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wongyuuu · 2 months

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lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice.

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists"

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?"

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change"

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock.

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium.

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan?

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed"

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him.

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you.

"Will you need to film my family?"

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life"

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so.

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second.

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary.

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either.

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten.

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that.

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him.

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain.

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes.

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?" someone asked.

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you.

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed.

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?"

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?"

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?"

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him.

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head.

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad.

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you.

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse.

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot.

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake.

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling.

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua.

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments.

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little.

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels.

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said.

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit.

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough.

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours.

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much.

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics.

And he only had one change left.

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because.

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring.

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore.

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see.

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment.

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way.

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan.

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it.

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile.

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin.

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed.

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else.

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours.

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around.

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land.

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him.

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing.

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you.

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink.

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course.

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

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satoshy12 · 3 months

Text

Dating Ra's Granddaughter, Tim is not a fan how Ra did it. But Jazz is cute!

Tim was looking at Ra, who once again kidnapped him! Before him, was there a suit?

Ra:" Put on your clothes. I have the date ready for you!"

Tim didn't fight back, and they arrived in the small town.

Cute red hair opened the door. "Grandpa, what are you doing here?"

Ra:" Jasmine remember your bad boyfriend! So I brought you a new one! He is a smart boy! And I can be your +1 when you rule the league!"

Jazz:" Grandpa! We had the talk!"

Ra: Yeah, yeah, I am going to spend time with Danny and Ellie. You go on your date."

Ra left to join Danny and Ellie. He has the sword Ellie wanted, and both wanted to train her to use it.

Jazz gave a smile:" I am sorry about him. Since I dated that boy who wanted to take over my body, he is awlays that way."

Tim: "Oh, no problem. Where am I?"

Jazz:" In Amity Park."

Tim looked at the pretty, cute girl and said, "Don't we have a date to go?"

Jazz:"Wait, really? Even if Grandpa...?"

Tim:" Ah, no problem about it."

Irony he liked to spend time with her, and Ra did get much better. To learn he was never planned, as Heir doesn't bother him. But that Damian was never the Heir brought him joy.

And they all seem to be like Damian, very Feral.

A/N

Ra never planned for Tim to be his heir. Nope! Tim was to marry his heir!

And it all started when Jazz dated Johnny.

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undercoverpena · 3 months

Text

voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #Francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

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quecksilvereyes · 1 year

Text

oh, sister, I am sorry. your eyes are sunken and your skin is bruised. your lips are chapped, your nailbeds bitten raw. your husband's hand on your waist is a ghost's touch held by the band on your left ring finger and I-

I am dead.

I got on the train, Su. Nevermind your tears, nevermind the plea you could not shape with words, nevermind your fingers on the pulse point of my wrist. "stay", you'd said, as you have always done, dictionary in hand and baby teeth yet lodged in your jaw. "don't go where i cannot."

I step through a wardrobe and you follow, damned be reason. I slay a wolf and you follow, I cling to the little ones and you follow, I am crowned and you follow, I am-

I go past a lamp post, and you follow, damned be dread. I go to a train station and you follow, trembling hands and tender heart. I go, and I go, and I go, and you follow. Sun of my skies. Light of my life.

I go. you stop.

are we too old for stories, now? ten-and-four and ten-and-three, budding bodies and steel bones, we are cast from our home. i hold the little ones until i drown in them. you grip your skirts until no iron can press the shape of your palms from them. and you have ever been, cruelly reasonable and logically callous.

say you, glass shard eyes and rouge-red lips: we are english. we are children. she thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe.

say I, trembling hands and coiling guts: we are narnian. we are monarchs. if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically she must be telling the truth.

my sister Susan, beautiful as folk tales are and twice as sharp, did you intend every invitation you took for me to twist the knife a godly animal once thrust into my guts? perhaps it was the way your eyes turned blue, or the sound of your laughter losing its bells. perhaps it was just my trembling fingers at the back of your legs, drawing stocking lines where no stockings had ever lain.

the line came out shaking, and you rubbed it off until your skin cried red. the hem of your dress still dripped wet when you left that day, turning on heels too narrow for you to walk in.

do you remember? it took you days to come home, and mother wailed for all of them. you crawled into my bed that night, as you did when we were parents to our little ones, those terrible months. your head on my shoulder, your breath in my ear, I held you until morning.

your mouth in my throat, eyes heavy with sleep, tongue heavy with champagne: we are here now. we must make the best of it. he cannot have all our lives, and all our joys. i wish you would laugh again.

doesn't little lucy, shrieking mouth and tumbling legs, laugh enough for us all?

lucy's manic. if she didn't laugh she'd cry.

i think sometimes, in the parts of my guts that are still a schoolboy, and are mean and cruel to match, that the alcohol makes you softer than the daylight ever could. i do not tell you.

i press my lips to your forehead. i wrap my arms around you. the year between us rings heavy, and when I get up in the morning, you do not follow.

I tried, Su. I did. I applied for university, I saw that girl with that smile. with those eyes. I let you take sections from the paper before I ever touched it, I held the little ones in my arms, and I made coffee in the morning. I sat all my exams.

I smiled when the little ones came back smelling of home.

Aslan's wounds, did I try. but-

I have ever been a thing made for stories. brave the way knights are, bloody knuckles and buckling pride. a horse between my calves, a sword in my hands.

I think, sometimes, that I was born for my sword, for the hollow ringing of my heart when I first held it. a part of me, even then, ten-and-three and soaked to the bone.

such bravery is not made for real world boys and real world taunts. there is a map, I think, from the summits of my knuckles to the jaws of every boy who ever looked at me and bared his teeth.

I am sovereign. I am the skies for your sun to burn in.

I am made wrong, for this england, and I cannot take this life you want. I belong, I think, into myths and legend, the star-studded shards of our home.

so I went on the train, Susan. so I died, and I named what you have chosen. so I banned you from their scorning mouths. so you grip your husband's hand, realest of us all, and you cry. you do not follow.

Forgive me.

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yourfatherlucifer · 5 months

Text

Bounce, Bounce (JWY)

san's manager!wooyoung x male!reader

summary: deciding to finally check out the underground boxing ring, you find that one man cannot keep his eyes off of you.

warnings: MDNI, sub!wooyoung, top/switch!reader, mxm, mentions of male breeding (its not possible), creampie, whining, crying, slightly bratty woo, getting caught by san, locker room sex, short fic (sorry), big cock reader.

genre: smut

AU: Bouncy

WC: 994

Rated: R

tags: @mjyungi @k-hotchoisan @choism @piratequeen-queenofgames @shycreationdreamland @aygotnobitches @hecateslittlewitchling @sanspuppet @yunho-mp3

nets: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @kflixnet @pirateeznet @k-labels @wonderlandnet

I finally got around to it omg, I hope people like this. Short but sweet. PLEASE REBLOG

"I'm telling you, M/N, it's gonna be fun." Your friend had slapped your back in enthusiasm.

"It's illegal, is it what it is." You muttered.

"There's gonna be hot guys? Well, at least sometimes there is. Look, I know, it isn't ideal, not with those damn drones everywhere. Its life now. Dystopian world or not, we gotta make our life interesting somehow." Your friend has crossed her arms.

You cringed at her, making a face of disgust, "Since when did you get all philosophical? It's gross. Just stop."

As you walked away from her, she threw her head back in a silent laugh, not wanting anyone to hear her joy.

