#he LOVED him but it was so different as to be almost unrecognizable I'm going to CRY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlight-prose · 4 months ago

Text

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

a/n: i am posting the prompts i'm doing for challenges a bit late cause i haven't been here. but this is my first ever days of future past logan fic and i am nervous! i originally planned to do it in the 70s but then an even angstier idea hit me. and honestly i'm kind of in love with how it turned out. this isn't as much smut as i intended, but who cares. enjoy!

tuna-tober 2024: day eleven - tears + "i'd be lost without you." + breast worship

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn't do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI 18+ ONLY!! angst, fluff, reuniting, tears, grief, logan has ptsd, mention of death, love, breast worship, body worship, biting, dry humping, they almost get it on in an empty classroom.

He never felt his heart beat this fast. A rapid thud, thud, thud against his ribs as he took long strides through the halls. His eyes scanned each corner and passing student for the sight of someone familiar. Logan didn't have any worries that you would be unrecognizable. He didn't worry that you were different.

His soul would know you from miles away—the connection that tied you to him stronger than his will to survive.

No matter what Charles told him. He didn't go back for him or Jean or Storm. He didn't fight to change history just to get a chance to save his family. That remained only part of the reason. Logan survived—he clawed his way through the past—for one sole purpose. He would finally get a second chance; he'd get to see you smile again, hear you laugh, feel your lips against his.

Going through hell became worth it if it meant getting the opportunity to have you in his arms.

Students pushed past him on their way to lunch. Several greeted him with a term he would have to grow accustomed to—professor—others tossing him a warm hello before they scurried by. He seemed to have a solidified life here. The promise of peace in a world that once ripped him in two. He wasn't just the Wolverine in these hallowed halls.

He was Logan Howlett too.

"Baby!" he called, running down the empty hallway towards the set of classrooms. "Princess are you here?"

Charles directed him in his mind, pushing images of moments he couldn't recall to the front of his mind. Smiles hidden in secret during meetings packed in a too small office. Touches that you hoped went unnoticed through training sessions and meals in the dining room. Jokes about the two professors who snuck into each other's rooms at night for months on end, long before they finally decided to move in together.

Time he'd never get back. Memories that never belonged to him in the first place.

Would you like this version of him? The Logan that had seen far worse, who endured a war, who held your dying body in his arms as a battle went on behind him. Would you love the scars that ran just a bit deeper? The pain that lingered for far longer than you deserved.

Fear gripped his heart at the thought of anything other than your love. He wouldn't survive a life spent without you. He went through that once and every day felt as if his soul was being torn from his body. Each gruesome wake up to move places and fight for mutants who may never make it out alive, became lifeless—colorless—because you weren't there.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, turning in a circle, his chest heaving with gasped breaths. The air seemed to be stripped clean of your scent, no mark of your existence filled the mansion as it once did.

He felt his body seize—the familiar numbing ache trickling down through his body.

No reason to live resided in his heart if you weren't here to spend it with him.

"Princess!" he practically shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Fuck. You gotta be here. You gotta–"

"Logan?"

The soft lilt of your voice forming his name on your lips punched him in the chest, effectively stealing whatever breath he clung to. He whirled around, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, as you popped out of the classroom door behind him. He'd never seen such beauty until today. A wash of relief flooded his body, the weight on his shoulders landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

He drank in the sight of you with a smile. The curve of your hips in a too tight black and white pinstripe pencil skirt, the way your white button down rolled at the sleeves hugged your breasts—the black lace bra faintly evident against the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He devoured you with his gaze alone. Yet the hunger still persisted. It ate at his heart, begged him to move, to gather you in his arms.

But for the life of him...he was unable to gain control of his limbs.

They were stuck. Frozen against time as you moved a bit closer, your black heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

You looked exactly the same. Though some differences lay in the style of your hair, the red lips painted deep and enticing, the glasses tucked into the front of your shirt, Logan felt as if you were ripped right from his memories.

His girl. His princess.

"Baby," he murmured, doing what he could to catch his breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as you regarded him with a flash of concern. "Is everything okay? Charles let me know you were looking for me."

The mention of the man's name forced him to finally move. What little of Charles still lingered in the back of his mind quickly retreated—the mission to find you now complete. This was his way of giving the both of you some privacy. A chance to reconcile with the woman he thought he'd never see again. Logan thanked him silently, promising to speak after all was said and done—after he got a chance to hold you for the first time in nearly a decade.

"You're here," he sighed, his feet moving faster than either of you expected.

"Of course I'm here. I had a class to teach. Quantum mechanics, well actually more a study of molecular physics today. I thought I let you know at breakfast–" His hands gripped your waist roughly, pushing you back into your empty classroom with a growl. "Logan!"

His foot shut the door, hand blindly fumbling for the lock, as he dragged you against his body with his other arm. An explanation would be given later in the dark confines of your shared bedroom. He'd explain it all to you, every gruesome and grave detail. All the questions he knew swirled inside your head—ever the curious woman he fell hopelessly in love with.

But right now he'd have you on the nearest desk (preferably yours). In this fleeting moment he would reclaim what was so brutally taken from him; the love he felt now pouring out from every part of his body. Beating in tune with his erratic heart.

"What are you doing?" you gasped, hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

His stomach fluttered, the sensation of being on cloud nine now a reality the longer he looked at your pretty form. Hands quickly roamed his shoulders and arms as you checked for any injuries that might appear at a moment's notice. Nevermind that he healed quicker than any other mutant in this school. Nevermind that he stared at you with an expression that could only be described as awestruck.

You still did what you felt was necessary to ease the growing worry in the back of your mind.

"'M more than okay baby." The low rasp of his voice forced your gaze up to his within seconds. A soft oh echoing in the empty room.

No explanation was needed when he looked at you with pupils that devoured the hazel of his iris. You knew what he wanted—could feel the desperation in his tight grip. The thickening sweetness of your scent curled around his senses like a drug, filling his body with a need that permeated the air.

"I missed you," he breathed. "So much."

Logan wished there was a way to convey how much anguish his heart went through in the years after your death. The nights spent yearning for your touch. The memory of you passing onto a plane he couldn't follow burned onto the back of his eyelids. He couldn't escape what happened.

Death was an easy option for him. A choice he would have made in the blink of an eye. But the laws of his own being were unable to be severed. He'd never be able to join you—forever stuck in a world without your light.

He longed to tell you all of it, but feared he might fuck it up.

"You saw me a few hours ago," you grinned.

"God I wish that were true."

Your mouth parted, eyes overflowing with worry, and Logan could no longer fathom a moment without your kiss. Dipping down swiftly he slotted his lips against yours with a groan. His hands gripping any plush part of your body he could reach. Unable to stick to one spot because there was so much of you he missed. The feel of your ass in his hands as he gripped you close, how you blissfully sighed into his mouth, relenting to his hold.

Kissing you felt as if he gained back all the years he missed out on. The time he thought was unsalvageable.

The feel of your tongue pressing against his drove him over to the edge of madness. A feral moan coated in a gravel hoarseness ripped from his throat, his fingers squeezing your body to drag you even closer. He sucked on your bottom lip, licked into your mouth with whimpered broken sounds, and refused to stop even when you pulled back for air.

"W-We're in a classroom Logan," you gasped, high-pitched and layered in a neediness that matched his own.

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

Sucking your tongue into his mouth with a grunt, he began to walk until the back of your thighs hit the grand desk you sat at. The plaque of your name now lay with a pile of papers that landed on the floor. He groped your breasts, tugging the buttons until they popped free—scattering across the room with soft pings.

"My shirt!"

He grinned. "I'll help ya find them later, princess."

"You're not fucking me here. We have a room for a reason." The words were accompanied by a moan, your head tipping back to give him the expanse of your neck.

Space he happily began to sink his teeth into. He sucked at your skin as he pulled at your bra, his thumbs running across peaked nipples that practically begged for his attention. An act he was more than happy to partake in. With a grunt, he sucked one into his mouth, spit smearing into your soft skin with the promise of making a mess wherever he could.

"F-Fuck," you panted, fingers ripping at his hair as your hips canted up into his. "What's gotten into you baby?"

He answered with a deep grind of his hips into yours, the sticky precum practically drowning his cock in the confines of his jeans. Self control wasn't his strongest ability at this very moment. Not when he could feel the heat of your cunt call his name. He'd be surprised if he lasted long enough to sink into you—to finally indulge in the warmth of your body.

Teeth dug into the side of your breast, his hands tugging your cunt along his jeans as tears pricked his eyes. Losing you wasn't the worst part of all of this. Not being able to remember the last time he felt you this way—the final day of joy in your relationship before it happened—would forever haunt him. A memory he should have solidified in the back of his mind slipped free before his very eyes.

How did you smile at him? Was it a stolen moment by firelight? Were you smiling just to appease his growing anxiety about losing you? Or did you feel a flicker of joy?

For the life of him...he couldn't bring that moment to mind.

"Logan?" Your hands tugged his head back, thumbs wiping away tears he didn't know started to fall. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

He grinned, broken and marred and bleeding all the love his weary body could muster. "I'd be lost with you."

You paused, disbelief shrouding your features. "What are you talking about baby? Did something happen?"

The time to reveal it all would be now, but how could he move past this? Your breasts were free and coated in his spit, your eyes were darkened with wanton lust. To him you would never look more beautiful. Entirely disheveled, yet still willing to help him by any means necessary.

You would always be—and forever remain—the other half to his scarred soul.

"I'll tell you later," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "I'll tell you everything."

"But–"

He shook his head. "Lemme have this. Okay? I need this."

A discerning smile crossed your lips as he leaned in for another kiss, his body pressing you down until your back hit the desk. This certainly wasn't how he envisioned your reunion happening. A quickie in the confines of an empty classroom that you'd eventually teach in a few hours later. But Logan couldn't fathom waiting. He'd spent years pining after a soul that might never walk the same ground as him.

A brief moment of bliss. A short forever in the allotted time.

This was something he could steal for himself.

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #tuna tober prompt challenge 2024 #tuna tober 2024 #my writing

281 notes · View notes

remlionheart · 8 months ago

Note

Is there ANY chance you’d do a Gojo/Reader/Megumi euphoria version, just as nasty and beautiful as the other ones ??? You know, with dp, creampies, praise kinks etc

Maybe it could pick up when y/n goes back for another party like Gojo said and he found out that she also had a crush on Megumi so he invited him too and they’re all high etc. OOOFFF I got excited just by thinking about it

Let me manifest you writing this with your incredible talent 🙌🏼✨

When I tell you this had fireworks going off in my brain when I read it this morning 😮‍💨 I love all of you and your ideas so much ₊˚ෆ My schedule has been pretty tight lately between work and writing and trying not to lose my mind in the mix, but this got me up and to my laptop the minute I opened it. Manifest and you shall receive 🔮✨, ily nonnie ♡

➳ all of my euphoria fics are standalone for the most part, but meg's full story can be found here and gojo's here if you're new. this one in particular is more of an AU drabble than it is a continuation of either. (also - quick lil disclaimer: all characters are aged up to 21+, meg was raised by toji in this not gojo, and finally, i am not responsible for what i write when i'm ovulating bc this turned out fucking filthy) hope u like it ♡

۵ ⋆˙MDNI ⋆˙۵

Show and Tell ₊˚⊹♡

You stared down at your phone, rereading the text from Gojo-sensei for what had to be the tenth time when you finally took a breath and opened the front door. His living room was exactly how you remembered it: overflowing with people and music and purple lights and drunken nonsense. The only difference was that you were coherent this time and actually able to push yourself through the sea of your former classmates as you made your way up the stairs.

With each step you took though, you couldn't decide if your sobriety was a good thing or a bad thing. Your heart was jumping around in your chest, your eyes glued to the floor in a feeble attempt to avoid the suspicious eyebrow raises you were getting the closer you got to his bedroom.

“I want you over here again next weekend,” he had said in between breaths, his cum seeping out of you as he pulled out. “Got it?"

You thought it had just been the heat of the moment talking. A fleeting 3 am coke-induced thought that he'd forget about once he came back to his senses, but he didn't. He was holding onto his demands, waiting for you as you reached for the door handle.

No one was allowed in his room.

No one, except for you.

Your footsteps came to an abrupt pause, your gaze suddenly darting between the two sets of blue eyes that were looking back at you. A familiar smirk tugged at the corner of Gojo's mouth as he held his hand out, motioning with one finger for you to come closer.

Megumi watched the way you walked towards him, noting the little exhale you let out once you'd reached him. Your nervous excitement was almost as palpable as it was pitiful. A faint shade of pink decorated your cheeks as you stood between your former teacher's legs. "Open." Gojo instructed.

