#MIN MY BELOVED
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This is me declaring to the entire world that this is a Min Farshaw fan blog and yes, that IS about Book!Min and Iâll defend her with my life and if I hear any âsexy lampâ comments Iâll bite you. You are the ones diminishing her to only a sex object for Rand because you refuse to acknowledge her actual characterization and actions in the series and also apparently have never had a crush on a person.
#wheel of time#min farshaw#min my beloved#just a tiny bit of hostility#sorry I just saw one too many sexy lamp jokes about Min and got annoyed lol
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btw everyone who kins should make up ocs to ship with their kins it is literally so healing
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What a fine evening to go swim in the Bass Pro Shop Aquarium
#one piece#one piece fanart#monkey d. luffy#tony tony chopper#my fanart#elizabeths storytime#i was rotating this silly drawing in my brain for a min#bass pro shop aquarium my beloved <3
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NO CUZ WHAT'S HIS PROBLEM
#I HATE HIM#edit: reblogged this with a tied up sanji version đ hes so pathetic#ugh what is wrong with him#blonde men are woman to me /ref#is he okay#my beloved#one piece#op#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji vinsmoke#min watches one piece
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banned from woodwork class
#min draw#min move#minbitt#they took my wooden knife#belt sander my beloved#this is the closest i can get to living my blacksmith dreams
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âłÂ 8/30
#cap yoongi my beloved#min yoongi#yoongiedit#bts#btsgif#dailybts#dailybangtan#userbangtan#cyphernet#usersky#annietrack#heyryen#userdimple#userpat#tuserandi#useremmeline#uservans#usermaggie#*mine#myg
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I love them all.
#drdt#danganronpa despair time#drdt fanart#levi fontana#ace markey#whit young#charles cuevas#hu jing#eden tobisa#rose lacroix#teruko tawaki#xander matthews#arei nageishi#arturo giles#j moreno#veronika grebenshchikova#min jeung#nico hakobyan#levi fontana my beloved#levi fontana is the love of my life prove me wrong
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Thereâs no me that you used to know, thereâs no you who I used to know.
#btsgif#yoongiedit#min yoongi#suga bts#bts#bangtan#dailybts#cyphernet#usermizuoka#raplineuser#userdimple#useremmeline#usersevn#annietrack#dday tour my beloved#my gifs
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Omg!!! Guess who found some kumquats!!!
#myart#my art#loner vociferation#me things#wei wuxian#my beloved#wwx#wei ying#mdzs#fanart#meme#i took a pic when i went out yayayaya i found them kumquats for cheap?!#ahem... not its 599 rs but still#mo dao zu shi#mo dao su zhi#mdzs fanart#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation#the grandmaster of diabolism#procreate#yipee i had fun making this djdhbdbd#doodle#quick doodl#i literally sketched this thing in like 10 mins cuz erm assignments :(#k chill byeeeee
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Warm up doodles from last week
#yeah drawing the same stuff again and again#my beloved#anyway#it's hot im melting on my chair#right now#i wanna eat pizza#also strawberries are so cheap this season so i been drinking strawberry milkshake every#morning#life is good#rymin#rymin fanart#my art#ryan akagi#min gi park#infinity train fanart#infinity train#infinity train book 4#infinity train ryan#infinity train min
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my 7 âĄ
#btsedit#btsgif#bangtan#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#mine#mine:gifs#mine:ot7#inconsistent coloring my beloved<3
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I just want to post this on its own cuz. I did say Iâd struggle with the final boss didnât I. Hands were sweaty
#legend of zelda#tears of the kingdom#loz totk#link#ganondorf#and I meeeaaannn#suppose#ganlink#totk spoilers#I didnât get my beloved blade tipping up chin moment#but this sure made my heart stutter#sorry the sketch is so shit but I made it like 30 mins after finishing the game
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My Beloved Villain (JJK) ⢠Chapter 1
pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn fic rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: panic, trauma, blood, physical violence such as punch!ng, de@th of both parents + witnessing it + footage, Dojin has influence over law enforcement and whatnot, mentions of underground fight club and mafia, mentions of wounds, jealous Jungkook, autopsy lap, mentions of bodies, please lmk if I forgot something word count: ~ 5.1K
a/n: okay Angels, here's the first chapter *yeeey*! It's just a little warm-up to the story. Hope you enjoy âşď¸ a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! đ
prologue ⢠masterlist ⢠02
The warmth of the September sun wraps around you like a tender embrace as you sit on the wide field of grass of the campus park with your closest friends. The day is nothing short of perfect, yet their conversation drifts past you, lost in the gentle chorus of birdsong from the tall and old trees above. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, letting the sunâs rays and the dappled shadows of leaves play across your flushed skin. Somewhere in the distance, church bells toll at lunch hour, their echo both a call to mess and a cue of timeâs steady march. Itâs a peaceful moment, one that you savour with quiet reverence, knowing all too well that such moments are fleeting.
