#and then promptly imagined an au where he was a side character. kind of a bruh moment for me tbh but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carsonian · 10 months ago

Text

Carsonian's 2023 SteveTony Fics [Masterpost]

In 2023, I wrote a total of 244,222 words spread across 32 fics. That's uhh a lot.

Open the envelope below for a comprehensive fics recap.

[NO FICS IN JANUARY]

FEBRUARY

"No Return, No Return" | 18,231 words | T | 5 Feb

In many ways, Tony Stark has spent his whole life waiting to meet something real enough to test himself against. He hadn't planned on it being Steve Rogers. (A re-imagining of Steve and Tony pre-/post-Avengers (2012) with a spotlight on their relationship.)

"Who's Gonna Love You, Baby?" | 1,814 words | M | 13 Feb

"It's Valentine's Day today." Steve says, hand fanning out in a stilted, explanatory gesture to a storefront decorated with bouquets of red and pink flowers. A glossy "Happy Valentine's Day" is sprawled in an elegant font across the window. "...Yeah? Didn't you—" Tony looks Steve over, "Oh. You didn't know." (Steve forgets about Valentine's Day. Tony reassures him that there's still plenty of time to celebrate.)

"A Wish Your Heart Makes" | 2,041 words | M | 22 Feb

The absolute last thing Steve's expecting is Tony Stark, and so it's fairly in character for the man to be standing on the other side of the door. "Hi." Tony looks impatient, greeting barely out before he's walking past Steve and into the apartment.

MARCH

"Fed Love From A Spoon" | 1,319 words | M | 4 Mar

Steve wakes up slowly. (Or, The accidental moments that move a relationship further, make its foundations stronger.)

"Since We've Been Together" | 1,788 words | T | 13 Mar

"Marry me." On his life, he couldn't tell how the words came out. Whether they were loving or demanding or whispered. He only knew that once they left his lips, the following breath came as easy as his first one right after receiving the serum. (Steve proposes to Tony, right after a battle.)

"Never Let You See (Baby, What You Mean To Me)" | 12,881 words | M | 15 Mar

Steve Rogers' life was the kind of romantic comedy that most people would find themselves cringing out of watching after the first twenty minutes. (A.K.A. the summer camp fic where Steve is a pining mess, Tony is an unrepentant brat, and there's a game of prison break to be won.)

"We Tell You, There's No Substitute!" | 2,911 words | T | 19 Mar

Steve pulled the door open. "I didn't know where else to go." Tony said brokenly. Steve promptly shut the door.

[NO FICS IN APRIL & MAY]

JUNE

“Ain’t It A Shame, Too Bad?” | 4,505 words | G | 8 Jun

On his twenty-fourth birthday, Tony was saved from drowning by a man he has yet to find. In other news, Tony’s fallen hard for the mute, scrawny blond that washed up on his kingdom’s shoreline two-and-a-half days ago. These two things can’t possibly be related, can they? (Spoiler(s): They’re related.)

“One Final Surprise” | 1,588 words | G | 18 Jun

Tony accidentally calls Steve from the flip-phone after his wedding gets called off.

“Take Two: It Takes Two” | 1,234 words | G | 18 Jun

Steve and Tony navigate the ups and downs of their first date. (Post-Endgame!AU)

“Forgive The Winters, Keep No Records” | 8,833 words | T | 18 Jun

Tony recovers from his twenty-three days in space. Guess who volunteers to help him through it?

“You Can Never Get Enough (Enough Of This Stuff)” | 3,554 words | G | 25 Jun

“No effing way.” Tony deadpans. “Tony!” Steve wheels around, arms thrown out in splendiferous delight, “Hey, everybody, it’s Tony!” (A.K.A. Steve gets drunk off Asgardian liquor and broadcasts his feelings towards Tony in the most ridiculous manner. This is incredibly confusing for Tony.)

JULY

“Sees You The Same As Before” | 2,886 words | T | 3 Jul

Tony’s been dating Steve for five months and thinks he’s got their relationship totally worked out when Steve starts bringing up random moments from their past. Tony has a very normal reaction to it. For the prompt fill: things you said after we fell in love

“Such A Feelin’ That My Love (I Can’t Hide)” | 2,765 words | G | 5 Jul

Steve’s birthday wish is to go on a date with Tony. He has to win him over first. For the prompt fill: AvAc Steve’s birthday

“Be Their Own Star Witness” | 9,017 words | M | 14 Jul

Leading up to their wedding, Steve and Tony make a pact not to start any arguments with each other. This is a problem. Tony finds a unique solution, and Steve reaps the benefits. For the prompt fill: things you said when you thought I was asleep.

“Transcendental Blues” | 1,177 words | G | 17 Jul

The best place to be after an argument with your partner is in the collapsed ruins of a building. Having said partner as your only company and being mortally wounded is an especial bonus. For the prompt fill: trapped together while one of them is injured

AUGUST

“I Can See Clearly Now The Blindfold’s Gone” | 3,577 Words | M | 1 Aug

“Then, without further ado, I’d like to offer my sincere congratulations to the two of you for winning the all-expenses paid date.” “What?” Steve straightens. “Pass.” Tony says at the same moment. (A.K.A. Modern, No Powers AU where Steve and Tony go on everyone’s favourite internet shitshow, “The Button”.) For the prompt fill: blind date au

“Just Wanna Feel Your Touch (When It’s Cold)” | 1,339 words | M | 16 Aug

Steve’s got a press conference to deal with but he’s more worried about Tony’s cold hands. Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Rescue Me”

“'Cause It’s You and Me (and All of the People)” | 8,945 words | T | 19 Aug

Steve and Tony discover that they’re soulmates in their senior year of high school. As they wrestle with this realisation and try to build out a genuine relationship in the backdrop of high school nonsense and college admissions stress, they’re met with a ridiculous number of hurdles in the form of every friend in their circle recruiting them as “fake dates”. (A.K.A. the high school soulmates AU where they keep getting pulled into fake dating schemes for other people, told in a chatlog / texting format) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “WTF”

“We Just Keep Going” | 1,829 words | M | 23 Aug

A coda to “Here I Am & Here You Are” where Steve and Tony go and visit the Chip 'n Dale duo in New Orleans. (A.K.A. Established relationship, banter-y nonsense.)

“Must Admit I’m Out of Bright” | 2,606 words | T | 25 Aug

Steve’s got a handful of bullets in his abdomen and Stark’s looking at him all funny. Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Pain”

SEPTEMBER

“The Remarkable People Initiative & The Zugzwang Dilemma” | 64,297 words | E | 6 Apr-1 Sep

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark first met as promising candidates of The Remarkable People Initiative when they were children. Twenty-four years later, Tony shows up at Steve’s doorstep. (The Mysterious Benedict Society AU.)

OCTOBER

“Only Natural to Harden Up” | 33,575 | E | 19 Sep-5 Oct

As they’re settling into their new relationship, Steve opens up to Tony about a fantasy he’s long had of Tony in lingerie. This awakens some new insecurities in Tony, and he’s left weighing how to indulge Steve’s interest without ruining their hard-earned intimacy. (Post-Endgame, Everyone-Lives-AU; established but developing relationship.)

“Stupid Mouth Shut” | 16,473 words | T | 13-29 Oct

Tony invites Steve out for a coffee, and during their conversation, Steve starts to suspect that Tony’s going to confess that he has feelings for him. This freaks Steve out, seeing as he’s never even thought of Tony in that way, and is now going to have to reject him, possibly ruining their friendship forever. But when Tony confesses that he’s got feelings for Thor, Steve’s surprised to find that instead of being relieved, he’s actually kind of… disappointed? For the prompt fill: accidental love confession and jealous Steve Rogers

“In Love with a Strict Machine” | 12,809 words | M | 31 Oct

After an honourable discharge from the War, Steve is relocated to a suburban neighbourhood where he stands out as the only Monster around. Soon after, T0ny, a Cyborg he knew briefly during the War, moves in next door. Steve’s long carried a hidden flame for the man, and decides to take their paths reconnecting as a sign to finally make a move. (A.K.A. the Halloween fic where Steve is Frankenstein’s monster, Tony is a cyborg, and they are pathologically drawn to each other.)

NOVEMBER

“Got So Much Honey, the Bees Envy Me” | 1,891 words | G | 4 Nov

Tony takes a hit in a battle, and comes out of his surgery a little confused. Thankfully, his husband, Steve, is there to talk him through it.

“Just About Starving Tonight” | 3,080 words | M | 14 Nov

Tony is just trying to get through an evening of courting and dancing when Steve, the new Alpha in town, approaches him for a dance. Tony tries to turn him down, thinking the Alpha’s mistaken him for an Omega, but is taken aback when Steve assures him that Tony’s exactly who we wants to dance with. (A.K.A. a non-traditional A/B/O meet-cute.)

“The More Things Seem to Change” | 2,123 words | T | 16 Nov

The prince comes to their base in the twilight hours of the night, asking to talk to Steve. Bucky already knows where this is going to lead. (A.K.A. Medieval-cyberpunk fusion AU where Tony is a prince, Steve is a gang leader, and they used to date.) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Historical”

“The More They Stay the Same” | 1,088 words | G | 21 Nov

Bucky was meant to take Tony back to the station twenty-five minutes back. (A.K.A. Medieval-cyberpunk fusion AU where Tony is a prince, Steve is a gang leader, and they’re dating.)

“Hyperballad” | 2,339 words | T | 29 Nov

Steve’s going through something. Tony tries to talk to him about it. (A.K.A. Established relationship, Depressed!Steve Rogers, Recovering Alcoholic!Tony Stark, and a decent amount of emotional hurt/comfort)

DECEMBER

"I'm Jealous of Your Neck (It Gets to Hold Your Head)" | 5,789 words | E | 6 Dec

Steve's going through a rut fever. His vampire roommate, Tony, is very worried about him. (A.K.A. "oh my God they were roommates" ft. werewolf!Steve and vampire!Tony.) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: "KINK: Multiple Orgasms"

+ one more fic from the 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange. Will reblog with the addition once reveals go public.

#my fics #my writing #fics masterpost #stevetony fics #stevetony #ok to reblog!

26 notes · View notes

iridecsense · 3 years ago

Text

f*ck toy! - m.

ART CRED © gaaramam

⤷ summary: “Look at you. You’re nothing. Nothing but a mindless little fuck toy.”

୭̥⋆* word count: 5.9k ୭̥⋆* pairing: pro hero!hitoshi shinsou | fem!vigilante!reader ୭̥⋆* genre: smut ୭̥⋆* rating: 18+ ୭̥⋆* warnings: mentions/depictions of blood, physical and sexual violence ୭̥⋆* kinks: maledom, fellatio, degradation, dubcon, brat taming, bondage, spanking + choking, quirk use ୭̥⋆* author’s note: Have a little misogyny... as a treat. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! This is a PRO HERO AU, meaning all characters are aged up to 18+ consenting adults—more specifically all characters are in their 20s. Hope you enjoy! :)

“We can’t keep meeting like this, love.”

Autumn nights were cold. Once the sun retreated below the horizon and the moon rose with the stars, the chill of the night blew with the winds that shuddered petals from cherry blossom trees and tickled the bare necks of strolling pedestrians.

On the rooftops of buildings, that same waxing wind moaned lowly, whipping and lapping (h/c) and indigo locks wildly in the air. Up there, the moon was full, the stars were bright, and the smog of the city hung low, allowing the crisp natural spring air to fill their lungs.

“You know why I’m here.”

The city was known for its fluorescent glow. Bright hues of blue, purple, and white shined from buildings and billboards, outlining their sleek silhouettes. Police sirens echoed from below. The unmistakable whir of helicopter propellers hummed in the distance, undoubtedly in search of them.

“You missed me as much as I missed you?”

That smile. God, did he hate that smile; just as much as he hated the person who wore it. To anyone else it may seem charming, flirtatious—pretty, even—but he saw it for what it truly was: a shit-eating grin designed to piss him off.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He took a step closer, shortening their distance.

The sound of heels clicking and scuffing across concrete irritated his ears. He kept his guard up as they circled him, sauntering around in the utmost lackadaisical manner.

“I don’t need to when you flatter me already, Kitty.”

Dressed in a taut latex suit as black as the night sky, was the most infernal woman he’d ever met. Someone so irritating not even Satan himself would reap her soul. He imagined that's the only reason why she managed to live so long.

She stalked him like a lioness stalks her prey. Her glossy (e/c) eyes reflected the light of the city just as much as they reflected the chaos and corruption of it. He knew her for what she was despite the black eye mask used to evade her identity:

A criminal.

She wasn't just any kind of criminal, either. She was the kind he hated the most: the kind who believed they were a hero. That’s why she put on the black catsuit and mask. She kept to the shadows of the night and took justice into her own hands, leaving many villains mere inches from death by the time the police found them. That's why he hunted her. However, tonight was different. The police didn't find a villain beaten bloody and unconscious on the ground. Instead, they found a corpse.

“So, handsome, how do you want to do this?” She hummed. “How about our usual teasing dance? The one where you use those big muscles to wrestle me to the ground just to have me under you. I hit you, you hit me—yada yada yada—we fight until, eventually, we’re both a hot, sweaty, bloody, mess; and you—being the soft kitty-cat that you are—let me go, so we can do it all over again another day.”

He clenched his fist and grit his teeth. “No. Not this time.”

“No?” Her tinted red lips pursed into a childish pout. “Oh, but I do enjoy our usual cat and mouse game. Then again, experimenting is always exciting.”

“This isn’t a game,” he warned, his voice deep and serious.

She laughed when he said it. She leisurely walked to the roof’s ledge, climbing on top of it to promptly lie on her side. Her chuckle reminded him of a hyena. It was twisted and deranged. Hearing it made him sick. She lifted her head to face him, resting it in her hand. “Of course it is,” she said simply.

Anger filled his chest and throat. “You killed a man!”

Rather, she let him die. That’s how she saw it anyway. And so what if she did? It wasn’t like anyone would miss him.

His accusation didn’t phase her one bit. No semblance of remorse graced her features. Nothing but that sickening smile she always gave him.

“I know. That’s part of the fun,” she winked.

That was the moment. That’s when he knew she was truly as insane as he believed her to be, and it infuriated him more than ever before. His blood boiled under his skin. The low rumbling of thunder drawing near piqued their attention. Dark grey clouds slowly began to encroach on the city, flickering white with lighting every so often. The air grew thick and wet as the once clear sky grew dark and murky. Heavy drops of rain started to fall, sprinkling down on them.

“Playtime’s over, (l/n),” He told her. “You’re finished.”

For once, her permanent taunting expression was replaced with genuine surprise. Her crescent smile faltered, but the corner of her lips still curled upwards.

“Are we using each other’s names now?” She asked as she sat upon the ledge. “It’s been a while. Should I call you Shinsou? Hitoshi? Or maybe Hito-chan, like when we were kids! We were so close back then.”

He frowned in disgust. “We were never that close.”

With the skill he learned from his predecessor, the cloth wrapped around his neck and shoulders shot for its target at his will, wrapping tightly around her left wrist. The scarf tightened and pulled her up from the ledge, flinging her back onto the roof. His hand reached for her other arm but he soon found himself staggering backward. She evaded his attack, jumping into the air and kicking him flat on his chest. The end of the scarf wrapped around her wrist fell loose, relinquishing her mobility.

He slid back, grounding himself before lunging for another attack. She blocked his punch with her forearm and dropped to swipe his legs. He fell hard on his back rolling to his side. She hovered over him with her head tilted to the side and her arms crossed.

“You’re not going easy on me, are you, sweetheart? I like it better when you’re rough.”

He snarled, taking the moment to strike. Using his binding cloth, he aimed for the back of her head. The cloth tangled itself in her (h/c) locks and he forcefully yanked her head back. She yelped in pain, reaching around to unravel it from her hair. He jumped to his feet, throwing a punch to her left cheek and a knee to her stomach. She fell on her back with a satisfying thud.

“Give it up, (l/n)!”

Another rumble of the clouds looming over them came louder than before. The once scattering rain fell harder and denser. As he tried to blink the raindrops from his eyes, he was met with a heavy fist punching him across the face. His mask fell to the ground with a heavy clank.

“Fuck!” He cursed aloud, clutching his bloodied nose. A high-pitched cackle pierced his ears.

“Sorry, sweetie! I can't stand having that ugly thing cover your pretty face,” she taunted.

He dove for her again, aiming to kick her in her side. She predicted this, however, and caught his leg in the air, throwing him off balance. He fell to the ground, and she came tumbling after.

When he pried open his eyes he found that the weight on his chest was her smiling form pressing into him. Her lips pursed to mimic a kiss. He grimaced, forcing his head to collide with hers. She called out in pain as he pushed her off. Her sharp nails dug into his shoulder, tearing through his shirt and leaving four long open scratch marks on the expanse of his back and neck. He hissed at the stinging sensation, ripping her hand from his skin.

The two fought dangerously on the roof. The rain soaked their hair and clothes, and washed away any blood that spilled. They executed their dance, just as they did many times before. For every punch he threw, she returned threefold. As the rain persisted and the thunder was accompanied by lighting, their dance grew sloppier. Their feet slid from under them, and their movements were slowed by the weight of their soaked clothes. It was probably the only reason he started to get the upper hand.

She swiped at him with a claw-like hand that he expertly dodged. Taking the opening that was created by her misstep, he tackled her to the ground. They fell with him pinning her on her back. He hung over her, their faces inches apart. Their chests heaved with each labored breath they took. Her wide-eyed stare locked onto his, and the insidious smile stretching across her lips taunted him.

“Oh, baby, you know it turns me on when you’re on top.” She purred, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek, marking him with her lipstick.

He yelled in disgust, slamming her back into the ground. She masked her pain with an airy laugh and struggled to escape from his grasp, but he had her stuck. She howled in a fit of frustration, her Cheshire smile replaced by a fierce scowl.

“He fucking deserved it! Villains like him don't deserve to live!” She shouted over the pouring rain.

“That isn’t for you to decide!”

“You know I’m right! What I did was justified. Deep down, you agree.”

“It’s not about if I agree,” he said. “You broke the law. I have to take you in.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she sneered. “You should know that more than anyone.”

Her eyes bore into his, its usual mischievous sparkle glinted.

“Why don't you use your quirk on me?”

There was silence; a slight pause—a moment’s hesitation where Hitoshi found himself unable to reply with a snarky remark or dismissive insult. Like a shark could smell a drop of blood in the water, she could sense his dithering strength and grinned.

“How often does the chief punish you for letting me go?” She pestered when he did not answer. “I wonder what kind of bullshit excuses you make. Tell me some, I bet they’re hilarious.”

“Shut up.” Was all he could muster to say. It was more of a warning than a command.

“I can tell him why.” She lifted her legs to stroke the sides of his hips. “I’ll tell him you just want a reason to keep touching me. Maybe then he’ll understand. Nobody can get you off like I can—ugh!”

He slammed her into the ground a second time. Her head spun from the contact it made with the slick concrete.

He bore his teeth like a wolf ready to bite. “Do you enjoy pissing me off?”

“Just as much as you like letting me,” she slurred.

“I don’t let you do anything.”

She chuckled. “Bullshit.”

“And I’m not letting you go.”

“Bullshit. You’re letting me go right now.”

“I’m not!”

“Then why am I still here?” She asked. “Why aren’t I in handcuffs sitting in the back of a police car on my way to prison?”

Hitoshi clenched his jaw.

“You have the power to make me do whatever you want.” Her voice was low, deep, and sensual, teasing him with every syllable. Her hands trailed down his chest, stopping at his waist to grip his belt. “You could make me turn myself in right now, but you aren't. You won’t.”

Now it was his turn to lean in. “Who says I won’t?”

“You won’t,” she said surely.

“I might.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

A flash of lightning illuminated their features, their faces mirroring a similar unknown expression. A roaring clap of thunder followed, but their eyes never left each other. They were locked in an intense, silent battle, and neither of them were yielding. Her eyes flickered to his lips, her tongue darting out to lick her own.

She leaned up, so close that their cheeks brushed against each other as she muttered in his ear, “Face it, Kitty. There are still a few more rounds you want to play with me.”

To her surprise, his strong calloused hand reached for her narrow neck, dangerously applying pressure. His once vibrant violet eyes darkened to a shade of almost-black. He was ominous and menacing.

She had a particular talent for predicting things; it was what made her such an excellent fighter and escape artist. She could read people easier than she could read a book, and Hitoshi was the easiest to read. Only now, she couldn’t predict his movements or thoughts. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And it only made things that much more exciting.

“You want to know why I kept letting you go?” He snarled.

“I’m dying to know,” she grinned.

He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her cold, wet skin, warming her cheeks. Heavy drops of rain fell down his face, dripping onto hers. His grip around her throat tightened, making her gasp for air.

“It’s because I was waiting for a good enough excuse to kill you myself.”

She let out a raspy chuckle. “How Shakespearean of you. Do you really hate me that much, Hitoshi?”

“I do,” he growls. “I hate you—”

“I love you too.”

“—and I hate that shit-eating grin—”

“Others say it’s charming.”

“—and I hate your dirty fucking mouth!”

She glared at him through squinted eyes.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?”

A clap of thunder and his lips were on hers, hungrily exploring her mouth with little to no concern for her pleasure. She matched his energy. The kiss was hot, and electric, like the air around them. Their lips clashed messily, slick with rain and spit. Her soft breaths filled his ears. Her hands on the hem of his pants pulled him close, connecting their hips.

He held her back by her neck. “Don’t,” he warned.

She sighed. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Kitty.”

With a buck of her hips, she changed position, flipping him over on his back. Her legs straddled the sides of his hips, her hands on either side of his head. His hands fell to encase her waist, gripping her soft center. She lessened their distance, their noses brushing against each other. Her hips pressed into his, rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants, drawing out a stifled moan. Their lips locked once more, her tongue darting into his mouth in a feral kiss.

He pushed himself off the ground sitting her on his lap. Her hands tangled in the mess of his iris-colored hair, his lips attacking the sensitive skin of her neck. His wandering hands snaked around her curves, squeezing and groping the soft flesh hidden beneath slick latex. It wasn’t long before he found the zipper that held it all together. Hooking his finger into the ring of the zipper pull, he ripped the piece of metal off, parting the seam and exposing the expanse of her torso to the elements. He took her already hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling it with his tongue. She gasped into the wind, her hips grinding against his aching cock. She copied his actions, her sharp nails clawing off the material of his shirt, cutting him in the process. He hissed in both pain and pleasure, taking an arm under her thighs and standing to his feet. Her legs wrapped around his hips, as he carried her off and pressed her back against the rough brick of the roof entrance.

She tasted sweet on his taste buds. It was an addictive flavor, sweet like dark chocolate: sugary, bitter, and salty all at once. The mixture of rain, saliva, and blood swirled around their tongues. Consumed by an insatiable lust, his lips savagely attacked her skin, traveling the expanse of her lips, neck, collar and breasts.

She gasped when she felt his cold, wet hand slip beneath her waistline directly over her pussy. His middle finger dove between her lips and unveiled her pulsing clit. He drew fast circles over the sensitive bud, contriving a series of breathy moans and sighs from her lips. When his thumb replaced his middle finger on her clit, his middle and ring finger slipped inside her with little resistance. She clenched around his digits. Her legs opened wider for him and he pumped in and out, in and out, in and out with belligerent speed. Her hands tightly gripped the fabric of his shirt as he expertly used his fingers and mouth to overwhelm her senses.

She was putty in his hands. The woman trapped in his arms was completely different from the one he knew. The feline temptress who made his blood boil, who teased him relentlessly like a mouse dangling by its tail for her to eat, now mewled at his every touch. Her heavy-handed fists that held the power of a raging tigress had turned into soft paws and caressed the nape of his neck, tangling themselves in his hair.

“You call me Kitty, but look who’s purring now,” he hummed lowly in her ear. “Now why don’t you get on your knees and open your mouth for me like the good little kitten you are?”

For the first time, she had nothing to say. No witty comeback or flirtatious taunt. Instead, she swallowed a lump in her throat and coyly turned her head to the side avoiding his eyes. Her hips wiggled anxiously, still desperate for attention.

“How pathetic.” He scoffed.

Mortified by her own behavior, her skin grew hot. “Screw you, Hitoshi—!”

“Shut up!”

It was instantaneous. Just as the little mermaid had her voice stolen by the sea witch, she found herself incapable of speech. Her bright (e/c) eyes dulled and glazed over, mimicking the lifelessness of a doll. She felt as though she were descending into a dark abyss, like how Alice fell down the rabbit hole. It was a dizzying experience. A never-ending drop that gave her the sensation of free falling and floating in the air while simultaneously staying in place; still aware of her surroundings, such as her feet planted firmly on the ground and the man in front of her. It was a drunken feeling, but the best kind. The kind that buzzed pleasantly in her head and relaxed her muscles. It spread warmth throughout her body and tingled in just the right places, constantly edging her between pleasure and oblivion. This is what it felt like to be brainwashed by him. This was the feeling of being under his absolute control.

How satisfying it was to see her in such a state. For once he had her wrapped tightly around his finger. His hand reached up to remove her mask, unveiling her pretty face so he could see it clearly in its trance-like state.

“Why do you look so surprised?” He smirked. “You said I can make you do whatever I want.”

At this moment he was so much bigger than her. Even with her distorted vision, she could see him clearly, standing in the moonlight with eyes sharp and pointed at her. His hand held a firm grip around her neck, forcing her to look directly into those wolfish violet eyes.

“I said, ‘get on your knees’,” he ordered.

The disconnect between her body and mind had her obey his command, instantly dropping to her knees in front of him. In her mind she was conscious, but it was like she was a spectator in her own body. Unable to control her movements or make her own decisions, she could only watch herself be subdued by him. Her face leveled with his groin and she could see the undeniable bulge of his cock straining against his pants. What part of her could react on its own did so by rushing blood to her head, warming her cheeks and ears.

Of course this was amusing to him, so he laughed. It wasn’t a laugh produced to provoke her or incite rage or frustration. It was a laugh of genuine amusement and satisfaction. His smile reached from ear to ear, revealing the dimple on his left cheek.

“Where’s the shit-talking slut I know so well, huh?” He quipped. “What? You finally get what you asked for and you have nothing to say? Suddenly you’re a sweet innocent girl who blushes at the sight of my dick?”

He began unbuckling the heavy utility belt secured around his waist. “No, no, no. You don’t get to be shy now, kitten. You don’t get the benefit of being fucked like a sweet girl. I’m going to fuck you like the dirty slut you are.”

His cock sprang from the opening of his pants, red and erect. He took himself in his hand and gave his dick a few languid pumps as he looked down at her through half-lidded eyes. His length erect was more than seven inches, but a little less than eight. He had the appropriate girth to match his impressive size, making what she believed to be the most impressive dick she’d ever seen.

“Open your mouth.” Another order from the puppet-meister and the strings that held her mouth shut pulled them open at his command. He moaned in his throat at the sight of her beneath him, her mouth open wide and ready. His dick jumped, anxious to get inside and feel the warmth of her soft wet tongue.

He sighed deeply from his nose as he guided his length into her mouth. Her lips wrapped around him, encasing him in warm flesh and saliva. He pushed into her mouth until he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, holding it there. Her body reacted naturally, gagging and clenching around him, but she could not move.

“Oh, yeah,” he shivered. “You like that, don’t you slut?”

He pulled from her mouth, giving her the chance to breathe. She coughed and heaved, a string of saliva connected her mouth to his cock, shining from the building lights. Hitoshi took half a step closer, propping his right hand against the brick wall behind her. Using his left hand he guided his dick back into her mouth. Again he thrust to the back of her throat.

His left hand held the back of her head in place, fisting a lock of her hair. Mindlessly he thrust his hips, plunging his cock deep into her throat. Using the hand on the wall to steady himself he excitedly fucked her face, the sounds of her choking and gasping fueled his hateful lust.

On the outside she was complicit, but internally she was in flames. She could barely breathe with his cock stuck in her throat, relentlessly thrusting in and out without any thought for her respiration. Her mind was in a haze and that intoxicated feeling of being brainwashed only further stimulated her senses. The feeling of him in her mouth, the smell of his cock and the taste of his precum on her tongue overwhelmed her in the most delicious way. Despite her actions being against her free will, her body and mind willfully submitted.

She grew wetter with each thrust and each gravelly moan that came from his chest. She could feel her face growing hotter and hotter, and her clit throbbed, begging to be touched. It tortured her that she couldn’t. It frustrated her that she couldn’t touch him and fuck him the way she wanted. She wanted to take his length in her hand and bob her head up and down his pulsing cock. She wanted to swirl her tongue around the tip and graze her teeth against the veins. She’d draw out more grunts and moans from him—real moans that would slip from his lips and not get caught in his throat. She knew he only did it to make it seem like he wasn’t enjoying it as much as he was. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

But the feeling of her mouth was everything he had ever dreamed of. His wildest fantasies couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing, and he fantasized about it often enough to make the comparison. But she didn’t have to know that. He’d rather kill her than let her find out about the many nights he lied in bed beating his dick to the idea of her; about how he dreamt many dreams of taking her like this, with his cock in her mouth, watching tears well up in her doey (e/c) eyes and drool drip down her chin.

“Dammit!” He released the grip he had on her head and slammed his fist against the brick wall. His spastic thrusts carried him to his premature release. He rode it out until he was sure he unloaded every drop of cum down her throat. When he pulled from her mouth he was still half-hard. On the ground, she felt the fog in her head lift. In his orgasm he broke his focus, releasing her from his quirk. She fell to her hands and knees, prepared to spit out the mixture of saliva and semen held in her mouth.

Realizing this, Hitoshi quickly squatted down to face her. With one hand he held the sides of her face, uncomfortably squeezing her cheeks together.

“Swallow it,” he ordered. “Fucking swallow it.”

Once again, her eyes dulled to the pale imitation of vibrant (e/c). He watched closely as her throat bobbed automatically, swallowing his cum without a second’s hesitation. He let out an airy chuckle. “Good girl.”

Standing to his feet, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off to the center of the roof. The rain still poured and the cool water provided a pleasant contrast to their hot skin. It was there where Hitoshi took the cloth from around his neck. It was a mystery how the restricting fabric worked. It was almost like magic the way he manipulated the alloy material. It took him but a single whip of the cloth to completely bind her. The scarf-like strip of fabric coiled around her chest and arms, pulling them tightly behind her back. What expanse of the scarf that wasn’t bound around her was firmly grasped in his hand.

“Lie on the ground with your ass up.”

Her body moved for her, dropping to her knees and falling face down onto the wet cement. She couldn’t see the glint in his eyes when her ass perked up for him. He came behind her, falling to his knees and taking her hips in his hands. He easily ripped the tough latex covering her bare cunt using only his hands and his brute strength. She felt him massage the swell of her asscheeks, spreading them open to see the evidence of her arousal. If any more blood rushed to her face she was sure it’d explode. It seemed he found his own sick pleasure in objectifying her in the most obscene and mortifying ways.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, admiring the sight of her.

He pulled her hips back into him. She could feel his cock grinding against her, rubbing between her folds. She anticipated his every move, waiting for the moment he would plunge inside her. He loved to tease her. He knew what she wanted. She was already so ready for him. She practically drenched his cock with her slick. He slapped his length against her ass and drew slow circles around her entrance with his tip. He’d slip the head in and out, giving her a taste just to torture her, just to make her squirm.

Thrusting into her was the most gratifying moment he’d ever experienced. It was like finally scratching an itch you couldn't reach, like taking a gulp of frisk water after trekking through the desert. No—it felt more like he was burying his dick in the wettest, warmest, tightest, cunt to ever exist.

