to express "I'd rather just get rid of them" in a dark contrast to Neku, who is content to merely ignore people). Josh doesn't like groups of people either, and he exhibits insensitivity many times throughout the second week, merely behaving charismatic in order to interact with others. He doesn't really grow outwardly, but that's not the point of his character; he's Neku's test to see if he's truly changed or not.

Joshua is Neku's shadow, he's in the same vein. Rather than night and day, they are as dusk and midnight.

Beat

Beat is interesting because his color was actually switched for Final Remix: in the original DS version Beat is green, and in the Switch version he is yellow. I'm going to dive into both because I feel they're equally important. I already covered green for Shiki, but green has yet another meaning which describes Beat to a tee- safety. While Shiki is the moral support and mediator, he is the protector: he's extremely sacrificing for his sister and the people he cares about to the point of putting himself in physical danger to keep them safe (such as jumping in front of a car to save Rhyme, or jumping in front of Neku to protect him from a brainwashed Shiki). That much stays constant throughout the game. Healing also applies to him, as he helps Neku to open up and feel safe being emotional again by not being ashamed of being emotional himself: Beat openly cries over Rhyme and Neku mourns with him, and they help each other heal by learning to rely on one another. Not just as partners, but as friends.

Yellow: joy, warmth, positivity, friendship

From the get go, Beat is a huge bundle of energy and he's extremely kind; although he gets rather volatile if he feels slighted. But like with Shiki, he's overall a very sweet person and openly emotional: he gets angry in a heartbeat, laughs heartily when he's happy, and cries freely when he's sad- and his tears are never portrayed in a negative manner either; they're just a normal reaction to a sad situation and this normalization of sorrow leads to Neku getting comfortable again in being vulnerable- one could argue he's the most emotional in Week 3. Yellow is the complementary color to purple, which is also the main shade of Neku's design. Rather than an opposite like Shiki, or a shadow like Joshua, Beat is Neku's foil. He's a lot kinder and he's got a big heart but he is also extremely impulsive and acts w/o thinking. In contrast, Neku thinks things through logically, but he's a little lacking emotionally; and so they balance each other out. He's also highly attune to when Neku starts withdrawing into himself and gently snaps him out of it constantly; showing once again his sensitivity to emotion. (He consistently asks Neku if he's okay when he gets lost in thought; which Neku does a lot, especially if he's upset. Beat keeps him grounded.)

Beat's arc is finding value in himself again + doing his best; not for other people, but for himself and finding his drive. When mourning Rhyme, he vents that "she thought I was worth dying for" and that she had much more to live for, and he doesn't understand why she'd sacrifice for him. (And he blames himself for her death, as well) While Beat is protective out of the kindness of his heart, it also comes from a lack of self-worth: he places other people above himself, to a fault. Neku sympathizes with his grief but then goes a step farther to encourage him to not be regretful. In another contrast to Shiki, rather than another's identity making him feel inferior to the point of emulating them and overshooting, Beat jumps to the other side of the ditch and loses his passion altogether.

Rhyme refused to give up on him, but eventually Beat began to resent her pity and he began to push her away as well. After they both died and came to the Game though, Rhyme's declaration that she had nothing to live for startled him into realizing that she meant a lot more to him than he thought and more than anything else; he wanted to be there for her as she was for him. After beating himself up, Neku comforts Beat in his own way, telling him that he needs to focus on the now and not let his sorrow overcome him, in essence; but also to go the distance just for himself, not for anyone else.

And Beat gets his fire all over again, eventually declaring that Neku isn't his partner anymore- he's a friend, and one that he cares about a lot.

Through his partners, Neku finds himself, they all strengthen different aspects of him. He learns to trust, to be open, to find value in friendship again and him taking off his headphones is the ultimate metaphor of him letting the world back in.

Shiki, his opposite.

Joshua, his shadow.

Beat, his foil.

They all shaped his world, and showed Neku just how wonderful it really is.

And that is beautiful.

#twewy #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #joshua kiryu #beat #daisukenojo bito #the world ends with you #meta #I have a lot of feelings for this game. It's a masterpiece.

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axther · 4 years

Note

Heyo, can I get a bnha matchup? I'm a bisexual ENTP, but am mistaken as an introvert often due to being bad at social interaction and liking alone time. I talk a lot with people I'm comfortable with though. Sometimes I joke in serious situations. I don't worry that much and am carefree, though I can get randomly anxious sometimes. I'm a bit bad with emotions, but I've been told I can cheer people up because I'm optimistic. I'm a deep thinker and have been told a lot I'm smart.

Fnkdaofdnskao i really took a hot second with this one tbh 🥴 but here u go!! Also, since there was no gender listed, i just went w they/them pronouns!! If u want smth different, then just hmu and i can change it!! Also, i am so sorry i made the second one as more of a scenario?? And it was...oof. yikes. Sorry. This has become my style. Scenarios disguised as matchups. Im a liar

AS OF 05/25/2020 IM A LIAR ITS OUT TONIGHTTTT

#1 is…Denki!

okokokokok SO

Y’all meet during a training exercise!

It’s something similar to USJ, except it’s across several different schools and classes

And y’all had to find a bunch of objects

So there’s a mixed bundle of people

It’s a sort of competition

And everyone is sweating bullets

And honestly??

You’re just vibin

And i mean this like, you don’t really seem concerned.

You’re just chilling while everyone’s fighting, trying to find the best solution.

Naturally, you’re worried, too

But you know that it’s kinda useless to try and talk over Monoma and Bakugou

Now

Denki’s staying pretty quiet, too.

While it looks like he’s just vibing, too, but honestly?

He’s crazy nervous

Because here are all these super talented heroes-to-be, he feels like he’s gonna be glossed over

So as everyone’s duking it out, the two of you are just kinda...hanging in there

Now the thing is

You guys are avoiding eye contact.

Not in the sense of ‘oh my god, you atrocity to man,’

But in the ‘two bros chilling in a hot tub’ way.

So as the entire thing is falling on its head

You look over and notice that he’s trying desperately to remain chill.

He’s kinda fiddling with himself

And you nudge him a bit

And as he turns to look at you, you may or may not be screaming ‘what the FUCK did I just do??????’ in your head

But when he faces you, you just give him a thumbs up

Like that

And he’s kinda at a loss

But he takes it, and gives you a smile and a big ol’ thumbs-up, too!!

There’s no interaction again, until he nudges you

“Do you think they’ll come up with something?”

You shrug.

“Considering that the only brain cell in my class went to the Class Rep, and it doesn’t look like these guys their class brain cell, I don’t think so.”

Denki pulls back a snort before wiping his smirk off his face.

“Do you think...we could try? On our own?”

“Maybe.” You shrug again. “You’re the shock quirk user, right?”