Taehyung rests his heavy head in your lap, his hair soft beneath your fingers as you play with his curls all while he relaxes before your next class. You remember the days when you begged him not to ruin his hair with dye, and back then, he didnât listen. But now, he leaves it natural, save for the perm that enhances the curls you adore so much. Itâs a small victory, even though this victory didnât arise from you, but won through his newfound obsession with colour analysis, face shapes and whatnot which youâre thankful for nonetheless.Â
But as your fingers weave through his hair, your mind drifts back, step by reluctant step, to a night youâd rather forgetâa night with the sight of Taehyungâs hair dyed an electric blue. You remember standing at the door of his familyâs home, drenched in the blood of your parents, clutching the CCTV footage your father had obsessively recorded of your houseâs every room. You never understood his need for those cameras, but that night, you were as grateful as you were traumatised.
Taehyung had opened the door after you rang their door bell repeatedly like a madman, his freshly dyed hair framing a face shocked to the core as he took in your pale, frightened expression and the dried blood covering you. Without a momentâs hesitation, he yanked you inside behind him by the front of your shirt, quickly glancing around to see if any neighbours were watching, and immediately shut the door behind you as if trying to shut out the nightmare you had brought with you.
âOh my God, ___! What the fuck happened to you?â he asked, his hands hovering above your shoulders, his eyes searching your body for injuries.Â
Fresh tears left your eyes then, carving paths through the blood on your cheeks. You didnât recognise your voice, feeling utterly alienated by its rawness as you stuttered out, âAuntieâŚUncleâŚâ
âMUM! DAD!â Taehyung belted without a second guess, he had always understood you, even when words failed.
He dragged you into the living room where his parents froze at the sight of you, the shock in their eyes mirroring the horror in your own fragile heart.
âWhat happened? ___, where are your parents?â your aunt inquired, her voice trembling before she even knew what happened. You couldnât bring yourself to answer, couldnât force the words past the lump clogging your throat. How could you tell her what had happened not only to her sister but your whole family?
Instead, you forced your hand up, clutching the CCTV footage with all your strength, terrified it might disappear. It took every ounce of your willpower to pry open your cold fingers and offer the device to them.
On high alert, your uncle and aunt stepped closer. Your aunt, unable to tear her eyes from your dilated vibrating pupils, remained frozen by your side. With concern etched across his face, your uncle gently took the device from your trembling hand, retrieved his laptop, and plugged the footage in at the coffee table, all the while your aunt stayed close, her gaze never leaving you.
âHoney, should we get you cleaned up?â your aunt bid you softly, attempting but stopping just after she moved to caress your hair as she always did, sensing you were too fragile to be touched.
You shook your head, only pointing to the laptop for her to just watch. She turned just in time to see the front door of your house being kicked in on the screen, in another frame, your father shoving you into a closet in a desperate attempt to protect you.