Megumi had heard the rumors about the two of you hooking up, but he hadn't really believed it until now. His jaw clenched, his eyes still trailing over you while you obediently lolled your tongue out for the silver-haired man. He wondered if you even knew what you were taking as Gojo placed a point of molly into your mouth, nodding proudly as you swallowed it.

It was odd, how similar you still looked to the last time he'd seen you at Jujutsu High but how absolutely unrecognizable you seemed showing off for your former teacher.

"See how good she is?" Gojo mused, breaking Megumi's train of thought. "Does exactly what she's told. Takes orders so well." Megumi's pupils widened when he noticed that you were looking at him now as Gojo began to slip your shirt above your head.

"I... should probably go -"

"Relax." Gojo said simply, his hands reaching around to unclasp your bra. Your nipples hardened as it fell to the floor, leaving you exposed in front of the two of them. "You're here for a reason."

A burst of warmth and blissful dizziness spread through your body, whatever drug he'd given you was starting to take hold. It felt different than the coke you'd done last time, but you couldn't quite place your finger on what this was. It was an overwhelming heady sensation. A fluttering in your chest. A smile you couldn't quite fight back. An insatiable urge to just touch something.

Gojo shot the raven-haired boy a grin that could've rivaled that of the devil's. "I saw the way she was looking at you the last time she was here. Think she has a bit of a crush on you." His tone was taunting, his hand running along the curve of your hip as he redirected his attention up to you. "Don't you, baby?"

You wanted to say no. Wanted to lie. Wanted to create a convincing argument against it, but the substances in your system were making it increasingly difficult to not lean into your real feelings. The things you couldn't possibly say out loud sober, the desires you'd usually bury - they were all at the forefront of your mind. Willing and ready to make their appearance the second your mouth opened again.

"I -"

But Gojo's palm found the inside of your thigh before you could get it out, you nearly moaned just from the feeling of his fingers roaming up towards your center. Everything suddenly felt so good. So unexplainably fucking good.

"Tell him." Gojo prompted, sliding your panties to the side. "Don't look at me, look at him. Tell him how bad you want him to fuck you, baby."

Even under the red glow from Gojo's headboard light, you could see the curiosity and blatant want laid out on Megumi's face. You kept your eyes locked with his as Gojo slipped a slender finger between your folds, making it impossible to keep your voice steady.

"Megumi..." it was a whimper. A sweet, lewd little nothing that made his cock twitch. You reached for his hand and he took it, slowly lacing his fingers into yours. "Will you –"

"No. That's not it." Gojo shook his head, forcing your gaze back on him as he slammed two fingers into you, almost making your knees buckle. "You're not asking, you're telling him what you want. C'mon baby, use your words."

Your whines were echoing across the room, your body grinding greedily against Gojo's digits as you looked back to Megumi with your bottom lip lodged between your teeth. Your head was everywhere. Your body so overwhelmingly sensitive.

"Megumi, please." You tried again, but it was just as desperate and feeble as before. "I... really... want – oh, fuck." Gojo was relentless, the wet sounds of him plunging into you only getting louder. "Please." you writhed against him, shooting Megumi a helpless look as your eyes began to roll. "Please, Megumi, I – want you... to... fuck, ohmygod –"

"There she is." Gojo praised, using his thumb to rub against your clit. You were clenching around him, nearly dripping as you stood before him, your vision dancing between the two men. "Keep going. Keep talking. Don't stop."

"I-want-you-to-fuck-me." It almost came out as one word with how quick and breathlessly it left your mouth. "Please. Pl – ease. Oh, fuck. Fuck... I can't.... Gojo, 'm gonna –"

It felt like something inside Megumi had snapped as he watched the orgasm rake through your body. The way your eyes glazed over. The way you leaned against Gojo for support as your cunt spasmed around him. The slick glistening down your thigh. You looked so dazed out and gorgeous, it was almost too much to handle. The molly in his system was hitting him just as hard as it was hitting you.

His fingers were still tangled firmly into yours, your knuckles almost turning white from how hard you'd been holding onto him. The second Gojo released you, Megumi was pulling you over to him, his lips meeting yours with feral urgency while he guided you on top of him.

There was an undeniable energy between the two of you. Your bodies both humming with desire as he kissed along your neck, using his other free hand to undo the buttons of his pants.

Gojo smirked watching the two of you before leaning over to his nightstand and divvying out a bump of coke for himself.

Megumi was careful as he lined himself up with your entrance, letting his tip slide in slowly. You were so wet. Already moaning with how little he'd given you. "Fuck, you feel good." He groaned, placing his hands on your hips to help pull you down further.

You gripped his shoulders, easing yourself further and further down. You felt delirious from how perfectly he was stretching you, another surge of warmth rushing over you as you matched his rhythm.

"You're s'fucking pretty." He whispered, his hips bucking up, making your eyes nearly cross as his tip met your cervix. "So cute when you're all fucked out like this."

Gojo stripped out of his pants and boxers, undoing the buttons along his shirt as he continued to watch the two of you. "She's a tight little thing, isn't she?" He smirked. "Don't worry though, she can take it." His thumb was suddenly under your chin, forcing your face next to his. "You want him to go deeper, baby?"

You nodded back him with stars in your eyes, whining into his mouth as Megumi plunged himself into you earning an arrogant smirk from Gojo. "Look at that pouty face." he teased, parting your lips with his tongue. "Such a good girl, you know that?"

The feeling of Megumi filling and laying into you while Gojo-sensei instructed him how to fuck you felt too farfetched to be real. You must've been in a dream. A delicious dream that you never wanted to wake up from.

"Oh, you're close, aren't you?" Gojo grinned, noting how feverish your movements had become. How much harder your ass was smacking against Megumi's thighs each time you came down.

He stepped away, letting you fully grab onto Megumi as you mewled out his name, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. You were clenching around him, nearly shaking from how good he felt. "Megumi, 'm - I -"

"Shh," he soothed, pulling you down onto him. "S'okay, I've got you. Look at me." There were overstimulated tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when they met his. "Let me see it."

You were writhing against him. Your eyebrows knitting together as your thighs locked in place. You slid down, taking every inch of him, making your body nearly convulse. Your pupils bloomed as your mouth fell open. Loud, incoherent whines leaving you as tears began to spill down your cheeks. "I'm cumming." You cried. "Fuck, Megumi. I'm cumming, I'm cumming, 'm -"

You were inconsolable, spasming against him with fervor as you drenched him. "Oh my god," he groaned, feeling himself teetering on the verge of his breaking point too. You were smothering him.

His head spinning from how snug and warm your walls were, how they just kept getting tighter around him the harder he continued to pump into you. You were so pretty to look at - the way your tits bounced perfectly with each thrust, the way your eyes stayed focused on him, the way you kept whimpering out his name in this adorably pitiful broken voice. This entire thing felt like dream to him too. A salaciously beautiful haze that he'd think about for at least the rest of his life.

"I'm about to cum." He warned you, unsure where you wanted it. Gojo stepped back in, standing behind you to place his hands on your shoulders as he pushed you down further, drawing out another blitzed-out noise from you.

"Let her have it." Gojo nodded, holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while he kissed the side of your neck, his free hand drifting down to your clit. The sensation made you grind against him even faster, moaning into Gojo's mouth as Megumi filled you. "Good girl." he whispered. "Look at how well you're takin' him, baby. Makin' me so fuckin' proud."

Gojo helped guide you off of him once you were both done, careful to lift you as a mixture of fluids spilled out of you. "Messy girl." Gojo smirked. "Need you to get him all cleaned off before he goes back out there, 'kay?"

You looked at him from over your shoulder, giving him a dizzy smile as he bent you over and Megumi spread his legs apart to accommodate you.

He was so spent. So high. So blissfully exhausted, he wasn't sure it'd be possible for him to cum again this soon. But the minute he felt your tongue press against his base, the way you looked up at him through those heavy lashes - he quickly realized that he had at least one more left in him.

Gojo took his time, admiring how puffy and pretty your leaking pussy was. He'd gone easy on you last weekend. Tried to keep his roughness to a minimum, but he knew you were ready.

He rubbed his tip between your folds, wetting himself with the slick. "Stay focused on your breathing."

It was the same thing he'd told you the last time he entered you, only it held new meaning now that you had a mouthful of cock and Gojo-sensei's girth inside you. Your back arched for him, your eyes glazing over as Megumi's hand tangled into your hair.

"You've got it." Megumi reassured you. "Just like that."

Gojo's grip was tightening around your hips the further he went. "Don't stop just because I'm in you, I wanna see you take that whole thing."

You mewled against Megumi, drool dripping down your chin while Gojo pummeled further into you. You kept one hand on him, slowly pumping as you tried to find a good rhythm, but Gojo's pace was picking up, rocking you back and forth and making you forget how to breathe altogether.

"Gojo-sensei ~" you whined.

The formality only made his thrusts more punishing, but your walls were sucking him in so faithfully no matter how hard he went. Your body absolutely melting at his touch.

"Focus." his tone was stern, his hips meeting yours condemningly. "Show me how bad you want this. If you stop, so will I."

You opened your mouth wider, letting the pool of spit you'd gathered glide down Megumi's length as he lightly pressed your head down. "Oh shit." He muttered, watching you take almost all of him.

"There you go." Gojo praised, his hand reaching around to meet your clit again. "See how good that feels, baby? To have my cock buried in you and his down your throat?"

His fingers were drawing heavenly circles around you, the room filling with the carnal sounds of him bullying himself into you and you slurping and lapping up every bit of Megumi. You were a whimpering, soaking mess. Moaning out both of their names now each time you came up for air.

"She's already getting close again." Gojo mocked. "Poor thing, she's just so sensitive."

His fingers swirled firmly across your clit, feeling the slick that was building as Megumi thrusted himself into your mouth. Your eyes were watering again. Your legs shaking and your heart ready to beat straight out of your chest from how obscenely euphoric it all felt.

Megumi moaned prettier than any man you'd ever heard. The noises he was making alone were almost enough to keep you going. You nearly choked on him when you finally felt him twitch inside you, coating your throat with warmth as his head lulled back.

"Fuck." he rasped, pulling your head back up to look at you. "You have no idea how perfect you feel."

You gave him a glazed over smile, your cunt throbbing as Gojo continued to dominate you. He could feel you about to bottom out. "She's so ethereal, isn't she? Like a fucked-out angel." He mused, watching you reach for Megumi's hand as you clenched around him.

You were completely incoherent, your vision blurred by molly and red lights and the softness of Gojo's sheets. Megumi leaned in to kiss you, still letting you squeeze his hand for support. "God, you're gorgeous." He breathed. "Keep goin'. You're right there."

You kissed Megumi so hard you were afraid you were going to hurt him, but he didn't seem to mind, holding you tighter as you shook and moaned against his lips. “There it is.” He nodded. “You love cumming all over us, don't you?"

You nodded helplessly, tears still streaming down your face as you returned his small smile. "So - much." You choked out, your pussy clamping around Gojo as he pounded his release into you.

You were so unexplainably full, almost afraid that you wouldn't be able to stand once Gojo pulled out of you, but he helped get you to your feet.

"My little show-off," He smirked, placing a light kiss on your forehead. "Always such a teacher’s pet.”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

250 notes · View notes

velvetures · 2 years ago

Note

could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>

pls and ty 🙏🏻

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic

a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.

Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.

You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.

At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.

What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.

Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.

Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.

Knowing that gave him… fantasies.

Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.

Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.

Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.

Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.

Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon answered #anon <3 #anon ask

1K notes · View notes

b-skarsgard · 25 days ago

Text

https://parade.com/movies/bill-skarsgard-nosferatu-interview-exclusive

Skarsgård's vampiric transformation does make him virtually unrecognizable. Combining full-body prosthetics and elaborate costumes, the actor built the character with Eggers over a 10-year period, even working with an operatic vocal coach on a completely new voice. If you're able to spot Skarsgård in the film, hats off to you.

Of course crafting a new version of Dracula/Orlok was certainly a momentous task. Skarsgård's been told there were already over "170 different adaptations" of the character prior to his own. He's humbly giving much of the credit for his own transformation to Eggers' screenplay, though.

full article at the link and under the cut

"I read Robert's Nosferatu script almost 10 years ago, and it hasn't changed all that much in those 10 years," he says. "So the version of Dracula was already different on the page."