Denki is stunned

Did someone remember him?

Woah

From here on out consider him whipped

“Yeah! What’s your quirk?”

“Crystallian.”

You watch his face go through a journey of emotions before settling on muffled confusion.

“Warping, basic elemental magic.” You play with some of your hair. “It’s all tied to a crystal I keep at home. If it’s safe, I’m safe.”

Denki nods.

He hadn’t heard of quirks where they have a variety of unrelated uses

But he’s there for it!!

You two begin to make your own plan to succeed in the exercise

And once y’all look over and realise that the arguing isn’t going to change, thanks to Monoma egging Bakugou on

Y’all dip

And by that, I mean you warp him and yourself to the highest point in the building

Took one (1) look at the lights

Shared a glance

And y’all took out the power

Within about thirty minutes, y’all have all the goods!!

Most folks are still trying to get used to the lack of light

So when your group presents the stuff to the teachers, Aizawa is tired but takes it

And so you guys pass!!

You and Denki talk more after

And he finds out that you’re part of a special school for kids with special quirks

Which off the bat sounds really bad

But you meet folks that are like you

and you tell him that he’d probably fit right in.

He’s over the moon!!! For once!!

Someone that takes him seriously!!

Y’all exchange numbers and the entire class can’t begin to fathom that holy shit Denki Kaminari got a s/o before anyone else in the class

Throws them all for a loop

And meanwhile Denki’s thriving w hugs and cuddles

#2 is…Momo!

Momo is...complicated

She’s in a rich family with a strong quirk

She’s got more than enough pressure on her shoulders

Especially since she was in 1-A, so the entire literal country of Japan has their eyes on her

And all the while she’s doing her best to focus, focus, focus

She wanted one day where she could be like Mina, Ochako, Tooru, Jirou, Tsu…

Normal.

So she does it

One morning, while her parents are gone, and before anyone else is awake

She ties her hair up and places it into a gaudy blonde wig

(Which was a massive pain in the ass, but that was the price of freedom)

She dons sunglasses, an outfit that in any other case she would die being caught in

Leaves her phone on her bed

Tiptoes down the stairs

And leaves

The moment she’s past the gates of her house and out of view, she lets out an enormous sigh

She has no idea what she’s going to do

But her heart races a little, because that was the beauty of it!!

She finally had no rules, short of the law

So she waltzes down the road, the city wakes up, and as the first hour drips by, she notices a distinct wave of youth

They’re not doing much, just relaxing in cafes and alleys

and Momo wonders if anyone is planning to send truant police

but considering she’s doing the same exact thing, she’s not gonna call them out

But as she passes by an arcade, she notices a group

They’re a bit more subdued than most of the others, just watching one of their friends play a dancing game and fail horribly

But most notably, Momo sees you

You’re snorting at the lanky girl who’s tripping over her own feet, but at the same time, it looks like you’re cheering her on

Momo’s curious, of course, but she also doesn’t want to intrude

But then one of them, a boy, turns and waves her over

She jumps because oh my god and makes her way over

“Hey, did you want to play? Sorry that Tsukki was hogging the game.” The boy says, and you turn and glance at her.

At first, Momo’s wondering if she should really join in, but then she sees you, fully…

Ohnotheyrehot.jpg

Unfortunately, you seem a bit closed off because you start talking to the last member of the party

Momo brushes it off and nods quickly

because goddamnit that’s what she’s here for

being a normal teenager

So she starts playing Tsukki

And Momo wipes the floor with her

Tsukki takes it well, fortunately, but it sparks conversation

“Where’d you learn to play?” The boy, Seong-Jin, kept on asking

Momo wasn’t crazy comfortable telling the Korean transfer student that she had ballroom classes

But as she’s about to make an excuse

She sees Present Mic out of the corner of her eye

And immediately panics

But before she can tell the four that she needs to hide, you come in clutch

You notice her look of panic and take off your jacket

And you drape it over her and pull up the hoodie.

At that point, all you can see is the bottom half of her face

(seeing as she never took off her sunglasses)

And a tuft of blonde hair

Present Mic even pops by for a second to ask how the kids were doing, and he didn’t recognise Momo

So crisis averted

Almost immediately afterwards, the five bail from the arcade and ask Momo why she freaked out

But then you speak up

“She doesn’t have to tell us. But next time you might need to bail, feel free.”

You gave her a soft smile, and when I tell you Momo’s face lights up

You two stick together for the rest of the day

And Seong-Jin, Tsukki, and the last person, Keito, are here for it

Bit by bit, they start separating into groups

That is, the Momo/YN group and the Everyone Else group

Soon enough, the three disappear to do something while Tsukki is shouting

And you and momo decide to take a break by a cafe, on a wall with foliage hitting your back

and you guys are talking as the sun begins to set

You guys talk about everything and anything

And Momo confesses it was the most fun she had in years

The way you talk to her is almost methodical, with how you seemed to tip toe around any insinuations or trauma.

“I know I only met you today, but if you ever need a place to crash…”

You trail off, playing a bit with your hands, but more out of awkwardness than anxiety.

Momo’s heart swells.

She manages out a ‘thank you’ before hesitantly leaning on your shoulder

And you take a deeeepp breath in

But you don’t nudge her off

And slowly she begins to fall asleep, and her wig is tilted and her sunglasses are askew

but you glance at her out of the corner of your eyes and give a soft smile

(that was not the last time you two met, and five years later at the altar, she’s wearing the same damn wig)

#3 is...Kirishima!

PINING

This sounds really simple

But Kirishima would absolutely pine after you for 3.8 million years

Y’all went to the same middle school and you were friends

And he’s all over you

Sometime between the first and third year of middle school he just fell head over heels

And so he tags along with you the entire time

But after the Giant Figure incident, and he says he’s won’t go to U.A., you get lowkey pissed

You tell him that he’s worked so hard, he’s come so far, why give up now, he’s only fourteen for god’s sake.

But he doesn’t listen

And you two don’t talk after that

After he decides to go for it and not live a life of regrets, he’s doing his best to become someone he wants to be

But the biggest looming regret he had was the fallout with you

And it was a nasty fall out-parents stopped talking, kids took sides, teachers knew

You went to a completely different school than what he thought you were

And he was pretty sure that due to the fallout and the constant movement of time, you changed your number

So he knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as just saying ‘You were right, sorry.’

It starts consuming him

Half of U.A. knows that he’s thinking about something

But it comes to a head when he’s sparring against Bakugou

And all he’s really doing is blocking

And bakugou loses his shit

“Get your fucking head out of the clouds and focus!”

“Sorry, dude!”

“What the fuck has you acting so damn stupid?”