When she gathered her bearings and ran back up to your side, "When is the last time you got your dick wet? You've been so grumpy. Do I need to help you find a nice girl?"

"Oh my god, F/N, I'm gay! How many times do I have to remind you. I am not into girls."

"Right, forgot. Sorry. Anyway, back to my question-"

"Why is it any of your concern?"

"Because, I miss seeing you happy, dude."

You shoved her arms off your waist in a playful manner, "Alright, alright, I'll go, stop hugging me."

"Ain't my fault you have such a nice waist, Y/N." She giggled.

F/N grabbed your hand, "Come on, lets just go there already, I don't wanna miss the fight, I hear Choi San is fighting today!" her heart eyes didn't go unnoticed, "And he's the hottest fighter!"

"We have two different tastes, I doubt it."

The crowd soon began to fill up, men and women alike surrounded both you and your friend to watch the fight. F/N was right, the fighter Choi San was definitely hot, but you didn't have eyes on him. You weren't interested. With his looks you were sure he's a ladies man, which meant he wouldn't want you. You have a dick after all.

The fight was boring, seeing two grown men punch each other was no fun at all to you. You rolled your eyes, ready to leave until you noticed a man staring at you, his doe-like eyes trained on you. He was beautiful.

That’s it. You changed your mind, you’re staying. F/N paid no mind to you, she was too engrossed in the fight. She didn’t even notice when you left her side to go stand by the beautiful stranger.

“Hi.” You tapped his shoulder, “I’m Y/N.”

He stared you up and down, his eyes staring at the bulge in your pants, he was wondering if you were big. Maybe you could get in his tight hole. He wanted you inside of him bad.

He turned around to face you, a smile on his face, “Wooyoung. I’m Wooyoung.”

Even his name was cute.

That’s when he grinned, “Say..wanna come with me to the back?”

You nod and take his hand. He leads you to a room of lockers and showers, as you guessed, it’s the locker room.

Wooyoung shut the door and pushed you against some lockers, his lips attacking your neck. You bared your neck to him, hands gripping his waist, his slim and tiny waist.

“Wooyoung.” you growled, picking him up and wrapping his legs around your own waist, spinning the both of you around and pushing his back into the lockers this time. Your cock ground into his through your loose pants.

Wooyoung let out whiny moans, his arms scrambling to your back, pulling at your shirt. He could feel exactly just how big you were. You’re so much bigger than him, he couldn’t wait to feel your cock against his walls.

“Please~” he cried out, hips bucking into yours.

You grinned, removing one of your hands from him to pull your cock out of your pants and yanking off his trousers. You pushed him back against the lockers once more and slammed your cock into his tight and puckered hole.

His eyes blown out as he threw his head back in pure pleasure.

When he recovered, he stared you in the eyes with a smirk, “Come on, Y/N, fuck me like you mean it.”

You growled, “I’m gonna fuck the brat out of you.” You pulled your large cock out of him just to push it back in roughly.

The lockers rocked back and forth from your rough rhythm while Wooyoung’s moans filled the room. When you felt it wasn’t safe to keep fucking against the lockers, you moved the two of you two a bench, without pulling out of him.

The second his back touched the cold metal bench, he cried out, “Please, harder!”

Your lips attached to his perked nipple and thrusted your cock into his hole in a circle motion, slipping your hand between the two of you to pump his own neglected cock.

His tears flooded down his face as you twisted your hand around his weeping dick. You kissed away the tears then planted your lips to his neck, latching onto the skin, leaving marks for people to find. To show how dirty of a man he is.

When his lips found yours, the two of you made out in a feverish haze, “I’m gonna fill you so full of my cum, fucking hell wish I could breed you.” You whispered into his ear.

Wooyoung cried out once again, “please! I’m gonna cum!”

You snapped your hips against his, “Yeah, me too, pretty boy. Come on, take it all. Take all of my seed like the good boy you are.”

His arms flew to your neck, as his cum spurt over the both of you, making a mess. While your cum filled his walls like a wave of the ocean.

You laid on top of him, placing a kiss to the top of his head, “You should call me, we need to do this again.”

He giggled, “Total-“

“Damn, Woo, didn’t know you liked to take it up the ass..”

“San!”

#cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #kflixnet #wonderlandnet #k-labels #ateez x reader #ateez smut #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x male reader smut #x male reader #wooyoung x reader

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dreamofjoys · 1 year

Note

Image popped into my head of Overblot!Malleus taking the sleeping F!MC, enchanting her into an Aurora-like dress and placing her in his room, him sitting on the bed while caressing her face and filling her dreams with such sweet dreams of them together, so she’ll never leave him and he can keep her happy while asleep. Think we could elaborate on that imagery?

— a/n: i actually had a similar idea like this in my drafts and i wanted to make it 18+ HAHAHA but since someone requested it, i will make it sfw hehe

— cw: female reader, spoilers for chapter 7(this was written before part 3 came out), malleus and reader have a crush on each other but they are not in a relationship, malleus overblots, he's a little yandere but it's only cuz of his overblotting, slight manipulation, a little angst, mentions of starting a family, sleeping in a dream, he makes you sleep everytime

ending was inspired by this tiktok video

an unfamiliar feeling aroused in malleus’s chest when you told him that there might be a way to go back to your own world. “hm, it could be possible that the mirror is connected to the other world.” you cheered in joy upon hearing malleus's words, failing to notice a hint of darkness in his tone.

that night, malleus returns back to his room, a bitter taste was left in his mouth as he recalls bidding you goodnight with a smile on his face despite feeling the opposite.

it's like that time again, it's like the thorns of briar valley are squeezing my heart. i don't want her to leave. i don't want lilia to leave. i don't want to be alone. i don't want to be forgotten-

the rain pours heavily, the cries of thunder and lightning shook diasomnia as the dark fae wallows in his room. a sinister idea appeared in his mind, but he debated using it, thinking that it wouldn't do well.

it wasn't until silver tearfully confessed to him that he did not want lilia to leave. that was the final straw for malleus before he overblots, finally succumbing to the darkness and his desires.

you flung open the entrance of ramshackle dorm, not bothering to close it as you rushed to diasomnia to attend lilia's farewell party. you had fell asleep on the couch, totally forgotten that today was lilia's last school of school. you could only hope that the old man wasn't too mad about you being late to his party.

as you stepped into diasomnia's territory, a chill ran down your spine as you noticed that the thorns were spreading, enveloping the sky and everything that it touches. you shrieked, thinking that it was going to attack you. however, the thorns maintained an arm distance from you. somehow, it managed to form a pathway that leads to the entrance of diasomnia.

was this part of the party's decoration? you thought, shrugging off the voice in your head that was telling you to run as you made your way to the entrance.

you stood in front of the double doors, hand pressing down at the door handle as the ominous feeling starts getting stronger and stronger. but that's just diasomnia, right? it has a gloomy and depressing atmosphere. you were so sure that lilia was going to pop out from somewhere and scare the living hell out of you once you open the door. however, the sight that greeted you was far from what you had expected.

the thorns formed a coffin shape, protecting whoever that was inside from harm. was that lilia, silver and sebek sleeping? but why? is this a prank?

you glance nervously around the surroundings, taking a step forward to wake up lilia, the main character of the day. this atmosphere is tensed, you didn't like it. it feels like something is caging you, ready to swallow you all. but most important of all, why does this feels so familiar?

