#all the best leaves on this plant come from one stem and she’s growing another !!!! YIPPEE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moongurl95 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 7.1 – In the Shadow of Danger

“I’m afraid I’d have to put your order in my next batch, Sebastian dear.” He couldn’t help but look down in disappointment at Madam Green’s words, to which the elder witch took pity on the boy as she gave him a quick pat on his shoulder, “…But I may have a pot open by the next week. Let’s see to having your Shrivelfig planted then.”

At Sebastian’s growing smile, Madam Green couldn’t help but give out a sigh in remembrance, “It seems only yesterday that your mother would run to my humble shop in need of help with her own plants… Until she met your father that is, the young miss never seemed to have a single green thumb in her bones.”

Sharing a short laugh, Sebastian let a bittersweet smile grace his features at the thought of his mother desperately trying to pass her Herbology subject as a student, though nothing much seemed to have changed even until she became a Professor, it was always their father he saw tending to their garden. It wasn’t until his and Anne’s third year as students did Madam Green recognize them as the children of her notorious client.

“Speaking of which, how is your sister faring?” The Madam’s question caught him off guard, prompting him to answer when—

“Madam! Have you still got any of those Fluxweed Stems growing out back? It’s that time of year when the students need their focus back!”

“Honestly Timothy, if you had the right sense of mind to plant your own before the term began, you wouldn’t be running to me for the purple things!”

“Aye, they seem to bloom faster in this side of your plots, Madam.” The newcomer chuckled before he took notice of the boy in the shop with him, “Well I’ll be, if it ain’t the young Sallow back from Feldcroft already? Do tell what your grumpy, ‘ole uncle’s been up to these days.”

Sebastian felt himself tense, if he hadn’t heard from Solomon of Mr. Teasdale’s past as an Auror, he probably wouldn’t clam up now— though he garnered the older Sallow wasn’t too fond of the Magic Neep proprietor, still—

“Come off it, Timothy. Better get back to your post before you lose any more students in need of your greens.” A thump interrupted their supposed conversation as Madam Green laid out her stock of Fluxweed Stems on the counter.

“Speaking of students, I did have a curious one drop by earlier. Matilda Weasley sent an owl about her being a new fifth-year, in fact. Can’t say it’s safe to have someone new just roaming about the streets these days—”

“Did she happen to mention where she was headed?” That was the only time Sebastian chose to speak up as both the adults now turned their attention towards him.

“Garnered she still had to drop by Ollivanders’ judging from the list she had. Say, do you share classes with her?”

“Some.” He answered tersely, not wanting to be under Teasdale’s scrutiny any longer, “Madam, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Remember to be back in a month, dear, and you heard Mr. Teasdale, better watch yourself out there.” The elder witch all but chortled, not the least bit taking the other man’s words seriously. Though Sebastian was fast out the door just as the ex-Auror began to regal the Madam of whatever gossip was new about town.

Sebastian thought it best not to divulge too much to people who used to work with his uncle, lest the elder Sallow find another excuse to get him to cease his search for a cure for his sister. For all Mr. Teasdale knew, the Shrivelfig he’d pre-ordered from Madam Green was just part of his school projects as a student.

His weary sigh became lost to the jolly noise surrounding the town’s circle as he neared, combing a hand through his hair when he quickly noticed the absence of his charge’s presence. Surreptitiously glancing at the store behind him, he then thought it won’t hurt to make an actual purchase for his sister to commemorate his first day back in Hogwarts.

A pleasant collection of sweet scents surrounded him as he entered the colorful interior that made up Honeydukes, quickly making his way towards where the Fizzing Whizzbees would be displayed, a personal request from his dear sister, though he couldn’t help frowning at remembering why— “The floaty feeling helps distract me from the pain…”

Grasping at least a dozen of the colorfully wrapped sherbet balls, Sebastian was just about to turn around towards the register when— “Revelio.” He knew of only one person who would be whispering that particular spell out in random places, as there in the inner corners of the sweet shop, stood the object of his growing fascination.

“Mr. Redding, I’d like to purchase some of these Fizzing Whizzbees, please.” Sebastian called out to the older gentleman taking inventory of his shop’s stocks near some shelves where Beatrice stood, to which the proprietor wordlessly levitated the sweets he held into a paper bag, before Mr. Redding subsequently walked away towards the register.

“Sebastian! I officially have all of my supplies.” His focus now centered on Beatrice as she smiled enthusiastically at him, “Did you get what you needed for your sister?” She then asked.

“I did. So, I suppose the world is our oyster now. Let’s hear what you’ve been up to in your first trip to Honeydukes, fancying some of these Bonbons?”

“Doubt I’d relish the idea of chewing on one as they tend to explode, so I’ve read.” She waved her Field Guide in hand before she tucked it in the confines of her robe, giving Sebastian a glimpse of her new wand.

“Surely you’ve at least been tempted to sample some of Mr. Redding’s wares? They’re blatantly put on display for a reason, you know.” He crossed his arms as he smiled cheekily at the girl in front of him.

“I did help myself to a slice of that berry-filled cake on the counter, and while I adore seeing how the Doxy Floss is made, I’d say I’m partial to the Fizzing Whizzbees that makes one float.”

Before Sebastian’s smile could turn into a frown at the mention of a particular sweet he was slowly growing to dislike, his eyes thankfully landed on the display just behind Beatrice that made him slyly smirk, “I take it you haven’t had the chance to try those out, then?”

This made Beatrice’s gaze follow where he nodded at, though she only narrowed her eyes suspiciously back at him as she read the display showcasing Pepper Imps, “Oh come now, I promise it’s completely harmless. Give it a try.” He waggled his brows at her for added effect which elicited a soft giggle from her as she hesitantly reached for a wrapper.

He knowingly took a small step back as Beatrice unwrapped and ate the tiny black ‘sweet’ that was inside, which then resulted in her breathing out fire— truthfully, completely harmless— but Sebastian didn’t account for her coughing fit after though. “I don’t like spicy flavors that much, actually…” She wheezed past her words with a hand over her mouth, as Sebastian noticed her eyes now glistened with unshed tears.

Slowly panicking from his unintended way of pranking her, he was just about to treat Beatrice to a bottle of Pumpkin Fizz, when an entertaining display caught his sight, “Here, let’s try this instead.”

“Sebastian…” She said his name almost in warning.

“I promise, this will make you feel better! Just this once, please…” Ominis once told him how he was absolutely terrible at apologizing, but Sebastian thought he at least made good effort at making up with his actions, and Beatrice was someone he’d somehow want to leave a good impression on, despite not fully comprehending the reason as to why yet…

“Just this once, alright…” She sighed as she suspiciously glanced at the Elephant on a Bicycle that she read on the display, an assortment of what looked like simple animal crackers laid out in a bowl made for free sampling. Though she’d come to wager nothing was ever just simple in the Wizarding community.

“Alright, let’s both take a random biscuit— no peeking— and just eat it. Ladies first, I insist.” Sebastian couldn’t help thinking that Beatrice looked absolutely done with him for the day, just popping the whole cracker into her mouth with a crunch, her eyes widened then as she let out an eagle’s screech, with her arms flapping at her sides before she shook herself out of the temporary enchantment.

He watched as her look of shocked wonder slowly had her pursing her lips, looking ready to scold him when he immediately popped his chosen cracker in his mouth and hoped to Merlin it was one that would make her laugh instead. Though Sebastian wasn’t sure if he’d gotten his desired effect when his ensuing primate noises resulted in awkward silence between them after.

That was until a corner of Beatrice’s mouth quirked before she let out a dainty laugh altogether, her reddened cheeks from consuming the Pepper Imp turning a rosy hue along her outburst, making Sebastian grin as he too joined in her laughter.

Suffice to say, Mr. Redding also quietly found a great deal of entertainment on watching his young customers partake of the free samples he had to offer, it also proved to be a great sales strategy as he now rang up a tin of the enchanted animal crackers the young miss now decided to purchase.

“I’d dare say, you’d definitely make a ton of noise with that lot.” Sebastian nodded towards Beatrice’s held purchase, pulling the door open for her as they exited Honeydukes.

“Hmm… I can think of more than one of my Housemates who’d find these treats entertaining, I suppose.” She smiled to herself as she tucked the item deep inside the enchantment of her robes.

“Aside from your roommates, I’m guessing it’s some of your Housemates you share classes with, like Clopton and Larson?” Sebastian attempted at probing, wanting to observe Beatrice’s reaction at the mention of the blond Ravenclaw, more specifically…

“You’re correct in assuming that Everett would enjoy these, he’s quite the prankster from what I’ve so far witnessed. Though Andrew strikes me as somewhat… cryptic. If I’m to be honest.”

Sebastian found himself relaxing at Beatrice’s offhanded opinion of her particular Housemate, though all thoughts of that were subsequently pushed in the back of mind as he felt something was amiss when the town circle suddenly turned quiet to the sounds of heavy thumping approaching.

He and Beatrice turned around just in time to witness an actual Troll barging its way in the middle of the circle, almost crushing a couple of witches under its club, had they not avoided it by a hair's breadth and proceeded to vehemently strike back with their wands. This only resulted in disorienting the big oaf as it seemed to be looking for something… or someone, as Sebastian alarmingly noticed how the Troll then seemed to zero in on where they stood. Not planning to wait around for it to come any closer, he too casted back at it just as it raised its club in retaliation when—

“Bombarda!”

Sebastian was glad for Officer Singer’s timely arrival as she quickly gave instructions to draw the Troll away from the buildings and village entirely, all the while casting offensively at it to serve as a beacon of distraction before she and a couple of volunteers led the Troll towards them as they all ran off.

Only their ragged breathing could be heard as Sebastian just noticed how Beatrice tensely held her supposed new wand in a grip, before he could ask her about its ivory-like appearance though, another set of ominous thumps could be heard behind them as a second Troll burst past a house! Sebastian noticed with growing dread that this one didn’t waste another second as it charged—

“Beatrice! Look out!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧

Andrew’s cryptic words of warning rang through her head as Beatrice did in fact dodge out of the barreling Troll’s way, taking a moment to get her bearings as she sized up the oaf they were up against, though it kept mindlessly charging back at her.

“Confringo!”

There it was again! That same damage spell she’d heard Professor Fig use back in Gringotts and now she was starting to notice how Sebastian proficiently used it as well— she had to learn that spell too, sooner or later. For now, she frustratingly settled on basic casting, “Are we weakening it at all???”

“Keep at it! We’ll wear him down eventually.” Beatrice noted the smugness in Sebastian’s tone as he said that, and while she won’t question his confidence in his defensive abilities, she still worried about the glowing armor that encased the Troll’s being. Someone was most definitely out to get her, but could it be Ranrok alone?

Sebastian was too caught up altering between basic casts and Confringo that he failed to notice how the Troll was getting too close to comfort in his range of attacks when— “Sebastian! Move!” Thankfully, he’d stepped back in time to avoid the full brunt of the swing, but the club’s tip still managed to snatch at his robe’s lapel, quickly dragging him off before he landed with a harsh grunt on the cobbled stones.

He’d just about gathered his bearings when he realized too late that he won’t be able to roll away from the Troll’s raised club about to pulverize him into one bloody mess when Beatrice placed herself in front of him, a perfectly timed Protego making the full force of the swing slide off as she skidded away from the brunt of it, effectively catching the Troll’s focus on her now.

She ducked past a statue just as the Troll charged at her and swung, the tip unfortunately catching the hood of her robe as she lost balance, hands stinging from where it broke her fall on the cobbled stones, she gripped her wand in frustration at the lack of offensive spells she’d yet to learn. If it was the so-called Ancient Magic they were after from her, then she could at least use it to defend herself and her friends!

“Hey! Pea brain!”

In a bout of growing rage, she summoned at a stack of barrels the only way she knew how, but instead of the non-verbal Accio she was still trying to master, the barrel came to her with a force that made her subsequently throw it in the direction of the Troll’s hideous face!

“What was that?!” Sebastian had already been back on his feet, ready to draw the Troll away from Beatrice, when he saw her Summoning move.

“A taste of its own medicine!”

“Nicely done! Keep at it!”

Beatrice felt exhilarated as she summoned a huge stone piece this time to hurl back at the Troll, all the while marveling at the many ways she could hone the Ancient Magic. This made their fight with the lumbering lout easier to handle as whenever the Troll would get too close towards Sebastian’s direction, Beatrice would launch at it with another piece of debris. Though whenever she did, a different sort of energy starting building within her.

“It’s faltering!” She’d exclaimed, now slightly breathless from their ordeal.

“A few more hits should do the job!”

They’d already managed to corner the Troll when Beatrice suddenly felt a surge towards her hands as her wand started glowing with the whispers of Ancient Magic. Quickly concentrating on the full force of it along with the pent-up anger, frustration and shock she’d had to quietly deal with since yesterday’s events, that by the time she expelled her next cast, it left her utterly speechless to watch as the Troll immediately disintegrated into nothing but ash.

“Goodness! A second troll? Did you two take on a fully-grown Troll— by yourselves?”

Beatrice only realized she’d been staring almost in a catatonic state where the Troll supposedly was just a few moments ago, had someone not gently touched her shoulder, “I suppose so. It’s… all a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

“Merlin’s beard. Are you all right?” It was only then did she focus on the female Officer in front of her after she also took notice that it was Sebastian who had a hold on her as if she might faint at any moment.

“We are.” Beatrice quietly answered, though she looked towards Sebastian to truly check if he was unharmed himself, to which the boy only smiled back at her as he continued answering for them, “And we were glad to help.”

“I’d say ‘help’ is a bit of an understatement. Nerve like that? The makings of an Auror, if you ask me.” The Officer proudly told them, but Beatrice almost felt Sebastian’s hold on her tense as she surreptitiously glanced at the slowly growing frown on his face. “If you are unharmed, perhaps the two of you wouldn’t mind helping me put a few things back to where they were.”

“Of course, Officer.” She quickly acquiesced, now wanting to speak to Sebastian alone.

“Singer. Officer Singer. And thank you. Again.” It was only when Officer Singer had apparated away did she hear Sebastian sigh, careful to let go of her arm as he quickly got started with casting Reparo on the nearest house that was left in a wreck.

“Sebastian, wait.” She got to work assisting him with the repairs— part of her wanting to eagerly test out the new spell Professor Ronen had taught her earlier— but mostly, she also wanted to ask the boy how exactly her casting Ancient Magic looked like to him, “You aren’t going to ask how I did it— that?”

“Between the two of us, I’d thought you would personally know. You do still remember disintegrating that Troll, right?” Sebastian asked incredulously as he focused on repairing a statue next.

“I do remember that. It’s how I did it that I don’t quite know…”

“Sounds like a conundrum we’re both left without answers then.” He replied jokingly as they made quick work of the town circle’s repairs, only after they were done did Beatrice manage to get a good look at him again, “Oh my goodness, Sebastian!”

“What?” It was only then did he feel something warm trickle down the right side of his temple.

“You’re bleeding! It could be a serious head injury!” She said almost in a panic as she neared him with her wand drawn.

“Doubtful of that. I’ve been told to have quite the hard head.” His chuckle was short lived as Beatrice came close, her hand gently cradling his face.

“We still can’t risk it, don’t move. Episkey.” Sebastian couldn’t help wince at the quick stitch he’d felt, only opening his eyes fully after Beatrice followed casting Tergeo to wipe off the blood on his face. “There, I’ve managed to seal back all the exclusive knowledge you still have yet to share with me at this point.” She smiled cheekily up at him, to which he didn’t miss a beat in asking, “Do I at least now look presentable to you, my fair lady?”

Now if only Sebastian hadn’t asked that particular question out of the blue, would she catch herself studying the charming array of freckles that adorned his face, nor would she be close enough to realize that his warm, brown eyes actually had flecks of gold in them, and with the adrenalin from their fight slowly draining away from her body, she’d also finally notice how close she was to the boy in front of her—

“Hello there! A moment if you would?”

The sudden greeting towards them made Beatrice instantly remove her hand from where it was touching Sebastian’s face, stepping back as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t as she said in a rush, “We should go and see what he wants.”