Kirishima tells Bakugou, who gets it, but doesn’t really try to help

“Just tell her.” He hisses

But Kirishima’s nervous

And by the end of the week, he’s gotten a flurry of suggestions

People are coming up to him left and right, telling him what to do

And he just gets overwhelmed

On Saturday, he locks himself in his room until Mina knocks

She comes in and they start talking about you

And she mentions that she has your number, and that it really would matter if Kirishima was the one to text first

“YN supported you, and then it got rubbed in the dirt, and then ignored again. You need to be the one to say it, honestly, otherwise it’ll mean nothing.”

So he gets to work

He spends the rest of saturday trying to write it all out his emotions

But eventually he gives on getting them all neat and tidy, and just lets them ooze out

Sunday morning he gets up early and types it all out, willing his hands not to shake too much

Mina and Bakugou are there with him, and though Mina keeps making jokes and Bakugou doesn’t offer much in way of help, they’re there to support him

So when he sends it and lets out a sigh, Bakugou pats him on the back

“And now, we wait.” Mina murmurs, watching the phone with wide eyes.

And watching

And three days pass before Kirishima gets any sort of response

He’s expecting to be chewed out, to get the text equivalent of a teary welcome back

Not fucking eight ball.

But he clicks on it

And he wins, surprisingly

There’s a moment between his win and your text where he doesn’t dare breathe, just stand still

Before you text back

So.

ur in ua huh

guess you did it after all.

Yeah.

Again, sorry. I didn’t think a lot of stuff through back then.

figures lmao

u free next week?

For you?

I always am.

#matchup #matchups #anon matchup #bnha x reader

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imagine-your-party-hosts · 4 years

Text

Salty Tea

Word Count: 2,146

Notes: This was my old piece for the @domesticbnhazine! I previously just had it in a google doc and wanted it to have a proper place on my blog.

Summary: It had been two years since the beloved and infamous class had graduated and began their long-awaited journey of pro-heroism when a wedding invite arrived in the mail, a small cat stamp in the corner. He was shocked - he had assumed it had been a messing up of addresses, though sure enough it was to his apartment, and when he opened the envelope and saw the names ‘Izuku Midoriya’ and ‘Ochaco Uraraka’ in their glittering gold he swayed on his feet and had to catch himself on the counter.

There was a lot to be said about Hero Class 1-A.

A majority of it could not be brought up, however, without the mention of Aizawa Shouta. After all, how could this group of students manage to tame the beast that had previously expelled all his students? What demon had they sold their soul too exactly to survive all their years at U.A.

Maybe the question should be asked of who exactly Aizawa had offered his soul to.

It was quite obvious - he’d laid it bare to the students of 1-A time and time again. He had sacrificed himself plenty of times for the good of his students and - as much as it pained him to admit it - he’d do it all over again if need be.

“You’re pretty soft on these kids!” Yamada had attempted to whisper in his ear sometime not long after these students had come to him - however, whispering had never been Yamada’s strong suit, and several heads suddenly popped up from the ten-paged essay they were supposed to be writing.

“I am not. Eleven pages,” Aizawa had said in response, knocking Yamada away from his desk and telling him to go bother Nemuri instead, and the heads suddenly sank back down to their papers.

“You’ve been pretty soft on these kids,” Yamada had said once in the teacher’s lounge. It was relaxed around the school - final exams had just ended, and graduation was nearing faster than Aizawa or his classroom had been prepared for.

“I have not,” Aizawa responded, stirring honey into the peppermint tea he was brewing that his class had bought him, the spoon knocking against the cat mug that his class had also gifted him. The kittens that stared up to him were all hand-painted little creatures, different for each of his student: a long-haired green Scottish fold, its tail too fluffy for its own good, constantly getting tripped on, curled around its little paws; a hissing abyssinian with bright red eyes that watched his every move of the spoon; a siamese with a scar trailing across his left eye, his ear a little mangled though a bright blue bow tied around his neck all the same. Aizawa’s vision blurred suddenly and briefly and he had to glance away so his tea wouldn’t be salty.

It had been two years since the beloved and infamous class had graduated and began their long-awaited journey of pro-heroism when a wedding invite arrived in the mail, a small cat stamp in the corner. He was shocked - he had assumed it had been a messing up of addresses, though sure enough it was to his apartment, and when he opened the envelope and saw the names ‘Izuku Midoriya’ and ‘Ochaco Uraraka’ in their glittering gold he swayed on his feet and had to catch himself on the counter.

They’re just kids, Aizawa thought to himself, ripping the invitation further from its hold, and he started with a revelation.

They’re adults.

A meow sounded from Aizawa’s ankles, and he hesitated, glancing down to the wide-eyed burmese that was watching him, making sure he wasn’t going to topple over. Aizawa could remember the day he got this cat - remember the day Kirishima had seen it outside in the rain from the school window and had promptly bounded from his seat regardless of Aizawa trying to stop him. “It’s raining, she can’t stay outside!” Kirishima had said when he’d came back in, his uniform sopping wet and dripping a puddle on the classroom floor. Aizawa’s lecture was immediately forgotten, as all the students suddenly hopped up to go look at the kitten curled up in Kirishima’s arms.

“She looks dopey,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes, stepping away from it, though the cat’s wide yellow eyes just followed his figure. She meowed, loud enough for the students to all let out a simultaneous squeal.

“We can’t leave her out in the cold!” Kirishima repeated, and that was how Aizawa had ended up with a wide-eyed cat in his bag on the way home that chewed on his pens.

Aizawa would give Bakugou that she did look dopey.

He glanced back to the invitation in his hands, which was heavy and cold and held a thousand of his thoughts, ranging from the first time he saw little Midoriya and little Uraraka, terrified in his class, to the day of their graduation, much taller and much wiser than Aizawa had ever expected their little babbling forms to be. There was a brief moment that he faltered in the gold hue of the letters on the paper, before he suddenly sighed much louder than needed and went to get a pen to put in his RSVP.

These kids would be the death of him, and he knew that, and he did not mind one bit.

And so, six months later, Aizawa found himself sat in the pews beside Yamada, in a pressed suit that he’d let Yamada pick the tie for. They were matching, both such a bright and obnoxious yellow that Aizawa was blinded every time he glanced down to straighten it, but he supposed it wasn’t the worst thing Yamada could have picked out. It could be decorated with brightly colored birds, or it could make noise, so Aizawa would just consider the canary colored tie a blessing for now.

Midoriya was already standing at the front, though Aizawa had thought that for once he shouldn’t have been so early. He was completely red, freckles hidden in the crimson, his scarred hands shaking just barely. Aizawa could see the Scottish fold, its too-long and too-fluffy tail getting caught in his paws and making him tumble down, when suddenly music started playing from and Yamada nudged Aizawa’s shoulder to glance behind him.