Slowly, you all gathered around the laptop as if hypnotised by itâs screen, the room falling silent as the footage played, each of you transfixed by the horror before your eyes. The door to your parentsâ bedroom burst open on the screen, and as Dojin with his bodyguards began their brutal assault, your uncleâs grave voice broke through the spell, âTaehyung, take ___ upstairs and clean her up.â
âBut, DadâŚâ
âNow!â he boomed, and with difficulty to get his eyes off the screen, Taehyung led you away from the gruesome repeat of a nightmare.
In the bathroom, he cleaned you with a soft cloth, washing the blood from your hair over the sink as best as he could, all while moving quickly. After, he brought you a fresh set of his clothes to change into, meanwhile you sat motionless on the closed toilet seat, staring ahead like a broken and lost doll.
When you finally emerged, clean and dressed, the house was eerily quiet, save for the sound of your auntâs anguished sobs echoing from downstairs. Her cries tore at your heart, ripping open the fresh wound that was your new reality.
You had become an orphan in the blink of an eye. Dojin had taken your parents from you, the people who had meant everything to you, without a momentâs warning or a care in the world.
You sat down at the top of the stairs, where Taehyung held you as you silently wept, his gaze fixed on the distant flickering of the laptop screen. From where you sat, the details were blurred, but you could still make out the terrible truth captured by the CCTV cameras.
Soon after they finished watching the recording, you all drove to your house. You couldnât quite grasp why; they had seen the footage to the end and knew there was no one left to save. You remember sitting in the backseat with Taehyung, watching the houses you passed, each one brimming with life and laughter, happy families enjoying their evening together. All the while, your world had come to a standstill, shattered into pieces like fragile glass, leaving everything around you feeling devastatingly meaningless.
Throughout the drive, your uncle tried calling the police. The first time he reached an officer, the line abruptly disconnected as soon as he mentioned your parentsâ names.
âHe just hung up.â Your uncle frowned, glaring angrily at the display on the centre console.
âMaybe the signal was lost. Try again,â your aunt reasoned quietly, trying to hold on to hope, though her voice had already faded into a broken whisper. But as the subsequent calls went unanswered or were immediately declined, it became painfully clear that the mayorâs influence reached far and wide, and with it, any hope of retribution was snuffed out.
When you arrived, your house was already burning down in hot raging flames, the crackling drowning out your inner screams. The police present dismissed you once more, leaving you more powerless and desperate than you ever felt.
Weeks passed as you lived with your relatives. Taehyung gave up his bed for you, sleeping on an inflatable mattress nearby. You recall fragments of the funeral, the strain of attending school while keeping your grades intact, and the mask you wore for the public as you fought against the official statement that your parents had perished in a fire caused by a forgotten stove. But after weeks of crying, mourning, and desperately seeking justiceâwhether through the authorities or the mediaâall your efforts proved futile.
One night, unable to bear the helplessness any longer, you lay awake until the weight of your anger and agony drove you to action. You dressed in silence and ventured into the city, determined to find someone who could help. The despair and fury within you pushed you toward desperate measures, and you knew then that justice would have to be taken into your own hands to rid the city of its devil.
It took seven nights before you stumbled upon an underground fighting club, where Kim Seokjin, the owner and Godfather, took an immediate interest in you. To your surprise, he listened to your story and agreed with your perspective, though he refused to let you fight alongside what he disdainfully called âthose Neanderthals.â Instead, he trained you in private. It was during your first session, when you were obviously hurt for the first time in your life, that you discovered a rare condition you had inheritedâone that left you unable to feel pain.
NTRK1, a mutation in your genes that prevents the development of certain nerve cells. You learned that your mother shared this mutation, explaining her stoicism on that fateful night, and that your father had been a carrier of the same mutation.
It was truly absurd how this condition swiftly elevated your skills, almost as if it were in agreement with your darker side and wanting to pull you to your full potential. You learned with remarkable speed and efficiency, especially how to assess the severity of your injuries without the sensation of pain as a guide.