Step one in the transformation was the voice. "I was really enamored by Orlok's language," Skarsgård says of Eggers' script. "He's technically speaking German in the movie, but it's English. I think he's learned German just from reading all of these texts and old books. It's this awkwardly constructed English that came out of that."

Orlok's voice was especially important in this film as the character spends much of the film hiding in the shadows to keep his true form hidden from Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult). "The movie monster tends to not have much dialogue, but in this case he has a lot," Skarsgård reflects. "So the voice became my way of expressing the character."

The deep gravely voice in the film was the product of acclaimed Icelandic opera singer Ásgerður Júníusdóttir. "We explored the voice together, but also the technicality of using your entire body when you speak and placing the voice as low as you can in your body," Skarsgård says. "It's a new world for me, and I love voice work. I was just absorbing all of these tools that I'm going to use as my career progresses."

Layered on top of the vocal work were Linda Muir's costumes, what Skarsgård describes as "historically accurate costumes that a 16th-century Hungarian nobleman would have worn. They're the clothes he would have worn when he was a man."

While Focus Features is keeping Orlok's appearance under wraps for as long as possible, you can see the massive fur coat Skarsgård donned in the shadowy poster.

"I knew the shadow was going to be an ally for Orlok, especially in the scenes with Thomas, where he's hiding his appearance," he says. "So he lives in the shadow, and he uses his big fur cape and the hat to not give away what he is. The shadow became a friend."

Perhaps the most impressive element of Skarsgård's transformation, however, was David White's prosthetic makeup, which took hours to apply each day, was difficult to act through and painful to wear. When I ask if he was able to cheat on days he was in the shadows, Skarsgård says no with one exception: "Every single shadow in this movie is also me puppeteering behind camera. That was the only time where I didn't need to have the full regalia on.

"The full prosthetics would take six hours to apply. "It's just uncomfortable," Skarsgård says of having to sit in the chair that long. "And any sense of privacy goes out the window. You become very close with the team that's applying this makeup. They're really getting up in there with a brush in your ass crack. They become your little safe space."

And the six-hour application process was just the beginning of what could be long, physical days on set. The film's final moments involve a sex scene between Orlok and Lily-Rose Depp's Ellen Hutter, which Skarsgård performed in head-to-toe prosthetics.

"I don't know her perspective on, 'I'm going to kiss this monster,'" Skarsgård says about his (fully clothed? skinned? suited?) sex scene, "But for me, when we shot, I was Orlok, and I really, really, really wanted to devour her."

If performing a sex scene in a hot latex bodysuit sounds miserable, that's because it was. "The actual final moment of Orlok was incredibly physically exhausting because there was a lot of technical camera work," Skarsgård says. "What's in the movie, I had to do that 30 times." If you've seen the film, you'll know how truly arduous that experience must have been.

The most difficult day on set for Skarsgård, however, involved a sequence filmed on a boat during Orlok's transfer from his castle in Transylvania to the German harbor he plans to terrorize next. In one scene that involved "pretty tricky advanced camera work," a seaman descends into the hull of the ship to "rid the boat of this demon." As the camera follows the sailor, Skarsgård's Orlok is initially seen behind the man in the shadows.

"Then I have to exit frame, run around and enter my position for when the jump scare pans down to the rats and then pans up and I'm standing there," Skarsgård remembers. "So it's very physical, but I was covered head to toe, except for my eyeballs and the soles of my feet. Even my palms and my hands are covered. That was a 12-hour day."

With that many prosthetics on, there's nowhere for all that sweat to go. "It doesn't breathe, and I don't think it's healthy," Skarsgård confides. "Your body's probably absorbing all those f--king toxins and glue and sh--, plastic and latex and whatever."

During the 12 hours running around the hull of a ship, Skarsgård remembers thinking, "I don't know what's happening, but my body is not doing well."

"You know the skin is your biggest organ right," he says. "So it needs to breathe. I got flashbacks from that urban legend about the woman in Goldfinger being covered in gold and actually dying. I'm like, 'Okay, this is how I go.'"

Obviously, Skarsgård did not die of heat exhaustion in a latex Dracula suit like that one cameraman in the 2022 film Babylon.

"At that point I told them—because it was a long day and I was waiting around—'We need to open it up so my body can breathe,' and then they found the pockets where I could open up and my body started to breathe."

Skarsgård compares the agony of the shoot with what he thinks childbirth would feel like. "They're not on the same level, of course. I've seen childbirth, but it's as close as I can get to giving birth as a man, as these f--king monsters I'm portraying," he says.

When I ask him if there were any other iconic monsters on his bucket list, he says he's done for now. "To play Orlok in Robert Eggers' Nosferatu is the holy grail," he says. "It's kind of the peak and, in a way, the nail in the coffin."

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #nosferatu #article #interview #parade

68 notes · View notes

ann-atar · 4 months ago

Text

We're seeing Celebrimbor and Sauron as themselves, the best and worst of who they are, and I'm really in awe of both of them for different reasons. And the actors holy crap.

I'm in awe of Sauron for showing his real self to Celebrimbor. He's a mess because of Melkor in ways he is not quite aware of, but this time with Celebrimbor will give him insights into himself that would not have been possible without our favorite elven smith. I bet the fallout from this time in Eregion will sneak up on Sauron in unexpected ways later.

I'm in awe of Celebrimbor's brilliance and his bravery. He fought his way out of that nearly flawless illusion by force of will alone, and no one else has been able to do that (maybe Adar, but we don't know that Sauron constructed a whole fantasy world for him or not, and with Galadriel it was Sauron who played along in her fantasy).

I have no doubt after their scenes in this episode that Sauron loves Celebrimbor; as much as a being like Sauron is capable of love after forsaking emotional love all those eons ago, he loves this genius artist.

The tears in Sauron's eyes during "it's a pity" gave me chills.

And Celebrimbor admitted that a part of him knew that something was not right but he wanted what Sauron had to offer anyway. One of the things Sauron offered was collaboration and creation with someone on his level. They have a deep understanding of each other despite the enmity and Sauron will mourn in his own twisted way when it is finally over.

Yes, Celebrimbor went back to stall Sauron so Galadriel would escape safely with the rings, but I think he went back because even if the "light" he spoke about is elsewhere, the color and the connection are still by Sauron's side and he has chosen that place for his end. He and Galadriel could have escaped together easily enough, there was no compelling strategic reason for Celebrimbor to go back, but he went anyway. To do what he could, and because he's the only one who can "play the game" on Sauron's level.

But Celebrimbor knows it's almost over; for an artist to destroy one of his hands, well.

I'll probably have more to say about this after I really unpack it, but it's as if Celebrimbor knows that Sauron is as obsessed with him as he is with the rings, and their game-playing has reached more than a fever pitch, so Celebrimbor understands that Sauron will not be able to resist the chance to best him and prove whose will is stronger.

But this version of Sauron ... will be changed after this time in Eregion. He has cast off the facade of Halbrand completely and will be unrecognizable to Galadriel (I hope that's what helps her defeat him or get away) but he has crossed another threshold and will never be able to go back to the point when he arrived for the second time in Eregion and made a choice to follow old paths of destruction, and the even older pattern of abuser and abused.

Will we see Celebrimbor displayed as Sauron's "banner" in the next episode? I'm not sure, but it makes sense because if Celebrimbor dies Sauron will not be able to let him go right away, not even his body, not even in death.

(I'm tagging this silvergifting because that ship predates everything, and this episode was as close to an interpretation of book canon as I could imagine, and I'm still in awe of the performances from these actors and what I feel is the show's way of nodding to us old school fans.)

#silvergifting #sauron #annatar #celebrimbor #rings of power spoilers #tolkien-meta #the rings of power #TROP

65 notes · View notes

akimoroll · 3 months ago

Text

giving in to the love.

chapter 2. everyone adores you (at least I do)

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x afab!reader—wc 3k—alternate universe—read on ao3

chapters 1 — 3 — 4 — 5

cw—mentions of abuse and death. alcoholism. smoking. fluff. angst. eventual smut. aged up characters with highschool flashbacks.

Everybody has you up on their wall sometimes

Everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night

When I say, "Everybody, " I'm actually referring to mе

Nagumo has always been observant. Whether he liked it or not, he just noticed things. So when he became aware of you and your gloomy demeanor, it was more of a ‘What’s wrong with her?’ than anything else.

You didn’t socialize with the class, you were always staring out the window or sneaking into the back of the school building or climbing up the rooftop with students from other classes.

He would see Aoi approach you every once in a while but you’d only give her half smiles and one word replies. This made group activities especially hard for you. Not until Nagumo’s parents took Rion in.

Rion was a month late but blended in with the class with ease. He noticed Rion and you started to click, being seatmates made it convenient.

In a few weeks, Nagumo noticed you were smiling and talking more but only with Rion. Then you slowly started to mingle with the other girls. It’s as if Rion was the bridge for you to connect with everyone until you were comfortable doing it with the whole class.

Nagumo didn’t really think much about it until you started coming to his house to hang out with Rion. He wasn’t the type to lounge around the living room, he’s always upstairs in his room or at basketball practice. But on days where he’s at home he started going downstairs more frequently.

There was one time while he was getting snacks from the fridge and he heard you laughing in the living room. Not giggle, not chuckle but a full blown laughter, it was almost unrecognizable. He was curious so he peeked. You and Rion were watching a movie and you looked so happy and he thought he’d want to see that again. He wanted to hear it again so he tried pulling jokes on you in school. He would tease Rion in front of you and then he started teasing you too, but it wasn’t working like he wanted to because you were getting annoyed with him. But he still liked it, it’s better than nothing, he thought. He enjoyed seeing different reactions from you.

However, something changed in him during his birthday in July after your classmates had already left. It was one of the hottest summer evenings and you were wearing a hoodie. He came out of the kitchen, leaving Rion and his mom alone to clean up because he wanted to check up on you. Well, it was more because he wanted to make fun of your fashion choices. He was so smug about it but you smiled so sweetly at him and said, “My mom hates me and I’m trying to hide that hate from everyone so they wouldn’t hate me too.”

His smile slowly dropped. What do you mean? is what he wanted to ask. But he realized how sad you were all the time and even though you’re doing better these days, your eyes still looked tired, like they’re always so far away. Like you’re physically here but your soul isn’t.

He shook his head, “Stop joking around like that,” letting out a fake chuckle.

“Do you want a birthday gift?” You asked softly.

His eyebrows knitted, “You already gave me one.”

“This one’s different,” you said.

Apart from Rion, Nagumo was always around you, trying to get a reaction from you. You’re not stupid, it was obvious how he was always trying to brighten up your day. He’s been taking down every brick from the wall you put up around you and you always wondered how it would be nice to open up to someone like him.

You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you just felt like you wanted him to take a look inside, just a little sneak peek. Maybe like a cry for help? Like, ‘I’m here! Someone’s still alive here!’ even if it’s just with him and this moment alone.

His eyes progressively widened as you took off your jacket, showing him black and blue patches all over your skin, some bigger and darker than the others. And just like any other gift that he had, he wanted to take care of it—to take care of you.

It made him want to protect you, no questions asked. But he didn’t want to pry any further so he just did his best to make your days better in his own little way. And until you let him in, he’d keep looking out for you.

⊹

“Hello?” Nagumo said, tilting his head, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.

He didn’t want to pick up but he’s been getting calls from the same unknown number for two days straight now and it’s getting annoying.

“Nagumo,” the man from the other line spoke.

He stopped what he’s doing, “Sakamoto?” now holding the phone with his hand, “You changed your number?”

“No, I borrowed Shin’s,” there was a long pause before saying your name, “You might wanna see her, next week.”

Nagumo paused, bewildered, “What? I don’t understand,” looking out the window of his hotel room.

“You heard me,” Taro said in a passive tone, “I know you’re busy but you should tie loose ends with her so you can finally carry on with your life.”

Nagumo hummed, his voice hesitant, “I don’t know, man,” he murmured.

“Up to you,” Taro said, “I’ll text you the details.”

Nagumo ended the call shortly after and booked the first flight to Tokyo the following day.

⊹

As soon as he enters the venue, he spots you sitting at the far end of the table. He could never mistake you, not for someone else. Even from a mile away, he’d know it’s you.

He stalls, hands in his pockets, watching you from afar—observing you. This might be the last.

After finally deciding to make his presence known, he crossed the room in confident strides. He automatically taunts Hyo—his voice still holding the same mischievous tone—just how you remember him.

Like the life of the party he is, he says hello to everyone—fist bumps, high fives and the like. He takes his time, pretending he’s not excited to see you. As if he wasn’t already losing his mind over it for the past week after Taro called—which he thankfully answered, because he usually doesn’t these days—telling him you might show up.