Following after the older gentleman that led the way inside a store called Gladrags Wizardwear, Beatrice failed to notice the silly grin she left on her companion’s face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧

Sebastian couldn’t completely wipe off the smile on his face as he glanced at Beatrice’s reflection from the mirror he stood in front of, fitting the new school robe Mr. Hill generously awarded them for their show of ‘remarkable bravery’ against the Troll attack earlier.

Though truthfully, they both won’t have survived the ordeal had it not been from what Beatrice surprisingly demonstrated, the same hair-raising sensation he’d felt during their stroll on the way here suddenly became present moments before she had disintegrated the Troll. He believed she was being truthful about not fully grasping whatever Magic she possessed, though he was sure she still had several secrets she was understandably hesitant to divulge.

Choosing now to save Beatrice from Mr. Hill’s endless tirade of his wares and fashion in general, he took a moment to fully appreciate the close study they’d had of each other just moments before. It was suffice to say that he garnered enough to amuse Ominis the next time he asked after their new classmate, but she was definitely more than a pretty face for him now that they’ve shared such a dangerous experience together.

“I’d say we’ve earned a Butterbeer or two, wouldn’t you? Might help me forget that I was almost pulverized by a Troll.” He knowingly smiled at Beatrice as he asked.

“I’d say that I agree with you.” Her smile was almost shy as a pink dusting graced her cheeks.

“Perfect! The Three Broomsticks is just this way.” Sebastian led the way out as Mr. Hill still managed to market the ‘battle-worthy’ items he had for sale should they be inclined to peruse his shop in the future, though Sebastian had now found amusement with how Beatrice was back to her antics of casting Revelio just before following him out.

Taking note of how the town circle still remained somewhat quiet, Sebastian couldn’t help but exclaim as they rounded the corner, “Assuming it isn’t utter bedlam in there, you might even meet Sirona, the owner. She’s a good one to know.”

He just about turned to focus on Beatrice when she bumped right into him, noticing how tense she was as he followed where her eyes were currently trained on, spotting the tip of a top hat making its way down a discreet set of wooden stairs off the side of the main road.

Not liking where this was going, he’d only met Beatrice’s gaze again before she silently dragged him towards a corner near the top of the stairs as they tried to listen in on what looked like a secret meeting with who he dreaded to be Rookwood and a blasted goblin. Consequently, he tried not to think about how he and Beatrice were closely pressed together against a wall.

“—if you cannot get to the child, then you have no value to me.” The goblin’s gravelly voice subconsciously sent chills down his spine as Sebastian inadvertently caught sight of its red eyes—

“Let’s go.” He then felt Beatrice quickly pull him away from the scene as they urgently rushed down the main road, “Did they see us?” He asked in a hush that made Beatrice glance behind them, sighing in relief as she let go of him, “I don’t think so.”

And while Sebastian preferred she stay close to him until they reach a safer destination, he couldn’t help voicing out the one question that seemed to bother him, “What was that goblin doing with Victor Rookwood?”

“Ranrok is working with Rookwood?” He heard Beatrice ask in disbelief before he took note of the other name she had muttered, “The goblin from the Daily Prophet? I knew I’d seen him somewhere!”

Their shared epiphany about the situation was short lived however as Sebastian spotted Rookwood with his crony emerge from the stairs, evidently looking for someone, “Quickly. Let’s get inside the Three Broomsticks.” And this time, he was the one to pull Beatrice close as they rushed to safety.

next chapter ⤜⤏

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hl mc #hl oc #beatrice hayes #hogwarts legacy characters #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian x mc x ominis #ominis x oc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #writing in progress

4 notes · View notes

speculist-rinthi · 2 years

Note

(@havoc-warband) CALY TIME. Gimme 💰, 🎨 and ⚖️ >:)

thank you Rev for your questions about the Best Girl, beloved of my heart,

💰 If your OC had all the money they could ask for what would they do with it? Where would they go and what would they buy? Are they the only one who benefits from this wealth?

She buys food for every hungry person she sees, fancy clothes for herself + everyone else who wants them, puts it into charities and restoration funding post-war and for housing people/relocating refugees – basically she skips along the road showering money behind herself. Also she takes pretty much anyone she knows out on a wild night where she buys 10 rounds for the house, etc etc.

That would literally be her first instinct, and she would spend pretty much all of it forgetting to save any for her actual own needs. Which actually isn’t that different from how she spends money on a regular basis. Fiscal responsibility and Caly are not friends.

Though given she’s famous and widely well-regarded, as well as just very likeable in general… if she’s short on actual coin she can scrape by on charisma in a pinch, so she does fine.

🎨 Is your OC artistic? Can they draw or paint or do they prefer another medium? Are they a writer or musician or do they do something else? Give us a quick run down of what they can get creative with!

Has a great singing voice that she could probably make a career out of if she wasn’t, you know, saving the world. I wonder if maybe sylvari have group singing sessions or something… sapling Caly in a choir is a great mental image actually. Love that for her. She gets good at sketching too, though I think that comes later in relation to her maintenance and upgrading of her own armour + weaponry.

⚖️ What is the biggest crime your OC has committed? Are they a theif, a cheat, a liar? What is the smallest, most petty crime they’ve committed? Or do they not do crime at all?

In her early days outside the Grove, Calydowan has definitely accidentally stolen like. The fruit from those boxes in market stalls where it’s all just out there, because she thought they were free samples or something. Present-day, she still sometimes, if she needs something, will just “borrow” it if she sees it just lying around. If it’s not consumable she brings it back (if she remembers). If it’s something like, say, wheat from a farmer’s field, she’ll think “oh they can just grow more” and might, if they’re lucky, leave something equivalent in exchange (or money). She’s well-meaning but still essentially parses the world as something that exists for her benefit, which I feel stems (hehe) from growing up in basically a forest that loves you with all your plant family, and persists because she gets fast-tracked to a high position where she is widely perceived as a heroic figure.

Larger crimes – I could see her breaking someone out of prison if she thinks their imprisonment is unjust, or even if she sees it as being for the greater good. I think she associates prisons with the Nightmare Court and later Mordremoth, so she doesn’t really. Understand them. She also wouldn’t quite understand how much trouble she would be in – her primary experience of any punishment is little more than occasional slaps on the wrist and she would expect everyone else to understand her reasons and agree with her, so if she got caught breaking any really big laws, she would be very surprised by the consequences.

#calydowan #20 OC questions

2 notes · View notes

vxridis-quo · 3 months

Text

Princess Beryl 💎

General Bio

Full Name: Beryl Lee Meralda

Nicknames/Aliases: Princess Beryl of The Crystal Isles (Full title), Princess Beryl

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Orientation: Bisexual Biromantic

Age: 24

Birthday: May 19th (Taurus)

Species: Human

Family: King Peridot Meralda (Father) and Queen Morgan Meralda (Mother, deceased)

Occupation: Monarch (Princess of The Crystal Isles)

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Auburn

Face Claim: Rally Vincent from Gunsmith Cats

Voice Claim: Dani Chambers (Timerra from Fire Emblem)

Appearance

Background

Born to Queen Morgan and King Peridot, Princess Beryl is the, well, princess of the Crystal Isles, a kingdom situated on an archipelago where gems are as common as leaves on trees, as well as the home of the Bixbites.

The kingdom, and the family, experienced years of prosperity and peace…until the unfortunate passing of the queen, her mother. This loss affected the princess and the king…but especially the king. He was wracked with grief, the touch of the grim reaper left a hole in his heart.

One day, the king had an idea; What if he could create a paradise for him and his daughter? A world that could bow to their whim, a world that would allow them and their people to move on from the pain of losing Morgan and grow beyond the prosperity they had.

To do this would take drastic measures, starting with using The Onyx; a gem once buried away due to it's dark powers and corrupting influence. While it was able to make the dream come true, it wasn't long until it consumed his mind, filling it with the greediest and cruelest of ambitions.

One by one, Peridot went from kingdom to kingdom, using the Onyx to turn the denizens to stone when they failed to comply with his demands. Each kingdom another part of this "paradise". If he had his way, the Crystal Isles would be THE kingdom, the only kingdom.

While Beryl was hesitant to stop him out of fear, she eventually mustered up the courage to nip the plan right in the bud. She was able to do this with the help of Princess Peach, who she saved during Peridot's invasion of the Mushroom Kingdom.

The final scuffle ended with Peridot turning into stone himself. Peridot’s current state is in a secret room in the treasury. A stark reminder of what could happen if Beryl gets too ambitious, too greedy...

Personality

Beryl holds an air of politeness, compassion, generosity, and kindness. As any ruler should be, Beryl cares greatly for her people and those she's fond of, and will do whatever it takes to make sure they are safe and happy.

Beryl does tend to be quite the anxious sort, usually about how others view her and the wellbeing of her friends, her people, and her kingdom. Resulting in hesitation at best, and panic at worst.

However, make no mistake, when the going gets tough, Beryl will bring out her stern and assertive side.

Abilities

Beryl's abilities, outside of standard Mario powerups, all stem from her bracelet. The bracelet is able to harness the power of the Crystal Isles' most powerful gemstones, ones imbued with the elements. There are seven gemstones in her possession, each of them with a unique ability.

Emerald

Imbued with the essence of Emerald Valley's plant life. The Emerald allows its user to heal over time so long as the gem is activated and has enough Luster (power, once it runs out it has to go on cooldown. Sorta like the vibe meter from Super Princess Peach but slowly regenerating over time). It also has the power to reverse Peridot's Onyx magic, allowing Peach and Beryl to rescue Bixbites who's failed attempt to stop Peridot led them to turn to stone.

Topaz

Imbued with the essence of Topaz Trail's crisp autumn breeze. The Topaz allows its user to float slowly to the ground from a fall (Think like Alice's floating ability in Alice Madness Returns). It can be used over time so long as the gem is activated and has enough Luster.

Amethyst

Imbued with the essence of Amethyst's Grotto's paranormal energy. The Amethyst allows the user to "possess" (i.e control) enemies (think like Ghost Kirby from Squeak Squad). It can be used over time so long as the gem is activated and has enough Luster. It has no direct effect on bosses or those with "strong wills".

Pearl

Imbued with the essence of Garnet Lagoon's refreshing waves. The Pearl allows its user to create and manipulate water with their hands, which lets Peach and Beryl use said water as projectiles or use in puzzles. It consumes a bit of Luster each time it's used.

Sapphire

Imbued with the essence of Sapphire Snowpeak's frosty icicles. The Sapphire allow its user to create a shield to block enemy attacks or obstacles like falling icicles. It can be used over time so long as the gem is activated and has enough Luster. It is also ineffective when faced with fire attacks or obstacles.

Spinel

Imbued with the essence of Spinel Skyway's puffy clouds. The Spinel allows its user to gain an extra jump. It consumes a bit of Luster each time it's used.

Ruby

Imbued with the essence of Mount Rubyburn's searing fire. The Ruby allows its user to dash at high speeds with the force of a burning flame. It consumes a bit of Luster each time it's used.

Verses

None, yet

0 notes

shanastoryteller · 2 years

Note

Happy Birthday! 🌻🌻 Please give me more of your hades stuff! Zagreus deserves it

a continuation of 1

The first time Eliana stumbles upon the garden, she takes nothing.

She’s not stupid. She knows that this garden isn’t mortal, that only a god could sprout fruits and plants that are at once so familiar and so strange. She lingers longer than she should, soaking up the warmth that seems to exist nowhere else around them, but she takes nothing.

But things grow more desperate at home. It’s a struggle to even dig edible roots out of the ground. More and more people die of hunger, of cold, of desperation, and when her sister cries through the night because her hunger pangs won’t let her sleep, Eliana decides she’s had enough. She returns to the god’s garden, determined, because she doesn’t mind dying of desperation but she won’t live that way.

She plucks the first silver apple from the tree with a trembling hand and then, when nothing happens, another.

Her backet grows full and she’s so close to escape, but not close enough. She feels him before she hears him, and her knees have already grown weak by the time he call her a thief.

The god’s power is rippling off of him, and no gods are of the mortal realm, but he seems even less, somehow, this strange overwhelming presence that she’s never felt at any temple. She’s ready for him to kill her or curse her, for trespassing on his domain and stealing from him.

He lets her go.

He lets her keep the food.

He works a blessing into the stolen apples.

“Thank you,” she says, awed, certain that she’s dreaming, that no deity could be this gracious. “Please, how can I – who should I address my offerings to?”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m – well, my name is Zagreus, but it’s best not to say that one out loud. Prince is fine.”

“Prince,” she echoes, ignoring the how awkward it feels on her tongue. It’s not her place to correct gods, so she says nothing.

The apples save them.

The nourish them more than they should, they put fat back on their bones when really that’s impossible, but it’s true. There’s color in her parents’ faces again.

She tells them of the god on the mountain and they burn stems in his honor and she thinks his name even if she doesn’t say it.

Their neighbors notice, because of course they do, and her father says they received a blessing at a local temple. It’s almost true, and they all hunch with guilt, but it seems a poor repayment to the god that had saved them to send more people to take from his garden. Besides, it seems dangerous. Just because a god is benevolent once does not guarantee benevolence a second time.

Eliana saved all the seeds from the silver apples. They shine like burnished copper in her hand. Nothing natural can grow in this never ending winter, but perhaps something unnatural can?

She tries to grow the seeds in a pot inside, watering it and giving it the best soil she can find, but nothing grows. Her family is disappointed, but they say they shouldn’t get greedy. Their hunger has returned, but the fat and muscle the apples granted them stubbornly sticks around, doing it’s best to sustain them when they have nothing else to do the same.

Knocking the pot over was an accident.

She bends to clean it and cuts her hand on the shattered clay. Blood wells in her hand falls on the scattered soil before she forms a fist to stop it.

The seed sprouts.

She stares, then opens her hand, allowing her blood to drip onto it.

The little plant absorbs her blood and grows a little taller, roots crawling out of the pile of soil. It stops at only about a foot tall, her blood sliding off of the leaves rather than disappearing into them, but it’s alive. It’s grown.

Her mother comes in to see what the crash had been and gasps when she sees the shimmering copper plant on the floor.

“Blood,” she says, holding up her cut hand. “It grows with blood.”

The go out to their barren fields and dig into them, placing copper seeds as if they were growing an orchard and covering them dirt.

They experiment.

Animal blood does nothing. There’s a limit to how much good the human blood does, since after a few handfuls it doesn’t seem to any good at all.

Their neighbors help. They understand that if they can makes these trees grow, none of them will be hungry anymore. An uncle dies and the offer his blood, gathered while he was still alive and they all understood losing a little blood wouldn’t matter when he wouldn’t make it through the night.

They pour the blood on the seed and it and the soil instantly turn to ash.

The message is clear and they don’t make the same mistake twice.

Only living blood will do.

The apple trees blossom but they do not bear fruit. They try everything, and the trees look healthy, they grow taller and thicker, but the blooms never ripen to fruit.

They’re close. They’re so close.

She gives offerings of her own blood to the Prince and even though she swears there’s a faint golden shimmer around the bowl, nothing happens. They need to do something more.

Eliana understands it’s a risk. That maybe Prince Zagreus will be furious at their impudence, for trying to grow his fruit or for bothering him or something else.

She returns to the mountain. He’s not there. She leaves and comes back every day before she finds him.

He’s sitting at the edge of the pond, fishing. She ignores her surprise and drops to her knees. “My lord Prince, begging your pardon, please.”

She braces herself, but she hears him shift and then he says, “Oh, you’re back. Do you need more apples?”

Eliana is glad that her face is tipped towards the ground so he can’t see her expression. “I seek your advice, my lord Prince, if you be willing.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. What’s going on?” he asks, then says, “I can hear you better if you look at me.”

She forces herself to raise her head. The weight of a god’s attention is nearly crushing and she’s not sure what to do with it. She’s just a farmer’s daughter. She was never meant to face a god.

Eliana explains what they’ve done in a slow, halting voice, braces for the moment his anger rushes forward, but it never comes.

