#anyways drops this and runs to kes' intro | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lcviathans · 2 months ago

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( harris dickinson . genderfluid . he/they ) — blasting lotion by deftones down main street we’ve spotted jack "bunny" armstrong sporting a poorly - trimmed mullet and even shittier tattoos, bruises at every joint; an old thrifted t - shirt cropped too far up; and the rattiest pair of jorts ever seen by mankind. the twenty eight year old oracle who’s been in town for two weeks often can be seen stealing parts for their decrepit motorcycle, smoking outside of the only bar in town with a blood - stained mouth and a crooked grin, climbing out of someone else's window too early in the morning, giving himself a new prone - to - infection tattoo, shoving the bloodiest burger anyone's ever seen inside of their mouth, or working as a bartender at the old haunt. people say they display uninhibited and volatile traits, but we rather trust their vibes: the gleam of a knife's sharp edge in the deep, dark night - illusion shattered when the blade is lifted beneath bleeding nose; a pair of headphones that are all wires, all peeling leather - the music is nothing but static; boot print pressed against the chest like a blooming flower, skin angry and red; the stench of hand - rolled tobacco that clings in between fingers and lips; and a wallet's family portrait mirroring crumbled smiles and watery eyes, gut - wrenching guilt every time it's pried open. also, we’ve heard they love hot showers ! aren’t they fascinating ?

content warning for mentions of... incarceration, childhood illness, drugs, gunshots, wounds.

profile.

full name — eoghan llewellyn. jack armstrong.

nickname(s) — exclusively bunny ( alternatively; bunz, if only to incite anger ).

place of birth — duck, west virginia.

date of birth & age — may 13th, 1996. twenty8.

gender / pronouns — genderqueer, he/they.

orientation — bisexual, with homoerotic tendencies.

occupation — bartender at the old haunt; professional hustler; amateur drug dealer.

astrology — taurus sun, aries moon, gemini rising.

kind of being — oracle.

abilities — precognition, divination, telekinesis, spirit talkng and dream walking.

residence — a shitty, abandoned trailer, shoddy from years of neglect; the curtains have cigarette - burns and cockroaches have long - claimed the shower floor.

interests — chain - smoking outside the employee's door at the old haunt. hot showers, the kind that turn your skin red and mottled. silver rings and steel toe boots. winning a bet; winning in general. competition and worthwhile prizes. the smell of smoke, and fresh - settled ashes. nighttime. a good time. whatever he can get his hands on; mind - numbing highs and the taste of sour beer. alley cats and feral strays. stealing the last fry, the last pie slice, the last or first or maybe both kiss; always having the last laugh.

aversions — religion, but sometimes not; hard to pray to a god one no longer believes in. one that's barely there. personal questions, and getting too close. the authorities. arguments, sometimes - but never fights. tending to their own wounds; sometimes it's better to let it rot. dogs. country music, unless it fucks - then sometimes. pleather; give them the real shit. nostalgia; it's always a trap. being wrong. being right.

quirks — keeps bottlecaps in a clear vase like they're trinkets. is constantly moving around, restless. dine and dashes frequently. spins a silver band that adorns their left ring finger. eats food that's fallen on the floor. hogs the bedsheets. loves to be warm but never dresses for it. frequent ghoster. hustles others for money, especially when it comes to bar games. acts like he has the biggest mouth, when his past is a mystery.

most played — lotion by deftones.

notable features — a mess of a mullet, typically bleached. a nose once - pointed, now crooked from one - too - many punches. skin littered in tattoos, both self - done and professional.

general disposition — body at odds with itself, limbs so gangly they're only odd angles; a walking crime scene, with dead eyes to match.

character study — jesse pinkman ( breaking bad ) & mickey milkovich ( shameless ).

background.

incarceration; born in the appalachian mountains, in a tiny bumfuck town with few residents - bunny knew the stain their family held on the town before they could form a coherent sentence. it was evident in the way they looked at them, at their mother; a madwoman by all means, grieving a husband sentenced for life without parole. the llewellyns weren't welcome, not his mother nor his sister nor him.