Nearly two years later, Taehyung uncovered your secret as he caught you throwing up blood in the toilette after you arrived home early in the morning from training when the sun hasnât even risen just yet. The confrontation was intense, but he eventually accepted your decision after days of radio silence and evil side-eyes, and supported you as best as he could, even if it meant simply covering for you in front of his parents or hiding your bruises with makeup where you couldnât reach them.Â
When you started medical school, you were relieved that Seokjin allowed you to leave with an arsenal of weapons of your choice, though you knew all too well that his acceptance came with a debt attached.
The vibration of Taehyung's laughter pulls you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present, where the sounds of the world around you slowly come back into focus. The gentle rustle of leaves, the distant tolling of church bells, and the low hum of conversations among other students fill your consciousness once more. You open your eyes, blinking against the dappled sunlight that filters through the trees above, and glance down at Taehyung.Â
His laughter is infectious, his face half-hidden behind one hand as if trying to contain his mirth, but failing miserably. His other hand clutches his stomach, his entire body shaking with the force of his laughter. His eyes are squeezed shut, and the corners crinkle with joy, the lashes fluttering as his laughter bubbles over like a tsunami hitting the shore. His lips, stretched wide in a broad grin, reveal the perfect rows of his white teeth, something you both inherited from your mothers, and the sound that escapes him is rich and full-bodied, resonating deep in his chest, a melody that never seems to tire. Itâs the kind of laughter that makes you want to join in, regardless of whether you know the joke.
You tear your gaze away from him and look up, taking in the scene around you. Your friends are gathered in a loose circle on the grass, all high-achieving students like yourself, brought together by your shared aspirations and ambitions. âBirds of a feather flock together,â they say, and on the surface, it might appear true. But only Taehyung knows what truly lies beneath your carefully constructed exterior, the only legacy of your happy childhood.Â
Like you, Taehyung was a remarkable student in high school, his ambition clear as he set his sights on a career in the medical field as well. In those early semesters of med school, his passion for perfection became his guiding force, leading him to specialise in plastic surgeryâa choice that suits him as seamlessly as a lid fits its pot. Taehyung embodies beauty, his eye for aesthetics almost uncanny, each detail observed with an artist's precision. His finesse in sculpting is flawless, and the way heâs able to seamless stitch skin upâa skill heâs honed on you over the years, using you as his more or less willing test subject after all the injuries you enduredâstands as a testament to his natural talent and the field heâs chosen, one where art and science blend in perfect harmony.
Yoongi is sprawled out lazily on the grass to the left of you both, one arm bent behind his head as he taps away on his phone with the other. His expression is indifferent, almost bored, as if the conversation around him holds no interest. But you know better. Yoongi is always listening, always aware. His sharp, calculating mind misses nothing, a quality that makes him perfect for the path heâs chosenâneurosurgery. He carries himself with a quiet confidence, a subtle superiority that others might find off-putting, but which you have come to admire. His brilliance is undeniable, his genius almost intimidating, and in many ways, youâve taken a leaf out of his book, learning to project the same calm authority when needed.Â
Next to him sits Hoseok, or Hope as everyone of the friend group calls him. Heâs also engrossed in Yoongiâs phone, his face full of concentration as if the device was his or holds the secrets to the universe. Hope is destined to be a heart surgeon, a choice that fits him as well perfectly. He once told you that he wanted to mend broken hearts, to give hope and love to those who needed it most. Itâs a noble goal, and one that suits his gentle, empathetic nature. Yet, at this moment, heâs as distant as Yoongi, the two of them forming a quiet duo on the edge of the group, absorbed in their own worlds.
Jennie sits directly across from you, her eyes fixed on you with an expectant expression. Sheâs a vision of meticulous care, her skin glowing under layers of sunscreen, her large sun hat casting a protective shadow over her beautiful, doll-like face. Jennie is training to be a dermatologist, and it shows. Her otherworldly radiance aligns perfectly with her chosen field, as does her keen eye for aesthetics and detail. Sheâs the kind of person who never steps into the sun without a shield, and you can spot others like her scattered across the field, equally guarded against the elements. Itâs amusing, really, how easily you can identify someoneâs future specialty with just a glance.
