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delcakoo · 1 year

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camellia²⋆.⚘࿔ y.jw

part one

SUMMARY ! only days after the heart-racing encounter in jungwon’s garden, you’re stunned to say the least when you find said prince right outside your window in an ‘undercover disguise’ no less. what are you to do when he offers his hand and promise of an adventurous first date throughout town? keeping an eye on a clueless yet flirty prince couldn’t be too disastrous.. right?

PAIRING ! prince!jungwon x gardener!f!reader

WC ! 5.5k

GENRE ! fluff, crack, adventure!

WARNINGS ! flirty jungwon. being chased by someone with a knife (it’ll make sense i swear)

a/n: finally the long awaited part 2 is here for valentines and won’s (late) bday gift T-T i wouldn’t say u have to read part 1 to understand, but i recommend it for sure! i hope it’s worth the wait, please enjoy and lmk what u think <3

while your cottage may not be much to look at from first glance, you personally found it to be just as exquisite as any crystal mansion or skyscraping palace.

ever since you’d moved away to the capital to further pursue your career in gardening, the little wooden house smack in the middle of town had quickly become your safe haven.

of course, you being you, went ahead to make sure anyone who glanced inside for even a split second would know it belonged to someone who had a passion for nature; sleek vines overgrowing the walls and ceilings, arrangements of potted plants scattered throughout every room and hall, along with an abundance of miniature scented candles and woodland critter figurines placed carefully to enhance the forest environment.

yes, most of your neighbours (that you’d regrettably not even bothered to say hi to yet) probably thought a crazy old witch must be inhabiting such a strangely furnished building, but you weren’t too bothered when everyday you got the chance to wake up surrounded by earth’s most beautiful creations, similarly to today; where everything was going just as it normally would.

you’d calmly risen at almost precisely eight o’clock, eagerly yanking away your curtains to absorb a deep inhale of the sunshine outside. while examining the view, you could make out the breathtaking sight of the yang’s castle in the far distance. it looked magnificent as always, the flag of the capital waving proudly on one of its pillars.

though now, you recognised it as not just the place where you worked; but also jungwon’s home — prince jungwon’s, you realise with an uncomfortable frown. you push away from the window, pacing over to your closet with newfound thoughts of the handsome boy flooding through your brain.

his stupidly attractive appearance even in nothing but silk pyjamas, the mischievous gaze he pierced you with as you sat atop his lap, how his fingers brushed your hips ever so gently and the way you could practically feel the softness of his pink lips up against—

no. you strictly pause, pulling out a pair of overalls. the maid was right to be disgusted, you remind yourself. i’m there to do my job and plant flowers, not to become involved with someone who shouldn’t even be sparing me a glance, you think with gritted teeth, trying to reassure yourself that you didn’t care despite the mere thought of never speaking to the prince again sending a horrible feeling to the pit of your stomach.

with a sigh, you only get your pyjama top halfway off your body when the sound of a surprised yelp coming from outside meets your ears. when you snap your head over to the glass and see nothing but your neighbours house as usual, your brows furrow suspiciously, ever so slowly pulling your shirt back on.

just as you were about to give up and continue changing, the very top of a straw hat pokes up from the bottom of your window.

your eyes widen, watching the figure stay completely still in their pathetic hiding spot. your mind flashes back to jungwon in the garden, feeling deja vu all over again as you creep up to the window. was someone.. spying on you of all people?

“peeping-fucking-tom,” you whisper in rage, cracking your knuckles furiously.

once you reach the glass, you look down to take in the stranger, tilting your head dubiously at the sight of their hands covering their entire face and ears a bright red, almost as if they were.. flustered by something.

reasoning didn’t matter; all you wanted was to give the creep a fistful in their disgusting face, thoughts on display as you shove your window open and harshly rip the hat off the stranger’s head. “you spied on the wrong girl you piece of—“

your jaw drops, touches the ground even.

there he was in all his glory, yang jungwon staring up at you with his big beautiful eyes outside your window of your house with cheeks blushing a hot pink. you don’t even fully register the bizarre farmer’s clothes he’s dressed in, simply blinking down at him in utter horror.

“jungw—“ you choke, “your-your highness? what in god’s name are you doing here!?”

the prince swallows nervously, rising from the ground and taking his hat back from your grip, “keep it down,” he whispers, scanning his surroundings anxiously, “can i just come in?”

“what—“ you facepalm, moving from the window to make room for him anyway, “you know i have a door right?”

jungwon chuckles as he carefully steps inside your bedroom, brown boots meeting the hardwood floor abruptly. “you’re getting quite bold speaking to your prince like that, flower.”

you try your best to ignore the words ‘your prince’, crossing your arms stubbornly. “i suppose i have the right to when said prince was watching me change like a pervert,” you remind with a raised brow.

his smile drops, a bright shade of red immediately returning to his entire face. “i’m sorry, i didn’t see anything— i didn’t mean to, i swear! i-i was just trying to surprise you!” secretly, you’re quite amused by the situation, unbeknownst to the fact that you were the first girl to ever make yang jungwon blush in such a way.

you sigh, ushering him into your kitchen despite still being in your completely- unprepared-for-guests-attire. “well, you definitely surprised me.” on the journey through your cottage, jungwon takes his time studying every piece of decoration and trinket in fascination. it was rather adorable watching him poke every vine and lead curiously like a toddler.

“smells like a jungle in here,” he notes, fingertips pulling down a vine carefully as you walk by it.

you snort, gesturing for him to take a seat at your kitchen table. “mhm, welcome to the house of a crazy plant girl.” you couldn’t imagine how weird it must feel for the prince being in such a cramped, square room, contrary to the high ceiling dining halls the size of football fields back at his own home.

not that he commented anything on it though, almost as if he was thoroughly enjoying the new atmosphere surrounding him.

you move to turn on your kettle, grabbing two mugs and teabags along the way. out of the corner of your eye you make out the prince watching you ever so closely, a ridiculous straw hat still covering the top of his head. “so, with all due respect your majesty.. are you going to explain why you’re here? and the outfit?”

it’s almost like jungwon had forgotten himself; head whipping down to take in his rather suspicious plaid red shirt and overalls. “oh,” he says dumbly. “well you see.. my parents weren’t exactly pleased with my late night escapades, so now i’m under house— ur, uh— castle arrest.” you raise a brow as you begin pouring the boiling water. “which is why i’m in my top secret farmer disguise!” the boy announces as if it was something to be excited about.

great. not only are you stuck with a stupidly attractive prince in your home, but one that is grounded, similarly to a small child.

you sigh, placing the steaming tea in front of him. “and why have you decided to bring this trouble to me yet again?” you ask for a second time.

“because, flower,” jungwon kicks his feet eagerly under your table, eyes turning into crescents as he smiles brightly, “i have so much planned for our date today!”

you freeze, nearly knocking over your drink, “our— pardon?!”

gardenias represent joyous surprises. you know this not just because of your gardening past, but also because they were the key part in your father’s favourite story to tell — the one where your mother found out she’d be having you and gave him a bouquet of gardenias with a letter containing the wonderful news.

you weren’t too shocked hearing your mother’s choice of reveal considering your parents were also gardeners, but now, with the prince calling you ‘flower’ as well, it felt strange and a tad bit nostalgic; almost as if he’d brought a piece from your home back to you.

in his head, it remained nothing but a silly nickname, but you decided that that was okay for now.

speaking of joyous surprises, yang jungwon seemed to love giving you more of them; even in the comical form of a wooden wheelbarrow full of new gardening tools as promised, right outside your cottage.

after forcing you to get ready for the ‘date’, jungwon had brought you to the front of your house to show you his mountain of gifts, and you’d almost fainted at the sight. when you tried to decline his generous offer, the calm boy insisted that the tools he’d bought for you cost no more than a rusty penny in his back pocket for him.

“now let’s get going! i’ve never taken someone on a date before..” he ponders curiously, “but.. i figure that first we get some lunch!” he decides, giddily taking your hand in his.

at first you could barely take him seriously with such bizarre attire, but butterflies still manage to rush through you at the contact of his fingers laced through yours. you raise a curious brow, “your highness, how do you know where anything is here in the town?”

“oh, i don’t,” he admits with a grin. “but that’s what makes it fun!” you sigh, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel excited.

you’ve always been very strict and organised; never forgetting to update your schedule and plan out times and dates for everything. but in contrast, jungwon had clearly never experienced anything even close to responsibility in his life. he was bouncy, carefree, and probably clueless to all the bad things down in your town — but that’s also the reason he felt perfect for you; like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a muggy room all day.

it was a strange dynamic, yet you couldn’t help but give in to his impulsiveness each and every time with an excited, joyful change in your heart.

“hey, you two youngsters! yeah you!” an old man in a straw hat suddenly calls, but you immediately knew better; he was only trying to scam your money straight out of your pocket, similarly to most people in the town’s marketplace.

of course, the prince doesn’t know that.

“jung—“

before you could stop him, jungwon had eagerly pranced up to the man’s jewellery stand with a relaxed smile. all sorts of trinkets and variations of shining accessories hung on a wooden wall display, each attiring unique colours and gems.

“hello! these all look extremely beautiful, sir,” he compliments brightly.

the man seems equally thrilled, massaging his white beard habitually. “why, thank you, young man. they’re all made of completely authentic gems and rare crystals.” he suddenly lifts up a blue necklace, pushing it closer to the two of you. with closer examination, you quickly notice how fake and bland the ‘crystals’ look, despite the high price and rich description. “i’m sure this one would look splendid on your girlfriend.”

you aren’t sure whether your or jungwon’s eyes widened more, but it was clearly for different reasons as the boy digs into his pocket, pulling out a handful of gold coins and smacking them onto the table.

you gasp. “jungwon no-“

“then of course i’ll take it!”

“wonderful!” he beams. before any second thoughts could be processed, the man swiped the coins into a small box, smiling with a hint of malice as jungwon happily took the necklace while bowing in thanks. “are you interested in anything else? i also think these earrings—“

“no,” you harshly cut in, grabbing jungwon’s hand and stomping off like a mad woman.

he shoves the necklace into his overalls with his free hand, looking down at you worriedly. “my flower, is everything okay?”

you nearly melt into a puddle at the prince’s pure tone, and it only increases your anger at how others took advantage of his sweetness.

“i’m fine,” you huff, eyes still scanning the marketplace for any other threats. “but your majesty, you need—“

“jungwon,” he corrects.

you pause, looking up at him cluelessly. “what?”

jungwon meets your gaze from under his hat, sparkling with eased confidence. “you’ve already called me by my name twice today, and both times it sounded so much prettier from your lips.” all frustration practically vanishes from your body; much too busy gaping like a fish and blushing further as a satisfied smirk reaches the boy’s lips. he keeps walking as if nothing happened, urging you to follow. “what? it’s only the truth.”

after a couple minutes of trying to recover by dragging jungwon through more traders trying to offer deals (scams), a few creepy ladies insisting on reading your future, and one old man offering to perform a song on his bongo drums for the mere price of two gold pieces (jungwon absolutely refused to let that offer go, which led to a wasted ten minutes of sitting on the dirt in agony while the boy clapped along to the man’s song), you’d finally reached a small restaurant that you both deemed safe to dine in.

as you both walk in, you hold the prince’s hand tighter while of course still studying your surroundings for danger. luckily, jungwon doesn’t seem to notice your stressed state, or else he’d definitely scold you for not relaxing and enjoying his date to the fullest.

the young woman at the front desk smiles robotically with a bow, silver name tag reading ‘yeji’ against her suit pocket. “welcome! table for two?”

“yes, please.” you notice how her eyes narrow in on jungwon with an unreadable gaze, and you barely hold in the urge to walk right back out at the uneasy feeling it brings you. the prince in question is off in his own world as usual though; taking in the appearance of his first ever restaurant with shimmering pupils.

“right this way. you may take off your hat by the way, sir,” she furtively adds in.

jungwon’s eyes widen. “oh, i guess i could-“

before his fingers could even graze the straw material, you’d already swivelled on your heel, ripping his hand back down to his side. “he’s fine, thanks,” you grit out, trying to ignore how the woman smirks mysteriously as you take a seat across from each other.

the second she leaves, you send your date a harsh glare. “jungwon, you know you can’t take that hat off! you almost revealed your identity to the whole town,” you whisper-yell.

he pouts. “i’m sorry! i just.. i felt so.. normal these past hours,” he admits, and your eyes instantly soften.

“what do you mean?”

for perhaps the first time since you’d met him, you catch a glimpse of insecurity in jungwon’s expression as he looks off to the side. “well it’s just.. i’ve never been to a restaurant or a marketplace like everyone else. and this is kinda embarrassing to admit.. but despite being a prince or whatever, i barely have any friends,” he confesses. “i’m always locked up in that castle like a prisoner and it’s so unfair that i’ve been missing out on all the fun stuff down here!”

you feel your chest ache as you reach over the table to grab the prince’s hand, rubbing his knuckles sympathetically. “i understand that. there must be some fun things to do up there though, right?”

jungwon pauses to think, cat like eyes staring down at your intertwined hands softly. “yeah.. i like when our chef makes me mystery drinks and i have to guess what’s in it. and a lot of the times we have this princess over ‘cause my mom likes her family, and she keeps me company i guess.”

a princess..?

your expression nearly falters, jealousy and insecurity of your own brewing its way to your stomach which surprises even yourself. you’re never usually one to be envious of anyone or anything — but you realise quickly that this is the effect your prince has on you.

“i- that.. that’s good!” you try your best to sound cheerful, but he clearly sees through it by the giggle that leaves his lips.

“aww, is my pretty girl jealous?” his words have a blush rising to your cheeks, and it only deepens as jungwon lowers his plush lips to your hand, pressing a kiss against the skin with squinted cat eyes and a teasing smirk. “there’s no need for that.”

his duality never failed to bring you whiplash. “i—“

“here you go!” you flinch slightly when the waitress from before seemingly poofs out of thin air and offers a glass of ice water to both of you, her chestnut bangs hiding her piercing, fox-like stare.

you both give her thanks just as she clears her throat, eyes narrowing down on jungwon once again. “pardon of me to be asking, but what farm do you work on, sir? i swear i recognise you from somewhere,” yeji questions dubiously. the woman seems innocent to the eye, but every minute you endure with her, the more wary you begin to feel.

jungwon looks at you for help, which you quickly offer. “just.. just the one down the path and to the right,” you spit mindlessly, “we’re coworkers and— and we..“

“—on lunch break!” jungwon blurts. “we’re on.. yeah, uh—“

“yeah, lunch break,” you finish with the brightest, most convincing smile musterable.

she blinks, “i see. well then, i’ll be back to take your orders in just a moment.”

as the waitress departs back around the corner, you release a ginormous breath you didn’t even know you were holding. jungwon swallows with equal signs of relief, biting his lip apprehensively.

“flower.. i don’t know why, but i’m starting to feel kinda uneasy being in here,” he mutters, barely above a whisper. just as he speaks, you watch closely as yeji arrives at a table to cater two middle-aged men, both smoking and playing some kind of gambling game judging by the piles of poker chips scattered around them. she bends down and pushes her silky hair back, whispering something into the taller man’s ear skeptically.

then, both men eerily turn and stare straight at you.

“jungwon, look at me,” you immediately snap, doing your best to remain completely normal looking despite now the frantic beating of your heart. for once, the prince doesn’t look at ease nor relaxed like he usually would in bad situations; even jungwon was scared, you note in horror. “they might be onto us, we need to get out of here now.”

he swallows, taking quick, frightened breaths. “but how?”

“just— are you good at running?”

“uh.. i guess so,” the boy ponders. “i play soccer in the garden sometimes.”

if it were any other situation, you’d definitely be freaking out at the thought of jungwon recklessly kicking a ball around your lovely second home. “okay, on the count of three, we’re booking it.”

with a timid nod, jungwon reaches over the counter to hold your hand again.

you take a deep breath, glancing at the two men who are back to gambling and yeji who's busy with another table. “3.. 2..” jungwon sits up in preparation, adjusting his hat and overalls promptly. “1.. go!” you say it all in a loud whisper, heartbeat practically in your throat as you both catapult from your booth and race towards the exit with overflowing adrenaline.

perhaps it was a ruthless plan, but what else could you do in such a short time?

jungwon is surprisingly fast, easily keeping up with your pace as you yank open the restaurant door. in the background, your stomach drops as yeji hollers something about ‘the prince escaping’ before two pairs of heavy boots immediately begin stomping behind you.

“shit, they’re coming!” you hiss in despair. was this how jungwon felt when you chased him down in the garden? because now you understand how horrific it feels to be the one getting hunted; breath hitching, fingers trembling, heart continuously accelerating while you desperately search for any kind of distraction or escape route.

blindly, you turn right and head down the alleyway next to the restaurant while jungwon looks back to see the men asking a passerby where you’d run off to. they turn to your direction moments later, one pulling out a pocket knife while charging into a sprint.

“y/n, they have a knife!” he alerts from behind.

well, fuck.

you knew they wouldn’t hurt jungwon (unless they wanted to get executed in front of the whole town by his parents), but you were an easy target; all they’d have to say is that you were the one keeping the poor prince in captivity all along, and your death would be something worth earning a reward for.

up ahead was another problem. a decently tall, chain linked fence blocked off the rest of the alleyway along with a large green garbage box next to it. you glance at jungwon and he hastily nods in return, clearly having the same idea as you.

once you reach the garbage box, you swing your body onto it before pursuing your climb up the fence. just as you pull yourself over the top and to the other side, a strangled yelp is heard behind you.

you look down in alarm to see jungwon, half way up the fence, with one of the men holding his ankle in a fight to pull him back down. the bigger man with the knife was steadily getting closer, encouraging you to reach down and grab the prince’s hand and pull him up yourself.