His hips snapped into her fast and hard, the way he knew she’d like. He held her hips to hold her steady. His eyes locked on his cock disappearing inside her, marveling at how she sucked him back in. The feeling he gave her was unlike any other. It was surreal, being fucked while brainwashed. He was all around her, inside her—inside her head, inside her body—filling her up with all of him all at once.

She was delirious, absolutely high off his dick and how it stretched her out just right. It was like floating. Everything was heightened ten times as if her body was hyper-aware of his hands gripping her waist, his hips slapping against her, and how he hit every angle perfectly.

His grunts filled her ears. “Is this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you fucking wanted?” His hand roughly collided with her right asscheek, so hard the sound echoed off the ground and the walls.

He pounded into her shamelessly, falling victim to the immense pleasure circumventing his logic and reasoning. Any rational thought he had in his mind, any virtues he had instilled, all of them evaporated the moment his lips smashed into hers. All the years of hatred and resentment, the marinated pent-up aggression and sexual tension, all of it led to this. There was no going back, not when he had his cock deep inside her. Not when he was giving her the best fuck of her life.

Taking the cloth wrapped around his wrist he pulled her up so only her knees stayed glued to the ground. She hovered with her back still flat and linear to the ground as the momentum of his thrusts wracked her body, propelling her forwards and back again and again. The restraints pulling back her arms and tightening around her breasts and waist hurt, but the pleasure greatly outweighed the pain.

She could see her faint reflection in the thin layer of water covering the ground in this position. She watched him pump into her essentially zombified form, limp and stuck in a hypnotic daze. Hitoshi saw it too, catching her eye in the mirrored image. Leaning down so his chest pressed against her back, he wrapped his arm tightly around her chest, took her face into his hand, and forced her to watch. He rested his chin against her shoulder and his lips brushed against her ear.

“Look at you,” he mused between heavy breaths. “You’re nothing. Nothing but a mindless little fuck toy.”

He ground against her, his hands massaging her breasts and the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He nipped, sucked, and kissed down her neck, back, and shoulders, biting down on the soft flesh hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth. He made sure to feel every part of her body, running his hands over her soft flesh and feminine curves. The more and more he indulged himself in taking advantage of her, feeding his perversions and desires as he pounded harder and faster into her dripping pussy, the harder it was to keep her under his command. It was all becoming too much. He could feel her slipping away.

“Hi..to..s-shiii.” His name escaped her lips accompanied by drawn-out groans. His large hand engulfed her throat with a threatening amount of strength. What other sounds that did slip out were raspy and strangled.

“Shut up,” He muttered through gritted teeth. “Don’t say my name. Don’t fucking say my name.”

She’d screw it up if she did. He couldn’t handle hearing his name moaned from her mouth. If she did it again he wouldn’t be able to control himself, he’d cum right then and there. He wasn't ready to do that yet. He wanted to drag this out as long as he could. He wanted to make it last.

“Oh, fuck!”

He hastily pulled away from her, flipping her on her back. The knotted cloth wrapped around her loosened and slipped off her skin and he unwound it from her body and his hand. He hovered over her with his hands on either side of her head. Pushing between her legs, he buried himself inside her once more, rutting against her to a merciless rhythm. Her chest bounced with each violent thrust. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer. He consumed her lips, diving his tongue into her mouth and devouring her dissolute moans. Retreating for air, he pulled away and watched her eyelids close as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, chasing the feeling of her pending orgasm. She gasped at the sudden feeling of his talented fingers circling around her clit. Her back arched from the ground and her hips desperately pushed against him like a bitch in heat.

“Look at me.” His voice was domineering and airy. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”

She did as she was told, not because of some supernatural power, but because she wanted to. Her face was molded into a feverish, fucked-out expression. He took in every detail, from her half-lidded eyes blackened by messy eyeliner to the upturned furrow of her brows, and the slight part of her lipstick-smeared lips.

“F-fuck, (y/n).” He called out her name, something he hadn’t said in a long time. Something he didn’t think he would ever call her again. She called his name too, her soft pants increasing as the muscles in her stomach tensed. Her nails dug into his back, and hot beaded droplets of blood rose from the cuts.

God, did he want this. He wanted this so bad it drove him crazy. All he ever wanted was the chance to fuck that smile—that fucking bitchy smile off her pretty little face. To fuck her senseless, to fuck her stupid. Fucking fuck her brains out until she was a stuttering, whimpering mess like she was right now, making a mess all over his dick. He was so close. So, so fucking close.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

His last thrusts were the most intense and frenzied of them all, drilling her until he felt her clench around him, until her breath hitched in her throat and her legs quivered beneath him. He came hard, shivering as he released inside her, filling her with his hot cum.

He held his cock inside her, occasionally jerking his hips in response to the aftershock of sensitivity. The rain had subsided, resulting in a light drizzle. The sounds of their labored breaths overpowered the trickle of raindrops and the distant whirring of cars. Eventually, once their breathing returned to normal, he pulled out, standing to his feet to tuck himself back into his pants. She watched him dress from the floor, silently admiring the work she’d done, such as the scratches that decorated his toned back, and the shirt she turned into tattered cloth. He still put it on, as well as the binding cloth and the long-since-discarded mask he’d collected from the ground. For whatever reason he ignored her, keeping his back turned and his head down.

“If I see you again, I’ll fucking kill you,” he said, before walking towards the ledge.

(y/n) cocked her head to the side. “Is that so?”

He stopped in his tracks with his back still turned. She watched him closely, expecting some form of resistance—whether it be another threat or an offensive gesture—but he did nothing. He simply took another step onto the ledge and jumped off, disappearing without another word. (y/n) scoffed, rolling on her back to stare up at the void night sky. The corner of her lips curled.

“Promises, promises.”

424 notes · View notes

out-of-this-dimension · 3 years ago

Text

Hypothetically Rewriting Assault’s Story + Some General Assault Opinions

There’s a game my husband and I like to play when we watch a movie, play a game, or read a book that has a story that we don’t really enjoy or we enjoy certain parts of but not others. We look at things we’d keep and things we’d change and we build a story from there-- sort of like an AU but we don’t really go into the writing part, we just stick to theorizing and mapping a general story.

I decided to play that game with Star Fox. Not because I think Star Fox has a bad story but because sometimes I think the stories could have been handled better. Note: for the rewrite game, I only really look at story, even for video games, I don’t really look at gameplay mechanics, but I do understand those have a lot to do with story potential so I do take it in as a factor... I just don’t bother to “rewrite” the mechanics, if that makes any sense at all. Some of my list today will include boss encounters but I wouldn’t necessarily say those are mechanic-related... more like “event-related”.

I’ve mused a bit in the past about rewriting Adventures and Command and I do have plans to do a mock up of an Adventures remake eventually. However, today I was thinking about how I would go about handling an Assault re-write in particular. Much like Command and Adventures, I don’t have any beef with the core story but I do think there’s a few things that could’ve been better about Assault’s storyline-- like they had good ideas rolling but they didn’t quite refine them.

Under the cut because SUPER long.

My basic feelings on Assault are pretty positive. I think the game is generally just fun and I like that it feels like the natural progression from SF64. I liked getting to see planets we haven’t seen since the N64 era in better graphics and I liked seeing Star Wolf return. I also just thought the aparoids were neat enemies.

Generally speaking, though, when it comes to Assault, I think it suffers from the thing it tries to push the most-- the story. I think a lot of people get caught up in thinking the story is better than it is because it’s the first game since SF64 that really follows the same Star Fox vibe without retelling the Lylat Wars. Don’t get me wrong, the overall plot is great but the execution and pacing are... wonky. Certain characterizations also take a hit in some regards but no one really talks about that when Command exists. That’s something we’ll talk about later on with this post.

That being said, Assault really does have a lot good going for it. An absolute banger of a soundtrack, some great dialogue, a neat story synopsis, the introduction of cool characters like Panther and Beltino (who existed but was always off-screen), and just good levels.

So, here’s what I would add, I suppose, if I were to somehow have the ability to rewrite Assault. Originally I had this in paragraph form, but I’ve made it into more of a list under topic segments with main points bolded for your viewing pleasure. Some of these points might be considered nitpicky and while I do understand that yes, this is a game about space animals, I do hold the developers in high enough regard to make a game with a continuity that makes sense.

The Story Changes

- Reduce Pigma’s storyline in Assault. This is the biggest one for me because a bulk of the plotline feels like a giant chase to just get at Pigma and it feels like it derails from the actual plot with the aparoids. We only go to Sargasso because of Pigma. We only go to Fichina and then back to Meteo again, because of Pigma. That’s 3 levels in a 10 level game devoted to just tracking down Pigma and chasing him. While it makes the build up to fighting Pigma kind of nice, I personally feel like the plot could be reduced to 2 levels. If Assault overall was a longer game, I could see them making it 3 levels. Overall, though, in its current state, I feel like the side plot overstays its welcome and the aparoids promptly get shoved to the side in favor of “Oh no, we gotta get to Pigma!” And I get the main motive here is to show how the aparoids affect people and because of the build up, it does a good job at showing how utterly terrifying the aparoids are. But it’s still too long given the length of Assault’s story. The only alternative to this is make Assault longer, which... honestly, it should be.

- Revise the scene with Tricky. I’m obviously not well-versed in dinosaur biology but I’m pretty sure dinos didn’t grow that fast from what studying I HAVE done. And why is he suddenly king now? Did his parents die? He seems not affected by this at all? Like it’s a funny scene with him, Fox, and Krystal, but it’s odd if you really look at it. Give us, as players, more context because I’m still not even sure what happened to make Tricky suddenly the leader and... big. As a note, you’re gonna hear me gripe a lot about the Sauria level in this post.

- The Star Wolf + Peppy sacrifice is a low effort way to raise tension/stakes and then cop out. Oldest trick in the book, imo, is to act like you’re going to kill off important characters only for them to be alive miraculously. And let’s face it, as an audience we all know they aren’t going to kill those characters because it’s Nintendo and those characters are too beloved. I would’ve forgiven them for only doing this with Peppy or Star Wolf, but when you tack them both together and throw in the fact they make it seem like you’re going to have to kill General Pepper too... yeah, it’s just a bit much of the same trope over and over again. I wanted to put a note in here about how I’m fine with the Great Fox being “sacrificed” but overall, it needed to return to the series because of it’s icon status, but I think that’s more of a gripe at Command instead of Assault.

- Keep Pigma alive. This will conflict with a point I have later on about the game consistently having characters cheat death for easy drama points but with Pigma, I would’ve kept him fully alive... but maybe with some physical damage from the aparoids. I understand he’s semi-alive in Command and tbh I don’t know where I stand on that. Why keep Pigma alive, you might ask? I feel like his character has a lot more potential than being “just the greedy guy”. Like he’s got good potential future villain material for future games and... if I’m honest? I just don’t see Nintendo wanting to keep Pigma dead so why even bother killing him off? They couldn’t even commit to him being dead in Command anyways so it seems very moot.

- Bring Bill and Katt back. Assault is acts a bit like a big reunion of all of our SF64 favorites but our two favorite side characters are suspiciously missing. Wouldn’t Bill be out on the front lines fighting against Andrew in the beginning? Or maybe back in Katina? And wouldn’t Katt inevitably show up in the midst of the invasion, maybe to pointedly check in on Falco?

- Bring Andrew back for the final fight. I think Andrew being defeated early into the game is fine overall but I think bringing him back in for a reunion final fight against the aparoids would serve to really solidify that it’s really everyone vs the invading aparoid force. It would show that not only is Star Wolf willing to put aside their differences but so is basically everyone in the Lylat System in the name of survival. Imagine the Venomians and Cornerians working together against an aparoid fleet, giving Star Fox and Star Wolf time to attack the queen? I just think it’d be neat and it’d open up the potential for some fun banter mid-mission. I do understand that quite a few people consider Andrew canonically dead after Assault but personally, I feel that his defeat left his fate questionable (I’m a staunch believer that unless there’s a body, they’re probably alive, especially for Nintendo games because, again, they never like to kill people off) so him returning in Command never really bothered me.

- In general, reconsider some of the character portrayals. Unfortunately, when a series has a different studio for each game, character portrayals will inevitably have inconsistencies. While I give Namco a lot of credit for putting in oodles and oodles of detail into the game (particularly the levels), I think they failed in their portrayal of Fox, at the least, and Wolf is a considerable offender as well. While it’s obvious that Fox in Adventures was effectively modeled off of Sabre even in terms of personality, Rareware was at least able to justify Fox’s newfound jaded attitude with the passing of many years and a distinct lack of steady income, resulting in the team being in disarray. Assault’s Fox is a stark contrast to his cynical interpretation with seemingly no explanation other than maybe “Oh, I have more money and a gf, maybe I should behave myself”. As if the sudden change in personality wasn’t random, Fox also just seems very blah, like a blank slate stereotypical shooter game protagonist dude with little to no emotion. Wolf is less obvious but gets slated into a mentor-like role midway through the game and ends up in a respectful rivalry with Fox... which there’s nothing inherently wrong with that except for it happening abruptly (and, I mean, Peppy is right there). But I take less issue with this and more of an issue with the fact that there’s an entire level establishing that Wolf now runs a crime den with effectively what seems to be an army and no one bats an eye at this. He doesn’t even call on them to help with the aparoids. Did they all die when the aparoids attacked Meteo? Are they safe somewhere else? Where do they go? How was Sargasso able to operate without the CDF being on their doorstep with warrants for arrests?

- Don’t kill all the dinosaurs. A bit of a dramatic statement but the ending screen that showed all the damage to Sauria really bothered me. While I understand that the dinosaurs had less of a chance against the aparoids than a more technology-focused society like Corneria, I was a bit disappointed that the decision was made to just state that a lot of tribes had been wiped out. I know this could easily be retconned in a future game and I feel like it should be. “But why, Amalia? Why are you disappointed by that?” 1) It’s a little too grimdark for my tastes. 2) The fact it all happened off-screen felt very hand-wavy. And 3) It brings into question the entire point of Adventures. Why did we bother to save this planet if it was going to be reduced to rubble and ash 1 year later? Where were the Krazoa in all of this? Why did they not make an appearance at all to try to stop the invasion with their alleged powers? It just raises too many weird questions and I feel like Namco didn’t think it through too much. Which I mean, sure. Family, kiddo game. I’m not asking for bigbrain plot and lore but I’m squinting at this bit because it does feel very contrary to the lore from the previous game.

- Make the aparoids more relevant. As nice as it is to have a random bad guy from another galaxy, I feel like there was more that could be done with the aparoids in terms of their origins. Tiny things, mind you, not huge revelations. Off the top of my head, they could have been tied into Krystal’s backstory to help alleviate some of the complaints that she was too random to be added to the series’ main cast. Alternatively, they could have been a product of Andross or even a weapon prototype from Corneria that fled the lab (I actually thought the game was leaning in that direction for a bit then just Nothing Happened). I get that the vagueness of their origins leaves room for people to speculate and speculation is nice but... when you leave too many things unknown, it starts to feel less like giving fans room to interpret and more like just doing random things for the sake of it. I think a lore tidbit here or there would work wonders for the aparoids instead of leaving them as just borg/zerg clones.

Level-Based Changes

- Add either Aparoid RedEye or Aparoid General Scales as a boss to Sauria. Given that this level mysteriously lacks a boss, which is just weird compared to the other levels, I think that they had the opportunity to add something cool to go along with the cinematic feel they were going for with Assault. Assault’s cutscenes do play in a movie-like fashion and it’s clear they’re trying to make the game as epic as possible. It’s a shame they had so much fodder for a great boss here but they failed to go through with it. Alternatively: Add a Krazoa-Aparoid fusion. Why? Because Star Fox is about cool epic sci-fi and that would be cool epic sci-fi incarnate.

- Add a boss to the Aparoid Homeworld Level, aka the penultimate level. Another one I felt was personally weird that there was no “final defense system” to challenge the team. Would be cool to do an aerial battle over the aparoid planet with some giant flying aparoid.

- Be kinder to Sauria. The level had some good homages but overall was incredibly small and incredibly short. It felt like a bone tossed to Adventures fans but was not entirely true to the setting built by Rareware. I’m... not even sure where the Sauria level is supposed to take place? I presume it’s Walled City but it doesn’t really have the same color scheme or aesthetic? Also where is my revised Adventures music? Why do all the other levels get it but Sauria doesn’t?

- Put some of those funky items from the multiplayer into the main campaign. I don’t know why some of these things, items especially, were omitted unless it was purely due to time constraints. I remember having missile launchers and jetpacks in the multiplayer and was a bit sad that they were not in the main campaign. Retuning the levels and adding those in would be a nice breath of fresh air for the more tedious on-foot missions.

- More levels. Self-explanatory. Still sad we didn’t get the Zoness or Titania levels in the single-player mode.

I think all of the above changes would improve the game, though I recognize all of this is being said 16 years later after lots of time to contemplate Assault’s weaker points. I’m not entirely certain how long Star Fox Assault took to develop but given that there’s obviously quite a bit scrapped from the game (an entire arcade mode was scrapped as well), I’m going to assume that the studio felt pressured to shove the game out the door and into the hands of customers. It’s a shame, really, because I think a little bit longer in the oven would have done a lot of good. Still, the product we got was good in its own right and a game that many people look back on fondly. I haven’t gotten to replay it in years but I hope to quite soon.

You might wonder why I bothered typing this all out and I guess my point was this-- Assault was great but it wasn’t perfect, and while a lot of other games fall under a crushing amount of scrutiny, Assault seems to dodge it. And don’t get me wrong-- I adore Assault. But given that not many takes exist out there about rewriting it, I decided to give it a shot. For variety’s sake.

I do want to a mock up of a revised Assault story, which I think I will get to work on after completing this while all my ideas are still fresh in mind. So stay tuned for that sometime in the near future. I will also be doing my Adventures mock up at some point but probably not for a little bit as I do wanna focus some of my free time on actual fic-writing.

Anyways, if you stuck around this long, thank you for reading! Have any changes you’d like to see to Assault if you could time machine your way back to the early 2000s? Feel free to post in the comments, I’d love to read your ideas!

#star fox assault #starfox assault #super long #queue'd

32 notes · View notes

angelguk · 5 years ago

Text

→ sorry (not sorry) — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 8.1k

genre: smut + umm everyone is pining on each other + jeongguk has a secret crush on oc hehe + college!au + fluff (kind of) + enemies to let’s fuck cause i like you lmaoo

warnings: oral sex (f receiving) / mutual orgasms / face sitting / fingering / jeongguk has a big dick / plot is there somewhere / this is continuation of the drabble where jeongguk broke oc’s vibrator (go read it in my masterlist if you would like but this can be read separately!) / protected sex / use of the pet name baby / a little bit of biting hehe

soundtracks: crush, cigarettes after sex + manic pixie dream, chloe lilac

Jeongguk knows there’s something wrong the moment you step through the door. There’s a palpable tension in the air as you strut past the living room, where he’s sitting lax on the couch bundled up in the soft grey blankets Seokjin had bought for the apartment. You don’t spare him a glance but Jeongguk’s eyes move without his permission, gaze greedily trailing after your figure. The dress clinging to your frame shimmers in the soft glow of the apartment lights, a deep claret that looks stunning against your skin tone. His throat goes dry the moment your strides bring the high slit cut along the side into existence. The sudden span of skin makes his mind go blank, tongue heavy in his mouth as he stares at you. The greeting he was about to mutter stays lost in his throat, a strange throbbing in the back of his head matching the rhythm of your heels clacking sharply against the tiles.

It wasn’t like you were going to say anything back to him, he reasons, the thud of your door slamming resounding through the quiet building. Seokjin wasn’t home for once, leaving the two of you to wallow in your mutual relationship of abhorrence - except it wasn’t a mutual relationship at all. While Jeongguk knew you hated him, he never disliked you. Yes, sometimes you irked him with your obstinacy and sharp words but you were also hilarious and unabashedly spoke your mind; traits he greatly admired. He enjoyed being your roommate for the most part. The jabs you threw at him were always handed back with a mellow grin and a muffled laugh on his side but that was shattered by the incident. Which Jeongguk has been painfully trying to forget.

He’ll admit, he was wrong for that. Digging through other people’s stuff was out of character for him but Seokjin had sworn he’d seen you using a massaging machine when Jeongguk had voiced his extreme back pain to him one afternoon. He’d waited patiently for you to come home so that he could ask to borrow it, but it was growing late and his back was aching so he decided to borrow it first and ask later. He hadn’t intended on breaking the thing. It had just given up after a few hard presses into the thick knots in his shoulders. Jeongguk had neatly tucked it back exactly where he found it, completely unaware that he had ruined the mechanics of it. He didn’t even think you would notice, but of course, you did - it was your vibrator after all.

He cringes even at that minute realization, tugging the blankets tighter around him as his eyes stare blankly at the show flashing on the television screen. There’s an essay demanding to be written on his laptop but every fibre in his being is refusing to do it, the tension in the household making his stress one thousand times worse. He didn’t even like coming home nowadays - too many awkward silences and hate-filled glares in this confining space. But he’d abused his right to sleep on Jimin’s couch and had been promptly kicked out by his best friend due to that. Being in the apartment still sucked. Massively. Because you’ve barely spoken to him. It’s been two weeks since the incident and not a peep had come out of your mouth. Seokjin had reached a point where he’d began demanding that dinner had to be eaten together, once he’d picked up on the rage radiating off you whenever you were around Jeongguk. But that just ended in you shovelling your food down your throat and leaving the table early while Seokjin just stared at the both of you and Jeongguk just stared at his food. It was beginning to become inconvenient for everyone around you - especially your joint group of friends.

But he didn’t know how to approach you anymore, the apology Namjoon and Hoseok made him rehearse sticking to the back of his throat whenever you were around. You made everything seem cold, with your clamped lips and harsh eyes. If he’s being honest with himself, he misses the small smiles he would rise out of you whenever the two of you argued. And the sound of your giggles colouring the room. And having you look at him with a gaze that didn’t scream hatred. In general, he just misses you.

But it’s not like you’re going to let him in. He must have crossed a line, broken something in the precarious relationship you had. And it makes him mad at himself.

“Jeongguk?” It’s quiet, breaking through the drone of the television and hitting his ears hard. For a split-second he thinks he’s imagined it, the sound of his name leaving your lips. But then you say it again, firmer this time. A demand for attention. “Jeongguk?”

“Huh, yeah?” He’s scrambling off the seat, nearly tumbling onto the floor due to the tight bundle he’d wrapped himself in. “Yes?”

“Could you come here for a minute?” The door is cracked open, your face peeking through the tiny opening. Even from this distance, he can tell that your mascara is smudged, dark shadows streaking down your cheeks. He moves without a compliant, tossing the blanket onto the couch as he shuffles towards your room. There’s a tight feeling in his chest, and suddenly the television seems nonexistent, a silence in his head that’s punctuated by the thumping of his heart.

You stay quiet, falling back into the room with your back turned to him. Jeongguk follows, hesitant as he steps inside your space. A stark contrast to his brazen behaviour the last time he was in here, shamelessly digging through your stuff. The heels you were wearing sit idle in the corner of your room, little black strappy things that make his skin heat up. But then his gaze travels to you, standing expectant by your bed, and suddenly the air seems like it’s stifling, closing in on him with every passing second.

The glimpse he got of your walking past when you’d stormed into the apartment is nothing compared to this. The dress is fitted, shimmery fabric flitting perfectly along every curve and line of your body. It dips dangerously in the front, soft fabric draping over your chest. He keeps his eyes on your face though, afraid to stray further down because there’s a situation rapidly forming in his pants. But the frustrated look you’re giving him puts an end to that rather quickly, his apprehension settling firmly on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He says because you’re not saying anything, eyes distant as your stare at the wall behind him. You shake your head the moment he speaks, the little gold chain dangling around your neck swaying with the movement.

“Sorry, I’m a little bit out of it. Could you help me unzip my dress?”

Jeongguk blanches. It’s a natural response, the blood in his system already roaring. He doesn’t know what to say, mouth agape, like a fish as you look at him, gaze unwavering.

“Y-yeah, sure,” He splutters, feet moving closer. But his palms are clammy and when you turn around, displaying the zip that runs along the back of your dress, his breath hitches. Everything in him hopes you didn’t hear that.

“Thank you,” You mumble, somewhat embarrassed by your request. You have been valiantly ignoring Jeongguk for the past few weeks now, so asking him for this favour was completely out of place. But you desperately need to get out of this dress, already irritated by the audacity and rudeness of the stupid boy you’d agreed to go out on a date with. He’d said so many infuriating things that you can’t even begin to think about them or your blood pressure spikes. And with the absence of your preferred toy due to Jeongguk’s annoying curiosity, you’d also lost one of your favourite forms of stress relief that you enjoyed. The sexual frustration coupled with the horrible date you’ve just experienced had you on edge and the last thing you wanted was this dress clinging to your skin. You don’t even know why you wore it - that guy didn’t deserve to see you in it anyway.

“Were you on a date?” You nearly jump, Jeongguk’s silk voice slipping around your frame. There’s a warm hand on your back, tugging at the zip keeping this dress fastened to your body. The sudden closeness makes your skin prickle, a tingle in your gut that you chose to ignore.

“Um - yeah.” It’s the only thing you can muster up right now, brain zoning in on the graze of Jeongguk’s hand along your back as he pulls the zipper down. It’s quick, the dress falling away as he does so. You keep the front up with a tight hold against your chest, the thumping of your heart under your palm making your head swim. It doesn’t help that his hand doesn’t move despite the zipper being down, warm palm pressed against the small of your back.

“With who?” It’s not accusatory or demanding, genuine curiosity in his tone, his breath a phantom against your back.

“No one.” You refuse to even think about the guy. Mentioning his name would rekindle the anger you felt throughout the date.

“Was he a dick?” Jeongguk asks, voice gentle. He finally moves away, the absence of the warmth of his palm nearly making you step back into him, searching for that strange comfort.

“Yes,” You retort instead, turning around to find his eyes on you, something swimming in the brown of his eyes. You can’t decipher what he’s thinking.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” He mumbles, rocking on the soles of his feet. “That sucks.”

“It does,” You reply, feeling oddly exposed even though the front of your dress is pressed against your chest. Jeongguk nods, and you suddenly begin to wonder why he’s still in the room. When you open your mouth to tell him to leave, Jeongguk beats you to it, babbling out something that has your body freezing over.

“Were you going to sleep with him?” He asks, eyes glued on the floor. It rushes out his mouth, the words bleeding into each other in his hastiness.

“How is that any of your business?” You snap back, wanting him away from you immediately. The irritation that you feel against Jeongguk that you’d allowed to subside for a moment comes violently rushing back, sending your blood pounding in your head. A small part of you still lingers on the warm print of his palm against your skin, though, reluctant to give up the emotions you felt when he was touching you just yet.

“It’s just - you’re wearing that - that matching stuff,” He mumbles. Stuff? He’s talking like he’s twelve.

“You mean my lingerie?” Your cheeks burn when you realise that you’d accidentally given Jeongguk a front-row seat to view your undergarments when you’d asked him to unzip you.

“Yeah.”

“Well...I wasn’t opposed to sleeping with him. And then he turned out to be a dick so I left.” You hope he can dedict the lack of interest to keep this conversation going in your voice. He doesn’t.

“Oh. Bummer.”

“Yep.” You’re starting to get annoyed at him. “You can leave now.”

That does sting, a sharp little dagger settling in his heart, but Jeongguk nods away, hating how hot his face is. He doesn’t look at you as he walks away, hands balled up in a tight fist and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. It’s only at the doorway that he halts, slipper shuffling against the ground. When he glances back, mouth falling open, you can’t help but note the rouge tinge of his ears peeking out from his messy brown curly man. Or the strange determination swimming in his eyes.

“Sorry about your vibrator,” Jeongguk murmurs, tone timider than he intended. He clears his throat, gaze faltering from yours. “I really didn’t mean to break it. I can get you a new one soon. I’ve saved up enough - I think. Just tell me the make and I’ll sort out the rest,”

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, a funny feeling blooming within your chest. But your mood is still too sore to soften up to his apology just yet. There’s still a lot about Jeongguk that irks you, but this was nice of him. His genuineness draws a tiny smile onto your face.

“It’s fine, Jeongguk. You didn’t need to do that. I’ve already ordered a new one. I was just really mad at you for snooping through my stuff-”

“I’m sorry about that too,” He interrupts, slipping back into your room. He must have forgotten that you’re still half-naked. You clutch the front of your dress tightly, ignoring the odd warmth the ebbs from your core. “It was totally out of line and I understand why you were mad. I still want to get you something, though. Food, maybe? Or another toy?” The way his cheeks bloom rose makes your heart slam into your chest. “Ignore me. I’m just blabbering at this point.”

You huff out a laugh, despite being slightly irritated. “Did offer me something better.” There’s a long beat of silence that follows that. You intended it to be a joke, yet the words feel like something else entirely. It came out without a second thought, but you immediately want to snatch back the words, the silence that descends upon you suffocating. You suddenly can’t look at Jeongguk and he’s blatantly not staring at you. When you finally gained the courage to tear your eyes away from the pedicure on your feet (which was a waste really), Jeongguk’s mouth is already parting, a series of words drifting from his mouth that make your heart stop in your chest.

“My offer..still stands if you want it.” There’s instant regret on his face. He doesn’t know why he said that. Perhaps it’s the way you look in that dress that has his head feeling foggy. Or maybe it's how warm your body felt underneath his fingertips. Or maybe it's the tiny (read massive) crush that he’s been harbouring over you for the past five months turning the gears in his head. But he sees the incredulity plastered across your face he wants the press rewind button on his life so bad. So so bad.

He chokes out a laugh swiftly. “I’m joking, don’t worry.” And then he spins on his heel and wonders how much it would cost to move to Cuba right now. Like right now. He’ll book the plane ticket the second he’s out of your room. But you stop him from leaving with a simple sentence that has his whole body lighting up in a blazing fire that threatens to consume him.

“Are you really joking, Jeongguk?”

His smile is sheepish when he slowly turns back around. “...No?” A lot is running through his head and he stumbles over the words that fall out of his mouth. “If you want to, of course. I mean - your vibrator is broken and I - I don’t know what other toys you have but I presume you’re still sexually frustrated and I don’t mind if you use me - not like that but like I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to - I don’t know how to put this but like I said before a replacement. I could be like a replacement, if you want to I would be down. I wouldn’t mind it if-”

“Jeongguk, relax. I get it.” You’re so calm and it’s making him even more anxious. He despises the loud thumping of his heart that roars in his head. But he’s so caught up in his mind, overanalyzing his actions, that he misses the blush spreading across your skin.

“I don’t need a dick replacement,” You say. He deflates. Which he didn’t expect to happen but he literally feels how his chest sinks into itself. “I have a dildo.”

“Okay.” He forces it out, ready to leave because this situation is the most embarrassing thing he’s ever thrown himself into. “That’s fine. That’s okay.”

“No wait - I don’t really enjoy using it...So if you want...I wouldn’t be opposed to your offer.” You can feel your blood rushing into your heart, a frenetic thumping inside of your chest that hurts. There’s a warmth in your core that makes you agree to it. It doesn’t help that Jeongguk is naturally attractive; easy grin and contagious laugh that you’d gradually learnt to love during your time with him. And that’s not including the way he’s built. You’re not blind. You live with him for heaven’s sake. Jeongguk also had an affinity for walking around shirtless at ridiculous times. There were moments where you had to hole yourself up in your room because you just couldn’t stand to see his golden bare skin on displayed, firm toned muscles and broad shoulders luring you. There was a reason you avoided Jeongguk during your ovulation. Not like he noticed that anyway.