Instead he hums and says, “Interesting that you can grow it too,” and stands, shoving the fishing pole into her hands, “Here, hold this for me.”

She sits frozen, worried a god’s instrument will kill her with a touch, but it feels like any other fishing pole she’s ever held.

“Here,” he takes the pole from her and places a tray into her hands instead. This close, his divinity feels like a sunburn, the heat too much to just be coming from the flames licking at his heels. One the tray are a half dozen flowers in the shape of saffron but the color is shifting red to yellow instead of the traditional purple. “Plant these along the base of the trees. Soak the roots in blood first if you don’t want them to fight the trees. Then the fruit should come.”

“Thank you,” she says, trying to think of what offering could possibly make up for all he’s given them.

He ducks to look her in eyes, and she some instinct inside of her explains what she shouldn’t possibly be able to know. His green eye is life and the his red eye is death and his irises are born of Chaos, and she barely understands what it means but she knows it’s true.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says cheerfully. “It’s in my best interest to keep my priestess alive. Your devotion doesn’t do me much good once your dead, after all.”

Eliana startles, says, “I’m not,” before hesitating.

She looked Prince Zagreus in the eyes and it didn’t kill her. It should have. Maybe she is exactly what he says she is.

“The dead are beyond my grasp,” he says. “Only life can serve me.”

That doesn’t – it almost makes sense, but it doesn’t, why should it matter –

Eliana looks at him, really looks at him, sees the skulls at his shoulder and around his waist, the fiery laurels in his hair, and something clicks into place.

No wonder he only wants to be known as Prince.

“I’ll do my best to serve you, Prince,” she says, and she means it, even if she has no idea how one goes about serving a god. He’s saved her life, her family’s lives, her friends’. Her service is the least she can offer him.

He smiles at her, burning and whole and terrifying even in his friendliness.

Even knowing the truth, it still feels wrong to call him Prince.

Princes are a mortal concept.

All the gods are kings.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #tainted-truth #hades game #how long before demeter notices someone interfering with her little temper tantrum lol

1K notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

Note

Hello, I absolutely love your writing and would like to make a request.

Kanae x F!Reader in which the reader can turn into a demon much like Genya and has a crush on Kanae whom she is close with.

Reader is very insecure about her demon form so she keep it a secret. However, Kanae comes across reader in her demon form but she doesn't notice Kanae until after slaying a demon so Kanae saw all of reader's demon ability. Reader breaks down and tries to run and cover her face but Kanae reassures her about her demon form and accidentally confessions her love for the reader.

Thank you and take your time.

Taste of Blood

Kanae Kochou x She/ Her Reader

A/N: Thanks! This might be my favorite Kanae fic I’ve done. I think it turned out pretty good. Hope you like it! Word Count: 1,670

(Y/n) discreetly watched Kanae from the engawa after she had endured the brunt of her final recovery training session. Kanae was walking through the garden, monitoring the conditions of the blooms, occasionally tying a bit of colorful string around the stems of certain flowers.

Was it bad to think ending up in need of urgent care was one of the best things to ever happen to her since she had joined the corps? Probably, but becoming acquainted with Kanae was truly one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She was so kind and wonderful. A bright, cheerful presence that (Y/n)’s swears could heal any wound alone.

They spent a lot of time together, (Y/n) almost couldn’t bear to leave, but she knew she couldn’t exactly stay in the mansion forever. Three months was more than enough time already. She feared she would overstay her welcome. Not to mention that the feelings she had for Kanae had been steadily growing along with the flowers in the garden. Any longer and her crush would bloom into something completely unmanageable that couldn’t be hidden.

After watching Kanae tie another string with care, (Y/n)’s heart skipped a beat when the Flower Hashira’s warm gaze locked onto her from the garden. Before (Y/n) could think to apologize for staring, Kanae smiled more noticeably and crooked a finger, beckoning her over. Bewitched as she was, (Y/n) could not help but comply. She hopped off of the engawa and joined Kanae amongst the flowers.

“Afternoon, (Y/n). You look radiant today.” Kanae complimented.

“Thanks,” (Y/n) swallowed, “you too, you always do anyway.” She added, blood buzzing through her veins with renewed vigor.

“How sweet of you to say.” Kanae’s smile grew brighter, if ever a thing was possible, and she turned her attention back to her flowers.

“What’s the string for? If I may ask.” (Y/n) asked, hoping to converse with Kanae as long as she could before Shinobu finished bottling the last of her medicine and Aoi retrieved her uniform and sword from wherever they had been stored away.

“I’m marking my favorite flowers so when it comes time to harvest the seeds, I’ll know which ones I had liked best. Then I can save the seeds for the next planting season. Here,” Kanae snipped a few pieces of string from the spool and held them out to (Y/n), “pick a few with me.”

“Are you sure?” (Y/n) swore she felt sparks run up her arm when Kanae’s skin brushed hers as she deposited the string in her hand.

“Mhmm,” Kanae hummed and continued on down the line.

(Y/n) followed, looking over the flowers for the very best ones. It was difficult though, all of the flowers were gorgeous. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what Kanae’s criteria were for what made a flower worthy to be bestowed with string. When she asked Kanae, she giggled and shook her head.

“Pick what you like, (Y/n). I want to be able to look upon the the next season’s blooms and find a bit of you within.”

(Y/n)’s face warmed considerably and looking at Kanae became too much. She turned back to the flowers and considered her choices in hopes to distract herself from the fluttering of her heart.

She tied her strings to the flowers she liked the best and continued conversing with Kanae until Aoi came out with the prescription Shinobu had put together and the rest of (Y/n)’s belongings, signaling that her time at the Butterfly Estate was coming to a close.

“Oh dear, time to leave already?” Kanae pouted. She seemed genuinely deflate a bit as (Y/n) accepted the items and thanked Aoi before the younger girl hurried back inside. Shinobu had promised to show her how to make aspirin if she was quick.

“I can’t stay forever.” (Y/n) joked, bowing slightly to Kanae. “Thank you for everything.”

When she straightened, Kanae enveloped her in a snug hug.

“Safe travels. Don’t be afraid to stop by at anytime. You don’t need to be hurt to visit you know.”

“Okay, if I ever find myself around here I will come say hi.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Kanae squeezed her a little tighter before letting her go completely, then (Y/n) went on her way. She found it hard to leave, but it was even harder knowing that the promise she had made, she had no intentions to keep. She couldn’t get any closer to Kanae than she already was. If she knew what (Y/n) had to do to be on the same level as the demons she fought, she would no doubt be disgusted with her. She couldn’t risk her finding out about that side of herself, so the less time they spent together, the better. It would protect her from the heartbreak that would surely follow.

However, (Y/n)’s attempts to hide her strange ability and distance herself from Kanae fell apart only a few short weeks after they had parted.

***

The demon roared and wrenched his arm free from (Y/n)’s teeth, but not without sacrificing some of his flesh.

“What was that about?” He cackled, his muscle and skin repairing quickly. “Can’t behead me properly so you think you’ll try eating me before I can eat you? Is that what this is?”

(Y/n) ignored him, quickly chewing and swallowing the sinew. The reaction was nearly instantaneous. Her teeth and nails grew sharper, her veins pulsed and strained against her skin and the white of her eyes blackened. Effectively, she had become a demon herself and with the added strength and speed, she hoped to finish the demon quickly and move on.

“Whoa, freaky.” The demon marveled. “How are you doing that?”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re finished!” (Y/n) growled, sprinting forward.

She had been so focused on the demon, that she had failed to notice she had an audience.

Kanae had been out completing a mission of her own when she heard fighting in the distance. She felt a particularly powerful vibration shake the earth below her feet and decided that she should investigate and see if someone was in need of assistance.

She had seen everything.

She watched in stunned amazement as (Y/n) used her enhanced power to beat the demon into submission and behead him with such intense speed that the head went flying in Kanae’s direction, rolling right before her feet.

(Y/n) turned to observe the head’s trajectory, gritting her teeth and forcefully breathed through her nose while the demon flesh’s properties worked through her system.

When her altered eyes met Kanae’s, they both startled.

(Y/n) quickly covered her face and turned away. She didn’t want to watch Kanae’s surprise give way to disgust or fear, she had to get away.

“(Y/n)!” Kanae followed after her, determined not to let her get away. If she did, she feared she would not see (Y/n) again.

The bit of flesh (Y/n) had gnawed off was already nearly depleted and Kanae being a Hashira, had the speed she needed to catch up quickly and grasp (Y/n)’s wrist.

“Please, let me go. Don’t look at me like this.” (Y/n) tried to pull free from Kanae’s grasp while simultaneously attempting to hide her face with her free arm.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Kanae frowned. “I’m a little concerned because I’ve never seen anything like that before, but you seem like you’re becoming human again… so you must be alright.”

“I’m a monster! No matter what I look like, all you need to know is that if I consume demon flesh, I gain some of their abilities. I’m gross and creepy!”

“You are not!” Kanae voiced her opinion on the matter strongly, forcing (Y/n) to turn to face her. “I think it’s a fascinating ability.” She pulled (Y/n)’s arm away from her face and swiftly took her face in her hands before she could register that she had let go of her wrist.

“Please don’t look at me like this.” (Y/n) sniffled, still trying to hide herself but Kanae kept batting her hands away.

“Human or demon form, I love you all the same. You’re still you.” Kanae declared.

(Y/n) and Kanae seemed to process her words at the same time and both looked away from each other, hot in the face.

“Oops,” Kanae managed to chuckle nervously, “I hadn’t planned on telling you that just yet, but I feel like you need to hear it. I really mean it too.”

“…You’re sure? Even when I’m standing here, looking like this?”

“Yes. I’m not sure which look is more attractive if I’m being honest.”

“Kanae!” (Y/n) sputtered, struggling to escape the Hashira for a totally new reason now.

“Stop struggling,” Kanae giggled, “I promise not to take a bite out of you as long as you promise not to take a bite out of me.” She teased.

“Don’t put your face any closer to me, I’m covered in blood!” (Y/n) weakly protested.

“Only your mouth and chin, I could give you a little kiss right… here.” Kanae aimed high on (Y/n)’s cheekbone and pressed a sweet kiss there. “There, see? Still kissable… oh dear, did you not want that? I should have asked first. I’m sorry.”

“No,” (Y/n) wiped the tears that fell from her eyes, “no, it’s okay. I didn’t think you felt that way about me, and I certainly didn’t think you would like me if you knew about this.” She added, gesturing to herself.

“Well I do.” Kanae looked to the horizon and saw the beginnings of dawn. “The sun won’t hurt you like this, will it? Should we find cover?”

“No, I’ll be fine. The effects will just wear off faster.”

“Alright, good.” Kanae sighed in relief and slid her hands away from (Y/n)’s face, one caught (Y/n)’s hand and begin tugging her eastward towards the rising sun.

“Then we can head home without any worries.”

(Y/n) gave Kanae a bewildered look as her demonic feature began to fade and Kanae reminded,

“You promised you would come by if you were in the area remember?” She smiled brightly.

#demon slayer oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny oneshots #kny x reader #kanae kocho x reader #kanae kochou x reader #kanae x reader #kanae kochou #kanae kocho #requests #anonymous

208 notes · View notes

pastxlscorp · 3 years

Text

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)

284 notes · View notes

jj-5656 · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare

With; Stiles Stilinski

IMPORTANT A/N:I’m officially down bad folks. But I wanted to say there’s a song I need you to play during a specific part of this story. It really only lasts a minute, and you’ll know when to play it. ALSO do not skip over this fic just because the song is by 1D I promise it’s fitting and not fangirl cringe. But this is tumblr an app practically made for that...@ me. Anyways I appreciate all the recent love on my work, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Teen drinking

———————————————————————

“Y/n”

“Mmm.”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Of course Isaac, shit-eating smirk and all would be stirring the pot. Knowing damn well you’ve made eyes at Stiles for as long as he’d known you. You stare him down with a knowing smile, taking a slow sip of your drink before answering.

“Yeah”

Stiles raises his brows in surprise at your nonchalant response. If you did have a crush, wouldn’t you have told him? All he did was rant about Lydia to you. Though, he hadn’t talked about her in a while. Seeing as his feelings for her had seemingly fizzled away earlier this year. It was odd, one day he was madly in love with the girl and the next he wasn’t. Either way, he’s surprised at the twinge of anger he feels at your words. Jealousy

The realization scares him, what was he jealous for?

“Interesting y/n/n, who’s grabbed your attention?” Isaac presses, the two of you not breaking contact as you take another challenging gulp of your drinks. A couple of the pack members exchange worried glances. The two of you always have a habit of teasingly pushing each other’s buttons, but issac seems to be pressing a little too much. As if he knows something the others don’t.

The twinging heat in Stile’s stomach ignited, burining much brighter than before as his eyes dart between the two of you. What the hell was this? When had you and Isaac become so close? Close enough to confess each other’s crushes. He grips the solo cup in hand harder, having ignored the bubbling beverage until now.

“You’re only allowed one question Isaac. And you just used it.” You counter matter of factly, leaning back into your chair simultaneously with the blonde. The others watch your interaction intently, all having noticed the tension grow.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Stiles announces suddenly, weaving between the various patio chairs as the attention turns to him.

“Aren’t you driving?” Scott interjects worriedly, not letting the change in his friends demeanor go unnoticed. Stiles pauses, turning on his heel and facing the group of you with a mischievous, somewhat forced smile .

“We can sleep here. Right Lydia? Your mom said you had the cabin for the weekend?”

“Uh, yeah. I only had a few of the guest rooms prepared. But there’s definitely enough room for everyone.” She replies, tone hesitant due to the shift energy.

“Everyone down to stay the night?” Stiles inquires, practically challenging the group to say no.

“Fun!” Lydia interjects before any of you can protest “I’ll set up the rest of the rooms. It’ll be like one big sleepover! Allison, help me grab some pillows and blankets from the basement?” She pulls the raven-haired teen along before she can answer. Shooting you a ‘what the hell just happened’ look before tugging Allison past Stiles and into the house. Leaving you, Scott, Isaac, and Stiles to deal with the lingering tension.

“Back in a sec.” stiles raises his cup in a sort of salute before making his way through the sliding glass door and towards the kitchen.

“Is someone gonna tell me what I’m missing here?” Scott inquires confusedly, looking just as astonished as the girls at how odd the three of you were acting. Scott was your other best friend, and of course knew you’d been crushing on Stiles for ages. But nothing had stemmed from it until now.

“Looks like everyone knows y/n’s crushing except the one she’s crushing on.” Issac offers with a smirk. Laughing when you get out of your seat to playfully shove his head to the side.

“You’re such an ass. I’m going to check on him.” You head towards the kitchen with what little pride you have left, shooting up your middle finger behind your back when you hear the two boys having a laughing fit at something Scott mumbles.

Usually, you’re the one drinking when the lot of you hang out. Lydia and Allison sip on something most times, but of course Isaac and Scott can only do it for taste. Even then, Isaac only takes shots with you to see who won’t make a face at the bitter beverage (bastard always wins). That’s why it’s such a surprise when you walk in the kitchen to see Stiles adding a significant amount of liquor to a fresh cup of soda, eyes boring into the liquid as if it’s just insulted him. Your eyes subtly trace over the way he clenches his jaw, pushing away the butterflies you feel when you observe his veiny hands gripping the cup. Jesus you need to touch some grass

“Easy there. Trying to out-drink me Stilinski?” You push your cup towards him gingerly, putting up your hand to signal him when to stop pouring.

“Something like that.” Stiles mumbles with a tight lipped smile, taking a gulp from the cup and making an insanely dramatic grimace. Shivering and shaking his head violently at the shock of the taste.

“You’re usually not one to drink.” You let it come out as more of a question than a statement, laughing amusedly at his spurratic reactions.