“hurry the hell up!” the man furiously calls to his slower partner. it was a game of tug of war with jungwon in the middle, and you suspect that the only reason you’re winning is because of how hard the boy shakes his ankle in an attempt to kick the man in the face.

taking a deep breath, you furrow your brows and pull as hard as your body allows you to from the top of a decently high fence. it’s just like pulling out a plant from the soil, you’ve done it a billion times before, y/n.

at that moment, jungwon whimpers in pain at the man’s brutal clasp on his ankle combined with the strain in his arm that you’re tugging relentlessly. it’s almost a cue that sets you off; the sound of the poor prince you care so deeply for being hurt sending strength and anger through your veins, enough to emit another harsh yank and scream from your body.

finally, the man loses his grip. “c’mon, c’mon!” you shriek, helping jungwon as he scrambles up the fence and parkours over just as the man jumps in an attempt to catch him. you both carefully leap to the ground and dash off once more, even if your body felt like collapsing at any moment.

in the distance, a large forest grew the faster you ran towards it. though he’s out of breath, jungwon speaks up hastily at the sight. “flower, i know the perfect place to rest.”

the sound of rushing, powerful water was getting louder the deeper you followed jungwon off the main path and into the woods. why you were trusting him at this point of your date? you had no idea, but you blame the beautiful assortments of plants and wildlife surrounding you for being such a nice distraction.

at last, jungwon stops at two specifically large, graceful trees that leave no space to see in between, as if they were the hidden entrance to some kind of mythical fairy world. “here we are,” he declares while smiling down at you. you watch in awe as he finally pulls off his straw hat, taking in the fluffy black hair you continuously felt the urge to run your nails through.

with a deep breath, jungwon pulls the two trees apart and allows you to duck under his arm. when you look back up, your heart nearly stops.

it has to be the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

seemingly straight out of narnia or neverland, a grassy flatland of blooming flowers revelled below droopy vines falling from ginormous trees. some plants held little berries or blossoms upon their leaves, and it was probably why so many bunnies and other critters inhabited burrows close by. and of course, the most brilliant part of it all was the crashing waterfall that bubbled white at the bottom, embellished with lily pads that occasionally held pink lotuses on top.

you couldn’t understand how it wasn’t a tourist spot, but you supposed how difficult it is to find was a factor, and that anyone who managed to do so would prefer to keep it as their personal secret.

a bigger hand confidently grabbing onto yours brings you out of your daydream. “you.. you do like it, right?” the raven haired boy asks incredulously.

“like it? won, this is.. amazing! i’m speechless,” you ramble, speed-walking over to a bush of small red flowers obliviously while jungwon grins at his new nickname. “just look at these naturally growing cardinals! and.. and the water lilies!”

the prince almost forgot he was out with a gardener. he giggles in adoration as you continue dragging him around the small fairyland, big eyes examining each plant thoughtfully. it was even more adorable how every time, you’d tell him a bit about the flower and ask what he thought about it.

“—and this one’s a blue flag water iris! do you like it?” you beam.

jungwon has never seen you act so childish and free before, and it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. “yeah, this one’s really pretty,” he agrees. “do you.. have a favourite flower?”

it wasn’t because he had plans to make you a humongous bouquet in the future, of course not.

you look up from your bent over position to gasp. “obviously not, that’d be like having a favourite child!”

he smirks, maintaining eye contact as you rise to your full height. “fair enough. still, it’s amazing how you just.. look at them and know what kind of plant it is.”

“that’s what happens when you have gardening parents i suppose,” you shrug.

as jungwon takes in the new information about your family with excited eyes, you both take a seat on the grassy terrain by the waterfall. it soons changes to lying down on your sides, facing each other with soft laughter as you tell him funny gardening stories you’d experienced with your dad.

suddenly, he gasps comically. “i almost forgot!” while still lying down, the male digs into his overalls pocket, pulling out the cheap blue necklace from the marketplace with a proud expression. he gestures for you to sit up with him. “turn around pretty, i’ll put it on for you.”

you weigh the pros and cons of telling jungwon the necklace was fake, coming to the eventual conclusion that he probably wouldn’t care either way. if he could fall for you over a rich princess, things like status and one’s money clearly had no detrimental effect on him.

with your front now turned to the waterfall, the prince ever so gently reaches around your neck and locks the blue necklace in place. you mindlessly turn back around, gasping when you find his handsome face despicably close to yours.

his bangs blew left and right ever so slightly with the breeze of the waterfall, brown cat-like eyes peering down at you with nothing but love. you swallow when you glance down and see how he hesitantly licks his lips, at last reaching up to cup the soft apple of your cheek.

there was only one other incident where you’d been so close to each other. “the last time we were in this position..” you don’t even have to finish your sentence before jungwon bursts into laughter with you quickly following, reminiscing on how rudely he had pranked you.

“i said i was sorry, okay!” he defends. “you were just so cute on my lap, you were so.. so sure i was gonna..” he cuts himself off by erupting in giggles again, making you pout in disapproval of the moment being ruined so soon.

you can’t just sit around and let history repeat itself, can you?

before your confidence fades away, you pounce on the laughing boy, pressing him to the ground and lowering down to smash your lips on his. jungwon’s eyes widen and he grunts in shock, hastily recovering as he begins gently kissing you back and lifting his hands to your waist.

his lips feel unexplainably addicting, plush and pink as they mesh with yours, breathing in sync as you bring a hand to finally tangle your fingers through the shining roots of his hair.

suddenly, you’re being flipped over to the grass with such benignity yet strength altogether. jungwon hovers over you with a pleased smile at his new power, mischievously staring at you below him with palms near your head.

just when you raise a brow and start to question his motives, he’s pecking your lips quickly to shut you up. “flower?” he calls out, barely above a whisper.

the whole time his smile never falters, and it makes a grin of your own blossom across your face. “yes, my prince?”

his head tilts to the side. “i really like you.”

your chest pangs with happiness, and you feel the pounding urge to just sit up and pull him into a carefree embrace at the confession. there was a hint of stress still resting in the back of your mind, but you make sure to not think about the troublesome things; what this meant for the future, or what other people would say if they found out. instead, you reciprocate his words with equal amounts of affection and honesty.

“i really like you too, won.”

jungwon exhales in relief, flopping back down on the grass next to you. “it was this amazing date that convinced you to give me a chance, right?” he wiggles his brows sarcastically, earning a snort in response.

“yeah, right,” you mock. “getting chased down and having to help your slow ass over that fence really sealed the deal for me.”

the prince gasps, turning to send you a glare as your chest begins shaking with teasing laughter. “hey! that was your plan to run out of there. maybe if we stayed quiet instead of stampeding through the whole restaurant they wouldn’t have noticed!” he banters sassily.

instead of firing a retort back like you’d plan to, you pause, smile dropping. “speaking of those guys.. won’t they like- tell your parents or something?”

of course, jungwon only simpers cockily, unaffected by your worries as usual. “pretty, did you forget your boyfriend’s a prince? nothing a little money in return for silence can’t solve.” you don’t know which part of his sentence stuns you more, in fact, him using the term ‘your boyfriend’ felt a bit too good to be true — not that you were going to question it. he only snickers at your silence, reaching over to rub your cheek with his thumb in adoration. “i should start a tally on how many times i can make you speechless in a day. you make it much too easy for me.”

why did he have to be like this?

you sheepishly look away, facing the sky that turned an elegant orange as your manic day came to an end. “shut- shut up. we should be heading back anyway,” you decide, reluctantly pushing yourself up from the soft terrain. “i have to be up and working in the garden by dawn tomorrow, too.”

“really!?” he beams, “so i can come see you, right?” jungwon follows your lead and stands up, brushing down his sleeves and overalls but never taking his eyes off of you.

“if your parents haven’t killed you by then, sure.”

he scoffs, reaching a hand out to you. “don’t worry, flower, i’ve got it all under control. now c’mon, i already have so many ideas planned for our second date!”

it’s difficult to know if you’re more excited or scared, but you take his hand anyway with not a hint of hesitation. at this moment, you also decide on having a new addition to the palace garden dedicated to jungwon, full of camellias of course.

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating <3

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archivesofthevoid · 8 months

Note

Hiiii!!

Can I get a friends to lovers scenario with some of the Harry Potter boys (particularly George Weasley and Remus Lupin if you do those two characters ❤️❤️)? Any specifics will do, I’m just a sucker for the trope. Please and Thank you!!!

George Weasley - Friends to Lovers Trope HCs

I know you guys are looking for probably actual writing but right now making bulleted headcanons are just so much easier on me and my melting brain, so for now, take this semi detailed scenario hcs about being friends to lovers with George :))

I'm so sorry I'm advance!! these really are just me rambling about how I think it would go,,, I hope y'all enjoy,,

I promise I'll actually write something better for this soon

•So friends to lovers with the one and only George Weasley. Honestly I see this trope as like,,, you're just best friends with him and he's the one to fall first. And believe me, he falls HARD.

•This man doesn't fall easily for people. At least, not like this. Sure he's had a few fling crushes here and there that he might have hyper fixated on a tiny bit just because he craves the attention. HOWEVER - once he realizes he's falling for his best friend? He's a mess.

•One day he was just listening to you talk to him, Fred, Lee and Angelina and all of a sudden when you laughed about something stupid he said? It made him feel different. It pulled at his heartstrings in the most beautiful way that he was almost sure he imagined it because you never stirred up this reaction out of him before?? So he was very confused.

•No doubt he tried to brush it off but as time went on in the span of the 30 minutes you and everyone else was chatting in the Commons, it dawned on him.

•O h. I'm gaining feelings for my best friend.

•Insert him excusing himself to go do… something else. Probably go try to work on WWW inventions or something. He just needed to take a quick breather and distraction. Everyone thought it was normal but Fred could sense something was off with his twin. So he followed after him? He went to their dorm to see George kind of flustered and freaking out and asked what was wrong.

•Naturally, George is great with words /sar so what ended up coming out of his mouth? Complete gibberish. Fred normally could understand his brother's incessant ramblings but not this time.

•"Woah Georgie, slow down. I can't understand you when you're spilling your words all over the floor like this." He normally would have tried to make light of the situation and he still does. Thankfully, George was able to actually get out what he was trying to say.

•"I think - I think I might be falling for them!"

•Que Fred laughing. Also que George punching him in the arm while yelling "BLOODY HELL FRED THIS ISN'T FUNNY!!!"

•Oh but it is. He knew his brother was rather soft when it came to the mushy feelings of romance, but he didn't think he was this bad.

•So naturally Fred has to talk him through processing these feelings (not that he could really handle his own feelings if he ever liked someone like his twin is currently)

•They're both horrible with their feelings. Despite having a big family, I don't think Molly really was there to help them process their own feelings due to having their younger siblings to take care of. And you know Arthur was always working so it was quite literally just the two of them. Not that they don't appreciate their family but c'mon now.

•ANYWAYS I'm getting off track here. George eventually figures out his feelings and yes, its very apparent he feels something for you.

•So he and Fred try to plan accordingly about how to bring it up to you. But you're so… you. George doesn't want to mess whatever you guys have up.

•I will say however that you've noticed him acting a bit different. So the plan the twins had goes out the window once you confront and ask George about his behavior in the next coming weeks.

•He cracks, because he just can't lie to you! Not when you're looking at him like that. So he ends up spilling a confession of which almost gets missed by how hesitant and quiet he gets.

•Thankfully your ears work (unlike mine lmao) and you take his confession in pride. You tell him you appreciate it (which he swears he's about to be rejected just because of those words alone-) but then you tell him that you'd be willing to try. Because recently you had started to see him in a different light.

•He's ecstatic tbh and SO relieved. Like when I tell you he let out the biggest sigh of relief? I MEAN IT.

•This is how your relationship with him starts. Yeah it's a little messy, but not in a bad way! George has next to no idea what he's doing because he REALLY does care for you and he doesn't want to let you down or hurt you.

•Just be patient with him, okay? I promise he makes it all worth it <33

#x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter headcanon #george weasley headcanon #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins headcanons

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avastrasposts · 1 year

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 14

I'm sorry. Please feel free to yell at me.

Warnings Contain spoilers

Word count: 5.7k Chapter 15

You start pulling on your clothes as you come back from the bathroom, Frankie is already wrapped up in the bed sheets, half asleep as he pries open an eye to look at you.

“I was thinking we should maybe not both sleep at the same time,” you say, reaching down for your boots. Frankie loses his sleepy look almost immediately and shoots up in bed, but you’re already holding your palm up to him.

“I’m taking the first watch, Frankie, no arguments. You didn’t sleep last night, I did, albeit behind the couch, but still. You need to sleep because to be frank, we’re gonna need you alert tomorrow more than me.”

“Cariño…” he starts to protest but you physically push him down onto the bed with your hands on his shoulders, and he lets you topple him over.

“Sleep, Frankie, I’m going to be outside the door, you’ll hear me shout if anything happens.”

He looks up at you, trying to find an argument for taking the whole watch himself, but his brain is scrambled by adrenaline and sleep deprivation. The post-orgasm hormones don’t help either.

“Leave the door open, wake me at three,” is all he manages before you kiss his lips and stroke his cheek, you swear he’s already asleep by the time you leave the room.

Staying awake was harder than you thought, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter stops you from dozing off, but you still feel like your jaw is going to pop as you yawn widely. Your gun is on the counter in front of you as you study the ring Frankie slipped onto your finger. The delicate gold band is thin, three simple diamonds set in a row, with room, you notice, for more diamonds along the band. You know Frankie isn’t the kind of guy to spend three months pay on a ring just so that it’s as big as possible, he would pick the ring that meant something to him and make it mean something to you too. You run your fingers over the diamonds, three in a row, you’ll have to ask him tomorrow.

At three am you gently walk into the bedroom to wake Frankie, but he sleeps too lightly, your footsteps wake him up and he shoots up in bed.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, “It’s three am.”

“Ok,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he rubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. You pull off your boots and crawl into bed with your clothes on next to Frankie. He catches your chin between his thumb and fingers, giving you a slow kiss, before letting go.

When you wake up a few hours later daylight is starting to slip through the shutters of the window. Frankie’s hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Hermosa, time to wake up,” he murmurs as he bends and presses his lips to your temple. “The night was quiet and I made coffee.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and push the covers back, sitting up as Frankie hands you a mug.

You drink it while you get ready, which only means you put your boots back on and stick the gun into the back of your trousers. Frankie’s heated up another can of stew from Denny’s supplies and you both eat it in silence. You’re apprehensive about leaving the safety and quiet of the cabin and move back into populated areas, but you can see Frankie’s nerves too. His jaw is clenched as he goes through both your packs, swapping out some of the food for Denny’s supplies. As soon as you put down your spoon into the empty bowl he grabs it from you and starts readying up to leave.

“We should leave a note for Pope or anyone else who comes here,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I did already,” he points to a folded piece of paper on the dining room table, “Read it and tell me if it makes sense.”

You pick it up and flip it open, reading Frankie’s neat handwriting;

September 29th

To anyone of the guys

My girl and I are safe up here for now. We’re heading to L’s place today. Pope was here on the 27th, also went for L but hasn’t returned yet.

We’ll return here when we have L, hope to see you all safe.

Catfish

You fold it up and put it back on the table, “Looks good to me, I really hope they’re all here when we get back,” you say, looking over at Frankie who’s picked up your backpack and walked over to you with it.

“Yeah, I really hope so too,” he replies as he helps you on with the pack, turning you around and adjusting the straps before he pulls your gun from behind your back.

“I made you this while I was keeping watch,” he holds up a makeshift leg holster. “You can’t wear a regular holster with a backpack on and you won’t be able to get the gun from behind the pack, and I don’t want you walking around with the gun in your hand.”

He kneels down and straps it to your thigh, using a snap-link to attach it to your belt. “Denny had a couple of old holsters for his hunting gear so I repurposed them.” He’s got a similar holster on his leg, his gun already in it and now he slides your gun into yours.

“Feel good?” he asks, looking up at you from the floor, tugging on the holster, making sure it’s not too tight.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, Frankie, I’ve never even fired a gun.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to but I can’t show you, I don’t know when we’ll get more bullets,” he gets up and gives your backpack a final look over, “Denny didn’t keep any guns or ammo up here so we’ll have to grab any that we find.”

Once outside the cabin, Frankie locks up and puts the key back into the lock box before turning towards the lake.

“There are a couple of canoes down by the small boat house,” he says, “we can use one of them to get across the lake, saves us walking around it, we’re heading in that direction.”

You nod and follow him down the gentle slope to the lake, the morning is calm and quiet, and again you’re struck by how normal everything feels. If it wasn’t for the slightly heavy feeling in your stomach, a small hot ball of anxiety, you’d think it was just Frankie and you heading out for a couple of days camping.

The trip over the lake is smooth and when you get to the other side, about a mile from the cabin, you get the packs out before Frankie paddles the canoe into some thick, tall reeds to camouflage it as much as possible. Luckily it’s an old wood canoe and it all but disappears into the reeds.

Frankie glances down at his compass, attached to his belt, and motion for you to follow him. You’ve agreed to speak as little as possible and move quietly. There probably won’t be any infected out here but Frankie doesn’t want to take any chances. So in silence you walk behind him for three hours, stopping when he holds up his hand, checking his direction or listening intently. At one point he signals for you to stop and crouch and as you sink down behind a bush, you hear rustling in the shrubs ahead. Your skin goes cold as you mimic Frankie’s movement and pull out your gun, moving it slowly out of your leg holster. The rustling continues, coming closer until, finally, you see the source of the sound, a white tail deer, slowly ambling through the forest, nibbling at leaves here and there as it goes. You let your breath out slowly, as Frankie stands up, startling the deer enough to make it prance away into the underbrush.

At the three hour mark Frankie finds a good spot for a break, a small stream that lets you refill your water bottles. Stretching out your legs on the ground, your back against a large boulder, you try to savor your lunch sandwich. Frankie sinks down next to you and gives you a little nudge with his shoulder.

“How you holding up, cariño?” he asks in a low voice.

“I’m alright, just jumpy,” you reply, leaning your head on his solid shoulder for a little bit. He caresses your cheek with his warm palm and you feel his lips press into the top of your head before he begins to unwrap his sandwich.

After lunch you get even jumpier, you’re still following hiking trails through the forest but every now and then you have to cross main roads, you start seeing houses, you even skirt around a small town. In the distance you see a group of people, you can’t tell if they’re infected or not, but as Frankie leads the two of you in a wide circle around the group, you keep watching them. They don’t move and you think they’re too unnaturally still for humans.