Even now, with his worn plaid pyjama pants clinging around his tapered waist and the loose sheer white shirt billowing from his body, he still looks good. Your face is warm, palms clammy at the prospect of touching him. Then he cocks his head, soft curls tumbling into his face and the corner of his petal pink lip turning upward. You abhor how your burst, like a star, the heat that erupts through you dangerous.

“You sure?” He ruffles his head, hesitant, but he’s moving towards you with quick steps.

“Yes.” You hope it came out firm, not shaky like it sounded in your throat. He’s incredibly close now, and you can’t help but clutch the front of your dress with taut fingers, like you don’t want him to take it off. He notes that with a quick flicker downward of his eyes, halting right in front of you.

“Are you really sure?” There’s apprehension clinging to his question.

“Yes,” You reiterate, fingers itching to slip underneath his chest. His chest is so wide. Why is his chest so wide? “Are we going to do this or not?”

“Yeah, um, yes. We’re doing this.” Jeongguk can’t believe that he’s doing this. That you’re allowing him to do this. He also doesn’t know where to begin, brain blanking with the torrent of fantasies that pour from his mind. But then his gaze slips down to your bright crimson covered lips and he naturally moves in without a second thought. He can start there right. Just a kiss, a simple kiss. If it’s so simple why does his brain feel like it’s going to explode?

You can see the thought settle in his head the moment his brown eyes settle on you. You’re so close that you can see the multitude of tones swimming in his gaze; speckles of honey and gold that hold you captive in this silence, your heart drumming fast in your chest. His tongue sneaks out to swipe at his bottom lip, pink and wet. You can’t deny the shiver that travels across your skin, descending deep inside your gut, kindling a flame that threatens to consume you. When he closes in on you, you freeze, wine coated tongue heavy in your mouth. You forget how to breathe for a moment, frazzled by the sudden enclosure. But then you feel his breath brush against you and your brain snaps back into the moment.

“Don’t kiss me.” It’s harsher than it sounded in your head. He’s wounded, evident by the long look he gives you as he pulls away, the hands that were moulding around your waist drawing back too.

“Okay.” It’s somewhat timid, uncharacteristic for Jeongguk. He seems suddenly unsure like he’s trekking on undiscovered ground and he’s afraid to act on the whims swimming in his head in case he provokes you and ends up getting hurt. You want to tell him that you don’t bite, but you're too on edge tonight to coddle him. But he still gives you that kicked puppy look, doe eyes staring at you bewildered. “No kissing.”

“No kissing,” You affirm, clutching onto your dress rather desperately. “Let’s not do more than we have to.”

“But are you even wet?” Jeongguk questions, standing rather awkwardly. You pretend not to notice the tent in his sweatpants. But he also has a point. Despite the tension in the air, you’re rather dry between your legs. He must know he’s right because there’s a glimmer of a smirk tugging at his pink lips, eyes suddenly glinting deviously. “I knew it. You’re not even wet.”

“Why would I be?” You retort, skin hot from the attention of his gaze. “You’ve barely even touched me.”

“Because you won’t even let me,” He retorts. His hands suddenly settling on your waist, drawing you closer to him. Maybe you let out a little noise that you refuse to acknowledge. Jeongguk eats it up though, firm hands trailing gently along the smooth fabric of your dress. “If you could just,” He tugs at it, rather roughly and something spikes in your belly. “Take this off, we could start.”

“I don’t recall my vibrator being able to talk and make demands,” You bite back, grasp firm on the flimsy material that’s preventing you from being butt naked in front of your least favourite roommate. Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow, his hands resting along your back, the heat of his palm against the silver of exposed skin there making your eyes flutter.

“You want me to be quiet?” The immediate answer is no. You despised it when your partners were silent. Noises were a confirmation that you were doing things right - making them feel the way you were feeling. It was also an ego boost that you desired, something that made you feel completely in control and capable for once. But you’re not sure that you want to share that intimacy with Jeongguk of all people. He was the guy who ate your leftovers without asking, left dirty socks all over the apartment and never did he’s dishes for some reason. He was also the reason you were in this predicament in the first place; because he was the one who’d dug through your stuff and broken your vibrator. You’re both infuriated and turned on, mind struggling to form a response because the pads of his fingers are grazing your skin, gently coaxing you further into his arms, a tremor echoing between your legs. You feel stupid, for being so compliant to his ministrations. But you can’t help it, already a slither of slick pooling inside your underwear from the look he’s given you coupled with the steady graze of his fingers on your back.

“I asked you a question.” There’s a sudden burst of confidence in his voice that you detect right away, most likely a consequence of the way you’re swaying in his arms. “This is about you, you know. What do you want?” That takes you off guard. You look at Jeongguk again, taking in the soft chestnut curls framing his face, brown eyes warm. There’s a funny feeling wrapping itself around your heart. You want to shake it off but it’s got claws and they dig deep until you’re left dazed.

“My neck,” You can give him that. The intimacy of having his lips on yours is not something you can handle right now. “You can kiss my neck.”

Jeongguk sighs, the soft sound floating between you as he pulls you closer. He doesn’t bother to hide the erection in his pants, his cock pressing a hard line against your stomach as he leans in, face dipping into the hollow of your neck. You jolt the moment his mouth meets your scorching skin, pushing yourself further into his sure arms, thighs instinctively pressing against each other. “Of course you’re sensitive here,” He muffles, wet tongue firm along your skin. He licks a slow stripe, coaxing another jolt from your pliant body. Your palms are splayed across his chest, the firm ropes of muscle and the erratic beating of his heart beneath your fingertips making your legs weak. And then he murmurs, tone desperate, “Take this thing off.” He moves so fast that you’re left stunned, the straps of your dress slipping down your side in his hast to get you naked. The fabric hits the floor with a soft thud, piling around your feet. He helps you out of it, gently directed you towards your bed.

The mattress sinks underneath your weight, but you barely have time to think about it because Jeongguk is caving you in, mouth back on your neck where he prints himself there. There’s a heat that surrounds your tangled bodies, sweltering in a way that makes everything heady. You cling onto him naturally, searching for a way to roll your hips into his as his mouth finds new ways to make you sigh underneath him, a steady wetness blossoming in between your legs. But Jeongguk pins you down, drawing away swiftly, his hands on your hips.

Why the hell is his shirt on? It should be off. Right now.

You move to yank the fabric over his head, but he halts with a soft shake of his head, pink tongue sneaking out to swipe at his bottom lip. When he sighs, gaze slowly trailing down your exposed body, something in your gut sharply tightens. His fingertips begin to wonder, pausing at the band of your black underwear. He toys with it, not seeing how your gaze is focused on the very obvious tent he’s sporting.

“You’re hard.” You can’t help but say it. The fabric of his pyjama pants is so flimsy and you can see the outline of his dick without any obstruction. You have a sneaky suspicion that he’s currently going commando.

He laughs, a low sound that fills your chest. “Yeah, I am. You’re really fucking hot.” He pulls the band of your underwear. It stings when it snaps back into your skin - but you like it. “But this is not about me,” Jeongguk continues, gaze flickering upward. His eyes lock into yours and your head spins with how intense the brown in his eyes is. His steady stare glazed over with want that you can feel. His fingers drift back to your underwear, tugging at the fabric gingerly. “What do you want?” He asks again.

“I’d like it if you fucked me,” You reply, fighting through nervousness that grips at your heart. Jeongguk blinks at that. And then he smiles, a grin that’s bright and makes your heart beat wildly.

“You’re not wet enough,” Jeongguk returns, a playfulness in his tone that’s very foreign to you. You like it though, more than you should if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t expect the firm press of his fingers against your clothed cunt - nor the rush of arousal that gushes out from you. He grins again, grinding his fingertips right where you need him most. There’s a warmth creeping across your face because he’s unabashed with how he touches you, something you never expected from Jeongguk.

What were you ever expecting from Jeongguk?

“See,” He says, cutting through that weird revelation in your head. “You’re not wet enough.” His trails his fingertips upwards, gingerly flicking at your clit with a smug smile on his face.

You scowl, ignoring the way your heart thumps when he does that. He’s wrong but you refuse to tell him that you’re leaking through your underwear, there would be a damp stain if the fabric wasn’t that dark. And you can feel your sling slipping onto your thighs, walls already clenching. You refuse to give him that satisfaction though. He’d barely touched you and you were dripping. His ego would never deflate.

“Make me wet enough then,” You retort instead, a blaze building in your core when he fixes you with a heated gaze.

“Make you?” He hums, fingers suddenly slipping underneath the band of your underwear. Your breath hitches at the press of his skin against your own. “Okay. Take this off. Would you like it if I ate you out?”

His eyes hold a hope that you can’t help but give into with a shy nod. You raise your hips so he can help you shimmy out of your underwear, the air cool against your bare body. But that’s quickly replaced with a warmth that sinks into your skin when Jeongguk buries his head between your thighs, his body shuffling further down the bed, his hands swinging your legs over his shoulder. You don’t expect the first lick against your folds. Your body reacts before your mind can even register the press of his tongue against you, thighs trembling around his head. Jeongguk feeds off of that, sinking his mouth on you quickly. It’s not tentative or shy, Jeongguk’s assured in his actions, his tongue pressing flat against your cunt with no hesitation. He licks you open with a soft sigh drifting from the back of his throat, deft tongue slipping into your dripping hole when your hands settle on his head. You yank at the curls sprouting from his head, hips squirming underneath the steady assault of his tongue. From the way his tongue sinks deeper into you, you can tell that he likes it, another groan against your cunt when you claw your nails into his scalp.

“J-Jeongguk!” He doesn’t shift away from the desperate grinding of your hips, a determination in the way his mouth moves against you, lips latching around your clit firmly. He swirls his tongue around it, quick little flicks that follow leaving you breathless. You can feel your wetness spreading around his mouth, it’s obscene, how much he coaxes out from you. The heat in your core spikes when he draws away and your eyes take him in.

His hair is ruined, dark curls tousled form your desperate grabs and tugs. And his mouth glistens with your arousal, pink tongue sneaking out to press a kitten lick along your dripping folds. You chase after it, embarrassed at the knowing look Jeongguk gives you. He doesn’t comment on your neediness though, instead planting a brief kiss against your cunt, leaving you wanting for even more when he draws away. Your mouth is open, demanding for him to slip himself between your lips. But Jeongguk beats you to it.

“Wanna sit on my face?” You don’t miss the nervousness in his eyes. Which is truly confusing to you. This boy just had his tongue deep inside of you and he’s still apprehensive enough to stare at you with those wide doe eyes of his.

“Yeah, sure why not.” You reply, trying to keep your tone casual but you positively buzz when that pretty smile of his spreads across his lips. You both move rather quickly, despite not being able to touch each other. Jeongguk slips between your legs quickly, curls splayed out underneath him like a halo. When he smiles up as you rest your hands against the headboard of your bed, you think, for a split second, that he just might be an angel. Then his hands are resting on your hips and he’s gently drawing you downwards, tongue already slipping out to meet you. You can’t help but tremor when his mouth returns to your cunt, tongue already settling against that bundle of nerves that has you heady. Your trembling is making Jeongguk lose his mind, spurring the urge in his gut that wants to see you unravel on his tongue. It doesn’t help that you sound like that, tiny little whimpers and gasps that makes his tongue drive deeper into your core. There’s an undeniable wet spot forming on his pants, cock twitching every time you grind into his, a mumbled whisper of his name floating from your lips. He thinks he could die happy like this, the taste of you on his tongue and the sound of his name on your lips. He’s so unbelievably hard right now. Harder than he’s ever been in his life, an aching in his stomach to just flip you over and fuck you senseless. But he wants to see you cum on his tongue first, taste you release and then fuck another one out of you. Even the thought of that has another burst of precum leaking from his dick. He’s going to die like this. And he’s not going to mind that at all.

“Am I not wet enough?” You whine, walls fluttering with the need to be filled. Jeongguk looks at you with those stupid glittering eyes of his and you try not to melt. But that doesn’t work because he plants another kiss against your cunt. When he laughs against your thigh, a gentle sound that has your stomach twisting, your chest blooms.

“No, not yet.” He wants to see you cum on his mouth first. Scratch that - needs to see you cum. The heaviness in his balls demands for it.

There’s intent when his tongue returns to your core, movements fast and nimble tongue gathering your slick only to fuck it back into you with purpose. It consumes you, the fire that spreads from your belly with every lick of his tongue against your folds. Your stomach is already caving dangerously, the lap of Jeongguk’s tongue against you frying your brain. You can feel it already, in the tenseness of your thighs. And when he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, you snap, a broken moan tumbling from your lips. Jeongguk doesn’t let up, swallowing your release even when you try and shift away, the hands hold you down firmly.

When he finally lets you break away, your bones are tingling, a strange sensation in your knees when you roll off his face, thighs still tremoring. He watches you collapse onto the mattress with a satisfied smile, tongue licking your arousal off his lips like he’s still chasing after your taste. You observe that with heavy eyes, a warmth ebbing through your system and your nerves still buzzing as your high washes over you. The image is embedded in your memory though. You don’t know how you’re going to look at him again without thinking about his mouth coated in your wetness and a happy little smile gracing his rose tinged lips.

You’re trying very hard not to think about the consequences of this at all.

Jeongguk doesn’t see the contemplative look in your eyes, hand already rising to fumble with the clasp of your bra. He undoes it rather quickly, something that has your eyebrow-raising. He notes that with a shy smile.

“I’ve had practise,” He shyly mumbles, propping himself onto his elbows. “You okay?” When he sees the way your gaze shifts.

Practise, of course he’s had practise. This is just a one-time thing. Jeongguk is desirable enough to have girls at his beck and call. With that lopsided grin and fluffy hair, you shouldn’t be surprised. This wasn’t a permanent arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t yours. He was just a replacement. Nothing more. Yet, you can’t help the strange lurch in your heart when he says that. You shrug it off though, hating the questioning gaze he’s giving you.

“Huh? No, I’m okay,” You're pushing yourself upright a moment later, bra strap slipping down your shoulder. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on that little movement. But you’re aching to see him bare too, fingers itching to feel something solid underneath to distract yourself from the strange hollowness that sits heavy on your chest. “Why am I the only one getting naked?” You comment, quirking an eyebrow at him. Jeongguk complies without a complaint, shifting on his knees so that he put his hands over his head, grab the back of his shirt and swiftly yank it over his head in one fluid moment. Your breath is knocked from your chest in the next one, the display of his toned golden skin reigniting the fire in your gut that he’d briefly doused out. There’s so much skin you yearn to touch, the muscles in his arms flexing as he tugs his shirt off his body. He pants follow next, shucked off fast, leaving his cock exposed to the stifling air in your room. You were right, he was going commando. And you’re glad about it. His dick is incredibly pretty. There’s no other word for it, thick enough that you’ll feel him stretch you out when he fucks you, and length shimmering with his precum. You want to taste him, see his face twist with pleasure when you swallow around him

You move without thinking, mouth already parting to sink around him. But Jeongguk cups for chin before you can have him against your tongue, a gentle pause in your desires.

“I’ll cum if you do that,” He whines, and the twitch his dick gives when you send him a pleading look tells you he’s being honest. There’s already a heat pooling between your legs once again.

“You’re going to have to finger me then,” You comment, sneaking another glance at him. “You’re kind of big.”

He scoffs at that, guiding your back against the mattress once more. “Kind of? Baby, please don’t lie to yourself.” You freeze at the pet name, acutely aware of the way your walls clench, slick gushing out of you. He reads that wrong though, halting with concern colouring his gaze. “Can I call you that?” Jeongguk softly asks. “Is baby okay?” He won’t tell you but he really, really wants to call you baby. You hum a noise of acknowledgement before you can consider the implications of that, legs already drifting apart so he can find his place there. You feel the relief ebb off of him as he settles between your legs. “Baby,” He says it again and you flutter. Literally. A lightness in your system that you’ve never felt before. There’s a finger circling your entrance, teasing you open with gentle swirls. You try and buck down on it, but Jeongguk isn’t having that, the glint in his eyes devious.

“Not yet, baby.” And then he’s reach for your neglected bra. It’s tossed away, a flash of black that you barely register because Jeongguk is latching his mouth onto your nipples, tongue flicking until it pebbles in his mouth. When his teeth softly sink into the sensitive skin there, your body sparks, nerves a livewire for his pleasure. You feel one of his fingers sink in a moment later, a sting around your entrance that has the coil in your stomach tight. He groans against your chest, mouth dropping from your chest as he descends back between your legs. He peppers kisses against your skin throughout his downward journey before his breath is grazing on the apex of your cunt. One finger has turned into two, steadily fucking you open even as he shifts down your body. Jeongguk can’t help but watch how you suck his fingers in, walls desperately clinging onto him. You’re very warm around him, cunt tight and wet, and his cock is already leaking at the prospect of being deep inside of you. There’s no way he’s going to last - he knows it.

“Kind of want to eat you out again,” Jeongguk says. He hopes you’ll say yes, maybe it’ll help him calm himself down before he fucks you. But when you walls flutter around his fingers and his cock jumps dangerously, he realises there’s no use in that.

“No,” You groan, grinding down on his fingers. “I’ll die,” You reason. Which is true. You’ve never had someone fuck you open with their tongue like Jeongguk before.

He muffles a laugh. “And that’s a bad thing because?” But you can’t answer. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth because Jeongguk is pressing in a third finger. The stretch is new but welcomed, the curl of his fingers inside of you maddening.

“I said because?” Jeongguk asks again, snapping his fingers into you hard. You sneak a glance down to find him watching you carefully, reading the shuddering of your chest well.

“I h-hate you,” You retort, squirming underneath the fast pump on his fingers into your cunt. When he laughs you want to die. Not because it’s mean or because you truly hate him. You don’t, you can’t. You want to die because you like the sound of it - it’s warm and soft and wraps itself around you and you want to hear it again and again. You know it’s bad now. There’s no coming back from this. And yet you can’t bring yourself to stop it.

When Jeongguk draws away his fingers, you chase after them, mortified at yourself but too far deep to care that his point. He just smiles at you, a tender thing that has you covering your face because this is too much and your heart is beating too fast and you don’t know how you’re ever going to look at him in the eyes again. But you pull your hands away hastily because you can’t bear to not look at him either. Your brain is committing everything to memory against your wishes, noting how your stomach twists when Jeongguk uses your arousal to pump himself twice, cock shimmering with your wetness.

“Uh? Do you have condoms?” He asks a beat later, hand still gripping his length. You’re too busy thinking about how much you want him on your tongue to answer until he taps your hip gingerly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I do. In the drawer - that one.”

He rises from the bed to get it, returning with the foil in hands which he rips open and slides along his length quickly. It settles in you then, core buzzing, that Jeongguk is going to fuck you. Jeon Jeongguk. The roommate that you hate. The roommate that broke your fucking vibrator. The roommate you’re currently not even meant to be talking to. He’s going to fuck you. And the worst thing is that you want him too.

“You okay?” He’s hovering over your body, the back of your thighs in his warm firm grip, an eyebrow quirked at your sudden silence. You nod because you’re too afraid to speak, but then you swallow your desire and force your mouth open.

“Yeah, I just -” He leans into your space, spreading you open underneath him. Your heart floats. “I just,” You try again, “Want you.” That’s fine. That doesn’t give away the weird emotion that is consuming you whole. But then Jeongguk looks at you hard, like he’s able to peel away the layers behind that to see the intent in your statement. It makes your heartbeat spike dangerously in your chest, blood filling your heart. But then his eyes flutter shut, his nose bumping into yours, a soft sigh wandering from his lips.

“Needy baby,” There’s a smile in his tone but you can’t even spend a moment analyzing it because the tip of Jeongguk’s dick is pressing against you. He sinks into you, a slow drag that you feel throughout your whole body, brain shutting down when his balls settle against the curve of your ass. He burrows his face into the hollow of your neck before you can even lean in for a kiss that you yearn for, still respecting the boundary you’d placed at the start of it. You regret giving that rule instantly, aching to have Jeongguk’s mouth on yours. But for now, you're satisfied with how full you feel, his large cock stretching you out in the best way possible. It’s a sting you revel in, walls fluttering along his length. You give him one shallow buck, a small gasp falling from your parted lips when he sinks in even deeper, cock curve right into a spot that has your nerves tingling. Jeongguk doesn’t move though, impossible still and his thighs tense against your own. You're about to ask why when he nips your neck sharply. You jolt, a small squeak emitting from your mouth.

“Don’t move,” Jeongguk murmurs into your sweat coated skin. He doesn’t mean it in a bad way, but he can tell from the tightness in his balls that he fucks into right away he’s going to cum. There’s a curve in his stomach that makes him nervous, brain overwhelmed by how good you feel around him. It’s insane, the way your pussy flutters around his length, tight and wet and warm around him. He’s trying very, very hard not to blow his load right now.

It takes him a moment, before he forces down his orgasm, hips slowly drawing away to slam down back into you, a lewd squelch echoing in the room when you meet. You can’t help but choke out his name, hands drifting along his back when he finds a rhythm that has you both groaning into the air, your hips rising to meet his deep sure thrusts.

Jeongguk fucks you like he’s trying to make a permanent home for himself between your legs, alternating between sharp snaps that leave you breathless, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you vision spin and deep grinds that press against your clit with intent. It’s a lot to take in, and your brain is overwhelmed, blissed out from the pleasure of Jeongguk pounding you into the bed. You don’t even realise how loud you’re being, until Jeongguk pulls his head from your neck, eyes locked on your lips with a want you feel deep inside of your gut. There’s a bead of sweat forming along his hairline, long curls loose from the exertion of his body rocking into yours. He looks glorious like this, cock deep inside your cunt, your bodies naturally moulding into each other. You say it before you’re too afraid too.

“Kiss me.” Jeongguk’s hips falter at that, stuttering against you hard.

“What?”

“Kiss me,” You say it again, firmer this time.

His mouth meets yours a heartbeat, tongue slipping against yours like he’s starving. You moan into it, pliant because his hips are still rocking into you. Harder this time, like he needs you to reach your high before he does. He might get what he wants. There’s a heat raging through you, the drag of his cock intoxicating. It doesn’t help that he still tastes of you, tongue mapping your open with desperation. You can’t help but cling onto him, body sparking when he nips at your bottom lip. His back is sturdy underneath your hands, fingertips tracing the curves of the toned muscles in his back as he drills you into the sheets, the steady drag of his cock making you feel delirious. Your brain is mush, every nerve in you focused on where you meet, the slight rocking of the bed underneath you a detail that sits in the backburner of your mind. You can’t even string together a sentence, mumbling his name when he finally parts from your mouth, eyes dark. It hits you then, a hard fast thing that has you squirming underneath him wilding. Jeongguk fucks you through, hips unforgiving and your legs wrapped around his torso.

“That’s it baby, cum on my cock, there you go. Such a good girl. Oh, fuck-” He burrows his head into your neck a moment later, the falter in his rhythm evidence enough.

When you finally drop your legs from his waist, they barely exist, your chest rising hard as you try to catch your breath. Jeongguk’s pants colour your skin, a sweet little intimate thing that has your heart swelling. And then he rolls off, instinctively sneaking another kiss before he forces himself onto his knees to dispose of the condom.

When he returns, you’re cold. You reach for him immediately, tugging him back into the bed where you latch onto each other, mouths exploring once again because your brain is still fuzzy and kissing Jeongguk seems like the best idea in the world. When he makes a move to get up again, your clutch onto him like he’s your only lifeline.

“Stay,” You whisper. You can’t let Jeongguk go. You really can’t. You’ll die if he leaves this bed. He nods his head, curls bouncing like he doesn’t want to go either. You feel nice in his arms, you taste even better against his tongue.

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

outtakes:

group chat: flat lord jin and the two little piggies

flat lord jin (11:34 pm)

hey guys i left my key could u open the door for me?

flat lord jin (11:39 pm)

are any of you home?

flat lord jin (11:43 pm)

jeongguk?

y/n?

where the fuck are you guys?

flat lord jin (11:55 pm)

lmaoooo never mind

group chat: da boys 😎

idiot #1 (12:09 am)

boys i have an announcement to make

y/n and jk finally fucked

i am proud of them

NO MORE SEXUAL TENSION I AM FREE YERRRR

yoongi hyung (12:35 am)

how the fuck do you know that information?

idiot #1 (12:39 am)

they didn’t close the door

saw them cuddling cause i went to look for y/n

it was kinda gross lol

idiot #2 (12:44 am)

pics or it didn’t happen

teeny tiny hyung (12:54 am)

omg taehyung shut up

yoongi hyung (01:34 am)

y’all are weird

idiot #2 (01:54 am)

yoongi...don’t make me pull screenshots from the other group chat

yoongi hyung (01:57 am)

i dare u 2

idiot #1 (02:12 am)

WE ARE DIGRESSING!!!!

the point is that they fucked

WHICH IS GOOD FOR ME

i was suffocating in this house

omg but now i have to hear them fuck all the time

f’s in the chat fellas

yoongi hyung (02:24 am)

hobi hyung (02:25 am)

joonie hyung (02:27 am)

jeongguk please tell me you used protection

jaykay (10:12 am)

first of all

FUCK ALL OF YOU

seokjin u weirdo i hate you

YOU’RE ON WASHING DISH DUTY FOR THIS

also

yes of course the fuck i did do i look stupid

but like...

idk but she’s not talking to me now? idk what i did she just kinda told to to go when we woke up? what do i do?

idiot #1 (11:18 am)

ARE U JOKING

THIS IS NOT A KDRAMA PLEASE STOP BEING STUPID AND JUST DATE

PLEASE

FOR ME

DO IT FOR YOUR HYUNG

JK PLEASE

teeny tiny hyung (11:21 am)

translation: may be ask her out? are you just fwbs now or? what does she like? food? flowers? have you ever even had a conversation with her that wasn’t a screaming match?

jaykay (11:32 am)

not really....

idk man i just... I DONT KNOW

i like her

i think i do

do i?

namjoon hyung (11:39 am)

you need to talk to her

that’s the only advice we can really give you

just talk to her

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #smutcentralnet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts x reader

3K notes · View notes

katierosefun · 4 years ago

Text

back on my w: two worlds bullshit but also make it star wars and obi-wan and anakin angst, because in typical caroline fashion, i’ve wondered about like. au? au. like, lowkey a canon divergence but also not a canon divergence au, i don’t really know how to describe it, but it’s really fucking meta--

anyways. thoughts under the cut, because i don’t want to burden anyone with ‘caroline what are you talking about why don’t you just write/don’t you have things to do�� shhhHHHHhh at this point i’m just a miserable pile of half-written docs and ideas but let me word-vomit for a second (but also please do indulge me in this because i need to scream and i lowkey am into this idea but also i have too many things to write but also)

okay, so i’ve already rambled a bit about w: two worlds, but basically, the actual kdrama’s premise is that a young woman accidentally is dragged into the world of the comic/webtoon her father writes--essentially, this young woman saves the comic protagonist’s life, and she keeps accidentally slipping into the world, and it’s just. it’s so fucking meta and so fucking good and so fucking smart, and even though i think this is the kind of story that you.....can’t really mimic just because of how fucking smart and unique it is, it still got me thinking about star wars but make it “w” and uh--

disclaimer: i don’t think i’d ever actually write this because it would be so niche and also so incredibly convoluted, idk man i’m just kinda going off here:

- so, the events of rots do happen. (note how i said that this is still slight canon-divergence au but also not? yeah, it’s about to get super complicated)

- and of course, at this point, the galaxy like....no one except like obi-wan and yoda and bail actually know that darth vader is anakin, right? i think that’s what the situation is?

- anyways, i think that’s where the story picks up: obi-wan’s in the middle-of-nowhere tatooine, and no one knows where/what the fuck happened to anakin skywalker, but we know that anakin skywalker was a pretty well-respected/public figure (because war propagandaaaaa)

- anyways, thinking about obi-wan kenobi coming into town one day and realizing that people are shadily passing around a data pad to look at hey, this story just updated!!! this story just updated, and obi-wan realizes that there’s a rebelling artist somewhere out in the galaxy making comics about a young man who just so happens to Look Like and Act Like and also is named Anakin Skywalker, except he’s not a jedi, he’s just a regular guy making an honest living in the galaxy (and also on the hunt to avenge his friends’ and his family’s mysterious deaths)

- i know, really fucking meta at this point

- things are harmless enough: obi-wan tries to ignore this comic’s existence (if anything, he’s a little insulted by it because how dare you use his face and his name and turn it into...whatever this is), but like.

- the thing is, grief is a funny thing, and sometimes you start to look for your person everywhere.

- so obi-wan winds up reading along. he reads, and sometimes he thinks that things are a little too eerie--like, apparently, obi-wan is one of the people who was mysteriously killed / anakin’s mom was mysteriously killed / the dialogue is way too fucking real--

- anyways, the comic updates one day: obi-wan sees that the author has somehow decided to basically almost kill off anakin--bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, and obi-wan just watches and it’s painful because this isn’t actually anakin, this is just a comic character--

- and that’s when obi-wan gets pulled in.

- obi-wan kenobi--our obi-wan kenobi--staring at this anakin skywalker-but-not-really-anakin-skywalker, who is bleeding out at his feet--

- obi-wan saves anakin’s life because what else is he gonna do, it doesn’t matter if this guy is a comic book character or not--he’s still going to save this person who has his best friend’s face

- obi-wan gets transported back into his world. he looks down at the comic to find a drawing of himself saving the comic-anakin and promptly freaks tf out because that just happened why did that happen how the fuck did that happen

- anyways, lots of other things happen. obi-wan now sometimes gets randomly pulled into this comic, and the comic-anakin skywalker is freaking out a little too because he’s like “you look exactly like my best friend, only my best friend was murdered”. and our obi-wan’s just like “yeah. i know the feeling--”

- meanwhile, somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, imagine darth vader/anakin walking past a bunch of stormtroopers/former clone troopers and discovering this comic (lol this is kinda funny but also kinda not, because vader’s going to be like “find this artist and kill them”)

- but who is the artist? who is the author? do we know? (we do not. at least, not right away.)

- but anyways, back to obi-wan and comic-anakin: holy shit, okay, it seems like i’m getting a little invested now oh no, but anyways, in the comic, obi-wan still meets others: he meets a comic-padme (who is Not Married to comic anakin but there’s obviously some flirting there), and he meets a comic-ahsoka and a comic-rex, and it’s utterly painful for obi-wan because. because in this world. in this world, things are kind of okay.

- comic-anakin still doesn’t know where obi-wan’s come from though--comic-anakin doesn’t know that he’s just a comic character. (which makes for Bad Realizations later.)

- uh now there are other details i want to work out and an Actual Storyline in the process here in this what started as a joke to now what is turning into a brainstorm, but like--

- the actual plot? idk probably something to do with comic-anakin slowly realizing that he is. actually. just some grieving author’s fantasy / darth vader in real-time tracking down obi-wan and whoever tf is writing this comic / obi-wan constantly being yanked into this world against his will.

- angst? so much angst.

- just thinking about how our obi-wan decides to help comic-anakin.....comic-anakin being like “who are you?” / obi-wan: “me? i’m someone who wants you to have a happy ending. at least in this life. in this world.” / comic-anakin: ???

- kind of a bittersweet ending ngl--

- comic-anakin learns the truth: everything, from the fact that he. he is but someone’s imagination, to the fact that obi-wan comes from the Real World and that the Anakin Skywalker of the Real World turns into a villain/is the real killer of everyone he’s ever loved.

- sad. so sad.

- but ends with comic-anakin giving our obi-wan one last hug. (”i’m sorry that you never got to save your anakin.” / obi-wan trying really, really, really hard not to cry because a part of him doesn’t want to leave this world. this world where everyone’s safe and alive, but he has to go. in the end, he always has to go.)

- as obi-wan leaves, comic-anakin smiles at him. (”i’m someone who’s rooting for you to have a happy ending.”)