“Yeah, well...” Is all he replies, shrugging before taking another sip. This time only blinking hard to withstand the flavor. Your head cocks to the side in curiosity, holding your tongue before trying to ask what’s up with him. His eyes narrow at your actions, the fiery feeling before burning once more as he takes in your cute expression. Damn you, it’s like you’re trying to get him riled up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but whatever feelings the brunettes been harboring are starting to bubble over. He figures he’s always had eyes for you, but it wasn’t exactly a convenient time to come to the realization he’d fallen for you. It’d been a long time coming admittedly, but it’s not like he could act on it. Well, maybe he could. He shakes away the lustful thoughts when you lean against the counter beside him. Wearing one of your more revealing tops tonight. He swears you’re doing this shit on purpose.

“Ready to go back out?” You suggest with raised brows, hoping the liquor will brighten his mood. He nods, following you back through the living room and towards the back patio. Surveying the newly placed pillows and blankets beside the couch as he steps out towards the fire pit.

“You’re back, finally! Stiles, it’s your turn to ask someone.” Lydia claps her hands to get your attention. You and Stiles sitting next to each other on one of the couches amongst the undoubtably expensive outdoor furniture.

“Alright. Isaac, truth or dare?” Stiles challenges the blonde from across the fire pit. Isaac smirks, adjusting himself on the couch opposite you.

“You guys know me, I’m mostly an open book. But with they way you’re staring me down, I’ll go with truth and skip out on whatever dare you’re fantasizing about in that big brain of yours.”

Stiles scoffs with a forced smile, just slightly moving closer to you when he sees you and Isaac make what contact.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“Can we do repeat questions?”

“Don’t bullshit me Lahey, answer me.” Stiles isn’t necessarily rude, but doesn’t show any signs of breaking his serious expression when Isaac raises his brows with an amused laugh. He looks over at you, before letting his eyes fall on Allison. You don’t let their intense eye contact go unnoticed, despite it only being for a split second.

“Yeah, I do.” He mutters simply, sitting back in his seat with an uncaring smile. You can tell he is in fact shitting himself internally, being one of the few people able to see through his cocky facade.

Without a juicy enough answer, Lydia begins to give a dare. “Alright Scott, truth or-”

“Can I go again?” Issac interjects, your stomach dropping when you can practically see the gears turning in that mischievous mind of his.

“Well, it’s Scott’s turn to be asked.”

“No worries, the question is for him.”

“Well, alright.” Lydia looks between you and Allison with another ‘what the hell’ expression. Neither of you can think of an answer.

“Okay Scott. Truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare. I guess.” The tanned boy replies, not as amused when the attention turns to him.

“Kiss y/n.” Stiles chokes on his drink before the rest can even react, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel sheepishly when the rest of you have your eyes on him. Scott gets up from his chair reluctantly, moving towards the couch where you’re sitting and offering you a hand up. You take it with a nervous chuckle, smile brightening when the taller boy grabs the sides of you head a plants a quick peck to your forehead. Each of you giving a respectful bow and courtesy as the group claps.

“What was that?” Isaac teases, amused expression adorning his features at the cute interaction.

“You weren’t specific about it, you just said to kiss her.” Scott explains with a prideful smile, happy to have found a loophole in his dare. He’s always been like a big brother to you, even though you never let him forget you’re a month older.

“I thought it was sweet.” Allison muses, having found the interaction between her ex boyfriend and you simply cute. Of course her and Lydia never fail to point out the way you longingly stare at your sarcastic best friend just about every minute of every day.

“Thank you, thank you. We try our best.” You give another curtsy before sitting back down, tucking your legs under yourself and letting the tops of your knees lean against Stiles’ thigh. His tense shoulders seem to ease at the contact, despite wanting to shoot out across the fire pit and pumble Isaac.

“Okay Allison, truth or dare?” Lydia turns her attention to the brunnette beside her, eager to continue the game.

“Dare.”

“Chug your drink.”

Allison groans, pursing her lips in a small pout and raising her drink to you in suggestion. Seeing as you often participate in chugging contests at Lydia’s infamous parties, you’re not one to step down from the offer.

“Fine, I’ll be your moral support. Stiles, you wanna join?” You’re happy he’s finally trying to let loose, and you’re honestly eager to see a drunk Stiles. He leans over you to see how much liquid is in your cup and Allison’s, nodding when he observes that they all have just about the same amount.

“Why not, don’t expect to win though.” You scoff at his cocky remark, scrambling up from your sitting position and moving over to the speaker playing some pop song quietly.

“I need some motivation, not that this’ll be much of a challenge.” You counter playfully, confidence brightening when your three friends that aren’t participating start placing bills down to bet. With the increase of volume, you can feel the base of the music vibrate beneath your feet as you sit back down beside Stiles.

“Ready? 3, 2 ,1 go!” You’re a bit surprised at Scott’s enthusiasm, but figure he’s just as eager as the others to win his money. Immediately, you Stiles and Allison start gulping down the bitter liquid. You open your eyes for a split second, observing how far your opponents have gotten. Stiles shoots his arm out towards you, playfully trying to knock the cup out of your hand whilst chugging. You do the same, hitting his arm away and tilting your head even farther back to finish. You’re done only a split second before the other two, who finish at the same time, grimacing not only from defeat but by the foreign bitter taste. You raise your empty cup as playful whoops erupt from the spectators.

“That’s my girl.” Isaac cheers idly, bumping the sides of his fist with your own as he happily collects his earnings.

“Don’t I get a percentage? I did all the work!”

“y/l/n, they don’t pay the race horses. All the money goes to the lucky better.”

“I should have put my money on you.” Scott groans, laughing when Stiles playfully shoves him.

“I was close, she cheated!” Stiles excitedly argues, and you’re glad his mood has improved since before.

“Like hell we were, she killed us. And I for one will not be participating. I’m definitely placing a bet though.” Allison retorts, reaching into her wallet for cash.

“Do you really want to be embarrassed again Stiles? I’m not going easy on you.”

“Bring it on y/n/n.”

*****

“Okay, we’re officially turning in. Will you guys be okay?” Lydia yawns as she finishes, Scott and Allison getting up as well.

“What? The party was just getting st-started!” Stiles hiccups with raised arms.

“Sti, it’s 2 in the morning. We all need to get some rest for the drive tomorrow.” Scott explains, ruffling his drunken best friends hair and chuckling when he slowly swats his hands away.

“Whatever dad. You’ll stay up with me?” Stiles turns to you with a hopeful expression, eyebrows furrowing when Scott distracts you with a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re okay to get him to bed?” He asks whilst ignoring Stiles’ offended expression at the notion, turning to head inside when you nod.

“I would stay, but then I’d be a third wheel so...Night!” Isaac chimes with a charming grin, dodging your attempt at hitting him and planting a quick kiss to your temple before rushing inside.You and Stiles mumble reluctant replies when the rest of the pack shouts their good-nights, their absence bumming you out.

“Lame.” You simultaneously deadpan, giggling into your cups at the jinx. The fire’s only embers by now, a chill running down your spine at the sudden,cool summer night air.

“Mmm.” Stiles hums through the his cup, attempting to shrug off his flannel whilst holding the plastic between his teeth. “Take this, it’s cold.” You shake your head quickly, dizzying at the movement.

“I’m fine, if I took it you’d be cold.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes, cup in his mouth slashing a little bit of liquid down his chin when he continues to try and maneuver out of the fabric. “You’re such a lightweight.”

“Am n-not!” He hiccups between words, mumbling due to the plastic still clenched between his teeth. You laugh again, shuffling across the couch to help him out of the shirt. You know he’ll only persist if you refuse again, deciding to give in to his stubborn behavior instead of arguing. You get his arm that’s closest the you out of the first sleeve, reaching across his lap to help remove the other.

Stiles is instantly overwhelmed with the scent of that sweet perfume you’re always wearing. The heat emanating from your body disorienting him for moment before he remembers the cup still in his mouth. You finally get his other arm free, sitting back on your legs only to meet his droopy brown eyes. He looks a little stunned, and you realize the alcohol’s made you a bit more bold than usual. His face is only inches away, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his tongue. Slowly, he removes the cup from his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You take a sharp intake of breath, the air between ou tingling with some sort of buzz as your eyes avert down to his now visible lips. His eyes go down too, and you’re reminded of the wrap shirt Lydia had forced you to borrow, exposing a bit more chest than you’re used to. He clears his throat shuffling mere centimetres closer to you as his hands move towards your neck. This is it, he’s finally going to-

“You’re necklace, it’s messed up.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and you try not to completely deflate when he clears his throat gain as he clumsily drags the chain so the charm is back against the soft skin between your collarbones.

“Oh, thanks.” You internally cringe at how disappointed you sound, shrugging on the warm fabric of his flannel and leaning back against the couch.

******

You’re sitting on the counter and watching amusedly as Stiles clumsily searches the cabinets for something to eat.

“These people eat like hamsters, where’s the junk food?” He whines, exasperated from his mere 30 second search.

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or drink.” He let’s out another whine at your words, giving up on his search and leaning against the counter across you expectantly. Admittedly, he’s pretty tipsy and nearing drunk, not to mention pretty pissed that he chickened out earlier. He feigns annoyance when you nibble on your thumb to think of a question, heart melting when he observes how your feet kick in the air as the dangle off the counter top.

“Kiss marry kill. Isaac, Derek, and Scott.” He groans at your words, lips upturning to a smirk when you giggle into your cup.

“Can’t I just marry Scott, then kill Isaac and Derek?” He tries to argue but you immediately shake your head, expectant of a complete answer. “Fine. Kiss Derek, marry Scott, and kill Isaac.”

“Why Isaac?”

“Because he’s an ass, and he wears scarves in the summer. My turn.” You roll your eyes at his words, awaiting his question.

“Do you have a crush on Isaac?” Your eyebrows furrow in shock, shaking your head and laughing loudly at the notion. Sure, Isaac was hot, but you’d never had that sort of feelings for each other. He was more like a brother if anything, just like Scott. Stiles seems surprised at your answer, persisting the moment you quiet down. “Then who was he talking about before?”

“It’s actually my turn, no double questions. What were you so mad about before?” If he wanted to get personal, you might as well match the energy. He rolls his shoulders at the question, bringing the cup to his lips to hide his smile when you throw your hands up in defeat.

“Coward.” you grimace playfully, pouting when he only shrugs at your insult.

He jumps, startled when you gasp suddenly and reach over the counter. Turning up the volume on the stereo from before you’d brought inside. ‘Wolves’ by one direction, plays much louder now that you’ve turned the notch on the device.

“Oh my god, why?” Stiles dramatically looks up to the ceiling when you hop off the counter in excitement. Of course, he recalls the first time he’d heard the song. You’d forced him and Scott to listen to it in the jeep one night, saying it was just too ironic to not make it ‘your song.’ And whether him or Scott want to admit it or not, they’d belted out the lyrics with you a few times before.

You’re grabbing his hands before he can protest farther, rolling up the baggy sleeves of his flannel for the umpteenth time that evening as you begin to move to the opening notes, pulling him along with you. You thank the alcohol for your surge of confidence and the easy sway of your hips, grateful for the liquid courage.

“You totally love this song!” You shout over the music, too drunk to care if the others are awoken by your antics.

“Totally don’t!” Stiles retorts just as loud, laughing when you raise his arm so you can spin under it. Beginning to bob his head and mumbling the lyrics you’re currently shouting.

In the middle of the night when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark.

One by one, I gotta take them down,

We can run and hide, ain’t going down without a fight

You both howl obnoxiously with the music, jumping and spinning as it booms through the speakers. The alcohols hitting now, effectively loosening his muscles and making the both of you laugh obnoxiously at how stupid you probably look. Despite the silliness of it all, it’s the most at ease Stiles has felt in a while. There’s a certain energy you bring, a type of way you make him feel that’s always drawn you so close.You stumble over to the stereo when the third verse comes on, grin not leaving your lips when you feel his reluctance to let go of your hand. You turn the music down, not familiar enough with the remaining verses to be able to sing it. Besides, you were lucky enough Lydia hadn’t come down there, slippers and all, to scold you both to bed.

“That’s it? There’s more to the song!”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” You pant out, both out breath as you move beside him to lean against the counter once more.

“I-I don’t, just like dancing with you.” He blurts out, too intoxicated to care to filter his words. You study the spacey look in his eyes, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and exhilaration. It’s funny, a few months ago this would’ve just been any other sleepover with your best friend. But it’s different now, you can only assume he too has noticed the shift in energy between you. The electricity

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Wh-what?” He turns to face you, brows furrowing at your hopeful eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“We’re still doing this?”

“Just say dare!” You persist, hitting his chest in annoyance. The alcohol’s coursing through your veins, giving you too much confidence for your own good.

“Fine, dare.” He’s confused at your change in behavior, not recognizing the mischievous expression on your face.

“Kiss me.”

And that’s when Stiles Stilinski, Romeo himself, pukes into the kitchen sink.

*********

“I am not th-that drunk.” He stops mid sentences, clutching his chest and pausing to suppress a particularly violent hiccup.

“Sure Sti, tell that to the vomit on your shirt.” You huff out, half listening to the belligerent boy towering over you as you guide him towards the bathroom. He’s gotten significantly drunker while you were cleaning the sink, all the alcohol finally catching up to his inexperienced self. And sure, the slurred words and tousled hair was cute at first, but now he was a much too heavy toddler you were practically dragging to the bathroom.

“I wan’ sleep.” You fumble out a laugh at his childish demeanor, shuffling into the guest bathroom and flipping on the switch to illuminate the area, much to the drunk boy’s distaste as his droopy eyes adjust to the light. Admittedly, your’re also significantly intoxicated, thought process definitely a little slower than usual. Luckily, you’ve had enough experience to know when to cut yourself off.

“You can sleep after I get you to stop reeking of vomit, now arms up.” You order sternly, heart melting when his lips puff into a small pout at your words. He does as told, lanky arms high up in the air as you hastily pull the fabric up and over his head, careful not to get the throw up anywhere else on him. You run the cotton under the sink, wreching at the smell. The things you do for your friends

When his shirt is thoroughly washed, you diligently wring it out and hang it on the rack with the hand towels beside the counter. Crouching down to inspect the cabinet under the sink for anything to clean yourselves up with. You grab a small washcloth and a spare bottle of mouthwash, placing the items on the counter and meeting Stiles’ gaze. He’s a bit zoned out, but he’s smiling sweetly down at you as he watches you work.

“You’re like, really pretty.”

“And you totally can’t handle you’re liquor.” You retort with a roll of your eyes, pushing away the butterflies his words release. “Now swish and spit, your breath stinks.” Without as much of a fuss, he takes the bottle and does as instructed, letting out a dramatic ‘aah’ and giggling when you meet eyes in the mirror. You follow after him, figuring that’d have to be the maximum dental hygeine for the night considering the time crunch. You grab the rag from the counter, running it under the water and lathering soap into it before lifting it towards the boy beside you.

“Can I wash you off real quick?” You wait for his nod of approval, chuckling at the hilarity of the situation s you run the warm rag across his upper chest. “This’ll be one hell of a story.”

“Mmm.” He only hums in response, looking down at you intently, serious expression making your head tilt to the side in question.

“What?”

“Nothin, just sorry I didn’t kiss you.” Your movements halt at his words, continuing when you turn your attention back down to your task instead of his eyes.

“Told you I could out drink you. Next time don’t challenge me to shots.”

“N-noted.”

******

“Shhhh!” Your eyes are wide in warning as you make your way down the hall, arms wrapped around Stiles in support as he stumbles along with you.

“Shhh-shhh.” He mimics your actions, bringing a clumsy finger to his lips as you hold back a laugh. Finally, you set him down on the bed, turning towards the guest room dresser and tossing the sweats and t shirt Lydia must have left there to him. He groans, quickly undressing and tugging on the new clothes. Laying back down on the bed and throwing his forearm to cover his eyes as you change into Lydia’s spare shorts, figuring the shirt and flannel you still had on were sufficient enough as pjs.

You and Scott had fallen asleep during late nights at Stiles’ house numerous times whilst investigating Beacon Hills latest supernatural threat. So it’s not surprising when Stiles clumsily shuffles under the silky duvet with a satisfied sigh, lifting the covers so you can climb in next to him. It’s a queen sized bed, much bigger than the creaky twin you’ve shared before. Still, Stiles moves even closer, you’re well aware he’ll only fall asleep if he’s in the very middle of the mattress. It’s quiet, and you happily settle into the covers as sleep tugs at your eyelids. Only opening one eye when the boy beside you turns onto his side to face you.