Just as you’ve managed to clear a small ridge and put some distance between yourself and them, a loud collective shriek goes up from the group of people. Frankie immediately grabs you and pulls you down into the tall grass next to the trail. It feels like your heart is going to claw itself out of your chest as you feel Frankie’s weight on top of you, he’s half covered you with his body. You glance up at his face and you see him carefully lift his head out of the tall grass.

“It’s ok, they’re running, but in the other direction,” he whispers and pulls you up. In a crouch Frankie starts to jog down the other side of the ridge, holding on to your hand as you run to keep up with him. You continue running until your lungs are about to give up and Frankie slows down but starts walking next to you, keeping a brutal pace, still holding onto your hand.

“We need to get away from them as fast as possible, we can’t fight that many on foot,” he pants, giving your hand another squeeze.

Not until you’ve covered about three miles does he slow down to a regular pace, you’re drenched in sweat and breathing hard, your legs aching. He pulls you off the side of the trail you’ve been following, into the forest and behind a thick shrub.

“Sit down,” he motions, pointing to the ground, “catch your breath and drink some water.”

You gratefully sink down and pull out your water bottle while Frankie remains standing.

“We’re about half a mile from the bridge and the river crossing,” he says, looking at the map. “We need to be extra careful as we approach, if people in this area were trying to get away from any towns they’d probably have to cross there which means a potential traffic jam and potentially infected.”

You nod and sip the water, offering Frankie your bottle when you’re done. He gratefully takes a long swig while you get back to your feet. You’re still exhausted after the sprint but you want to keep moving. The countryside around you makes you nervous, there are small farms dotted across it, three days ago you would’ve thought it looked quaint and rural, now the sight of every farm house makes you edgy.

Putting away your water bottle, you follow Frankie back to the trail and after a short time it emerges from the forest onto a large country road, up ahead you can see the bridge. As Frankie had feared, it’s jammed with cars. You can walk between them, but the thought of what might be hiding among them makes panic claw its way up your throat and you take a tight hold of Frankie’s hand. He looks back and sees the fear in your eyes. Pulling you back into the trees he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tight to his chest for a minute, he pulls back and cups your cheeks, his large hands are warm and dry on your skin, as he kisses you deeply before he looks down at you and traces his fingers over your lips.

“I’m sorry, cariño, it’s the only way forward.” His eyes rake over your face as if he’s committing it to memory and you suddenly realize what he’s doing.

“Don’t say goodbye, Frankie,” you croak, your voice catching in your throat.

“Just in case, mi amor,” he says in a low voice, pressing his lips to yours again. When he pulls back he turns and takes your hand, leading you back to the road where he lets go of it.

“Stay six feet behind me, gun out, safety off, but keep it pointed to the ground. If you have to fire, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it.” He gives you a final look, a small smile, before turning back to the road.

It’s slow going, following Frankie’s lead you move carefully in his footsteps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Frankie stops and surveys the cars in front of you regularly but nothing seems out of the ordinary, you see no humans, only open car doors, luggage that’s been left behind.

As you’ve crossed about two thirds of the bridge a dog suddenly launches itself at the cage door keeping it shut in, barking loudly from inside a large SUV. Frankie and you both drop into a crouch, trying to see if the loud noise will draw in any infected, but the dog quietens down and the landscape around the bridge remains silent. You breathe a sigh of relief as Frankie carefully stands up again and motions for you to follow him. He carefully approaches the dog in the cage, a golden retriever you think, mumbling soft words to it, calming it down. Soon the dog is licking his fingers through the bars of the cage and Frankie slides back the lock, opening the door. The dog jumps down, its tail happily wagging as you scratch its ears.

“Good boy,” you mumble, patting its flank as Frankie starts moving forward again. You give the dog a final scratch before you follow him towards the end of the bridge. The dog trails behind you for a while before it falls behind, going back to the SUV.

As you get to the end of the bridge Frankie holds his hand up, signaling for you to stop. He points to the last pillar of the bridge, written on it, in what looks like black magic marker, are the letters SOF, underneath is a rectangle with a single line through the middle and the number 1 just outside the box.

“Special Operations Force,” Frankie says, “Pope’s been through here but he’s alone. The rectangle means he’s motorized.” He walks over to the pillar, pulling a marker from his side pocket and crouching down he writes SOF underneath Pope’s message, but he adds an odd looking cross underneath, two sides are flat and two are rounded. Then he writes ‘2’ next to it.

“Special Operations Aviation,” he explains while he stands up and puts the marker away. “I don’t think any of the other guys will come past here but if Pope comes back the same way he’ll see that we’ve been here.”

You continue down the road, it’s still about an hour's walk to Lucía’s house and you’re forced to stay on the road, there are no hiking trails leading in the right direction. Frankie’s head is on a swivel, his gun drawn as you both walk off to the side of the road, creating some distance between yourselves and the cars. There are less of them now, and up ahead you can see an almost clear road. You crest a hill in the road, carefully trying to see over to the other side before you’re too exposed, when a pickup truck just ahead rumbles to life and barrels towards you with a screech of tires. Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you behind one of the few cars on the road, his gun aimed at the truck. “They’ve got to be ok, right Frankie?” you say, his hand still holding you down behind the car. “Infected can’t drive!”

“Stay down, cariño,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the truck. You hear it come to a stop and the engine goes silent as the doors are opened. Frankie lets go of you and grabs his gun with both hands. You turn and peek over the bonnet of the car and see two men get out, staying behind the doors of the truck, as another two jump down from the flatbed.

“You know how to use that gun, sonny?” the oldest man calls from behind the driver’s door. He’s big and burly looking, a cowboy hat squashed down on a very round head.

“Sure,” Frankie calls back, shifting his stance.

“Why don’t you lower it and toss it over here. And any gun your cute girl might be carrying.” The man’s voice is saccharine and makes your neck hairs stand on end, you glance up at Frankie and see the muscle in his jaw working.

“We’re just passing through, trying to get to some friends, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Then why you pointing a gun at me, son?” The older man looks over his shoulder and nods at the two men who got off the truck and they slowly move to the sides, circling the two of you.

“Cariño, get your gun up and stand behind me, aim at the man on the left,” Frankie says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the older man. You do as he says, trying to have a steady grip on the gun to keep your hands from shaking. Copying Frankie’s stance, you hold your gun in both hands, your feet apart and steady, aiming at the man on the left. With a thumb you flick the safety off and draw a deep breath.

“Steady there, girlie,” the old man drawls, as he sees you move, holding up a hand to stop the two men. “Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid and get your girl in trouble here.” He moves out from behind the car door, and from the corner of your eye you see the rifle he’s holding low in his hands. “We’re just out here making sure no one’s looting these cars, especially of any guns they might find.”

“These guns are mine, like I said, we’re just passing through.” Frankie calls back through gritted teeth. You can hear the sharp tone in his voice as his eyes flick from the man in the cowboy hat and the man still standing behind the passenger side door.

“You’re outnumbered, pal,” the man on the right calls out with a chuckle, “just hand over the guns and any supplies, and we’ll let you pass.”

“Might keep your girl though,” the man on your left drawls, the man you’ve got your gun aimed at, he’s eyeing you with a smirk on his face that makes your skin crawl. “She’s shaking like a leaf but I bet she’d put up a nice little fight.”

Frankie glances over at the man on the left, before he looks back at the man in the cowboy hat, he’s got a crooked smile on his lips as he shoulders the rifle.

“C’mon, sonny, the guns and the girl, and then you can walk away.”

Frankie’s gun is loud on the silent road, and the man in the cowboy hat crumples over, his shot going wide as the rifle hits the ground. The man on the left throws himself forward and you feel the recoil in your arms as you fire, you don’t even know if your bullets hit, you can hear several shots from Frankie’s gun and your own, and Frankie’s hand on your shoulder as he pushes you to the ground. Two more shots ring out and Frankie ducks behind the car, his gun raised, listening. When nothing stirs he quickly glances over the bonnet before he stands up. Three of the men are dead on the ground, the fourth one, the one behind the passenger door, is scrabbling for something and with a few long steps, Frankie is on him, kicking the gun out of his reach.

He’s on the ground, you can see him beneath the door, Frankie towering above him, his gun aimed at the man. As you watch, the man lifts his palms up, pleading, but the shot rings out and the man slumps back. Frankie bends down and picks up the man’s gun, quickly patting him down and fishing an ammo box from his pants. When he straightens up and walks back towards you his face is impassive, blank and you remember when you last saw that look; the bar that night you thought Frankie was a violent man. Now you know, he is violent, but only when he needs to and for now, you’re very grateful for his skills.

You put your hands out to push yourself off the ground and a burning pain shoots through your shoulder, wincing you get to your feet and look at your torn shirt. Blood is seeping through and you suddenly feel faint. Frankie is on you in two fast steps, grabbing your arm and pulling back your shirt.

“You’re hit,” his voice suddenly sharp with worry, as his gentle fingers push at the fabric, making you wince again. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it over your shoulder. “Thank god,” he breathes out as he sees the shallow gash, “you’ve been grazed, it didn’t go in.” He pulls up his arm as if he’s about to pull his backpack off but changes his mind.

“Come here, get in the truck,” he guides you over to the passenger side, “close your eyes, don’t look,” he mumbles as you have to step over the corpse. You breathe in deeply and keep your eyes closed until Frankie closes the door. He bends down to pick up the other man’s rifle, putting it behind the bench seat, before he gets in and starts up the engine. It rumbles to life and Frankie turns it around, heading back down the almost empty road, and as soon as he sees a secluded spot he pulls over and kills the engine.

“I’ve got to clean your arm, cariño,” says, opening up his backpack for the first aid kit. “Does it hurt?” He looks over at you, his eyes are worried and you shake your head to calm him.

“Only a little, it stings more than anything.”

“Ok, just keep breathing in and out while I do this.”

The iodine solution makes you whimper but Frankie is fast and efficient, when the compress is on your shoulder the pain is already subsiding. He pulls your shirt back on, gives you a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head with his large hand.

“You ok?” he asks in a low voice, “not just the injury, with what just happened too?”

You let out a shuddering breath as you allow yourself to think about the situation, “I’m very glad you used to be a soldier, Frankie,” you say, leaning your forehead against his, “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve saved my life in twenty four hours.”

“Me too,” he breathes, his thumb is caressing your cheek as he looks at you. His deep brown eyes are strained, but calm, “Things are going to get worse before they get better, cariño. I’ve seen it before, when society crumbles, it brings out the worst in people and they become very dangerous. I need you and Lucía safe at the cabin until we know things are getting back to normal, whenever that might be.”

You nod and he turns back to the wheel and starts up the truck, “At least we got a truck out of it, this will make things easier as long as we have gas.”

The truck rumbles through the landscape, in the distance you see a group of infected running towards something but the road curves and you move away from them. Frankie has driven this road hundreds of times, every time he came to pick up or drop off Lucía, and now he wonders at how eerily still it is. There are no people as the truck drives past the first few houses of the small town, cars line the main street but they’ve been pushed to the side. The dents and scrapes on them indicate that something big came through and shoved them out of the way.

Frankie turns down a smaller side street, and then another small street, coming to the end of town. There are a few cars still parked outside the houses but most are gone. You glance over at him, his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel as his restless eyes bounce around the street, looking for infected, people, anything. He’s grinding his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing and when he pulls up outside a small bungalow you hear his white knuckles make the steering wheel creak.

“This is their place,” he says in a low voice, “the car is still here.” He opens the truck door and steps down, listening for any movement as you follow him out. Pulling his gun he moves carefully up the porch and tests the handle on the door, it’s locked.

“Stay by the truck,” he says to you, “if anything happens, if anyone comes, fire once in the air, ok?”

You nod and do as he says. Frankie carefully walks down the side of the house, easily scaling the wooden fence that closes off the backyard. He disappears from view and you nervously wait, looking around the quiet neighborhood. When he opens the door to the house from the inside you jump but he holds up his hand in a placating sign, signaling for you to stay where you are. He disappears into the house again, you guess this means Lucía isn’t here, and neither is anyone else.

You hear him walking through the house and before long he comes back out, a note in his hand.

“They’ve been evacuated,” he says, showing you the note from Lucía’s mom. It’s dated the day before yesterday, Saturday, the note says the soldiers came at night and gave them fifteen minutes to pack up essentials.

“She says they told her they’re going to a quarantine zone in Franklin. I’ve got to see if I can get them out of there.” He breathes a sigh of relief, “At least they’re safe for now.” he says, getting back into the truck and starting it up.

As the truck rumbles through town you start seeing more infected, they stumble out of a few of the shops, attracted to the sound of the truck. At one intersection you see a large number of them fallen into a pile, bullet wounds to their heads, and you quickly look away. Their pallid skin, starting to show strange looking lesions, no longer looks human, but their clothes are still bright and colorful, reminds you terribly of the people who would’ve put them on, maybe on Friday morning, expecting just another day.

Frankie speeds up, leaving town, and the shrieking infected behind, heading for Franklin. It’s less than an hour away, the nearest big city, and like before you see the cars pushed to the side of the road. Frankie’s fingers are drumming on the steering wheel again, his grip tight, his jaw clenched. He’s getting closer to Lucía, now he knows she’s safe, he just needs to get to her.

“When we get to the quarantine zone, do you think we should stay there?” you ask him. “It doesn’t sound like a ‘quarantine zone’ is somewhere they’ll let you in and out of. Maybe it’ll be safer for us there too?”

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, glancing over at you, “I need to see it first, how are they quarantining people? Keeping them separate enough so that if someone is already infected, they can’t attack and infect more people?” His fingers drum faster against the wheel, “I just need to see her, see her safe.”

You put your hand on his leg and give it a squeeze and he drops his hand, curling his fingers around yours.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Still stings a bit, but it’s dulled, hurts when I move it.” You test moving your arm up and down, feeling the pull of the compress.

“It’ll give you gnarly looking scar,” he grins, “match some of mine.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and gives it a kiss, his eyes leaving the road for a second. When he looks back again he sees birds circling up ahead.

“Buzzards,” he points them out to you. “Looks like they’re circling just over the road.” He slows down the truck as you come around a bend, clearing a small group of trees. The rumble of the truck startles the birds and you see more of them rise into the sky from the field bordering the road. Frankie stops the truck, leaving it in neutral, watching the birds circle, waiting to see if something moves. When nothing stirs he opens the door, signaling for you to stay put, and he steps on to the instep of the truck, hoisting himself up so that he can look over the door of the truck.

“Oh fuck…” you hear him breathe out.

“What, Frankie, what is it?” you ask but he doesn’t answer so you open your own door and swing yourself up on the instep. Frankie glances back at you and motions for you to get back inside.

“Cariño, don’t, you don’t wanna- “

It’s too late, you look over the field, it looks like almost a hundred people are lying in it, none of them moving. The buzzards are settling back down, walking across the still bodies.

“Oh my god…” you gasp, your hand going over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror. “What killed them?” you whisper, “are they infected?”

“Get into the driver’s seat,” he says, “I’m going closer but I need you to be ready to drive if they are infected.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Frankie!” you say in a hard voice, as you slide over the bench seat and get behind the wheel.

“I’m counting on it, cariño,” he grips your hand before jumping down onto the ground. Grabbing the rifle from the back he loads it before he starts moving slowly towards the field.

You step up onto the instep on the driver’s side, watching Frankie’s back as he makes his way across the road and into the field. As he reaches the first body he crouches down and seems to inspect them. Nothing moves, none of the bodies are jerking, they’re just dead. He stands up again and walks around the outskirts of where they’ve fallen. Suddenly he stops, slinging the rifle onto his back, before he steps into the mass of bodies, he must be stepping on them as he bends down and pulls at one of them, turning it over to face him. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falls onto his back among the bodies.

Without thinking you jump down from the truck and run to him, grabbing hold of his arm as he scrambles to stand up, getting away from the bodies.

“It’s Helena, she’s the mom of Lucía’s best friend,” he pants, standing up. You look over at the blonde woman, her open eyes looking sightless to the sky. Her torso has at least three bullet holes in the pale blue shirt she’s wearing, blood staining the light fabric dark.

“They lived across the street from Lucía,” Frankie croaks and you suddenly realize what he’s saying, gripping his arm hard.

He tears himself away from you as he starts circling around the bodies, crouching down, looking under those who have fallen on top of others, his eyes desperately scanning every face, every piece of visible clothing, looking for something he recognizes, praying he doesn’t. His heart is racing, his vision narrows into one long tunnel, focused on the bodies, praying, cursing, he can’t hear you call after him.

And then he sees it.

The hem of a dress he’d know anywhere because her abuela made it for her.

With a shout he steps into the mass of bodies. You rush up behind him, tears are welling up into your eyes, as you watch him scramble over to the small body. Skinny little legs in sneakers you bought for her birthday, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from wailing.

The dress is sticking out from underneath a woman, and as he gets closer he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend, her arms hugging her daughter tight, even in death. The back of her tan coat is dark with coagulated blood that sticks to his hands as he bends back her arms to release her grip. As he shoves her aside a strangled cry goes up from the small body underneath, Lucia’s head moves as a rattled breath escapes her lungs and Frankie cries out in relief, grabbing hold of her waist to gently turn her over, scanning her body for injuries, he sees no blood on her.

“Mija, I’m here, I’m here,” he gasps, “daddy’s here, Lucía, I’m here.”

He’s holding out his arms to lift her up when he sees it.

Trailing under the skin of her small throat.

Up under the pallid skin of her cheeks, spreading out in a fine net.

Tendrils reaching out from her small mouth.

“Frankie!” you cry as the small body shrieks and reaches for him. He almost takes her hand, almost takes the small hand that’s grasping after his. You can see it, even from behind him, you can see the empty eyes, the twitching movement.

Infected.

His hand is still in the air, halfway to reaching out for her, his Lucía, her hand outstretched to him. As she screams, his hand drops to his gun.

You turn your head when the gunshot rings out.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou #frankie morales angst #francisco catfish morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales

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kthyg · 1 year

Text

ghoul. — (consign)

[SIXTH INSTALMENT OF GHOUL SERIES : CONSIGN]

"Kiss your clean record goodbye." Provocation or prediction.