- anyways. uh. oh god.

#caroline talks #im sorry this got out of hand #but i have so many thoughts now #what the ever-loving--#i am so sorry to everyone who's just like #'caroline. are you actually going to write these.'#i AM #i WILL #i know i have way too many stories going on right now #i am so sorry #rip summer 2020 caroline at least was more organized #i swear i have a plan

54 notes · View notes

the-gay-prometheus · 3 years ago

Text

Frankenstein AU Segment - “Home Again”

Ok fun fact: I’ve been working on a segment for about two weeks now.

Second fun fact: This is not that segment, but instead something I wrote entirely spur of the moment in the timespan of about 1 hour total.

It’s extremely self indulgent, I’ll be honest. From writing an entire big useless paragraph of Henry horseback riding because I’ve been missing horseback riding and horse related things all day, to the entire actual context of this segment being... well... being what I wish I could have through my transition. If anybody wants to be my Henry and support me unconditionally as I go through my own transition that would be greatly appreciated jhebdjdfhbvjhdvbfv /hj

Anyways- So! This is something totally different than all of the other ones I’ve written so far, because it takes place quite a bit before Victor even goes to Ingolstadt - in fact, it takes place before he even chooses the name Victor! That means you’ll see a character named “Em” (who Henry recognizes as “Emily” at first) - and that character is young Victor!

TW: Mention of blood - absolutely harmless in context, but it is mentioned so it’s worth a tw. Otherwise this is a very generally wholesome segment (other than a small argument between Henry and his dad).

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are greatly appreciated!

“Henry! It’s nearly time for supper!”

“I’ll be right in, father!” From a leisurely walk through the green pastures of his home, Henry urged his red roan mare into one final canter across the field. In the golden light of the slowly setting sun, her mane, tail, and the feathering of her hooves flashed like threads of shimmering copper as Henry’s own vibrant auburn hair flew behind him whipping like fire in the breeze. His hazel eyes set their sights on the stables beyond, and he tapped his heels once more against the mare’s sides, pushing her into a swift gallop. Enthralled by the rush of the wind against his freckled skin, Henry let go of the reins and extended his arms outward. He felt the air pass through his fingers and he imagined instead that they were the feathers of great wings catching the current and soaring through the sky. Though it lasted only a moment, his heart pounded with joy within his chest, still so full of adrenaline even as they approached the gate that led out from the pasture and to the stable. He dropped his hands back to the reins, pulling back gently until his mount slowed her pace back to a walk. Both human and horse panted, the mare chewing idly on her bit as Henry hopped out of the saddle and pulled the reins over her head. He led her into the stable, humming a happy tune to himself with a skip in his step. Grabbing her halter from its hook, he took her into her stall, unbuckling and removing her bridle before replacing it with the halter and tying her to the rope that hung from the wall inside. She stood quietly, each breath sending up gentle plumes of dust that glittered in the light which filtered through the stall window.

After removing her saddle, he began brushing her patchy roaned coat. Ordinarily she was a steady, quiet mare, but Henry noticed that she kept twisting her ears toward the stall which was used for hay storage. Every now and then she would lift her head and flare her nostrils, turning toward the direction her ears were trained upon. “Do you hear something over there, girl?” Henry asked softly, watching her inquisitively. Nearly as soon as he said it, there was a soft thud from that same location, which caused him to jump and the mare to utter a low nicker. Henry pat her neck gently and cautiously stepped out of the stall, staring down the hall toward the source of the sound. “Hello?” There was a rustle within the hay, then another soft thud - followed by a quiet voice that Henry couldn’t make out what it was saying. Instinctively he grabbed a pitchfork that leaned up against the wall, pointing it toward the stall defensively. “Who’s there?” Then came a cough, more rustling of hay, and then - a small, thin figure with short, messy hair stumbled out into the hallway, promptly tripping over their own feet and falling to the ground. Henry gave the person an odd look and turned the pitchfork upright, resting on it like a walking stick. “Can I… help you?” he asked curiously, confused as to why some stranger was hiding in the hay. The stranger struggled to push themself up, and in the dim light Henry’s eyes widened as he beheld the stranger was covered in dirt and… blood? As they lifted their face, Henry suddenly dropped the pitchfork to the ground in shock. “Emily?! Is that- is it really you?” he breathed, rushing to the figure and kneeling down. Surely enough, the stranger smiled up at him with kind brown eyes.

“Oh hi, Henry,” they managed to croak - before promptly collapsing unconscious.

When Em’s eyes fluttered back open, the first thing he saw was Henry standing over him, a look of worry on his face as he gently rubbed at his dirty skin with a damp towel. He gave the ginger haired boy an odd look. “Uh… Henry?”

“Good lord thank goodness you’re awake!” Henry exclaimed. Em blinked at him.

“What… what are you doing?”

“Hold still - I’m trying to figure out where all this blood came from!” Em couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“Henry. Henry-” He reached out and gently grabbed his arm. “It’s not my blood.” Henry stared, then gave him a curious look, and slowly set the cloth down.

“Oh thank goodness,” he breathed with relief. There was a pause, then his curious expression returned to one of concern. “Whose blood is it?”

“Cadaver,” Em replied simply, turning away and coughing into his shoulder. “It’s a long story.” Henry stared a moment longer, then smiled.

“Well I can’t wait to hear it.” Em smiled in return, but his smile quickly faded when a muffled voice called from somewhere outside. Henry glanced up. “I’ll- I’ll be right back. Father wants me in for supper.” Em nodded. “Don’t go anywhere!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Clerval.”

Henry sat anxiously at the table, fidgeting with the silverware and wishing he could be back in the stable with Emily. Secretly stuffed into his pocket were a few pieces of bread he intended to smuggle to his dear friend, while the food on his own plate went relatively untouched. His father sat at the head of the table, his mother directly across from him, and as usual there was awkward silence between them. “So. Henry,” his father began, breaking the silence. Henry sank in his chair, wishing he wasn’t being spoken to at the moment. “Have you decided?” Henry glanced up to him.

“Decided? Decided on what?”

“Is that not what you were doing out there? You said that you would be able to think of which trade you want to pursue better while on horseback.” Henry sheepishly looked away.

“Oh. Right. I… yes. I was thinking about it,” he answered at a length. “Definitely was thinking about that.”

“And?” He could feel his father’s gaze on him, and he shrunk down further in his chair.

“And… I still haven’t figured it out yet?” His father sighed heavily, his fork clattering onto his plate as he pressed his head into his palms.

“Henry, you’re a young man now. You need to start taking your future seriously!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

“I’ve got time! Besides, I have an idea of what I want to do but-”

“Please don’t say ‘travel the world and write stories,’” His father cut him off, mentioning his goals mockingly. Henry frowned.

“That is exactly what I want to do. Yes.”

“Traveling and story writing don’t pay, Henry!”

“Yes they do!”

“Not enough they don’t! We have talked about this before Henry - either you take up the family business or you take up a different trade. There is no other option!”

“I have plenty of options! Just let me go to university!”

“Absolutely not, Henry.” Henry groaned, putting his forehead on the table.

“Why can’t you just let me do what I know I’m meant to do?” he grumbled.

“Because this family has a reputation to keep, and you are the only one to keep it!” his father exclaimed. Henry glanced up at his mother, but she simply stayed silent. He groaned louder and looked back at his father.

“Permission to be excused?” he muttered.

“Yes but-”

“Perfect. Thank you. I’ll be back later.” With that, Henry stood and hurried out of the dining room, leaving his father to shout something after him - though his mind was too preoccupied to hear what it was he said.

“Emily?” Henry called out in a quiet whisper as he reentered the stable, lit lamp in hand. He glanced around, waiting for a response, then called out again. “Emily?!” When no response came, he ran to the hay stall to find his friend still lying on the hay, still as stone with his eyes closed. Henry stared at him a moment longer. “...Emily?” Still no response. In the dark, he couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, and he grew frightened. He reached out, grabbing his arm and shaking it. “Emily!”

“Good god Clerval!” Em suddenly exclaimed with a gasp, jumping awake. Henry let out a sigh of relief as he nearly fell back.

“Oh thank goodness you’re ok.”

“Of course I’m ok, Henry! I just spent months walking here from Paris on foot, I’m exhausted,” Em explained. Henry’s eyes widened.

“You got all the way to Paris?” Em thought for a moment, then smiled.

“I did.”

“What was it like?!” Henry exclaimed, his expression brightening. For a moment, Em was lost for words. He had forgotten how much he missed Henry, how much he missed the way his hazel eyes would light up and sparkle at the mention of anything that peaked his interest, how strands of his ginger hair would fall in wavy tangles over his freckled cheeks… he blinked the thoughts away, then grinned.

“It was horrible, disgusting, and absolutely wonderful. I hated it and loved it all at the same time.” Henry chuckled.

“Sounds like Paris to me.” He slowly sat down, turning and resting his back against the hay bales Em lay upon. “So what brought you back? Did things… not work out there?” Em shrugged.

“Things were ok for the most part. It was a rough life, but it was a lot of fun. I made friends, learned a lot about… well about a lot of things, I suppose. Never had a true home, but I felt home enough out there on the streets with the friends I had.” Henry felt a sudden pain in his chest at the sound of that, and he glanced down at the floor. “We got into some trouble though. ...More like I got into some trouble and unfortunately somebody else got partially blamed for it. And then, I guess, I realized I needed to come home.” He looked down at Henry. “Or at least to as much as a home as I’ve got.” Henry turned his gaze up to him and smiled slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here safe now.” Em nodded.

“Me too.” There was silence between them, Em tapping his fingers idly on the hay beneath him as he thought about his next words carefully. “But that’s… not the only reason I came back.” Henry turned his eyes back ahead.

“Oh?”

“Yes. See- there’s something I discovered-”

“Some scientific marvel?” Henry teased, grinning. Em smirked.

“Well yes, but no.” He hesitated, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s… I’m… I discovered something about myself.” More silence. “Henry I- … Henry I’m actually…” Em sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled harshly. “I discovered that I’m… a man.” Henry blinked, then looked up at him.

“Is that it?” Em shot his gaze down to him.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’” Henry shrugged. “You’re not… you’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“...I don’t know, most people seem to think it’s crazy- or weird or- unnatural- but it’s not! It’s-”

“Emily. You don’t need to justify yourself to me.” Em froze, staring down at him as he gazed back with a smile. “If you say that’s who you are, then it is who you are. Who am I to say otherwise? Who is anyone to say otherwise? You know yourself better than anyone else.” Henry’s smile suddenly faded as he realized there were tears dripping from Em’s eyes. “I- Was I supposed to be upset?” Em sniffled and let out an awkward laugh.

“No- no I’m just-” He paused, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t know what I was expecting but… I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to be just so accepting.” Henry looked up at him with a sympathetic gaze.

“I’ll try not to be too offended by that,” he mused sarcastically. Em giggled and waved his hand dismissively.

“You know what I meant.” Henry nodded. “My point is… thank you. I couldn’t possibly ask for a better friend than you, Henry.”

“I do have one question, though.”

“Hm?” Em looked down at him, suddenly feeling himself fill with anxiety.

“What does this change? I mean… is there anything that’s different about you now?” Em breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well… for one thing, I’ve been going by just Em for a few years now.” Henry nodded, taking a mental note of that. “But I’m still trying to think of a better name for myself. Maybe… you could help me with that at some point?” Henry grinned.

“I’d be honored!”

“Excellent.” With great effort, Em started to sit upright, struggling to put his weight on his shaking arms. “There is… something else, though. Another reason why I came here.”

“Go on,” Henry encouraged, standing and hopping up onto the hay bale to give Em some support to sit upright. Em took a deep breath.

“This is going to sound crazy,” he began. “I need to… perform surgery.” He paused, and turned to look at Henry, who was staring at him blankly. “On myself.”

“Okay! When do we-” Henry began, until what Em had just said fully registered in his brain. “Wait, what?” Em grinned sheepishly.

“I need to perform surgery on myself,” he repeated, more confidently this time. Henry blinked.

“...That sounds incredibly dangerous. Is there something wrong with you? Why can’t you, I don’t know, get a real doctor to help you?” Em frowned.

“Well it’s nothing that’s wrong with me- it’s just…” He sighed. “I’m… I’ve grown up, I guess. And even though I never really felt weird in my body before, things started changing and suddenly it just… didn’t quite feel right anymore, if that makes any sense. Apparently it’s a common symptom of being… well… whatever I am. See- I had this friend, his name was René and he was… you know, the same as me. He used to tell me all the time how he wished there was a way to just get rid of the parts of himself that didn’t feel right, and- well you know me, Henry, when somebody says they wish something was possible, I have to find a way to make it possible.” Henry listened carefully, and nodded with a grin.

“That’s for sure.”

“Well… that’s when I decided I would try to figure it out - that way I could make it happen for him, and maybe even train him so he could do the same for me! Henry, we could’ve changed the world for countless others like us!” Henry blinked.

“...So why didn’t you?” Em suddenly went quiet, then exhaled softly.

“I knew it would take an awful lot of practice, and no doctor would ever reasonably let me apprentice under them for such an undertaking so… I may or may not have taken matters into my own hands.” Henry stared blankly. “Hence… cadavers. René helped me steal the tools I needed and aided me with breaking into the morgue every night so I could practice. All was going well, but it turns out people don’t seem to be overly keen on evidence being tampered with or bodies being ‘desecrated.’ So one night just as I finally got every part of my methods down correctly, we got caught. We both ran, but we had to split up and… I know René slipped but… I was too busy with my own pursuers to turn back for him.” He stared off into the distance, a suddenly sorrowful expression in his eyes. “I hope he’s ok… but it was then that I realized it would be unsafe for me to stay, and the only other person I could think of who could help me with such an undertaking as this… was you.” Henry’s eyes widened.

“Em I hardly think I’m qualified-”

“You don’t have to be! I can teach you. I’ll do most of the work, and you just have to do what I tell you, and everything should work out just fine.” Henry crossed his arms with a sigh. He thought it through, and although he wanted so badly to say no, the look of determination on Em’s face convinced him well enough that this was something his dear friend so desperately needed.

“As long as you think we can pull it off, you know I’ll always be here to help,” he reassured him with a smile. Em grinned, suddenly lurching forward and embracing him in as tight a hug as he could muster. Henry sat stunned, his cheeks suddenly burning as he felt himself blush, but he nervously chuckled and wrapped his arms around Em in return, not realizing that Em’s own pale cheeks were turning bright pink, until both of them awkwardly released each other and sat there turned away from one another. “Well… I suppose I should be off to bed,” Henry muttered, still with a sheepish smile on his face. Em flopped back down onto the hay, resting his hands behind his head. “We can talk more in the morning and- oh!” Henry pulled out the bread he had smuggled from his pockets, and held it out to Em, who gladly snatched it and immediately began shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. “Figured you were hungry so… heh. Anyways… I’ll see about bringing you breakfast tomorrow too, just like old times.” Em grinned up at him.

“Jus’ ‘ike o’ ‘imes,” he answered, mouth still full with bread. Henry hopped down from the hay bales, taking his lantern once again.

“I’m glad you came back, Em,” he mentioned, standing just outside the stall door. Em turned and glanced back at him, smiling brightly.

“I’m glad to be back. I missed you, Henry. Nothing is ever the same without you, you know.”

“Same to you, Em.” With that, Henry strode out and quietly closed the door behind him. As he started back toward the house, he paused, turning back toward the stable with a bittersweet gaze and a flutter in his chest. You have no idea just how much I missed you, he thought. But you’re here now, and that’s- that’s good enough for me. Filled with a sudden surge of energy, he jumped into the air with an exclamation of joy and ran back to the house, twirling and prancing as he ran until he was dizzy from the thrill. He paused at the door, panting, looking back toward the stable with a massive grin and a glimmer in his eyes. “Oh Em,” he breathed out loud, chest heaving as he caught his breath, “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

#frankenstein au #tw blood mention #ask to tag #lmao i considered proof reading this but it's 11:26 PM and i'm exhausted so. hopefully there's no huge errors in it fbvdvhbjvhdbvjfhvbdfv #we'll see i guess!

21 notes · View notes

comradeboyhalo · 3 years ago

Note

POV for ur good omens au? or any other one u secretly want asked :)

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

i used this as a warm up exercise so it ended up being 700 words oops anyways heres the scene where bad just wants a cow

It had probably meant nothing to Skeppy, looking back on it.

The year was 1832. Bad had just gotten back from a particularly tough assignment, although they all felt tough nowadays. Demons, after all, were good at their jobs because they didn’t feel for humans. There was no need to grieve every human hurt, or to mourn every kind village they betrayed, or to see the world wracked with pain and knowing that it was their duty to foster it. And yet...and yet.

Bad never prided himself on being good at his job, anyways.

Today was rough. He had no place to return to (Hell was off the table, and had been for centuries now), so he found himself aimlessly wandering from country to country, restless and not wanting his mind to ramble. His feet, inevitably, brought him to the one person he could confidently call home.

Skeppy never asked any questions, and Bad was endlessly grateful for it.

They were both on the roof of a barn as they waited impatiently for the sun to come up in the chilled morning air, Bad swinging his legs over the side as Skeppy sat beside him. Skeppy was eagerly trying to convince Bad to pull a prank, and the distraction, while unintended, was well-needed.

“Humans can be so clueless sometimes,” Skeppy was saying eagerly, “you could get away with anything.”

“I think...I think I should give them a cow,” Bad said thoughtfully. A milk cow, preferably. The farm didn’t own one yet, and Bad was quite worried that the children living on it would grow up calcium-deficient. That was a valid concern, right? “That would be a good, evil thing to do.”

“...A cow.” Skeppy sounded painfully unimpressed. “As a demon, you can mess with these people as much as possible, and you choose to do it via cow? Do you know how much I hate you right now?”

“A cow is an excellent prank,” Bad said primly. They could use it for profit as well, couldn’t they? “Imagine how confused they would be!”

“Demons aren’t supposed to make people confused,” Skeppy said, matter-of-fact. “They’re supposed to terrorize them.”

A lump caught in Bad’s throat at the words. “Fine,” he mumbled, feeling childishly upset. They were joking, and yet this silly argument about demons was making him want to cry.

It had been a long day.

Skeppy just sighed and snapped his fingers. Bad followed his gaze to see a small, suspiciously cow-shaped figure materialize in the distance, “There.” He sounded exasperated. “I spawned a cow.”

“Oh my goodness!” Bad clapped his hands. “You did it.” He stared at the cow for a couple of seconds as it wandered dazedly, then looked at Skeppy, who had indulged him in what was possibly the strangest thing he’s ever proposed, and promptly burst into laughter. “Skeppy that was such a dumb idea,” he gasped, chest shaking with barely-suppressed giggles. “You didn’t have to indulge me like that, Skeppy, why?”

Skeppy was staring at him as if he had grown a third head. “It’s really not that funny,” he said weakly.

“No it’s really funny,” Bad wheezed. He was beginning to feel light-headed. “It just--it looks so lost!”

“I took it from Peru!” Skeppy defended himself.

“Peru,” Bad gasped out, and started laughing all over again.

It took Bad a whole five minutes to calm himself down, taking deep breaths in and out to stop himself from cracking up every ten seconds. When he had finally gotten a hold of himself, he turned to apologize to Skeppy, and found Skeppy already staring at him.

His eyes were exceedingly soft, with a smile that was just barely there. He was looking at Bad like no one had ever looked at him, as if he were the only person left in the world. As if Bad was someone worth loving, even with the blood that forever stained his hands.

The amusement drained out of Bad, just like that. He swallowed. “You’re staring at me.”

“I’m sorry.” Skeppy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, ducking his head. “I just--I’ve never seen you laugh before.”

“Oh,” Bad said quietly as he came to the realization. “No one’s really made me laugh before.”

It probably had meant nothing to Skeppy. The conversation must have been a blip in his thousands of years of living: just some silly joke between them that was lost amongst the millions of other conversations they’ve shared. But it had marked a first for Bad, and it wasn’t very often that immortals experienced a first.

#the scene that i wrote as a joke reference to old sk/ppy videos #bbh pov makes it sad now #ask

14 notes · View notes

thinkingisadangerouspastime · 4 years ago

Note

what do you think about the aang is possessive comment? about EIP ruining kataang? also about there being an implied (and nonexistent) love triangle thrown in nearing the end of the series as a tease?

I think fandom just likes to complain, lmao, but I’ll address each of these one at a time!

1) “aang is possessive”

This argument is honestly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard because it’s just so obviously false?? Possessive is literally defined as “demanding someone’s total attention and love,” which Aang never does? Aang always respects Katara’s position in their relationship, especially after the EIP kiss, which everyone knows was entirely inappropriate and wrong of him. Aang recognizes her hesitation and makes no more romantic attempts towards her after that moment. Not one! Katara is the one who initiates them getting together in the finale because the war is finally over and she is no longer afraid of losing him. I beg people, do point to the “possessiveness” you’re referring to, because the closest we get to any character being possessive is Zuko in “The Beach”:

Zuko: [Side-view of Zuko and Mai walking.] He thinks he’s so great. [To Mai.] Well, what do you think of him?

Mai: I don’t have any opinion about him. I hardly know him.

Zuko: You like him, don’t you? [Mai sighs and walks away.]

Ruon-Jian: What are you doing?

Zuko: [Close-up. Angrily.] Stop talking to my girlfriend!

Ruon-Jian: [Side-view. Walks up to Zuko.] Relax. It’s just a party.

Frontal view of Ruon-Jian. Zuko knocks him across the room into a vase, which breaks from the force.

Yeah, Aang never acts like that. 🤷

Now, this isn’t to say Aang doesn’t get jealous. Jealousy is a perfectly normal and natural emotion, and honestly I’d go so far as to say that everyone has been jealous at least once in their life. What’s key about Aang is he doesn’t act on his jealousy. He doesn’t throw anybody across a room, for one. Sure, he doesn’t want Katara to kiss Jet, so he makes a little quiet comment about it. Pretty normal, and it ends there. Not dissimilar to Katara’s bit of snark about On Ji! Even the EIP comment, which everyone uses to argue that Aang is “possessive” (which again, blatantly untrue, because he does not demand or expect a relationship with Katara as a result of that scene; also all he does is nod lmao and tbh that’s such a healthy reaction to jealousy I mean he doesn’t grab Zuko and chuck him onto the stage like his name is Ruon-Jian, does he?) - Aang literally just gets upset about the implication from an imperialist play that Katara doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. Why?

Let’s be frank: Aang knows, or is fairly certain, that Katara does like him by this point in the series. That’s why he doesn’t ask her “do you like me”. Instead, he asks:

Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.

By this point the show, the viewers know their feelings are mutual. Katara knows how Aang feels about her, and Aang knows Katara likes him, too - he just isn’t sure about how ready she is for a relationship. So him getting upset about the propagandist, pro-imperialism play implying Katara isn’t interested in him, when he essentially knows she does like him, is honestly kind of understandable? Imagine if you were watching a really rude movie about your life and it included a scene of your best friend who you’re already kind of in a relationship with saying that they’re in love with the dude who used to bully you and only think of you as their sibling. Like, that’s kinda wack? I’d be a little upset - and definitely weirded out - too.

(I’ve also seen people argue Aang leaving Guru Pathik to save Katara also somehow demonstrates his so-called possessiveness, as if his love for her and her love for him wasn’t established mere minutes earlier to be the love of the Air Nomads reborn. I don’t think the show could have been any clearer about how mutual, powerful, and honest their love is through that scene. Also, he proceeds to let her go to enter the Avatar state at the end of what? The next episode? So again, any arguments that he was “possessive” and “didn’t let her go” are thus moot and entirely inapplicable points.)

Basically, Aang isn’t “possessive” and people who think he is are just looking for an excuse to hate on him, lmao.

2) “eip ruined kataang”

The only way EIP could have ruined Kataang would be if all the previous Kataang buildup was either terrible or near-nonexistent. And great news! Kataang was built up very well throughout the series, growing from a close, deep friendship to cute, blushy crushes to a true, lasting romance (pretty iconic of them). Even if someone doesn’t ship them, they can acknowledge that within canon, Kataang had a very strong foundation (it’s one of the core relationships of the show, the other being Zuko and Aang as narrative foils). The implication that one poorly written episode somehow cancels out the previous 56 episodes and the following four is embarrassing.

Now, I certainly wouldn’t have minded if there had been a scene dedicated to Aang and Katara discussing his poorly-timed kiss. I ship Kataang, so there is absolutely no reason for me to be opposed to more Kataang content! But A:TLA has a very clear trend of not showing such discussions on screen - example: Zuko never sits down with Katara and apologizes for using her mother’s necklace to manipulate her; Katara never apologizes to Sokka for her callous comment about their mother - so the fact that Katara is the one to initiate their relationship at the end of the serious clearly demonstrates that she has forgiven Aang for his inappropriate kiss and is ready to be with him. (And I’ve said it before - if she can forgive Zuko for all the shit he put them through, she can forgive Aang, her best friend and the guy she loves, for one poorly-timed kiss.) Narratively speaking, ’twas resolved.

Also, it’s incredibly important to consider EIP within the context of the series as a whole. If someone really feels entirely devastated by that one episode, then… their loss? I’m sorry to hear it? 56 episodes of near-flawless buildup - a slight dip + a healthy, logical finale where Katara chooses to be with Aang because she is at last no longer afraid of losing him = more than good enough for me. People can argue her decision doesn’t make sense all they want, but it actually makes perfect sense when you consider what has been built through every previous episode: she was in love with him! You can’t isolate a single episode and expect it to speak for the series as a whole, after all.

Basically, EIP gets blown out of proportion because some people like to pretend it was the only Kataang episode ever written, lmao.

3) love triangle

I always laugh when I see this because where?? The only love triangle in A:TLA was the one fandom invented. Within the canon narrative, Katara and Zuko were never romantically interested in each other. I don’t care about “shipping-goggle interpretations” or AUs or post-canon or early planning that didn’t make it into the final drafts. If you look at A:TLA, if you look at the creators’ intentions, it’s plain as day that Kataang and Maiko were the only romantic pairings planned for Katara and Zuko. And that’s okay! That’s why fanon exists. But people have got to stop whining about a love triangle and ship teases that just… didn’t occur. If they read Zuko and Katara’s interactions as romantic, well, that’s great and all, but it’s also on them, lol. That sounds so mean oml I’m sorry y’all 💀. I just mean that Kataang was very clearly written into the show from episode 1 and Maiko from Book 2 (or Book 3 if you really, really don’t like the flashback), so expecting Zuko and Katara to get together doesn’t make any sense (to me) when they never had any romantically-coded interactions.

Yes, of course I’ll admit there were a few Zvtara gags, but that’s exactly what they were - gags. There’s three primary instances:

- June calling the owner of the Water Tribe necklace (whom we know is Katara) Zuko’s girlfriend in Book 1. This moment is mainly hilarious because Zuko promptly redirects the conversation to Aang, lmao, but thinking about the context of A:TLA itself? The assumption of the Fire Nation crown prince being in a relationship with someone from the Water Tribe is honestly pretty concerning given how the Fire Nation is an imperialist conqueror and has all but destroyed the Water Tribes (and has certainly worked to sever the connection between the North and South). So, not exactly a great conclusion on June’s part.

- The EIP gag. I ALWAYS laugh at this one because their reactions are so funny? I love the little disgusted nose wrinkles and scooting away. That’s hysterical to me. But again, thinking about the show itself, EIP is an imperialist play full of Fire Nation propaganda. With that in mind, again, the implication that their crown prince was with someone from the SWT, a nation they brought to its knees by killing all of the waterbenders (but one) and thus eradicating so much of the SWT’s culture? Major red flags! People need to consider the implications of EIP as imperialist propaganda, basically, because that’s what it is. Ignoring that aspect means missing the entire point of the play.

- June part 2. What I said above still applies. Also, they both get embarrassed and hotly deny it, which is kind of the opposite of a ship tease to me? They don’t exchange like an “oh, but what if” glance or anything, lol. And June backs off immediately, so... 🤷

People who interpret that as serious ship teases are, bless their hearts, a little misguided. Those are just funny moments! It’s like Katara and Sokka dressing up as Aang’s parents in “The Headband”. It’s funny! It’s contextual! Sokka and Katara are not romantically interested in each other just because they dressed up as husband and wife (ew), just as Katara and Zuko aren’t romantically interested in each other because there were three jokes about it. I really don’t know what else to say lmao.

Now, I don’t know all about what Bryke did outside of A:TLA in regards to Zuko and Katara’s relationship and fans of it. I wasn’t here for that lol. But I do know that A:TLA built a beautiful, platonic bond akin to surrogate siblings between Zuko and Katara (highlighted by the final Agni Kai with Katara and Azula as foils). Not a love triangle. “The Southern Raiders” was an episode about Katara and Kya, not Zuko and Katara. “The Crossroads of Destiny” paints an aching, gorgeous parallel between Oma and Shu and Katara and Aang, not Katara and Zuko. “The Boiling Rock: Part 2” was an episode involving the loyalty and love of Mai and Zuko, not Katara and Zuko. Katara and Aang had romantic parallels, Mai and Zuko had romantic parallels, while Katara and Zuko - within canon - had strictly platonic development. And honestly, fandom should appreciate that more! How often do we get such an iconic relationship between a guy and a gal that isn’t shadowed by romance? (The answer: not often enough.)

Now, this doesn’t mean don’t ship Katara and Zuko. I don’t care what people ship lmao, and there are some interpretations of Zvtara that I really enjoy (post-canon Zvtara has so much potential,, I die a thousand deaths oml)! But insisting there was some love triangle thrown at the end of the series is a discredit to how well Aang and Katara’s and Zuko and Katara’s relationships were written in A:TLA, and I’m honestly tired of hearing such tomfoolery. A romantic relationship between Zuko and Katara within canon would have completely undermined his entire redemption arc, which further emphasizes that their canon bond was meant to be solely platonic, because why would the writers want to undo what most consider the best redemption arc in animated history? (Simply put, I don’t think they would.)

Also, A:TLA had a very clear history of staying away from love triangles. There’s no Aang x Katara x Jet love triangle. No Yue x Sokka x Suki love triangle. So why would there be an Aang x Katara x Zuko love triangle?

Case in point: there isn’t. Fandom invented it.

So that’s my thoughts, anon! It can be summarized as this: fandom makes up a lot of nonsense that simply rewatching the show can dispute, so maybe we should just start providing episode timestamps to people, lol.

A general note - people are free to disagree with this post, but I ain’t looking to argue, so… make your own post if you want to develop a “counterargument”, I guess? I’m just chillin™ lol I don’t want to fight with people. I can give you my PayPal if you’d really like to engage in a proper academic debate? Anyways. Much love! 💕

#adding the line break after i post!!#katara #aang #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #kataang #atla meta #the ember island players #amy answers #anon #amy analyzes

116 notes · View notes

bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years ago

Text

~Jungkook soulmate AU~

It’s that same dream again. You’re standing on stage in front of tens of thousands of people. They are all shouting your name, but you can’t hear whose name they are saying. You look to your left and can make out 6 other guys. One with light brown hair and dimples when he smiles. One with black hair who nearly falls off stage when he laughs. Another one with bright purple hair who’s laugh makes you feel warm inside. There’s a guy slightly taller than you next to you. His voice is quite deep but his eyes sparkle when he looks at the crowd. You look intently into his eyes, trying to see if you can see your reflection in them but it’s of no use. Your image is blurred out in them too. A smaller man with silver hair is talking now. His eyes remind you of a cat’s, but there is a softness in them when he is looking at the fans. And there’s the final member standing at the end, who’s smile looks like it could rival the sun’s. You have no idea who they are, every time a name is said the sound is muffled. You feel that fate is toying with you. Letting you see through the eyes of your soulmate, but not letting you hear the exact things that would make you able to find out who they are.