You could feel him getting closer to where you are. Hands fidgeting under the table, you start to question everything.

What if I make a fool of myself?

What if I say hi and he’s still mad at me?

Come on, it was a long time ago. We’re grown now.

But what if he ignores me?

Wait, was he mad back then? Fuck, I don’t remember shit.

I could use a stick right now but this will do. You gulp down the mug full of beer while his figure enters your peripherals.

“You’re here,” he smirks. Dying to keep his cool, he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

All the tension in your body leaves after hearing his voice. You turn to him, smiling, “I’m here,” you speak softly.

He remains still, gaze fixed on you. It’s as if everything around him starts to slow down after seeing your face light up.

You inwardly thank the alcohol for the natural blush. It would’ve been so obvious by the way he made your cheeks heat up. Has he always looked this good?

After witnessing your moment with Nagumo unfold before her, Osaragi whispers, “Hyo, do they have history?”

Shishiba who’s seated in between her and Hyo, “It’s rude to ask questions like that to a married man,” his voice low.

“That’s why I’m asking Hyo,” she deadpans.

“Nagumo,” Hyo’s voice cuts in, “I heard you got married.”

His tone provokes, “Did I, now?” Shamelessly staring at you. He looked so smitten, they all felt like they were interrupting something.

You turn your eyes away from him after hearing what Hyo just said.

Right, I shouldn’t be gawking at him like that.

⊹

As the night wears on, you keep catching him stealing glances at you, or is it him that’s caught you? Both preoccupied with their own little conversation—him with the boys and you with the girls—you wait for the right timing to talk to him alone.

I should apologize.

You have to, for you, to finally move on. It’s the least you could do for him too. You were young and naive—you were in so much pain and he was too but he was there for you; always looking out for you.

⊹

“What’s that?” Rion’s head popped behind you, “who’s that from?”

“I don’t know,” you said while looking at the ice pack and painkillers left in your locker. But you knew. You caught Nagumo looking numerous times in class. He pays attention to you. He always does.

He noticed the bruise on your cheek—your mom gave you the night before—despite wearing a facemask. He noticed your puffy eyes that morning and the hoodie you would wear when you’re trying to cover something up. He didn’t have it in him to ask you about it, he didn’t want to pry, but he knew.

You were too embarrassed to ask about his kind gesture and he didn’t mention it either. He was just being nice. That’s all there is to it.

⊹

“Mind if I sit here?” Placing his hands on your shoulders, Nagumo didn’t wait for you to answer. He gently motions you to scooch to the left and inserts himself in the space you give him.

His touch lingers as he starts conversing with Aoi and Taro with you stuck in the middle. His arm would brush against you every now and then, and you’d catch whiffs of his cologne. You were forced to sit in their conversation, nodding and smiling along quietly.

“How’s Hana doing?” Nagumo asks the couple.

Taro responds, “She started school recently. Shin and Lu are looking after her tonight.”

“Hey, Nagumo, why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” Aoi interrogates with a lighthearted tone. You take a quick look at his hand on the table, he does have a ring. He has tattoos now too.

He chuckles, “It was something spontaneous,” he paused, pondering, “and intimate.”

“Are you guys planning to have kids too?” She adds.

He tilts his head to the side as he answers, “We haven’t talked about it,” you look over to him with curiosity only for you to see that he’s already looking at you.

He averts his eyes to his drink, grinning, “My dream of forming a basketball team still stands, though.” You watch him chug his drink from the corners of your eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He joked about that a long time ago—he’s such a clown. You chuckle inwards, eyes distant, you wonder what he’d be like as a father. His wife must be so lucky to have someone as dependable as him, his children would absolutely love him and his shenanigans.

Nagumo mentions your name and you almost leap, “What about you? What are you up to these days?”

Just work—drowning myself with work so I don’t have to feel anything else outside of it. The pay is good, though. Which reminds me, I haven’t met new people recently. Not that I don’t have time, I just drink a lot these days at home. It used to be just weekends, and then I started picking up the habit even on weekdays. Mom died too and I don’t know what to feel about it. I’m tired, honestly—

“Just work,” you force a smile and drain your drink clean. You let out a satisfied ‘ah’.

The crowd from another booth were having a little too much to drink and started lifting their phones in the air, pointing the flashlights down to mimic a disco ball while one of them sang the karaoke. Everyone starts cheering with them as you sway discreetly along the music, grateful that the conversation was cut short.

A flash catches your eye, you grimace, squeezing eyes shut. Your heart starts to pick up.

Then another one—you start to feel lightheaded as the music starts to sound muffled and the clinking of utensils and glasses make you jumpy. Breathing becomes hard as you feel a fullness in your throat down to your chest.

And again—you start sweating, your clothes suddenly feel tight, the place starts to feel cramped like it’s closing in on you. It’s happening again.

Happy thoughts…

Your cat back home,

Just happy thoughts…

—and how she sleeps with her tongue slightly out.

Deep breaths…

You think about the sounds of crashing waves and the warm breeze blowing against your skin and how calming it is.

Relax…

And then the full view of the setting sun while you sit by the shore with your feet in the sand and wine in your hand.

Right, Boracay…

I need to go back there.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel it leaving you. Leaning closer to Aoi, “I’m gonna catch some fresh air real quick,” you whisper and she nods.

⊹

With your back leaning against the wall of an alleyway, you shiver while lighting up a cigarette. You fold your arms to keep yourself warm as you take quick long drags, burning half of the stick in an instant.

“That’s your idea of fresh air?” Nagumo walks up to you, hands in the pockets of his coat, grinning.

With a lighthearted scoff, “You smoke?” you offer him some as he stands beside you side by side.

Shaking his head, “Nah, but thanks.”

“Figures,” you take it back, shoving it in your coat pocket.

He shivers from the cold, leaning at the wall next to you, your sides brushing against each other, “You still haven’t quit that bad habit of yours,” he says as he tilts his head to look at the sky.

You smile, “Old habits die hard,” eyes distant.

He chuckles while pulling out a snack from the inside of his coat.

Eyes trailing to his wedding ring, you watch him open the packet, “I see you still got a sweet tooth,” averting your gaze.

In a smug tone, “It’s because I have taste,” he takes a bite, “even with bad habits.”

You both chuckle.

⊹

You were quietly giggling with Rion in their living room, accidentally mentioning Gaku—a boy from another class—out loud.

“Gaku? Really now?” Nagumo chimed in, shocked.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Rion scoffed, throwing a pillow at him.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug, “he’s your teammate, right?”

He shook his head from disbelief. You’re unbelievable, is what he wanted to say. But instead, “Your taste is interesting,” he continued scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, okay. I get it,” you walk up to him as he lies on the couch, an eyebrow raised, “Let’s talk about your taste then.”

You nod to him, crossing your arms, standing directly in front of him, “Get up.”

He got up, towering over you, “I’m up,” smirking.

You glared at him—

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Rion said, pulling you both to sit, “this is not a contest of bad tastes,” she and Nagumo snickered.

You scoffed and was so ready to speak but you couldn’t even name one person that you think he likes. Thinking back, girls would be all over him but you’ve never seen him flirting back or be around one. Well, except you, but you’re out of the equation.

Nagumo sighed, standing up, “This is stupid,” he walks out, “I’m gonna go do homework.”

You and Rion followed him with your eyes.

“He’s moody these days. Don’t mind him,” said Rion.

⊹

“How are you not drunk yet?” Nagumo asks, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I saw you getting refills like it’s water.”

Like mother, like daughter, I guess?

You tilt your head to the side, shrugging, voice smug, “I look up to my mom a lot,” taking a long drag from your now second stick.

“Dark,” he says, fakely reprimanding you.

He made you spend almost half an hour in the alleyway catching up with him, ‘I’m trying to sober up’ he said. Until there wasn't anything to talk about anymore. You were both silent for a moment.

“You still have them?” He asks abruptly, his voice gentle.

Feigning ignorance, “Have what?” you answer.

He paused before speaking, “Panic attacks.”

You breathe deeply, “Sometimes,” eyes faraway, “but not as bad as before.”

Nagumo nods slowly, both of you thinking about the elephant in the room.

“Look,” the two of you utter in unison.

Both startled, you face each other, “You first,” in unison again, making both of you cackle.

“Ladies first,” he says, nodding to you.

Your expression softens, eyes apologetic, “I know it’s long overdue but I wanted to say sorry… for everything.”

His brows knit, “No, no, I should be the one apologizing—”

“Look, you were just trying to be nice,” you cut him off, “and I was mean. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“You were going through something,” he leans on the wall on his back, eyes distant.

“You were too, and that’s not a reason to treat people like shit, Yoichi.”

Silence.

“Just apologize about Gaku and we can call it quits.”

You squint, puzzled by the mention of his name.

With a growing grin, he waits for your reaction. Then it hits you, you burst out laughing and he watches you—eyes crinkled, head tilted to the sky, a hand hovering your mouth—his heart swells from the sound of your laughter.

“I can’t believe you picked a fight with him,” you shake your head, “and in an official game too, with other schools watching.” You laugh again.

“Well,” tilting his head from side to side, “It was partly your fault,” he snickers.

Your mouth falls open, a smile creeping in, “I wasn’t the one who busted your lip,” you hit his arm lightly.

Nagumo looks at your lips and back to your eyes in an instant, “He was your boyfriend, so…” he trails off.

You groan, “He wasn’t,” rolling your eyes, you sigh, “It’s crazy how I used to chase guys who doesn’t give a fuck about me.” You chuckle.

He hums, “Mhm,” it left a bitter taste on his tongue.

You avoid his gaze, fishing your pocket for another cigarette. You were staring at each other for a moment too long and it felt like he wanted to say something and you know exactly what it is.

[chapter 3 →]

#🕷️.fic—nagumo #nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi fanfic #nagumo yoichi x reader #nagumo yoichi x you #sakamoto days fanfic #nagumo x you #nagumo yoichi #sakamoto days #nagumo

44 notes · View notes

bonefall · 1 year ago

Note

but what makes characters like fallenleaf and bb!brokenstar redeemable?

Choice. They were stripped of their power, put through extreme circumstances, and then made the choice to leave their violent histories behind them.

And you will note that it's VERY rare that I show these types of characters being redeemed. There's two 'redemptions' in a very long history of tyrants. Tigerstar, Dalestar, Skystar, Ashfur, Darktail, One Eye, Leopardstar, Mudclaw, Thistlestar technically if he had become leader. 2 out of 10 is a very small ratio.

(and fallenleaf isn't really 'redeemed' in my mind, so much as she simply stopped being a tyrant. There is no way for her to ever make up for what she did and that is a part of her character.)

And of them, Skystar is the worst individual. By far. He has no reason to want to change, nor would he ever. He loves power too much. He would look for it anywhere he went, because he hates listening to anyone tell him what to do. Having this is important to him than anything.

BB!Brokenstar is so different he's not a great comparison to Skystar, imo. He's a protector spirit, the embodiment of SkyClan's fallen 5th oak tree, and basically the logical conclusion of the "might makes right" mindset that defines Clan Culture in his era. So his redemption in finding his place as SkyClan's guardian is basically about "righting a cosmic wrong," and putting the magic to rest in its rightful place.

Brokey's a mortal when he takes the shape of one, but the story I'm trying to tell with him is that fury, righteous love, and protectiveness have their place. He comes to understand that as he watches SkyClan form, and realize that no matter how different they are from the toxic culture he was born into and molded by, he loves them, and he needs them to become what they want to be.

THIS is what that fury is for. To kill the rats and defend the besieged Clan, so they can live freely while he slumbers.

Fallenleaf's a better comparison. Both she and Skystar wanted to forcefully remake society in their own images, and would brutalize anyone who didn't live up to their strict standards.

(contrast to BB!Brokenstar who strategically took out only two cats. Raggedstar and Marigoldkit. He actually limited violence against his own Clan.)

But Fallenleaf and Skystar are very different people. Fallenleaf did what she did out of strict, obsessive dedication to the Code. She was fueled by what she'd been taught by Bramblestar, allowing Ashfur to physically abuse Lionpaw "for his own good." That you have to hurt what you love to protect it.

Still; I very much made it intentional that her punishment is SO harsh. The Lake cats HATED her. She ruined everything and she knows it. Sol gets bored of her, steals her body, and leaves her stranded 100 years in the past. She's forced to stay in those tunnels and cling to the mortal plane, just thinking about her family to keep her tethered, as civilizations rise and fall outside.