S2 squad went to the 13th ward for a Wipe Out Operation but didn't expect to encounter an Owl in the midst of the operation.

pairing. jungkook x reader, hoseok x reader, jin x reader (ft. myg & pjm)

rating. M

genre. tokyo ghoul au, soulmate au, gore, violence, mass attack

disclaimer. this story is a work of fiction. descriptions of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.

warning. lots of bloodshed (mostly spilled from the ghouls :/), depiction of people (doves) getting killed ruthlessly by the Owl and killing methodology was described.

word count. 5k+

lexicon & profiles . masterpost . masterlist . navigation

note from winter 💌

sorry for the long disappearance </3 but er hey, a brand new banner for ghoul!! beta read by loyal beta reader @zyphqr <3 this is just a short one maybe can be counted as a filler chapter too, but it will make do. hope you guys enjoy this <33 and u lots might not notice, but i kind of changed my writing style a bit? I think consign has got to be the most elaborated fic I've ever written cause those detailed words? idk how my brain came up with that but I'm proud of this one

💌 what is winter listening to? in sequence; D-DAY, Interlude: Dawn, HUH?!, AMYGDALA. (All by Agust-D)

📑 if you want to know more about this au, you can refer to lexicon & profiles. any other questions you can refer to me !!

dedication. a gift to all of my readers.

The urban avenue of Seoul tonight was oddly still, with only sporadic leaf rustling in the soft breeze breaking the silence. The streetlights emitted a pale light illuminating the desolate pathway and generating a creepy ambience that felt unsettling. The towering edifices on both sides of the street looked imposing and austere, with dark windows and walls stained by the wear of time. In Seoul, quiet streets like this one often serve as a warning sign, hinting at the stillness that precedes a night of horror and violence.

This only served as a warning that hazards could present in any situation, even in the calmest and most tranquil circumstances.

The only sounds that interrupted the quietness were the faraway noise of cars and the faint footsteps’ echoes. A stray feline would occasionally scuttle across the street, eyes gleaming, barely visible in the low light. Despite the peacefulness of the evening, the street’s stillness felt unusual and peculiar. A strong odour of rot and other, more ominous scents, detectable only by those with heightened senses, hung heavily in the air. An enduring sensation of peril seemed to permeate the surroundings, giving the impression of being under surveillance by something lurking in the shadows. The silence was broken by the occasional sound of shattering glass or the screech of metal against metal. A car alarm would blare for a few moments before falling silent once more.

These sounds, too, added to the unease that hung in the air, hinting at the possibility of danger lurking in the darkness.

For those who knew of the existence of ghouls, quiet streets would be even more unsettling. People would be acutely aware that a ghoul could lurk somewhere in the shadows, watching, waiting for its next victim. The silence of the street, combined with the faint scent of blood in the air, would make them feel like they were walking on thin ice, with danger lurking around every corner.

The 13th ward, Seochu-gu.

The pale moonlight bathed the ward where ghouls were recently reported to be lurking in the shadows. The usually bustling streets were now empty, only to be filled in by a large group of doves - some dressed in formal KCCG attire while others were heavily armed. Operating vehicles and drones were also present, adding to the sense of preparation and anticipation in the air. As Jung Hoseok, the Chief Director of Division II, approached, the sound of footsteps echoed through the night, accompanied by the presence of bureaus.

“Alright, good evening, doves,” Hoseok spoke, his voice firm and commanding. “I, Jung Hoseok, Chief Director of Division II, will be leading today’s Wipe Out Operation that is to be conducted here in the 13th ward.”

You and another four supreme investigators stood at attention, listening to Hoseok’s every word. “Operating squad involved in this operation will only be the Supreme Squad S2 and 75 Bureaus. Other than S2 and Bureau Investigators are required to leave the scene. Failed to do so and get caught by S2 squad members, the bureaus, or me, will receive disciplinary action.” Everyone present at the scene nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Hoseok continued, “Commencing roll call on S2 squad. Please present your weapon.”

Each member stood tall and proud, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. The atmosphere was tense, and they knew they were about to embark on a dangerous mission. Finally, Hoseok began calling out names; each member stepped forward to present their weapon.

“Present as always.” A soulful voice spoke with confidence.

The roll call started with Jeon Jungkook, the Branch Director of 2nd Ward, as he confidently presented his weapon, the Angel Beat, an SS-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible speed and accuracy. Min Yoongi stepped forward with a bored, unbothered expression and presented his weapon, the 13’s Jason, a Rinkaku type rated S+. 13’s Jason was one of the most potent weapons in their arsenal, and Min Yoongi knew how to use it to devastating effect.

As the roll call continued, Park Jimin, another Special Class member, stepped forward proudly with his charming smile, “Never not present,” and presented his weapon, the IXA, a Koukaku type that was rated S+.

Kim Seokjin, your fellow Associate Special Class, followed suit, responded upon his name being called and presented his weapon, the Narukami, an S+-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible range and power.

Finally, your name was called out. Your grip tightened on your quinque as you presented your weapon, the Aus, a Rinkaku-type rated S+. The Aus was a fearsome weapon known for its speed and agility, and you had spent countless hours training with it to hone your skills. As the roll call came to a close, you stood steady, weapon at the ready.

Hoseok looked around at his team, impressed by their impressive arsenal. “Total of five members. Weapon rating from SS to S+.”

He then briefed the investigators on the operation. “This operation aims to cleanse the 13th ward off ghouls. It was brought to our attention that quite a number of ghouls have been roaming in this ward. Expect every worst possibility as the data collected by the bureaus have shown that several S+ rated ghouls are hiding in this ward.”

“Movement will be in personal formation with 15 Bureaus as back-ups. I will be assisting each one of you through the earpiece and monitoring through the drones.”

The investigators nodded, preparing themselves for the dangerous mission ahead. Hoseok gave them a nod of approval. “Doves, fight with your all. Best of luck,” he said before giving the signal.

“Operation commences.”

With a nod from your leader, the five of you set out into the dark night, ready to fight for justice and protect the citizens of the 13th ward from the threat of ghouls. You moved out, determined to eliminate the ghouls that lurked in the darkness. As all of you moved through the eerie streets of the 13th ward, the tension in the air was felt by everyone. The sound of footsteps echoed loudly as if warning any lurking ghouls of the doves’ presence. Jungkook took point, his Angel Beat quinque ready in his grip. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of movement.

“Clear,” he informed Hoseok, his voice crackling through your earpiece too.

As Jungkook ventured to his chosen route, the rest of the team moved forward, staying in formation before breaking into personal formation. Your squad moved deeper into the ward, searching every nook and cranny for any sign of ghoul activity. The tension was palpable, as all of you knew that any misstep could mean certain death or injury.

To describe Wipe-Out Operation with one word would be unpredictable. This operation was assigned to the Supreme Squad for a reason. Given the unpredictability, KCCG only sent out Associates Special Class and above to prevent any unwarranted damages, and it was usually conducted and supervised by Division Chief Director, Hoseok or Namjoon, according to the wards involved. KCCG strictly prohibited any ranks lower than Associate Special and Special from participating in the operation, no matter how great and exceptional one’s skills were.

It was the experience that counted, at least according to the KCCG’s higher-ups.

“Remaining doves, split into pairs,” Hoseok commanded. “The headquarters sent a newly found vision radar of the 13th ward, and the Rc levels are increasing. Jungkook, be informed. I will send out more bureaus to your side.”

“Very well.” His voice echoed in your earpiece following Hoseok.

“Bureaus, load your Q-bullets,” he ordered, stern and commanding.

The bureaus sprang into action, their movements quick and efficient. They reached for their bullet cases, deftly loading their Q-bullets into their quinques. The sound of the bullets clicking into place was the only noise in the silent night as they prepared themselves for the upcoming operation. They stood in line as they finished loading, waiting for the following order. Each one was ready for whatever lay ahead, their minds focused and their hearts beating with anticipation.

“Weapons are to be fired upon the orders of your respective formation leaders,” Hoseok instructed one last time before going off the communication system.

Suddenly, Yoongi urged you to follow him, “Let’s go (Y/N).”

Noticing the confusion on Jimin’s face, he clarified the situation by pointing out that it wouldn’t be a good idea to form a team with two associates and two special classes.

“In that case, you can take Jin,” Jimin countered, crossing his arms.

Yoongi scoffed, “Damn. Did I miss a notice stating that (Y/N) is your partner again?” He then grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the other side of the ward, leaving Jimin fuming with anger and Jin puzzled.

As you and Yoongi turned to a corner, a loud noise erupted. The two of you stopped any movements, weapons raised as a reflex. You knew better than to speak out loud, so you waited with bated breath. Suddenly, a figure leapt out from the shadows.

It was a ghoul.

Its Kagune gleamed in the dim light and moved at a thunder-like speed, but before the ghoul could even reach the two of you, Yoongi had already unsheathed his jagged quinque. His quinque sliced through the air with deadly accuracy as he pivoted on his heel and swung, slicing through its kagune. The ghoul stumbled backwards, blood gushing from the wound on its side. Yoongi didn’t give it a chance to recover, though. He pressed forward, striking blow after blow with his quinque.

The ghoul crumpled to the ground with a loud thud, lifeless.

You stood back, watching as Yoongi wrenched the blood off his weapon and rested it on his shoulder. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that Yoongi was the most ruthless, quick-witted investigator ever to be born in KCCG. But at that moment, you wished he was anything but those. The ghoul you and Yoongi had encountered was a lone male ghoul. But it wasn’t that fact that made you hesitant.

He looked terrified. Eyes wide with fear.

It wasn’t the fear of being found by doves.

The fear in his eyes was present even before the pair of you arrived. He was about to say something before Yoongi killed him. You didn’t miss the tremble of his lips. “He was trying to tell something.” You approached the dead body.

Yoongi crouched down beside you and examined the ghoul’s face. “It doesn’t matter now.”

You frowned; you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have missed something important. You scanned the area to see if there were other ghouls nearby, but there weren’t any. You and Yoongi moved forward cautiously. The streets of the 13th ward were silent. The moon shone down the deserted road, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. As you and your partner walked further into the area, Yoongi suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing you to do the same.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, approaching you rapidly.

Yoongi swung his quinque, ready for use, a menacing look on his face. You followed suit, grip on your weapon tightening. The footsteps grew closer, and you could see the silhouette of three figures approaching your direction with crazed expressions on their faces, ready to attack.

Without hesitation, Yoongi charged forward, striking one of the ghouls with a swift blow from his quinque. They clashed back and forth, Yoongi using his agility to dodge the ghoul’s attacks and strike back with his 13’s Jason. Each time he landed a hit, the ghoul would let out a pained growl, but it only seemed to make it more aggressive.

But it made Yoongi scoff.

He found it funny how the ghoul tried to act mighty and strong when he could easily detach the head from the neck with bare hands. Yoongi fought the creature with a clear stance and graceful movements as if he was performing a dance.

A deadly dance.

He was, after all, a killing machine masking as a delicate doll.

The remaining two turned their attention to you. The male ghoul was massive, towering over you with impressive height and a menacing expression. His kagune, a long tentacle-like appendage, whipped through the air as it prepared to attack. He lunged forward, forming his kagune into a claw; he aimed at your chest. But you quickly dodged the attack, stepping to the side and bringing your Aus up in a defensive stance. He snarled and attacked again.

Yoongi launched a powerful attack with his kagune, slicing through the ghoul’s torso and causing him to fall to the ground with a thud. He dragged his quinque painfully slow through the ghoul’s body as more blood flowed out. He lazily turned his head toward your direction. You were fighting two ghouls, but he didn’t have any intention of helping you, so he continued playing with the dead body.

You can handle them…

Probably, he shrugged.

With a swift movement of your wrist, you sliced through the ghoul’s arm, causing him to screech in pain and recoil. The second one finally jumped into the fight. She was relentless, her kagune striking out again and again, but you were unyielding, dodging, blocking, and attacking with unflinching determination. She charged at you upon seeing her friend being taken down, but again, you instinctively dodged to the side, swinging your quinque in a wide arc. She was fast, but you were quicker as you blocked and deflected her attacks while landing blows of your own. Your weapon finally made heavy contact with the ghoul’s flesh, spraying a shower of blood into the air. She howled in pain, but you couldn’t feel any sympathy; instead, you could feel a rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, the injured male lunged forward with lightning speed, his kagune striking at you with deadly force. You looked at him with a condescending smirk, “A strong one, aren’t you?”

It was almost psychotic how your tone sounded because nothing could’ve prepared your opponents for your sudden move. Your quinque pierced through the ghoul’s flesh in a blink of an eye, and he let out a final howl before collapsing to the ground, dead.

It took the female one off guard, but you didn’t give her time to recover as you jumped over her head and delivered a powerful kick to its back. She was sent flying with great force; probably broke a few bones and damaged some areas of skin. You looked down at her spasming figure with malice and plunged your Aus into her back, ending her life immediately.

The bureaus under your command had shocking looks on their faces. They exchanged glances with each other as if realising that you were not to be underestimated. Of course, they had always heard the praises that fell from the lips of the higher-ups that you were a skilled investigator, but seeing you in action was entirely another thing.

“New recruits?” Yoongi’s voice was calm and collected, betraying no hint of emotion as he finished off the ghoul he was handling just now.

He did detach the head from the neck.

The bureaus’ complexion paled, every colour drained at the horrendous sight before them.

“Right, I forgot bureaus don’t kill all the time,” because it was clear that killing ghouls was just another day in the life of a KCCG investigator.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine as you caught a glimpse of a figure moving in the corner of your eye. It has to be a mistake. A low growl echoed through the hallway, causing the team to freeze. They knew that sound all too well - it was the sound of a ghoul.

Not just an ordinary ghoul.

“It’s the Owl.”

Yoongi’s voice was the last thing you heard before the explosive sound of the Owl crashing on the ground, announcing its presence and causing debris to rain down on everyone. The heavy feelings that have been crawling on your back. The first ghoul you had encountered, the terror and fear in his eyes.

The three ghouls that were killed.

They died in the hands of doves instead of the Owl.

It was unintentional that they encountered us.

They were running away from the grim reaper but still stumbled on death’s door.

“Take cover!” You commanded the bureaus, grabbing the nearest to you by the arm and pulling them towards the most immediate cover. You and Yoongi were split as he jumped toward the right side. You positioned yourself in front of the female bureau you had pulled with you, shielding her from any potential danger.

The Owl planned all of this. None of these were coincidences.

Reaching for your ear device, you contacted Hoseok, “Emergency code red-O, triple S; Yong. Location, North–”

“Bureaus, fire!”

Upon Yoongi’s command, the bureaus opened fire on the Owl. The air was filled with the sound of gunfire and the whistling of projectiles. But the bullets seemed to have no effect on it. The Owl grew even more enraged and began to thrash about wildly. Its tentacles flailed out in every direction, knocking over walls and sending debris flying through the air.

What the fuck?

Why is he provoking Yong?!

Owls were immune to Q-bullets; sometimes, even quinque does no damage. He should know that.

“Fall back!” You shouted through the chaos, but your command fell on deaf ears. The sound of the continuous firing prevented your voice from reaching your comrades. You scrambled to dodge the tentacles and find another safe cover. You could feel the ground shaking beneath you as Owl continued to wreak havoc on the ward. The dangerous creature let out a deafening screech. Its eyes glowed red as it turned its attention toward the bureaus. It flapped its kagune and leapt into the air, swooping down towards them with incredible speed. The armed investigators scattered desperately, trying to avoid the creature’s deadly tentacles.

“Investigator Min, we need to–”

Yong pounced on a group of bureaus, slashing and tearing with its razor-sharp appendages. They screamed in terror as the beast’s relentless assault tore them apart. Some were still shooting and firing in hopes of distracting or even injuring – just a minor wound on the Owl, but despite their best efforts, the attacks seemed only to enrage the Owl further. It seemed almost invincible, unstoppable in its rage. Its attacks became increasingly ferocious, and the investigators found themselves quickly losing ground.

You turned to your partner in terror, hoping he would just look you in the eyes and bellow a command. “Min Yoongi – !” Except he was not in his spot.

The Owl turned around just in time to block your superior’s attack with its own kagune. It countered with a devastating strike that nearly took Yoongi off his feet.

“Yoongi, Hoseok is on the way. We need to retreat first!” You tried to reach him again while trying to gather the bureaus. The situation was already chaos at its finest; Yoongi definitely didn’t need to add up to it.

With a violent swing of his 13’s Jason, Yoongi charged forward once more, his quinque gleaming in the dim light of the ward. The two engaged in an intense battle, their weapons clashing with each other in a violent symphony. He lunged at the Owl, his quinque slashing through the air toward the ghoul’s head. But no matter how skilled Yoongi was, Owl was no easy opponent, and it had yet to unleash its full power.

Yoongi was not Namjoon.

Not even Hoseok.

Skills unmatched.

Yong’s eyes glowed with malice. Sidestepping the attack, it launched itself towards Yoongi; massive kagune extended, robust scale-red slashed through the air and to his abdomen. Yoongi stumbled back as blood seeped through his shirt.

He cursed under his breath, looking down at his open wound. His stamina was decreasing significantly from all those attacks and defences. But his body had long entered survival mode; he was far from exhausted. The Owl that stood in front of him, he knew very well.

The same Owl that caused a riot and havoc back in his hometown.

The very same Owl that became the reason why he was in KCCG instead of living happily with his family.

The one and only Owl that was responsible for his first ever traumatic event.

The fucking Owl that–

“Yoongi, dodge!” You slammed your body toward Yoongi without thinking twice the moment you saw his eyes go blank. You’ve seen that Yoongi way too many times. The Yoongi that would be deep in thought and stare into nothingness when you passed by his office. The only moment where he would show vulnerability unconsciously, and you knew how much he hated it– because you hated it too– but that always happened in the KCCG building and never, ever during a mission.

The collision between your body and Yoongi’s was extremely powerful that it sent him flying to the other side, to a safer side. His eyes finally met yours as his train of thought was interrupted. The worried expression on his face was the first you ever saw in your time working with him as he screamed your name with great desperation. You could swear you saw his eyes turn glossy before you were sent flying.

You pushed him just in time but were a second late to dodge the Owl’s full-force attack. Your Aus managed only to cover your torso as the Owl’s movement was too quick for your reflex. Your whole body met with the Owl’s heavy blow.

Since when does getting hit by your own quinque hurt like bitch? “S-shit…”

Your body was numb.