And just like every other dream you’ve had previously, right before your soulmate is about to introduce himself, you wake up, startled and covered in a cold sweat. You glance down and inspect your body, making sure it is yours you are back in. You sigh heavily and lay back down against the pillows glancing up at the ceiling. So far you knew very few things about your soulmate.

1. He was obviously in amazing shape. In one of your dreams one of the other guys had lifted your shirt up and the crowd went wild. You glanced down in curiosity and were pleasantly surprised by the amount of muscle that was on your body.

2. He was obviously a singer or performer of some sort. And was in a group with 6 other guys.

3. He was Korean. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying but you had googled a few words you thought you had heard and discovered that they were in Korean.

4. He was loved and adored by many. The group must be popular if they are performing on front of this many people.

5. Finding him was probably going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Googling the hair colors of the other members had yielded many search results. Apparently lots of idols had dyed their hair purple. And a few others had dimples as well. You weren’t able to fully see the other members. Most of their faces were blurred out except for the few features the dreams allowed you to see. These must be the ones that stood out to your soulmate the most, or that he particularly cherished about them. You were at least fairly confident that your soulmate was in a kpop group. A very popular one at that. But you could never tell what country they were touring in so you had no way of even narrowing it down by which city they were in.

Your phone alarm suddenly went off, signaling that it was time for you to get up and go to your office and meet with your publisher about the release date for your latest story. It was a tale of two soulmates, their only connection being through their dreams. And you gave the main characters a happy ending in hopes that it would allow fate to give you both the same kindness.

Jungkook woke up startled. He shot out of bed with his eyes wide and heart racing. He got out of bed in an attempt to ground himself. His feet touched the plush carpet of the hotel room. The feeling helped center him in reality. He walked towards the mirror and turned on the light, seeing his own reflection staring back at him was a comfort. He turned the handle on the faucet and let the water run until it was ice cold before splashing it on his face. When he glanced back up, his hyung was staring at him in the mirror.

“Did you have that dream again?”

“Yeah. Same one. Actually, well this time it was different. I don’t know it’s hard to explain. I finally got to meet her. Instead of the usual where it’s me trying to figure out clues on how to find her. But her face was blurred. I couldn’t make out any defining features. But goodness when I was finally able to hug her it was like every worry or concern I had just melted away. I really want to find her but I don’t know how and it’s so frustrating! I’m living out the main character’s lives in her novels and this one is literally our story. She gave them a happy ending, so I can only hope the same happens for us.” Jungkook’s voice cracks at the end and he’s immediately enveloped in a hug. “It’s so frustrating, Jimin. I have all these clues but no idea where to even go with this.”

“It’s okay, Jungkookie. I know you two will find each other some day. Soulmates always do. Let’s go over again when you know so far?”

“She writes novels. She lives in a big city somewhere. She speaks English. Normally the books she writes are fantasy ones but this one was realistic. I think it’s her way of helping me find her maybe? Like maybe if I look up the plot line of this next novel I can find her.”

“So start there then!”

“I know a lot of English now since I have been studying but I don’t know how to look up this plot line.”

“Maybe just look up new books about soulmates and dreams? See whichever article looks to be the most recent?”

“I’m sure many people have written about this before, hyung.”

“True. But your situation is unique. You’re famous. Surely she knows this from the dreams she’s probably had about being on stage from your point of view. You just need to find one with the plot centered around that.”

“That’s... actually a very good idea. Thank you, Jiminie.”

“Jiminie hyung to you. And you’re welcome! Now come on it’s still early. Go back to sleep for a little bit we have to prepare for the first date of our world tour tomorrow! We’re gonna have to be up in a couple hours.” Jungkook groans at this.

“How am I supposed to sleep when the possibility of me meeting my soulmate is so close?!”

“Just figure out a way. You can look for her tomorrow. Right now you need sleep. We don’t want you passing out on stage, so come on now!” Jimin shoves him out the door and Jungkook reluctantly crawls back into bed. Jimin walks to the door that connects their two rooms. “I’ll try to look for you tomorrow too when I have time, okay? That can be our focus after rehearsal is done.”

“Okay. Thank you, hyung.”

“Of course.”

Jimin shuts the door and all is quiet. Jungkook tries to sleep. Really he does. But really, he’s potentially one Internet search away from finding you.

Resist the temptation, Kook. You can do it. Be strong!

He rolls over onto his side and gazes out the window... Then promptly turns back around and grabs his phone off the hotel nightstand and does a quick search for the plot line of your book. An article comes up so he clicks on it. He sees that your book is being released in just a few short days! And as fate would have it, one of the signings just so happens to be in the same city as one of his concerts. It has to be you. There is no doubt in his mind. You have the same hair and build as the girl in his dream. He clicks play on a video where you are being interviewed about your own book.

“It’s actually my own story. Well, although mine isn’t finished yet. I see things that my soulmate does through my dreams. He is actually someone famous in a boy group. I know he’s Korean. But that’s about it. I’m hoping through this book he’ll be able to find me, since it’s our story...” You go on to talk more but Jungkook cannot hear it over the pounding heart beat in his own ears. It’s you! It’s really you! He shouts happily and begins flailing about in the bed when suddenly the door is swung open, and a very grumpy looking Jimin is standing in the doorway.

“Jungkook, what on earth-”

“I found her, hyung! Her name is y/n! Look!” He practically shoves the phone in his face and Jimin has to back away to let his eyes focus before they widen in shock.

“Oh my god! You really did! This is amazing! And look one of her book signings is the same day as our tour date! Kook! You’re going to meet your soulmate in just a few days!” Jimin tackles him onto the bed and rolls over next to him, looking fondly at the maknae as he’s endlessly scrolling through your social media, watching your interviews, and reading up on what he can about you.

“She’s beautiful, Jimin. And everything I could have imagined and more. Oh my goodness look at how many books she’s written she must be so smart and creative. And listen to her laugh!” He goes on like that absolutely gushing over you. “I’m going to message her.”

“No! Jungkook, don’t.”

“Why not? I’m positive it is her.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be more meaningful to have your first interaction be in person? You can just show up at her book sign and boom! There you go. Couple of the year. Couple of the century. I wonder what’s your couple name going to be.”

“Jimin you sound just as excited about this as me.”

“Because I am! Our little Jungkookie is finally going to meet his soulmate. But seriously now it’s time for bed. You gotta be up in 2 hours now so at least try to get some sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, Kook. Sweet dreams.”

“Oh I have a feeling from now on they will be.”

**The day of the concert and book signing**

You’re on the way to your fan meeting when suddenly a billboard and flash of purple hair catches your eye.

BTS to perform at the stadium tonight at 7pm!

“Stadium? Wait a minute.. The purple hair.. the silver... His eyes. Oh my god!” You run up to the billboard to get a closer look but by the time you get closet it’s changed to a different advertisement. You sigh heavily, pulling out your phone ready to snap a photo the next time it scrolls by. When it does you take a photo and closely inspect it.

“Oh my god I am an idiot. How did I not notice this sooner! My soulmate is in BTS. Holy shit.” You gaze at all of their faces until you see one you’ve never seen any defining features of in your dreams. “That must be him. Jungkook? Oh he’s so cute oh my god.” You pull out your phone and lose yourself in the searches, watching interviews, looking at pictures, watching a music video. “They are so insanely talented it’s not fair and oh! Look at these photos of him when they debuted! What a little cutie I wanna squish his cheeks.” Your fawning is interrupted when a call comes in from your publisher. You glance at the time and realize you are late to your own book signing.

“Shit. I’m so sorry! I got side tracked but I am on my way!”

“You better hurry up y/n! There’s a ton of people here right now! What on earth were you doing?”

“I found my soulmate! Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry what? Did you say Jungkook, like BTS Jungkook?”

“Yes! Do you know them?”

“I’ve been a fan of theirs for years. I’m actually going to their show tonight. My friend bailed on me last minute so I have an extra ticket if you want to go with-”

“Yes! 100 times yes, please take me with you!”

“Ok ok! You can come with me just.. how are you planning on finding him?”

“....”

“Y/n? You still there?”

“Sorry. Just thinking. I didn’t plan that far ahead. They’re basically untouchable how on earth am I going to ever meet him?”

“Oh come on y/n. I’m sure fate wouldn’t be that cruel to you! Have a little faith.”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up. I think for now I will just be content with admiring him from afar. Anyway I gotta go. I’m approaching the building now. Bye.” You end the call and your heart sinks. You have no chance of meeting him. You’re from different countries. He’s in arguably the biggest band in the world. You probably can’t get within 10 feet of them without getting tackled to the ground by their security. And besides he’d probably just think you were some crazy delusional fan. You feel disappointment and sadness threatening to spill out as tears, but quickly shove it back down as you see the line of your own fans waiting to meet you. You plaster a smile on your face and enter through the back, sitting down at the table and just hoping this time will pass by quickly so you can go home and sulk before the concert.

As the line begins to dwindle you notice a gentleman at the very back of he line. He’s dressed rather casually, in sweat pants and a huge Carharttt t-shirt. You admire the tattoos on his arm and wonder what the meaning is behind them. He’s wearing a bucket hat and sunglasses, and a face mask, clearly not wanting to be noticed. Either that or he was an axe murderer come to make you face your doom. You laugh internally and quickly shake that thought away. You always did have an overactive imagination after all, you are a writer. When he finally approaches the table you can’t help but feel a weird fluttering in your stomach. Like your gut is trying to tell you something. You are uneasy and aren’t sure why. He seems to be feeling the same if the way he’s constantly looking over his shoulder around him is any indication.

“You’re not some serial killer here to make me meet my untimely demise are you?”

“W-what? No! What the hell? Why on earth would you think that?” You can’t help but find his accent adorable.

“Gee, I don’t know! Maybe because clearly you don’t want anyone to know your identity! Easy for a quick getaway if no one knows who you are. And you keep glancing around all suspicious to see if people are watching you.” You lift your eyebrow and give him an accusatory glare,

“If I didn’t want to be identified in a crime I would have covered my tattoos.” He lifts and eyebrow at you back, as if to challenge you further.

“That’s a fair point. You got me there.” He starts giggling and says something in Korean. Your heart goes flying into your throat as the realization hits you.

“I don’t want anyone to see me because I don’t want to get mobbed by my own fans. And I’m nervous because wow you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He lowers the mask for a second and you gasp audibly.

“It’s you! The guy from my dreams!”

“You use that line often?”

“Oh my god shut up. It’s really you?!” You stand up from the table and reach your hands across it, squishing his cheeks between your hands.

“What are you doing, weirdo?” You can barely make out what he’s saying as it’s muffled due to your playing and pinching his cheeks.

“Making sure you’re real and that I’m not dreaming again. How did you find me? How are you here right now, isn’t your show starting soon? Oh my publicist is gonna flip her shit when she sees you here-” He covers your mouth with his hand and tells you to shh, lifting his mask back up to cover his face.

“I said I didn’t want to be recognized remember?” Your eyes widen and you nod your head. He lowers his hand, and you can tell he’s smiling brightly at you by how his eyes are crinkling at the corners. “Hi. I’m Jungkook.” He holds his hand out and you smack it away, opting to run around the side of the table and throw your arms around him instead.

“I think we’re a little past handshakes.” His arms tighten around you and you rest your head against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his chest against your ear. You sigh happily and feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head. You glance back up at him and see his mask is gone again. And he’s absolutely beaming at you.

“You have the most adorable smile I’ve ever seen.” You don’t mean to speak this out loud but figure you must have by the way his cheeks are flushing bright red.

“Um, T-thank you. I like yours too. And your eyes. And your voice and just... everything.” Now it’s your turn to blush. You glance away from him and notice that everyone has cleared out of the store, seemingly went about their business to give you two a moment of privacy. “So, I was wondering. Do you want to come to our show tonight?”

“Oh! My publicist actually already got us tickets!”

“But I’m sure they’re not front row, huh?”

“Well.. no they certainly aren’t but-” He pulls two tickets out of his jacket pocket and hands them to you. “Here. I look forward to seeing you tonight. I’ll put on an extra good performance just for you.” He winks and ruffles your hair playfully and a giggle bubbles out of you.

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“We’ll be there!” You hear her yell from somewhere in the the store. You both laugh at that and you notice him staring at your lips. He starts to move in before you give him a playful tap on the lips with your finger tips. He looks at you in surprise.

“You at least have to take me on a date first before you get to steal a kiss from me, Mr. Jeon. Just because you’re my soul mate doesn’t mean you get special privileges.” He smiles and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well.. how about after the concert then? We usually all go out for dinner anyway but we can go out just the two of us.”

“I would really like that.”

“Okay then. I’ll um.. see you in a few hours then?”

“Oh you’ll see me alright. And you’ll probably hear me too. I’ll be screaming my lungs out yelling your name.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to his lips as he kisses the back of it and holy- his lips are so soft it makes you nearly take back your words from just moments before, thinking about how they would feel on yours.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too. I’m looking forward to everything. Finally getting to know you, and talk to you, I want to know everything about what makes you the kind, sweet person you are.”

“We have time. All the time in the world.”

“I can’t think of any better way to spend it.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #reader x jungkook #bts soulmae au

228 notes · View notes

smearsyd · 4 years ago

Text

Safe in Your Arms | PCY | Bonus, A/N

Lee Seoyun had scars.

Perhaps she had been saved from physical scars, but they were visible enough to her. Thick reminders stood out in her mind that made words like worthless, not good enough, not grateful enough, unloveable, feel like a second skin. She didn’t think she was capable of healing— her parents had told her that she would always be broken, and weren’t your parents the ones who were supposed to know you the best?

So years ago, when Seoyun tragically spilled her hot chocolate all over the front of poor Park Chanyeol’s winter sweater, she was expecting severe backlash— not a forgiving smile and definitely not a new friend. Muchless, Seoyun never in a million years would have imagined that Park Chanyeol would soon be falling in love with someone like her. To be the person who made her, for the first time, feel safe in his arms.

This is Seoyun healed, despite her scars.

characters:

+ park chanyeol (exo), you as lee seoyun (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + boyfriend!au + fluff and romance

length:

+ 3 parts, bonus drabbles + 25kish in total

warnings:

+ sensitive topics + mentions of traumatic past + smut on part two

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ part one + part two + part three + bonus + masterlist

author’s note:

+ The bonus drabbles are different than I originally planned, but i hope you like them REGARDLESS!!!

if you want to be tagged, please reply to this post!

@bbhmystar @itsmesa @yeolliedimple @uwukyungs00

Authors’s Note (Bonus Drabbles Below):

The idea came to me at the end of what I would unfortunately have to claim as a rather shitty day. It was late, I was tired, I remember that my hands were shaky and I could barely see or breathe. I didn't want anyone to hear me so I got in the shower, something that I've found is just easier. Moments like these can only go three different ways, I've found. The first is that I begin to blame myself, which I know isn't the best thing to do and I would recognize that if I could just think. The second is that I simply, or maybe not simply, stop— stop everything. The more numb, the better. The third thing, or option I suppose, is to stay calm and realize that everything is going to be okay. It always is eventually. Thankfully, I've been resorting to the third option more than the other two. This night was no exception either.

Showers, I think, have a magical power. They make you smell nice, they enable you to sing, and they help you think. Sometimes, though, they make me think too much. And so I found myself thinking, depressing really. I thought about everything I've gone through, everything my friends have gone through, everything my family has gone through, and I asked myself why. Why do we do the things we do even though we know there is really no other purpose than existing? I have never been one to become existential in my way of thinking, but at some point one does wonder if their life will mean anything in the long run.

Of course, I have no answers. I picture that the sky would laugh at us if it could. But while I was thinking, I did have one thought that has been lingering for quite some while. Although, I know deep inside of me that my life, or anyone else's for that fact, doesn't particularly matter, it makes me feel more me while in my skin to think that I could make some kind of difference to another person's life. To think that maybe they didn't have to feel as I did, that they could learn from my mistakes. It's a big assumption, I know. But if there is anything I want to do with my life, it would be to help people, because all in all, everyone needs someone to lean on.

This obviously isn't possible for me— to let everyone lean on my shoulder— but maybe instead I could do something else, something more personal, more solid, and more guiding than what my mere existence could provide. That's where writing enters, very dramatically I would imagine.

Reading to me has proven to become a singular savior, my favorite characters became best friends, their worlds like a secret backyard I could escape to when I felt unwelcome in my own home. I would see through their eyes and live a thousand lives. I felt from them, learned from them, grew from them. If I could somehow become that provider for others than I too could become happy, with myself and my life.

This story is merely a stepping stone, a singular moment explored and told. It doesn't even scratch the surface, but it makes it all worth it if even one of you understood, related, felt, learned from, smiled, laughed, cried. Any of those and it mattered, because the world is a place where all of that is running short.

I hope my readers know that life is more than those bad moments in the shower. That people are worth more than mean comments and hateful words. That times passes and things do get better. Life is what you make it, so make it worth it because there is only one of you and only one life to live.

Love a lot, everything if you can. Take risks, as long as you aren't harming others or yourself. Hug your family and best friends more often. Talk things out when you are angry; don't assume anything. Check on your strong friends. Drink more tea and take more baths. Don't forget that you can say NO. Don't forget that you are worth everything and that you are just as important as everyone else. Most importantly, don't stop struggling to find your happiness. Just like Seoyun says, "she's been climbing for a while, but that in itself is enough for her."

10 Months Later

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Baby.” Came Chanyeol’s concerned, but strong voice from the other side of the wall.

Seoyun was on the verge of ruining her makeup, if she hadn’t already, and her dress was so heavy she wasn’t sure anymore why she chose this one.

“Of co—”

Seoyun cut him off. “—I mean I want this, and I know there is no reason to panic, but I am and I’m so sorry because our wedding is literally in like thirty minutes, but Chan—”

Chanyeol cut her off. “—Take my hand.”

Huh? Came her confused reply. Only moments ago, had Chanyeol’s mom rushed from the bridal room like the world was ending when Seoyun burst into tears over a simple comment the makeup artist had mentioned about men getting cold feet.

His mom had promptly gotten Chanyeol and dragged a pitiful Seoyun from the floor like a suburban type superhero. She had forced him to stay on the other side of the hall before leaving them be, their backs less than a foot apart, yet separated through a thick layer of plaster and wood. Of course, Seoyun could simply step around the opening of the hallway, but then he would see her, and everyone knows that the groom seeing the bride before the wedding is bad luck.

But then a hand appeared from around the edge of the wall, his hand. Seoyun stared at it without moving for reason she wasn’t even sure of, her own shaky hand hesitantly coming out to wrap around his after careful deliberation.

There was silence when they met. And then a light twinkling feeling in the pit of her stomach began to bloom as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on her palm. She rolled her shoulders out and a deep breath was exhaled from her lips. Was that the feeling of relief, she wondered?

“Feel better?”

She almost felt ashamed to say yes, but she knew he understood with or without a wall between them.

“You know I’ve been ready for this since we both said I love you for the first time, because I do love you and I know without a worry of a doubt that you make me happy, and loved, and god Seoyun I thought last night in bed was confirmation enough… I mean I basically came so quic—”

“—Chanyeol!” Seoyun gasped, hitting what little of his arm she could see. “Your mom is just down the hall!”

“I mean I’m sure she knows we have se—”

Seoyun hit him again, but this time, she couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip from her mouth. “Last night was good,” she admitted.

“The best.”

Then they were both laughing, their quiet chuckles not as quiet as they thought they were, cascading down the halls and filling them both up with a giddy kind of love neither of them knew they were capable of. And when they died down, and only smiles remained, his hand was still in hers. Reassuring and so Chanyeol-like that she was beginning to wonder why she worried in the first place.

“So, you don’t have cold feet and you aren’t going to take one look at me walking up the steps and run?”

“Who even said that?”

Seoyun sighed, not wanting him to make a scene or be upset at a probably innocent make-up artist. “Just answer the question.”

“No baby, no cold feet.”

“Good,” came a familiar voice from Chanyeol’s side of the wall, “because the groom has to get to his place now.”

The best man, Baekhyun, popped his head around from where Chanyeol’s hand was, his bright smile comforting to Seoyun. “And I assume you have a few things to finish yourself before you officially get married. You look beautiful by the way,” he added around a kind eye smile.

“Hey,” Baekhyun was pulled forcefully from her sight, “if I can’t see her than you definitely can’t.” Chanyeol huffed.

Baekhyun was already egging him on, their hands separating as Chanyeol went to hit him again. “Too bad, so sad.”

Seoyun listened with a smile as the boy’s voices faded from her hearing until all that was left was her and her light heart.

She can do this, she’s sure of it.

2 Years Later

There were many things in life that Seoyun once thought she hated, but perhaps she was beginning to realize that they were merely things of her past that she thought were unhealable. And as she stared at them now, Chanyeol fast asleep on the couch, his mouth gapping open and their beautiful daughter wrapped tightly in his arms, her small fingers still stuck in a lock of his once silver hair turned naturally black, she knew that the things she loved in this world quite outshined the things she had still yet to heal from.

She found herself kneeling to sit beside them, her eyes roaming over her forever family with disbelief. Did she truly find happiness? Her heart knew the answer to that, and a delicate smile took over her face.

It had been two years since they married, seven since they met. It seemed, in a flip of a coin, that nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. They looked somewhat the same, despite maybe a few shining hairs and a crease here and there, they still smiled the same though, hugged the same, loved the same. The world around them kept spinning, life went on, but she was sure now that they were forever.

It was then that Chanyeol’s eye cracked open to peer over at her. With no words, he simply leaned his head a little closer and pouted his lips out for a kiss. The act was easy, oh so easy, and so routine for her that she had almost forgotten how much she loved his tenderness; how the first thing he wanted when he woke was not to be left alone, not to seek out food or a shower, not even to wake their daughter, Boyoung, instead it was her— as simple and un-simple as that.

Her stomach erupted in a blossom of fluttering wings and a breeze so soft, she found herself guided back to him as if there was nothing more important to life than that. Their lips met, a soft pillowing of sleepy petals and she sighed at the taste of home.

“It’s almost the first, Chan,” she whispered into him. “You fell asleep yet another year.”

“It’s too hard to resist.” He mumbled back, his words like kindle being flamed to life. “Her soft snores always lull me to sleep.”

“And you’re getting old.” Seoyun smirked, which he flatly ignored in favor of his daughter, reaching down to grace her with a light kiss on her small forehead. She loved watching the two of them; Boyoung was just like him, her big eyes and goofy laugh, and you definitely couldn’t refute the mischievousness that oozed from her like a gift from her father.

“She has your sleeping habits for sure,” he remarked with a fond lift to his lips.

“She is a daddy’s girl.”

Chanyeol’s eyes sparked with that same twinkle of mischief and she knew he was inching to make some kind of crude remark, but before it could grace her ears, distant, but loud throes of rejoicing could be heard from outside.

It was midnight, and fireworks were cascading through the sky like shooting stars. They had made it another year together, and a full one year with their daughter.

Seoyun stood from beside them and padding gently to the window, peering out at the light show with wide eyes. It was snowing ever so slightly and the blue lights still hanging from Christmas made everything look bathed in a pure glow of halo. It was beautiful.

She felt Chanyeol’s form brush up behind her, and a small head fell gently onto her shoulder. Boyoung’s deep chocolate eyes, the same as Chanyeol’s, gazed into hers’ with a sleepy yawn and a huff from being woke up. She blinked slowly before drooping back into a peaceful sleep.

“Happy Birthday baby,” Seoyun whispered, eliciting a half-dreaming smile from her.

“And Happy New Year,” Chanyeol added, coming to wrap his arms around her waist.

The three of them stood as fireworks ushered in another year of love and healing and simply being together. She doesn’t think there was any room to hate within the little, but strong family they created.

There wasn’t anything else she could wish for.

thank you for reading

please like and reblog if you enjoyed :)

please remember:

+ do not plagiarize

+ suggestions are open

visit the masterlist

come chat with me

find me on asianfanfics

#smearsyd writes #exowritersnet #exosnet #exo #exo series #chanyeol series #Park Chanyeol #exo drabble #chanyeol fanfic #Chanyeol x OC #exo romance #exo fluff #exo fanfic #completed #mywriting

15 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

First Anniversary (Part 4) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, Remy (only in the fist part)

Summary:

Logan and Patton go on a trip for their first anniversary. It’s mostly fluff (except just a bit in chapter 3).

(It’s part of a series but it literally doesn’t matter except for like 1 joke so if you want to just see them being dumb and in love, you can read this without context.)

Notes: Superhero AU (really doesn’t matter at all), fluff, so much fluff, just a hint of angst in the middle, but overwhelmed by fluff rather quickly, past child neglect/abuse, they’re soft husbands, allusions to sexy times

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Patton felt a little bad that they didn’t get up very early on Logan’s day to make the plans, but they’d gotten back late after the play and stayed up even later than that. So, when he rolled over in bed and it was already 10:30am, he’d promptly rolled back over and gone to sleep. Breakfast ended at 10am anyway.

They managed to force themselves out of bed by noon and grabbed lunch before heading to Logan’s date choice, the local museum.

It was a small museum: just about the local history of the town. Patton imagined, for most people, the museum was a 30, maybe 45, minute venture. Logan was not most people. That was alright with Patton. Even though he had no interest in most of the museum’s contents, he did like watching Logan in museums.

He was always excited when they went to museums, bounding around from place to place and reading every piece of information on the signs. Patton loved to listen as he read what he considered to be the best facts out loud and then added in other related facts he knew or sometimes even gave corrections.

Many people passed them by as Logan went through all the exhibits (and sometimes looped back) thoroughly.

“Logan,” Patton said after a few hours. “The museum is going to close in 15 minutes. If you want to see the top of the bell tower, we need to go now.”

“Oh, is it already that late?”

“It is,” Patton confirmed, trying not to grin at his slightly disappointed expression.

“I’m actually here for another hour to do the books,” the woman at the front desk said. Patton had seen her glancing at Logan with amusement throughout the day. “I don’t mind if the two of you stay up there while I do.”

“Thank you,” Patton said with a smile. “That is very kind of you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Logan echoed.

“It’s not a problem,” she insisted.

Patton thanked her again and then pulled Logan toward the steps that led to the bell tower. There were not quite as many plaques to read up there. There was just one near the bell giving a bit of its history and one on the wall giving another blurb about the town.

Patton watched as he read through those and then sidled up next to him to look out at the town with Patton.

Patton glanced at his watch. The museum had been closed for a few minutes now. Patton leaned his head against Logan’s shoulder.

After a couple of minutes, Patton pulled away to glance at him.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Hmm... quick question. You can say no if you want, but have you ever considered making out with someone at the top of a bell tower.”

Logan double blinked at him. “Is this one of those times where you are asking if I have thought of doing something because you want to do the thing?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Ah,” he replied. “I have not thought about it. Give me a few seconds to think about it, please.”

Patton nodded seriously and watched as he chewed on his lips and his fingers went ‘tap tap’ on the railing in front of them.

He looked back at him after his moment to think. “I have now thought about it and find the idea more than acceptable with the condition that I am making out with you.”

Patton grinned widely. “You say the sweetest things,” he said already pulling him farther into the bell tower.

“It is simply a fact,” Logan said, coming with him easily.

“Oh, and I do love your facts,” Patton said softly before not speaking again for a good while.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 5 Part 6

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #relabeled; refiled #fluff #allusions to sexy times #adriana writes #labeled universe

79 notes · View notes

seokstrivia · 5 years ago

Text

Lovestruck | kth

》 Summary: It was love at first sight, however, what you had imagined was very different from real life. In other words, Kim Taehyung didn’t know you existed.

》 Jock!AU | M.list | word-count; 9k

》 Kim Taehyung x Reader; fluff, soft, pining, mutual pining, slow burn, smut, strangers to lovers au, taehyung is a big soft teddy bear, he’s also a photographer

→ Sun rays & imperfect drawings

The suns rays were growing softer as it gradually disappeared behind tall trees and countless skyscrapers. It was still warm, and there was a smile cast over your lips while you watched Taehyung play football.

He was running across the field, laughing with no care in the world. Sometimes, you wondered what it felt like to be as free as him, to have confidence and laugh at nothing but everything at the same time.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be friends with Kim Taehyung.

He was known for his boxy smile, his cheeky remarks, sense of humour and of course, being talented at football. He was the team captain after all.

Eyes on no one but him, your hand flew swiftly and skilfully across the paper. It wasn’t your first time drawing him, you could draw him with your eyes closed, nevertheless, the drawing had to be perfect.

Even if it did absolutely no justice to the real person.

“I knew I would find you here.”

Youngjae, Choi Youngjae, your best friend. The first to approach you when you moved to his high school, and then, the one who decided to stick with you ever since. He also knew about the not-so-very secret, secret crush you had on the boy with the boxy smile.

“Why don’t you just ask him to model for you?” Questioned Youngjae as he sat beside you. “That way you can add refined detail and get to know him.”

You quirked an eyebrow before shaking your head, “it’s not that easy.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he doesn’t know I exist.” You stated matter-of-factly.

The sky promptly reflected colours of faded pinks, oranges and pale yellows. It cast different hues onto the field, causing Taehyung to appear tanner and sweatier than he already was.

There was a feeling of satisfaction within you, the kind of feeling you felt after having a delicious and very pleasant meal. One that left you feeling sleepy and completely content.

You smiled.

It was when Taehyung swung an arm around his best friend, you knew it was time to leave. It was when he waved the sun goodbye, you knew he was someone special.

Kim Taehyung was rich honey drizzled in warm tea, he was a soft blanket on a cold night. He was that very feeling that made you feel at home, the one feeling which made you feel safe.

There was an affectionate gaze across your features while your mind filled itself with cliché love stories. All starting and ending with the one boy you so desired to get to know, the one boy who caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

If only.

A sigh broke your lips, heart sinking into your stomach while you, carefully, placed your sketchbook into your bag before propping it onto your shoulder, and then standing up.

“Come on,” you urged as you smiled at Youngjae. “Let’s go home.”

The walk home mainly consisted of Youngjae telling you stories about his dog, Coco, and how his flatmate Mark was absolutely smitten for the small little ball of fluff.

A smile adorned your profile when he laughed at his own story because it was just that funny. Because Coco peeing on Mark, and Mark cooing at the said dog after it happened was hilarious to him.

→ Cherry blossoms & new faces

If there was anything Taehyung loved about Spring, it was the cherry blossom trees and how they seemed so effortlessly beautiful.

There was a wide grin on his face while he took countless pictures of his best friends, Jungkook and Jimin. He laughed with them as they executed silly poses and faces, happily being themselves without a care in the world.

It was then Taehyung noticed you by the blossoms, admiring the newly bloomed flowers. The way the wind blew your hair and the way the sun beamed through the branches was art in itself.

He took a photo of you without hesitation, he didn’t know who you were, but he knew he’d seen you somewhere before. Whether it was at school or someplace like this, he wasn’t sure.

“Can we eat now?” Jungkook asked becoming excited at the thought of food. “I’m starving.”

Taehyung nodded his head, his signature boxy smile engraved onto his lips. Sometimes Taehyung wondered how his life would be without his two best friends; one thing he knew for sure was that it would very, very, dull.

Before leaving the park to eat an early dinner, Taehyung turned around to see if you were still there. Unfortunately, you weren’t, but the image he captured of you would be with him forever. Hidden safely in his camera.

Perhaps, he’ll see you again, and when he does, he’ll definitely introduce himself and ask for your name.

→ Water droplets & flower petals

Spring showers, but warm weather. It was expected to happen within this season, but the thunderous rumble the sky performed still caught you by surprise.