childhood illness mention; as the years progressed, their mother worsened. his sister fell sick, like she'd fallen asleep but couldn't wake. their family was cursed - with what, he didn't know. didn't care to know - at eight years old, he knew he couldn't stay. didn't want to. so he left - took what little belongings he had, and followed the only road out. nobody searches for the child nobody wants.

the rest of his childhood is a blur of makeshift campsites and worn - down towns, odd jobs for spare change and farmer - tan sunburns. he grows like a summer weed, tall and spiraling and surprisingly strong for their scrawny form. there's a different name every town, a new identity chosen with every person he meets. he survives through labor jobs and work nobody else wants to do.

appalachia haunts him. he can hear the mountains in his mind, see his sister in his dreams. hear their mother crying. they never truly leave him - even thousands of miles away. alive, yet haunting. other voices speak to him too, spectral forms barely comprehensible to his visible eye, like looking at a physical smudge. visions come to him during his sleep. in his dreams - he can go anywhere; walk anywhere. he begins to understand why his mother went mad.

he joins a traveling carnival for a brief stint during their teenage years; their powers become useful only this once. the boy psychic, the all - seeing armstrong. the dreamwalker, the metaphysical medium. he tells people of their deceased loved ones, of their upcoming futures. it's a hit, unsurprisingly; even if he has to make things up on occasion - it's not a switch they can turn on and off, but nobody needs to know.

drugs mention; eventually, the act grows old; as jack - no, bunny - ages, the boyish charm wears off. the voices are getting louder and he wants them to stop. the carnival is an easy gateway to bigger, better things; to casual drug runs and selling to rebellious teenagers in their own podunk towns, to robberies at lone - road gas stations. going home still isn't an option; it's been so long - is it even home, still? was it ever home? bunny barely remembers his name.

gunshots, wound mention; during a stint gone wrong and a rogue crewmate, bunny made the run for it. ran and ran; pushing through branch and fog and - boom. portum, in all it's glory. the sirens and gunshots behind them fizzling into nothing, the only remnant of the woods behind them the bleeding wound in their side.

details.

incredibly evasive; doesn't answer questions of their past, but is brutally straightforward otherwise. what you know of bunny is what you get; they don't sugarcoat things, or act in kindness. their opinions are black and white, all warped perceptions and no grey area.

emotional and, at times, volatile. feels deeply, deeper than he'd like to - than he'd like to portray. fights are commonplace, especially without rhyme or reason. sometimes bunny thinks they just like to bruise.

not the most intelligent person, but has street smarts and common sense. is practical. doesn't know jack shit about pop culture, and doesn't understand references to it.

has a deep appalachian accent that hasn't gone despite having not been in the mountains since young childhood. stronger with his emotions.

doesn't like to acknowledge the fact that they're an oracle; doesn't want to dig into their family history, or dissect their mother's behaviors that make - startlingly more sense the older they age. only really has a handle on talking to those beyond the veil ( the ones without a ghostly form, the ones forgotten ) and dream - walking. everything else happens at a whim.

drugs, smoking; the first thing bunny did when they entered portum was smoke half their pack of cigarettes, snort a line, and go to the bar. someone had to patch them up in the bathroom because they didn't realize they were injured. but it's been smooth sailing since; they're in cahoots with a local witch to help them continue their... dealing.

isn't all stood - up hairs and unbridled anger. can be giddy, or amused; sometimes even excited. is softhearted when it comes to animals - particularly cats. is scared of dogs, but would never admit it.

got a shitty old motorcycle out of the junkyard and repaired it himself; drives it around town - you'll always hear him coming before you see him. is constantly stealing parts for it because it keeps breaking down on them.

is kind of living like a king if their empire was of dirt. took over a rundown, abandoned trailer as their own and lives in squalor with a sick sense of glee about it. it's practically luxury living to them. is churning ideas in their head on how to use their life in portum to their advantage.

prefers not to sleep alone and loves affection but is, well, emotionally stunted. sleeps around easily but is quick to ghost when they feel like it's becoming something serious - something real. knows how to pull away before it hurts.

can be dry and sarcastic and a little biting, except for their bouts of unpredictability. sometimes just... loses it for a bit. loses the plot. seems to get a genuine thrill out of violence, like it's a release.

reliable, to a degree. if they say they'll be there - then they'll be there. doesn't make promises often - but he never goes back on his word.