And then thereâs Jeon Jungkook, the quietest of the group but perhaps the most intriguing. Heâs sitting not far from Jennie and on your right, his dark hair parted neatly in the middle, the short strands catching the sunlight and shining with a healthy sheen. His eyes, large and expressive, are fixed on you with an intensity that never fails to catch you off guard. He rarely speaks, yet thereâs a quiet strength in his presence, a steadfastness that draws you in.Â
Like you, heâs pursuing a career in trauma paediatric surgery, a demanding path that youâve shared since the beginning of your studies. Though you donât talk much, thereâs an unspoken understanding between you as the only two students specialising in this extremely rare field, a bond forged through countless hours in the same classes, the same labs, and the same late-night study sessions. His gaze remains locked on yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The eye contact is so intense it leaves you a little breathless, a little unsettled, his dark eyes holding yours with a quiet question you canât quite decipher as he cocks his head to the side. Heâs toying with his teeth, his lower lip caught between them as if heâs waiting for somethingâfor you to say something, to answer a question you didnât hear.
âHuh?â you ask, glancing around the group, feeling a little disoriented. Jennieâs raised eyebrow brings you fully back to the moment.
âI asked if you and Tae are dating or what? You live together, and now this,â Jennie says, gesturing to where Taehyung is still snuggled against your thigh, his laughter finally subsiding into quiet giggles as your fingers still absentmindedly play with his hair.
You snort, amused by the absurdity of the question. Before you can answer, Taehyung starts laughing again, the sound bubbling up like a toy dollâthe kind that never seems to run out of laughter, perhaps something like a Laughing Elmo, the comparison would definitely fit perfectly. The ridiculousness of it all hits you, and you canât help but join in, your laughter mixing with his in a joyful belting that rings through the air.
When the laughter finally dies down, you wipe the tears from your eyes, still grinning as you look back at Jennie and Jungkook. Jennieâs expression is a mix of irritation and curiosity, a reaction that doesnât surprise you. Sheâs never hidden her infatuation with Taehyung, a sentiment sheâs held since your freshman year. But what does surprise you is the similar look on Jungkookâs faceâsomething close to annoyance that gives you pause. You clear your throat awkwardly, trying to stifle the last remnants of giggles that threaten to escape.Â
âWeâre cousins, Jen,â you say, the words slipping out between breaths as you attempt to regain your composure.
The surprise on Jennieâs face is immediate, her mouth dropping open slightly, while Jungkookâs expression softens into one of mild disbelief. Yoongi, whoâs been silent all this time, glances your way with a knowing smirk, his eyes glittering with amusement. Hoseok, Taehyung, and you canât help but start laughing again, the absurdity of the situation too much to keep in.
âOhâŚâ is all Jennie manages to say, a flush of pink rising to her cheeks in embarrassment. âI didnât know.â
You shrug, still smiling as you reply, âNo one really does. It doesnât matter much, does it?â
Jungkookâs eyes meet yours once more, a subtle smile playing on his lips, his eyes shining with something that looks like relief. You donât quite understand why the relief is so evident in his gaze, but it has a calming effect on you as well. You send him a small smile in return, a silent exchange thatâs broken only when Yoongi groans and begins to rise from the grass, his movements slow and lethargic, like an old man who has trouble moving with age.
âWeâve got class, kids. Get up,â Yoongi announces, his voice dry as he stretches, his joints cracking loudly in the otherwise quiet air.