Eyes wide over how heavy the rainfall was, and over how unprepared you were for this unpredictable weather. A sigh emerged your parted your lips while you thought of an alternative, how were you going to get home without getting wet?

Option one was obviously waiting it out, maybe sitting in the library, and doing homework, or maybe going to the studio to paint.

Option two was to make a run for it, it was only water, albeit cold and icky, it was still water. Plus, you could always hop in the shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment.

Your lips pursed in thought, maybe you should just prop your hood up and walk home. There was no need to stay behind, not when you had a warm place to get to. So, with a deep exhale and a small smile, you stepped into the rain after propping up your hood.

The rain wasn’t as heavy as before, and the route you always used to get home was very artistic and beautiful. Particularly during spring.

Your heart swelled when the bushes full of bloomed flowers took over each side of the path. They were full of colours, varying from oranges to purples to reds, each flower had its own character dripping with water from the rain.

You were admiring each flower when you heard a faint shutter click from behind you, drawing you out of your reverie, the smile on your lips falling instantly before you turned around.

The first thing you noticed was the camera, the third thing you saw was the flash. Your heart was racing by then, head spinning for the second thing you noticed was the box-like smile.

Kim Taehyung.

There was a big grin on his face when he revealed himself from behind his camera. You were lost for words, mind blank and mouth dry, Taehyung was standing right in front of you.

“Hi,” came his deep voice, his form getting closer with each step he took. “I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.”

I know, you thought to yourself.

His grin widened. “What’s your name?”

Snapping out from your bewildered state, you uttered out your name, stammering somewhere in between and losing your breath quicker than you’d ever anticipated.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he spoke again, your name naturally flowing out of his lips. “I hope you don’t mind that I took your picture. You seemed so at peace I had to capture the moment.”

You smiled whilst shaking your head ‘no’, before saying the words, “I don’t mind.”

He beamed in return, happy to know that you weren’t angry or upset he’d taken a picture of you without your permission. It was when Taehyung pulled down his hood, showing his soft hair while he ran a hand through it, you noticed it stopped raining.

“Where are you headed?”

His voice was so deep yet so soothing, that you found yourself thinking about how you could listen to it forever. Other than that, Taehyung was as ethereal as ever, he was everything you’d ever imagined and more. From head to toe, he was everything you couldn’t have, everything you could only reach for in your dreams.

“I’m going home,” you told him after a few moments of silence.

Taehyungs’ eyes were dark with a shine to them, a glint which showered excitement along with something else, something you couldn’t quite figure out. He grinned big and bright, then reached for the flower petal which had fallen so delicately onto your head from the blossoms up above. His hand felt soft when it swept the palm of your hand for that fleeting second.

The flower petal was damp but soft, lightly littered with tiny droplets of rain.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

There was no room for arguments as he led the way, pretending to know where he was going, acting like your prince in shining armour.

Thereafter, Taehyung enthusiastically waved goodbye when you reached your building, but didn’t leave before uttering the words, “see you soon.”

→ Another drawing & another meeting

Youngjae was languidly chewing on his sandwich, loudly telling you a story at the same time, when Taehyung saw you again.

He took note of the amusement in your eyes, the smile adorned over your features whilst you listened to the boy next to you. As if he was the only specimen left in the world along with you.

Another thing he took note of was the sketchbook resting on your lap. It’s difficult to see what the pages hold, but it had him feeling curious, and wanting to know what secrets the book held.

Other than that, the whole sight in front of him with the genuine smile on your lips and shine in yours was picture-taking worthy.

Unfortunately, Taehyung didn’t have his camera with him since he was on his way back from football practice, he tsk’d in disappointment before deciding to use his phone camera. It wasn’t the same quality, it didn’t hold the same magic as his professional camera, but it would have to do for now.

A click resounded through his ears, a satisfied smile took over his face whilst he admired the picture. One of you laughing as though you and Youngjae were the only two left to exist in the world. As if no one else mattered.

Taehyung wished he could have that with someone, he wished he could laugh and smile just like you did. Taehyung, at that moment, wished he knew you the same way your best friend did.

And so he decided to at least, try.

Fortunately, it didn’t take much convincing, or hesitation in that matter, to approach you. To say ‘hi,’ and ask if he could sit with you because he still needed to eat his lunch.

Taehyung noticed Youngjae wink at you when he sat down, he then noticed a red hue cross your cheeks. Something else he saw was the drawing in your sketchbook, it was one of Mark— a friend in one of his classes— holding a puppy with a big smile etched across his face.

“I’ve never seen Mark smile that big before,” he spoke pointing at the drawing.

Youngjae stopped talking to see what Taehyung was talking about and then smiled while taking the book from your lap, but not before snickering at the panic spanning over your features.

“Y/n actually had to wait for the perfect moment before taking the photo. We had to make sure Mark didn’t notice otherwise we would've gotten into trouble,” Youngjae explained. “Talented isn’t she?”

Taehyung glanced towards you, nodding his head while uttering a, “yeah.”

You felt the heat immediately rush to your cheeks, the only ones who’d ever seen your work was Youngjae, your classmates and your lecturer. Other than that, you preferred to keep quiet about it, still struggling on perfecting what you did.

Even if you knew nothing of such existed.

“Do you wanna flip through?”

Taehyung was about to say yes, as well as, reach for the book. Except, that was when panic struck again and you snatched what belonged to you out of Youngjae’s hands.

“I still have a lot to work on, plus it’s not worth the time,” you lied.

There were drawings you didn’t want him to see, drawings of him in particular. A smirk appeared on your best friend’s face because he knew this, and a confused yet surprised expression on your crushes.

He probably thinks you’re crazy now. You cringed at the thought.

“I’ll show you some other day,” you told him, eyes elsewhere. “Maybe.”

Taehyung beamed in utter happiness and agreed to wait for when you were ready to share your artwork. A sigh of relief, you didn’t know you were holding in, departed your lips when Taehyung mentioned something about another class and final lecture.

“That was magical,” Youngjae teased when Taehyung left.

You scowled in return.

→ Here, there and everywhere

The library was full of students trying their best to study, to do homework, and to focus. They all appeared exhausted, stricken with tired expressions and quiet sighs.

You proceeded towards the back of the library, locating the art books that were probably collecting dust since nobody ever took them out. Apart from you. Which is why it was strange to see someone staring at a book about Vincent Van Gogh.

It was when you stood beside them, when you glimpsed towards their direction, you found out who it was. Surprise took over your features, a red hue took over your cheeks when you made eye contact. Your heart burst into a million pieces.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” He beamed fairly quietly.

The smile on his face was captivating as always. His hair in messy soft waves, long and dark, just hiding his eyebrows.

“Hello,” you whispered with a smile of your own. “I didn’t know you were interested in Van Gogh.”

Taehyung nodded his head, showing you the book he’d chosen out of the others.

“He’s one of my favourite artists.”

You licked your lips, listening to Taehyung ramble about his favourite piece of artwork to how said artist inspired him to start painting. He was very enthusiastic about it all, and you envied the way he was in love with art, drawing and painting. Longing to once again feel what he felt now.

“How about you?” He questioned.

Your lips pursed in thought, “my major is art, so... I guess because it’s something I need to do every day, it just feels more like a chore now.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed at your answer, he knew, from what he saw a few days ago, you were very talented in what you did. However, he didn’t know how to feel when he learnt that you didn’t enjoy it as much.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I’m sorry too,” you returned, staring deeply into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shook his head, letting you know that you’d done absolutely nothing wrong. After picking the books you needed, both of you headed towards the librarian to check out what you’d both chosen.

Taehyung smiled at you once more, his eyes filled with a soft gaze, “maybe we can draw together sometime.”

“Maybe we can.”

It was more of a reply to yourself since he was gone before you could even blink in response.

➴➶➴➶ The cafe ➴➶➴➶

The strong scent of coffee beans swelled in the air around you, chatter reverberated throughout the cafe, and your eyes examined the menu.

The thought of trying something new seemed to peak interest. Considering you always bought the same thing when you came here. It was beginning to get embarrassing since every barista that worked here knew your order.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with that, it was just a bit strange. They probably thought you were boring, drinking the same drink every day when they had a huge variety to choose from.

A sigh escaped your lips just before you felt someone tap your shoulder. Confused, because you weren’t meeting anyone, you turned around only to come face to face with Kim Taehyung.

Was it fate or a mere coincidence?

“Hi!” He cheered, eyes bright and smile big.

“Hello,” you chuckled in return.

“What are you getting?”

Another sigh left your lips at his question, you turned to stare at the menu again. Trying to pick a new drink was quite difficult considering you weren’t too keen on trying anything new. Taehyung seemed to pick up on your struggle as he pointed towards a photo of a red drink. The picture made the beverage appear tempting, and very refreshing.

“Try the strawberry iced-tea,” he suggested, face close to yours. “It’s my favourite.”

You aimed to look at him but were met with his right cheek instead of his eyes. When did he get this close to you?

“How about we swap drinks?” He proposed with a quirked eyebrow.

“I guess we could,” you answered after careful consideration. “My drink isn’t really all that exciting, it’s just an iced americano.”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, not really caring; mainly because it was just a drink. You observed him approach the counter, ordering his strawberry iced-tea, and then telling you he was going to find a table for two while you ordered.

The thought of spending the rest of the day with Taehyung in a cafe had your mind reeling, and heart racing. Never once did you think that this would ever happen in real life, merely three weeks ago, the said boy didn’t even know you existed.

You swallowed hard before proceeding to order your drink, followed by joining Taehyung at the table he chose next to the window.

➴➶➴➶ The record store ➴➶➴➶

After long and careful consideration, you decided that you would not buy a vinyl today. Mainly because, you had too many sitting at home next to your record player, none of them had been touched in a long time since you’d been busy with school.

However, that didn’t mean you had to leave immediately and go home, you could still browse and search for a vinyl you absolutely needed in your life.

“Y/n, can we go? I’m bored.”

Youngjae was trailing behind you like a lost pup, and you knew that dragging him along with you was a bad idea. Especially since you were going to be here for quite a while, there was a lot of records to go through.

So, in the end, you decided to give him the keys to your flat and told him to order some takeout. He didn’t question you any further, grasped the keys out of your hand and dashed out the door without glancing back.

A chuckle parted your lips, he was gone as quick as a pimple could appear.

Now that there were no distractions or worries, you could happily proceed to browse through each pile. The shop owner observed you with a small smile before carrying on with her own work.

The bell of the door went off again, indicating that someone had just entered. You turned to see who it could be, immediately feeling your heartbeat pick up its pace, it definitely had to be fate.

This was your third time running into Taehyung.

He spotted you from where he was standing and cheerfully waved. The only difference this time was that he wasn’t alone, it also seemed as though it was his first time in the store. It didn't seem to be a favourite place to visit from the way he trailed behind Jimin and Jungkook. All with a pout.

You licked your lips as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Taehyung wasn’t really paying attention to what his friends were saying, he was too busy watching you after he noticed you were here too.

Curiosity filled his mind, eager to know who your favourite artists were to what your favourite song was. There was a lot Taehyung wanted to know about you, he just wasn’t sure if you’d spend the entire day with him. He also wasn’t sure if you would let him ask you an unlimited amount of questions.

“Tae,” you chucked gaining his lost attention when you approached him. “Your friends are about to leave without you.”

The said boy blinked a few times, heart struck by the smile across your lips. The way your eyes shined under the dim lighting was picture worthy, it was a shame he didn’t have his camera with him.

He sighed. And then grinned.

“It’s fate we keep meeting like this, isn’t it?” He ushered out before saying goodbye and following his friends out of the store.

You watched him scramble after them, yelling for them to slow down. There was a blank expression on your face, thoughts filled by the word ‘fate.’

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that boy is falling in love with you.”

The store owner caught your attention and winked in turn before slipping into the back. That was your cue to leave, not because of what she said, no. Never. It was because Youngjae was waiting for you at home with food.

Yeah, that was it.

→ Peace & Quiet

Days go by, some filled with rain storms others with the sun shining high and radiant. Your minds filled with a list of things you have to do to complete your class. To pass your year.

And you’re stressed.

The drawing you’re doing right now, is one of Youngjae crying. The moment was captured during a sad movie, perfect for your project on human emotions.

Except, you’re lacking the motivation to finish your project, more so, lacking the inspiration to start the next drawing. Everyone else in your class seemed to be doing just fine, it was just you who couldn’t bring yourself to finish this stupid project.

Out of frustration, you yanked your earbuds out of your ears, the music now a faint noise as you tossed them aside. A groan escapes your lungs, a noise of irritation which gained the attention of another who’s walking by.

“Y/n, right?” They greeted as they approach you.

It was a voice you weren’t too familiar with, but one you’d heard before nonetheless. His name was Jungkook, you think, trying hard to remember if Jimin was the shorter one.

Anyway, there’s a smile on his face, one with bunny-like teeth. Bright and carefree. It causes you to smile, somewhat like a contagious laugh would cause you to, well, laugh.

“Hi, Jungkook? Is it?” You questioned.

The said boy nods his head before taking a seat next to you, he does his nosey and glances at your sketchbook. And then points towards your phone.

Curiosity spikes.

“What are you listening to?”

Jungkook was surprisingly comfortable to be around, like a younger brother. Or an old friend, you decided that it felt quite nice.

You picked up one of the buds and handed it to the boy before placing the other in your own ear. Music filled both your ears, causing smiles to widen and heads to bop, Jungkook seemed to like what you were listening to.

“You’ve got a good taste in music,” he tells you.

A ‘thank you’ leaves your lips, feeling somewhat proud of yourself.

Silence shortly befalls, and a few seconds go by of just listening to music, then Jungkook shows interest when you pick up your sketchbook and begin altering your drawing. He’d seen Taehyung draw and paint, but his best friend was nowhere near as talented as you.

“Can you draw me when you have the time?” He asked.

Your eyes met his, no one had asked you to draw them before. Not even Youngjae had asked you, not that you expected him to.

“I guess, if you want me to,” you answered with a blank face. “I’m not that good though.”

“Are you kidding me?” He argued, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. “You’re amazing!”

Jungkook was out of breath, and somewhat frustrated that you didn’t think you were good at what you did.

“Thanks, I guess,” you smiled softly. “I think I needed to hear that.”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he didn’t question it. And it made you laugh, mainly because no one had reacted this way over your work before. Although it felt unusual, it was nice too.

Jungkook was different, a good kind of different. He was comfortable to be with, even if this was the first time you’d ever spoken to him, and he helped you take your mind off all the stress. Without even knowing.

“I think I understand why Tae likes you so much,” he told you. “And why he talks about you all the time.”

You were taken aback by the sudden confession, but didn’t say anything or question him further. Of course, you wanted to know what he meant, wanted to know what Taehyung said about you, but couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Fortunately, it was time for him to go. However, he was leaving you with a mind full of questions, what-ifs and a wild imagination. Geez.

→ Vanilla tears & sad smiles

There were two things you always carried with you, one was your class sketchbook, and the other was your own personal sketchbook—a journal. The one that was nowhere to be seen, and you clearly remember putting it in your bag like you always did.

A shaky sigh left your lips, no matter how many times you emptied your bag, the journal wasn’t there. You were lucky that it wasn’t your class sketchbook because that one was important, even if your personal was full of drawings and writings you didn’t want anyone to see.

Well, one person in particular.

Youngjae didn’t seem to understand why it was such a big deal, waving it off with his hand while telling you to just buy a new one. It made you angry because he was being inconsiderate, you argued back and told him to go away if he wasn’t going to help.

He left but not without scoffing and calling you a drama queen.

When he was gone after slamming the door behind him, you sat back down in your seat and let the tears roll down your cheeks. Sure it wasn’t anything big to cry over, and maybe you were being dramatic, but it had some of your best work.

Work you were actually proud of.

However... it also held a written confession to Taehyung, a confession you didn’t want anyone to see or read. Not even Taehyung himself. What were you going to do now? You don’t even know when you lost it.

Taehyung stepped into the lecture hall, remembering he’d forgotten his hoodie all while humming a tune to himself. It was when you dropped your bottle of water he realised he wasn’t alone. A smile adorned his face when he saw that it was you, someone, he was always more than happy to run in to.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, gaining your attention. “What are you still doing here?”

Luckily, you’d dried your tears way before he, or anyone in that matter, entered the hall. That would’ve been embarrassing, how would you have explained why you were crying?

“I lost my journal, it had a lot of drawings in it,” you sighed. “And I have no idea where it is.”

Taehyungs smile softened, he could hear the faint sadness in your voice and it broke his heart a little. “Do you want me to help you look for it?”

It was a kind offer, but you were too tired to even think about where you’d been. About where you could have left your book, so you shook your head, ‘no.’

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m just going to go home. Thank you though.”

The smile on your face was genuine but sad, and he could tell how upset you were. Taehyung walked you out of the building, waving bye, but not before cheering you up a little and making your heart flip in your chest.

That night, after football practice, Taehyung found a book on one of the benches. He flipped to a page he probably wasn’t supposed to see, and then slammed it shut.

→ Secret glances & fuzzy feelings

Three days went by, and there was no sign of your book anywhere. However, Youngjae had apologised for being mean and offered to help look for it. So, that was good.

“It’s gone forever, isn’t it?” You sighed. “Someone’s probably found it and binned it or something.”

“Don’t think like that, did you try lost and found?”

You nodded your head, then told him that nothing had been handed in for three months now. It was no use, you would just need to give up and start on a new sketchbook.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was engulfing himself in so many thoughts, and so many feelings. He didn’t have it in him to give you your sketchbook back. Not yet at least.

He was pacing the locker room, the sketchbook was burning a hole in his bag, and Jimin was watching the whole ordeal, in nothing but, utter amusement. Then there was Jungkook who was nowhere to be seen, according to Yoongi he was on the hunt for banana-milk.

“Just give her back the book and pretend you didn’t see anything, you nosey little shit,” Jimin teased, receiving a groan from his best friend in return.

Taehyung dropped onto the bench across from his, much shorter, friend and scowled at the smirk on his face. How dare he? Taehyung thought to himself before running a hand through his hair.

“Or don’t be a dick and confess to her,” Jimin added, but this time with a much more significant smirk.

There was nothing in his hand to throw at his friend, so Taehyung opted on crossing his arms and huffing in over-exaggerated exasperation. The scene only made Jimin laugh because his friend was being completely absurd.

It didn't help that he felt guilty for flipping through your sketchbook, it also didn't help that he wanted to keep looking, to closely inspect each page, each drawing. Taehyung was in too deep to let go of it now.

Amidst sheer determination, he went out to search for you. Only to find you with a pout and disappointed expression, presumably because you hadn't found your book yet. Because he had it and desired to keep it for as long as he could.

Was it wrong of him to do that? Probably.

“Y/n,” he called with a slight smile. “The last football match of the term is tonight, woh—would you like to come and watch?”

An effortless smile decorated your features, and you found yourself nodding your head, “I would love to,” you replied.

A sigh of relief left his lips, causing a laugh to part your own.

“See you tonight then.”

You nodded once more, sad that he left as quick as he appeared. However, the sadness didn't last long, mainly because you were going to see him later that day. On the football field, cheering him on with a big smile on your face.

“He really just came out of nowhere, didn't he?” Youngjae sputtered in excitement.

That evening, the match finished as well as it could have, Taehyung scored the winning goal and cheers interrupted instantly. Everyone one around you stood up, applauding and screaming as they watched the team members crowd together to celebrate.

You laughed when you noticed Taehyung searching for you in the crowd, it would be mean to keep hiding from him, so you advanced down the steps, and towards the field. There was a huge grin on his face when he spotted you, immediately running towards you.

The first thing he did was take you into his arms and you spin you around. It didn't take long for your heart to begin pounding rapidly, causing an immense race of butterflies to rush through your stomach.

Taehyung was so close, he didn't let go when he finished spinning; as if he was afraid you would vanish into thin air. You had no idea what was going through his mind, no idea what he thought of you and how he felt around you. But you couldn't bring yourself to complain about it, not when he was grinning at you as if there was no one else around.

“Well done, you!” You beamed, finally breaking the silence.

This time, for the first time, a blush rose to Taehyungs cheeks, “thank you.” He smiled shyly, thumbs tracing circles on your lower back.

It was comforting.

And then when Yoongi approached you two, Taehyung let go. Embarrassed he’d held onto you longer than required, although, he wished he could have held you for a little bit more.

“Good to see you here, y/n,” Yoongi greeted, playfully nudging your arm. “I was beginning to think you didn't have a social life.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” you mocked with a laugh, he was always teasing you one way or another.

Taehyung stood silently and watched on with his jaw hanging open, he found it hard to believe that his teammate had more friends than just Namjoon and Hoseok. He felt so proud, but also really jealous, because since when were you and Yoongi friends?

Thankfully Namjoon came over and dragged him away because Hoseok wanted to take pictures or something. Leaving the two of you alone once again, Taehyung smiled.

“So, how do you know Yoongi?” He questioned.

You turned to look at Taehyung, a wide grin on your face, “we worked on a project together for psychology.”

Taehyung nodded.

“We’re not close enough to hang out, but he is tolerable to talk to now and then, albeit the teasing and jokes,” you explained.

“Ah,” he nodded once more.

Soon, people around you gradually started leaving, friends meeting friends for a later dinner, and others getting ready to go partying— to celebrate. It made you wonder what Taehyung was going to do while you watched Yoongi begrudgingly take what Hoseok called, ‘one last picture.’

“So...” Taehyung spoke up again, observing you from where he stood. “ There’s an after-party. Do you want to, maybe, go with me?”

The idea of going to a party with your crush seemed like fun, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to get drunk with him. What if you accidentally confessed all your hidden feelings? And since you were just beginning to get comfortable around him, you didn't want to ruin anything.

Or scare him away for that matter.

Taehyung seemed to have noticed the hesitation, he cleared his throat, and awkwardly began rubbing the back of his neck, “it's ok, you don’t have to.”

There was a smile on his precious face, and you sighed.

“I’m sorry, I already made plans with Youngjae.”

Witnessing his smile drop was definitely not worth the lie, your heart ached to tell him that you were suddenly free, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe, another time, maybe.

“Don’t worry about it,” he stated. “But, I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded while he left and Youngjae approached.

There was a knowing look on your best friends face, he clicked his tongue before swinging an arm around your shoulder. Guiding you off the field, Youngjae said something regarding a movie night, but you were too occupied thinking about the sad expression on Taehyung’s face.

That night after countless movies, after you finally got into bed, you went on Instagram and noticed Taehyung’s post. He had an arm around a girl, someone you didn't recognise, pulled into his chest with a huge grin on face.

Your heart shouldn't have hurt the way it did, especially since he was just a friend.

→ Stupid arguments & awkward confessions

The studio was empty just the way you liked it, the windows were open providing cool air to seep through into the room. It felt especially nice today since it was particularly warm outside.

You had music playing in the background, a paintbrush in one hand, and a canvas in front of you. The drawing you’d done of Taehyung, copied from a photograph—an image you managed to capture of him celebrating—looked dull without any colour.

But you were so afraid to touch paint to canvas, what if the drawing got ruined? You didn't have the time to start all over again, this was your last painting for your project, and you couldn't even bring yourself to finish it.

Pathetic.

Taehyung heard you sigh fairly loudly when he stepped into the studio. He felt nervous, not sure what say or how to tell you that he found your sketchbook, and accidentally committed every single page to memory.

He wasn’t sure what to say at all so he cleared his throat and proceeded to step further into the studio.

When you twisted around, there was a sort of scowl on your face, and it didn't disappear when you made eye contact with Taehyung. Not even when he smiled the smile you’d grown to adore so much.

“Can I help you?” You questioned, trying not to think about the post from last night.

It was kind of hard not to.

“I—I have your sketchbook,” he said taken aback by your sudden change of demeanour. “I’ve had it for a while now...”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He gulped.

“Wait, you’ve had it all this time and you didn't bother to return it? Did you open it?”

He didn't answer, but that was enough for you.

“Did you see?” You sighed.

Taehyung avoided eye contact, and it was annoying you that he wasn’t saying anything.

“Taehyung,” you disputed. He winced. “Did you see the letter?”

“Ye-yeah, I did.”

Silence promptly took over, albeit the soft melody playing on your phone. The whole situation; him finding your book, keeping it to himself, flipping through the pages, reading your letter—it all left you speechless and upset.

Taehyung took a step forward the sketchbook still in his hands, “I didn't want to look and I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself and—And, I don't regret it. I don't regret reading your letter, y/n.”

You let your head fall, eyes staring at the paint-covered floor.

“Asshole.”

It was a mutter more to yourself, but he still heard you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“Dick.”

Taehyung sighed at your argument if that's really what he could call it.

“I like you too,” he eventually told.

You raised your head to make eye contact to see if he meant it, and he did. The genuine gaze in his eyes said so, but you couldn't stop thinking about the girl he was with last night.

“Don’t lie,” you argued.

“Y/n, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are! Because if you liked me you wouldn't have...” You trailed off, fiddling with your fingers, you dropped eye contact.

This was ridiculous, the boy you liked just confessed and you were throwing a fit over one picture. What was there to be jealous of? One; he wasn’t your boyfriend. Two; you were overthinking everything that could've happened at the party.

And it was ridiculous.

“Sorry,” you grumbled sheepishly after a few moments of stillness. “I overreacted.”

Taehyung shook his head, sadness evident in his eyes. He set your book aside, mind focusing on nothing but you, and how upset you were that he didn't return it straight away like he should have done.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he reached for your hand, interlocking it with his. “And I honestly am.”

His actions and genuine words set your heart alight. You chewed on your bottom lip, tightening your grip on his hand. Taehyung was a real sweetheart and here you were calling him an asshole.

So, in the end, you wordlessly forgave him, you kissed his cheek and gently smiled to let him know that it was okay. Taehyung blushed.

“So, I was wondering... Would you like to go on a date with me? I’ll make up for being nosey.”

A chuckle parted your lips and you nodded your head, “I thought you would never ask.”

Taehyung shyly squeezed your hand before letting go, feeling the happiest he’d ever felt in a while. But then he remembered that he had class, before leaving, however, he told you he’d meet you later and text you details about the first date.

You were about to wave goodbye when he spoke up again, motioning to something behind you with a smug smile.

“Is that me?” He teased. Twisting around, you cringed.

Busted.

→ Moods & attitudes ↳ 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒

There was an immense swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and you swear, you could feel them in your throat. You’d been on so many first dates before, but none that made you feel like this.

Like you were about to combust into a million tiny pieces.

Taehyung appeared to be doing better than you, telling you countless stories, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as if it was nothing, holding your hand without a second thought, and, and gazing deeply into your eyes with so much affection.

You were definitely going to combust.

The picnic he organised for the date was so adorable, there was a small selection of cakes, two cans of beers and different fruits cubed into bite-size pieces. The thought and effort he put into this were so much more than you could ever imagine it to be, and it had you falling harder and deeper.

“I hope you don't mind that it’s beer,” Taehyung chuckled. “That’s all I had at home.”

“It’s perfect, Tae.”

He beamed in turn, giving you a can before letting you select what you desired to eat. It all seemed to be going well, you were happy, Taehyung was happy and that was all that mattered.

Until Taehyung pointed at the dark grey clouds.

“It might rain,” it came out stifled since he’d stuffed a spoonful of chocolate cake into his mouth.

You chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand, “Tae! Don’t talk with your mouthful.”

He shrugged his shoulders in turn, a small smile on his lips. It felt nice to joke around with you, more so, it felt natural to be around you—almost as if you’d been dating for years and years.

It felt right. He was lovestruck.

The two of you continued to playfully bicker and eat, simply enjoying the others company when you felt a single drop of rain swiftly turn into a shower of drops. A scream parted your lips—turning into a laugh while you and Taehyung both did your best to tidy everything up.

“My place is just around the corner,” He mentioned. “We can go there.”

There was no time to panic, youse were both almost soaked right through, but you couldn't help it. What if something were to happen? Not that you were complaining... but what if?

Taehyung wasn’t joking when he said his flat was right around the corner, it took no less than ten minutes to run to his. To escape the rain and bask in the warmth, there were smiles on both your faces, small chuckles littering the room as you gazed at the other.

“That was fun,” you breathed out, earning a nod in return.

Taehyung cleared his throat before locking his door, eyes now focusing anywhere and everywhere but you.

“Sit down,” he urged after catching his breath. “I’ll...er... get you some dry clothes to change into.”

Okay, so maybe wearing a white dress on your first date wasn’t a good idea, but to be fair, you didn't know it was going to rain, and you didn't think you would get soaked right through to your skin. And to be honest, you didn't think your bra would show through the wet fabric.

So, all in all, it wasn’t your fault that Taehyung couldn't breathe properly or make eye contact. Like... at all.

But, perhaps, it wasn’t such a bad thing.

It didn’t take Taehyung long to come back with one of his t-shirts and a pair of grey sweats. There was a blush reclining high on his cheeks, and again his eyes were focusing anywhere and everywhere but you. Almost as if he was embarrassed.

“Here,” he mumbled shyly, handing you the clothes. “You can get changed in my room.”

You quietly thanked him before proceeding towards his room, with his clothes, in his flat. There was a lot going through your mind when you got dressed, eyes scanning the room, from poster to poster, and shelf to shelf.

It all brought a smile to your face.

Taehyung was sitting on the couch, a movie ready to play on the tv when you stepped out of his room. He’d taken the opportunity to change out of his own wet clothes in the bathroom while you were away.

“Sit,” he grinned finally looking at you. “I chose Shrek! I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled in return, shaking your head as you sat down next to him, “I’m happy to watch whatever you want to.”

Taehyung beamed in excitement, not hesitating to draw you into his chest and cuddle just as he pressed play to start the movie. It didn’t take long to fall into a rhythm of paced breathing and slow blinking. He played with your hair, fingers twirling a single strand every now and then. While you lightly traced various patterns on his arm.

Taehyung really liked having you in his hold, you were warm and he was happy, and there was nothing else in the world he would rather be doing. Because, at that moment, he was certain you were the missing piece in his life.

At that point in time, without so much as a second thought, he kissed your head. leaving a lingering feeling in return, there was a smile on his lips when he moved back. Acting as if nothing happened.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

He didn’t look at you.

But, it made you smile because the shyness was evident, it was there and you could see it through his own smile and cherry-like cheeks. So, to repay the favour— to show you felt whatever emotion he was feeling too, you kissed his cheek.

Taehyung giggled before finally making eye contact with you, “what was that for?”

Melting into his gaze, melting in his hold and falling even deeper than you already were, you cupped his cheek and left a soft peck on his lips.

Taehyung didn’t let you move away as he chased after your lips. Claiming them as his, he drew you into his chest, urging you to straddle him— to deepen the kiss. His lips were delicate and tasted like strawberries infused with mint.

It didn’t take long for his hands to progress down your sides and rest on your waist, his movements were gradual and cautious. As if he was testing the waters to see how far he could go with you.

That was when you broke the kiss, a hand passing through his hair before reclining down his chest. Taehyung licked his lips, eyes observing your hand before gazing into your own.

“You’re beautiful,” he remarked confidently yet shyly. “I got lucky.”

A soft hushed giggle withdrew from your lips, “If anyone got lucky, it was me,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Taehyung used his right hand to draw you in for another kiss, he was craving your touch as if you weren’t sitting on him. This time he kissed you with desire, edging away from the shyness, from the hesitation and becoming confident and more relaxed.

You moaned against his lips when he softly bit your bottom lip, sucking on it before letting go. There was a new darkness in his eyes, and a new feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“How far do you want to go?” He asked in a particular tone, his eyes searching for answers in yours.

“As far as you’ll take me.”

And that was all it took for Taehyung to lift you by your thighs and proceed towards his room.