#portum:intro #incarceration tw #illness tw #drugs tw #violence tw #as a general tw fr those mentioned i think #anyways drops this and runs to kes' intro

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lilsungie · 5 years ago

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lil’ love potion

a/n: wow i fin a ll y wrote something i had a strong idea for, what a s h o c k e r, anyway i had a fun time writing this since wow i wuv hyuck n everything he does is just ama zin g. its dedicated to my lil sunflower @neo-cult-ure !! hope you enjoy it :( (kinda shakey because of caffeine and lack of sleep so pl s dont pay attention to spelling mis ta kes )

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

summary: donghyuck, your crush, dance teacher, and friend, has you come over after a late night of practice.

The boy sighed as he walked around the small studio, waiting for you to come through the doors at any minute. He was stressed obviously, not knowing how to make you learn the dance faster, not because you had to or anything was rushing the two of you, it's just that he noticed you getting frustrated whenever you would mess up or fall a bit on the tempo. He knew how it could be for a person that had just started learning their favorite idols' dances, it reminded him a bit too much of how he used to be when he'd started. Though, he did get a bit more help from his relatives, yknow, being a wizard and all he had books that had been handed down to him that he refused to use unless it was extremely needed. He played the song, wanting to start with something easy so a girl group's song would've been easier on your body, structure and all.

"FANCY" had started blaring through the speakers, the boy running to the middle of the room to get in position and revise what he had taught himself that morning, seeing if he would mess up because that would be catastrophic in his mind, messing up while teaching you something you thought he was good at. His masculine body moved through as gracefully as possible, though he nailed the whole dance, he still found where he messed up, going over and over the same part till he got it completely right, for you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he kept on exclaiming, running a hand through his hair before he slumped down on the ground, running the small drops of sweat that had started to form on his forehead and cheeks. You'd been watching him dance the part over and over, impressed, though confused on why he was being so hard on himself when even you didn't see the mistake. When he'd fallen over you quickly ran over thinking he passed out or something from exhaustion, which wasn't such a rare occurrence and was making you worry about the boy even more.

"Donghyuck," you said, pressing your cold hands to his wet and pink cheeks, "Are you okay?" He sighed out and you wondered what had been stressing him so badly, whether it was the dance or schoolwork. Truth be told, it had been you and your cute face that made him so flustered and forced him to close his eyes and roll on his tummy from how fast his heart was beating. "Geez, could you stop stalking me," he scoffed and managed to pull himself up before leaning over to hug you, the soft smell of not only your shower gel but also your coffee made everything he was saying about himself go away. It was obvious to everyone how much he liked you, he practically adored you and the thought of you being with him, though there were times where he thought you wouldn't even dare to do with someone like him. "Are you ready? Do I have to tie your shoelaces again just like the last few billion practices?" he teased you because he knew you were clumsy and couldn't bother to tie them amid practice.

You guys played around for a bit before starting to warm up, the new odd exercises making your hips sore out of nowhere. He knew you wouldn't be flexible and would need to warm up lots, he cared for you and a sprained muscle was the thing he wouldn't want to happen to you. Once he'd started teaching you, you noticed how he positioned your arms and used a different count-system to make you get accustomed to the tempo, catching the beat, everything you didn't bother about focusing because his voice counting to the melody was enough for you to remember it. You were happy with how quick he'd helped you learn since he knew you were impatient with yourself just like he was with himself. You danced along with him and managed to finish the intro and the first part that lead to the chorus, feeling happy and satisfied with yourself, for the most part, you leaned over to Donghyuck, wrapping your arms around him and whining, "Hyuck, I'm tired, can we go now? Let's finish it tomorrow!" you said and heard him sigh, though he knew it was too late to just let you go home by yourself, so you'd stay over at his place for a bit.