Reluctantly, you all begin to gather your belongings. Jennie links her arm through yours as you stand, a gesture thatâs as familiar as it is comforting. Taehyung trails behind her, still chuckling softly to himself, while Jungkook falls into step beside him, slightly to your side. Itâs something youâve noticed beforeâJungkook always seems to gravitate toward you when the group is together, as if drawn by some invisible force. Youâve dismissed it as a byproduct of your shared major, nothing more than a coincidence of proximity. But thereâs a part of you that canât help but wonder if thereâs something more to it, something unspoken that lingers in the spaces between you.
Yoongi and Hoseok lead the way, Hope talking animatedly as always, his hands gesturing in the air as he makes a point. Everyone instinctively makes space for Yoongi as he walks, his presence commanding a quiet respect that few others can match. The group moves as one, a well-practised rhythm that speaks of years spent together, each of you falling into your familiar roles as you head toward the autopsy lab.
The path is well-trodden, the grass worn down by the passage of countless students over the years. The midday sun sits high in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the campus, the air thick with the full warmth of the day. Despite her sunscreen and wide-brimmed hat, Jennie still shields her face with her free hand. You walk in silence for the most part, the only sounds the rustle of leaves overhead and the distant chatter of other groups making their way to their respective classes as well.
As you approach the lab, the building standing proud in its massive built, its stone facade weathered by time, ivy creeping up the walls in a silent conquest. The heavy wooden doors stand open, the cool air inside beckoning after the warmth of your lunch break as you step inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic and old books hitting you immediately, a smell thatâs become synonymous with your studies.Â
The group disperses slightly as you each head to your lockers, retrieving the necessary equipment for the class. Jennie is still linked to your arm, her earlier embarrassment forgotten as she chatters away. Taehyung is beside her, humming to himself as he pulls on his lab coat, his hair a dishevelled mess from where youâve been playing with it.
Jungkook, as always, lingers close by, his presence natural, almost indispensable. His movements are precise, each action deliberate as he retrieves his lab coat and other small materials, methodically preparing for the class ahead. Thereâs an ease to the way he handles everything, a confidence that doesnât leave you room to breathe steady. Even in these seemingly mundane moments, he exhibits a meticulousness that reflects his commitment to mastering the complexities of the field, and itâs this very dedication, this quiet intensity, that first drew you to him.
Youâve always admired his unwavering determination that reflects your own, the way he approaches each task with such care, precision and intelligence. Itâs no wonder that over time, those feelings of admiration began to multiply like tumour cells, developing into a quiet crush that youâve never quite managed to shake. His character, his relentless pursuit of excellence, and that calm, assured demeanourâthese are the things that have captivated you, leaving you secretly drawn to him in ways youâve yet to fully understand. Even now, as his gaze occasionally drifts in your direction, though he says nothing, thereâs a desire for him you canât ignore, a magnetic pull that keeps your attention fixed on him, even as you all prepare for the class ahead.
You exchange a few words with Yoongi and Hoseok, the latter of whom is still engrossed in whatever conversation heâs been having with Yoongi, though itâs clear Yoongiâs mind is already in the lab, his focus sharpening as the thrill to dissect draws near. The energy in the room shifts as everyone dons their lab coats, seriousness descending as you prepare for the new semester.
You step into the autopsy lab with your friends and two other students whose names escaped you long ago, the cold, sterile air immediately wrapping around you like an welcome embrace you longed for all summer break as your steps squeak on the tiled and freshly cleaned floor. The harsh fluorescent lights bathe the room in its pale glow, illuminating the gleaming steel of the dissection tools and tables that stand waiting, four in total, each an empty stage for the work that will soon begin. Mr. Choi stands by one of the tables, looking as though he could be mistaken for a cadaver himself, his skin drawn and pallid, eyes sunken into deep sockets. His expression is as lifeless as the bodies soon to be laid out before you.