“You know y/n, I miss when we were little. L-like when we used to dress up in our moms clothes, and then I twisted my ankle wearing my moms heels.” You chuckle fondly at his slurred retelling of the memory, images flashing by of when you were kids. He studies you, trying to commit the sweet laugh to memory before continuing. “I mean, I like where we are now. I do, because we’re still best friends and I still love you.”

“I love you too Sti.”

“N-no, no you don’t get it.” He shakes his head vigorously, drunken state dramatizing his movements as he argues. Sounding almost solemn at your response. “I mean I love you, and it’s terrifying. A pretty new revaluation might I add, so I thought getting drunk might help. Am I drunk?”

“Yes, very much so. And you should sleep before you say something-”

“No! I meas you have to know this. What if like, I never told you and then...Well I never would have told you! That’s like, Shakespeare tragedy bullshit and we’re definitely better than that. So, I love you. And not in the ‘we took baths together and played dress up in our moms clothes’ type love. It’s the ‘I’m always confused because you give me this...Weird tingly feeling and I never know how to go about it and it makes me want to kiss you’ type of love...I guess. Am I like, really drunk?” You’re to say the least stunned with his confession, though the various hiccups in between sentences didn’t call for the most romantic ambiance.

“Yeah, you’re pretty wasted.” You smooth out his messy hair, too exhausted (and tipsy) to want to accept any of this is actually happening.

“Sorry I didn’t kiss you. The vomiting was unrelated to you making a move on me, just so we’re clear.” He croaks out, voice rasped from the lull of oncoming slumber.

“And here I was thinking I made you nauseous.”

“No, you do give me butterflies though. Too pretty.” He muses, chuckling when you push away his face, nose having booped yours to accentuate his point. It can’t be legal to be this cute while intoxicated.

“You gotta close your eyes Sti, have to sleep off all this alcohol.”

“M’kay. You’ll stay with me the whole night?”

“Always.”

**********

It’s fairly early when you finally wake, sunlight seeping into the room from the early morning light. You want more than anything to go back to bed, figuring another hour would help ware off the pounding headache tormenting your skull. Only assuming Stiles must feel even worse. It’s then, when you try to shuffle closer into his body warmth, that you realize the bed is empty. The space where he’s laid beside you is still warm, and you reluctantly sit up with the harsh reality that everyone else must be awake too.

You follow the scent of bacon to the kitchen, immediately met with a very grumpy looking Stiles hunched over a cup of coffee. He’s wearing Scott’s lacrosse hoodie, sunglasses covering his eyes and hood pulled over his head to shield himself from any intruding light. You sit down on the stool of the island he’s leaning against, offering a sympathetic smile when he pushes the steaming mug towards you with a grunt.

“Morning everyone!” Isaac chimes with a bright smile, slapping the two of you on the back as you simultaneously groan.

“Late night?”

“You know, I’m usually appreciative of the cheeky sarcasm Scott. But if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face right now, I will seriously consider castrating you.” You stare down the alpha, not even phasing his cheerful demeanor.

“Well before you do that, have some breakfast.” Allison only laughs when the two of you gladly pull the plates she’s placed in front you closer with a genuine murmur of ‘thank yous’. Eager to have the food soak up the alcohol and rid you of the awful hangover.

“And this is why I don’t drink.” Lydia retorts, placing down a bottle of Advil between you with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Speaking of, what was that music last night? Scared me half to death.” Allison inquires, looking to the others with a knowing smile when you and Stiles laugh through a forkful of hash browns, eyes on each other and avoiding the others. The two of you might not see it, but you’re practically married with how in sync you are. Always giving each other side eye when approached by someone you both hate, finishing each others sentences. You make a perfect pair, if only one of you had the balls to act on it.

“Flannel looks good on you y/n.” Isaac snickers, tugging on your elongated sleeve with a grin. Only more amused when you flip him off in silence.

“You know, none of the guys I’ve hooked up with have never offered me their shirts.” Lydia pouts while pushing around the eggs on her plate, shocked when you and Stiles simultaneously choke on your (now individual) coffees.

“We, we didn’t hook up!” Stiles defends, now unable to meet your mortified gaze.

“Well, I know that I just mean-”

“Hold on. Am I missing something here? You two have seriously never...I mean never?” Isaac looks genuinely bewildered as he rambles on, Allison and Scott not so discreetly giggling into their mugs as the conversation continues.

“No!”

“Seriously? I’m always teasing because I figured it was all just unspoken knowledge.” The blonde’s genuinely intrigued, not noticing Lydia’s persistent signals to stop talking. “Scott, you’re telling me you can’t smell the sexual ten-”

“OKAY, we’ll be leaving now. Lydia, thank you for having us-”

“And thank you for the liquor we’re seriously regretting right now.” You finish the farewell for Stiles, grabbing your things and headed out the door before any of them can protest.

“See you at home!” Scott yells out, still finding the situation between his best friends hilarious.

“And always use protect-” Isaac’s voice is cut off when Stiles slams the front door behind him, the both of you trudging towards the jeep. The boy letting out another groan and pinching his nose when you pull the door shut a little too hard, loud noise ringing in his ears.

You fumble through the glove compartment when he pulls out of the long driveway and towards the road, satisfied when you find a spare pair of sunglasses under a pile of crumpled papers.

“You keep this up and I won’t have any more clothes.”

“To be fair, you insisted I put this on.” You argue, referring to the cotton shirt wrapped around you. “How much do you remember of last night anyway?” He chuckles at your question, rubbing his hand over his jaw in contemplation.

“Geez, well there was truth or dare with everyone. They turned in early and you and I hung outside a bit longer. I was...Looking for food in the kitchen and there was dnacing? And I’m pretty sure there was a bathroom involved.”

“You may or may not have puked in Lydia’s sink.” Stiles slaps a hand over his face at your words, laughing along with you when he sees your amusement in his new-found knowledge.

“I’m so sorry, was I a total pain?”

Of course not! You only confessed your love to me like you were expressing a new hobby in which you now have no recollection of.

“Nah, I helped you clean up and then we went to bed. Besides, you’ve taken care of my drunk ass plenty of times.” He observes you in small glances he can get between looking at the road. You seem as though you’re holding back.

To be honest, you were a bit frustrated. On one hand, you could just be honest with him and explain hat he’d said. But he was wasted, and it felt wrong to confess for him. Besides, if he wanted to act on his feelings he would have. And that definitely hurt, but it probably meant he had the same concerns as you. Being best friends made this shit complicated. With everything going on in this town, you had a lot of responsibilities to withhold. You couldn’t afford to lose each other. Ironically, you loved each other too much to risk starting a relationship.

“Sti, you just passed my neighborhood.”

“Yeah. It’s still early and I’m not waiting for this hangover to pass alone. We’re going to my place.”

“Star Wars and pizza?”

“Star Wars and pizza.”

*********

“I’m just saying, the amount of accidental incest in medi is actually uncanny.”

“You bring this up every time we watch A New Hope.”

“I know, but seriously!” He shuffles on his bed, pushing away the pizza box with only a few pieces of crust remaining inside. “Just like that movie you’re always making me watch. The one with the girl and her step-brother.”

“Hey! I told you, Clueless is so much better when you pretend Josh is just a family friend!”

“But we shouldn’t have to pretend it wasn’t originally written about two step siblings falling in love. I mean, what kind of trope is that?”

“Fair enough, I guess old rich white men all have a thing for their siblings.”

“Gross, I’m officially grossed out.” When your laughter settles down, Stiles starts to mess with his fingers. Looking between you and his lap as if debating with his next words.

“Listen, are you sure I didn’t...Say anything last night?” You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, figuring you could at least tell your own truth without completely exposing his.

“Stiles, we were both pretty drunk. I don’t know, I guess something could have happened?”

“How do you mean?” You’re unsettled with how awkward this has all become. But it’s not like this could keep going unsaid. It was too much of a weight to be concealing all of this from him. Stiles was the person you went to for a good vent, and you can’t really vent to your best friend about...Well, being in love with your best friend.

“I may have possibly, maybe asked you to kiss me. And you might have thrown up right after the offer.” His eyes bulge in surprise, and you cover your face with a strained cry at the confession. “It’s your fault for asking!” You whine, instantly regretting saying anything in the first place. This was dumb, you were totally dumb, and no you looked like a complete fool, all because of stupid Stiles.

“Hey.” His voice is soft when he pulls your hands down, mischievous smirk utterly confusing you. “Truth or dare?”

“You do remember! You asshole!” You shout instantly, slapping at his chest as he laughs.

“Woah, woah wait. I may have remembered a bit more than I mentioned in the car. But how was I supposed to know you actually wanted to kiss me or if it was the tequila talking? I figured maybe if you told me the truth, then I’d know if you really meant it.” You stare at him blankly, not nearly as amused as he is.

“If it’s any consolation, you look really cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Charming, Stilinksi. Do you happen to remember the part where your blacked out ass gave an entire monologue about how in love with me you are? And how sorry you were that you didn't kiss-” With that, he takes hod of the side of your face and connects your lips to his Finally releasing whatever tension that’s been building for agonizing months. It’s nice, really nice, but he’s not getting away that easy. You smack his chest again, fighting the urge to pull him back into you when you observe how flushed he looks.

“Ow, stop hitting me! I had to do something, you were embarrassing me!”

“Good! I’m glad you feel a smidge of what I do, Romeo. You’re just gonna kiss me?”

“I’m sorry, should I not have? Did I totally just misread that?”

“N-no. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. But I figured the only reason you hadn’t said something sooner...Or sober, was because you were afraid of what I was afraid of. With all the shit we go through, I wouldn’t ever want to jeopardize our friendship.” He’s silent at that, trying to find a way in which to convey his thoughts.

“Y/n, we’re a part of the pack. Nothing can break that bond. No matter what, you’re my best friend first. Whatever shit come our way next, we’ll know how to handle it together, like we always do. Besides, if I ever hurt you Scott and Isaac would make sure I never saw the light of day again.” You chuckle softly at his words, feeling a weight you hadn’t known was there lifted off your shoulders.

“I think this is the part where you ask the final truth or dare.”

“Well, I would dare you to kiss me, but you have to promise you wont puke again.”

505 notes · View notes

dollslayer · 4 years

Text

Botanical Interest

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You’re a florist working the wedding of Brooklyn’s most respected mob boss when you catch the eye of his best man.

W/C: 1557

Warnings: Allusions to violence, swearing, copious amounts of blushing

A/N: My second ever fic! I wrote this as an entry to @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s Soft Dark 5k Challenge (congrats!) using dialogue prompt 9 (bolded) with a Mob!AU. No smut, just fluff. While I’m a sucker for Soft!Dark I thought I’d keep it light and fluffy! Might enter a second one with some darker themes.

I’m brand new to writing and the fandom so if you want you can check out my first fic (also a Mob!AU!) and please reach out with any and all comments or thoughts! I’m eager to know!! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

_______________________

The first time you saw him you didn’t actually see him because you ran square into him while you were looking the other way. Stubbing your nose right into his chest and nearly spilling the contents of the box you were holding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’ve got so much to do so I’ve been running around and I just didn’t see you I’m-“

“Forgiven. You’re forgiven, sweetheart” a smoky voice with confidence and amusement informed you.

You loved being a florist but you were short handed for this wedding and needed to get a move on. You wouldn’t have taken the job but the infamous Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn himself was getting married. It would be great exposure for you but when a man like him asks something of you you don’t exactly have a choice. In all the chaos of it you didn’t watch your step.

Cheeks still burning with embarrassment, your eyes met those of Barnes’ right hand man, Steve Rogers. Now you weren’t just embarrassed you were nervous.

Taking a step back and shuffling the box in your hands you sent him a sheepish smile. “Right, well, sorry again. I’ve really got a lot to do before the ceremony, so...” trailing off you started to walk away. Just distract yourself with the work and try not to worry whether you’d just offended a member of the mob.

—————————————

Steve nodded and gave you a small smile, letting you return to the task at hand. There was some issue with the venue and the owners were being stubborn but the wedding planner was busy putting out a different fire. So, being the best man that he was, he decided to come down and use his ‘persuasive skills’.

He almost forgot what he was there for as he watched you walk away. Sure, you looked a little crazed in your work but you were cute. Frazzled but determined as you tinkered with the centerpieces, he let himself be distracted for a moment.

Sighing as his phone buzzed asking for an update on the venue, he shook his head. With a scowl he straightened his posture and clenched his fists as he set off in search of the property manager. Poor bastard.

—————————

30 minutes, 2 punches, and one very credible threat later Steve was leaving the manager's office. He held the door and looked at the man one last time, “And I think I’ll stay to make sure you don’t get any ideas about going back on the agreement.”

At least that was his excuse for sticking around. He still had some time before he needed to get changed so he ambled around until he spotted you across the large room. Planting himself against the wall, a tiny smile on his face as he watched you place each stem with care.

You still looked a little pressed but he could tell you were really enjoying what you were doing. He liked to see a woman hard at work and good at what she does. He liked seeing you so flustered earlier when you ran into him. The heat flooding to your face told him you knew exactly who he was. Good.

Bending to reach a stray peony he took a moment to admire your body. He had to wonder if the blush on your face earlier would be the same one you’d have when he’d whisper dirty things into your ear.

Letting his imagination wander a little bit he didn’t realize you’d gone outside. Maybe it was a good time for Steve to step out and have a smoke.

———————————

You felt some relief as you saw him take off in another direction and felt relief. Finally letting yourself relax a bit you started on the arch. You heard yelling from down the hall but decided to ignore it, you didn’t have time to worry about it.

Some time later you were still working on the arch when you noticed something in the corner of your eye. Taking a moment to look up you saw that it was Steve. What was he doing? Whatever. He said he forgave you just focus on the arch. You worked the best you could to not let his presence bother you.

Finally done with the arch, you needed to go back to the van for more supplies and finishing touches. Letting yourself forget about your unexpected company you climbed into the back of the van and hauled out some boxes.

“You need help with that, sweetheart?” He offered.

You hadn’t expected him out here and let out a shriek. Jesus Christ is he following me now? Steve casually walked over to you with a quirk in his brow waiting for an answer.

“I- Uh, no. No, I’m good. I’m great, actually. My assistant is somewhere around so I don’t need help so you can just, uh, go, I guess. Thanks though.” How you managed to get the entire sentence out only stumbling slightly in your words was beyond you.

“Alright. Well if you need some muscle or a strong set of hands... I’ll be around for a while.” He responded while sporting what you were sure was his signature grin.

You watched him make his way back inside and let out the breath you definitely knew you were holding. Just finish the flowers and get out. You can do this.

—————————

The reception was winding down and you waited for the last guests to leave before you started disassembling things. Waiting out back with the van and your assistant you thought back to your awkward interactions with Steve.

You knew he was dangerous, or at least what he did was dangerous. He didn’t say one threatening word to you and he still had your palms sweating. Hopefully the wedding party would be long gone and you wouldn’t have to see him again.

The lights were starting to come up and you put yourself to task but before you did you took a moment to really admire the arch. Hours of work, hundreds of peonies and ranunculus and so much greenery all put together in one beautiful piece. You couldn’t help but snag a picture.

“It really is gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you though.” That voice again, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Jesus Christ!” Startled for the second time by him that night your anger got the better of you. “What’s your deal huh? Why are you watching me? Am I on some list now?”

He barked out a laugh in response. “I swear I didn’t mean to start watching you, it just sort of... happened” He admittedly almost sheepishly. “You’re cute when you’re focused, you’re also cute when you’re mad.”

You could only blink at him. What do you even say to that? ‘Thanks, I find you terrifying’? “Um, thanks, I guess.” Good enough.

He held his hand out to you. “Steve Rogers.” You held your hand out to shake when he took it and kissed it instead. You stated your name as calm as you could. When he released your hand you noticed some bruises on his knuckles. Lest you forget who he is.