"child of men, you are here." a familiar voice interrupts your train of thoughts as you whipped your body to the source, instantly wishing that you had never done so.

standing in front of you was malleus in his elegant form. elegant would have been the correct word if there wasn't any ink dripping around him. his left eye was engulfed in bright green flames. his horns were glowing with bright green stripes, just like his tail.

"is this your costume for the party?" you joked, trying to convince that this isn't real, trying to pretend that your crush did not just overblot, trying to tell yourself that everything it's okay, even though it's not. because you have 0 chance against malleus.

"oh my dear, i can assure you that it's not." you shivered at the pet name that he gives you. it was suppose to be romantic, but you can't help but feel that he has other intention towards you.

you didn't even notice that he was standing in front of you until his thumb and finger grasp on your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. it was then reality finally came crushing down on you as you realised that he had indeed overblot. you were too familiar with the tension around you, something that you could only feel whenever someone overblots. you had these experienced 6 times, the 7th time would still be the same.

panicking, you reached out to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "please malleus, stop all of these. we can talk things out- just stop using your magic okay? please come back to me." malleus pays no attention to your words. the hand that was grasping onto your chin slowly travels up, caressing your lips that were wobbling before wiping off the tears that were cascading down your eyes. his free hand rest on your back, pulling you into his embrace as he attempts to calm you down.

even when malleus has lost his sanity, he still puts your happiness and comfort above everything else.

"are you scared? don't worry, i will make things right. you will never have to feel all this emotions again. sadness, anger, loneliness, you will never have to experience them again. all you will feel is happiness." he rest his forehead on yours, bright green eyes staring into yours.

"sweet dreams, my love."

before you could ask him what he mean, a wave of drowsiness hits you, causing you to struggle to stand up. malleus instantly swoops you up in a bridal style, pressing a loving kiss on your forehead as he watches you lose the battle with his magic, drifting into a peaceful slumber.

he carries you into his room, gently placing you on his bed, fingers snapping to change your clothes out to a simple white princess dress before tucking you in with those expensive silky blanket. he opts to sit beside you, caressing your face lovingly as he takes in your sleeping form. even when you are sleeping, you look ethereal to him.

the steady rhythm of your heartbeat sparks joy in malleus. it's a reminder that you are here beside him, forever.

you were sitting in front of your lover, back leaning against his chest. his tone arms encases you in his embrace as he holds out a book, reading to you about the story of sleeping beauty.

the idea of being cursed to sleep at the young age of 16 had struck something foreign inside you. what was the word to describe this feeling again? for as long as you know, you have only been able to experience happiness. whatever that was not related to it. it's just not there.

"love, what are you thinking about hm?" malleus rest his chin on top of your head, eyes peering down to stare at your expression.

"home." the answer came out so sudden that it shocked the both of you. what were you saying? isn't your home with malleus? "should we start a family?" you added, thinking that it's time to progress your relationship with malleus.

"anything for you." with a snap of his finger, the book in his hands disappeared. he hugs you tightly, burrowing his nose to etch the smell of you into his brain. you thought that malleus was just being clingy, so you giggled and snuggled further into his embrace, failing to notice the dark gleam in his eyes that was glowing with bright green.

"but first, you should sleep for awhile. you haven't been sleeping well lately yes?" malleus suggested, covering your eyes with his big hand as he started humming out a familiar tune.

"hmmm? i guess so..." just like that, he manage to lull you back into sleep again.

malleus will keep you happy by his side, even if it means pouring more of his magic into you so that you can't forget about everything and everyone, except him.

#malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twsited wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #tw yandere #malleus yandere #overblot #malleus overblot #fem reader #dreamofjoysask #twst imagines #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus #female reader

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sezez · 3 months

Text

Throughout Poppy Playtime, the Protagonist is quite the mysterious character. But in Chapter 3, we get a bit more info on them. I find the Protagonist very interesting and I hope that MOB Games might give us a clear answer on them. (And I may sound stupid for saying this over and over, but I really want the Protagonist to have a voice so we can hear what they're thinking about all of this)

The Protagonist is employee who happens to look like a specific scientist/employee familiar to the toys:

It's by this point that the Protagonist might be a scientist or someone who knew about the experiments and came back to find the employees, but is now gonna help Poppy to redeem themselves.

But, I personally believe that the Protagonist was a normal employee, they didn't know about the experiments and only came back to search for the missing employees.

But you may say: "But the toys recognize the Protagonist." Or "There are clear signs that the Protagonist knew about the experiments."

To which I know and agree with. But if the Protagonist did knew about it all, then why bother to come back if they knew what the toys were capable of?

Anyone who knew that Huggy is alive is about to get the hell out of the factory the moment he disappeared. And yet the Protagonist didn't. (But maybe it's also because the door leading to the entrance closed itself, I keep noticing that while everyone else doesn't.)

Anyway, I also think that the Protagonist might look familiar to the experiments. Like the Protagonist's hairstyle is similar to a scientist, or their face looks like higher rank employee or perhaps is the way they're dressed. Just something about them looks familiar to every toy.

The toys are (un)welcoming the Protagonist back after leaving them:

During the nightmare, the Protagonist runs into a radio on the floor and it's saying something in reverse. This is what it said:

"8-8-1995. I find your presence intrusive. After all this time you've return, you come in here and yet you kill and murder. You pillage and destroy. Your presence was demanded 10 years ago and yet you didn't show up... 8-8-1995. You were suppose to be here, why weren't you here? You missed the event, you missed the meeting, you missed the party. You have no right to be here... 8-8-1995."

I believe this is Exp. 1006 talking to the Protagonist, he's mad that they weren't at the factory during The Hour of Joy on August 8, 1995 and got killed. And now the Protagonist is back and they're killing he's subordinates, ruining and interfering his plan.

And 1006 doesn't seem to be the only one who's mad, the other toys too. For example, Mommy Long Legs, she seems to hold a grudge against all employees of Playtime Co. and wants them to die.

Is the Protagonist really gonna help Poppy:

This has been on my mind for a bit, because I wonder if the Protagonist is gonna help Poppy just like that?

Poppy lied to the Protagonist about letting them escape and then the train crashed, hurting the Protagonist and getting dragged by Catnap to a crasher that could have killed them. And when the Protagonist and Poppy do reunite, she just left them on their own while she and Kissy Missy were above on the elevator, even though she literally said she was there to help.

And it's suspicious that the next destination Poppy leads the Protagonist to is deep below, where possible all of the dead bodies of the employees are.

Why would she lead the Protagonist there?

If the Protagonist is a employee who had zero idea about the experiments, then it's quite understandable for them to be angry at Poppy and not wanting to do any of this any longer because they just wanted to know what and where the other employees are, and the Protagonist got the answer, they're all dead. That's it, it's time for them to leave and never, ever come back.

If the Protagonist was a scientist who was involve in the experiments, then perhaps they're doing it because they feel guilty and want to redeem themselves. But if the Protagonist is actually evil, then they're just helping Poppy to cover up everything and possibly betraying Poppy in the process.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime theory #poppy playtime player #poppy playtime protagonist

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mncxbe · 8 months

Note

I just had a cute Idea, How do you think Yosano, Tecchou, and Jouno (and anyone else you want to hehe) react to a child genuinely complimenting them? That would be so cute ngl-

Omg yes this would be so cute. Enjoy♡♡

Side note: ik Jouno can't see but I included descriptions for literary purposes😌🤝🏻

°☆○

You think... I'm pretty?

𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒄𝒉ō, 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐, 𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slice of life/ silly♡

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

so let's assume a kid bumps into him on the street and then they engage in a staring contest (he defo would you cannot me convince me otherwise)

then the kid compliments his hair or points out how tall he is or something

at first he's there like 😐 but then that sweet smile of his makes its way to his lips and omg he's so happy

probably thanks the kid tbh

compliments them back and he's so sweet fr; just protect him

Tecchou's eyes narrowed as he carefully observed the colony of ants that crawled its way on the edge of the sidewalk; along the stretch of shade provided by the nearby building.

'Interesting...' he thought to himself 'So they purposefully avoid walking in the sun.'

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a sudden nudge on his side.

"Ouch" voiced a little girl as she pressed a hand to her forehead "Why are you sitting in the middle of the road and woah! Is that a tattoo? It looks so pretty"

For a moment Tecchou's face remained expressionless. He simply held the girl's gaze, trying to make sense of her words. And then it hit him: the cherry petal marks on his face. He gently traced his fingertips over the markings, a warm smile rising to his lips.

"Oh thank you" he beamed, looking at the child.

The girl blushed furiously and stuttered for a moment before turning on her heels and running away, leaving Tecchou alone. He frowned, seemingly unaware of why the kid reacted in such a manner.

Just then Jouno walked out of the building and smacked him over the head.

"Why are you crouching, idiot?" he asked in an annoyed voice "Don't you have work to do?"

Tecchou rose to his feet, still gazing in the direction where the young girl left.

"Say, Jouno. Am I scary?"

"What the hell do you mean by that? Of course not"

"Then why did the girl run away?"

Jouno took notice of the hint of sadness and worry in his colleague's voice and raised a brow "What girl?"

"The girl. She said my marks looked pretty" he said, pointing at his face.

Jouno only scoffed "She was just a kid right? Stop wasting time and let's get back to work"

With that Jouno began walking down the street, snaking through the sea of people; Tecchou following close by. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the kid's words out of his mind. Were his markings really that cool? He always saw them as a part of himself, like his hair or nails, not some adornment, but apparently they were something beautiful, something that made people smile. And that was enough to make Tecchou smile too.

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐

we all know he's high on praise already, although I feel like he has a hard time accepting it

appreciates any compliment he gets but when its from children or elderly people it kinda hits different

he tries not to smile, really tries to but inside he's melting

gently pats the child on the crown of his head

The white haired man wiped the blood off his sword with a swift movement; there was a certain grace to this motion that only came from practice.

"Lowly scum" he mumbled under his breath "Really thought he could steal that woman's purse."

Suddenly, a gentle tug on his crimson cape caused him turn around and face a young boy, who didn't seem older than eleven years of age. The kid's gaze was filled with adoration, chocolate brown eyes glimmering with joy and a wide smile stretching his lips.

"Sir if I may..." he began in a hesitant tone "You're so cool. The way you slashed that man was insane!"

The boy spoke with such fervour, mimicking the blade of Jouno's sword with one of his frail arms. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up"

For a brief moment memories from Jouno's dark past resurfaced in his mind. How could this kid say such things? He doesn't know what a cruel person he was and the despicable things he had done and yet... Maybe he had actually changed since he joined the Hunting Dogs, maybe he was a now a better person; worthy of appreciation.

A warm smile tug at the corners of Jouno's lips as he placed a hand on the boy's head and ruffled his chestnut hair.

"Then make sure to stay out of trouble and work hard, kid." he said with a gentleness that surprised even Jouno himself.

The boy nodded eagerly before a woman's voice called out his name.

"Coming mom!" he replied happily, waving the white haired man goodbye. "You'll see how great I'll become sir. Just like you" added the kid as he made his way towards a middle-aged woman carrying a bag of groceries. He took her free hand and soon the two of them got lost in the sea of people swarming around the shopping centre.

Jouno took a deep breath, attempting to push down the rush of emotions that bubbled up inside him. This was all he needed: confirmation that he was doing something good, that his hard work actually paid off and his actions didn't go unnoticed.

Turning on his heels, the man walked towards the revolving doors and out of the mall, heart swelling with pride.

𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐

she's so happy honestly

knows that little kids are super honest so they mean what they say

depending on the mood she's in she may ruffle the kid's hair a little, affectionately of course

she would remember that moment for such a long time and always go back to it when she's feeling down

"Wow mommy look. She's so pretty!"

Yosano stopped dead in her tracks upon hearing these words. On her right, a little girl pointed one of her little fingers in her direction; her other hand was clutching the summer coat of an older woman.

"You're so pretty miss" said the girl again in the same cheerful voice.

"Oh, Hira. Don't say such things so strangers!" scolded her mother as she bowed deeply. "I'm sorry miss. My daughter is at that age, I'm sure you understand."

A gleeful smile rose to Yosano's lips as she shook her hand dismissively.

"Oh it's quite alright ma'am, I don't mind it at all. She's adorable."

The little girl beamed, her face turning a faint shade of red. Just then a train pulled on their platform and the woman grabbed her daughter's wrist gently and pulled her towards the opening doors; before they left, Yosano overheard the kid asking her mother if she could get her hair cut like her.

The doctor watched the sliding doors of the speed train close, blocking her vision of the girl. Her heart fluttered from happiness. As someone who never actually had a woman to look up to as a kid, she was thrilled to play that role in someone else's life. Combing a hand through her charcoal hair, her fingers lingered upon the golden butterfly clip; a comforting reminder of her past.

Soon after the arrival of her train was announced by a static voice that echoed through the entire underground station. Sweet memories of this day are still living in the back of her mind.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs yosano #yosano x reader #jono bsd #bsd jouno #jouno fluff #jouno x reader #tetchou x reader #bsd tetchou #tetchō suehiro #tetchou suehiro

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months

Text

Please

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sad

Requested: Can you make one where jack had been neglecting y/n. Or maybe they had an argument so they've been ignoring each other and jack started hanging out with belle (or other character) and y/n can see that belle has feeling for jack so she just felt heart broken and tried to disappear from the face of the earth (not die ofc, just you know. Didn't come out of the house or left from somewhere and didn't come out for a while to cope). Idk how you'll do it but uhh fix the relationship after? Maybe with a little bit of hard to get but yeah WAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH Angst to fluff😭🙏 i kinda wanna cry today cuz i haven't been processing my emotions like how a normal person should because it the normal way-,anygays so yeah ig. 🥲💕💕💕 Warnings: Cheating mentions/ arguing/ angsts

I had been sitting in this bed for what felt like a year, stuck up in this little room above the hospital listening to the chaos below. I had never intended to be here, I had a house of my own, but I seemed to always be here. At first, it was just visiting, every day once Jack finished his work I'd come up to his room to visit him, He'd tell me of his day and the business in the hospital, perhaps I'd make him dinner and we'd have a cuddle and perhaps more depending on his energy that evening. And I was so very happy, soon enough we were engaged and of course the sweetness and closeness that comes with it, Over time I visited more and more until I ended up as I was now practically living upstairs in his room. But the more time I spent here Ironicly the less I saw him.

It wasn't like that at first, when I was first here all day every day. The very moment Jack had five minutes he'd come up for a cuddle, a kiss and a cup of tea. But I had seen him less and less of these days. I know he's busy so I didn't want to complain, but I still missed him terribly. I missed just the joy of spending time together just cuddling and saying nothing at all for the pure love of being with one another. But now I saw him once a day, when he would come up to sleep, He'd barely give me more than a few grunts and an eye roll before he'd crawl into bed and sleep. Most days I didn't even get that as He'd come crawl into bed after I went to sleep and be gone before I was awake.