It was a quiet walk to his place, the boy seemed fairly off about something but he didn't dare say anything whenever you asked if he was okay or not. Even if he did seem okay he had a lot on his mind, wondering how the fuck he was going to hide the books from his parents before you even managed to see them. His apartment was a mess, potion recipes all over the place, hopefully, however, you wouldn't notice them once you walked inside. All of the recipes were some form of 'love' potion and he wasn't just going to reveal his never-ending crush on you, nor was he going to try out one on you and not reverse it immediately, similar recipes to reversal spells all over his living room floor. He was thoughtful, he knew he had flaws more than a normal person would, which is why he'd thought you wouldn't be interested in him, he was too weird for you to like him like that.

"Donghyuck!" he snapped out of his worried thoughts and looked up at you with a slightly tilted head, "Unlock the door," you said blankly and the boy mentally kicked himself for not noticing that the two of you had been standing for quite a while in the cold. He apologized before quickly unlocking the door and running in first to pick up all of the papers everywhere but before he could do anything your figure rushed inside right behind him. "What are these?" you asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper from his hands, the boy swallowing a bit too hard at the thought of what you'd think. "Ah! This would be fun to make!" You pointed the paper to Donghyuck, "You have the ingredients, right?" he nodded, head slumping down as he set all of the papers down and decided to take your coat and bag.

"You wanna," he stopped in his tracks to his room a bit, "You want some of my clothes? To like, get comfy and all?" he asked you and of course you couldn't pass up the option to wear something of his, he always smelled so nice and his clothing was always loose around you. You followed him and he gave you a pair of pajamas before leaving the room to change in the bathroom and let you have your peace. Once the two of you met back in the living room, the actual potion-making had started, gathering all the ingredients first was the most important thing before you moved to the kitchen. It did state that the potion had to be put in a warm glass bottle before drunk, and so, the boy provided everything that you needed, even if some of the ingredients sounded a bit odd. "Did you put a pan outside to collect rainwater for this?" He hummed in response, watching you shrug and pour in the water, his lower lip between his teeth. He knew it would work since he was in presence, he was scared that he might not be able to reverse it after a while, however.

After about an hour and a half, the whole house smelled like apple pie, Donghyuck jumping up to take it off of the stove, telling you that he'll bring it over in a bit. He wasn't going to taste it since you had wanted it he was going to leave it for you. He watched you drink it up bit by bit, his leg moving up and down, squeezing his fingers, biting his lip, he was anxious. "How is it?" he asked, "Do you feel anything?" You raised your brow at him, shaking your head, "What am I supposed to feel?"

"Love."

"This potion didn't make my love for you even stronger, it sucks," you blurted out, raising the little bottle to take in the little sip that was left, the last sentence you'd said out of the blue making him confused. He felt a bit relieved, maybe it was the potion working."It doesn't even taste like apple pie," you pouted before looking at him and his expression. He was blushing. "Hyuckie, what's wrong? Did I say something bad?" you asked him over and over and he still couldn't believe what he'd heard you say. He moved without thinking and sat next to you, bringing his knees to his chest and moving one hand to softly trace over your fingers.

He was calm and happy for once, "You really like me?" he mumbled out and glanced at you, his grey bangs covering most of his eyes so you weren't able to see how teary-eyed he'd become. You softly grabbed his hand, earning a small gasp of relief from the boy, Hyuck, of course, I like you, I think I've been pretty obvious about that by now," you sand softly and turned toward him, your other hand grabbing to caress his cheek, "You're literally the cutest person ever, how could i not?" You felt your hand encounter something wet, probably a tear that he shed because he'd never really been complimented on his cuteness. "I really like you too," he said, "Like, more than a lot, it's indescribable even," he quickly leaned over to press a peck on your cheek, your skin encountering his burning and pink cheeks. He was shy, embarrassed even and too scared to initiate anything in case you were uncomfortable. Though you weren't disappointed when you'd kissed him, he didn't move for a second, not realizing what was happening at the moment, it was a shock to him. Eventually, he kissed back and pulled you closer, his hands gently resting on your waist as he pulled you even closer, letting out a soft whine when he'd pulled back because of lack of air. "Wanna make another potion tomorrow?" he asked softly, knowing he would suddenly be interested in the books he was given on his birthday, happy to see you agree.

The two of you fell asleep on his couch that night, happy that somehow his weird magic scripts brought the two of you together.

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