Now back in her home, she's almost unrecognizable. She's traveled so far and lost so much, and been forced to sit with her shame for a very long time. Not even StarClan is old enough to remember her crimes; and it's she alone who carries that burden. It's a weight she chooses to carry, to remind her of the worst version of herself. Something she could become again, if she isn't careful.

BB!Skystar's a venerated founder.

Nearly everything he did in life was to serve his own ends, his own ego, and he's lauded for that. His followers ate up his excuses like slop. He built the battle culture the Clans would come to know, by making a move to crush anything that mildly offended him

Of course he's not going to regret shit. Power gets him everything he wants. He's got a circling entourage of sycophants to tell him how smart and strong he is all the time, droves of warriors who pray to him for strength in battle, all of his enemies in life are now forced to treat him like a god-among-gods in heaven. And this is exactly the way he likes it.

Man got away with it, over and over. He collects his reward every starry night.

Any time where he WOULD be threatened with having his power taken away, he would simply gaslight/gatekeep/girlboss his way back to the top. What? You gonna stop him? He will kill you and then frame your murder like a grand triumph over the Great Unfairness of the world. He has the most prey in the forest. He has the strongest cats in the land. What are you, to him, besides an angry squirrel chattering atop the branch?

Why would he ever choose to be different? He wouldn't. Power gets him what he wants, and he loves getting what he wants.

#bone babble #better bones au

101 notes · View notes

mihai-florescu · 28 days ago

Note

Reading your enstars instagram post and man. I am so sorry. I am glad you can still find comfort in the old stories, i know i do. (Atp enstars only exists in the internet archives to me lol). Like you said, not everything after !-era is bad but damn if it hasn't been getting steadily worse. Awful to see something you once loved and held dear morphing into something else entirely. Not gonna lie, i'm almost scared to keep up with any stories releasing after this considering how much they have already made it obvious that they don't care. I don't wanna see the story get butchered anymore than this.

Unfortuantely, they probably won't go eos until they've milked every last penny out of the franchise. By that point i think enstars will be unrecognizable compared to what it had been in the past.

My only hope is that i've seen people specualting that this event wasn't written by akira and if that's the case i do hope akira manages to fight back and get his story back.

Also hi this is cookie btw i just moved bc i can't look at my enstars blog for the mean time

Hii, ive actually been talking about this all day with various friends, some more some less involved in enstars... i think it's everyone's right to distance themselves from something that doesnt spark joy anymore and has let them down. I will focus my reads on mostly ! era stuff but until it shuts down i will keep an eye out on the releases. I cant imagine a world where enstars is still going and i dont at least know the overview of whats going on.

As youve been on twt too, im sure you mightve seen that some of the critiques people are bringing now just to jump on the Hating Everything Enstars are stupid. Im thinking about the buddhism and christianity tweet in particular coming from someone who genuinely seems like they havent read many stories lawl. Theres a difference between actual problems and personal dissatisfactions that things arent the way you want them to be for various personal reason. People should learn their singular experience isnt universal, and characters in a story dont aim to speak for a universal experience either. It's not bad writing for a hidden christian in japan to behave differently from a canadian one, or for eichi to joke around with his childhood friend who happens to be buddhist. Anyway. I will always defend the parts of enstars i think were genuinely good, even if im getting worse at expressing myself in speech.

Anyhow... i dont want to speculate on internal problems but i really do wonder how much of this current direction was akira's choice and how much was happyele. He is no longer one of the only 2 writers (and main one, at that), i wouldnt be surprised if he doesnt have as much influence anymore. We know that in the beginning of es2 he expressed concern that everyone in happyele is insane...lol. He's not a perfect writer but the soul of enstars was brought by him.

Well, as i said, i dont want to speculate anything. I wish to not see so much negativity even on things that dont deserve hate, but ive always had issues with other fans' uninformed reactions. That'll never change even as enstars self destructs more and more. I can hold contempt for both the company and such fans, while treasuring the meaningful parts of the story and its impact on my life going forward too♡ ah my dear story that shouldve been a niche vn with a cult following of few but passionate fans instead of a gacha game gone stale disappointing old fans in pursuit of new ones with gimmicky shock writing...

#ask #periquartz

19 notes · View notes

soraviie · 2 years ago

Text

they told you to go and you did.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: heavy angst ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ c/w: mention of mental illness, implied emotional cheating, falling out of love, smoking

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: If you'd still talk, you'd ask him if "disappointment" is the right word. It's not pain. It's actually hard to describe what is this familiar pang, the stab that almost feels like a bruise made yesterday. It's not pain. It's the sad realization in your heart of hearts that this would happen eventually. It's a disappointment because once, just this once you allowed yourself to believe it'd be different. And you were wrong. Or rather you were right all along. He's just like that and you're you and the rest is a story that writes itself.

Picking yourself up is hard work, hence perhaps why they call it falling for someone. Falling is not a threat, people fall all day long but a fall from the last step of stairs no matter how scary is not lethal but falling in love, unlike a blunder through the dark, is getting up into a skyscraper and then placing all the trust that the other person will provide a mat big enough to cushion the fall. But he had pulled your safety net away. You'll rebuild yourself, from scratch if needed but some part of your trust in all people will forever be cracked. If a forever person becomes temporary...it's a bizarre, ungainly feeling that unevens your footing and makes for many, many quiet afternoons spend in the company of your lonesome, staring out through the windows and thinking was it always meant to end like this.

"You were supposed to be there," you breathed out, shaking. Out of anger, out of cold, who knows.

"And I said I'm sorry," he growls back, shoving the laying laundry into the washing machine.

"Sorry? "Sorry" is not going to cut it! For weeks - weeks! - I've asked you, I begged you to be there! It was one of the most important events in my life!"

"What do you want me to do here?" Namjoon asks, exasperated and the wrinkle between his eyebrows mars his features into someone...unrecognizable. A stranger almost. Since when have you had to beg to be heard?

"I don't know," you reply truthfully but slowly something in your gut begins to work. Why are you feeling like the villain? You shouldn't be.

You shouldn't be is the chief thought.

"Do you even care about me?"

"What?"

The look in his eyes...you know, you just know, he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand this profound feeling of being tired. Being proven right that, in the end, you will always have this - begging to be heard and understood and it's tiring. It's draining the soul right in front of his eyes, ones which do not see the obvious.

"Do you even care about me?"

He scoffs.

"Take a walk so you clear your head and don't ask stupid questions."

In hindsight, a very small part of you is grateful. The comment was cruel and cut like the end of a sharpened knife but it gave you a leeway. It gave you the thought that if you had to go, you didn't have to come back.

And it's like a bit of fresh air after that. Dizzying, confusing, the feeling of being lost in a way never leaving but you're finding your legs so to speak. You didn't owe him anything, there is no legal law that would force you to explain. You walked right out. A walk to never return, a walk to self re-discovery. You eat what you like, you go where you like and when you feel like dying because there your lover is not on the other side of the bed, you turn around and pretend he was never there.

He was after all rarely there, to begin with.

Right or wrong, who cares, you could just leave and while you're alone, at least you don't have to beg. At least, you understand even if it's yourself.

YOONGI: Lillies, as Yoongi finds out, are not long-lived flowers. They fall most often in clumps of petals. Not elegant and refined like those in drawings but dropping almost half of themselves in one swift move. In one second, losing nearly all they had, remaining then barren and partly lifeless. He didn't know enough about flowers to know when exactly are they pronounced dead. But he'll be here. He'll be here because he's done nothing else but watch them shed, clump by clump.

"I told you," he'd said with a smile of all things. A cold, mirthless smile but still. "I told you it'd be hard, that you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"That's...that's not it all," you deny and maybe you hadn't been lying. All he knows is that the fear had gripped him so hard he couldn't even breathe then.

"No, it is what it is," he'd cut back sharply, decisive, leaving no room to argue because if you'd argue you'd do the same magic you'd done when he first fell in love, he'd listen and do everything exactly how you want it. He didn't want to listen at that moment, he'd just wanted to be angry.

"Then go, just go. Go back 'cause I know you want to."

Tears rose on your waterline and suddenly he felt like a bad guy which in turn, of course, made him more vicious.

"You're being cruel," you breathed faintly. "You're just being cruel."

He scoffed harshly.

"I'm just being honest. Face it, you can't handle being with me," a pause. Critical hit. Cruelty for cruelty's sake. "You can't handle much at all."

And if he had even a little bit of a brain left he'd see the change. The exact moment where you fell out of love with him and it happened just then.

You took a step back, breathed in exactly once, calmly, sombre even.

"Okay," is all you said and unbeknownst to him, that would end up as the last thing you'd say to him. "Okay" is what could kill love - a supposedly unkillable thing.

The flowers are what he brought to ask for forgiveness which would not be granted. There was no next time, no do over, no apology. You'd been long gone when he wisened up to his own words and now he has a vase of old Lillies, wilting on his desk. He reaches to straighten one of the last petals but in its frailty, it just falls. It falls down, down, down and lands on his desk. He puts his hand away. The clock ticks away.

"Okay," he mutters to himself and then sinks into silence.

JIN: "They're my parents," he says for the thousandth time, driving half-blind through the dark.

"So what?!" you exclaimed. "They don't get to say all those things about my family. About me!"

"And I already told you, I warned you that they...they would be like that! They're old! Different."

"That's not being different! That's being a dick."

His eyes glinted and you flinched. You'd never fought with Jin before. Not like this certainly. But whenever you thought of forgiving him, it all came back even clearer. How he just stood there, silent, staring at his plate like a small boy would when they called you a gold digger, your family nothing but mud-trodden scammers. The spoilt rotten apple of the bad seeds. And your lover, your boyfriend, your one true fairytale prince had bowed his head in compliance.

"Careful," he growls, hands tightening around the wheel. "Mind your tongue."

He could slap you and it'd be less bitter.

"Did your mother mind your tongue?" you asked sharply, suddenly yanked harshly forth as he drove a foot through the brakes.

"I'll give you this one last opportunity," he spits and it awakens a heinous part of yourself. Or rather it extends. It extends from the scenery of not even an hour into the past, when you'd sat by the dining table listening to one hurled insult after the next. His father had been "the others", his mother and now he himself. It's him vs you. And that's...

...that's just not someone you could ever touch without shuddering in hate.

"One last chance to stop throwing a fuss. To stop disrespecting my family and myself."

"I can't disrespect it," you open your mouth, weirdly proud. It's cathartic to hate at times. "It would imply I've held any this evening."

His jaw makes an audible sound when it clamps shut. You'd hurt deep, you'd cut it where it hurts. Good, so had he.

"Get out," he hisses, clearly fighting hard to reign in his temper. "Get out of my car now!"

You do and afterwards, he speeds off, tires screeching against the cement road, fumes, in time, evaporating into the atmosphere. You touch the necklace, his gift, on your neck. Feels more like a chain now. You take it away, frown and allow yourself to think.

Gold diggers, scammers, evildoers and nothing but lowlier of the low they had said into your face. You remember your own mother's face, proud and happy, then tired after working long hours just to put food on the table. She'd be heartbroken about this, she'd cry.

And no one could ever make your mother cry. Guided by a sudden impulse you throw the necklace away and it glistens once under the streetlights.

Jin's car disappears over the horizon and despite lingering, you see no point in going after it. You could go home.

The thought fills you with comfort.

You could just go home.

Your mother picks up after one ring.

"Hey, I'm just letting you know, I'll sleep over, is that okay?"

Your mother's voice comes frazzled but she attempts to make it soothing. No, she should never meet those people. Those people who would hate her without a reason, who raised a son you fell in love with. Past tense.

"Of, course, it's okay," then, softly, cautious. "Did it go awry? What about your boyfriend?"

You glimpse over your shoulder. JIn is long gone. There's nothing but the dark so you turn and walk the opposite way.

"There's no boyfriend anymore," you reply, cooly but even so few, traitor tears rush into your eyes and it gets hard to breathe. "But I still got you."

"The porch lights will be on," after a moment she explains kindly and you nod. "I'll be waiting."

HOSEOK: "I just think...this will be the best of us."

That's really all you remember. At the time, the words fell distant like coming from another room. His damn present, a simple present you'd saved over the course of the summer was burning against your leg, distracting you, maybe saving you in a way. If you'd heard a flaw he had named as to why would you deserve to suddenly be broken up with, you didn't remember it. He'd been doing so well, being so good, practising and making history and you loved him so much you just wanted to make him smile. He'd been so stressed. So empty and removed. And when you heard his call, his tentative invitation to a restaurant you thought must be destiny, he must be thinking it too, you needed to be closer together. Reality... the reality was as always much different than you imagined in your head.