I had tried to go down into the hospital but I always got overwhelmed by the madness or just pushed away by the staff, but I know that's best I don't have any medical training or even knew only what Jack had told me second hand over time, so I wasn't any help and my body being wondering around was certainly a hindrance to the important work being done, and I wasn't even allowed to go into the theatre and watch the surgeries so I lived my life up in this little room.

But today, I had had enough. My mind had been racing all day curious of what he was up to, what he was doing, and who he was with, I found myself catastrophizing the worst of everything and I knew the only way to stop myself from doing so was to know. So I put on a nice dress, did my hair and went down into the hospital as usual people bustling about the place so I checked his ward but, he wasn't there. I checked the theatre but no that was empty too. I began to get worried looking around the hospital trying to see him but I couldn't find him. Luckily I spotted Hetty the head nurse.

"Ohh Do excuse me Hetty,"

"Yes, Miss Y/l/n?" She asked stopping with her bucket in hand,

"Do you happen to uhh know where Dr Dawkins is?" I asked,

"Jack's in the morgue Y/n."

"Ohh, thank you." I smiled, turned on my heels and headed down to the morgue, all being said I was excited to see him. But when I got down there I noticed he wasn't alone, and I don't just mean the body.

He stood over a body in the process of some sort of practice, with... a woman. She was beautiful, In a dress likely worth more than everything I owned, they both glanced up at me and she didn't seem interested, he however gave me a look, he knew me and how my mind worked, and he knew he was in trouble. Immediately he put space between them.

"I know, please don't and let me explain." He began,

"Too late," I answered,

"What's going on?" She asked,

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Belle this is Y/n. Y/n this is Lady Belle Fox the governor's daughter."

"Right," She nodded, "And she's relevant becuase?"

"Becuase I'm his fiancé" I spoke up,

She laughed, "Really?"

"Yes." I snapped a little,

"You can't be serious?" She asked him, "Jack?"

"Jack?!" I asked him too,

"I did tell you I was... kinda engaged," he said sheepishly to her,

"Kinda!" I yelled,

"Engaged! No, you did not!" she complained,

"You never even mentioned me!"

"No, he didn't."

"We've been Engaged two and half years!"

"Well, you neglected to mention that."

I was so so enraged! and to be fair so was she, I'm sure to any outsider this would have been hilarious to have seen both Belle and I gang up on him, leaving him really without a side to choose or anywhere to turn. No matter what he did someone was gonna be mad at him.

"I uhh..."

"I'd choose your next words very carefully." She warned,

"Yeah, listen to the lady," I told him,

And his response, was that he simply just walked out. Refusing to deal with either of us. Leaving her and I alone.

"I am... So sorry Y/n, I had no idea."

"It's Alright Lady Belle,"

"If I'd have known I'd never have-"

"you didn't know I can't fault you for that," I reassured her, "Do you have feelings for him?" I asked even if it shredded my heart to ask, and she simply nodded, "That's all I need to know."

I left heading up to his room, but he wasn't there. So I grabbed a bag packed up everything of mine that was there, and I left.

I made the walk back to my little house, even if the weight of my items and the time since last making this trip it felt far longer than I remembered. I set my bag down and locked the door, my little house was dusty and cold but I slid down the door and began to cry my emotions overflowing as if a river had burst its banks, I cried for hours only interrupted by banging on the door and his voice.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n I know you're in there! open the door, Sweetheart!"

I didn't answer,

"Ughhh! Open it!"

I didn't answer,

"Uhhhhh for god sake! Open the bloody door!"

I didn't answer,

"I don't have time for this! Will you at least hear me out!"

I didn't answer,

"Ohh for - Fine!" He yelled and the banging stopped.

I made sure the door was locked and went to my bedroom, I lay on my bed and let my emotions flow, they took over me and I remained in this state all day, only broken by the next day at the same time, banging returned to my door.

"Y/n! Y/n sweetheart it's me! Just open the door."

I didn't answer,

"Y/n Open the door!"

I didn't answer,

"Open it Y/n for god sake!"

I didn't answer and after a while, his banging stopped.

But this continued, day after day, every day at the same time he would come and bang on my door shouting, pleading at me to open it. But I couldn't bear to do so. I barely ate. barely drank. Barely even moved. But I just sealed myself away trying to come to terms with it all. It had been a month and I knew the time and expected the usual pounding on my door but not today. Instead, I heard keys in a lock and footsteps down my hall. I forced myself up as they came to my door but I shut it and leaned against it unable to lock him out.

I heard him sigh and weigh against the other side of the door as he too slid down to the bottom of the door,

"You gonna listen to me now?"

"Get out of my house Jack."

"I will, I'll go. When you listen and not before."

"why are you here?"

"Same reason I've been here every day."

"I meant inside."

"Well... I figured we could chat in private, and if I'm inside you don't have much of a choice but to listen, and I'm not leaving till you do so, listen or not I'm staying."

"How'd you even get in?"

"I still have my spare key."

"I regret ever giving you that damn thing..."

"I don't know, it had its good uses."

"I don't have anything to say to you," I said, "I just want to be left alone..."

"I know you do," He sighed, "Strangely enough after three years of dating and two years of engagement I know you fairly well. I know this is your response when you are upset, you hide. You run and hide yourself away it's your response to stuff like this. You run and hide yourself in a corner and catastrophize yourself into a ball of fear, and tears and god knows what else..."

"I think this is a pretty good reason."

"I never said you weren't justified, Sweetheart." He said, "Not this time." He said, "Will you listen to me? Please."

"Fine." I sighed,

"Are you mad? or are you sad?"

"I was mad. Now I'm sad."

"Alright, I don't blame you... for being angry at me, I completely agree you should be angry at me, you should shout and scream and call me a bastard. I just don't want you to be upset."

"What do you care?"

"Becuase I don't want the woman I love to be upset with me."

"You don't love me..."

"I do. You think I'd come back, every day and bang on your door till my knuckles start bleeding for a month, If I didn't still love you."

I didn't have an answer so I didn't say anything,

"Yeah, I looked like a bloody nutter every day for a month." he chuckled, "I wouldn't have come back every day if I didn't."

"You could have gone to see her."

"I could. But I didn't I'm here with you, not with her." He said, "Besides she's mad at me."

"Can't imagine why."

"Ohh everyone's mad at me. You're mad at me, Belle's mad at me, Hetty's mad at me, Even Rotty at the pub is mad at me." he sighed, "I've managed to piss off every woman in port victory in one day."

"Well done."

"Thank you, I'm not proud of it."

"I take it you're doing the rounds then?"

"No. they can be mad at me I don't care, you're the only person I care about being mad at me."

"I am?"

"Well you and Hetty, but I care less Hetty is mad at me for emotional reasons its more... She's the head nurse. Have you ever tried doing surgery where your nurse is ignoring you, not talking to you, and actively wants you to fail, I don't care she's angry It's more just causing me logistical issues."

"Fair enough,"

"I don't care Belle's mad at me, she can be mad at me. I don't want you to be mad at me." He said, "You don't trust me do you..."

"It's a little hard to when you neglect to mention your engagement to a girl."

"I honestly forgot. It didn't cross my mind to mention it."

"So you don't think of me?"

"I think of you every day Y/n. I think of you as my wife so much I forget to even tell anyone else becuase to me it's just... so automatic I don't even think to tell people becuase I just know." He explained,

"Even if she liked you."