It started with Mina and Bakugou, and he was surprised that their arms were linked together without a large argument, regardless of Mina’s bright, teasing grin and nudging of Bakugou’s tensed shoulder. The hissing and snapping Abyssinian was for once silent, its red eyes only staring straight ahead, while the Sphynx beside him was only flicking her tail back and forth playfully.

Then there was Tsuyu and Kirishima, Kirishima grinning brightly and marching down the aisle, Tsuyu being dragged behind him. Neither had wanted to be painted as a cat on Aizawa’s mug - Tsuyu had wanted to be a frog, naturally, and while she’d settled on being a hopping Munchkin kitten Kirishima was not content until he was proud German Shepherd, chasing after Sero’s much too long tail. Next was Jiro and Kaminari, Kaminari a rigid Bengal that the Manx beside him had to roll her eyes at and calm down. Iida walked down the aisle with Hagakure as his side; Iida was a Siberian that sat tall and regal, and Hagakure had said she wanted to be a Persian with their smushed-in faces that she adored, only seen for the bright pink collar it wore with its jingling bell.

Lastly came Todoroki and Momo, both smiling comfortably, seemingly at something shared a moment before the doors open - perhaps about Bakugou’s for once uncomfortable stance. Aizawa thought of the Siamese, with its torn ear and bright blue bow that was too big for its little frame, and when he saw Momo with her long hair down he had a remembrance of the Russian blue on his mug, pristine and beautiful with its perfectly groomed coat. He almost forgot what he was truly here for, wondering if he’d just came to check up on his students, who, yes, thank you, thank you, were alive and well, when Yamada shoved him once more and his breath caught in his throat.

Uraraka suddenly stepped out into the aisle, her father by her side. Aizawa had not thought he’d ever seen her in a long dress, and he’d never truly expected it, though here she was, in a long white wedding gown that flared out at her hips. She was grinning, tears already in her eyes, and Aizawa could not remember when exactly he’d felt tears pricking at the back of his own eyes. Uraraka still had her red, round cheeks, and Aizawa was suddenly overcome with the idea that he didn’t want Yamada to see him cry here when he saw that Yamada was already bawling. Uraraka was a small little ragdoll on his mug, fur a little pink at its cheeks, sitting beside the Scottish fold and trying to help it walk a little further without tripping on its tail, and when Aizawa turned some in his seat he saw the little Scottish fold crying as well.

Aizawa did not bother to stop the tear that fell down his cheek for once.

Yamada suddenly clapped Aizawa much too forcefully on his shoulder, jostling several more tears down his cheeks that he did reach up to hurriedly brush away. “It’s amazing that they’ve come this far, y’know?” he said in-between choked sobs.

Aizawa paused for a moment, before he slowly nodded his head, turning to watch Uraraka once more as her father led her down the aisle.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, underneath his breath, “Amazing.”

Throughout the whole ceremony the two teachers continued their tears; Yamada, loud and choking, Aizawa silent and almost serene. Aizawa however had managed to calm his crying by the time of the reception, while Yamada was still a sniffling mess beside him.

“Stop crying. It’s going to make your soup salty,” Aizawa told him once they’d sat down at a table with several of the other teachers, Nemuri teasingly nudging his elbow.

“Maybe I like it that way,” Yamada responded wetly, nudging Nemuri back.

At one point throughout the ceremony Kirishima made his way over to the reminiscing teachers’ table, pulling up a chair beside Aizawa.

“How’s that kitten?” he asked, still with the bright, sharp-toothed grin that he’d had since the first day he’d stepped foot in class 1-A.

Bakugou was not far behind. “Still look as dopey?” he asked, still with the sharp and smart gleam to his eyes.

Had they really aged, or was this just another day in the classroom, just another day of pretend?

Uraraka came up behind Yamada in her beautiful long dress, glittery and sparkling and Aizawa knew this was in no way and every way the same class that had left his care all those years ago.

“Yeah, still dopey,” Aizawa responded, and Uraraka laughed, Yamada giving a start when he realized she was behind him, suddenly starting his sobbing full force again.

“Aizawa-sensei!” Midoriya began as he came up beside his wife, reaching to place a hand to her side as he neared. It was such a strange sight, Aizawa thought, that he wasn’t stammering, that his hands weren’t shaking.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” Aizawa started to say, waving that off, however Kirishima pounced, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.

“Really, Shoto-san-“

“Never mind,” Aizawa said in response, while Yamada laughed loudly beside him.

“Speaking of that. I guess your last name is Midoriya, hmm, Ochaco-chan?” he asked, still shamelessly with the tears trailing down his cheeks, turning in his chair to the newlyweds behind him.

“You’re right! It’ll be something to get used to,” she said, grinning as she glanced over to her husband, and Yamada dabbed at his eyes, sighing over-dramatically about young love.

“Aizawa-sensei!” came another voice, Hagakure bounding up to join the table. “We all need a picture together!”

“Is that necessary-“ Aizawa began to say, though there was a sudden uproar cheer for a photo, Yamada the loudest of them all.

“Okay, okay!” Aizawa agreed, effectively settling them all down as Kirishima gathered the rest of the wedding party, his students grinning so brightly at him that Aizawa was almost blinded.

“Come on!” he was tugged from his chair by Kaminari and Kirishima, while Nemuri giggled and Yamada offered to take the photo. Ochaco grinned as he joined them, wrapping an arm around him and Midoriya while on the other side of him Kirishima hooked an arm around his shoulders.

“Everyone! You too, Bakugou!” Kirishima hooted, and, though he rolled his eyes, he still joined in, until everyone had their arms wrapped around someone.

“Smile!” Yamada said, and, apparently not satisfied, he repeated it louder. “SMILE!”

Aizawa was suddenly overcome with a feeling he could not place, surrounded by his old students at an event he’d never fathomed taking place, in a bright yellow tie that did not fit him. He could not believe he’d watched these children grow from students to heroes, from best friends to husband and wife, from children to adults. He felt the same uncomfortable pricking behind his eyes that had been following him all day, and he could not stop the tears that unexpectedly came down his cheeks.

Yamada only grinned a bright grin himself and snapped the photo.

#bnha #my hero academia #domesticbnhazine #aizawa shouta #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #katsuki bakugou #zine #my writing #todoroki shouto #kirishima eijirou #yamada hizashi #kayama nemuri #Kaminari Denki

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writing-noah · 5 years

Text

Let's Go Back In Time

Time Capsules are an interesting thing to have as a kid.

They're these little boxes filled with objects that, years ago, meant the world to you.

For people unfamiliar with the time capsule, it may seem like a bunch of randomly selected objects thrown in a box that's called differently.

It couldn't be further from the real thing.

Kirishima never really thought about that old box until an hour ago. Hell, he even forgot about it completely. Had it not been for Gishian's call, that box would've ended up in the garbage and he wouldn't even care.