He seemed to notice you caught that detail. “Don’t worry. I don’t hurt anyone who don’t deserve it, certainly could never hurt a pretty face like yours.” You blushed at the compliment and turned your head.

“I… should probably get back to the flowers. Don’t wanna be here all night.” You shifted your attention to the arch and began the process of dismantling it.

“I wouldn’t mind it. Here, Doll”. He noticed you searching around for your tools and handed them to you. “Let me help you, these things look heavy”. You really shouldn’t. A piece of you kept placing this warning around him but every time he opened his mouth he was so sweet. How could you say no?

____________________________

So that’s how the big scary mobster found himself surrounded by flowers and skipping out on the after party. He asked you about yourself, how you got into floristry, he listened to you geek out about flowers. You asked him about himself and he did his best to answer while trying not to scare you off. Something about how confident you were in your work but how shy you got reeled him in. He didn’t care who saw him grinning like an idiot at you.

As he helped you load the last of your things and close the back doors of your van he leaned against it. “So, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden is just around the corner from my place but I’ve never been. Think a professional like you could spare some time for an uninformed punk like myself?”

______________________________

Was he asking you out? You couldn’t fight the growing smile on your face. You know what he does is… less than ideal but talking to him you really felt good chemistry between the two of you. He was funny and genuine and those moments where he was a little shy telling you about growing up as a scrawny kid had you feeling like you were peeking in on a side of him that you’d never expect. You looked up at him still smiling.

“Oh what the hell? When are you free?”

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #steve rogers x reader #mob!Steve rogers #Mob AU #Mob!Steve rogers x reader #Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers #fluff #marvel fanfic #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!AU

979 notes · View notes

whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. “You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

#eyeless jack #xreader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta #hanahaki #angst #masky #hoodie #brian thomas #tim wright #kate the chaser #reader insert #slender man

262 notes · View notes

husbandohunter · 4 years

Text

Boys over flowers [Genshin Impact/Various x Reader] Part 2

Not everything had to be about fighting. Ahem Childe.

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Xiao

{Zhongli}

Out of all the bountiful possessions in the land he carved with his very own hands, the glaze lily had always been his favourite.

This flower was a nostalgia stained with time. As much as he loved them, the love he felt was more of a bittersweet sadness if anything. The loss of a friend, his mentor, someone he cherished so deeply, all of it was held into a single glaze lily.

Once as Morax, now as ordinary Zhongli, in those 6000 years he had seen it all. Even his grief for Guizhong faded into a memory.

Sometimes Zhongli felt like he was reading from a story book. Detatched while staring through an omniscient standpoint. It seems that his infinite years brought both experience and lonliness along the way.

"Zhongli? What are you staring at?"

But not when he was with you.

The glaze lily went on many journeys when he met you

He remembers the first encounter on a sunset night just as the petals were about to bloom. You were there, crouched down, staring into his golden eyes.

“This is for you! Not many can be fully matured like this so make sure to take good care of it,” You held it out to him and he takes the stem out of your hold.

“A parting gift, I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Zhongli sees it as a sign of a new contract, “It seems you possess a good eye when you were selecting them.”

He remembers the bouquet you presented during his birthday, the garland you placed on his head when he was reading, the vase by his desk always filled to the brim whenever you’d pay a visit to his parlour.

He remembers how the blue petals scattered across the floor the day you two married, everywhere he went so did this flower. Everytime he saw this flower, he thought of you.

Was it okay to feel like this? No one can ever replace Guizhong, was it okay to love again even when this being was much more perishable than she was? Zhongli was use to the experience of tragedy and loss as it was part of life.

Ah, so this must be what it feels like to live like a mortal.

To cherish every passing moment knowing that it won’t last forever. He will embrace it to the end.

Old memories that were once dust rose from the soil, now reborn into a new beginning. Your curious gaze leans closer to his profile, sitting side-by-side under the blankets of your shared bed, the corners of his lips lift into a small smile.

“I’m only reminiscing, my dear. You don’t need to worry for me.” He kisses your forehead and tucked you to bed. The candle now blown out as his arms wrapped around your waist while spooning from behind.

Zhongli closed his eyes, knowing if he dreamt of a garden full of glaze lilies, there will be no sadness behind it.

{Childe}

Mother fucker would try to turn this into a sparring session.

This is why you NEVER invite Childe. If the valley were the air nomads, Childe was the fire nation. He’d stomp his muddy shoes in front of you just to get your attention simply because he knows it will piss you off.

An angry s/o means a potential fight. Win win situation.

Thus, no one blamed you for giving him a cold shoulder after that.

“Aha, looks like I went a little too far, didn’t I? Alright alright, I’ll stop trampling on your flowers from now on, you have my word. So talk to me, okay? Please?”

Alas you spare him a glance, “Make that a pinky promise.”

He didn’t know you were so serious about gardening. The Feiyun commerce guild took greate pride in cultivating the finest silk flowers in all of Teyvat and you being from that guild held up that legacy. Even if Childe tries to buy back the ones he stepped on, nothing could match the quality of your work.

Needless to say, your little hobby became a normal thing, Childe was very chaotic in nature so something more calm was nice to mediate that attitude. You taught him how to water plants, place the fertilizer and knowing which ones to pick.

But let’s be real, florist Childe isn’t that far-fetched because he is 10/10 waifu material.

Then Teucer comes in and tags along. He wanted to take some silk flowers back to Tonia until Childe informed him they’ll wilt on their way to Snezhnaya.

“Aww, that’s too bad,” he would say while pouting, “Then I’ll give them to you big sister (Y/n)!”

“How sweet, you’ll be quite the charmer when you’re all grown up, Teucer. Maybe even better than your big brother.”

“Come on now, babe. You know that’s impossible.”

You twirled the silk flower right under your nose, the playful tone never leaving your voice, “Oh really? You and Teucer both share the same genes so yes, it is a possibility.”

An amusing glint dances in the ocean of his gaze as he gleefully remarks, “Well if you put it that way, I think Teucer would be at a very big disadvantage.”

“What do you-”

Before you could finish, Childe covers Teucer’s eyes and leans over to steal a sinful kiss, sliding his tongue inside. He purposely brushed his lips over yours after parting, completely satisfied by your flustered expression.

I love this bastard

{Xiao}

Hip hip hooray for having both Qiqi and Xiao in your party. Must be fun collecting their ascension materials.

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Your dumbass fell off the high cliff while obtaining the violet grass, Xiao yeets in from nowhere and caught you from death’s clutches.

Shall I mention that this had happened TWICE already?

Xiao carries you to safety and gently settles you down to your feet. He shot you the sharpest and most deadpan look he could muster because actions speak louder that words, he was trying to make a point.

You gave him a weary smile as the violetgrass batch limps in your hands along with the qingxins.

“I can hardly fathom how utterly stupid and moronic you can actually be. What did you think would happen when you tried to pull off that stunt? That you’d suddenly grow wings and be able to fly?”

His harsh words put you back into your place like a scolded child, “I’m sorry...I just wanted to help...”

Mah man does not watch what he says and always end up guilty. Your kicked puppy look is really going to be the death of him. He means well, just harsh when it comes to your well-being.

“Fine, give me those. I’ll take care of it.” He wouldn’t allow you to retort, he just took them from your hands and left without a word.

Let’s just say that Xiao isn’t the best when it comes to handling flowers as he would handle monesters, his touch isn’t the most delicate either and would prefer to get the job done fast.

Sometimes he’d pull the roots our along with it, dirt and mud dripping from the bottom of the stem. Or the opposite. He pulls too hard and the stem just SNAPS and you’re left with just the blossom.

“Does it matter? They’re only ingredients as you’ve said.”

That gave you a perfect excuse to teach him the ways of gardening and just be more delicate overall.

At first he didn’t understand why humans were so meticulous about these things but when he saw a man present a bouquet to his wife, Xiao began to reconsider his methods. He doesn’t undersand mortal traditions as much and sticks to something simple and classy.

Don’t be surprised when you find a bunch on your desk for your birthday <3

{Albedo}

The sheer cold of dragon spine could naturally kill any botanical organisms aside from mints. The only flowers Albedo usually sees are the ones he artificially makes.

But being the genius he was, Albedo knew every variety of flowers to exist in the book. In this case, HE was the expert.

To him, the flower was the symbol of life. Albedo only knew the scientific facts of plant life and their natural functions, you on the otherhand were more familiar with the flower languages in a deeper meaning.

Today was a rare day where Albedo figured he’d step out of that freezing lab and conduct his research somewhere warmer, specifically Windrise where it’s quiet and away from the city.

“Dandelions may not be flowers but thei’re the main specialty of Mondstadt carrying the meaning of ‘freedom’! That’s probably how the Acting Grandmaster got her title.”

“Freedom...” He ponders, “I guess you cold say that.”

Albedo can’t understand why people would choose to associate meaning with plants. Where do their ideas come from? And why? Frankly, he can’t see the point in any of it.

But at the same time, it made him happy to see you so enthusiastic about his research even if it wasn’t quite near the target. Albedo had always been so engrossed in his work and you’d just silently keep him company of the side, not many times where you both fot to nerd out on the same topic.

Emotions were still a mystery to him. It seems that even upon the most boring subjects, they don’t seem boring anymore when talking to his significant other. Soon enough, Albedo found himself putting his research aside and just listening to you talk.

“And the Rose expresses romance and love. It’s common for lovers to give it to another during Valentines day.”

He hums cheekily, “Are you telling me that just to hint me to give one to you?”

“W-Well, I didn’t say that.”

He got nothing done. Perhaps his research can wait for another day, right now, he was more curious on what other meanings can a flower hold.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #genshin childe #childe x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #nya-writes

640 notes · View notes

un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

383 notes · View notes

jafndaegur · 3 years

Text

Things Said and Unsaid

Jumin Han x MC

Mystic Messenger

a/n: now that the zine is long past, here is my story from the Garden of Eden Zine:) Enjoy!

Jumin twisted the flower stem between his fingers as he reclined further against the chair. Waxy pink petals mocked him in a way that he did not appreciate and the bright bloom weighed heavily, leaning forward in his careless grasp. He rested his chin on the back of his free hand, temple twitching at the not-quite perfect amount of wine for a buzz but enough for a headache.

MC's voice still floated in the air as if she'd just called about her final report for the RFA event.

"All of the flower arrangements are ready for the party," her voice was stilted over the phone even as she tried to be chipper.

Jumin wondered if she felt uncomfortable around him with everything said and done. "They'll look beautiful I'm sure." He reassured.

The pause and silence between them felt unnatural and constricting.

"What did you pick? For the bouquets." He finally peeped out, his voice rocking with concern. Had they always struggled with communicating? The memory of being able to freely converse with her, speaking of any little trivial thing that came to mind an easy and amusing way for him to pass the time. Surely he hadn’t ruined things so thoroughly during the time she had spent at the penthouse.

MC’s airy and pitched laugh reached his ears in a painful display of her discomfort. "That'd ruin the surprise."

And what a surprise it'd been.

Jumin had been eager, and even anxious, in awaiting her arrival to the party. Afterall they all owed its renewed existence to her. And he himself owed so much to her too. When they had parted the night before, V rightfully helping her return to the apartment, it had been with a tender apology. She'd embraced him—held him close and promised things would work out the way they should.

He wasn’t sure if it had been a lie or her convincing herself. Perhaps some odd adherration of both to her conviction.

The day of the party came, but MC did not.

It was obvious that Seven had hesitated his journey before finally making the reluctant trek to Jumin with a piece of paper in one hand and a tied bouquet of flowers in the other.

The pink camellia had seemed so bright and vibrant in the light of the ballroom. And even now in Jumin's hand, standing stark and vibrant, the bloom dazzled against the rest of his muted parlor decor. It smiled and flourished, and yet here he sat more dejected and more confused than ever.

Somehow, he managed his way back to the kitchen, where the rest of his bouquet lay abandoned on his dining room table—scattered petals and bulbs strewn across the wood top due to his careless toss of the bunch. He had been angry and frustrated at the time, but now he felt guilt tugging at the span of his ribs when he thought of the disregard he gave to her last gift to him. The note lay innocently next to it, as if trying to appease him with the gentle slope of MC's handwriting.

I've meant everything Jumin. Said and unsaid. I don't regret anything and I hope you won't either. But we both need this to move forward, I think this is what's right...I hope you'll see that. I've left you the best.

-MC

Among the flowers, pink carnations were the easiest to pick out. The petals crimped and wavy, and the blossoms themselves the most commonplace and plain. And yet MC had made sure the flowers had stayed nestled close amongst bushels of goldenrod. Another odd pick for a formal party. His eye for detail made things easy to recognize that beautiful hardworking and problem-solving touch MC made with every deliberate and precise choice. He knew that much. From the sorrel that warmly held everything together, to the pink camellias blushing prettily at the center wrapped in forget-me-nots.

In times such as these Jumin realized he had one consultant he could count on, a source where information passed easily from itself to him. Where he could learn unhindered and without bias about the best that MC left behind for him. Because surely, she did not simply mean the best flowers from the bunch. She was too clever for that.

He found himself at a library, in the area with the farmer's almanacs and horticulture how-tos. It was an aisle he frequented when seeking answers to inquiries about his vineyard.

Heavy and cumbersome, he found an encyclopedic tome titled Whispers from the Flowers. It was an odd name but upon opening it he found satisfaction knowing that his assumption on its topic had been correct. The flower language. Something not in a million years he imagined himself researching. But for MC, he would do anything. And his beloved left behind one very, very important clue. "Things said and unsaid." And he hoped it was more than a mere sentimental way of saying she left him behind regardless of whether or not she was able to relay all she wished to.

Jumin found the index at the back of the book, searching for sorrel first. MC had meticulously ensured that the green and stringy plant entwined itself around the main bouquet like a cradle. It was hardly a flower and yet the vibrancy of it added life and color outside of the thematic pink hues of the other blooms. Affection. Sorrel is the gateway to confessions and the key to unlocking the heart—it lays bare the raw and pure emotion of those who offer it. His fingers danced over the words, tracing the letters with the faintest of smiles. MC's disappearance seemed like a rather large lack of said-affection, but he knew there had to be further explanation. And all answers resided within the little puzzle she had set aside just for him.

Because she knew and understood he had every capability to solve it. He hoped.

Encouragement. Good fortune. Goldenrod offers the same blade with two edges. One of well wishes and the other of outstretched hands. It is an easy flower to convey both farewells and prosperity.

Jumin’s breath curled within his chest and his fingers hovered. “Farewells.” It was a mutter, something that he dare not speak more than a whisper. MC left behind hide nor hair of her existence. The memory of her laugh and gilded eyes were the only proof he could offer. Yet somewhere amongst the agonizing pull in his chest as he read the summary over and over again, he feared that she had truly meant her goodbye hidden within these flowers.

He knew his own faults had greatly weighed upon her decision to leave with Jihyun that day. But had he really ruined things so much that she chose never to see any of them again to escape him? Were all affections between them nullified because of his shortcomings.

Breath hitched and his fists clenched the book. Memories of true love. Forget-me-nots are the staple flower of sweet love. Anyone gifting their sweetheart with these iconic blooms know every moment spent with their true love will be cherished and treasured. Jumin’s brow furrowed. Contradictory. This was all so illogical and contradictory. If he had not just recently gone through a week-long anxiety attack and now the loss of the woman he had planned to propose to, he’d chalk these meanings up to happenstance and throw the book into the closest recycling bin. But everything said had been meant. And everything unsaid had been meant. He needed for his own sanity and for his own comprehension to know if these flowers truly enveloped MC’s feelings for him. Or if he was just a fool trying to pry into a love that was never his to keep.

“I’ll never forget you.”

A shudder. The words flowed past his lips as he read the phrase mechanically. “I’ll never forget you.” Each utterance a tremor to his heart as the walls constricted and shook.

I’ll never forget you. Pink carnations are easily the most misused and the most misunderstood. Believed to be a simpleton’s flower, the meaning behind this bloom is often lost due to being handed out of context. It’s beautiful and pastel color can often be misleading. It is a mournful flower, often handed at the cusp of goodbye. A beautiful tendril to remember a fleeting yet vibrant romance.