Hey, at least you’re not feeling pain.

Better than feeling the pain like someone was taking away your soul.

“Oh, my lady,” A voice reached your ears, although it was very faint due to the impact your body had experienced. You knew whose voice it was. “Do you recognise me?”

It was Hoseok.

You blinked twice as a yes.

“Good girl.” Weirdly you could feel his gentle stroke on your hair. His warmth reached your cold, numbing body. You wanted to close your eyes. “I need you to stay with us until you reach the hospital. Can you do that for me?”

You were tired. You didn’t think you could comply with this order.

“I know you’re tired and hurt, (Y/N), but I need you to just stay conscious. Jin will keep you company. I will take over everything from here. Take a rest, but please stay alive.”

The next thing you know, Jin was already on your side with a worried expression. “(Y/N), hang on there. The ambulance is on the way.” He stroked your hair with his rough, calloused hand – probably due to handling those heavy killing weapons. Your hands were no different. In fact, all ghoul investigators were bound to roughen their hands.

With the quinques.

And with blood.

Oh, are you regretting your decision, (Y/N)?

Never.

“Stay with us, (Y/N),” you heard Jungkook’s voice. Quinque was thrown to the side as he kneeled next to you. You swore his force could’ve injured his knees, but he didn’t seem to care at all by the looks of it. His eyes were only on you. Pupils dilated in fear. Hands and lips trembled as he spoke. “It must’ve hurt a lot, Sakura.”

Sakura.

“Yeah,” you said with minimal energy. “It hurts a lot, Koo.”

Jimin arrived last at the scene. He was out of breath from the sprinting he did when he received Hoseok’s assembly order. His eyes first landed on your half-alive body before the sight of the hideous monster caught his eyes.

Yoongi and (Y/N) couldn’t be that stupid to try and take the Owl down.

One was a half-ghoul, and another one was pure human.

“Oh, Yong Owl,” Hoseok had left your side, hands stuffed in his pockets and walked towards Yoongi, ordering the other fellow Supreme Squad members to follow him with bureaus at the ready. “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

Yong Owl.

That name caught Jimin’s attention. When Hoseok commanded him to come here, he wasn’t informed which Owl was at the scene; only his rate was told. Jimin pushed back his hair from his forehead. He so badly wanted to burst into a loud laugh. He let his hand stay on his face longer but couldn’t contain the vicious smirk tugging on his lips at the realisation. Of course, it wasn’t you that could be so stupid in this situation.

You were the result of Yoongi’s stupidity.

Yong wasn’t some random Owl. Of course, he wasn’t, even for KCCG. But Yong was especially not some random Owl for Yoongi.

Jungkook hesitated to walk away from you but got on his feet and stood next to Jin with a concerned face for a few seconds. You were, after all, a Jeon. He couldn’t bear to see his family in pain and let the assaulter run away. He was torn between staying by your side or taking down Yong Owl. Jimin slung his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, pulling the younger with him heading towards the Owl.

Yong was the murderer of Yoongi’s family.

“We’ll be right back, (Y/N),” Jimin sent you a wink. A smirk followed shortly after as he continued. “After this, no more danger you can’t take on will come your way.”

Silly Yoongi, but thank you for the opportunity, soulmate.

“Didn’t expect to see me?” Hoseok smiled. “I know you wish to have encountered Namjoon instead because he always lets you go unscathed, worried for his teammates.”

Yong took a step back as the Chief Director took a step forward. Hoseok was known for his ruthlessness, and that fact was well-learned even for ghouls, even for Owls. While he seemed like the most gentle and caring person, the fact was that he was still a ghoul investigator. His motto in KCCG was to kill with passion. He has worked for KCCG for the longest among everyone. His entire bloodline was born only to serve KCCG for the betterment of the world.

Most Owls have their own hideouts that were undetectable by KCCG; hence it was unlikely for Owls to bump into the doves. Moreover, Owls always stayed lowkey.

“But things work differently for me. You bark, I bite.”

A bureau walked towards Hoseok to hand him a quinque suitcase. Jimin whistled at the sight. He knew what was in that. Heck, it even looked different than any other quinque suitcase.

It was the legendary quinque.

It was the quinque imported from CCG, Japan. Previously wielded by Kishou Arima, the legendary ghoul investigator before he died, since then, the quinque has been stored in CCG’s top secret room. It was only recently an evaluation was done to hand over the quinque to worthy hands and make use of it. Hoseok was invited to take part in the evaluation and easily scored the highest. The quinque was named Owl, created from a kakuhou torn out of the Non-Killing Owl during the battle against Arima. Crafted with precision and designed for devastating efficiency, it possessed an air of elegance despite its deadly purpose. It was the only known SSS-rated quinque and the only one known to be created from a living ghoul.

“Unlucky for you; you hurt my favourite person.” Hoseok shook his head in disappointment as he was just scolding a child for his wrongdoing. He activated the suitcase, and immediately, it transformed into the Owl.

The Owl quinque was a masterpiece of engineering, combining intricate craftsmanship with advanced technology. Its appearance was both captivating and haunting, resembling a pair of oversized metallic wings. The wings were adorned with intricate patterns and etchings, reflecting the meticulous attention to detail put into its creation. The surface of the quinque gleamed with a metallic sheen, hinting at its superior strength and durability. The blade of the quinque was razor-sharp, capable of easily slicing through flesh and exoskeleton. Its edges were finely honed and meticulously maintained, ensuring maximum combat-cutting efficiency.

But it was not just its physical attributes that made the Owl quinque so formidable. Within its core lay a unique and deadly mechanism. With a simple flick of a switch, the quinque would unleash its true power. The wings would unfold, revealing hidden compartments and mechanisms, each serving a specific purpose in enhancing combat capabilities. The Owl quinque was known for its incredible speed and agility. It allowed its wielder to move with astonishing swiftness, striking down enemies in a flurry of precise and lethal attacks. Its versatility was unmatched, enabling the wielder to seamlessly transition between offensive and defensive maneuvers, easily adapting to any situation.

Moreover, the quinque possessed a unique ability to absorb and manipulate the kagune, the potent weapon of the ghouls. It could absorb the kagune’s energy and redirect it with devastating force, turning the enemy’s own power against them. This ability allowed the wielder to effectively counter even the most formidable opponents, turning their strength into their downfall.

The sheer power and elegance of the Owl quinque made it a symbol of Arima’s skill and prowess as a CCG investigator. Its reputation preceded it, striking fear into the hearts of ghouls and admiration in the minds of fellow investigators.

It was a weapon of legend, capable of rewriting the course of battles and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Weapon at ready, Hoseok began again, “I don’t want your death.”

In the hands of Arima, the Owl quinque became an extension of his own being. It embodied his relentless determination and unwavering resolve in the face of darkness. With each swing and strike, he delivered justice with chilling precision, carving a path through the ghouls that dared to challenge him, and it was about to be the same for Hoseok.

The legend of the Owl quinque would be relived in his hands.

“Your scream when I extract fragments of you in Cochlea sounds more satisfying.”

And he would start by painting the blood of Yong on the quinque.

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xthe-writing-vampirex · 9 days

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Hi I have a question! Um I know you wrote it like a while ago, but do you think you will do a part 2 of the mechanic y/n with the animatronics? The one where she has a fear of them. If you do a second part do you think you can tag me?

Mechanic Y/N Part 2

Word count: 1,732

Finally got around to actually writing another part to this! It's looking like my brain is actually letting me write again and I couldn't be happier. I hope this went in a direction you like. I figured I'd try to give Y/N some one on one time with Chica since I don't think I've ever actually written that. I'll probably try to do the same with Roxy at some point as well but I figured Chica would be the most likely to be able to actually calm Y/N down. Anyway I hope you like it!

🌿🌿🌿

Your brush with a very grumpy Monty left you shaking and desperately trying to find somewhere you could actually be alone and try to calm down. Being around your bosses or coworkers like this would definitely not bode well for you. You honestly doubted they would fire you due to something like this but they would question your ability to properly do your job and you just couldn't let that happen. Spotting a nearby janitor's closet you rush over, opening the door and stepping into the surprisingly large space. The closet is full of the typical cleaning supplies and back up parts but it also opens up to what looks like a walk way that could serve as a back way to get from place to place. Closing the door behind you, you move forward, curious about the odd space you've found. When you round the corner however you notice a charging pod, blue lightning bolt glowing to signal someone is in it. You look up towards the little window that lets you see inside and your eyes land on the familiar face of the papa bear himself, Freddy. He doesn't notice you at first, eyes closed as if he's sleeping. It stands to reason that recharge is sort of like sleeping for them so it makes sense he would treat it like that. Curious, you step closer, watching the bear for any sign he might wake up. Unfortunately for you, with your focus so intently on Freddy you don't notice a piece of metal tubing haphazardly placed against the nearby wall. Your foot hits it, causing it to fall down with an audible clank. You flinch, looking up towards the bear again hoping it didn't alert him to your presence. Unfortunately for you, Freddy is a light sleeper.

“Y/N? What are you doing back here? Most of the staff don't come back here unless they're looking for something. Is there anything I can help you with?” The bear asks, stepping out of the charger and causing an audible hiss when the door opens. He steps down, looking down at your small frame and waiting for you to respond to him. Meanwhile you can't get your mouth to actually open and form words, too terrified by the sight in front of you. You're extremely close to the bear, face only coming up to his stomach hatch area. “Uh…..Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, noticing you seem completely frozen and unable to talk. He's not sure what's going through your head but he's certainly not used to this sort of reaction from people, even in the past you'd never done this. Then again you'd avoided ever actually being this close to him. Eventually the bear gets down on one knee so he's more eye level with you, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you're currently in. “Superstar?” He says worriedly, moving to put a hand on your cheek. The movement knocks you out of your trance and you immediately move away from the bear, leaving him stunned with his hand still in the air.

“Y-Yup! I'm totally fine Freddy! See you later!” You reply quickly, wanting nothing more than to get away from the animatronic. First Monty and now this? God could you really do this job if you were this scared? Freddy pauses, bringing his hand down and trying to figure out what's going on here.

“Y/N. Wait a moment. I know something is wrong. Your heart rate is elevated and you seem to be going through a panic attack. How can I help?” The bear asks, causing you to stop and give him a rather rushed and fake smile.

“N-No no! No panic attacks here! I don't know what you're talking about Fred!” You reply, still frantically trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. “Gotta go check in on some of the staff bots! See ya!” You reply before quickly moving away from Freddy and out of the janitor's closet, leaving the bear still down on one knee and completely stunned by the whole interaction. Was it something he said?

After that ‘terrifying’, at least in your mind, interaction you head towards an out of place little hallway, shaking all the way there and trying to catch your breath. Freddy hadn't done anything scary persay but just being that close to that big of an animatronic scared the absolute shit out of you. Again you question how the hell you're going to do this job if you can't even get close to these robots without having a panic attack. Letting out a sigh you let your back fall against a nearby wall, sliding down it until your butt hits the ground. Should you just quit now? You'd been able to handle taking care of the simpler robots around the place but maybe that's just because they're closer to the size of normal people and unable to really do what the main four could. Sighing once again you put your head in your knees, trying to calm yourself down so you can go back out and actually do your job.

Just then you hear the familiar sound of an animatronic as they walk, getting closer and closer. Your head pops up immediately, eyes landing on the relatively short form of Chica, who thankfully is around the same size as a typical human female being the shortest of the group. Before you can protest the chicken comes and sits down next to you, smiling warmly at you.

“Hiya rock chick! Freddy told me what happened. I figured I'd try to find you and see if I could help ya out!” The chicken says cheerfully, You sit there nervously eyeing her and she eventually puts two and two together. “Would it help if I move away a bit, sweetie? I don't want to scare you or cause you more anxiety.” She explains, your look of confusion at what she says answers quite a few of her questions without you even having to say a word. The chicken moves away a bit, sitting with her legs closed and to one side. “Look sweetie. I'm not sure what we've done to scare you but none of us are out to get you. We just want to make sure you're okay. Freddy is worried sick about you and is convinced he did something wrong.” She explains, earning a confused look from you once again. You can't get over just how lifelike these beings are. They're unlike literally anything you've worked on before and they seem to have their own thoughts and feelings. Biting your lip nervously you try desperately to think of something to say to her, feeling kinda bad for worrying Freddy like this. Though to be fair you weren't even aware he could actually worry like this.

“You don't have to talk if you don't want to Rock Chick. I don't want to make this any more scary for you.” Chica states, keeping her movements slow and visible while monitoring your heart rate and breathing. “I do want to know though. Did we cause this in some way? You can just shake or nod your head if you want.” She explains, smiling when you shake your head no in reply. “Oh good. I was scared maybe Monty did something that freaked you out, or Roxy. I love her but she can be so blunt sometimes.” She rambles, which surprisingly is actually helping to calm you down. Despite knowing Chica is an animatronic she's actually extremely like a normal human in size and personality, like a bubbly friend who loves to talk. “Is it the whole size thing? Seems to make the parents a bit nervous too.” She continues, pausing to see if you'll shake your head in reply which you eventually do, a nod to be exact though the size thing isn't the only thing about them that scares you.

“I-Its a lot of things….” You manage, Chica playfully gasping in response.

“It speaks! Well I can't say I blame you for being nervous Rock Chick. Those boys make even me nervous sometimes. Especially when Monty gets angry and messes up his room. I think that would scare anyone. We really don't mean any harm though…..well me and Freddy don't. He's just a big teddy bear…..and I don't think Roxy or Monty do either, they're just difficult sometimes.” She replies, still smiling warmly to try and reassure you. “It's totally okay to take a while to get over this too Rock Chick. But I'm happy to help however I can!” She finishes, smile still bright as the sun. She puts a hand out for you, waiting for you to make a move to actually grab it. She doesn't have the sharp claws like the others do and her hand more or less just looks like a humans for the most part, like you can still tell she's an animatronic but at least they tried to make her more human like. You pause, staring at her hand for a few moments while she patiently waits to see if you're willing to take it. Eventually, albeit hesitantly, you put your shaky hand into hers and the happy little smile that she gives you when you do makes you smile a bit in response. How could you not? She just seems so happy that you actually gave her some trust.

“There you go sweetheart! Well done, I'm so proud of you!” She praises, making you blush a bit in the process. “Awe, you're so cute when you blush! You should do it more often, cupcake. Do you want to come hang out in my green room so you can calm down? We can get you some sweets and have some girl time hm?” She suggests, causing you to pause for a moment. You're worried about being seen by the others but are hoping maybe Chica will send them a message and tell them to leave you be for a bit, actually the chicken thought to do just that as soon as you nodded your head in response to her question. She bounces happily before carefully standing and starting to help you up. “Yay! Let's get to it, Rock Chick!” She states happily before beginning to lead you back towards rockstar row and to her room.

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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I had this idea soely bc of Wednesday on netflix: Mitsuri x a rather unexpressionable, cold, and blunt reader who ended up being roomates in a Modern AU. Kinda like enemies to friends to lovers because of how unintentionally rude the reader is to Mitsuri after finding out she had to room with a touchy and bubbly muti-colored haired woman. And maybe they fall in-love with eachother when reader defends Mitsuri from a rather rude student with their harsh words?

Woe-oh the Misery

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader Modern AU

A/N: I really liked this idea. I finished Wednesday a couple weeks ago and I thought it was pretty good! Unfortunately I couldn’t get a lot of enemies storyline in here because I’m trying to make my stuff not so long. Hope it’s still acceptable, thanks for reading! Word Count: 4,864

Mitsuri had been so excited for the beginning of the new semester. A fresh start at a new university, new room, new roommate. She could hardly wait! She even arrived a few days early to settle in and decorate her side of the room.

She fluffed her pillows and straightened her mountain of fuzzy blankets and plushies. Her roommate could be coming at any time today! Mitsuri could honestly say she knew nothing about the girl other than her name. She had tried looking her up on all the usual social media sites to try to connect before the semester began, but her search yielded absolutely nothing.

That didn’t bother Mitsuri too much. She found it admirable that her future roomie didn’t have a social media presence. Sometimes Mitsuri wanted to throw her phone out of the window, but then how else would she see all the cute and colorful things she liked? Gain affirmations and praise for her art and cute outfits? It was just too bad that there were also mean-spirited people that came around to try to negate those kind words.

Mitsuri had just straightened one of her frilly heart pillows for the twelfth time when she heard a thump and the door begin to rattle. She was so excited, Mitsuri didn’t know what to do with herself. All of how she had planned to introduce herself escaped her brain entirely.

The door swung out and Mitsuri nearly went out with it, a bright smile accompanying her glittering eyes. She braced herself against the doorframe with both hands on either side, leaning out into the hall, she came face to face with her new roommate.

“Howdy, roomie!” She nearly squealed, wiggling excitedly.

Her roommate’s stunned silence was enough to give Mitsuri a moment of pause and actually take in her appearance.

She was… very monochrome.

“You are exceedingly colorful, simply looking at you burns. I think you may permanently damage my retinas. Excuse me.”

Mitsuri blinked, then slowly stepped aside to allow her roommate, (Y/n), inside. She watched (Y/n) survey her side of the room, biting her inner lip when when she saw the muted look of displeasure that came over (Y/n)’s otherwise emotionless face.

“And decor to match… horrifying.”

“Do you need help bringing your stuff in? I’m pretty strong.” Mitsuri flexed jokingly, but (Y/n) looked unamused.

“Touch my belongings without my explicit consent, and you may have your muscles peeled from your bones. Some of these artifacts are quite temperamental.”

Mitsuri wisely hung back after that comment and instead watched from the sidelines as (Y/n) brought her belongings in. Everything (Y/n) owned seemed to be black, white, or some shade of grey.

“Looks like I’m not the only matching one.” Mitsuri smiled shyly. This was a bit of an uncomfortable introduction, but maybe (Y/n) was just having a bad day, or she was anxious around new people. Mitsuri could understand that. They could still be friends!

“Yes. I prefer these as they are not a total assault on the senses.” (Y/n) replied bluntly. “Perhaps I should invest in two curtains. One to block the sun from that oversized window, and another to obscure your side of the room.”

Okay, laying it on a little too thick there…

Mitsuri shook her head. She was going to make this work! She stepped forward, arms outstretched,

“Well, I’m glad you’re here! Welcome new bestie!”