You'd sat politely, being really good, not quite listening due to the bracelet sitting in your pocket like a carcass, but you hadn't made a fuss. Should you have? Or did you do the right thing?

Whatever should or should not have happened will take place in the multiverse, in the infinitude of other more pleasant realities, this one was yours.

"You should cry," your friend suggests, with a frown of worry. But you can't hear her also. Flinging the pillows left and right, you try to find the damn thing. The receipt is nowhere. You couldn't have just flung it into the trash, right?

"Honestly, fuck this guy."

Right, fuck Hoseok. But when you remember him, you don't suddenly learn how to hate him. That was...that went against everything you knew.

"Just please go," he pleaded, you'd open your mouth to at least give him the bracelet. It was after all a present. Why had you been so hyper-focused about it? You can't remember that also.

"Just go. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

But what it did have to be? What did you do? Or not do? What was so wrong with you that he kicked you away?

"He left you for his career," your friend scoffed. Her pride was your pride and vice versa but at the moment you couldn't even appreciate her indignance. The receipt was gone. You did not have it. And as such the bracelet, his bracelet, the one you worked so had to buy for your own money, could not be ridden of.

"Plain and simple. You were distracting him, whatever that means. What a prick."

You had not thought the same then and you didn't think it now. Coming to a stand you wonder how long will it take to unlearn someone. Hoseok must have learned it quite quickly. He'd not even spared you a glimpse as you stood there, with the bracelet in hand, suddenly turned into a parting gift not one of gratitude. If he saw it, he hadn't cared. And so you went, as he asked, clutching the bracelet in your palm. Hoseok must be a quick learner, you reckoned, leaving the bracelet to lay on your nightstand table.

JIMIN: "Already back?" a neighbour, a smarmy twenty-something who thinks he's just the thing because he has a couple of tattoos on his arm, asks. You light up the cigarette already put between your lips and scoff in his direction.

"Yeah. Now quit hanging around in the stairway, you look like a predator," with that you enter your apartment. It's disgusting to smoke indoors, that you admit, but right now it was time to think and smoking for some reason made your head clearer. Navigating through the dark, you stumbled out into the balcony, breathing out a sigh of relief. Flicking the ash into the makeshift ashtray you thought and thought and thought.

"When?! When will you be ready?!" he'd practically screamed. You hated when people raised their voice and he knew that but he still did it. A fact you wouldn't forgive anyone but this was...Jimin and he'd been the exception for a long time. Longer than he should have.

"I don't know! When we got together, I told you I'd be difficult! I'm...ill!" recalling how your lip had wobbled, you sneered to yourself. One cigarette down but you bought a new pack so there was plenty.

"Stop using that as an excuse!" he'd snarled, fists curling out of anger. You had thought then that if he truly wanted to marry you, he'd stay true to his word to be understanding. Of understanding that your mind did not always work the same way most people were used to, it did things, often ones you couldn't grasp full control of, like fear, fearing everything and most of all being yelled at for this very same fear.

"It's not an excuse!" you shrieked. "It's the answer! When someone has a cold, do you reprimand them for coughing? Why is this illness any different?!"

You were objectively hard to love if mental illness was easy it wouldn't be an illness. You required work, work done by yourself and by your partner and you had told him that, you'd told him fair and square, come clean with all that you were and Jimin had promised to love you all the same. He was, it seems, a beautiful kind of liar.

"You won't ever be ready," he'd continued, a hard scowl warping his features. "You know why? Because you hate yourself so much you can't even wrap your head around the idea of not self-sabotaging yourself for once."

And it was the truth. Objectively speaking. But you didn't mind the truth. It could be harsh and unapologetic but you could swallow it down, just not cruelty. Anything but cruelty. Coming from the one man on earth you thought could not be cruel. See what you meant by beautiful? Beautiful, convincing, angel of a liar.

"And I can't handle it anymore. I can't handle your..." he raised his hands out of frustration, letting the fists rise to his own chest and shake there before it happened.

"You're just too much. So just go away because you're just too much for me."

Pushing the bud of the cigarette against the glass jar, you put out the last light on the balcony. It's dark now and you sit, arms crossed, still thinking. You know what to do, you'd done it plenty of times before but...you just thought, you assumed, had the delusion that..he'd be the one, you know. That he'd be...different. But the nature of liars is to lie, you suppose.

TAEHYUNG: It is sad and horrifying to realize that you're becoming one of those couples. Those couples that do not talk, that sit on the bed silently and sullenly, waiting for it to be over, couples who did not touch each other, who forgot each other's bodies, voices and minds. Those couples who you always looked on with pity, wondering to yourself why didn't they just break it off. What was the point?

But the point was that, of course, once upon a time you loved Taehyung and you think he loved you too. You almost saw him, the younger him, the one that charmed you with the promise of timeless romance only to let the very same time deteriorate it away. As you walked up to the cafe, you saw him there, laughing with a friend you did not know he had. They're both laughing in fact, clearly enjoying their time and you can't help but feel like a creep, like an onlooker peeking into the lives of a happy couple even if it's your boyfriend sitting there. He'd brought them flowers. You don't remember when was the last time he'd given your flowers. The promise was every Wednesday, the reality was sometimes after the first six months, anniversaries after two years, never after five.

He pulls the chair closer to the friend. You saw the other person's blush in the candlelight and then with even more horrifying realization, you grasp that you're the other person. The one brushed to the side when they're of no other use.

"Those are pretty flowers," you reckoned, mostly just to start a conversation. An ice breaker for a lover, strange isn't it?

"I guess," he offers a non-committal grunt.

"Should I meet you after work? We could go somewhere?" you almost sounded hopeful then. How naive.

"Don't bother," he says, not quite even looking at you, more so focused on the mirror to fix the tie the other other person was twirling between their fingers. "I'll be busy and late tonight. Just go home."

Standing on the street and passively watching your love slip away, you figure you'll do just that. You won't be one of those people, you thought, standing straighter and leaving the window side, you won't cry yourself to sleep, you won't find someone else's scent on his shirt, you won't have your heart any more broken. You'll just go home.

And Taehyung was not home anymore.

But it's okay, you tell yourself, stumbling unsteadily through the neon-lit streets, you'll find a new one. You'll be okay.

JUNGKOOK: You used to love his jokes, his confidence, his assuredness that you were meant to be. But after some time, you don't quite know when, it stopped being funny the way he brushed off your worries, always so assured that in the end, it'll work out. That no matter what you'll forgive him anything.

You stopped loving his jokes.

And you stopped loving his confidence.

And you stopped loving him.

You just wanted for him to listen but he was so smug, so assured that you wouldn't leave. You just wanted for him to listen just once.

But he never did.

"If I'm so horrible, then just leave," he tossed over his shoulder, tugging harshly on Bam's leash. "Just leave!"

But he did it first, slamming the door behind and dragging Bam with him.

Maybe it's selfish, really childish, quite unhealthy but in a way also victorious. You drag your clumsily arranged suitcase, stubborn. You miss him. But a him that's not even here. Can a person die while still living?

But even if it's selfish, childish and unhealthy, it becomes easier with the next step. You're just leaving, just going. You still miss him, you miss Bam and others, and all the funny toys on his shelves, and his kitchen towels and the laughter on Fridays and movies on Mondays but even more you miss yourself. The street is long and you wonder where you'll end up next, once upon a time, it brought you to Jungkook and now it'll take you away from him. You can find plenty of sadness about it but not enough regret to turn around. Whoever's fault it was, even if it truly was a fault, it doesn't matter now. It's over, it was good for a while and now it's over. You're free to go where you want and so is Jungkook and when enough time passes you know you'll wish him nothing but the best.

459 notes · View notes

weirdmarioenemies · 1 year ago

Text

Name: Mr. Chicken

Debut: Rhythm Heaven Megamix

The year is unknown. The world as we know it is unrecognizable. Ocean now covers nearly all of the planet's surface, and the remaining landmasses jut sharply upward, connected only by brittle stone bridges, if anything. And yet, despite all this...

This chicken bought himself an electric car, and he's ready to take it for a ride!

Mr. Chicken is the star of Charging Chicken, which is a game of chicken! You know, like, trying to get as close as possible to something without going over? I don't actually know why that's called chicken. Hold on, I have to look something up.

Ah! It is called that because the original game of chicken involved two drivers driving right toward each other, where one or both must swerve away, or risk crashing. If only one swerves, that driver is the Chicken, in the "coward" sense of the word. I would not call avoiding a car crash cowardly, but I cannot speak for people who would intentionally drive toward each other in cars! This does not help the reputation of the humble chicken.

Thankfully, Mr. Chicken is not driving into head-on traffic. Unfortunately, he is driving toward a landmass only a few feet wide, with a drop straight down into the ocean on the other side. Why is he doing this? Is he stupid? Yeah, I think so.

I don't know if Mr. Chicken is a terrible driver, his car is terribly designed, or both! The moment it finishes charging, it immediately zooms straight at full speed, so either it drives recklessly on its own until it runs out of fuel, or this chicken has the gas pedal slammed down to the floor at ALL times. I would not put it past him.

All this is bad enough, and that's without even mentioning that chickens barely have any depth perception! That's why they (and other prey birds) bob their heads while they walk- the things that they see will appear to move at different speeds depending on how far from the eyes they are! Delightfully, Mr. Chicken DOES indeed bob his head rapidly while driving, so at least he's trying, I guess. But if there is anything you take from this post, I hope it is that a chicken would not be good at driving a car.

Nevertheless, THIS chicken has his driver's license, somehow. And we get to hear his own thoughts about it!

"I've been driving for almost three years now. I get pulled over all the time, and I keep expecting a police officer to comment on my license picture--I look so good!"

I am happy he is proud of his photo. I'm sure it looks great, I always love looking at a photo of a chicken. I even included one in this post! They are so fun to look at. But getting pulled over all the time? I am disappointed in him! I don't feel comfortable with such a reckless driver on the road! If only he would change his ways, but that is surely too much to expect...

"When my safe driving record got me the gold driver's license, I asked if I could keep my same picture. It's such a cute picture of me!"

Wow! He changed his ways, despite me not having faith in him! It turns out even a digital chicken has the capacity to change. I am proud of him! This is now a chicken who all drivers should aspire to be like, in terms of both safety and self-love!

The non-Japanese versions of the game feature this, quite frankly, sick mural of Mr. Chicken and his car at the end of Machine Remix! I don't think this is his own garage, since there is a whole Car Guy character that this stage is hosted by, so maybe he's a beloved customer, and became a sort of mascot. He probably crashes enough cars to keep a repair shop in business!

There is even more to Mr. Chicken but I don't feel like writing anymore! Check out this official comic if you want to see some rooster heterosexuality.