The search through the index for the last flower was a trembling one. Jumin’s fingers skimmed the crisp paper gentle against his skin as he tried to account his increasing pulse to apprehension or suspense. He was approaching the last piece of MC’s riddle and good or bad—real or not—he had been able to come to some conclusion about their parting. About their romance. About them.

His vision blurred and he felt the world spin.

A note had been tucked away close to the spine where the pages parted. It was a small envelope, no bigger than an index card. “Jumin” had been scripted neatly on the front, and on the back, there was a little flower drawn over the edge of the opening flap. He recognized MC’s handwriting anywhere. Impulse struck a chord with his nerves and he plucked the note quickly before forcing himself to slow down. He wanted to finish this mission.

Pink camellias. Longing for you.

No more waiting. Jumin dropped the book and tore the envelope open. His heart pitter-pattered and he double took the gentle slope of that oh-so familiar handwriting. The gentle sweep and slant of her penmanship was obvious the moment he gazed upon the ink. There before him, tiny and hopeful, was a phone number. He'd arrived at the end of her puzzle with a growing smile, shaking his head with a fond chuckle. His finger brushed the new note.

"You can be greedy, you know," he whispered reverently. "Around me don't worry. Whatever fears or struggles we may have to face, we'll figure them out together. You don't have to hold back for my sake or for yours."

He pulled two business cards from his wallet, placing one in the forget-me-knots section and the other in the section about pink camellias. Satisfied, he closed the book and walked to the front desk where the head librarian sat typing away on the computer. Noticing his approach, they gave him a warm smile. Holding out their hand, the librarian inclined their head.

"Got everything you need?"

Jumin nodded and handed the book over. "I will soon enough. In the meantime, could you place this on hold? A friend is going to pick it up."

"Of course," the librarian nodded. "Name and number."

"Han MC," Jumin decided with a touch of humor, a welcomed break to his multi-day anxiety high, before reciting the number from the note.

The person assured him that MC would be notified and that the book would be on hold for the next twenty-four hours. He bowed his head slightly and graciously thanked them before heading to the car where Driver Kim awaited. There was so little time to get ready but he wanted to make the most of this anticipation that clung to his lungs with baited breath.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme jumin han #jumin han x mc #mysme jumin

78 notes · View notes

saturatedboy · 3 years

Note

Could I please request a one shot of Donna crushing hard on a fem SO who’s terrified of her bc she’s a lord and has all these scary rumors about her but Donna is determined to win her heart even though the poor girl is as a skittish and meek as a tiny rabbit in the wild

Donna Beneviento x F!Reader

This ended up being longer than I anticipated but I do hope you enjoy!

Words: 3.9k

House Beneviento. The name had always sent shivers down your spine when you heard the other adults talk about it. You were just a female young adult with a liking towards flowers that would grow and intoxicated you with their scent. The stereotypical feminine liking towards flowers had most certainty made you the eye-candy for all the boys but you never seen yourself liking any of them back. All your life you had lived in the Village of the Shadows, you had never caught any feelings for the opposite sex. It was a strange to the elder women, they used to try pair you up with a match but every time you had refused their offering of a male towards you. Sometimes you felt as though you had put your family to shame but there was always another part of you telling you you had nothing to be ashamed off. This was you, you will choose who to love and if you never want to love or just couldn't, you were willing to accept that.

Recently, some things had been off with the Village and it's civilisation. You knew better then to question your religion on worshipping Mother Miranda as you had found comfort in knowing that someone out there was willing to protect you- too bad those days were gone and well, that was when you were just a child reaching the age of 7. Now, age 19, you've came to consider the down sides and the strange disappearance of some in the Village.

"(Y/n) my darling, would you please go collect some herbs?" Your mother had called from the kitchen as you had sat pondering in your own thoughts about the strange noises you would hear outside on a night. Having your head sat on your hand with an elbow on the table, you turned your head to face your mother who was stood with a soft smile and faint beads of sweat dripping down her forehead from cooking over the fire.

"Doesn't the elders go gather the herbs mother?" You questioned her as you move your head off your hand and decided to get up and ready for your journey after being requested by your mother. Your mother however was already caught up back in her work of cooking, completely ignoring you. You sighed with sagged shoulders and moved to collect your white cloak which had been tainted with mud at the bottom. "I'll see you soon mother," You spoke as you paced yourself to the front door and swung it open, being greeted by the swift coldness of the air.

Stepping onto the snow, you breathed in the crisp frost and stepped forward to begin your journey near the forest. Normally the elders would go collect the herbs but seemingly because you knew the area from flower picking, you are now the perfect fit to do it. Pulling your cloak closer to your body, you lifted the hood and let it sit on your head and shoulders and the rest of it draped down and covered you up to your ankles. Your breath had left faint clouds in front of you, making patterns as it swirled. This wasn't the best weather to be out in but you hoped your beige cotton dress would keep you warm enough.

As you walked through the village, you tended to ignore everyone. Their looks on you made you feel so left out. You were the only women of age who hadn't been together with a single boy of your age division. It frustrated you that such social thoughts that a women should be together with a man always made you mad. For the name of Mother Miranda, why couldn't some people in the village accept some don't want to love and some rather love someone the same gender. There was nothing wrong with choosing someone to love- but you supposed it was like this because the population of the village was going down and repopulating the village would be needed. You didn't like the idea but it was something you were taught at a young age. Slipping through tight areas, you made your way towards the the rocky bridge where you would cross to get to the forest where most of the herbs had grown.

You hoped you would find some near the front entrance.

Luck wasn't something you had, you had always been careful when you were younger making sure to never let any superstition past your mind. Any newly made shoes on the table? You would move them. Someone knocked over a mirror? You would of tried your best to catch it. You were always so careful when it came to things like that. It just made you more adorable in the eyes of those who wanted to have you for their own personal needs and you knew what personal needs they wanted. Reason why you realised you didn't have a lot of luck was the fact that the herbs you needed for medicine wasn't there. They had been cut clean and most likely would grow in another month. "Looks like I have to go further in" You whispered to yourself, taking down your hood and lifting the front of your dress up so you could climb over tree roots and not trip over a small pebble. What you didn't know when travelling further into the forest was a pair of watchful eyes...more than a pair of watchful eyes.

Humming a soft tune, you walked past the creepy dolls that were hung by the branches and got ready your small sheers to cut the herbs when you found them. Shivers crawled down your spine as you looked around, you hated those dolls with a passion- well they were cute some of them but mostly scary in your eyes. Everyone knew who's territory you were in.

Lady Beneviento's. The lady who apparently practically controlled the dolls and would use them to her command. She was a Lady. These were the rumours that had passed about your village of your time living there, which was your whole life. You knew every story about Beneviento, you couldn't help it. You had to know all about the stories to know who ruled over you and who you should worship, it wasn't a choice. Searching more, you were lucky enough to come across the correct herbs you needed, they were under a large tree with some small daisies growing underneath it from the sheltered floor by the leaves. Mentally cheering, you jogged towards the tree and leaned down, plucking at the stems of the herbs with your sheers. Whilst you was doing this, you didn't realise the lady dressed in black behind you behind a tree with a hand over a hyper-active doll clamping her mouth shut

She was intrigued at your sudden appearance. She had left her manor in search of a quiet day out seemingly the coldness would pick up very soon and she just needed that air to clear her mind. What she didn't expect was a new person to be walking in her territories and almost in the centre as well. Weirdly, she felt appreciated at the new accompany but she didn't like the fact you came and starting to pluck at her plants she didn't appreciate. She had to keep Angie quiet so she doesn't get spotted, maybe you would leave after you plucked them.

Back to yourself, you placed the freshly cut herbs into a pocket that was in your dress. Yes, you owned a practical dress with pockets which you were more than thankful for. Standing up and stretching, you turned around and smiled at your accomplishment. You felt so proud of yourself being able to come far into the Beneviento's area and being able to be brave enough to not back out. Raising your hand to your hair, you brushed out the knots and started to skip your way back home, humming once again.

Watchful eyes had followed you back to the bridge. She was caught off guard with your smile, how free you looked and how graceful you had skipped. Your humming had became a melody to her that hit all the right notes, it attracted a faint heat to rise to her cheeks. "Are you really acting like that?" The doll had whispered to her owner, staring at the black veil. The owner tilted her head to the side, showing that she was rather confused. "If you want her, quickly let us grab her and she can become out new playmate." The doll wiggled her way out of her owners arms as she had decided to go deep into thought.

Playmate? Playmate meant life to her...you being her playmate struck lightning to her heart and made her start to fidget with her fingers. A pretty being like you- no an enchanting- no...there was no words to describe how beautiful you were in her eyes. You were just so perfect, prettier than any goddess ever. You were fair like a doll, your skin looked so delicate to touch, your eyes glistened with a shine that glossed over your huge pupils. How was someone like you created? Someone that had melted any cold around her own heart. Who needs that boring playmate who was already half dead back at her mansion when she could have you.

Just as you were about to step foot on the bridge, a sudden movement of the wind picking up behind you had made you turn your head. At first you felt dizzy as your turned, your vision began to blur and was soon covered with black dots. The last thing you ever saw was the Lady dressed in black.

"she's waking up~!" A voice had rang in your head causing you to scrunch up your nose and scrunch your already shut eyes closed. The voice was high pitch, much louder than any young girl's voice. Using your hands to feel around you, you felt soft silk under your touch. Opening your eyes barely, you were greeted with a a grey tinted white above you as you were laid down. Closing your eyes to get rid of any excess blur, you reopened them and and breathed out heavily.

"What's going on..." Your voice came out hoarse, making it sound like you hadn't drank in days.

"Maybe we knocked her out a little hard?" Again the high pitched voice had said. You were curious, your mind always got the better of you but your shyness always lingered. You stayed put, staring up at the ceiling as you could hear movement being made around you along with the sound of something pattering against what you could only think of to be the floor. Maybe wood?

As you were about to speak up again and ask where you were, you jumped slightly at the touch of something small touching your ankle. Heaving your body up quickly, you was met with a doll dressed in a wedding gown holding onto your left ankle. You swallowed back a lump in your throat and raised a hand to your mouth, slightly biting down on it on hopes of not to scream. However that didn't go as plan as a small whimper came from your mouth. You quickly moved your body up on what you could see to be a bed and backed away right to the top of it trying to make distance between the doll and yourself. The doll laughed at your actions and you pulled your knees up to your chest. You wanted out. Where were you? Why are you here with this doll. You just wanted to go back home...

More noises came into the room. The small patters against the floor accompanied with larger ones had caused you to duck your head into your arms in fear. If that doll was here, then that must mean the Lady was here too. Those stories of the Manor of Beneviento came running back into your mind. You were here, your escape far gone. You were going to die here.

A sudden cough made you flinch further into your arms and the laugh of the doll had quietened down. "You may leave Angie." The new voice had spoke. The voice held such innocence yet it sounded like a grown women who had seen more than enough. More patter noises went away just as it first came. Thinking you were now safe, you raised your head up to only be met with the women dressed in black you saw from the forest. Tears had already sprung from your eyes and you shook your body, repeating the word 'no' out of fear. Not knowing what to do, Donna- the lady dressed in black- had sat at the end of the bed and just stared at you. You could feel sleep pull against your eye lids wanting you to sleep but knowing that the women you heard rumours about killing people did not sit good in your head, not to mention she was in the same exact room with you.

It took a while but you eventually calmed down, heavy breaths leaving your throat as you stared at her. You felt so small to be near someone who had loads of authority over you. You felt powerless, feeling like a small bunny next to her. "Its okay" She spoke, placing her hands onto her lap sitting up straight. You stayed quiet, going back to biting your lip feeling the taste of slight blood. "I have no intentions of hurting you."

You felt tears once again sting your eyes and your vision had blurred. You just wanted to go back home. Panicking at your crying, Donna had stood up and ran to your side scaring you at the same time. She pulled you into a close hug and rested your head on her chest. Slowly she petted your head, stroking you hair and running her fingers through it. Although the touch was strange to happen, you couldn't help but fall against her feeling weak under any power she had. You were nothing but a plaything to her, that's what you knew. However in her eyes you were the most perfect doll to ever walk and talk. Your tearing soon stopped, although you had been lost in thought for a while that you failed to notice your own hiccups.

Under the black veil, Donna had been smiling at the contact and the way you were responding. She felt your weight against her and felt her heart flutter. Such a precious person against her. She didn't know your name, your likes or anything about you but she wanted to with your permission. She wanted to know what colours you likes, if you liked dresses or if you'd prefer a suit. She wanted to dress you up in many clothing with your permission. For the first time ever, Donna had felt as though maybe the world was truly turning in her direction. You were so adorable even if you had tears in your eyes. She'd make them stop, oh she would do anything to make them stop but she knew she couldn't do anything. She knew she was part of the problem but she'd make sure you warm up to her. She would make sure you would understand her and maybe even became friends...maybe even more.

She trailed her hand from your hair to your cheek, you had fell asleep not to long ago from exhaustion and comfort from the Lady of the Manor. Donna sighed deeply, closing her eyes under her veil and pulling you even closer. Your soft snores had caused a gentle laugh to escape her lips. Surely you didn't have to go back where you came from? No, Donna wouldn't let you. She would keep you, hat's what she decided. Sure you were scared but she was more than happy to work on that with you. She would make sure you wouldn't be scared of her in a while, she couldn't have you if you were. Although Donna had felt an instant connection between the both of you, she was a very patient women when it came to wanting something she wanted. She'll just wait for you to love her, he wouldn't force you into anything. Oh the ideas that spilled into her mind about spoiling you with clothing and toys, there was so many.

Unconsciously, you turned to face her fully in your sleep. Your face was red from the tears that had spilled but you seemed calm when you were sleeping. Like a bunny...just like a bunny. Your nose would twitch every now and again as Donna watched you closely, holding you against her. Mentally Donna was squealing, you were so sweet! So different from others. Her old playmates would refuse to sleep and end up dying because she hadn't had any connection with tem but now, you had a serious connection with her and she wasn't going to let you go any time soon.

And she didn't. But you didn't mind. The day after you woke up, you were left to stay in that same room, with food and water on the side table, for a total of a week before you had decided it was time to walk about and brave your journey. You were worried about your family. Did they forget about you? Did they think you were dead? Why go back if it has been so long since you went back home.

When you left that small room, you were instantly surrounded by the small dolls. You were going to scream but the sound stopped in your throat when you saw them holding what seemed to be clothing towards you. A small note was written and placed onto of them. Crouching down, you gently lifted the clothing out of the doll's hands along with the note and out of curiosity, you gently patted the top of the doll's head. The doll jumped in excitement and jumped onto you, making you yelp in the process, and climbed to place itself on your shoulder. Calming down and gathering your breath, you walked back into your room and placed the clothing om the bed, grabbing the note to read first. The doll on your shoulder looked down at the note too.

Miss,

I am sure you are very confused on what's happening but I just couldn't leave you. You had me at first glance, you are a perfect being you know? So fair and graceful, my gosh your indeed a heart stealer. I won't force you into anything but I think it's more professional to be upfront about feelings than to hide them away. The clothing provided should hopefully be in your size maybe- but If not to do worry for I'll change them for you. I really hope you like them.

Your sincerely, Donna Beneviento

You placed the note down and looked towards the clothing. Gently picking them up, you saw it was a white dress with a silver embroidery pattern hand sowed into it. You felt your heart miss a beat. The Lady created something for you. Surely this was kindness right- no you wouldn't question it. It was sweet of her. You started to think that maybe you should apologise to her. After all you did cry and more than likely disturbed her day. Her actions for you showed she wasn't a killer at all like some of the rumour of the Village would say. They sounded made up. A killer wouldn't make clothes for their victims...and the word 'feelings' popped back into your mind. A lady has feelings for you...you. Your heat beat had started again and sped up a lot. This creation of her for you was so generous. Something you hadn't witness a lot growing up.