"Good morning, everyone," he greets, his voice a flat monotone that does little to lift the sombre atmosphere as you and the others line up instinctively, muscle memory guiding you to your usual places from previous semesters. Without a word, he tosses a small tub of Vicks VapoRub toward Yoongi, who catches it with effortless accuracy, not even glancing up from his phone.Â
As Mr. Choi begins his customary review of the last semester, recapping the techniques and knowledge youâve all supposedly mastered, the tub of ointment makes its way down the line. One by one, each student takes a small amount, dabbing it beneath their nosesâor in Taehyungâs case, smearing it more liberally into his nostrilsâto block out the inevitable stench of decay and death that permeates these walls. When it reaches you, you pass it straight to Jungkook, not bothering to use any yourself. Jungkook's tattooed hand hovers in place when he realises youâve skipped it, his brow arching in that familiar, questioning way.
âYou sure?â His voice is low, soft, the kind of voice that always makes your pulse quicken slightly. He holds the tub out to you, lingering a moment longer than necessary as he waits for your response.
You shake your head, declining the offer with a small, dismissive gesture. ââS fine, thanks,â you murmur. The smell of death has never bothered youânot since the night you were bathed in your parents' blood, not since Seokjin showed you what true decay smells like and what the sound of an infinite number of flies sound like. In some twisted way, the scent is almost comforting now, a reminder of your secret purpose.
Jungkookâs eyes search yours briefly, but he doesnât press further. âOkay,â he says, his voice just above a whisper as he takes a small amount of the ointment and rubs it along his perfect Cupidâs bow, the menthol sheen catching the light momentarily before he caps the tub and passes it along to Ben.
âThis semester, ladies and gentlemen,â Mr. Choi resumes, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic note of enthusiasmâor perhaps itâs just your imagination, âweâre going to spice things up a little. Youâll be working in pairsâwell, Iâll be assigning the pairsâand together, youâll dissect two of our friends here over the course of the semester. Each pair will be responsible for writing a detailed report on both dissections, and these reports will determine your final grade for the class.â
The room erupts into a low murmur of excitement, with a few claps and cheers punctuating the otherwise grim mood. You join in half-heartedly, your mind already racing ahead, wondering who youâll be paired with. Ideally, youâd be matched with Taehyung, Yoongi, or Jungkookâpeople whose work ethics and routines align with yours, whose presence wouldnât be a distraction. But as the names are called, you can feel your anticipation teetering on the edge of anxiety.
Mr. Choi pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his lab coat, squinting at the list of names. âFirst pair: Ben and John.â
One of the unfamiliar students immediately speaks up, correcting in a flat tone, âMy nameâs Juan, sir.â
Thereâs a smattering of laughter around the room, and you feel Taehyung lean in toward you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, âSame same but different.â
Jungkook chuckles quietly beside you, and you have to elbow both of them, suppressing your own giggles like the hypocrite you are. The room settles down as Mr. Choi offers a terse apology, the faintest hint of embarrassment colouring his otherwise lifeless expression.
âNext pair,â Mr. Choi continues, âI would call this one mind and heart.â He chuckles at his own joke, though the room remains silent. âYoongi and Hoseok.â
The two men exchange a high five, their smiles wide as they pull each other into a brief hug, their deep friendship between them clear in their mutual excitement. You canât help but smile at the sightâthereâs something infectious about their excitement, something that makes the dark work ahead seem like a walk on rainbows.Â
Mr. Choi scans his list again. âNext pair, our future beauty doctors: Jennie and Taehyung.â
Your eyes shift to Taehyung and Jennie as they turn to each other, their faces lighting up with matching smiles that seem to glow with a warmth that could almost outshine the harsh overhead lights. Itâs a look that makes you realise something you hadnât noticed beforeâan attraction Taehyung seems to have for Jennie that youâve been oblivious to until now. You silently root for them, hoping this shared project might be the catalyst for something more.
And then it hits you, like a slow dawn creeping over the horizon. The only ones left are you and Jungkook. The realisation wipes the smile from your face, leaving you with an odd mix of anxiety and anticipation twisting in your gut.