Before Mitsuri could completely envelop (Y/n) in her arms, the monochromatic girl took a step back, her fingertips pressed high against Mitsuri’s chest to keep her from following through.

“Hug me, and that may just be the last thing you ever do.” She warned in a soft monotone. Almost like a buzzing of an angry bee.

“O-oh… kay.”

Mitsuri slowly lowered her arms and then (Y/n) lowered her own hand in turn.

“I must unpack the rest of my belongings. I think I will start with mounting my katana collection on the wall. If you are as loud as the colors you wear, we may have,” she half-unsheathed a sword to check the sharpness of the blade, “to correct that.” She then fully sheathed the katana again with a click that made Mitsuri flinch.

Mitsuri was almost certain weapons like that were not allowed on campus, but she didn’t feel safe enough at the moment to tell (Y/n) that.

“I’ll just, um, leave you to it then…” Mitsuri fiddled with the end of one of her braids. Maybe just one more attempt at being friendly? “Would you like to get dinner at the cafeteria together after?”

Mitsuri did not receive a reply. Instead (Y/n) kept her back to her as she began nailing a rack to the wall beside her bed. Mitsuri knew that was also against the university’s dorm policies, but she doubted (Y/n) cared.

“Okay… good talk.” Mitsuri decided to grab her ID and her phone to go eat dinner early before the dining room got too crowded. Maybe (Y/n) would be a little more relaxed once she got all settled in. She stopped just before closing the door, keeping her head inside the room, but giving herself enough cover that she could quickly dodge any pointy projectiles.

“See you later, roomie.”

“Begone already, harbinger of glitter and pink. Do not tease me with your impending departure so.” (Y/n) drawled, giving Mitsuri a dismissive flick of her hammer before continuing on.

Mitsuri closed the door and briefly rested her back against the wood with a disappointed frown.

This new chapter in her life was already not quite going how she had imagined it would. She could only hope (Y/n) would come around eventually, but for now… Mitsuri clenched her fists, determined. For now, she would do her best to really put herself out there and make some friends.

***

And Mitsuri did manage to make a few friends over those first couple weeks. She met Kyoujirou at a free Zumba lesson and they got along very quickly, soon becoming workout buddies. They would meet up for free class events at least three times a week, always texting photos of flyers they would find around campus. And of course they always had to go out to eat afterwards, so they were always looking for the poor college student deals for meals as well. The community learned to fear those two when they would come in together.

Then she had met Shinobu in the bookstore. Shinobu had helped her figure out how to find her books and they realized that they shared a class and both were planning on joining the bee keeping club. Though Shinobu was interested in the science of entomology, Mitsuri shyly admitted that though the bees were cute, she was more interested in the honey they’d get to bring home. Shinobu chuckled, assuring her that it was just as valid a reason as any.

She met Obanai during a late breakfast one day. Since the cafeteria was crowded, she asked to sit with him. He reminded her a bit of her roommate in monochrome, only he at least made attempts to be friendly despite his obvious discomfort. Mitsuri had been embarrassed for not realizing it sooner, but he had also been the one to help her navigate through the arts building when she was one more wrong turn away from openly sobbing. He had helped her find her classroom before she could be late.

Now if only she could get along with her gloomy and macabre roommate. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t get along. That would imply more antagonism and contempt than there really was. (Y/n) could be blunt and rude at times, but she was mostly quiet and respectful of Mitsuri’s space.

Except for that one time Mitsuri had been accidentally listening to K-pop without headphones. She thought that (Y/n) was genuinely going to kill her there for a second, but she simply glared at her (more intensely than usual) from her side of the room. That could have been because of her aversion to color, but Mitsuri wasn’t entirely convinced that (Y/n) wasn’t a vampire and could only come to her side of the room if invited. But honestly, that possibility didn’t scare Mitsuri, what did disturb her was that (Y/n) didn’t like Twice. Who didn’t like Twice!? Regardless, Mitsuri believed (Y/n) must be nice under all of her, um, spookinesses.

Even though weeks had passed since the semester had started, Mitsuri couldn’t find it in herself to give up on becoming friends with (Y/n). She made sure to give her a wide berth, but she still tried to forge a connection between them.

“I think it’s really cool how good you are with swords. Do you think you could teach me something about them sometime?”

“I haven’t the time nor desire.”

“I heard there is a scary movie marathon on the student-run television station this weekend. It’s not really my thing… but I’d watch it with you if you want!”

“The fake gore disappoints me.”

Attempt after attempt, olive branch after olive branch, but (Y/n) didn’t bite. Well, she did threaten to on the couple of occasions that Mitsuri forgot that (Y/n) didn’t like to be touched. She just couldn’t help it sometimes! Not when (Y/n) looked so much like a grumpy kitten!

Her friends had told her on numerous occasions to give up on her already, but that just didn’t sit right with Mitsuri. She continued to talk to (Y/n), even if she said nothing in return, and she kept inviting her to tag along to various parties and events until one day, she was actually taken up on an offer.

“Hey, I need to find old stuff to make a sculpture for a class. There is this creepy antique shop nearby that I’m not too excited to visit for supplies, but I think you’d like it so will you come with me? Make sure I don’t get cursed?” She half joked.

(Y/n) peered at Mitsuri over the worn book she had been reading, and Mitsuri was surprised when (Y/n) closed the tome and set it aside.

“It’s been awhile since I had a good curse thrust upon me. I can’t have any wasted on you, so I suppose I’ll accompany you just this once.”

“Really?” Mitsuri beamed.

“Dim yourself before I change my mind.” (Y/n) warned, shielding her eyes as if she were looking at the sun.

“Sorry!” Mitsuri shrunk back a bit, chagrined.

“Don’t apologize. Just,” (Y/n) sighed softer than a passing breeze. She presented her open hand and slowly lowered her fingers to her thumb, “You tend to talk loudly. It rattles my brain and although not entirely unpleasant, it makes people stare at you more than they already do, and when people stare, I find myself wishing to gouge out their eyes. Regretfully, going to prison would interfere with my four year plan timeline. You understand.”

“Yeah,” Mitsuri smiled worriedly, a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek, “totally.”

“Lead the way then.”

(Y/n) followed Mitsuri down the sidewalk, listening to her blabber away about her classes, bee keeping and the like. Her voice fluctuated in volume when she got particularly excited or remembered a ‘juicy’ detail pertaining to whatever story she chose fit to retell. If it bothered (Y/n), she kept it to herself, but if anyone so much as looked at Mitsuri the wrong way, (Y/n) sent deathwaves in their direction.

Ordinarily, (Y/n) couldn’t care less about the people around her. In fact, the less she had to interact with them the better. Mitsuri was becoming a startling outlier however. Yes, she had vibrant hair and an even brighter personality, but she was also sickeningly sweet and wore her heart on her sleeve.

A terrible place to wear one’s heart. Too easily accessible. Too easy to be stabbed, broiled, eaten… that was why (Y/n) had taken it upon herself to keep Mitsuri from harm, as best as she could anyhow. She still wasn’t exactly used to the whole, ugh, ‘caring’ thing and to be honest she was disgusted with herself for even making an effort.

But Mitsuri’s warmth was something that needed to be protected.

It is the duty of the strong to protect the sweet.

Well, Mitsuri was plenty strong on her own, but for her to use that strength in a fit of violence was apparently inconceivable to the girl. Which was a shame because (Y/n) had determined that it would be quite possible for Mitsuri to crush a human skull between her thighs. Why had she determined such a thing? Anyone dare ask and they would find themselves mummifying in a bog.

“Oh my gosh, it’s even creepier up close!” Mitsuri whined, causing (Y/n) to tune back in to the world around her.

The antique shop looked as if it was an antique itself. It almost didn’t look like it should be in business at all, but the dusty open sign on the door suggested otherwise.

“Are we going in, or not?”

“Can, could you go first maybe? Please?”

(Y/n) sighed inwardly before stepping forward. A little bell chimed the moment she opened the door. She walked inside with Mitsuri following close behind.

“Good afternoon!” The elderly woman, (because of course an elderly woman would be running the antique shop) called. “If you have any questions, just yell. Hearings’ not what it used to be.”

“Thank you!” Mitsuri smiled shyly before tentatively moving about the dusty store.

(Y/n) followed, reguarding the items they passed with muted interest. Most of it looked like trash to her, but there were some promising looking items.

Mitsuri suddenly yelped and staggered back, tripping on an uneven floorboard. She braced herself to hit the ground, but instead she was caught. Looking up, she found (Y/n)’s unamused eyes boring into her. She stared back, frozen.

“I will drop you if you continue to make no effort to right yourself.” (Y/n) warned in a soft tone that sent a shiver up and down Mitsuri’s spine.

For a moment, Mitsuri assumed it was a response based in fear, but her face felt too warm for that to be the case. She quickly apologized and stood on her own once more.

“What disturbed you?” (Y/n) asked, peering behind Mitsuri.

“Look there, isn’t that so sad?”

Mitsuri pointed at a nearby shelf of several taxidermied creatures depicting an array of puns. It made (Y/n) shudder. Puns.

“How gauche.”

“The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

So they continued on through the creepy little shop of curiosities. Mitsuri did find some things for her sculpture, more than she could carry. She was surprised when (Y/n) took the pile from her arms.

“I will bring these to the front. Don’t touch anything until I get back.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

Mitsuri watched (Y/n) go, then went back to perusing the shelves. She went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the shop. It had looked so much smaller on the outside…

“Another creepy death display… what is with this place?” Mitsuri shivered.

In the dark corner of the store, where the air was noticeably thicker, lights the dimmest they had been yet, there was a glass display case with various bugs pinned inside. It was unsettling, and something that Mitsuri would ordinarily quickly scuttle around, but she continued to look, even daring to step closer.

“Maybe this would be something Shinobu would be interested in.” She reached her hand out for the display, only to have her hand snatched away in the grasp of another, nearly making her scream until she registered the familiar black nail polish.

“Was I not clear when I told you not to touch anything while I was gone?” (Y/n) asked, pulling Mitsuri further away from the display.

“Y-yeah, but—“

(Y/n) let go off Mitsuri’s hand, almost drawing a whine from her due to the loss. She moved to stand to the side of the display and began listing off what she saw.

“White moths, black butterflies, scarabs, notably dead,” she turned to Mitsuri briefly, “an important distinction, I assure you. A bee pinned to a sliver of rotted wood, locusts, and most on the nose, a deathwatch beetle. Do you know what these represent, Kanroji?”

“Um…” Mitsuri’s face couldn’t have been warmer. She felt like she had just been cold called in class.

“They are omens of misfortune and death.”

The warmth Mitsuri had felt upon (Y/n)’s touch plummeted to freezing. She went from pink to pale in a matter of seconds.

“You asked me to make sure you didn’t get cursed on this outing. Do not act in a way that will cause me to fail.” (Y/n) glared. She took hold of Mitsuri’s wrist and looped her around the bend in the shelves, away from the dark corner.

It was a little harder to shake off the folklore lesson and continue on as they had been. But Mitsuri did find a few more things she wanted to use. She did however, cautiously point at items from then on. Her eyes big and a tad fearful as she waited for (Y/n)’s verdict.

When they finally returned to the front of the store, the old woman looked vaguely annoyed and was not nearly as pleasant as she had seemed when they first entered. She roughly bagged the purchases and sent them on their way.

“What was her problem?” Mitsuri frowned upon the door’s exiting chime.

“Probably upset that she’s failed to live her “Needful Things” fantasy. I’ll have to admit, she did have a few items I would have liked for my own collection. Perhaps I’ll return on a later date.”

“Please don’t.” Mitsuri hugged (Y/n)’s arm to her, “Let’s promise to forget that place exists, please?”

(Y/n) looked down at her arm and Mitsuri’s encircling it. A disgusting fluttering erupted in her chest and she stiffly pulled herself away. The chill that enveloped her arm at Mitsuri’s absence was like that of her family crypt but not at all pleasant.

“Fine.” She tersely agreed. Why would she agree to any of Mitsuri’s silly requests? She felt weird. And again, not a good weird.

“Thank goodness.” Mitsuri sighed in relief, “Now let’s get away from here.”

(Y/n) leaves with Mitsuri, thinking that old hag might have snuck a curse upon her somehow.

***

“I can’t believe my art will actually get to be in the exhibition!” Mitsuri excitedly told Obanai. “Freshman pieces are almost never chosen!”

“I’m happy for you Mitsuri. I know you’ve worked hard on it and I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so secretive about for the past month.” Obanai said, a hint of a teasing tone coming through while his gaze turned to his feet as they walked.

He knew everything about painting except for the painting itself. Mitsuri had often vented and fretted over the work in progress to Shinobu, Kyoujirou and Obanai himself, but refused to actually describe what she was trying to depict. Something that drove Shinobu crazy in particular.

“I couldn’t just tell you what I was doing, that would ruin the impact of actually seeing it in person!” Mitsuri defended.

Her mind had been occupied by a certain ooky kooky roommate ever since a certain trip to a-place-never-to-be-brought-up-again. Those thoughts had bled into her most current project. Understandably, just the thought of telling anyone that she thought of her roommate so much that her painting was inspired by her made Mitsuri flustered. No one should be able to come to that conclusion from simply looking at it at least.

Speak of the devil, a dark figure caught Mitsuri’s eye against the colorful backdrop of fallen leaves and she lit up. It was so rare to see her roommate actually out and about, and in broad daylight no less!

Fueled by the excitement of her good news, she ran to catch up with (Y/n), pleasantly surprised that (Y/n) had stopped and turned around when she called out to her.

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri couldn’t stop herself from grasping (Y/n)‘s cold hand in hers, “My professor asked to show one of my paintings at the next student gallery coming up. I would really appreciate it if you’d stopped by to take a look. Will you come?”

(Y/n) deliberately pulled her hand away from Mitsuri’s and gave her the same blank stare she always did, though not nearly as piercing as the girl would have liked, “I prefer the work of tortured artists. Ask me again when you are wrought with delirium and plagued with visions of death.” She said before walking away.

Mitsuri had to admit, that one hurt. She thought she was finally getting passed (Y/n)’s frigid crypt doors.

“She’s rude.” Obanai clicked his tongue, glaring at (Y/n)’s back as she walked away, “I don’t know why you even bother with her. Kochou is right, if she acts like this, it’s no wonder why she doesn’t have any friends.”

Except she didn’t feel cold to Mitsuri, she never really did. Even when she glared at Mitsuri, there was a certain softness there, hiding just below the surface. Beneath the thorns, threats, fire and brimstone, (Y/n) had a good heart. Mitsuri just knew.

It was disappointing that (Y/n) didn’t want to go to her art show, but Mitsuri understood. She knew (Y/n) well enough that a bright room filled with people was not something she would willingly subject herself to.

“She’s not bad.” Mitsuri told him, continuing in the direction of the campus coffee shop, “She’s really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” Obanai subtlety rolled his eyes as he opened the door for Mitsuri.

I’m serious.” Mitsuri smiled to herself, “She’s actually kind of sweet in her own way.”

***

Mitsuri was low key freaking out.

The gallery was opening in only a few minutes and it was only that morning that she learned that she was expected to stand beside her piece and answer questions about her artist statement to curious visitors.

She had already botched the statement by not being completely honest about her inspiration and what the painting represented to her, it would be harder to lie straight to peoples’ faces!

Mitsuri swiped the warm sweat from beneath her bangs as people slowly began filtering into the room.

Fortunately, most people seemed content to take a quick look and move on to the next work. Kyoujirou, Shinobu and Obanai also came by to keep her company for awhile and admire her painting. Shinobu did give her a bit of a hard time with her teasing questions, but overall things were going smoothly. A couple people even asked if she would consider selling the painting, but she turned them down. There was already someone she wanted to give it to.

“Are you kidding me?”

The sudden sharp voice that cut through the gentle music playing within the gallery made Mitsuri flinch. She turned to look behind her to see an unwelcome sight.

Before her was a small group, the leader was noticeably one of the upperclassman from her art class. She had always kind of given Mitsuri a hard time, but after she found out that Mitsuri’s art would be showcased over her own, she had gotten worse.

“You really used water color as the medium? What do you think this is, kindergarten?” Her lackeys snickered around her, making Mitsuri shrink back.

“Water color is as beautiful and meaningful a medium as any other.” Mitsuri defended, though her body language was far from confident. If only Kyoujirou, Obanai or Shinobu were still meandering around!

“That spot should be mine,” the woman glowered, her underlings brought attention to the covered canvas carried between them, “so take that off of the wall and get out of my way, okay? I’m taking my spot.”

“I…” Mitsuri pursed her lips and looked down at her feet.

What good would it do to argue? The gallery would be open for another two hours. She really didn’t think she could stand her ground for that long, she didn’t want to. She should just take her things and go…

“Too slow.” The woman reached her hand out to take the painting down herself. She certainly didn’t look like she would be gentle about it either.

But her hand was quickly snatched up, bent at a painful looking angle by a hand with black colored nails.

“Don’t you know you are not permitted to touch the masterpieces on exhibit, or are you really that moronic?”

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri clasped her hands to her chest, eyes gleaming.

(Y/n)’s eyes found hers, keeping her tight hold on the upperclassman’s awkwardly bent hand, she gave Mitsuri a slow blink of acknowledgment before stepping closer to the upperclassman, further bending her hand backwards.

“Ow! Let go of me, freak!”

“I can make this so much more worse for you, believe me.”

Mitsuri swallowed thickly. How did (Y/n) manage to frown in such away that it almost looked like a smile in the right light?

One of the upperclassman’s goons tried to push (Y/n) away, but her other hand shot out, a small knife glinting in the light forced the goon back with a fearful yelp.

When (Y/n) was sure they would not step up again, she leveled the blade with the upperclassman’s face.

“You want to be recognized for your trash so badly? It may help to cut of a phalange or too,” she lightly skimmed the knife against their cheek,” perhaps an earlobe?”

“Let me go,” the upperclassman’s eyes were fearful “let me go, I’ll leave! I promise I’ll leave!”

“Apologize for your insolence.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Not me, her.” (Y/n)’s eyes flickered to Mitsuri who was still standing dumbstruck by the display before her. How was no one else seeing this?