Gently placing the doll that was on your shoulder onto the bed, you quickly changed into the clothing provided and folded your dirty clothing up to place at the end of the bed you had been staying in. Picking the doll back up, you placed them on your shoulder and walked back to the door to open it and then step outside of it. The place was rather big, quiet a few hallways from what you could see. "Hey buddy," You spoke to the doll on your shoulder. "Where is the Lady, I would like to apologise for my actions." You watched as the doll looked around first before pointing down the hallway. You followed where the doll pointed and soon ended up in a room where a desk sat at one far corner and a green leather sofa had been placed facing what seemed to be a projection. Sat on the sofa was the Lady, it seemed she was caught up in her work as she was sewing a patch up on one of the doll's clothing.

You coughed to gain her attention.

She turned and for the first time, you saw her with her veil up. Her face said it all, she stood up quickly accidently throwing the doll in her hand on to the ground and reached the back of her head to pull her veil over. "Please," You pleaded quickly, raising your hand up in a 'stop' emotion. "It's okay, I don't mind ma'am." You said using your manners. She stopped reaching to pull her veil back on and faced to stare at you with a small smile dancing on her lips.

"Are you sure?" She asked, raising her own hand to cover what seemed to be scarring from something. You nodded and folded your hands in front of you. Slowly you bowed, showing respect and spoke softly.

"I apologise for earlier this week, I had no right to be so scared of you. My apologise for my disruption. I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble." As you were still bowing, a hand had grabbed your chin and a pair of lips had met your cheek as your head was risen. You felt you face heat up at the contact, it was such a soothing move and it made you longing for more of her touch.

"There isn't a need to apologise, for I would accept any mood you were in." She said as her voice was so close to your ear. You inhaled her scent, the smell of herbs and a smell of roses were diffused off her clothing. You felt her touch once again, this time she had grabbed your hands gently and held them, rubbing her thumbs on the back of your hands in a calming matter. "Would you like to join me and my friends for lunch?" She asked as she quickly moved her hand once again to brush a stray hair from your face. Without using your words you had nodded to her request, making her smile in delight.

"You're smile is very pretty ma'am." you spoke without thinking, not even realising what you had said. Donna was more than happy to hear you speak, your voice was far prettier than your humming but either way she felt the same feelings as she had before.

"What is the fair ladies name?" She asked you, placing her hands on your hips as you shyly looked down at them resting there.

"My name is (Y/n) Ma'am." You said with formality.

"Such a beautiful name," Donna whispered, going back to touch your hand and raise it to her lips to gently kiss it. You was taken back at the sudden action once again, however you did not refuse it.

Again you wanted her to to hold you, just like she wanted to have you.

#donna beneviento #residentevil #residentevil8 #resident evil donna #angie the doll #donna x reader #female reader #writing #lady beneviento #lady donna beneviento #angie beneviento #house beneviento

125 notes · View notes

dreamiesdotcom · 4 years

Text

february spring | h.rj

genre: hanahaki!au, angst, fluff

trigger warning: character death

summary: You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

word count: 2.7k

The thing about flowers is that they suck.

Today again you wake up coughing petals and blood, feeling like wanting to burn the world and then your damned feelings — but no, you think, you'd rather not have life at all if you're not in love with him. You'd choose him again and again if asked.

That's the stupid thing about it. You're so willing to hurt and to be hurt for love that made flowers grow inside you.

Your mom is crying at the foot of your bed, praying for it all to be gone; the petals, the blood, the disease you have to fight because you fell for the wrong person. Your dad turned around to face the wall, tears in his eyes. He wants you to be better. He needs you to be better, and he needs to be strong so you could fight.

It's useless, anyway.

"This could end in three ways," you remember your doctor saying. "Either he loves you back, you take the surgery, or you die."

And you know what that means? That no amount of strength, of happiness, will keep you alive. It's impossible for him to love you back. You're dying. There's flowers growing inside you and you're dying — dying in the most beautiful way; dying of love.

Of stupid love, but you disregard that.

"Mom," you call. "I don't want the surgery."

"You want to die?" She asks with a laugh, "You want to die for a boy who doesn't even know of your love?"

"Y/N," your dad calls, a warning.

"Please don't make me go through it," you close your eyes. "I don't want to forget him. I don't want to forget love."

Because it's all I have, you wanted to say. Love is the one thing worth having, and you can't imagine yourself after the surgery; you'll get your emotions removed alongside the flowers in both your lungs and heart. You can't imagine that.

It's not even about him anymore. It's—

"Mom, please," you beg, "I don't... I don't want to live in a world where I wouldn't be able to live and love. I don't want to live not loving you and dad."

Because what is a human without love, emotions? An empty vessel. A withering rose. Something to stare at emptily as slowly, they begin to die.

Tears well in your mother's eyes, shaking her head, repeating the same words again and again — "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him" — but you made up your mind. You're dying, but before that you're gonna live —

you're gonna live, and this time not for him anymore; for yourself. For yourself too.

Even though life with this disease is limited to this hospital, the window and the rooftop, it is life still — this sickness made you cherish all the little things you'll lose when your body loses warmth. On some days you play with the kids, young hearts running around not really understanding their situations.

You put a smile on your face after everytime you throw up — you hide away somewhere no one would see, you hide yourself. You want to live. If you want to live, there's no need to be pitied.

At night, before you need to go to your room, you go to the rooftop and meet with a friend; Huang Renjun, same case. His heart longs for the stars, the moon, and a boy who is and will always be happier with someone else.

Tonight again, you stargaze.

"Imagine what we'll be if we weren't like this," he wonders out loud, "You'd still be annoying."

You kick his foot lightly, making him laugh, "See? You're sick and annoying. If you weren't sick, you'd be even more annoying!"

You turn to face him, and a fond smile is on his face, "You'd be beautiful still, even more without the tiredness in your eyes."

"And you'd still be handsome, Renjun," you find yourself saying, "You'd still love books and poetry, and stars..."

"But your smile wouldn't be so sad," he continues, pointing to Sirius, tracing the entire constellation as if the stars are right before his fingertips. "Your smile would be open and honest, not just something to comfort me."

You smile wistfully. He rolls around to pin you down, his hands on your wrists, a smile of his own on his face. It's something silly, kind of cheeky — typical Renjun.

"You're my only friend, Y/N," he confesses. "And I hate him. I hate the boy who made you sick."

Tears start to fall from his eyes, leaving him shaking. His arms still pin you to the ground, his tears falling on your face. He sobs. He sobs and sobs and my god, he still looks beautiful — Sirius rests on the space where his neck and shoulders meet. Galaxies are in his eyes.

He looked beautiful, so beautiful that you didn't have the heart to tell him that it's him. There's no other boy but him.

###

I wonder when he'll notice...

February cold engulfs you in its hold, making you shiver. Renjun walks beside you. It's a silent trip to the rooftop, snow falling in beautiful flakes. He takes notice in your silence.

I wonder when he'll ask if I love him...

"Are you okay?" Renjun asks, shoulder brushing against yours.

You smile at him, "I'm fine. I'm just a little cold."

Time is running out...

"Renjun," you call out his name, "Do you think you could ever fall in love with me?"

He looks at you as if you said something absurd. He laughed, he laughed until he coughed blood and petals — you stop in panic, rubbing his back.

"I think the cold is doing us no good," you say. "Let's head inside."

Was it really that impossible for you to fall in love with me?

"No, no, I'm fine." He wipes the blood off his lips, "See?"

Scary as it seems, the petals have become usual visitors for patient with Hanahaki. It doesn't even bother Renjun anymore at this point.

He'll have the surgery and get better — just a little more, he said, let me feel this love for a little more, because after the surgery I know I never will love again.

The petals don't shake him anymore. There's a cure, after all. A cure you keep denying yourself.

"Alright, let's go."

You resume walking, looking straight ahead. The sun is setting as a white sunset.

You wonder what he'll do when he realizes you no longer cough petals, but flowers in full bloom — that inside you is a full blown spring, within a body that exists in winter.

###

"Happy Birthday to you~ happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, happy birthday..."

You look at Renjun's room, meeting gazes with Lee Jeno. You smile and look away.

Renjun has told you the story of three best friends.

Jaemin and Jeno are his regular visitors. Whenever they come, there's a spark in Renjun's eyes — the glint of sadness, the look of yearning for love like theirs. You know. You pass by his door everytime.

You know, too, that he's still in love with Na Jaemin.

Whenever they come by, they bring him flowers — you laugh, because Renjun has enough of those blooming inside him. They bring him food to eat, bring him gifts, but there's no love for him in that space. Jaemin and Jeno's love are solely for each other, and Renjun wants that selfishness too; he wants Jaemin's love all to himself. It's what planted those seeds.

Whenever they come, Renjun wallows in envy and self pity and sadness, sadness because it breaks his heart that seeing them both so happy hurts him. Whenever they come, you battle yourself to not yell at them and make them leave and tell them they're not of any help, not helping him feel better — Renjun's life is just as limited as yours. He has counted seconds and all they do is make him realize what a fool he was to fall for someone he'll never have.

Whenever they leave, they leave a hole in his heart — it only grows bigger and bigger with every visit, with every goodbye. Renjun must be a fool.

But he'll have it, the surgery. He wants to live that much, that even though it will be impossible for him to feel love, he'll still search for happiness.

And that's how you know it.

You're dying.

In silence, you break down and whisper your greetings: Happy birthday, Renjun.

###

Renjun sits across you, holding the flowers Na Jaemin has given him. He plucks them once — he loves me. The sun is hidden away by the clouds, and his gaze that once were on you flutters across the room, back to where Jaemin stands. He plucks another petal — he loves me not.

Jaemin looks back to your direction, and waves. You're sure it made Renjun's heart flutter.

"You're the infamous Y/N," Jaemin grins. "I hope we can be good friends."

"Before I die, that is," you joke, earning a smack from Renjun. The stem of the flower hits the back of your head.

He loves me.

"Jaemin, where's Jeno?" Renjun asks, curious. There's no sight of honey haired boy and it's a strange sight, but you know deep inside he is pleased.

He loves me not.

"He's busy today."

"As he is every day?"

"C'mon, Renjun," Jaemin laughs. "It's not like he never gives me time."

Renjun shakes his head anyway. He releases a big sigh, calming himself down — deep inside he knows he can love Jaemin better. A pained look flashes in your eyes.

Renjun taps your thigh in concern.

He loves me.

"I need to go, 'jun," Jaemin says, taking his belongings with him. He runs straight to the door, but before that he turns around and waves.

When Jaemin leaves the room, Renjun looks like he just fell in love. Again.

A bitter smile draws on your face.

He loves me not.

###

The day of Renjun's surgery came quicker than expected. The explanation was simple; he can never feel love again, but he will survive. He will be alive and that's what matters.

It's a sad thought, living without love. But Renjun would rather not love than not live at all.

"It's tomorrow," he said. "You should take care."

You don't meet his gaze.

"I'm tired, Renjun," you whisper, clutching his shirt to pull him impossibly closer.

A smile draws on his face, a beautiful sight to look at.

He asks, "Tired of what?"

And you've been tired of a lot of things. You tried not being so, but you can't help but fail miserably — lately everything's just been too much. Most of them, though; thoughts like this, like the truth that spills from your mouth.

"Of the flowers growing inside me," you say wistfully, "I'm tired of it and I hate it. I hate it so much."

"Y/N..."

"And I'm tired of you too, of you looking at me with those eyes," you turn to face Renjun who sits with his head hung low. You let a chuckle escape your lips, "Those eyes that look at me as if you could love me had you not met Jaemin."

Renjun couldn't say a word.

You feel yourself withering away as more flowers bloom inside you.

###

Renjun left right after he recovered from the surgery, the nurses said. You stay in your bed all those time, not bidding him goodbye at all. You throw up more flowers than usual, more blood.

All the promises you made about living life before you die is gone. All you can think about is how difficult it is to breathe, how hard it is to live.

"Mom," you call, hoping for ease, "I want to give up."

But she smiles with tears in her eyes, she smiles. You see, she had the most beautiful smile in the world. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears and her lips stretched in a pitiful expression, "No, darling," she begs. "Stay awake. Stay awake for me."

You smile back.

"It hurts to breathe."

"It will be okay," at least she prays. "It's gonna be okay. Go through with the surgery."

You shake your head, declining still. Time is running out. Your father hugs you tight, the first time in years, a kiss pressed on your temple. Your mother holds your hand.

I don't want to, you repeat again and again.

Your father holds your hand — "We'll do what you want."

And there's a protest at the tip of your mother's tongue, but it melts away at the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

"Okay, sweetie," she says. "We'll do what you want."

Your doctor comes in a hurry minutes after. He's panting, a red flush on his face — he seems mad. "How long has it been?"

"Doctor..."

"You didn't tell us you were coughing out whole flowers."

Your mother's cries start to get louder. Full flowers meant the last stage: the closest to death. At this point it's a game between life and death and the dangers in between. You smile.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "But I'm not going through the surgery, doctor."

They look at you with eyes of pity, saddened that it has come to this. Your doctor nods. Your mother shakes in your father's hold. You laugh, "Why are you all crying?"

"Stupid child," your mother says. "Stupid Y/N."

You laugh harder, tears falling from your eyes. "I love you, mom," you say. "Can you hold my hand tighter? I'm scared."

From outside your door, Renjun clamps his hand over his mouth; he feels like throwing up. He originally planned to say one last goodbye, but instead, he gets this... this. Whatever the hell this mess is.

You're dying, all because you're in love with him.

All because he couldn't love you back.

###

The time comes quicker than expected.

You look at your body, watching from your soul — this must be what it is like to be have your soul wandering. You breathe in sharply, breathe out. You look at all the tubes connected to your body.

You go through the wall, moving to hug your parents. Your mother must've felt you, for her sobs grew louder and she called your name.

Suddenly, someone storms in.

"Doctor, it seems like you have an emergency patient," the nurse intervenes.

"Who's the patient?"

"Huang Renjun."

Your feel your heart drop — who knew you could still feel such things? But Renjun, didn't he...

"Renjun? Didn't he have a successful surgery?"

"Yes," the nurse looks down in shame, "But it seems there's remains of flowers in his lungs. He's now coughing out flowers in full-bloom."

The doctor rushes out of the room, saying excuses to your parents. You watch your own body breathe its last breath.

The nurse looks down, "Y/L/N Y/N, time of death, 10:48 a.m."

You wander around the hospital, going to where your feet take you. You soon find yourself in the emergency room, watching Renjun almost pass out from coughing flowers.

"Renjun," you call — the ghost of you, your soul. The one Renjun sees.

He looks in panic, knowing why he's seeing you; he's ready to die. What he's not ready for is to see you as a soul, dead and eternally young.

He blinks once, twice, hoping you don't disappear. It's not all truthful words, but he says it — "I love you."

Outside the room, Renjun's parents wonder to themselves — who is he talking to? What is he mumbling? His parents can't help but cry, worried at every flutter of his eyes.

"They say... when people are almost dying, their closest family visit them to take them to paradise." Jaemin says with a bitter smile, "I heard... Y/N passed. He might be seeing her."

A slap sounds in the room.

"My son is not dying!" Renjun's mother says. Jaemin nods, tears falling from his eyes.

"Are you scared?" you ask, head tilted, hands brushing strands of his hair away from his face.

"Yes," Renjun confesses.

"I'll hold your hand."

"Until it's over?"

You smile, "You're one of my greatest friend, after all."

Renjun never expected to die. Then, at the same time, he never expected the tiny sliver of love he feels for you — love for a friend, for a dear one. Renjun found a real best friend within you.

So, he holds your hands and comes with you.

"Doctor? Doctor, what's happening— my son!" His mother calls as he watches his eyelids close, "Renjun... My little boy..."

One last smile, one last cough of his favorite flower — Renjun is at peace. He closes his eyes and remains his age forever.

"Huang Renjun, time of death, 10:52 a.m."

#nct dream #nct dream one shot #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream blurbs #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenario #renjun #renjun oneshot #renjun drabbles #renjun blurbs #renjun imagines #renjun x reader #hanahaki au #nct dream hanahaki au

179 notes · View notes