âAnd last, but certainly not least,â Mr. Choi announces, âour future superheroes who will someday save all the children: ___ and Jungkook.â
Your heart skips a beat as you turn to face Jungkook, whoâs already looking at you with a grin so wide it crinkles the corners of his eyes. His ears, you notice, have turned a vibrant shade of red, a sure sign that heâs just as affected by the pairing as you are. That gleam of triumph in his eyes, the kind that says heâs more than pleased with this outcome, makes your own smile waver. You force yourself to reciprocate, though youâre acutely aware of how hard itâs going to be to stay focused on your work with him so close, day after day. Something you previously ignored in its fullest. Thereâs something between you, something unspoken but oh so real, an longing that you canât afford to let bloom. Not when you know that no sane person would ever truly love a killer, someone who hides a part of themselves so dark and twisted that full honesty is an impossibility.
Mr. Choi continues, oblivious to the turmoil beneath your composed exterior. âYouâre free to use the lab whenever you need to. The first autopsy and report must be completed and handed in within six weeks.â He strides over to the cadaver cooler and, with a theatrical flourish, pulls open two of the stainless steel doors. The sound of the vacuum seal breaking echoes through the room, and two bodies slide out on their own, propelled by the sudden rush of air.
Glancing around at the faces of his studentsâsome pale with nerves, others flushed with excitementâa ghost of a smile playing on Mr. Choiâs lips as he quips, âMay the odds be ever in your favour.â
prologue ⢠masterlist ⢠02
a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! đ
a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters đ also - character asks and drabble requests are open
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#fic: my beloved villain#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts army#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jjk x reader#dark romance#villain!AU#hero!AU#superhero!AU#bts hero#bts villain#bts smut#jjk x you#jjk#jjk smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#bts taehyung#bts kim taehyung#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts suga#thebtswritersclub
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for the dj lovers including myself đđ
#gummiart#cookie run#cookie run breakout#cookie run ovenbreak#crob#dj cookie#im ngl its been a min#i dont remember how i drew them#also happy pride monthh yipeee#dj my beloved
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i think the dead cells show would've been a lot better if it had more characters from the game in the show. surprisingly, it sometimes comes frustratingly close to including a cool character from the game, but just.. doesn't.
for example, in episode 6 the main characters get trapped in a "time loop"/weird hypnosis thing by someone.
and when they break out of the time loop they wake up in a clock tower, which looks like this:
dead cells also has a clock tower! it looks like this, and in it lives The Time Keeper, who uses time magic to create time loops.
so then, surely, this episode is about The Time Keeper? and that's her in the first picture, with a different outfit...?
WRONGGGG!!!!!!!!!
that is the character "Indexa", who does not exist in the game. Besides her name and appearance, she has no other traits that differentiate her from the The Time Keeper from the game. The Time Keeper does not appear anywhere in the show.
it would have been literally such an easy change - to keep the original design and name! in my honest opinion, it would have done the show a favor - there are basically only TWO characters that are from the game! the rest is made up!
so WHYYYY THE HELL DIDN'T THEY PUT TIME KEEPER IN!!!! YOU DON'T HAVE TO MAKE BOOTLEG DEAD CELLS CHARACTERS YOU'RE MAKING THE DEAD CELLS SHOW!! ABOUT DEAD CELLS!!!
BOOOO!!!
p.s. and i hate indexas dumb ass bow and arrow that she never even fucking fires!!!!!!!!
#dead cells#the time keeper#dead cells immortalis#ive been staring at those last 2 paragraphs for like 20 min being so angry i didnt even know what to write#RAHHHH#i know this is not that big a deal but like im just thinking#what the fuck were they cooking#'oh boy i love it when my beloved character gets remade into an ugly design with a joke name and no interesting changes or iterations!'#SAID NO ONE IN THE WORLD EVER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#txt#long post
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become ungovernable
#min draw#monkie kid#mk#mei#red son#traffic light trio#a few oldies but#wanted to make a photoset of my personal faves of the trio#mei in her racer outfit my beloved
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