It got heated quicker than you predicted— than you ever imagined possible, but there weren’t any complaints parting your lips, there were moans and whines followed by Taehyungs name instead.

You were sweaty and out of breath, but high in the clouds. Lingering kisses were pressed on your heated skin, cries broke your lips and escaped into the room. Your mind was hazy with skin on skin.

A gasp fled your lips when you felt Taehyung’s right-hand travel down to your core, he was slow and sensual with his movements, more so he was deliberately taking his time so he could watch your reactions and listen to your moans while he teased your clit before sliding a finger in and then another. With certainty in his eyes, Taehyung curved his fingers that were inside causing you to squirm under his grip.

When you felt soft and wet lips your fingers twist on his soft hair, tugging at the base whilst throwing your head back, the feeling of his tongue felt foreign but so good. There was no way you could’ve helped the plaint that escaped your lips.

There was a self-satisfied grin on his face, pleased that it was him, of all people, that was making you feel this good. You were so close to your first release, and he could tell— he could tell from the way you squirmed and breathed heavier than before.

“That’s it, princess,” Taehyung murmurs, his thumb massaging the swollen bundle, bringing you closer and closer. “Let go.”

And you do, twisting under his grip, you loudly cry out his name.

“Fuck,” he mutters, taking you in. “You’re amazing, baby.”

He complimented you as hands crept up your heated body, taking one of your breasts into his soft grip, squeezing, thumb brushing the sensitive skin. His dark eyes notice the way your head is thrown back, Taehyung groans lowly at the pleasure he’s causing you.

“Are you ready for me now?”

You nodded your head, giving him permission to do as he pleased at that moment. He was careful not to hurt you as he aligned himself and slowly entered until he bottomed out.

Taehyung began gently thrusting into you with ease, his grunts gradually filled the quiet room, merging with your moans. He was confident in what he was doing, and while he felt his release building up, he marked your collar bones, biting the soft skin just as his thrusts became sloppier, he was close, almost.

“Fuck,” you cried out when you felt his thumb on your clit. “Tae, I’m—”

“I know,” he breathed out. “Me too, baby.”

Taehyung sped up for the last few thrusts before pulling out and coming over your stomach, his thumb was still working on your clit as his free-hand elevated his orgasm.

You released one last cry as you came again from his fingers, even though you were out of breath and tired, you felt high in the clouds and content. At the same time as trying to catch your breath, you reached for Taehyung and pulled him down to lie next to you, craving his arms around you.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m here.”

The both of you fall asleep holding the other, covers thrown aside, legs tangled accompanied by soft breathing. He was warm and you were happy, and at that moment, that was all you needed.

→ Lovestruck

When you woke up, you were hidden beneath white sheets and a beige blanket. Taehyung must’ve cleaned up after you’d fallen asleep, you thought. Immediately blushing at the thought of the night before.

There were arms bound around you and a head buried in the crook of your neck. You were lying on your back with almost half of Taehyung’s body on top of you. It brought a smile to your face though, having someone this close felt nice. Especially, someone, you would be able to call yours and love unconditionally.

“Don’t you think it’s too early to be awake?”

Taehyung’s question caught you off guard, you were so sure he was asleep. Yet, here he was muttering a question into your neck and then kissing the heated skin before raising his head to gaze at you.

His messy hair and puffy face caused your smile to grow even bigger. He was so cute. You gushed.

“How did you know I was awake?” You asked.

Taehyung playfully raised an eyebrow as if the answer was so obvious. And apparently, it was.

“I felt your heartbeat get faster,” he told you, eyes gazing deeply into yours. “What were you thinking about?”

You licked your lips, hand moving his fringe to the side, “you.”

Taehyung blushed at your response, clearly not expecting you say that. But it made his heart race nonetheless, he was a goner. All for you.

“I—I, y/n, I know it hasn’t been too long… but, but will you be my girlfriend?”

A chuckle parted your lips over how shy he was, it was sweet though. Really sweet.

“I would love to be yours,” you responded. “But I thought I already was after what happened last night— and so soon as well.”

Taehyung flushed even harder but beamed at your response. He began littering kisses over your exposed skin before meeting your lips last with a long-lasting passionate kiss which had you feeling absolutely breathless, yet craving for more.

That was when Taehyung knew he was undeniably lovestruck.

But so were you.

➴➶➴➶ ➴➶➴➶

→ A/N thank you for reading, I’d also like to thank @gukgalore and @kunsdear for the endless support! ←

#bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut #bts au #bts reactions #kim taehyung #kim taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung smut #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop reactions #taehyung #v #lovestruck

2K notes · View notes

thecassadilla · 4 years ago

Text

Pining for the Fjords

Word Count: 5,736/AO3 Link

Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Kristoff Bjorgman has the ability to bring the dead back to life with the touch of a finger - and only a few rules. After joining forces with a private detective, Kristoff finds himself in a difficult position when he brings his childhood sweetheart, Anna, back from the dead.

The only condition is that they can never touch each other, or else Anna will die, again - but this time, it will be permanent.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Despite feeling quite burned out, I somehow managed to write another fic (I have no self-control). This is a Pushing Daisies!AU. If you haven’t watched the show, I highly recommend it - and if you live in the United States (and possibly elsewhere, but I don’t know for sure), it’s free on cwseed! I can provide a link for anyone who is interested! Pushing Daisies is one of my favorite shows - it’s morbid, grotesque, and mysterious, but also sickly sweet and fairytale-esque. And the visuals and aesthetics are stunning. It’s also from 2007, which is where I’m convinced I left my brain. This fic draws heavily from the source material, but you don’t have to be familiar with it to understand this fic. Will this be continued? I have no idea. I don’t make decisions lol. I hope you enjoy it!

(As a disclaimer/trigger warning, death is spoken about *a lot* in this fic and there is a temporary major character death. If the thought of any of that makes you uncomfortable, I would advise you not to read this fic.)

Pining for the Fjords - a euphemism for death. “Used to describe a dead person or animal as a way of convincing somebody that the corpse is not, in fact, dead,” Urban Dictionary.

Kristoff Bjorgman had a gift. It wasn’t a gift that was nicely packaged with a bow on top, and was rather quite morbid - he could touch someone who had died and bring them back to life. As simple as it sounded, there were terms and conditions that went along with this gift. The first was that he could bring the deceased back to life for one minute only, or someone else would die as a consequence. An eye for an eye, so to speak. The second was that, if he allowed the person he touched to remain alive, he could never touch them again. Or else they would die, again - but this time it would be forever.

He learned about this arrangement the hard way; as a young child, he hadn’t been exposed to death. At the age of ten, while running in a field with his beloved dog, he would learn about death, and subsequently, his gift, the hard way. For, his dog, Sven, would run into the middle of the street and be struck by a semi-truck before his very own eyes.

He would race over to the side of his now-deceased dog, and gently rest a hand on the side of his limp body, only for the dog to become reanimated and jump off the ground. In that moment, he was unaware of the consequences of bringing Sven back to life - not too far away, a squirrel would die in place of Sven.

He returned home that afternoon, with Sven in tow, happily trotting beside him. Across the street from his home lived a pair of sisters; he would often play with the younger of the two, a girl named Anna. In the grand scheme of things, his gift seemed insignificant, for he had fallen in love with Anna. She, herself, was a gift to Kristoff - curious, imaginative, fun, and fearless - and they spent many hours enjoying each other’s company.

As he watched her play with her father on her family’s lawn from his kitchen window, tragedy would strike for the second time that day. His mother, who had a knack for baking pies, would collapse on the kitchen floor, mere inches from him. Suddenly, his newfound gift would once again prove itself useful. He would slowly approach her body and crouch down next to it, hesitantly touching his index finger to his arm. Immediately, she would gasp for air and rise off the ground, completely unaware of what had happened.

Unfortunately, the clock continued to tick away, and once sixty seconds had passed, the first caveat of Kristoff’s gift would make itself known. He watched in silent horror as Anna’s father collapsed on the grass across the street, in front of his helpless friend. An eye for an eye; one life in exchange for another.

The second caveat of Kristoff’s gift would make itself known later that evening; his mother tucked him into bed, and upon placing a goodnight kiss to his forehead, would fall to the floor once again. Only this time, she could not be brought back. And thus he learned that he could never touch a resurrected life, or they would die permanently. It meant he could never pet Sven again. It meant that his mother and Anna’s father became unwitting, and unfortunate, consequences of his gift.

At their respective parent’s funerals, happening just mere feet from each other, Kristoff and Anna, overcome with grief and puppy love, would have their first and only kiss.

Immediately following his mother’s funeral, officials from the state would collect Kristoff and take him away from his life, while Anna would remain in the house across the street from his, with her mother and sister. Kristoff would avoid any and all social attachments, fearing what he’d do if someone else he loved died.

Little did he know, fifteen years later, his life would be turned upside down yet again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the age of twenty-five, Kristoff would find himself in the midst of an unusual business arrangement. Now the owner of a run-down, failing musical instrument shop, and lonely as ever, a chance encounter with a private detective would change his life once again.

Though Kristoff managed to keep his deep secret to himself for nearly a decade and a half, luck would find him in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the alley behind his shop, as he was throwing out garbage, a man would practically fall from the sky - technically, from the roof of the building - and hit his head on the edge of the dumpster. As luck would have it, the dead man would brush against Kristoff and return to life. Unfortunately for the now undead man, he wouldn’t get to live much longer, as Kristoff was constantly reminded of the two caveats to his gift. Unwilling to have a random person in proximity die, with another simple touch the undead man was once again dead. Unfortunately for Kristoff, there was another man on the roof who witnessed the entire thing - Private Detective Olaf Olson.

“So, how long have you been a necromancer?” The detective asked, once they reconvened inside Kristoff’s empty shop.

Kristoff anxiously rubbed the palms of his hands along the sides of his pants and shook his head. “I’m not a necromancer - at least, I don’t think I am. Is that what I am? Oh god.”

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been able to raise the dead?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, my whole life?”

“And nobody ever thought to have you tested? Or send you off to the circus?”

“Nobody else knows - except you. And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Mhmm,” Olaf agreed, sucking in his lower lip and giving Kristoff a scrutinizing glare. He motioned around the shop. “How’s business around here, boss?”

“Um, it’s fine,” he answered, nervously.

“Doesn’t seem to be too busy.”

“I mean, it’s not but...it’s fine.”

Olaf raised a hand to his face. “Well, the good news is that I have a business proposal for you.”

Kristoff’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Yeah?”

“You see, everyday in this city, dead people turn up. Sometimes, these people are murdered without an idea as to who killed them. And when this happens, there’s usually a reward for figuring out who the killer is - a big reward. I get us in to see the body, you take advantage of your party trick, and we split the reward fifty-fifty.”

And so, they did. It was easy, albeit dirty, money. The arrangement itself was rather simple; Olaf was made aware of the terms and conditions, and normally the “transactions” went smoothly. The two men were awarded privacy in the morgue, so long as the coroner was paid off, and Kristoff would set his watch for sixty seconds, ask the deceased who killed them, and then promptly return them to being dead. For a few months, it worked really well, and Kristoff was able to keep his struggling business afloat. He was able to justify it all because it brought justice to the bad people of the world. Until the winter morning that everything got flipped on its head.

It was a quiet day in January, and Kristoff was sitting in his apartment, which was situated above his shop. The television was on in the background as he lounged on the couch with a bowl of cereal, his dog Sven on the floor a few feet away. Suddenly, the tone of the news program changed to alert its viewers of breaking news.

“The body of a young woman has been found in a snow bank directly outside of a popular ski resort,” the news reporter announced. “While her name is being withheld at this time, it has been confirmed that she was traveling alone at the time of her death. Officials are still unsure if foul play was involved, or if this was some kind of tragic accident.”

Kristoff’s attention was immediately drawn to the unnamed dead woman. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he had an icy, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach about her. And sure enough, later that day, all of his fears would be confirmed.

It was nearing mid-afternoon when Olaf walked into his empty shop. He was sitting on a stool behind a counter, when the other man walked up and placed a folded newspaper on the counter.

“How’s it going, pal?”

“It’s going,” Kristoff answered, glancing down at the paper.

“You've been keeping up with the news?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “It’s all about that dead girl.”

“Cops think she was murdered - no idea who did it, though. Autopsy said she was suffocated, so she was already dead when they put her in the snow. Big reward.”

“Yeah?” He asked, feigning aloofness.

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “Are you playing stupid?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because I just told you that the dead girl was probably murdered and that there was a lot of money to find her killer, and you’re the only one who can find out who that bastard is.”

Kristoff stared blankly at the other man.

“The clock is ticking. They’re hauling her body to the cemetery today.”

“So soon?”

“No friends, one family member. No point in letting her fester. Are you in or not?”

“Do I have a choice?” Kristoff asked drily.

“Good answer. Now let’s get moving, we have a long drive and you need to change your clothes.”

He glanced down at his outfit before standing up and walking around the counter. “Where are we going, exactly?”

“A small town called Arendelle.”

He swallowed, unsure if he heard the detective correctly. “Arendelle?”

“Yeah, are you familiar with it?” Olaf asked, picking his newspaper up off of the counter, folding it up, and tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

Kristoff nodded. “I grew up there. Until I was ten.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready to go back.”

“Do you…?” he started, then trailed off. He was almost afraid to ask.

The other man looked at him pointedly. “Do I what?”

“Her name,” he spit out. “Do you know her name?”

“Anna Andersen.” He pronounced the first “A” in her name incorrectly; pronouncing it like the “a” in “apple” instead of like the “a” in “alms.”

“Anna,” he whispered, correcting the other man’s pronunciation.

The detective cocked an eyebrow. “You know her?”

“She lived across the street from me,” he answered, simply. It wasn’t enough to convince the other man.

“Seems like she was more than just a neighbor.”

“I haven’t seen her since I was ten,” he shrugged, though a profuse blush was spreading across his cheeks.

“Mmhmm,” Olaf acknowledged, though he remained unconvinced. “Well, we better get moving.

And the next thing Kristoff knew, they were on the road. He wasn’t quite sure how he ended up driving, though he was grateful for the distraction. His mind was spinning; he couldn’t believe that she was gone, forever, and worse, that he was going to be forced to have one measly minute with her when he selfishly wanted more. He wasn’t even sure if she’d remember him after so much time had passed - perhaps if she didn’t, it would make it easier on him. And then there was the other problem - should he mention that he’s the reason her father died?

His heart started palpitating as they drove past the cheerfully colored “Welcome to Arendelle” sign, and it only worsened as they pulled up in front of the funeral home. It was so loud that he was positive that Olaf could hear it.

He was overcome with a wave of nausea as he stood unmoving by the car, staring up at the looming building. It wasn’t until Olaf, now a few feet ahead, cleared his throat and motioned for him to follow. He did, shoving his hands into his pockets. He watched as the detective handed the funeral director a wad of cash, and the two men were led to a room at the end of the hallway.

“Would you mind if I did this one alone?” Kristoff asked, once the funeral director was out of earshot. They hadn’t entered the room yet, and were standing in front of the still-closed door. “Because I knew her?”

“What could you possibly have to say to her that you can’t say in front of me?” Olaf shot back, obviously offended by Kristoff’s proposal. “We’re here to find out who killed her.”

“I know, but she was my friend,” he begged, a few beads of sweat starting to gather by his hairline. “I could use the closure.”

“Fine,” Olaf grumbled. “But you better ask who killed her first.”

“I will.”

“And remember, you have one minute. Not a second longer.” His tone was stern, and he raised a finger as a warning.

“I know the rules,” Kristoff assured him. “Wait in the car?”

Olaf muttered something under his breath, but willingly walked away from the situation. Kristoff held his breath and pushed open the door to the room; it was small, and in the center was a shiny white casket. He hesitantly approached it, trying to gain his composure. The entire thing was surreal; he felt like this was some kind of twisted dream. Acknowledging the fact that he didn’t have much time, he opened the casket and looked down.

She looked ethereal; just like he remembered, but obviously much older. She was wearing an off-white lace dress, her hair parted down the center and each half was neatly draped over her shoulders. Bile rose in his throat as he stared at her, unsure if he could do it. Though it would bring her killer to justice, he was also being selfish.

After another moment or two of looking at her, he decided it was time. He set the timer on his watch, slowly brought his trembling hand to her face, and delicately tapped her cheek with his index finger before taking a step back. She sucked in a breath of air and her eyes flew open. And then she jumped out of the casket.

“I’ll kill you!” She yelled, grabbing the first thing she could - which just so happened to be a candelabra off the fireplace next to the coffin.

“Anna, stop!” He begged, bringing his hands up to his face to protect it in case she decided to throw the candelabra at him. “It’s me - Kristoff - from across the street.”

The look of anger that had shrouded her face quickly faded away and a look of relief washed over her instead. Her hand went limp and the candelabra fell to the floor. “Kristoff.”

She took a few steps toward him with her arms reached forward, prepared to pull him into a hug. He stepped backwards, eventually colliding with the wall. “You can’t touch me,” he warned.

“Oh.” Her arms fell to her sides and she glanced over at the coffin. “That’s mine isn’t it?”

He swallowed. “Yes. Do you know what happened?”

“I mean, I was hoping that it was all a dream. That I wasn’t suffocated to death with a pillow.”

“You were,” he frowned. “I’m really sorry.”

She blinked a few times, placing a hand on the edge of the casket, but she didn’t say anything.

So, he spoke again. The clock was ticking. “While there’s a lot I’m sure we both want to say, we have less than a minute. So, I have to ask - do you know who killed you, Anna?”

She shook her head, her eyes cast downward. “I don’t - I was sleeping. I didn’t wake up until the pillow was over my face. I’m sorry.”

Kristoff exhaled harshly, feeling defeated. They wouldn’t be able to bring her killer to justice. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“How much time do I have left?”

He glanced down at his watch. “Forty seconds, give or take.”

She gave him a sad smile. “That’s not enough, I have so much to say. All those years, I wondered what happened to you. You just disappeared. I kept hoping that you would come back, but...you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I -” he was trying to find the words, but it was difficult. He had so much that he wanted to say. None of this was fair. “The state took me away and sold the house.”

“Well, since I don’t have much time left, I just want you to know that I missed you a lot. And I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I never stopped thinking about you, either,” he confessed. “Life just...wasn’t the same without you.”

“I wish things would’ve worked out differently,” she sighed. “My time is almost up, isn’t it?”

He took another look at his watch before nodding solemnly. Twenty-five seconds.

“I’m glad that you were the last person I got to see before...you know.” She huffed a nervous laugh. “Um, if it’s not too much, could you tell my sister that I’m sorry? And that I love her?”

“Of course,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure if Elsa would be keen to visitors.

“And I hope this isn’t too forward, considering we haven’t seen each other in so long, but I want you to know that I always had feelings for you, and they never went away.”

“Me too,” he said, quickly, a blush creeping over his face. “I mean, my feelings for you never went away, either.”

“How does this work?” She asked. “You just touch me again, and that’s it?”

“Yeah,” he answered, wishing that it wouldn’t have to be this way.

She nodded once, inhaling deeply. “Okay.”

He took a slow step toward her. They had less than ten seconds left now.

“You could kiss me,” she blurted out suddenly. “That probably sounds crazy but it would bookend everything. You would be my first kiss and my last kiss.”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he nodded, willing to grant her her dying wish. She closed her eyes, and he leaned down, ready to press his lips to hers and then promptly catch her limp body. But instead, he took a step backwards.

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. “What are you doing? Isn’t my minute up?”

Though he was grotesquely aware of the consequences, he had already made his decision. He didn’t want to live his life without her, as selfish as that was. “What if you didn’t have to die?”

“That would definitely be preferable,” she said, a look of relief washing over her features.

“Okay, look, I’m not supposed to do this because there are grave consequences,” he said in one quick breath. “But I can’t just let you die, again.”

“What are the consequences?”

He closed his eyes, ashamed to admit the truth. “Someone else has to die in your place.”

Her face fell. “Oh.”

“But it’s already too late,” he assured her, waving his hands rapidly. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m not ready to let you go.”

The corners of her lips quirked up slightly. “I’m not ready to let you go, either.”

“Great,” he huffed a sigh of relief. “We have a lot to talk about, though. And we have to get out of here.”

“I can’t just walk out of here,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I’m supposed to be dead.”

He glanced rapidly around the room. “The casket. You have to get back inside.”

“Okay,” she agreed, climbing back in.

“Now, just lay really still,” he directed her. “I’m going to follow the hearse to the cemetery.”

She nodded, and he closed the lid. Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he hastily opened the door and raced out of the funeral home. As expected, Olaf was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, reading his newspaper.

“How did it go?” The detective asked, as soon as Kristoff hopped into the car.

“Uh, it went well.”

Olaf cocked his head. “Did you find out who killed her?”

“No, she didn’t know,” he answered, as he started the car.

“Of course not,” the detective groaned. “Did you get your closure, at least?”

He was staring at his rearview mirror, trying to catch the moment the hearse pulled away from the building. “Sort of.”

“Why aren’t you driving?”

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to go to the cemetery and see the burial.”

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, sorry. It shouldn’t take long.”

“I knew I should’ve driven,” he sneered, unable to hide his annoyance.

A few moments later, the hearse was driving down the street and Kristoff was following closely behind. The cemetery was a short drive away, and because no one was going to be attending the burial, that in itself was going to be quick. He had to come up with a plan.

The two men sat in the car and watched as the casket was brought over to the plot of land where it was going to be buried. Finally, Kristoff got out of the car and walked over, just in time to see it get lowered a few feet into the ground.

“Hey,” he said to the gravediggers, who turned their attention away from the shovels in their hands. He pointed towards the entrance of the cemetery. “There were some kids near the front. I think they were defacing one of the stones.”

The two men quickly dropped their shovels and raced toward the pickup truck parked a few feet away from Kristoff’s car. As soon as they drove off, he got onto the ground and opened the lid to the casket.

“Thanks for coming back,” Anna smiled.

“After all that, you thought I was going to just leave you here?”

“No,” she giggled. “I’m just really happy you came back.”

He smiled down at her. “Come on, we have to go.”

He wished he could help her out, but luckily, it wasn’t a difficult climb. As soon as she was back on the grass, he closed the lid to the casket.

“My car is right over there,” he said, pointing at the old car. He still hadn’t decided how he was going to explain this to Olaf, but it didn’t matter at this point. It was already done.

She squinted at it. “Is someone in your car?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s Olaf. He’s my...business partner?” What he also hadn’t thought of was that he was going to have to explain who Olaf was to her and the unorthodox partnership that they had arranged. He decided to cross that bridge when they came to it.

The two of them climbed into the car, Kristoff in the driver’s seat and Anna in the backseat. Upon hearing both doors close, the formerly distracted Olaf turned his attention to the new passenger, and then to Kristoff.

“Kristoff,” he said, a fake smile plastered across his face. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Anna,” she answered cheerfully.

The fake smile remained. “Why is the dead girl in your car and not in the ground?”

“I needed closure,” Kristoff shrugged.

“Your closure was supposed to last sixty seconds.”

“To be fair,” Anna chimed in, “there is a lot of history here. A minute wasn’t long enough.”

Kristoff nodded along with her statement.

The detective was seething. “Does she know about the terms and conditions that came along with her newfound gift of life? That someone else died in her place?”

“She’s aware,” Anna answered, referring to herself in third person. “She’s not thrilled about it, but she’s extremely grateful that she’s alive.”

“And you both acknowledge that I could’ve been the one to die in her place, right?”

“That’s why I asked you to wait in the car,” Kristoff explained.

“You were planning on doing this all along?!”

“No! Yes? I don’t know, I wanted options!” He exclaimed, starting to feel a little flustered. “Look, it’s over. I’m going to start driving now, we all need to go home and sleep on this.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive back was a lot tamer than the few minutes they spent sitting in the cemetery. Olaf spent most of the drive muttering to himself, clearly upset that he could’ve been a casualty of Kristoff’s impulsivity. Once they reached the music shop, well past dark, Olaf parted ways without saying a word to either of them, and Kristoff brought Anna upstairs to his apartment. As soon as they entered, Sven perked his head up.

“Oh, you have a dog!” She exclaimed, rushing over to him and immediately dropping to her knees. “He looks just like Sven.”

“That is Sven,” he said, dropping his keys on the small table by the front door.

“You saved him, too?”

“He was the first,” Kristoff explained. “That’s how I…found out about all of this.”

“I see,” she said, smothering the dog with pets and kisses. “You can’t touch him either?”

He stood on the opposite side of the room, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. “No. But, um, we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, we do,” she agreed, looking over at him. “So I can’t touch you at all, right?”

He shook his head. “No. Even the slightest touch would mean that you die permanently.”

“No hugs?”

“No hugs,” he answered.

“But what if you need a hug?” She looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“I haven’t hugged anyone in years, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Fine, what if I need a hug?”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry?” Was all that he could offer.

“And that means no kisses, too, right?”

He shook his head again, suddenly aware that the tips of his ears were burning. “No kisses.”

“Darn,” she said, softly, gently stroking Sven’s fur.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” he promised. “It’ll take a little getting used to, but I’d love the company. Or, you can leave. It’s your second chance at life and you can live it however you want to.”

“Don’t be silly,” she cooed. “I don’t want to leave. The last time I had the desire to leave somewhere, I literally died.” She annunciated each syllable in the world “literally” as if to stress the importance of its meaning.

“I just don’t want you to think that you’re obligated to stay,” he offered, shrugging his shoulders. “You can have my bed until we can figure out some kind of a sleeping arrangement.”

“I wish sharing was an option,” she said absently, continuing to focus on the dog. “But you don’t have to give up your bed for me.”

“I insist,” he said. He walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. “I’m so tired, I’m just going to stay right here.”

“You’re still wearing your suit,” she pointed out.

“Don’t care. I know you don’t have a change of clothes with you, so feel free to wear something of mine.”

“You want me to go through your drawers?”

“Don’t know what you’d be comf…” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to finish the sentence.

Anna couldn’t help but smile at him; he certainly didn’t look comfortable laying on the couch like that, but she could only imagine how drained he felt.

But an hour later, she, too, would feel incredibly drained. She had yet to change out of the dress she was supposed to be buried in, and was sitting on the edge of Kristoff’s bed, watching television. The entire situation was difficult for her to wrap her head around, and it didn’t help that nearly every station was covering her story. She was grateful that Elsa had chosen a photo to release where she didn’t quite look like herself; a photo from when she was nineteen and had dyed her hair blonde. She was glad that it had been five years and the blonde was gone and she hoped that the world wouldn’t recognize her as the “dead girl” if she went out into it.

She had never expected to see her own face on television in such a morbid, dismal way. Dubbed a “lonely tourist,” a part of her regretted ever venturing out to that ski resort in the first place. She wished she would’ve been content with the life she was living; just her and Elsa, in their childhood home. Reading books and tending to her garden, but always craving something more. She wondered how Elsa had been coping with all of this; she never ventured out of the house, due to her rampant fear of social situations. Anna was practically her caretaker, and now she’d have no one. She wished she could see her sister again. She wished she’d never left in the first place.

Snapping out of her daydream and turning her attention back to the TV, the news reporters were now talking about how her murderer was still on the lam, and the large reward for information pertaining to the case. Upon hearing about the reward, she had a flashback to the viewing room; one of the first things that Kristoff had asked her was if she knew who murdered her. Was he out for the reward money? And the man in his car, Olaf, his “business partner.” What type of business were they running? Suddenly feeling very restless and alone, she turned off the television and went back into the living room.

She perched herself on the coffee table, a safe distance from the couch, and grabbed the remote. Gently, she poked Kristoff’s arm with it.

“Kristoff?” She whispered.

“Huh?” He stirred, his eyes barely opening. He wiped at his mouth and sat up slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really,” she lied, but then decided honesty was more valuable. “Well, maybe a little. They were talking about me on TV.”

“What were they saying?”

“They’re calling me a ‘lonely tourist.’ They’re not wrong, but it’s weird.”

He was now wide awake, focusing solely on her. “I can only imagine.”

“Apparently there’s a big reward for finding the person who murdered me.”

The color drained from his face when she said that. “Yeah?”

She inhaled deeply. “You said Olaf was your business partner. What kind of business do you two run?”

“I have the music shop right downstairs,” he admitted, though it was a half-truth. That wasn't what she was asking.

“And Olaf?”

“He’s a private detective.”

“I guess I should just come out and say it,” she said, slightly frustrated at his hesitance. “Was I an opportunity for monetary gain?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Pardon?”

“The reward money. In that first minute, you made it a point to ask me who killed me. Was it for the reward money?”

“No!” He insisted. “It was for justice. I mean, the only reason I found out that it was you was because of Olaf and the reward. I had already agreed to go before he told me that it was you.”

“So, your business is to go to funerals, wake the dead, find out who killed them, and collect the reward money?”

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Are you mad at me?”

She blinked. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to be mad when I’m sitting here in front of you and I should be six feet under.”

“I swear, I only go in with good intentions. To see justice be served. Killers behind bars. The reward money is a bonus; it’s how I keep the music shop in business.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Don’t be - it’s a little shady. The entire thing was Olaf’s idea. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he saw me accidentally bring a man back to life and then immediately re-dead him. If he hadn’t seen me, I’d just be a guy with an ability that no one else knows about.”

“And I’d be in the ground,” she added.

He huffed out a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”

“Part of me wishes that I’d never gone to that stupid ski resort. Why did I have to hate my life? Why couldn’t I just be satisfied with the life I had?”

He paused briefly before responding. “I think it’s natural for us to want to try new things.”

“I feel bad for my poor sister. She barely functioned when I was home, and she warned me about leaving, and now she thinks that I’m dead.” She buried her face in her hands.

“What about your mother?”

“She died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

She pulled her hands away from her face and ran her fingers through her hair. “You wouldn’t have known. Please don’t think that I’m not happy to be here, because I really am thrilled to be alive and with you, and I’m not taking any of this for granted. It just feels so...strange. Confusing.”

He nodded in agreement. “It will be an adjustment for both of us. There’s still a lot we have to talk about.” The truth about her father was one of the things that he knew he’d have to bring up eventually, though he was absolutely dreading the thought of it.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I just needed someone to talk to.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, laying back against the couch. “But you should try to get some sleep. It was kind of a crazy day for you.”

She placed her hands flat on her thighs for a minute before standing up. “Thank you again for rescuing me, today.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “And Anna? I just want you to know that I’d make the same decision again in a heartbeat. No doubt in my mind.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “Goodnight, Kristoff.”

“Goodnight.”

And so she retreated to his bedroom, keeping her dress on and laying on top of his sheets. She still felt a bit restless, and so she turned to face the wall on the left side of the bed, lifted up her left arm and pressed her palm flatly against it.

Just on the other side of the wall, Kristoff had turned to face the inside of the couch. Unable to sleep and unaware that Anna was doing the same, he raised his right arm and placed his hand against the wall.

Unbeknownst to either of them, without the wall as a barrier of protection, their hands would be touching.

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #anna #kristoff bjorgman #human!olaf #dog!sven #frozen #frozen fic #pushing daisies!au #please don't ask me how i managed to write 5k+ words #i really don't know what came over me #but i wrote it in 3 days #i just really love pushing daisies and the parallels write themselves #also i'm lowkey really proud of this #my writing

20 notes · View notes

cordoniantrash · 4 years ago

Text

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter Ten (Part One)

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Plus a masterlist if you guys are interested. Also in AO3.

People has spoken so a split chapter it is! As usual, huge thanks to @thequeennefertipi, for betaing this really reaallly long chapter. Part Two’s tomorrow!

Anyways, feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Spelling and grammatical errors are mine.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege. Title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography.