He chuckled, "How long did you like me before we started dating?"

"Two years..."

"Would think you'd have figured out I can't tell. The only time I know if a girl is interested in me is if she comes up, sits on my lap and says 'Hey wanna have sex with me' I'm a lot more oblivious to that sort of thing than you'd think I am." He chuckled, "Plus... I don't pay attention to whether other girls like me or not, I have you. So I don't really pay all that much attention."

"Why were you alone together?"

"She has this... germ theory we needed to cut a body open to check. She didn't know how I was teaching her,"

"Teaching her?"

"We didn't do anything I promise."

"And I'm supposed to just trust you."

"Yeah, If I'm going to be your husband... You have to trust me. and I know it's hard. and I know it hurts. and I know your mind and its catastrophizing make you always believe in disaster. But this is ever going to work, You have to trust me. Please"

For a moment I didn't know what to think,

I questioned whether or not to let my heart rule over my head, or my head rule over my heart,

But I got up and opened the door which surprised him as he had been leaning his back against it and was now lying on the floor looking up at me,

"Hi, Sweetheart."

"Hi, Jack."

"Are you... still angry at me?"

"Yes."

"Alright, but it's a start? right?"

"I will forgive you." I nodded,

"You will?" He asked getting to his feet, "I assume there's a but, or an if."

"There is an if."

"Which is?"

"You move in here, and we get married."

"And you'll forgive me?" He asked questionably,

"Yes,"

"... Okay," he nods slightly confused but clearly not going to argue,

"So you stay here, you come home at night, I always know if you're here or at work, and you wear a ring. That'll solve things." I said and I kissed his cheek as I went to the kitchen to make some tea, He soon followed and stood behind me a moment,

"You're sure?"

"Yes I am, That'll solve things, you live here you have to tell me where you go, I know when you're working or not, you sleep here with me, and you swear a ring, everyone knows you're taken. Besides... Two and a half jeans is a long time to keep a girl waiting about time we dealt with it, That agreeable with you?"

He wrapped his arms around me tightly and kissed my cheek hard, "That's a deal sweetheart."

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #artful dodger

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bhaalble · 6 months

Text

Sorry I keep posting about this but I really can't get over how there was a missed opportunity in not giving Gortash and Wyll more of an interpersonal relationship. We know Ulder didn't have a very high opinion of him but I do think depending on how Gortash was playing his cards his ideas might've held some initial intrigue for a younger version of Wyll Ravengard. Gortash has a tendency to position himself as a man of the people, reinvested in the safety of every day Baldurians. There's a way where he could even posture himself as an alternative to the Flaming Fist and their (mostly deserved) reputation for only protecting the patriars. I think at a glance that idea would catch Wyll's interest, considering his start as the Blade of Frontiers was largely about protecting those who no one else bothered to protect.

There's also Gortash's status as an outsider, something that I think would directly connect him to Ulder in Wyll's mind. Two men born outside the nobility, who unlike most of the politicians they work alongside had to work for every drop of status they got. Wyll left Baldur's Gate before Gortash's political career took off properly and he was allowed to be a little more open about his explicitly fascist politics. I think giving him some lingering fondness/reflexive defensiveness of Gortash could've made for some extremely interesting Act 2 and 3 conflict with him and Karlach. I don't think he'd be extremely defensive about it to her face, he'd be of course horrified what was done to her. But imagine him privately confiding in the player that he knows how easy it is to get in over one's head with devils. Is it not just as possible that he made a deal, like Wyll, with the best of intentions and, like Wyll, that deal had devastating consequences? It may be too early yet to cast judgement when he's not around to defend himself.

And then. You know. You find his dad under Moonrise and it becomes pretty clear.

I think it could really be another avenue through which to examine Wyll's personal connection to the city, especially the city's nobility. By Act 3 he is of course fully with Karlach on the stomp this fucker train. But there's a new weight now to the interactions with Gortash where he's present. Gortash is at first full politician trying to win him over. Wyll, you know how difficult your father can be, I don't WANT to tadpole him but you've seen for yourself how easily he can tunnel vision on his views of right and wrong. Baldur's Gate faces unprecedented problems, is it so unlikely that we need unprecedented solutions? Depending on player choices I can even see him leveraging his history with devils (and escaping them) to offer Wyll some alternative means to get out of his contract. Perhaps even reverse or cover up what Mizora's done to him appearance wise. The chance to be welcomed back into Baldur's Gate as its pride and joy, fully human, with a father finally happy to embrace you and a city in desperate need of heroes. All you have to do is swallow down the fact that it'll be premised on a lie.

I think it'd be a good way to bring forward the conflict of Wyll's act one personal quest, both by reiterating the conflict between Wyll and Karlach. And also by doubling down on the question that quests introduce. What will win out: your fear of the devil and your desire to buy into your own image as slayer of dragons killer of demons (and the heartless)? Or your own innate goodness and desire to do the right thing, even at extremely high costs?

#i always feel weird trying to write wyll as corruptible #understand the most corruptible thing about wyll is he genuinely wants to trust other people #even people who dont deserve that trust #anyways in my dream where you give wyll the chance to decide for himself #he does just deck gortash #wyll ravengard #enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

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mytheoristavenue · 10 months

Text

GOTG Yandere!Rocket Raccoon x Reader - The Things I'd Do

Summary: After a mission goes ary, ending with you badly injured, you become hyper aware of Rocket's violent tendencies.

Warnings: mentions of violence, character death, revenge killing, one sided love, yandere!Rocket, overprotective!Rocket, heavy angst, not proof read

God, did your head hurt. Actually, you hadn't had a migrane this bad in a long time, certainly not since you stopped drinking so much. This was no hangover, though. Your vision was blurry, and you were tired and light headed. This was a concussion, and a pretty severe one at that. Trying to crane your neck, you took in your surroundings; the ship's infirmary. How did you get here? You could hardly remember anything, other than going on a simple mission.

"(Y/N)..." a timid voice called from the entrance to the room. "You're awake..."

"M-Mantis...?" you croaked, straining to fully sit up, only to have her rush over and worriedly push you back down.

"No, no, please stay lying down!" she fretted in a hushed tone. "You are very hurt, you have to rest."

Reluctantly, you laid your head back down fully. "Can't be that bad," you joked weakly, eyes suddenly flickering to the machinery all around you. You weren't sure how you hadn't caught on until now, but there were needles supplying various things straight to your veins, wires monitoring your vitals, and your breathing was assisted by a mask. "I-It's not that bad, right?" The woamn stood quiet, somberly gazing at her feet. "Right, Mantis?"

"You are on life supposrt." she finally confessed, glancing up at you through her lashes for a second before looking away again. "We weren't sure you would make it..."

"How long has it been?" you finally asked, facing dead ahead, too stunned to even train your sight on her anymore.

"Two weeks and four days." she replied, still stiff as a board. "I'm sorry to bother you, I just came to check on you..."

"Don't be sorry," you finally said, cracking a sad smile. "I'm glad you're here, come here me get outta all this stuff, will ya?"

For a split second, her face lit up with the same joy it usually had and she made a motion towards you, before reaching out, only to fall short. Her expression suddenly morphed into panic and she back away from you at the sound of light footsteps. When the door opened to reveal what she must've been so affraid of, you were left with more questions than answers.

"Mantis," he barked, inhaling an irritated breath. "What did I say about this room?"

"N-No one in or out but you..." she stuttered, crumpling herself up in a corner, far away from both you and him.