Eijirou didn't even think about the contents of that box until he was right in front of the arcade.

Was he really doing this? Getting an old box he hid with his ex-boyfriend that was filled with beautiful memories from when they were together? Memories of U.A. and his friends?

Memories of being a hero.

Because that ended up becoming a dream that Eijirou would never achieve. Becoming a hero. Saving people.

After he lost his quirk, everything fell apart.

"Eiji!"

A voice made him come back to reality, smiling at the sight of his old friend.

"Gishian!"

"You've changed so much, my boy! And you were finally able to be taller than me!" Kirishima laughed at that, tightly hugging the man.

Gish had known him his entire life. He was the owner of the arcade and also the one in charge of fixing the games if one broke down. Eijirou was six when they met.

That was twenty years ago.

"It was about time!"

Gishian nodded, an amused smile on his face. "It's really good to see you, my boy. It's a pity you don't visit anymore."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. You know I've been working a lot."

"Yes, I know. But you should also have some time for yourself. I remember how much fun you had trying out all the games when you were younger... but let's not talk about it. How's the family?"

They started walking towards the back of the arcade, being careful not to be run over by excited kids running around.

"Everyone is great! My mothers ended up moving to a smaller place because mom got tired of the stairs. Grandpa finally called his son and daughter and they've been talking things out. Nonna and Nonno are spending some time back in Italy before they continue their journey around the world. Cousin Hotaro has a company that's going amazingly, and I think he's gonna do some sort of partnership with Futaba about a new product... Things have been great, yeah."

"And what about you? Are you still looking for a path to follow?"

Eijirou shrugged. "It depends on what happens around me. Right now I'm employed and just... going. It's been tiring, but I'll be fine."

"And what about the guitar and the singing? You left that aside?"

"That's actually how I'm making some extra money. One of my friends has a bar and she lets me play at night as background. I don't have to be on stage so that's why I can do it."

"Taller than me but you still struggle with crowds." Gishian smiled.

"It's a work in progress! My main objective was getting taller than you. Now that that's out of the way, I can focus on not freezing on stage!"

Gishian laughed, softly shaking his head. "I see... And how are your friends? I've seen them on the news a bunch of times. Great heroes!"

"Yeah, everyone has their agencies or are working with one of the top heroes... They're amazing."

"And you are too, my boy. Fighting villains and doing all that risky stuff isn't the only way to be a hero. You can also be one." Gishian put a hand on Eijirou's shoulder, squeezing it softly. Then, he let go. "I'll get the box, give me a second."

The man disappeared behind a door labeled "Staff Only", and Kirishima waited outside as he thought about those last words.

Thanks, Gish.

《》

Eijirou kicked the door closed the moment he entered his house, the heavy box from the arcade between his hands. He left it on the table, a relieved sigh exiting his lips as he softly caressed his arms.

"What on Earth did we put in this that's so heavy? Jesus... And why did we hide it inside one of the games!? That must be one of the worst places ever!" The now black-haired boy sat on the couch, lazily stretching as he made himself comfortable. It was still early for dinner, so he simply stared at the ceiling for a couple minutes.

...

Should he open the box?

No. They made a promise to open it together years ago. He can't break that promise.

...

But in reality, another broken promise wouldn't change things. Eijirou had already broken most of the promises he made with Kaminari anyways.

How he promised they'd always be together, have an agency with Bakugou, Mina and Sero and be the best heroes of all times. How he promised to even marry him, even though both of them saw the whole marriage and celebration as something unnecessary and over the top...

Just how many lies was his younger self able to tell?

Kirishima finally sat up on the couch, positioning himself right in front of the box. He sighed, hands getting close to the little lock desperately trying to avoid the box from popping open.

With a soft pull, it broke. And all the memories came rushing back to Eijirou as soon as he started recognizing the objects inside the box.

The first two things were extremely noticeable. Two plushies, a Pikachu and a Shark. They won them on their first date, at the arcade. Kaminari was determined to get a plush from the claw machine. And he did. The amazing thing was that the shark was stuck on Pikachu's tail, so he got both of the plushies at once.

After taking those out, two newspaper clips came to view. Those were covered in clear tape as a protection so they wouldn't get ruined with moisture and time.

The first one's headline was covered with silly drawings and scribbles. Because that wasn't important. The date was.

September 14th. The day they hid the box nine years ago.

The second one read "HEROES DEBUT: RED RIOT AND CHARGEBOLT". This one was pretty straightforward.

Next, Eijirou found four tickets. Two of them were for the first musical play he ever saw, which Kaminari bought tickets to and invited him. The second pair was for a concert of Kaminari's favourite band. Those were bought by Eijirou, as a thank you for the musical.

A bunch of cassettes were there too, all from different artists. They promised to listen to them when they opened the box together. Also a DVD of Kami's favorite movie, "Back to the Future".

After digging through hundreds more memories, he finally reached the very bottom of the box. There were two awful drawings of each other, made at a picnic date because Denki had the sudden idea. Those didn't fail to make Kirishima laugh.

Right after taking out the drawings, two letters came to view. One had written "For Future Eijirou" on it. The other, "For Future Denki".

He took his letter, opening it before he could think about it and starting to read what his younger self hoped he achieved in a nearby future.

Eijirou could only read all the stuff he didn't accomplish.

"Hope you're still close to 1-A after graduation and hanging out as much as possible!"

He was a lonely loser drowning himself in work so he wouldn't think about how he lost all his friends. Oh, and he didn't graduate at U.A.

"Hope you are an amazing hero who saves people with a manly smile!"

He could barely remember how to genuinely smile after losing his quirk thanks to the Quirk-Destroying Drug. After that happened, he had nothing to do with U.A.

"Hope you're eating healthier just like mamma told you, taking care of yourself and also exercising constantly!"

Visiting gym once a week counts as a win? And the rest... well...

"Hope you still love Denki with all your heart!"

...

That didn't change at all.

Eijirou left the letter next to him, his eyes tingling as the tears started to build up in his eyes. He used the back of his hands to wipe the falling tears away, putting all the memories back in the box.

How could he give up so fast? He isolated himself from everyone, even from himself. He stopped talking to everyone, blocked absolutely all his friends and broke up with the man he loved the most.

All because his quirk was removed? He felt like an idiot.

Yeah, quirks are a big part of people, but that doesn't mean it's everything. He was still Eijirou Kirishima. He was still that cheerful guy who wanted to help people, no matter how. That guy who loved his friends and family, and most importantly, himself.

How did he forget all that so suddenly?

He got up from the couch, the determination building up in his chest. Right now, only one thing was on his mind.

"It's time to change that."

《》

Well, this wasn't planned at all.