Pairings: Liam x MC

Warning: long post (pretty PG part tbh)

Words: 6219

Chapter Ten: Armor

To all my sisters and all our friends

We have to thank them, please

Strength means blessed with an enemy

In the four years that Cassandra stayed away, her mind had conjured various scenarios where she and the others would meet again. Some of them were happy while others, fed by the anxieties that plagued her before her reunion with Liam, were darker. Sadder. Some were angry and confrontational. But this one seemed to take the cake, so to speak. Reality is stranger than fiction, after all.

She had never imagined them reuniting in a hospital.

Cassandra shivered and wrapped her cardigan tighter around her. At least we have a private room. I don’t think I’d be this comfortable waiting outside. She glanced at Lucas, who had his face pressed against the glass of the vending machine. Not quite understanding what happened, but sensing something had. He had been silent on their ride to the hospital. They did not even have time to stop by the Palace. Not that I’d feel better there. Not after the news we received as soon as we landed.

The door opened, and Cassandra rose from her seat. Her heart seemed to jump to her throat, then returned to where it was supposed to be, as Liam stepped into the room. Hana followed behind him, head down and shoulders slumped. Concern and nervousness wrapped themselves around her like a second layer.

“How is she?” she asked as she crossed the room. Lucas looked up from the vending machine and promptly bounded over to Liam, quickly latching on to his father’s leg. Liam immediately lifted their son in his arms.

“Did you see the doctor, Dad? Are you sick?”

“Not quite, darling,” he answered as Cassandra reached them. “The doctors said she’s stable,” he said to her over Lucas’ shoulder. “They’re monitoring her tonight to make sure everything goes well.”

Cassandra nodded and put a hand on Hana’s arm. Her touch seemed to jolt Hana from a trance. She looked up, eyes looking lost.

“Oh, Hana…” Cassie trailed off as she pulled her best friend into a hug. Hana seemed to shake in her arms as she returned the gesture. Over her shoulder, Cassie shot a concerned look at Liam. He echoed her look, clutching Lucas tighter. Both of them having the same unanswered question.

What happens now?

Cassie stroked Hana’s hair, murmuring soothing words as she did so.

“She’ll be fine, Hana. Kiara’s gonna be fine…”

----

One of Bastien’s agents had found her sprawled face first in her office, in a growing pool of her own blood, the surrounding space trashed. The eye of a destructive storm.

Hana has not seen how her office looked when they found her. She knew there was at least a picture. Liam had carefully hidden it, perhaps wanting to spare her the gruesome sight. But Hana could imagine it anyway. It only made her feel colder.

God, what was the last thing we said to each other? When did we last see each other in person? When was the last time I heard her voice? Will those be the last time? Dear God, don’t let it be the last time…

“… Miss Hana?” a little voice put a stop to her morbid thoughts. She looked up and met Lucas’ earnest eyes. He was extending a pack of little gummy bears in her direction. “Want some?”

“I — “she felt her eyes start to water. Lucas seemed to know what she wanted to say as he gently set the pack on her lap.

“Mommy buys them when we see the doctor. They make me feel better. Do they make you feel better too?”

Hana could not open her mouth without bursting to tears, so she nodded and tried her best to smile at the little boy and his kind gesture.

You really are Cassie’s son, she thought as gratitude swelled within her. I won’t let them hurt you too.

----

The car ride to the hospital was tense, to say the least. Leo had collected Maxwell while Olivia was given the great honour of fetching the great saint Drake from his exile. If that wasn’t bad enough, Leo had them bundled up in the same car while he took another one with his family. Someone out there must really have it against her.

I can’t believe I’m stuck in a car with these two. She scowled into the night. I can’t believe we let a snake get in the nest!

Olivia couldn’t care less about Drake and Maxwell’s colossal misunderstanding. What darkened her mood was the fact that one of theirs had been attacked in their own base. The palace was supposed to be their stronghold. The heart of their operations. I knew something was off. Damn it, I waited too long to strike!

“If you two have nothing to say to each other, I suggest you keep it that way until this hospital visit is over. Zenobia knows I don’t need more problems today.”

Maxwell nodded while a grunt was all Drake said. Are manners really too much to ask? Oh, well.

“Good.”

“Olivia…” Maxwell trailed off as she directed a glare in his direction. The Beaumont lord gulped and raised his hand, showing that he meant no harm. More than I can say over Grumpy here.

She graciously nodded, and he continued, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so.

“Is Cassie gonna be with them in the hospital?”

Olivia saw Drake freeze. Ah. This should be interesting…

She smirked and answered Maxwell’s question with the affirmative, keeping an eye on Drake all the while. The latter tried to affect an air of nonchalance as he listened to their exchange. A little too intent on listening if you ask me… she thought, amused. Then she remembered what he had done when he found out that Maxwell’s been hiding Savannah all this time. Olivia scowled once more.

You nitwits better not fuck this up.

----

Hospital reunions look nothing like their TV counterparts. Not that Drake would know. He doesn’t watch those kinds of shows. But Savannah devoured those when they were younger and Drake had retained patches of those stories in his memories. Like some weird form of osmosis.

They were led to a private room by a silent Bastien. Drake tried not to take it personally when his mentor avoided his gaze. Not that it mattered to him at that moment. He was noticing every little thing in the halls. Every sound seemed louder.

How can a person feel numb and hypersensitive all at once?

Maxwell’s question bounced around his head. Cassie’s here. She’s inside the building, probably waiting in a room. She’s here, she’s back, and Drake felt as he did when he walked into the grand ballroom four years ago. Helpless knowing that the girl he might feel something for was head over heels in love with his best friend.

No! No. Don’t go there.

They stopped in front of one of the private rooms. A casual glance down the hallway told him several agents were standing guard. Not that other people would know. They’d been trained to blend in with the crowd.

Bastien moved to open the door, but Olivia stopped him with a gesture. She whirled around and glared at him and Maxwell both.

“Remember what I told you.”

Maxwell bobbed his head, eyes wide. Drake glared at Olivia before grudgingly nodding along.

Olivia spared another moment to glare at them, no doubt willing her words to sink in before nodding. She reached for the door herself.

“Oh, and Drake? Try not to make a bigger fool of yourself.”

There was only one entrance and exit. Well, two if you count the windows that overlooked the capital. The room itself was dotted with some comfortable-looking couches. A vending machine on the far side looked out of place. Must have been a recent addition.

A little boy was standing in front of it. His little face was pressed against the glass, obscuring his features to Drake.

Drake knew there that there would be a little boy with them. So why do I feel like someone just punched my stomach?

Beside him, Maxwell gasped a name that haunted Drake’s thoughts for four years now.

“Cassie!”

A dark-haired woman whirled around. She was short, with dark eyes, a button nose, and a smile that seemed to catapult Drake into the past. She lit up as Maxwell rushed to her. Drake tried not to stare.

“Maxie!”

He looked away before they collided. He found Liam next, looking on at the scene Drake just left, a small smile on his face. It’s a reunion. Why shouldn’t he feel happy?

“Drink it all in.”

He ignored her.

“No words then? No wonder you resort to punches.”

“Oh shut up, Olivia.”

“If the shoe fits…” she shrugged as she walked toward Maxwell and Ca—no—Angeles. He always called her by her last name. I’m not gonna change that now, of all times.

He shook his head, exasperation temporarily replacing the mishmash of emotions that were threatening to pull him under. He saw Olivia stop and raise an eyebrow, no doubt scrutinising Cassandra from head to toe. Maxwell had untangled himself from the hug that he and Cassandra shared and was now sitting next to Hana, murmuring words to her.

“Cassandra.”

“Hey, Olivia.”

“Still in one piece then?”

“Seems like it, yes.”

“Hmm.”

For a moment the two women just looked at each other. Then Cassandra’s lips quirked into a smile.

“It’s good to see you again, Olivia.”

The Duchess smirked.

“You too, Cassandra.”

Drake felt both eyebrows lift in surprise. They’re getting along? Since when?

He caught Liam looking at his direction, an eyebrow raised in question. Drake shrugged and rolled his eyes. Liam shook his head, his smile growing.

I might just get through this meeting.

“Dad, can I get this one?”

Never mind.

The little boy had turned around and Drake found himself looking at Liam’s son for the first time. And stared. I thought the others were exaggerating.

“Of course, darling.” Liam’s voice immediately answered as he went to join his son.

Their exchange caused Cassandra, Olivia and Maxwell to look towards them. Which unfortunately also meant at Drake’s direction.

Cassandra met his eyes. Drake felt himself freeze. She stepped towards him, hesitation clear in her eyes. Are you also thinking about what I said that night?

She offered him a slight smile.

“Hello, Drake.”

“Angeles,” he managed to say.

Her smile widened, amusement replacing hesitation. Drake tried not to drink it in. He was hyperaware that Liam and her –their—son stood a few feet away from him.

“Are you still insisting on my last name?”

Drake shrugged, “Why not?”

She huffed out a laugh, “Never change, Drake.”

But you have. All of you changed while I remained in limbo. While I was left behind.

He shrugged again.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

----

“Now that we’re here, we need a plan.”

“Is this really the time and place, Olivia?” Cassie asked as she kept one eye on the Duchess and another on Lucas. Not that he needed much looking after. Her son was curled up in Liam’s arms, eyelids drooping as he fought off sleep.

“The sooner we make a plan, the better.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree with you,” she glanced at Hana’s silent form. “But taking this day’s events into consideration, wouldn’t it be better if we’re all well-rested before we come up with a plan?”

Olivia opened her mouth to argue, but Liam beat her to the punch.

“She’s got a point, Olivia.”

“Of course, she does,” Olivia muttered. Cassie was close enough to hear, but she doubted the Duchess really bothered to disguise her words. Liam just let it slide, his face still composed and collected. Cassie tried not to take it personally. Emphasis on tried. She might have been a little miffed. Just a bit. But then again, you know how Olivia is…

“Besides,” Liam continued. “Leo hasn’t arrived yet.”

Olivia tensed. It was quick, but Cassie was sure she saw her tense. She narrowed her eyes. Why?

Before she could puzzle it out, the door opened again, and a tall blond man stepped in. Cassie had only met him once, a few hours before the coronation. Leo Rys, Liam’s older brother. Following him was a pretty brunette.

That must be Katie, Cassie thought as she stood up. Beside her, Liam did the same, his movement causing Lucas to open his eyes. Damn it, we were so close! With so many people, it’s gonna take a while for him to be sleepy again.

Liam must have realised that too as he shot her an apologetic look. She narrowed her eyes at him. I’ll deal with you later.

Liam gulped and cleared his throat.

“Cassie, you remember Leo.”

She shot him another look before turning and smiling at Leo.

“Hello coz,” he said as he enveloped her in a bear hug. “And this must be my nephew!”

“I—yeah. Hi,” Cassie sputtered before getting a grip. I’m cousins with Liam’s brother. That’s not weird at all. Right? Right. Don’t make it weird, Cassie…

He ruffled Lucas’ hair, after glancing at her for permission. She nodded, head still trying to wrap around their connection. Her son’s eyes widened before offering his uncle a shy smile.

“Hello.”

“Hi, little guy. I’m your Uncle Leo.”

Lucas’ eyes lit up, “Like my Uncle Charlie?”

Leo chuckled, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“He’s my older brother,” Liam explained to Lucas, who was craning his head to look beyond his newly found uncle. Lucas turned, and a furrow appeared between his eyebrows.

“Do I have an older brother?”

Cassie felt her eyes grow wide as Liam seemed to choke. Leo let out a laugh. Cassie could feel the other’s gaze on her back.

Liam cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not, darling.”

“Why?”

“Erm…”

“We’ll tell you when you’re older, baby,” Cassie quickly interjected. She could feel herself blush. Liam nodded.

“Oh… okay!”

Leo chuckled and opened his arms. Liam carefully set Lucas on his feet before accepting his brother’s hug. Cassie turned to Katie. Who, she noticed, was smiling at their exchange. Cassie wanted to fan her face. Two girls had joined them. Twins. When Liam mentioned his nieces, the possibility of them being twins did not cross Cassie’s mind.

I need to make a good impression…

“Hi — “she began, but Lucas beat her to the punch.

“Hi! My name’s Lucas and I’m four!”

Cassie watched as Leo’s twins (Sabrina and Samantha, Liam had mentioned) greet her son. Katie caught her eye and smiled in welcome. I guess that works too…

“Are we all agreed?” Liam asked. People murmured their agreement. Cassie nodded along, careful not to jostle a sleepy Lucas. If she was being honest with herself, seeing Liam take control of a room sent tingles down her spine. Not the time or place, Cassie! Abort mission! Abort!

Liam nodded, satisfied. “We’ll contact each other again in the morning. Anything else? Olivia?” The Duchess nodded before whirling around and glaring at Maxwell and Drake.

“Remember, be discreet.”

Cassie furrowed her eyebrows. I must ask about that… add that to the pile of things I missed. She looked down, concealing her face in the guise of checking whether Lucas finally fell asleep. He blinked back at her, face slack. She hummed and ran her hand through his hair.

“Ready?” Liam asked as he approached her and Lucas. He sat down beside her. “Bastien’s taking us to my townhouse for the night. How is he?”

“He’s nearly asleep…” she whispered. Cassie looked and gave Maxwell a slight wave as he opened the door. He gave her two thumbs up. Cassie resisted the urge to cry. I missed them so much…

“Can we take Hana with us? I’m not sure she should be alone right now.”

Liam nodded and glanced at a still silent Hana. “Of course, Cassie.”

She saw Katie lead the girls out of the room, but not after sharing a long look with Leo. Cassie had vague memories of her mother giving her father a similar look on whenever they argued. Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt her heart clench. She felt unsettled. She saw Leo approach them.

“Can we go now?” she whispered as she turned to Liam.

“Liam, we need to talk,” Leo whispered. He met Cassie’s eye and tried to give her a reassuring grin. “I’ll be quick.”

Liam glanced at her, a question in his eyes. Cassandra nodded her head slowly, worry starting to make her fingers and toes tingle. She caught Liam’s sleeve as he rose to his feet. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. Cassie can’t quite put to words the sense of foreboding she was feeling.

“Just—you’ll be quick, right?” knowing how odd that sounded, she glanced down at Lucas. “I’d like to put him to bed soon.”

Liam gently squeezed her hand.

“I will.”

----

Maxwell finally gathered enough nerve to talk to Drake again as they stepped out of the room. Time to fix one of my screw-ups. His many – many—screw-ups. He slowed his steps and tried to sound assertive. Like Bertrand. I can be responsible!

“Can we talk?”

He might as well have asked the air.

“Drake—“

The other man walked ahead, faster this time. Maxwell fastened his pace. He called after Drake, dimly aware of the number of heads that turned as he did so. Cringing, he nearly jogged to catch up.

“Aw c’mon! You can’t ignore me forever!”

Maxwell reached out and grabbed Drake’s arm. The other man shrugged him off.

Something in Maxwell snapped.

“Drake Walker!”

Wonder of wonders, Drake stopped.

Bad news is, most of the people in the corridor did too.

So did Olivia. Scowling, she stalked towards them and grabbed both of their arms.

“What did I just say?” she hissed as she steered them towards the emergency exit. “I swear, neither of you know the word discreet.”

“I wasn’t — “Maxwell tried to protest. Olivia’s frown stopped his words from their tracts.

She nearly kicked open the door that leads to the emergency staircase, then all but pushed them inside. “If you two insist on being bull-headed idiots, get out and spare the rest of us.”

“But — “This time, it was Drake who voiced an objection.

“No buts!” she snapped as she closed the door. She fixed them with a glare.

“Talk. Now.”

It took Maxwell a second to understand what she was saying. In the end, all he managed was an intelligible “Wuuuh?”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “We will accomplish nothing with this weird lovers’ spat you two got going on. So get over yourselves and just kiss and make-up.”

She whirled around and went back into the hallway before Maxwell could blink.

“So…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure. Now what?

Drake crossed his arms and scowled, but he did not turn around and ignore Maxwell. Which is a good start! Maxwell’s gonna see it as a good start. Persistent optimism always works. Right?

“What.”

“Look, Drake… I know you’re mad at me—“

“Try furious.”

“Right. That. But, please believe me when I say I really just wanted to help. Savannah asked me not to tell anyone else, including you. Believe me, I’ve wanted to tell you since the beginning but I promised her and well…” he trailed off, unsure how to continue. I’m not doing a good job explaining, am I? God, what would Bertrand do?

Drake sighed. A moment passed. And another one. Maxwell was starting to feel sweat beading his forehead.

“I know that. It’s just—it’s been six years since she disappeared…”

Maxwell resisted the urge to reply. But it was Savannah’s choice, Drake… he’s not sure how his friend (frenemy?) would take that.

Drake sighed again. Maxwell gulped. One last try, then…

“Look, I know this isn’t the time… but can we agree to be civil for a bit? Until this whole thing blows over?”

Drake narrowed his eyes, “What’s the catch?”

Maxwell could feel his own eyes narrow in turn. “Bartie’s my nephew too, you know.”

Drake’s eyes widened, and his shoulders seemed to fall. “Right. You, uh—you can always visit them,” he mumbled as he looked at the ground for a moment. Maxwell knew Drake well enough to know that the older man was having an internal debate.

After goodness knows how long, the other man nodded as if he had finally convinced himself. Maxwell let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Drake.”

Drake grunted.

“Are we done here?”

Maxwell tried on a smile. Just take what you can get…’Cause that’s all you’re ever good for.

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

----

The car ride to the townhouse was silent. He could feel Cassie’s gaze on him the entire time. Liam did not need to look up to see the concern in her eyes. He could hardly find words to make sense of the whirling thoughts in his head, let alone words of reassurance for her. Liam wanted to reassure her, to show her that coming back here, with their son no less, wasn’t a terrible idea.

Liam just can’t seem to muster the words. He looked at their sleeping son, cradled in his arms. Cassie had enough on her plate, what with looking after Hana and the attack. Not to mention the notion of coming back here. The least he could do was carry their son to bed. Must I always fail everyone I love? Lucas muttered in his sleep, and Liam tightened his arm around the little boy. Will I fail you too?

As though sensing his thoughts, Cassie squeezed his hand. He looked at their entwined fingers. She had held his hand since getting in the car. Her warmth and presence the only thing tethering him to the present. The only thing preventing him from spiralling. He returned the squeeze and ran his thumb over her knuckle. My lighthouse and anchor both. I’m so sorry for failing you and our son. If I hadn’t—

The car came to a stop. Liam looked out the window. It was raining. I should have brought an umbrella, he thought absently. Now I have nothing to keep the two of you dry. Add that to the growing pile of my failings.

“Liam?” her voice drew him out of his thoughts. He turned his head and kissed her hand. I’ll be fine. I have to be.

The door opened and Bastien was suddenly there with umbrellas and Liam had to let go of Cassie’s hand and then it was a quick walk to the front door, while agents were shielded them from view. He felt her hand on the crook of his elbow. Still guiding him when he was supposed to guide her now.

Liam hardly felt the droplets that landed on him. At the eye of the storm that was raging in his mind, only one thought repeated itself.

I must keep my family safe.

He remembered the last time he saw his mother. Remembered how tightly she held him before kissing his forehead and walking towards the ballroom. Remembered the last smile she gave him. It did not feel like a goodbye. But things hardly do.

And I married his daughter. Did my father know what Godfrey had done when he forced me to marry Madeleine?

Liam could feel a headache forming. The monster who killed my mother has been under my nose all along… and now Leo thinks there’s more to this than what meets the eye. Must we pay for the sins you’ve done, Father? Must my son pay for something he had no hand in doing? Will my nieces? Is this the legacy you’ve worked so hard to save?

“Liam?”

He whirled around. Cassie standing at the threshold of his room, hair damp and already in her pyjamas.

“I thought you might like something hot to drink.”

“I—thank you, Cassie, but — “I can’t put you and Lucas through more danger…

“It’s hot chocolate,” she continued in a rush. She gave him a small, hesitant smile. “I know you don’t like the tea they have in the kitchen.”

“Oh, Cassie… you didn’t have to.”

She shrugged as she set the mugs on a nearby coffee table. “I know, but I wanted to.”

She came to a stop in front of him, dark eyes studying him. Liam resisted the urge to look away. She took hold of his hands, tugging him closer to her. Liam hesitated for a second before placing his hands on her hips. He could feel his shoulders loosening, the tension leaving his body. He never broke their gaze.

“C’mere love,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. Liam held her tight. He closed his eyes.

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it,” she murmured in his ear. Liam believed her. Despite everything that happened. The attack, his father’s secrets and schemes and the revelation that rocked his world, he believed her. He wanted to believe her. But Liam knows he failed her. Failed them both.

“I’m so sorry, Cassie.” he breathed out.

She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes again, “Whatever for?”

“All this. I thought it would be safe. I thought you’ll both be safe. I’ve failed you and Lucas.”

“Liam… you couldn’t have known this would happen.” She looped her arms around his neck, bringing their faces closer until their foreheads touched, “and you haven’t failed anyone, especially Lucas and me.”

“I just—“

“No, Liam.”

“But—“

“You haven’t,” she ran her thumb over his cheek. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

Liam sighed.

“Promise me you won’t keep beating yourself up over this?”

“Cassie—“

“Please?”

His forehead furrowed, trying to reconcile the dwindling thoughts swirling in his head and Cassie’s words, her warmth and the faith shining in her eyes.

“I — “he gulped. “I promise.”

Cassie beamed at him, relief in her eyes along with something that made Liam’s heart stutter.

“Good,” she breathed as she closed the gap between them.

Their drinks had turned cold by the time they dragged themselves from the bed.

----

St. Germain’s Medical Centre, the next day

She still hasn’t woken up yet. Hana stared at the clock near the window, tracking how the sweep hand glides away, showing her the seconds that was ticking by.

The night before had been a blur, with vague impressions that clued her in on what was happening. Cassie and Liam had ensured her comfort while Maxwell kept checking in on her, in person then by hourly messages. Hakim and Joelle had sent her messages, their words bringing her more comfort than anything her mother ever said. Even Rashad had wished Kiara a speedy recovery and offered to postpone their farce of a wedding or putting a stop to it altogether. Sitting next to Kiara’s bed, Hana was seriously considering his offer.

She was more than grateful for them, but she can’t seem to find words to tell them that. I’ll have to show them sometime. She looked at Kiara’s sleeping face, we’ll show them, won’t we? Please say yes…

Please wake up.

The doctors had stitched her back up, but her assailants had hit her hard at the back of her head. It didn’t help that she also fell to the floor. Hana sighed. I fear I’ve run out of tears. She certainly had the headache to prove it.

Her phone beeped with another message. A glance told her it was her mother again. No doubt pestering her about wedding details… again.

Her phone rang with an incoming phone call.

Hana pressed her palms to her face, as though the act of covering them might also block her mother’s incessant demands.

Raised voices from outside the room caused her to look up. Panic gripped her. Hana quickly got up and stood in front of the door, shielding Kiara’s unconscious form as best as she can.

The door opened and Hana had just enough time to see an agent’s harried face before the door snapped shut again. Hana stared, her heart still beating hard in her chest. What she had thought to be another attack was actually her own mother. Is this any different though?

“Hana,” Lorelai snapped, bracelets clanking together as she whirled around to face Hana. “Have you lost your senses? You were supposed to be with me today, not play-acting as some glorified nursemaid!” She stalked towards where Hana stood. “Do you have any idea the embarrassment that you’ve caused? You’re coming with me right now. Goodness, just when I thought you were over this—“

“Get out, Mother.” Hana interrupted, her voice soft.

“… you go ahead and—what did you just say?”

“I said… get out.” Hana said through clenched teeth. The numbness that settled under her skin when she heard what happened to Kiara gave way to rage.

“Now, Hana — “Lorelai began in a tone Hana knew all too well. It was supposed to be placating, a tone meant to soothe her into compliance.

“No!” Hana snapped, her voice rising. “No more! I’m done with this – with you!” A part of her was horrified with the words that flew out of her mouth while the rest of her was just all raw nerve and anger; years’ worth of pain and anger spilling out in a rush. “I’m done with being your puppet Mother and I say no more!”

Lorelai’s shock was quickly replaced by anger. She glared at Hana.

“You dare—“

“Yes, I dare!” Hana declared, back straight and gaze fixed on her mother. “I’m so sick and tired of being your perfect little doll. I’m tired of dancing to whatever tune you want me to. For once in my life, I’m making a choice for me. Not for you, not for Father, not for your own ambitions. I’m choosing me and the people that actually love me for me and damn the consequences. The wedding’s off and you can disown me for all I care. Now get out!”

Hana paused, breathing hard and feeling lighter than she had in years.

Lorelai gazed at her, mouth agape and gaze disbelieving. The door opened, and an agent stepped in. Hana took a deep breath and whirled around to reclaim her seat next to Kiara’s bed.

“Please escort my mother out of the premises, Agent Mara. We’re done here.”

----

They left the capital in the early morning hours, the horizon still dark. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had peaked its rays over the world. It was Liam who gently shook Cassandra awake as the first rays illuminated what looked like a castle taken straight out of a fairy-tale.

“Welcome to Valtoria, Cassie.”

Edgewater two days earlier

“We’ve decided to visit Cordonia for a bit.”

“That’s… that’s wonderful news, Cassie!” Hana said, her smile suddenly strained. Cassie furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Liam.

“Is there something wrong?” Cassie asked carefully. I know this is all sudden, she thought, but a brief visit hurt no one, right?

“Nothing!” Hana said, quickly regaining her composure. Cassie shot her a questioning look. Hana sighed before continuing. “It’s just — the media and the campaign…” she trailed off.

“We’ve thought about that, Hana. That’s part of the reason we asked you to come here,” Liam interjected as he leaned forward in his seat. “We plan on being discreet. Besides, while Cassie and Lucas are more than welcome to stay at the Palace, we’ll be staying at one of the crown’s estates instead.”

Intrigued, Hana raised her eyebrows, “And where would that be, Your Majesty?”

Liam smiled and laced his hand with Cassandra.

“I was thinking… Valtoria’s nice this time of year.”

Lucas had been smitten as soon as they arrived. He had run towards the short bridge that led to the gigantic oak double doors.

“It’s a castle, Mommy!”

Cassie smiled indulgently at the four-year-old.

“Seems like it, baby.”

“Like in the stories! Right, Dad?”

Liam chuckled at her side, “Yes, darling.”

“It’s pretty! There’s a lake too! Like at Grandma’s!”

Cassie felt her smile grow wider, but a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Several staff members had assembled at the front of the door.

“Uh, Liam?”

“Yes, dear?”

She took his arm and nodded towards the people assembled at the front of the estate. Manor? Castle?

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m afraid sightseeing might take a backseat for today.”

“Wait… we’re really going in there?”

Liam turned to her, his eyebrows drawn.

“… Yes?”

“Really?” Cassie repeated, bewildered.

“Don’t you like it?” She would have thought he was joking if confusion wasn’t shining from his eyes.

“What? No! I mean—I like it. It’s beautiful, Liam. But I thought—“realisation dawned on her. “This is Valtoria?”

“Uh, yes?”

“I thought – you said manor!” Cassie sputtered. Liam looked at her, eyes wide.

“It is?”

“That’s a castle, Liam!”

“Mommy? Dad?”

Both of their head turned towards Lucas. The little boy was bouncing with excitement, unaware of their conversation. He pointed towards the lake.

“Fishes!”

Cassie glanced at Liam, only to find him already looking at her. She exhaled. Before she could answer, another car pulled to a stop next to theirs. Olivia and Leo stepped out, with an older woman following in their wake.

Cassie looked at Liam.

“Later?”

Liam nodded.

“Later.”

The inside of the castle was more opulent than the outside. Gold and red seemed to dominate the space. Cassandra tried her best not to gape. The side glances that Olivia shot her told her it didn’t work. Cassie ignored those looks. Looking around, she seemed to be the only one surprised at the sheer grandeur of their surroundings.

Leo and the older woman looked to be in the midst of an intense conversation. Liam held her hand, but he frequently glanced at them, curious and wary. She squeezed his hand to get his attention.

“Are we taking Lucas with us to the meeting?”

“There’s a playroom set up for Lucas,” Liam murmured next to her as they walked through one of the corridors. “It’s right next to the room we will use for this meeting, so we’ll be able to keep an eye on him.”

Cassie nodded, relieved to tick that worry off her mind.

“Briar’s coming with Auntie tonight, so there’s someone we know that can look after him,” she murmured as they turned a corner. They both came to a stop when Lucas, who was trailing after them, gasped. They both whirled around.

“Puppy!”

“Yeah!” Maxwell agreed as he struggled to carry a wriggling little corgi. Olivia gave an audible groan.

“Where – “Cassie began before Maxwell rushed to answer.

“I found him last night! He was alone, and he looked so sad…” he trailed off as the puppy leapt from his arms, landing right in front of Lucas. The puppy let out a little huff and gave their son a doggy smile. Her son gasped, eyes wide and shining. He whirled around and looked at her, his own puppy dog eyes coming to play.

“Mommy! Can we keep him?”

“Is this really the time— “Olivia’s mutter stopped as she saw the glare Cassie sent her way. She shrugged, the closest thing Cassie would get to an apology. Cassandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before turning her attention back to Lucas.

“Baby—“

“Dad? Can we?” Lucas pouted as he turned to Liam.

“Um…” Liam shot her a panicked glance.

“Aw, c’mon Cassie!” Maxwell piped up behind Lucas.

Cassandra sighed, “We need to have him checked by the vet first—“

“I can do it!” Maxwell volunteered before Cassie could finish the sentence.

“Is this your way of avoiding the meeting, Maxwell?” Olivia asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched.

“… No?”

Cassie sighed again, a headache forming between her temples. She glanced at Liam.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with him having a pet.”

“You’re only saying that ‘coz you like dogs,” she told him. Liam smiled and nodded his head to where Lucas and the puppy were already playing. Cassie resisted the urge to aw at the sight.

“Oh, what the hell—fine! But,” she whirled at Maxwell. “You’ll take him to the vet first.”

Maxwell nodded, a grin already on his face.

“Thank you, Mommy!” Lucas exclaimed as he hugged her legs.

“As touching as this is,” Olivia interjected dryly, “shall we continue with what we actually came here for?”

“Right,” Liam nodded as he straightened up. He gestured towards an open doorway. Leo and the older woman were already inside.

“After you.”

----

Cordonia International Airport, night-time

The air was cool, and stars were appearing in the summer sky as Clara stepped onto the tarmac. There was a black-tinted car waiting for them.

“Is this really necessary?” Briar muttered beside her. “We’re supposed to be inconspicuous.”

Clara chuckled and shrugged, “It’s simply politics, old friend.”

Briar pursed her lips.

“Besides,” Clara added, “the extra security doesn’t hurt.”

“Things must be dire then.”

“With what we’ve read in the journal, this is just expected.”

Briar sighed. “Poor Lucas.”

Clara turned and looked at her oldest friend. Determination straightening her spine.

“No. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

You can read Part Two here!

taglist:

perma-tag: @liam-rhys

series tag: @captain-kingliamsqueen @killian-o-connell @mirandatwodots @princesskennarys @emceesynonymroll @kingliam2019 @bobasheebaby @princess-geek @loveellamae @texaskitten30 @fbloveschoices @dcbbw @los-cafeteros @msjr0119 @hopefulmoonobject @whovianwriter @vaticanwaltz @typicalweirdbookworm @janezillow @wildchildchey @lilaccatholic @teenytinytanya08 @twinkle-320@mkatschoicesblog @flutistbyday2020 @cmestrella

#series: once upon another time #emgee tries to write #playchoices #choices: stories you play #liam x mc #king liam x mc #the royal romance #trr #trh #trr and d&d crossover #long post

19 notes · View notes