"So you do understand, you just choose to go behind my back? Is that it?" Rocket's fur stoof on end with aggitation, which grew taller by the second.

"N-No, Peter asked me to-"

"I don't give a fuck what Quill said, get the fuck outta here before I-" his blood suddenly ran could, robbing him of all his anger and harsh words, giving her time to escape weeping. "You're awake." With that, you held his full attention as he padded closer to you, a weak grin splitting his face as he reached your hedside, hoping up on a stool to be closer toy our level.

You on the other hand were not as overjoyed to see him as he was you. You had shot up to sit, hugginy our knees during his outburst, having never heard him that upset. You'd seen Rocket angry- furious even- tons of times, but this was...malice and it was so unlike him. "Rocket...why did you yell at Mantis like that..." you asked in a cautous whsiper.

"I'm sorry ya had to see that, doll," he started, reaching both hands out to cup your cheeks. "I just been in here takin' care of ya and I didn't want anybody to screw anything up." he explained, taking on a gentle tone as one of his thumbs stroked your cheek. "I keep tellin' 'em to stay outta here but nobody ever listens to me."

"Rocket, you were really mean to her...you really should apologize." You pressed, wiggling away form his touch. "She was just worried and checking up on me."

Rocket sighed, sctraching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, doll, when you're right, you're right. I'll find her later." he relented, hoping down and scurrying over to a nearby table to pick up the tablet that had been collecting all the data on your condition. "So, how ya feelin'?"

"Not great," you admitted. "I have a really bad headache and..." It suddenly occoured to you to try and get more information about what had happened from him. "Hey, since you've been the one taking care of me, why am I on life support?"

"Well, i couldn't just let you die, could I?" he asked rhetorically with a laugh. "Honestly, you should be thanking you for bringing you back."

"Back from where." you muttered, more as a command than a question. He chuckled nonchalantly in responce, mimicking you while shaking his head. "Rocket." you warned sternly, making him halt, rolling his eyes as he turned to face you. "Where did you bring me back from?"

"Well..." he shifted awkwardly in place, rubbing the back of his neck. "You were dead." he finally confesed, blowing right past the revellation into more gruesome detail. "You had to fuck around and get your head beat in so I had to go in and..." His voice trailed off as your focus pulled away, horror washing over you. You had never been relgious, but you knew now that this was wrong. Your skin felt like it wasn't in place and your heart begin to feel like it didn't belong to you.

Rocket- someone you trusted- had gone and dragged you back from the dead, played God, who knows what else? You began to fold in on yourself, pulling your knees back to your chest in discomfort as your stare seems miles away. He could recognize the symmtoms of your oncoming panic attack before you could and he reached out to you, scurrying closer.

"Hey, Hey, don't go and freak out on me ok?" he urged, hopping up on the bed with you. "Try not to think about it too much, you're alive after all." He continued to talk while you mentally checked out, your mind entirely broken as you studied the skin on your hand. "And this is just the half of it." he said. "You shoulda seen how many of those knuckleheads I took out for you."

It was at this moment, while Rocket began to curl up in the crevice of your side that you noticed: In the reflective surface of a nearby tool tray, one of your eyes had changed color and the was nopciable scarring covering the largest portion of your face.

"Killin, takin' care of you. You got no idea the things I'd do for you, doll face."

#rocket raccon x reader #rocket raccon #yandere!rocket #rocket x reader #gotg #rocket raccoon x y/n #yandere!Rocket x reader #gotg vol 3

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elixrr · 2 months

Note

Here me out! So how about Kazuha getting reincarnated but he still remember his past life?

His past life where he has a lover (the reader) but both of them died in a tragic accident and Kazuha promise to meet them in another life.

But when Kazuha finally see them after many years of searching, his past lover doesn't remember him and the reader already have a family.

Of course he feels joy and pain. His happy to see them alive and happy with a new family, but he feels pain at the same time because his not the one by their side.

Thank you!

his love, yet left unanswered.

“ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.” ʜᴇ ᴄʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴜꜱʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. “ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?”

➥ kazuha x reader：angst

➥ angst / slight comfort

➥ word count：2.3k (with a twist...)

It's as he feared. Kazuha's breathed in, the cold air hitting his throat harsher than he wished it would. The stench of your corpse laid dead on the muddy grass of the garden, and each crop and flower was torn and ravaged, as though it were a personal vengeful attack on the house. Flashbacks of Tomo sprang and rang in his head the more he realizes that he had just lost someone else that he loved- yet, it was you, his love, his only one.

The trauma didn't let him hear the rustling of the grass and the squelch of the mud nearby. Tears welled in his eyes when he knelt on one knee and grasped your hand. He kissed his and your bloody, muddy ring, and he whispered a promise to you,

"We will meet again. One day, I promise to you, my maple."

"Finally, I found you." A voice calls from behind, and before Kazuha could even think to turn around, there's a thud. The mysterious person honing the mysterious voice had struck the back of Kazuha's head, and your love falls to the ground, unconscious, but still alive.

Yet, he was not granted the ability to live much longer. With a single bullet provided from the Fatui of Inazuma, he was gone.

But that was several years ago- close to half a century ago, as Kazuha wakes up on a comfortable bed with comfortable sheets. There is no blood; there is no mud. There is no death, and there is certainly no funeral being held for the two of you. He sighs, relieved as the nightmare has ended.

The smell of melted wax whisks near, and Kazuha sits up and turns to look towards the door. His nightstand catches his eye. A large cupcake stands by his pillows, and a notecard stands shorter by it, reading, "Happy 24th birthday, roomie!" From Tomo.

That's fun, Kazuha thinks, getting up and walking to the bathroom to start his day. It's a new day, a new year as a twenty-four year old, and a completely new life. Despite the reincarnation, he still looks around the same— just as Tomo and others like Heizou and Beidou do. He wonders if you'd still look the same, if you were also reincarnated.

He also wonders if you remember the old life, too.

Strangely, Kazuha is the only one who can remember his past life as the true Kaedehara Kazuha. Heizou is training to become a policeman, and he doesn't remember that he was a detective before. He's been recommended, though. Beidou is a pilot, and she definitely doesn't remember ever sailing the Crux. She did learn about its history, and she's definitely still a leader. Tomo isn't a swordsman; he has no current occupation, but he's been fascinated by blacksmiths. Kazuha doesn't know what to do with himself, except for the fact that he wishes to travel the world— but in current society, he would end up homeless without a job, and so he picked up a job at a local café.

In your past life, you loved your job. Would you still be who you were back then?

Kazuha spits out the watered-down toothpaste and flushes out the rest of it with water. He takes the used floss on the sink counter and throws it out, then cleans the counter. Kazuha then goes on with the rest of his morning routine with thoughts of you. He loved you then, and because he still retains memories of you, he loves you even now.

As his hair dries, Kazuha grabs his necessary belongings and goes outside, walking to the café. It's a beautiful café, too, and he smiles every time he walks into it. It's 11 AM, and he opens the café doors. There are only four customers inside, three of which ordered and received their drinks, and one of them hadn't. The three are familiar regulars, whereas the other customer looked unfamiliar, yet it's like he's known them all of his life. He ignores it and walks behind the counter, entering the backdoor.

"Kazu, you're here, finally! I just got this place opened!"

"Good morning, Yoimiya."

Yoimiya, once a girl obsessed with fireworks, is still obsessed with fireworks but now works at a café. Given that she's a familiar face, Kazuha had asked her once what she wanted to do for a living, and she told him that she'd keeping working at this café and that she'd absolutely love to work around all of Inazuma, trying to help prepare festivals and watch the fireworks.