After an impulsive decision and two hours in an airplane, he was right in front Kaminari's door at his apartment in Kyoto. He felt the doubt taking over after realizing he had no plan, no words and no idea how to explain this.

...shit, should he even knock? What if Denki was busy? Or wasn't even there? Should he really dig up the past?

And why in the world did he bring the box with everything!? That was an even worst idea!!

He should just turn back and pretend this never happened. Bothering Denki after all this years would just be—

"Eijirou?"

Well fuck.

He turned around, the man he was so scared to see again right in front of him.

"Denki..."

Kaminari barely changed from how he was at U.A. His hair was still a bright yellow with a lightning bolt across the bangs, a bit shorter at the back. A couple piercings decorated his face on the lower lip and right eyebrow, and Kirishima could see he was wearing some lip gloss too.

He was clearly not expecting anyone, judging from the Doritos and drinks he was carrying, and also because he was dressed with oversized clothes he only used to be at home playing videogames or watching movies.

He looked beautiful.

"What... are you doing here? Why are you here!? And HOW!?" Denki's eyes looked like they'd pop out of their sockets with how surprised he was.

"Well, I... um... Gishian had to take out some games from the arcade, and he found this inside Super Smash."

Kaminari was suddenly right in front of Eijirou, his fingers softly brushing across the edge of the box.

"Our time capsule... I totally forgot about it."

Eijirou chuckled. "Yeah, I did too. I opened it and looked through some stuff and I just... wanted to see you so bad, Denki. I never apologized for acting like such a dick, and for hurting you the way I did. Losing my quirk hit me hard but that didn't allow me to say such things to you. You were there to try and make me feel better and the only thing I did was push you away. And I'm so sorry for that." His sight turned blurry again, tears starting to spill without him being able to avoid it.

"Hey, hey..." The blond left his groceries aside, and he did the same with the box that was between Kirishima's hands. Then, he grabbed him by the cheeks, using his thumbs to get rid of the tears that were rolling down Eijirou's face. "It wasn't all your fault, Eijirou. It was wrong of me to try and distract you from something that big. I wanted to see you back smiling so bad I tried to forcefully make you forget that. You were allowed to be sad, but I didn't understand that. I'm sorry."

Eijirou put his hands over Kaminari's, closing his eyes. That simple touch made his stomach flip a hundred times.

"I missed you so much, Denki..."

"I missed you too, Eijirou." The blond let go of the guy's cheeks and hugged him tight, his face hidden on the crook of Kirishima's neck. The black-haired boy hugged him back just as tight.

They stood there, in the middle of the hallway, for around half an hour. Once the tears stopped, they felt like it was the right time to let go and take a step back.

"I'm glad I can see you again."

Kaminari nodded, grabbing his groceries once again. "I'm glad you came, Eiji... Wanna come inside? I don't have anything scheduled today. We can open the box, talk a bit, have dinner... You can stay over if you'd like!"

"Considering I came here impulsively and didn't even look for a hotel... I'd like that a lot, yeah."

"Great! Because I also need to know what happened to you, dude!? You look exhausted, and you haven't shaved or dyed your hair in what seems to be a looong time! Have you been taking care of yourself?" Kaminari easily unlocked the door and entered his apartment, leaving the door open for Kirishima. He followed, box between his arms just like when he arrived.

"I have, man! I go to the gym on Fridays and—"

"Only Fridays!? That's not good for you, Eijirou! How many hours do you sleep? And what have you been eating!?"

"Um..."

"Junk food, am I right!? For the love of All Might, I'm gonna kill you, dude! That's not automatically fixed with ONE DAY of exercise! You know this!"

"I'm not a hero, I don't need that kind of training!" He left the box on the table, his eyes following Denki as he walked towards the kitchen to get water and open what he bought.

"It wasn't being a hero what pushed you to exercise and be healthy! I remember how you looked every time you were at the gym or at Gamma. You always looked as if you were home. Smiling, enjoying yourself. Your quirk only made your skin hard. The strength that allowed you to even punch down buildings was yours, Ei."

"Well, I don't need to tear down buildings anymore. So we're good."

"That's your excuse for not doing what you love? "I don't need it anymore"? Seriously?"

"Kinda, yeah!"

"...I'm about to change the Doritos to apples and force you to eat healthy. I'm THIS CLOSE."

"Oh, c'mon! You're not mamma. Just bring the Doritos."

"Why should I?"

"Because Doritos and Back to the Future is better than fruit and a movie, man."

The room stayed silent for a couple seconds until Denki barked a laugh.

"Fine. ONLY for the movie!!"

"You got it, Bolt."

It was an amazing night with Kaminari, catching up after all these years without each other. They talked about the past and everything inside the box at first, and that was followed by graduation, work, family and a lot more.

They were finally done after three hours of talking, so it was time to start watching the movie. While Kaminari turned on the DVD and everything, Kirishima was getting some blankets and pillows. He threw everything on the couch and turned off the lights once the movie was ready to start.

Denki sat down next to him, pillows all around him. He covered himself in blankets just like Eijirou did, scooting closer to the boy so he could use him as a pillow.

Just like old times.

《————————》

And that's all, I think! Had this idea after reading the Kirishima Headcanons my friend @bunnyramen wrote! Go check them out!!

#bnha #writing #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kirikami #kamikiri #darknoahshere #Time Capsule

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jeonakookie · 4 years

Text

I Wish (8)

Pairing: JungkookxOC

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Zoya and Jungkook had lost touch years ago. When a situation brings them back into each other lives, they try to go back to how things were as best friends once again. But a lot can change in 8 years. People. Feelings.

Masterlist

The last two days of Zoya staying in Seoul consisted of awkward moments and visiting the boys one time before leaving. Jungkook had apologised the next day, and Zoya forgave him without saying much about it again. They acted comfortable and the day with everyone was fun, but everyone noticed a strange shift between Jungkook and Zoya since that night. The three that knew of the events never uttered a word.

After leaving Seoul, Zoya and her family spent the remainder of their time in Busan, staying over at Jungkook’s parents’ home.

“You and Imani can take this room. It was his old room. I don’t know if you remember” Jiyong opened the door to the bedroom that hit Zoya with a wave of nostalgia. Jungkook’s childhood room. “He stays here from time to time when he comes to visit.” The woman sighs with a sad smile, missing her son. She breaks out of her moment with a clap and says “Well. As you can see Imani left her stuff and ran off with Junghyun to goodness knows where. Jungkook might not be the favourite for long.” She jokes, to which Zoya smiles at. “I’ll leave you to get settled and I’ll call you down for dinner. Okay?”

“That’s great imo, thank you.” Zoya smiles gratefully.