#mr. chicken #mr chicken #charging chicken #rhythm heaven #rhythm heaven megamix #not mario #mod chikako #funky friday

145 notes · View notes

humdinky · 1 year ago

Text

hey all! i just wanted to take a minute to stand on my little soap box and tell you about a manga i picked up last december. it has gotten much more attention since then, but i'd still like to throw my thoughts into the mix.

on the surface, the summer hikaru died explores a pretty common horror trope: what if a person you loved changed into something unrecognizable? do you reject them, or try to connect to the person that they have become? of course, this fear is twisted into something more threatening in a supernatural horror format. what if they literally died and came back as something else that could potentially harm you and your family?

we follow two teenage boys: yoshiki and his best friend (and one sided crush) hikaru, who goes missing in the mountains for a week and miraculously reappears unscathed. he looks the same as ever, but yoshiki can tell that what came back is no longer the hikaru that he once knew. now, yoshiki must come to grips with the fact that something sinister has taken over his friend’s body - and that it has a strong attachment to him.

that's the basic premise, but this manga is still ongoing and there are plenty of different directions it could take. if you haven't read it yet, it's worth experiencing firsthand. beyond the body horror are themes of grief and repressed homosexuality, as well as subtext to read into. i'm not going to be spoiling any explicit plot details, but i'd encourage you to stop reading this and go check it out if a bl manga with gorgeous art, toxic but engaging romance, and body horror sounds appealing to you.

the first thing you'll notice about this manga is that *chef's kiss* gorgeous art! it is uncanny, as you would expect, but it is drawn with so much care. the heavily detailed background art and visual horror create a rather oppressive atmosphere. the author also really excels at conveying character emotions through facial expressions, and there's a lot of very subtle bits of information that you can pick up from them.

being a body horror manga, this aspect is of course given extra care. when it gets supernatural, it takes on an oddly surreal quality. i'd even say that the transformations of hikaru take on an air of eroticism. that sounds out of place, but the author understands that the line between fear and attraction is thin. there is one scene in particular that would be very sexual if not for the absolute nightmare scenario unfolding before my eyes.

one of my favorite things about this manga is the confidence the author has in the reader. yoshiki having had feelings towards' the previous hikaru is never outright stated, it's just assumed that the reader will pick up on it. the village yoshiki lives in views homosexuality as some kind of curse, and the insecurity this creates in him is shown very subtly. the camera's gaze and the little things he says all convey this, like his apparent guilt over staring at hikaru shown through the shadow on his face. his fear of and attraction to hikaru's transformations also conveys this idea. he's also coping with grief in an unhealthy manner, and this is shown through the almost experimental way he's sometimes drawn. but yoshiki is not the only important character, and hikaru also has some depth. his character is harder to parse, but there's more to him lurking below the surface. he's more delicate than his outgoing demeanor would suggest. hell, it's understandable - being a literal monster means his position in yoshiki's life is extremely tenuous. our two main characters form a codependent relationship based on a fear of being alone, something very human and compelling in a messy sort of way.

something that i do not see being brought up quite as much is how tshd uses horror elements to discuss the fears around coming out and dealing with same-sex attraction. so much of hikaru’s internal struggle is such a wonderful metaphor. many of the moments between him and yoshiki serve as a dual narrative - the surface-level narrative but also this very delicate story about two boys from a rural village who realize they have feelings for one another. the whole story in fact is one giant metaphor for dealing with the anxiety losing who you thought you were and embracing concrete truths about sexuality and love.

overall it left me with some very strong first impressions. it is both an excellent horror manga and a nuanced exploration of loss and sexuality. i also find it very refreshing that their relationship isn’t built on any sort of deception or lies, and that yoshiki is aware that he’s an imposter, just not the extent of what exactly he is or what is happening in the town.

#the summer hikaru died #hikaru ga shinda natsu #hgsn #tshd #txt #manga #shounen ai #bl manga #manga recommendation #lgbtq #gay #horror #romance #certainly brings a new meaning to 'exploring each others bodies'#when im in a who loses his head first competition and my oponent is a gay white haired dude 😨

102 notes · View notes

akirakirxaa · 4 months ago

Text

FFXIVWrite Prompt 22: Free Day

Rating: T

Word Count: 786

Summary: G'raha finds Hades. He decides it's time for them to finally, actually talk. [OT4 verse, continuation of a couple of other entries, extremely rough cause there's a lot more I wanted to talk about but I'm trying to hit the deadline. Eventually this will be a longfic I promise lol.]

[Master Post]

The ruins of Garlemald never got any easier to see.

Despite the efforts by the survivors of the final days combined with Zenos' madness, most of the city still lied in rubble; aggressive, out of control magitech crept around every corner, waiting to catch some poor soul off guard. It was no wonder that the reconstruction efforts had been so slow, considering the danger and the ominous tower that still loomed in place of the royal palace.

G'raha knew he was more than a match for any machine, but rather than fight, he had cast a Vanish spell over himself, passing easily through the ruined streets. He was too concerned that, should he take too long cutting a path with a blade or magic, that Hades would move on to somewhere else, and at this point, where would he go? No, best to make good time and catch him here.

It wasn't long before G'raha was skirting around the edges of the former palace. Surely Hades would find nothing nostalgic or comforting inside the now-twisted structure, so. Somewhere outside, perhaps. He knew from Akira that Hades hated the cold (an irony that was not lost on him) so the idea of him being outside, at night, in the Garlean chill was somewhat ludicris, but G'raha had no other leads to go on.

It wasn't long before he found a grand, wrought iron gate, metal twisted by something large, though whether it was machine or one of the beasts from the Final Days was impossible to guess. G'raha carefully stepped around the metal and, beyond, found piles of rubble tossed about haphazardly, making the purpose of the land almost unrecognizeable if not for the small remnants here and there of what were clearly grave markers.

And, amid the settled chaos of what was once likely a lovely little courtyard, G'raha saw a familiar, white haired figure standing before a conspicuously untouched gravestone, grander than any of the remnants he had passed. Wandering closer, he could just make out the name through the dark and snowfall — LUCIUS YAE GALVUS. G'raha dispelled his Vanish, making sure to step heavily into some snow, the ice crunching under his boots to announce his presence.

"Your…son?" He ventured, and Hades gave a single, curt nod without turning to face him.

"I suppose he was, in a way," he mumbled. The silence stretched for a moment before G'raha prodded again.

"Your first-born, if I remember right."

"As Solus, aye. He was… He deserved better than an empire birthed to sow chaos," Hades tried to cover what may have been a sniffle behind clearing his throat. G'raha resisted the urge to glance at him, doing his best to keep him from feeling interrogated.

"Why come here, then?"

"…When he was born…There are precious few times over the years where I had any semblance of happiness, but…that was one," Hades ran a hand through his hair. "I almost let myself believe things could be different, even. But… Then he died."

"I'm sorry," G'raha shrugged his shoulders up against a sudden gust of wind. "What of his mother?" Hades gave a humorless chuckle.

"A familiar soul. It soothed but it wasn't enough."

"By familiar, you mean…?"

"Does that upset you, to know? That she was…" Hades trailed off, still just as lost in the gravestone before them. G'raha took a small sidestep closer.

"No. She has no control over what her past lives did," G'raha reasoned.

"True. And if it's any consolation, if she'd been born to a more supportive family, in a better situation, she likely would have been just as much of a headache as she's ever been," the grousing was eased by the smallest of smirks. Hades finally tore his eyes away from the headstone, fixing G'raha with a not-quite glare. "Why are you here?"

"Akira didn't want you to leave," G'raha began, his turn to uncomfortably stare into the snowy darkness and rubble around them. "And I… I share just as much blame for her frustrations. I haven't given you a fair chance, at any point. Despite the fact that she would not be alive if not for you."

"Well, it's about time," Hades huffed, but it lacked the usual bite. "I suppose I've also been less than charitable towards you as well. Hanging onto old rivalries and such." G'raha smirked.

"Well, this all could only be expected. You did try to kill me."

"If I were trying to kill you, you would have been dead," Hades' voice was lighter. When G'raha turned to look at him, he found Hades was watching him in turn, perhaps both waiting for the other shoe to drop and spells to start flying.

#ffxiv #emet-selch #g'raha tia #verse: a single wish #ship: comfort and chaos #exselch #emetraha #i mean in progress they're getting there #my writing #my fanfiction #rough draft #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite 2024 #ffxivwrite2024

9 notes · View notes

btskitten7 · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter v; a deadly favor (part two)

Ship: Min Yoongi x fem reader

AU/Genre: Mafia AU

Rating: M

Wc: 7.2 (all parts together)

Chapter warnings: spicy scene in this one! (oral f. Receiving. Fingering. Implied love making) Yoongi getting drunk (and very sad) stalking mentioned. Selling drugs.

Chapter summary: this is where Yoongi’s mask starts to slip and he’s having difficulty keeping it straight. He knows his lies are going to catch up to him and it’s getting to him. Namjoon betrays Yoongi without knowing the extent of his betrayal. Yoongi’s dad is an ass here :/ Hoseok is closing in on you. This is where things are going downhill.

taggs: @shadowjellyfishfest @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelyamc

It was your comfort spot. Most nights he would find you there. On other nights you both would sleep there if the weather permitted. No doubt you'd be there tonight too.

It was a beautiful night. The stars were bright and the weather was a little chilly but tolerable. You could see the lights of Seoul from a distance. You got to witness the sunset, something you try to do every night you have the time. The beautiful arrangement of orange, red, pink, and a bit of purple almost made you forget about the fight earlier. It was calming.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, instantly warming you up. You didn't have to look to know who it was. His scent alone told on himself. Yoongi placed his head in the crook of your neck, soaking up your scent. You relaxed to his touch, you couldn't help yourself.

After a few moments, you pushed your body off of Yoongis and turned, facing him, remembering the whole reason why you are upset. You folded your arms and looked at Yoongi. Yoongi's heart dropped to the floor when he saw your reaction. He knew he deserved it.

'This must be what You felt when I did the same to you' he thought to himself.

Ignoring the beautiful scene around him, Yoongi couldn't keep his eyes from locking on yours. He saw the confusion, worry, and sadness in your eyes. He knew that this time he'd be able to fix it... but he also knew that there would be a time that he might not be able to fix it. He won't always have the right words to keep you here. And that scares him. Looking at your expressions now made him think of the future and you finding out everything.

Moving closer to you and taking your hands, taking a deep breath

" I'm sorry..." he started " I had a long day today and seeing that...the thought of.." he stops himself and sighs defeatedly. "It just...made me lose my cool. I didn't mean to react that way, normally I don't..this time was different. I don't like the thought of someone else charming you. Especially to that degree. Especially when you love roses and flowers in general. It just drove me crazy and seeing how happy you were about them...it just," Yoongi paused for a second before continuing "it just made me jealous. More than normal."

You could see the sincere look in his eyes. It just confirmed what you thought of before.

"I understand but it hurts my feelings a lot when you pull away like that. Not once but twice. You've never acted like that before. It kind of scared me and you looked unrecognizable to me." You said to him looking into his eyes.

Yoongi felt even worse than he did before. Hearing that come from your lips felt like someone kicked him dead in his chest. It was something he never wanted to do to you. All he could do was look down from your gaze. He couldn't believe he allowed Hoseok to make him react like that..not only that but to you of all people.

"Blossom I...I'm so sorry. There's no excuse for that" he said once again. "I should have never reacted that way. I would never hurt you and I never meant to scare you."

You knew Yoongi was apologetic, he meant his words wholeheartedly. Also, you knew Yoongi would never hurt you. Of course, you accept his apology, but it's still going to remain in the back of your mind. It was hard for it not to be.

"You are forgiven, baby. I can't stay mad at you for long even if I wanted to. I know you wouldn't hurt me. It was just different to see you like that. But I'm sorry too."

Yoongi frowned and tilted his head. There was nothing that you needed to apologize for in his mind so he was curious as to what you had to apologize for.

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked,

"For assuming you got me the roses. I should have confirmed who they were from before accepting them. If I would have known they were from another man, let alone anyone else? I would have left them there or donated them to the hospital. Patients love things like that. Nevertheless, I'm sorry too." you explained.

Yoongi chuckled and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and making small circles against your skin with his fingertips.

"Baby..." he started " you didn't do a thing. It was all me. I shouldn't have acted that way"

His eyes softened which made you melt.

This was the Yoongi you were used to. Not that person you saw earlier. You placed your hand on Yoongi's cheek, cupping it softly. No extra words were spoken, it didn't need to be. The atmosphere said everything that needed to be said between you two.

No longer able to hold himself back, Yoongi leaned down and kissed your lips softly. Not wanting anything more and not giving you anything less. It was like the argument was erased from your memories as you shared the sweet kiss.

Wanting to savor this moment, Yoongi picked you up as he moved towards the chair. As he sat down, he sat you directly onto his lap, not breaking the kiss. Not even for a second.

Slowly the kiss became something more passionate and sweet. His lips were parted, allowing you to slip your tongue inside. Warm and soft, are the words you'd describe Yoongi's lips. You could kiss them for hours and not get tired of them.

Your bodies pressed together heatedly as your tongues both fought for dominance. You could feel both of your heartbeats pick up as the kiss grew more intense between you two.

Warmth bloomed in Yoongi's chest as the sparks began to ignite as the kiss continued to the room. Your legs were wrapped around his waist until he laid you on the bed, closing the space in between you, still not allowing the kiss to break. The intensity of the kiss, his weight on your body, and the smell of his cologne made you see double. Butterflies danced in your stomach, you were over the moon over Yoongi. And he was with you.

Yoongi pulled back and stared into your eyes, creasing your cheek softly. "I love you blossom. I don't ever want to lose you..." Your stomach did backflips. It took so long for Yoongi to tell you he loved you so each time you hear him say it, you melt. "I love you too, Yoongi"

Yoongi smiled as he leaned down and kissed your lips. You returned the kiss, meeting his tongue in the middle. Yoongi knew that he had an early morning tomorrow but he did not care. He needed this. He needed you. You broke apart and Yoongi began to kiss your neck sweetly.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you, yn"

Just that alone was enough to drive you mad. His kisses were loving and sweet. Yoongi started to nibble on your earlobe as he slid his hands down your body, gripping your breast and rubbing them. A soft moan left your lips as he continued to grip your breast and kiss your neck.