"Oh, by the way," she interrupts his thoughts, "can you help that person over there? I've got some dishes to walk really quickly, I sorta messed up steaming the milk for someone over there, and the milk sorta got everywhere."

With a laugh, Kazuha agreed and came back to the counter. You were there, standing and on your phone, and Kazuha stopped.

"We will meet again, I promise to you, my maple."

"Hi!" Your smile shed more light than the sun itself.

"H- Hello. How may… I help you?"

With a glance at your phone, you told him what you wanted.

"Is that it—Will that be all?"

"Yeah- Oh, actually, wait. Can I have one of the café specialty snacks?"

Kazuha's smile grew. He's lovestruck again.

"Of course. Which one would you prefer?"

"You know what?" You shifted your posture, "Surprise me."

"Sure can do." Kazuha immediately took the dessert he recommended for the café to add. He remembered which ones you loved most from the past, so he taught his boss the easiest one to make and modified it specifically to your liking. On the digital register, he selected that specific dessert and gave you a discount for everything: 40% off for the employee discount.

"Aw, thank you!" Your smile grew, and you were visibly surprised. "You didn't have to do that for me."

"Of course, Y/N." I love you, after all.

"Wait- how'd you know my name?"

"Oh! I, uh, haha, I read it when you swiped your card. It appeared briefly on the register."

".. Oh, okay. That's okay. Well, I've got to ask now, what's your name?"

His smile began to dissipate. So you didn't remember, huh. He pauses momentarily, but he answers, "Kazuha."

"Well, that's a cute name. As you now know, I'm Y/N." He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't know how to respond— he thought you would've remembered, too. Quickly and kindly, he dismisses himself from the conversation and begins to make your drink. He does it perfectly, but there's no longer that everyday chill that he carries with him. His steps are cold, as cold as you were when you died that day. His movement seem more bitter than usual, much like the reeking smell of your blood in his nose; he as a whole shutters desolate, just as desolate as the house had become when the both of you had died. Did any of that matter anymore? Everyone is the same, but everyone is different now. Same names, same personalities, different tastes, different occupations, and different lives.

So, while you're Y/N, who are you?

"Your drink is ready, and here are the pastries."

"Oh!" You nearly spring out of the chair and pace over to the counter. "Thank you!"

Your smile brightens him up, and Kazuha isn't so downcast anymore. Courage creeps up to him, and, without much thought, he asks you,

"Say, how old might you be?"

"Huh? Oh, uh… I'll be twenty-eight soon." Kazuha jumps at the statement. You? Four years older than him?

"Oh! Are you sing—" mid-thought he wonders why he asked it, "—le…?"

"Uh, are you trying to hit on me?"

"Huh! Oh, no, no, no, I'm not, I was, well, just curious." Kazuha pulls an awkward smile and a comforting chuckle. Without a word, you shake your head and reveal your left hand.

A solid glowing, silver ring on your finger.

Kazuha's blood runs cold. His heart stops momentarily. You're… Married? An unfamiliar man and a younger kid walk into the café, but he doesn't notice entirely. Kazuha has been waiting for you his whole life after he learned that everyone from before was reincarnated. He's constantly been on a journey to find you, yet, because of his household, could barely venture out of his hometown to find you. You were his set goal in life, to find you, date you, and marry you again, but he was far too late. You were already married, and—

"Hello there! How may I help you two?" Yoimiya's bounciness distracts Kazuha, and he snaps out of his thoughts. You wave at Kazuha and sit back down to enjoy your drink.

"Oh, no, it's okay. I'm here for my love." The man smiles when he looks over at you, and he and the child walk towards you. The child, contrasting Kazuha's devastation, was more than delighted to see you. Kazuha watches you, his maple, kiss the man and greet your child. It seems that, when Kazuha was twenty and you were twenty-four, you had a child with this other man, and he was trying to find you desperately. He knows he should look away, something in his gut tells him to go to the back and hide away from the pain, but he watches as you grab the pastry he's made just for you and give it to your child, the product of another marriage, the product of you and another man.

Kazuha stumbles away, subtle tears forming in his eyes. He feels guilty for wanting you when you've already found your special someone. Why didn't he forget? Why did he have to remember everything, everyone, when nobody remembered him? Why did he think that you would be different?

Kazuha walks to the back, and Yoimiya continues to wash the extra dishes added on by Kazuha. After everything, he feels so selfish and useless. He had the feeling that he should let go and live life as it is now, but he wanted to see you. He wanted the chance, but there never was one. He feels as though the past twenty-four years of his life were wasted on a lover who never knew him and never loved him. From the frame of the door, he sees your husband hand Yoimiya the plate for the pastry. Kazuha walks over to the door and watches your husband and your kid leave. You walk back to the counter. Yoimiya enters the back to take a break, and Kazuha steps out to see you out.

"Kazuha." You begin.

"Y/N." He answers.

"I remember you, y'know? I had a feeling you remembered by the way you looked at me."

"You-" Kazuha's eyes are open wide now, "you remember?"

"Yes, I do."

Kazuha's heart swells with hope. "I- do… Do you still… are you still, uh, interested... in me?" You stand still at the words, and you say nothing for a few seconds until you shift your posture again and sigh.

"I'm married to someone else now. I'm sorry, but no."

He doesn't know why, but he suddenly blurts, "Why?"

"I looked for you for a while, too. I thought that you could remember me, and yes, you do, but I could never meet you in time. In fact, I met someone else before I met you." You close your eyes to reminisce properly, "I felt so selfish for catching new feelings because I still felt married to you. But then I saw people like Kokomi, Gorou, Teppei, and even Ayato move on with their lives. I found myself in love with another before I could find you first, and seeing everyone else forget and live left me to think that you probably forgot, too. And so I went with this new life, Kazuha."

A silence stands between the two of you. The air thickens, and there's a mutual yet different guilt in your hearts. You sigh, opening your eyes, and you see the distraught look in Kazuha's eyes. It's familiar. You were married to him for almost five years before your death, so you still remember. His mouth opens to speak, and you prepare yourself for it.

"I'm… I'm sorry that I couldn’t find you first." His voice is shaky and shattered.

"That’s okay. Actually, I want you to take this day and use it to forget and live, too."

"But I can't forget you, maple."

Your breath hitches at the nickname. You haven't heard the word maple like that in almost three decades.

"Then forgive me, forgive yourself, and let go." Your voice seemingly grows impatient. "You won't forget me for now, but you'll learn to truly live without me forever."

"I…" Kazuha is at a loss for words. You understand fully, and you give him your last soft smile.

"You'll learn, I know you will. Even if we run into each other again, you'll live. Besides, I'm moving away. It hurts to stray away from us, especially considering that you still love me years after not seeing me, but you'll do it. You'll always manage, no matter what."

"Can I at least tell you that I love you one more time?" Kazuha's tears finally break out and he breaks down in front of you. Instinctively, you reach out to comfort him like you used to do before, but you stop yourself. You have a new life with your new husband and your own kid. You aren't going back now.

"Don't. Please."

"Can you… Try the dessert? At least?" Kazuha's desperate.

You sigh for the last time. "I know it's my favorite. I'll… Take one. As a final goodbye."

Kazuha nods and goes to the back to get you the pastry, yet before the back door closes, the front door opens quickly and closes, too. He turns around.

You're gone.

You've been gone for a while.

And it's about time for him to move on.

–

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