“I’m sorry! So, so sorry!” The upperclassman yelped again.

Seemingly satisfied, (Y/n) let her go. The upperclassman stumbled back into her lackeys, into her canvas as well, bending it, then they all fled the gallery together, only looking back to make sure (Y/n) wasn’t chasing them.

The knife disappeared up (Y/n)’s sleeve as she turned to face Mitsuri fully. There were a lot of things Mitsuri thought to say, but ultimately they only two words she could push through her lips were,

“You came.”

“I just happened to be in the area.” (Y/n) informed, looking elsewhere until her eyes caught sight of Mitsuri’s painting. She moved in for a closer look.

The canvas was about a square foot in size. In the foreground, there was a branch mostly bare, save for a few sparse clusters of petals. Cherry blossoms if (Y/n) were to guess. The detail was exquisite and the branch almost seemed to leap off of the page, but perhaps more prominent focal point of the piece was the black raven perched on one of the thicker limbs. It’s beak was nuzzled against one of the clusters of blossoms, it’s eye stared into the painting’s viewer, as if warning them away from the sparse blossoms, protecting them from scattering too early.

“It’s ah,” (Y/n) flinched minutely at Mitsuri’s voice, “probably too plain, huh?”

“Not at all.” She disagreed. “Don’t belittle yourself in my presence. Don’t belittle yourself at all, because I will find out and I will punish you accordingly.”

“Okay!” Mitsuri squeaked.

They stood quietly side by side while people moved around them to other exhibits. After a long moment of silence, (Y/n) spoke again,

“I have deduced that you are the sakura blossoms, but what does the raven represent. You seem vague about it in your statement.”

Mitsuri’s face grew pinker as she tried to find a tactful way to answer. She hadn’t expected (Y/n) to come, she had hoped to tell her in the safety and privacy of their dorm room.

“You don’t need to tell me if it distresses you, but I do enjoy watching you squirm.”

That only made Mitsuri blush more furiously, made her brain spin and stomach flip-flop. When another barely there smile graced (Y/n)’s face once more, Mitsuri became completely unintelligible.

Finally Mitsuri took her own painting off of the wall and thrust it into (Y/n)’s hands before hiding her face behind her fingers.

“For you.” She said hurriedly.

(Y/n) cocked her head to the side and looked down at the painting in its new angle.

“Really?”

Mitsuri nodded, face still covered. Which was a shame, because she missed the bashful expression that crossed (Y/n)’s face for all of two seconds.

“I know just where I’ll hang it up in our room then. Thank you. However, the event has not yet ended, so let’s keep it here for now.”

(Y/n) spoke so softly that Mitsuri lowered her hands to reveal a small smile that only grew the longer (Y/n) stayed beside her.

“Are you keeping me company?”

“I suppose. This is mostly as a precaution to make sure no other entitled fools try anything.”

Mitsuri stood a little closer then. Close enough to brush against (Y/n)’s arm. It wasn’t to hug she wanted to give her, but in a public place like this it seemed more appropriate for someone as reserved as (Y/n). But the slight pressure still made her heart race because (Y/n) pressed back and held the position.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri x reader #asks #anonymous

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nightgoodomens · 4 months

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Do you think there's a big mystery to play out, clues and all, hidden in the last 15 minutes or did Aziraphale actually want to return to Heaven? The fandom is messing with my brain on this regard

I’m not 100% sure to be fair.

When I watched S2 ending for the first time so without any fandom influence I basically went well, no surprise, Aziraphale has always been naive in his belief in Heaven (if he didn’t learn over 6 thousand years no matter what has been happening then what were we meant to expect?) so zero shock that he ran there forgetting everything they have done - just like he wasn’t suspicious of Gabriel at all and dissed Crowley’s logical concerns - he’s always been shown to be very naive after all.

When this last scene started playing out I was just crossing my fingers that Crowley won’t follow him. So I wasn’t even upset, I was relieved that Crowley stayed true to his character and NG didn’t turn it into a toxic fest.

I always appreciated that while NG showed Crowley and Aziraphale loving each other, they never disrespected themselves for the sake of the other one. Crowley especially always knows when to leave.

But after looking a little more into it - the things I can’t get out of my head are:

1. Aziraphale keeps on looking towards the window

2. Aziraphale being nervous - and it doesn’t make sense that he’s nearly jumping there in excitement even though he’s been shown leaving Metatron with a face of fear and like his brain is working overtime how to figure it all out

3. Why the fuck is he so surprised when Crowley starts confessing to him when he spent the last few days trying to make them confess to each other?

4. Now the absolute shite that came out of his mouth - I’m conflicted because he said stupid things before so I wouldn’t be surprised however that was a lot of stupidity in just a few mins - but! - he was also shown to be a bratty ass when he doesn’t get his way so…

5. Oh but! There is the moment where he learns it is all a Second Coming plan and his face turns into “oh shit I was wrong and did indeed fucked up” as he looks at Crowley which makes me think he was being a naive idiot after all - no wonder he looks like he’s having a mental breakdown in that lift. He loves Crowley, and yet the fool forgave him when he kissed him. And then realised he did it because Metatron manipulated him with three nice words. Fuck. I’d be losing it too. I actually hope he realises how many times he hurt Crowley because he was being naive and now this was the moment when it finally came back to bite him in the ass.

So generally, if it turned out that no Aziraphale is simply still a bit of an idiot and NG needed to separate them so Aziraphale can face the music without Crowley’s protection and finally learn (like NG said before, he has learning to do) then I will understand. If there is something more at play… maybe. The only theory I sort of think might be true is the one with time. Maybe they had to go back and fix things for some reason, something like that.

#NightGoodOmens answers

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love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward · 8 months

Text

look guys there's something weird as HELL going on with aziraphale. all three minisodes we saw gave us an insight on how his brain works and his beliefs and everything and how it leads to him making the choices he's made. right.

crowley said something weird has been going on before the attack and we know he has a sixth sense for these things but WHAT IS IT.

i think i REALLY REALLY THINK there's going to be flashbacks to season 2 scenes in s3 and we'll get context and ohhh moments. like.

1. at the mystic shop crowley puts his cap on a snake. maybe just a sneaky nod to how he was wearing a cap but maybe something more?

2. i think the way metatron says "how predictable" and when he says "are you going to take it" so deliberately. they're huge huge clues i think. i feel like the metabitch knows something i dont which pisses me off.

3. i dont understand why the job scene was shot a little different to other ones and also why crowley and aziraphale sounded so different from the scene chronologically before and after that we see in s1. except maybe the seaside bit the whole thing was. definitely odd. and its also mentioned again and again and again. biggest question i have and also one of the biggest foreshadowing in the show is the job quote from the matchbox. what is that WHY IS THAT.

will we realise parts of the job scene were fake or left out and see in s3 how the line was relevant.

4. WHAT does metatron want from aziraphale sooo badly that he went to the trouble of going through his entire earth file and carefully construct manipulation plans a through to z to convince aziraphale to come up.

unless he was unnerved that they together blocked gabriel from him and left him in the dark while actively trying not to do something powerful and he wants armageddon 2 so he can destroy earth because he's the bad guy. and he cant even feasibly start on that as long as aziraphale and crowley are together/friends/as long as, metaphorically, the bookshop is theirs.

(the bookshop wasn't 'theirs' by the time crowley left i think. they'd sort of mentally given up on that which is why at the end muriel could enter without permission i think. if the south downs thing ends up being canon then maybe the bookshop will be destroyed for real because otherwise at the end they would end up at the bookshop)

5. look one of the most terrible thing in the whole ep6 was aziraphale not paying any attention to crowley in the beginning of the confession. he's really really flustered and there's a heartwrenching theme of him staring out of the window. he's absolutely terrified of the metatron seeing them and half his mind is on him.

aaaaaghhhh losing my fucking mind. you could almost hear the quote about the straightforward love life when crowley looks at nina and maggie. that feels like a conclusion kind of? like a really happy ending just like beelzebub and gabriel had. they're both good and loved. which is why i dont feel like we'll be seeing them majorly again... maybe we will i hope we will but idk. there's.

season 2 was soft gentle romantic definitely but it was also a sherlock holmes level of mystery. except we're at the start of the story when holmes doesn't get all the facts to solve the mystery.

also random not plot related questions.

why does the sandwich woman blink so much in the seamstress scene and why does aziraphale blink so little during the last lift scene. these probably dont mean anything other than the womans mascara got in her eye or something

how does the bentley play classical music which doesnt change for aziraphale but doesn't do that for crowley? is it love i hope its love

why does aziraphale's face do something odd when he leaves crowley to talk to nina ep5? or am i reading too much into it? he was very forthcoming with the rest but with nina he was sort of quiet (?) and reserved and went away looking uncomfortable.

why did aziraphale want so badly to drive crowleys car? was it meaningful or connecting to him? i know a lot of people say the dont hesitate to ask me any questions about love scene was aziraphale giving crowley horny eyes but i thought he seemed itching and really eager to get the keys? why does he want them sooo desperately. i don't fully understand their relationship which makes me WANT TO. what happens to a person when they spend six thousand years with their only friend and companion being a hereditary enemy, watching every single thing they do?

also why was he willing to give away a book and bribe out a book for the meeting? seems overboard for someone who doesn't really seem to think about heaven checking on nina and maggie. i think tbh it had less to do with heaven's suspicions than aziraphale being the kind of person who would love an excuse to host a night of dancing and food and love (mood) and he even got to participate by dancing with the demon he loves instead of just watching! (though i suspect he really likes that as well). hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

guys the brain rot has set in someone tell me im not imagining things

#i dont expect these questions to be answered before s3 tbh #but in the words of a certain red haired demon #but just to be able to ask the question #anyway #this'll probably be ignored by other people but its nice to keep all my thoughts about the show in one place instead of just my head #gonna add on later if i feel like it #good omens #crowley #aziraphale

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adibkhorram · 2 months

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Dear Mr Khorram,

I recently read one of your books, Darius the Great Is Not Okay, and I’m so glad that I did. I had heard talk of the book floating around and I never knew why, but now that I’ve read it, I’m incredibly grateful that I did. Reading about Darius’ experience with his culture, his family, and his depression hit me right in the heart, as I have gone through very similar things. Seeing someone else go through things that I’ve gone through makes me feel so much less alone, and even if it’s still hard, I know that it’s a feeling that I can share with others.

Originally, I read this book as a way to look into another perspective, a type of ‘window,’ but the more I read, the more I saw myself in Darius. I understand how he feels when his father seems disappointed in him all the time for things he can’t control, because I’ve been through that too. My parents don’t always understand that sometimes the best I can do is just getting up and staying awake. Being excluded from the group, dealing with bullies that target you for things you don’t have control over, and struggling to understand what you’re supposed to do when you’re around others isn’t too far from home. It made me sad to realize that Darius and myself had gone through very similar situations.

More than that, I saw myself in Darius’ experience trying to connect with his culture. My family comes from many different places, and I’ve never been as connected as I’d like to be. I didn’t even know about part of my heritage until I was older, since my parents never talked about it. The lack of knowledge made me feel like I couldn’t really claim the culture as my own. Darius’ hesitancy to engage in things and his uncertainty about how to talk with other people in Iran, felt like someone had taken my anxieties right out of my brain and put them onto a page, just with a different background. It makes sense that plenty of people feel that way, especially when you’re the child of an immigrant, but it still was very special to see that struggle represented.

The thing that was maybe most impactful to me was Darius’ connection with his grandfather. I lost my grandfather around a year ago, and since he lived in Germany, I didn’t get to see him as much as I would have liked. I also had to leave knowing that I wouldn’t get to visit my grandfather again, and I’ll admit that I cried a bit reading that part of the book. Losing someone is always hard, but knowing that you won’t be able to go visit them again hurts. Losing someone hurts even more when it feels like you haven’t had enough time with them. The way that you talked about Darius’ feelings hit me right in the gut, and I still haven’t fully gotten over it.

Darius’ story was a reflection of mine in so many ways, and I’m forever grateful that I took the chance and read your book. It was a book that I will probably think about for some time to come. Darius’ struggles with his mental health, with connecting to his culture, and with knowing that he won’t get to see his grandfather again all painted a very realistic portrait of teenage life, and I’m glad that I read the book. Congratulations on your newest book! I hope to hear back from you. It would be awesome to get a ‘letter’ back from an author I admire, and my teacher promised me extra credit points if I got a response back, although I was not expecting this to be done through a tumblr ask.

Sincerely,

Tobie

Hi Tobie,

Thank you so much for your lovely message. I'm so honored you saw yourself in Darius's story, and I hope it was a balm to you through your own rough times. I wrote it for folks who feel like you do—and like I do too, tbh.

I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather passing away. Mine are both long gone, but I think of them often, especially my Iranian one, who went through so much in his life but, in his later years, was more content than maybe any person I've ever known. He would sit on the porch of my aunt's house (where he lived), looking at the garden and the sunlight, and say "Khaylee khoob" (very good) to himself.

I hope you're taking care of yourself as best you can. And I hope, like Darius, you find the people that love you for who you are.

Yours,

Adib

#darius the great is not okay #ask adib #my emotions

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singularattitudeofasafetypin · 2 years

Text

Meet Me in the Pouring Rain

Masterlist

Summary: Hawkins has had a heatwave for weeks on end, when it finally rains, Eddie and reader dance in the storm.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none.

A/N: I think this is a drabble? I'm not actually sure what constitutes one but it's fairly short and there's little to no plot. Also, if you squint, I was vaguely influenced by this scene from The West Wing. Idk I just really like thunderstorms and got this idea in my head, so I wrote it! I hope you enjoy!

Please don't copy my work!

The sun beat down on Hawkins. Exhausted residents cowered in their homes; windows flung open in a futile attempt to cool them down. The streets were deserted, shops closed early, not a single car on the roads, even the local pool was all but empty. After almost a month of muggy, baking heat, no one had any energy for anything!

It could have been a ghost town.

Nowhere was safe from the merciless temperatures. Far away on the outskirts of town, the dilapidated trailer park wasn’t much different. The earth was parched and cracked and the grass was a sickly straw colour.

While everyone else could take refuge inside, Eddie’s trailer trapped heat like a furnace. The two of you lay sprawled in the meagre shade of the picnic shelter on either side of the bench. Eyes closed, not talking, your fingertips brushing.

Eddie had finally shed his leather jacket, a sure sign the scorch was unbearable. He was clad only in a light t-shirt and ripped jeans, hair pushed off his neck and falling over the side of the bench. Both of you had kicked off your shoes long ago hoping it would lend relief but nothing seemed to. There was only heavy, humid heat.

Conversation forgotten; your brains were soup. ‘It’s too hot,’ and ‘When, please, when will it end,’ were the only thoughts you could form.

At least you were going to suffocate together. You stroked your fingers against the back of Eddie’s hand and pictured the small smile that graced his lips. He groaned softly, which you took to mean either, ‘I love you,’ or ‘Make it stop!’ You went with the former.

People always said Hell was coming to Hawkins and if the temperature was anything to go by, you believed them. What you wouldn't give for even a breeze!

In that moment, or perhaps it was centuries later, something changed. You couldn’t exactly explain it. A feeling? A buzz in the air? A taste in the back of your mouth? You sat bolt upright.

‘Eddie?’

He groaned again. ‘Eddie, it’s going to rain!’

‘No, it’s not!’ he slurred, shifting to get comfortable, ‘They’ve been saying that for weeks! It’s a cold-hearted lie!’

‘I’m serious!’ the feeling had filled you with a new sense of vigour. You climbed over the table and him and started wandering about, staring at the sky with your hands outstretched

‘Come back!’ he complained, ‘I want to die in this sweltering wasteland together!’

‘I can sense it!’ you insisted.

Eddie squinted at the sky, there was maybe one cloud, two if you counted that weird pale whisp of nothing! ‘You’re delusional!’ he retorted; you paid him no heed. ‘At least put your shoes back on! You’re gonna get glass in your feet or something!’ he tossed your sandals in your direction, covering his eyes with his arm and turning over.

‘Come on! Come on!’ you muttered, ‘Ha! I felt it!’

‘It’s a mirage!’ he teased half-heartedly.

‘Come on!’ you went on.

‘Lie back down!’

‘Any second…’

He grumbled your name.

‘Now!’

A crash of thunder split the silence and the sky opened. Eddie nearly fell off the bench, spinning to see your wet grinning face.

‘Woah! What else can you do?’ he scrambled to his feet.

‘I didn’t even know I could do that!’ you giggled at your hands as though they held magical power.

Cool, refreshing rain hammered down on you, splattering when it hit your skin. ‘Come on!’ The two of you scrambled to put your shoes on and raced out into the downpour.

Rolling grey clouds had materialised from nowhere, darkening the landscape; it felt like a whole ocean was falling on the dry, brittle town. You ran through the shower, feet splashing, laughing at the top of your lungs. The scent of petrichor filled your nose. You were wet through in seconds and Eddie wasn’t far behind. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his shirt clinging to his chest. He was laughing too.

An especially loud crack of thunder made you scream, then convulse into a fit of giggles. Eddie caught up to you, grabbing you from behind and spinning you around to shrieks of delight. You were flying, drunk on excitement.

He set you down and pulled you round to face him. Nose to nose, water streamed down your faces. Staring into each-other’s eyes, he cupped your cheeks in both hands and kissed you. It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed Eddie by any stretch, but every time managed to feel different. This one was invigorating, full of relief after so long being forced apart by the heat. It felt just like a movie. Everything was right again, the earth quenched and your love replenished.

The wind began to pick up, tossing spray into your eyes while you danced and jumped in puddles like little children. He kissed you again and again between euphoric giggles.

You were drenched to the bone when a brilliant flash of lightning split the sky. You yelped in surprise and Eddie grabbed your hand, dragging you, still laughing, inside.

He shut the door but the rainstorm drummed on the roof of the trailer so hard it might have broken through. Though the wind rushed and whipped the fragile walls, making the battered trailer creak and groan under the buffet, you never doubted your safety.

Leading you down the hall Eddie pulled open a draw, handing you some dry clothes and starting to change himself. You pulled on his warm, dry t-shirt breathing in its comforting smell. You took turns squeezing your water-logged hair over his bathroom sink, drying it carefully with a towel. Eddie pulled you into bed, finally able to wrap you in his arms and sleep soundly.