“Oh, don’t mention it. I’m glad to see you after all these years. You’ve grown into a beautiful young lady.” She smiles fondly as she cups Zoya’s face and she leans into the woman’s touch. Along with her own mother, Jiyong was a constant mother figure in her life and it felt almost like she never left Busan in the moment.

Zoya gave a tight hug and mumbled “I’ve missed you imo, and samchun too.” She sighs in content as she also mentions Youngjin, Jungkook’s father. Jiyong chuckles lightly and rubs her back comfortingly as she hugs Zoya back. Soon after, she left Zoya in the room to settle, allowing her to take in the room. Apart from bedding and few furniture changes, the room looked almost the same as it did all those many years ago. Posters and figurines that Jungkook had left behind when he moved to Seoul. Her hand ran over his favourite SpongeBob alarm clock, as she smiled at the memories of his excited face when Sara had gotten it for him on his 10th birthday. Zoya’s curious gaze fell on a picture frame on the bed side table. She picked it up and it was homemade, decorated with colours, glitter and stickers. It held a picture of a family photo and Zoya smiled fondly as she remembered exactly when she gave him the gift.

____

“Happy Birthday Jungkook!” Zoya shouted as she rushed outside after seeing him in his garden in the morning. She pulled him into a hug, and he wiggled his way out of the small girls bone crushing hold. Despite his constant complaints of hugs and kisses being weird, Jiyong still showered him with kisses and Zoya still squeezed him into a hug. Jungkook’s gapped smile mirrored the little girl’s into front him. She handed him a wrapped present. “Here, I made this for you.” She said shyly as she watched him open it.

“Wow. I love it.” Jungkook said excitedly, making Zoya smile wildly. “This is a one-time thing. Okay?” He emphasises heavily before enveloping the girl in a hug.

____

Looking back in hindsight, Zoya realises that Jungkook might have exaggerated his excitement for a 7-year old’s decoration of a picture frame to please her. To Jungkook he treasured it as if it was the most valuable thing he owned. Zoya couldn’t believe he still had it after all those years. The happy memories left a bittersweet after thought, ‘You’re still clinging onto the past’. With a sigh, she placed it back on the table and sat on the bed to text Yoongi to let him know that thy made it to Busan.

Zoya’s fingers hovered over Jungkook’s name to text him. Jungkook hadn’t been ignoring her texts but he wasn’t exactly engaging in the conversations she was trying to create. She was left with ‘Oh cool’, ‘Haha’, ‘Okay’. Despite all the thoughts telling her not to text him, Zoya decided to not listen to them.

‘We made it to Busan safely 😊’ Zoya read her simple message before hitting send. Nothing wrong with notifying him of making it to Busan. Zoya waited in anticipation when she saw he was typing immediately.

‘Okay.’ Zoya stared at the word with a frown. “Ugh, why is he doing this to meee?” She groaned to herself.

The last few days go by far too quickly. Adam enjoyed Junghyun’s company, as did Imani with him spoiling her with whatever she wanted. Sara looked content and happy being able to see her friends after many years and Zoya loved the feeling of being home again. However, the experiences were only temporary, and everyone was saddened once the Thursday rolled around. As everyone packed their stuff the night before Jiyong exclaimed excitedly that the three of them would be joining Zoya’s family back to Seoul to see them off.

Zoya laughed at the enthusiasm and excitement that Sara shared with the women. It was cute; she hadn’t seen her mum this relaxed and happy in a long time. They all left after lunch and embarked on their car journey.

“You know it takes 47 muscles to frown but 14 to smile.” Junghyun nudges you.

“I’m not frowning, I’m smiling upside down.” Zoya flashes a sarcastic smile. “Why are you so happy? We’re squashed up at the back with all the luggage.” Zoya makes a point to fidget to get into a comfortable position without the suitcases digging into her.

“I’m happy whenever I’m beside you.” Junghyun ruffles Zoya’s scarf and chuckles as if what he said was funny.

Zoya scowls at the man as she slaps his hands away, “You’re actually annoying. I don’t remember you being this annoying.”

“Well you made it your mission to tell me I was annoying 500 times a day, but we all knew it was because you had a crush on me in middle school.” Junghyun let out a boisterous laugh at the hilarity of the memory.

“What? You had a crush on him?” Adam said in disbelief, mirroring Imani’s surprise.

“Oh, that was so cute. Do you remember Sara? When she’d get all shy around him.” Jiyong looked back from the front of the car. “She’d completely forget what she was doing whenever he was around.” She chuckles with Sara.

“She was doing homework with Jungkook once and Junghyun had come over to drop something off that you gave. Zoya walked by and she tripped over air and pretended to tie her shoe when she was barefoot.” Sara, Youngjin and Jiyong proceeded to laugh.

“Wow I knew you were embarrassing, but that’s just sad.” Adam commented as he and Imani laughed along with everyone.

“Can we stop laughing now please.” Zoya sunk in her seat with a set frown. “That was a time in my life where I had poor judgment and had no taste in guys.” Zoya pointedly looked at Junghyun before adding “Obviously.”

Junghyun glared at Zoya, “Well I wasn’t going to like a munchkin.”

“Well it took me sometime to notice you resembled a Frog!” Zoya argued back.

“A frog?! Well you look like a dwarf!”

“Ribbit ribbit. I’m sorry what was that?” Zoya mocked as her hand cupped her ear.

“You’re so…” Junghyun’s face was in a permanent scowl as he looked at the teasing girl.

“So good looking? I know.” She did her signature scarf flick.

“No! You’re annoying. You’re like a midget on steroids.”

“Take that back!” Zoya exclaimed.

“No.” Junghyun smirked seeing he hit a nerve.

“Take it back or i’ll…I’ll…” Zoya thought up a threat.

“Or you’ll what?” Junghyun smug face made Zoya remember a story Jungkook had told you.

“Do you remember Mina?” It was Zoya’s turn to smirk as Junghyun face fell. That question was enough to have him grovelling at her feet, begging her not to utter another word about the event.

“Yeah that’s what I thought” Zoya smiled to herself but kept her word and left everyone in the car guessing what happened with Mina. The event in question was about Junghyun peeing himself laughing in front of his first girlfriend, Mina, at the tender age of 13. Jungkook was there to witness the sudden wet patch form on his brothers’ trousers as a look of horror and disgust appeared on Mina’s face. It ended with Junghyun blackmailing Jungkook to keep quiet about what happened and Mina swiftly breaking up with him the next day. Junghyun forgot that no amount of blackmail would stop Jungkook from telling Zoya anything, thus leading to the perfect blackmail material.

“You two argued more than you and Adam would, goodness me.” Sara said in exasperation.

“More than him and Jungkook too. You two were always bickering. It was hard to get you to stop.” Jiyong added shaking her head along with Sara.

“Well he starts it.” Zoya argued like a 5-year-old.