The window was cracked keeping the rain out but letting in the fresh, rejuvenating air in. You closed your eyes, Eddie’s warmth a comforting embrace. Raindrops plinked over the roof, gurgled along the ground, and dripped off of ledges, soothing and guiding you to sleep. Thunder rumbled a million miles away and lightning still flashed but you snuggled into Eddie’s chest, safe and sound from the storm.

***

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! I really hope you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson drabble #amber writes

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samcscreams · 10 months

Text

Pt3 Tara Knows AU: previous

“I’m meant to be alone” Sam dropped her gaze from her sister. As if that would make this any easier.

“Why would you say that?” Tara saw the opening in Sam’s walls so she moved to close the gap between them hoping her sister wouldn’t turn her away.

Before Sam could answer Tara’s question or stop her from coming closer just down the stairs the front door handle started to jiggle.

“Mom” the sisters said to each other

Without thinking Sam ushered her baby sister into her room. She knew this conversation wasn’t over but she also knew having it in the hall was a death sentence.

Both girls waited silently listing to the steps echoing about the house. The girls had become fluent in what each step meant. A creak here and a double creak there meant she was only tipsy (a normal persons drunk). She would head straight to bed and sleep for hours. They were safe.

Sam exhaled in relief. She could bearly handle the conversation at hand let alone an attack from their mother. She turned to her sister who was standing arms crossed looking up at her.

“What” Sam asked

“Don’t what me. You know what” Tara sniped back

“I’m not safe Tara” Sam moved to her bed. Turing her back to her sister. If she could she would crawl into her bed and sink so far into her mattress it would swallow her whole.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean you’re not safe? From who?” Tara was concerned with what her sister seemed to be saying. She crossed the room to try and look out the window as if that was going to answer her question.

Sam wanted to laugh at the situation. In a another life she might have.

“No. Not like that. Uh fuck. I mean I’m not safe to be around” Sam spit out her answer awkwardly trying to fix the confusion dancing in the air. Tara only turned and looked at her more confused than before. Blinking those big brown eyes like each blink would wash away the misunderstanding.

“I told you I don’t know how to talk” Sam averted her eyes from Tara. She felt defeated in her lack of communication.

Tara could sense her sister was burning inside. She could see the way she was squirming under the microscope she held to her. But Tara couldn’t help it. She needed to understand.

“What do you mean you’re not safe to be around? How could you possibly not be safe to be around. Sam you’re literally the one person I trust with my life.” Tara shifted her weight as she tried to wrap her brain around what her sister was saying. It honestly was unfathomable for Tara to think of Sam in such a way.

“I’m almost 18. He was too” Sam couldn’t help but be cryptic. The words to clear the air died on her tongue. She couldn’t face the her fear. What if saying it out loud was the key for it to become real.

Tara moved to her sister who was now sitting on her bed. Luckily with Sam sitting they were now eye level with each other. Tara cupped Sam’s face drawing her eyes to meet her own. She noticed the forming tears pooling in Sam’s eyes.

“Sammy. You could never be like him” Tara’s eyes were intense staring into Sam’s. She needed Sam to know that what she said wasn’t an opinion it was just plain facts.

But Sam could never listen.

“You don’t know that. Not really.” Sam broke free from her sister’s grasp. She got up from the bed and moved to her closet. As she went to open it her heart screamed to keep it closed.

Tara could feel the rage building inside her. Watching her sister brush her off again like her words mean nothing. Like her experience means nothing. Like she means nothing. She couldn’t keep it in anymore. It wasn’t fair to herself.

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to say those things. I know you Sam. You act like I don’t and it’s not fair. I watched and I waited for you to tell me what’s going on. For you to tell me why you pushed away. I’ve blamed myself for years. That I did this. So you don’t get to stand there and lie to me. Because I know. I know how you protect me. The night dad left I remember how your first instinct was to cover me. You held me behind you so I wouldn’t see. When mom started to throw stuff you shielded me the best you could and it was you who cleaned my cuts after. I know it was you who beat up Johnny smith for stealing my lunch for a week and I know that’s why nobody picks on me anymore. Literally everyone knows that you’ll protect me. So why can’t you?”

Tara was out of breath by the time she was finished. Sam was still standing by her closet. The girls were actively back into the position they were in the hall. Tara stranded alone begging for the one person that makes her world make sense to come back to her. Then there’s Sam, turning her back from the one person that makes her feel like shes not actually a monster.

Sam could feel her fear crawling up her throat. The nightmares the plagued her mind flash one after another. She had already made up her mind about who she was. That’s why her closet was entirely empty and under her bed was crammed with packed bags. But Tara would fight. Kicking and screaming Tara would fight for her to stay, to face it. She knows there’s no more hiding from this. The one person who wasn’t supposed to know. Knows. If she ever lost control and hurt…

Sams made up her mind. She’ll always protect Tara. Even if it means leaving.

“Look at me” Tara was growing impatient with her sister “just look at me. I’m here now”

Sam turned towards her baby sister. She knew what she had to do.

“That’s the problem Tara. Your here. You’re always here. Always reminding me that I don’t belong. That I’m not like you. That I’m cursed to be your downfall. Reminding me every day of the monster I really am”

Sam’s eyes grew dark and cold. Tara had seen her big sisters eyes like this. They were never pointed at her but she had seen Sam flip her switch before. However, it wasn’t until now she made the connection of where she’d seen them before.

Amber was obsessed with Stab but even more the documentary about the true story. Amber would have it on all the time. Mainly in the back ground when they were hanging out and doing homework. Tara could never fully understand why watching it made her so uncomfortable. Then it hit.

Sam’s eyes

Billy’s eyes

They were the same eyes.

If Tara had any doubts before they were washed away. A surge of sadness washed over Tara as reality set in. They really didn’t share a father, not that that really mattered to Tara. No the worst part of this situation was that Sam was trying to scare her. To push her fully away. She could tell by the way Sam slowly moved closer like a wolf stalking its pray. Sam was showing her the devil with in and expected Tara to hate her in return.

“You don’t know me anymore Tara. I’ve chan…”

“Just stop” tara said in a dry tone

Sam was towering over her sister. But at the sudden dry straight tone she stumbled back a bit.

“If you’re trying to scare me it’s not gonna work. I don’t care how many times I’ll have to say this until you believe it yourself. YOU ARE NOT A MONSTER. You’re my sister and I just want you to stop pushing me away. You said you’d always be there for me. But you’re not.”

Sam dropped her guard. She had been bested. As if all her walls were made of glass Tara knew everything. But most importantly Tara was right. She was loving her sister from afar and hadn’t truly been there for her in years.

“Fuck you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I haven’t been able to stop fucking up since that night.” Sam started to cry there wasn’t any doors holding back the emotions now.

“What night?” Tara reached out to grab Sam. They both sank to the floor.

“The night dad left. I found mom’s diary and read how she cheated with Billy and got pregnant with me so I confronted her and I didn’t know dad was behind me and he didn’t know that I wasn’t his so when he found out he started yelling and left.”

“Oh” the sudden information connected all the dots for Tara.

“I’m the reason dad left. I’m the reason our family is broken. I’m the reason for everything that’s bad in your life Tara. How could I not be a monster?”

#sam carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #AU: Tara Knows

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burgundybmw · 2 years

Text

Guitar String of Fate

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,372 (plus social media posts)

Warning: Angst (just the lyrics to the songs on the album, everything else is fluffy!), Game of Thrones critique and reference to its violent content (it makes sense later)

Summary: When the band Daughters of Lilith tour bus breaks down in the middle of Indiana, they are left stranded for a few hours waiting for help. Y/N (also known by Echo) sees a bar in the distance with a giant LIVE MUSIC sign in bright neon lights, she tells the girls they might as well find some entertainment while they wait. The local favorite Corroded Coffin is playing, and when she locks eyes with the guitar player for the first time, Y/N can’t help but feel the electricity in the air. Will this be a missed connection? Or will the strings of fate bring them together again?

Author’s Note: Here it is! The first chapter of Guitar String of Fate! Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!

Part I

This is Fred Benson coming to you live from Indianapolis! Fresh off the Antiquity tour, we have with us the members of Daughters of Lilith!

Echo: Lovely to be here!

Eden: Hey guys!

Chrissy: Hey everyone!

Barb: Hello!

Vickie: Hey!

For those who aren't in the know, Daughters of Lilith is an all girl rock band from Los Angeles, California. They took the music world by storm back in 2019 with their debut album "Into The Gorgon's Eyes." In an era where rock music was thought to be dead and buried, these ladies have brought it back to the land of the living! With millions of streams and stadiums across the country sold out, Daughters of Lilith has certainly rocked our worlds. Now tell us, how does it feel to finish up with your first continental tour?

Echo: It's definitely bittersweet. Everything has been amazing so far, all of our fans coming out to see us is absolutely surreal.

Vickie: Oh definitely, sometimes I feel like I'm going to wake up and this all thing was just a dream my brain made up.

Eden: I'm still shocked people actually like our sh*t. When we first formed the band we had no clue it would blow up like this.

Chrissy: It's crazy, because like, going on stage used to be so scary for me. Now it's like second nature! I loved seeing everyone's signs in the audience and watching them sing along to our music. It's so cool!

Barb: It feels good to be back in my home state of Indiana, but I can't wait to get back to LA for some much needed rest for sure.

Some R&R is definitely deserved, especially with the new album coming out in a few weeks. "A Mausoleum Knight's Dream" is heavily anticipated, when you guys dropped the title it went viral on social media. Can you tell us a bit about it?

Eden: It's definitely a different vibe from our first album, Y/N wrote most of the lyrics herself. I remember we were sitting in our apartment and I woke up to use the bathroom. I found her in the kitchen scribbling in her notebook like a woman possessed.

[Edit: Y/N L/N goes by the stage name Echo. Her band mates refer to her by her legal name in interviews]

Chrissy: She wrote the entire thing in like 2 days! It was insane! I don't think she slept!

Echo: I wasn't that bad...

Barb: You were. You were chugging espresso like it was water. Eden had to throw you in bed to get a couple hours of sleep and you snuck out the window!

Echo: I was in the groove!

Vickie: That just proves our point!

A whole album in two days! That's certainly something!

Echo: They're being dramatic. It was more like a week, but yea it was a lot. I got the idea for the album when we went to go see Shakespeare in the park. I get a lot of my inspiration for music from literature.

Yes of course. "Into The Gorgon's Eyes" was inspired from the Greek myth, right?

Eden: Yea and other myths and stories as well. Vickie and Y/N are big Greek mythology nerds.

Vickie: I'm a big Percy Jackson fan! But that wasn't the only reason why we chose the theme.

Echo: I think the story of Medusa is unfortunately something a lot of people can relate to. A lot of greek tragedies are. I wrote 'Wool Stained Red' after watching Game of Thrones actually. As much as I loved the show, the graphic displays of violence were absolutely horrific. It's insane how normalized violence is in media. How it's trivialized for plot development. We see it with Medusa, she was a victim of a crime and she became the villain, a monster. We sort of ran with the idea that we should show the other perspective. History, literature, myth, they're often written by the winners. We wanted to tell the story of the side characters, the ones who are cast aside to push the hero's narrative.

'Wool Stained Red' is actually one of my favorites on the album. Whenever I listen to the opening verse and chorus it always gives me goosebumps.

[Edit: 'Wool Stained Red' is the third song on the album.

Verse 1: They tell us as little girls / To watch for the wolf in sheep's clothes / Don't frolic, don't go, don't stray / Beasts lurk in the shadows / I thought I was safe inside, the door was locked up tight / You came like a ghost in the night, and now I'm the ghost inside

Chorus: The shroud that drapes around me is not as clean as it should be / I walked alongside the virgo / I tried to say no (tried to say no) / This stain won't go away, no matter how hard I try / You've marked my soul forever, until the day I die]

Barb: Y/N wrote the opening and Eden did the chorus. At the time, they were fighting over the notebook to get all of their ideas out.

Eden: We wouldn't have to argue over it if she didn't insist on using the same notebook for music...

Echo: It's my lucky charm! I bought ten of them from the same store for when we eventually run out of pages. I swear it's like magic, I can't write in anything else.

Chrissy: It's so cute actually, she takes care of that thing like it's her baby.

Vickie: She doesn't go anywhere without it.

Is that where you wrote A Mausoleum Knight's Dream?

Echo: Sure is. I'm excited to see what people think about it, I don't know if I can wait two weeks for it to drop. Patience is certainly not my virtue.

You're certainly not alone with that, fans have been buzzing for months for its release. Especially after the overwhelming success of the Antiquity Tour. Are you guys going to do another one for this album?

Vickie: We would love to! If the album does well I'm sure another tour is on the horizon.

So what's next for you ladies? Gonna spend some time in Indiana before heading back to LA?

Barb: I wish we could, but we have events planned in LA for the new album release. It would be nice to spend some time in my hometown for a bit, but we might come back the next time we have downtime.

Echo: I was really bummed out about that. I really wanted to see Hawkins.

Hawkins, Indiana?

Chrissy: Yea! Barb, Vickie, and I are from there! Funny enough, we didn't really know each other well until we all met again in LA.

Vickie: We actually all went to the same high school, but Hawkins High is pretty big and we didn't run in the same circles back then.

Barb: Chrissy was a cheerleader, Vickie was in band, and I was more of a home body. It's insane to think about where I am today. If you would have told 16 year old Barbara Holland she'd be in a rock band with millions of fans, she would have said you were insane. I only had one best friend in high school, her name's Nancy. We're still really close.

I'm actually an alumna of Hawkins High funny enough.

Barb: I knew I recognized you! You were on the paper with Nance right?

I was! I can't believe you recognized me! It's good to see you again.

Barb: It's good to see you again too, Freddie!

Eden: I'm feeling very left out right now.

Echo: I guess we're not cool enough to be a part of the Hawkins crew Edy.

Vickie: Oh you two are so dramatic.

Chrissy: We'll all plan a vacay soon! You guys can see where we grew up!

Echo: Sounds good Chris, I'd love to see it.

As much as I love this trip down memory lane, we unfortunately have to wrap up this interview. Any final words to your fans in Indiana?

Echo: You guys were kick ass last night! Can't wait to come back!

Eden: Till next time Indiana.

Chrissy: Bye everyone! We love you guys so much, thanks for coming out!

Vickie: Hope you guys like the new album!

Barb: Thank you Indianapolis, and shout out to Hawkins!

That's everything folks! This was Daughters of Lilith with you live in Indianapolis! A Mausoleum Knight's Dream drops in 2 weeks, so stay tuned for that!

Eddie was procrastinating, but it wasn't his fault. Really. It was Robin's. If she never suggested new music to him he would have actually made progress with Corroded Coffin's new material. How was he supposed to resist the temptation of an album called Into The Gorgon's Eyes? It was like a siren's call. The link to the album Robin had sent just begging to be played. Eddie knew Gareth would give him shit for listening to another band's music instead writing for his own, but when he did he care about Gareth's opinion anyway? He thinks Whitesnake is one of the best bands to come out of the 80s. Clearly his opinion was wrong.

Robin had told him that the best way to listen to the album was from beginning to end. That once he started it, he had to finish it. He had a few hours before he had to leave for The Hideout, so he decided to put it on early instead of playing it in his van. It was the best decision he made in weeks.

Daughters of Lilith's music wasn't like anything he'd listen to before. The melody transported him outside of himself. It sounded as if he was inside of a cave, or some abandoned ruins in an ancient land far away from Hawkins, Indiana. He understood why the lead singer decided to go by Echo, her voice surrounded him on all sides, moving through him like a stark winter's chill.

Robin was right when she said it was a masterpiece. It was haunting. Tragic. Eddie was hooked. The introduction 'My Body Is A Temple' was lighter, bright for a nu metal/goth rock band. All of the instrumentals were acoustic. Echo's voice shined; her high notes reminiscent of the church choir Eddie's mom made him join as a kid. Surrounded by stone, the reverb bouncing off the walls of his mind. Peaceful, angelic. Completely different from the song that followed it.

'Violated' began with an intense guitar rip, so loud it almost deafened him. The drums pounded against his ears like most of the metal music he listened too. What differentiated it from the rest was the soft keys of the piano that broke through the heavy tone. Echo's voice was heartbreaking. As if she was on the brink of tears. Pure agony. That's how most of the Into The Gorgon's Eyes went, a contrast of harmony and discord.

The last song on the album hit him the hardest. There are only a handful of songs that ever made him cry, 'Hemlock' was one of them. It left him feeling raw. Untethered to the space he occupied in his bedroom. Eddie knew he was going to be late for tune up at the Hideout, but he didn't care. When the song finished, he instantly replayed it. The melancholy sounds of Echo's sirens call beginning again.

Your hubris is showing my dear/ It’s what will destroy you /You swallow your pride without fear / Until those lips I once kissed turn blue / I wish I could say I was surprised / But from me, oh you could never hide /

The poison fills your veins / Like the way you filled my head / You tried to mask your pain / Now I sleep alone in our bed / They tell me it’s not your fault, that it’s a disease of the mind / And it’s so easy to say, until they watch the decay of your eyes that were once kind /

Gifts of the Earth can heal / They can send you to your grave / You’re sprinting backwards on life’s old wheel / That’s not how one should behave / And you won’t drag me there with you, despite how hard you tried / I’d rather walk this road alone than become a widow before a bride /

The poison slowly fills your veins / Like the way you filled my head / You tried to mask your pain / Now I sleep alone in our bed / They tell me it’s not your fault, that it’s a disease of the mind / And it’s so easy to say, until they watch the decay of your eyes that were once kind /

…

I told you I told you / Time and time again / The flowers are not so pretty / When they can bring the kiss of death / Say hello my darling, to the fates of three / When they cut your cord and steal your last breath / You told me I was your Eurydice, that you’d go to Hell and back for me / You’re a lyre, you stole the gold from the windows of my soul to pay Charon’s fee / I told you I told you / It was never if but when /

The poison slowly fills your veins / Like the way you filled my head / You tried to mask your pain / Now I sleep alone in our bed / I sleep alone in our bed /I sleep alone in our bed /

When you wake up tomorrow, will it be heaven sent?

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