“And I end it.” Junghyun butts in.

“Shut up, no one was talking to you.” Zoya snaps.

“Okay. That’s enough. I don’t want this drive to be 5 hours of you two bickering. It was cute when you were kids, it isn’t cute anymore.” Jiyong said sternly.

“Sorry imo.”

“Sorry mum.” They both mumbled an apology at the same time and the rest of the drive was full of chatter of different conversations.

“I’m going to kill that little brat for telling you about Mina.” Junghyun murmured to Zoya.

“Oh please” She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “he told me the day after it happen. I’ve not mentioned it for 11 years.” She shrugs as she adds, “Plus you know he told me almost everything.”

“Are you and Jungkook okay?” Junghyun suddenly asks.

“Er yeah. We’re okay, totally fine. Why?” Zoya asked, wondering if Jungkook had said something. But it didn’t make sense for him to say anything to his brother.

“I can tell when things are off. Right now, I can sense that somethings wrong.” Junghyun raised an eyebrow waiting for Zoya to tell him the truth.

“Junghyun, we’re fine. Trust me.” Zoya flashes him a smile. After eyeing her suspiciously, he lets it go, much to Zoya’s relief. It’s not that Zoya was afraid to tell Junghyun anything, but she was so sure that it was a trivial thing to be upset over that she didn’t want to bother anyone over it.

Zoya let out a small yawn, “I’m so tired, mind being my pillow for an hour?”

Junghyun simply pats his shoulder, so Zoya lays her head down and lets the chatter and steady movement of the car lull her to sleep.

Zoya’s peaceful slumber was broken by a light shake of her body and a distant murmur of her name. She groaned, hoping it would stop and let her be. The shaking grew and the voice became less muffled and clearer. The girl slowly opens her eyes and took in her surroundings. “What’s going on?” She mumbled, sleep heavy in her voice.

“We’re almost there.” Junghyun said. After the few seconds of confusion, she came to her senses and remembered where she was. As she rubbed her eyes of sleep, she saw Junghyun’s hand fly to his mouth to muffle a shocked laugh. Zoya’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” The only response she got was a shake of his head as his eyes teared with silent laughter.

At that moment, Adam turned to the back and as soon as his eyes landed on his sister, he froze muttering a “Woah. You messed up.”

Zoya’s eyes flickered to the smeared black ink on the back of her and her eyes widened in realisation. “No no no.” She muttered as she fished out a mirror from her side bag. As her eyes landed on her reflection of her eyeliner smeared around her eyes, she whimpered a small “No...”

Junghyun surprised by how upset Zoya seemed upset over her ruined eyeliner, tried to comfort her. “Hey, it’s okay. You can redo it now.”

“This took me 20 minutes to do when I was not in a moving vehicle. I can’t redo it Junghyun.” She cried in frustration as she wipes her eyes of her eye make up with a pout. “You don’t understand Junghyun. That was the best I’ve ever done my liner. What a waste.” She slumped in her seat as she sulked.

“Girls are emotional…damn.” He muttered under his breath, but Zoya heard it as if he shouted it in her ear.

“I am already annoyed, don’t make me get Imani to drop kick you.” She glared at him. Junghyun put his hand up in defeat, letting his witty reply die in his throat. He gives a quick glance at Imani who was asleep peacefully as drool left her open mouth.

After Zoya and her family have checked in, there was an hour left before their flight. Zoya was becoming antsy and everyone noticed. Sara and Jiyong gave each other knowing looks and Adam was blunt as he asked, “Are you waiting for Jungkook?”

Zoya’s constant tapping of her foot stopped as she realised her behaviour. She smiled sheepishly at everyone. She shrugged, “No, I’m just excited to go home.” He eyes widen as she realised how that could be taken. “Not that I didn’t enjoy coming here. This is like home as well, you guys are like family. I just miss England a little right now.” She rushed out, laughing nervously.

Youngjin’s deep chuckle, calmed her down as he bought her into a bone crushing hug and rubbed her head. Zoya scrunched up her face as she whined about the head rubbing. “Samchun, you’re messing up the scarf.” Her muffled voice came out.

“I’m sorry.” He chuckles as he pulls back from the hug, “You take good care of yourself. I want you to concentrate on your studies and do well okay? He smiled down at her, almost sad.

“Samchun, stop. I don’t want to cry in public.” Zoya pouted, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

Immediately, Jiyong pulled everyone into a hug and all was heard was her sniffling. “You all be good, and don’t cause trouble for you mother. Aunty will be coming next time to see you, Imani promised me to show me all the good spots.” She tried to lighten the mood and Imani giggled sheepishly as Zoya raised her eyebrows. Junghyun crouched to Imani’s level and said something to make her laughed and she jumped into his arms to hug him. When he moved on to Adam, Jiyong and Youngjin stepped in front of her to place something in her palm and then closed her hand over it. Zoya immediately realised and her eyes widened as she tried to give back the money. “Samchun. Imo, no. I can’t. I can’t take this. Please take it back.” She protested.

“Take it. I haven’t seen you in 8 years, it’s to make up for all the birthdays and new years that I didn’t get to see you.” She said and they both encased her in a tight, warm hug. Soon they moved towards Adam and Imani’s general direction to also force money upon them.

Junghyun awkwardly stand in front of Zoya. “So, guess I’m not going to see your ugly face for a while.”

“I’m going to miss you too idiot.” She says as she rolls her eyes. He pulled her into a hug and mumbled a bye. She shaked her head as she smiled at his awkwardness. He was still bad at goodbyes.

Zoya chanced a peak at her messages and saw that Yoongi had messaged back: ‘Sorry I couldn’t come say goodbye, I’m in Daegu right now for our weekend break. Have a safe journey home and I’ll speak to you later.’

Jungkook was yet to read her message: ‘Hey, we’re leaving today. I don’t know if you remembered. Thought we could say goodbye, before I left? 😊’ She chewed on her lip nervously and then suddenly a new message popped up from him. Her face fell and her heart dropped. ‘Sorry, I’m at practice with the boys.’

Zoya quickly locked her phone and, with their final goodbyes with each other, they made their way to their terminal. After boarding the plane, Zoya stuck her earphone in and closed her eyes, temporarily escaping from the world.

A/N Wow...what a prick. I have finally sorted a posting schedule. Every Thursday 12pm GMT. So next part will be out next Thursday.

Does anyone relate with the money giving scene? I remember grown ups giving me money as a child and you have to pretend not to want it (let’s be honest you wanted that £20). Is this just a South Asian thing?

Hope you guys enjoyed it, let me know if you’re enjoying it with a like or a comment. I’m always eager to know what you guys think :)

-A

Masterlist

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #jjkfanfic #jjk fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #Idol!Bts #idol!jungkook

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