He gripped the bottom of your shirt and lifted it over your head, pleased to see that you had nothing underneath. From your neck, he began to kiss your collarbone which led him to your breast. Yoongi flicked his tongue across your nipple making you gasp softly. He licked and sucked your nipple as you squirm underneath him. After a few moments, he switched to your other one and repeated the same process. Your moans only grew louder from here as he licked down your stomach. He left plenty of soft kisses against your skin which gave you butterflies.

Yoongi spreads your legs apart and runs his tongue along your lips. Your hands subconsciously found their way to his locks which caused you to pull him closer. He then kissed your thighs slowly moving upwards towards your entrance. You moaned loudly as he teased you with his tongue alone. Your hips begin to move up and down as he continues to lick you.

"S-stop teasing" you demand breathlessly which earns you a slap to the thigh followed by Yoongi's deep chuckles.

"I think I'll take my time" Yoongi smirked looking up at you.

You let out a small cry when he took your clit into his mouth and began to suck on it with his eyes amused by your response to him. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm already. You knew you would explode if he didn't stop and he knew that too, but that didn't stop him.

It encouraged him.

Yoongi kept sucking on your clit while penetrating you with his two fingers. You moaned loudly as your body tensed up and your orgasm washed over you. You came so hard that you almost passed out.

Good thing you didn't because that would have made Yoongi stop what he was doing. You didn't want that.

When your orgasm subsided, Yoongi climbed on top of you and smiled at your dazed look. "You okay blossom?" He asks jokingly with a slight hint of worry. You look at him with a lazy smile on your face nodding. "Why wouldn't I be? You do this to me every time" You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a deep kiss.

Yoongi chuckled against your lips before kissing you again. The kiss lasted for a minute before he broke away and said lovingly, "I want to make love to you, baby." You nod in agreement with a loving smile as you hold his face close to yours. Yoongi couldn't help the butterflies he felt when he was with you.

It's like his tough and cold persona was nonexistent when you were with him. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to properly express himself and sometimes it's still difficult for him. But you made it so easy for him to fall in love.

He had to protect this no matter what.

~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks, things were pretty quiet and normal. Yoongi and his father were off on another trip. Surprisingly, they left Seokjin behind. That never happens but you didn't mind the company while Yoongi was away. Things at work were the same but your shifts ran smoothly and calmly. Which is unheard of in the nursing career but you weren't complaining. You hadn't seen that guy again, not that you wanted to. You just hoped that his friend was staying out of trouble and trying not to get shot again. When your co-workers told you that someone came looking for you, you could only assume it was him. The way Yoongi reacted...it's probably best that he never comes around again.

After an hour or so of passing meds, you finally had a chance to sit at your desk and chart everything that you couldn't before. You only had an hour left in your shift, so you went ahead and got everything ready for the shift. As you were charting, you realized that your picture was missing from your area.

"Hey, Jackie?" You asked, "Have you seen my picture that I had up here?"

Your coworker hummed as she thought about it for a moment. She shook her head and looked at you with sad eyes. "Sorry love, I didn't know you had a picture there if I'm being truthful. I don't realize small things like that."

You smiled softly "It's okay"

Sighing as you sat back in your seat you kept looking around your workspace.

"I thought I had a picture here of Yoongi and me?" you asked yourself under your breath. You pouted and texted Yoongi.

(Blossom 🤍): Baby...I think I lost my picture at work. I must have misplaced it when I packed up to go home but now I'm sad.

(Yoon 🖤): don't worry, we'll look for it once I get back. It's probably laying in plain sight and you've overlooked it.

(Blossom 🤍): okay 😔 can we take another one just in case I've lost it?

(Yoon 🖤): Blossom 😂 we take pictures all the time. You do not have to ask me to take more.

(Blossom 🤍): you didn't like to before mister!

(Yoon 🖤): I was younger and we weren't together. Why would I need to take pictures?

(Blossom 🤍): it was only five years ago 😒 and you should always take pictures! You look so handsome 🥺

(Yoon 🖤): so I was still younger then. I'll only take pictures for you.

(Blossom 🤍): you better! My shift is almost over! I'll text you before bed!

Not pondering on it for too long after your conversation with Yoongi, you got a new admission that needed your attention.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi, Namjoon, and his father are in Japan talking to some of his father's old "friends". They want to discuss business with his father. The drug trade.

For months now, Yoongi has been fighting with his father about the whole drug trade. Min has been hounding Yoongi about it ever since Namjoon's father convinced him to do so. With Namjoon's father being the current underboss with his father, of course, his father would go along with the one he trusts the most. And he would do anything for wealth. Min probably trusted Namjoon's father more than he trusted Yoongi, his son. But now, his father believes that having a part in the trade will bring more money to the family. Yoongi couldn't argue with that in fact, he agreed. He saw just how much people could potentially make from the trade alone and had no ties to the mafia but he didn't think it was worth the risk.

Casinos, construction, building complexes, and businesses are less risky. Of course, one could wonder how you obtain all that you have but they wouldn't suspect you as fast as they would with drugs. Getting into something like that is like inviting the police right into your home. Yoongi wants his time as boss to be as smooth as possible. He remembered how his mother always had to clean up the messes his father made and the years they spent apart since he went to prison often, he didn't want you to have to do the same. He couldn't let you do the same.

But once his father sets his mind on something, he sticks to it. He shouldn't be surprised, he's the same way. He and his father bumped heads over you plenty of times and Yoongi never let up.

As much as Yoongi tries to separate himself from his father, he still carries his father's traits. There was no denying that.

Namjoon thought the same as Yoongi...but once he talked to Yoongi's father and his father, it all made sense. Namjoon has a great relationship with his father and always trusted what he told him. Min has always been a second father figure for him as well. They told him to convince Yoongi before the trip but he hasn't had the chance to talk to him alone. Since they were going to be gone for two weeks, Yoongi spent every waking moment with you. Even on the trip, he's been talking to you all day and all night. The dinner is tonight, so he has to convince him right now, but of course, he's talking to you.

"It's 11 at night, why are you just now having dinner?" Namjoon heard you ask Yoongi. Yoongi chuckled.

"Because my father wants to have dinner with one of his friends he hasn't seen in a long time and they aren't done with whatever they are doing until that late. Don't worry though, Joon and I had a filling lunch today." Yoongi said while aimlessly picking at the bottom of his shirt. He smiled at your sweet giggle on the other end. "I hope it was good!"

Namjoon hated to interrupt. He knows how much Yoongi wants to talk to you, especially after the blow-up a few weeks ago but he only had less than an hour before they had to leave. It was now or never.

Namjoon walked over to Yoongi and cleared his throat.

"I need to talk to you about something."

Yoongi looked up at Namjoon with a slight frown.

"Can't it wait until I'm done?"

"No. We need to talk about it before dinner. It's important."

"Baby don't worry about it! You can call me when you're done with everything. I don't mind waiting for you. I'm off tomorrow" you said reassuring him. An annoyed sigh left his mouth. Namjoon became a bit worried since it isn't the best time to talk to him when he was irritated. Especially if one interrupts his time with you.

"No, it's okay blossom. I'll call you in the morning. Get some rest. I should be home tomorrow night or early the next morning. Goodnight, I love you"

"I love you too, baby! Hurry back to me. I miss you! And don't work too hard! Have some fun every once in a while!" You said which made Yoongi snort.

"I only have fun when I'm with you." Yoongi smiled. Namjoon knew that if he allowed this to continue, he'd be waiting for another 30 minutes before he could say anything.

"Yoongi" Namjoon said sternly, which caused Yoongi's smile to fade. Yoongi rolled his eyes before saying another set of goodbyes and I love you's.

After getting off the phone, Yoongi's dark eyes looked into Namjoon's.

"What could you possibly want that couldn't wait until I was done with my conversation"

" Since we don't have much time, I'm going to just say it, I think we should get into the drug trade. BEFORE you say anything just hear me out. We have enough businesses to cover our tracks. No one would expect it. It's not like we are the ones sitting on the streets selling it. That's what we have our soldiers for. They sell and the family profits. This would be good for you to come in as boss with a new way to make money. You'll be able to bring in more than your father did when taking the family from your grandfather"

Yoongi shook his head with a condescending scoff. He knew exactly where Namjoon got this idea. He was just agreeing with him a few months back.

"Did my father talk to you regarding this? Because I believe I've already made up my mind. No drugs. It's not worth the risk I thought I told you that. And tell me you can see Jungkook selling drugs? I certainly cannot, unless they're all women. Then he'll be our top seller." Yoongi scoffed with a chuckle. Namjoon sighed before continuing.

"Our fathers and I talked about it a few nights before we left for the trip. At first, I agreed with you, and I still do but when they explained it, I understood better. I think we can do this. With everything we have? No one would expect a thing-"

"You keep saying that as if I told Y/n about anything. Regardless of what we have or what can cover what, do you think I want to push drugs in my home? Where would it all go? Do you want me to go purchase a warehouse and fill it up? How would I explain that? It's already hard enough to keep things between us as it is. I'm not denying that it could bring profit up, there's no question about it. But I'm not trying to add something else I have to hide from her. You don't fucking know how hard it is to keep lying to her." Yoongi jumped up, completely taking Namjoon by surprise. Namjoon felt horrible listening to Yoongi talk about you. He didn't like lying to you either. But this isn't about you, they both had a family and reputation to uphold. He wasn't going to back down like he knew Yoongi wasn't

"Listen, I know what my father wants for the family. He only wants the best and so do I. But in a few months, he's not going to have much say-so. I want my time as boss to be smooth sailing and if, IF, I decide to have kids with Y/n, I want it to be just as smooth for my kid to run or not to run if he so chooses. You're my underboss, you're supposed to be on the same page regardless of what your opinion is. I don't give a fuck what my father or a matter of fact what your father wants. If I have to find another underboss, let me know right now you can go work for my father if that's what you fucking want"

Yoongi was two inches from Namjoon's face. His eyes were dark and serious. Namjoon knew there was nothing else he could say. He threatened his position and knew he wouldn't be let off easily. He shouldn't have had so much confidence in convincing Yoongi...

~~~~~~~~

"You wanted to see me?" Namjoon asked, walking into the conference room. He was a little nervous when Yoongi's father called him but a part of his nerves subsided when he saw his father.

"Yes, son. Don't be so nervous, please have a seat." His father said pointing to the black couch that faced another black couch that the two men were sitting on.

"I'm just wondering why I wasn't to inform Yoongi about me coming here," Namjoon said, finally taking his seat. "I just hope everything is okay"

Yoongi's dad sat his wine down on the white coffee table in front of him with a big smile.

"Things are amazing but they are going to become better. We have some new things that we're going to be adding to our... assets."

Namjoon smiled softly and nodded. "That's great, what's going to happen?"

"Since Yoongi added the real estate and the new property, it's a success. I'm quite proud of you two. How did you guys come up with that?" Yoongi's dad asked. Namjoon thought it was a little weird for him to ask so off topic but he wasn't going to tell him that.

"Yoongi thought it was a good idea for us to get into and he told Seokjin and me to look more into it" He lied.

His father chuckled. Yoongi's father shared the same chuckle as they knew something. That made Namjoon nervous all over again.

"I think I'm going to ask again," Yoongi's father started, "How did Yoongi come up with that idea?"

"My son is smart, a genius even. But real estate just seems...out of his element"

Namjoon paused for a second. Yoongi made him swear not to discuss anything concerning Y/n with his father. As his father knows, Yoongi finally told Y/n everything and she understands it all which he knows is a lie. When Min finally told his wife about his "work" she threatened to divorce him on the spot.

So you being so understanding is unrealistic to Min. He had to admit, Yoongi could lie to anyone but he could never lie to him. He always knew when his son was lying, which wasn't often. Only when Yoongi started to see you is when he started lying to everyone around him.

"Well, Yoongi had to come up with something. She asked him about his work and why he was gone all the time. He just said we were into real estate and we looked at a lot of property. It made the most sense" Namjoon admitted.

He knew he just committed the worst act against Yoongi. Especially, in a life like this. You have very few that you can trust. Yoongi always made it clear that he only trusted three people. Seokjin, Namjoon and Y/n. As much as he loved his mother, he didn't trust her. She'll say and do anything to keep her "perfect" family. He knew she wouldn't do a thing to hurt him but he knew she had to be loyal to his father. So, if it came between him or his father? It'll always be his father.

"You're smart Namjoon. We are deciding to get into the drug trade and while I'm still in charge, it's already a go. We just need to make sure Yoongi keeps it going once I step down and we need you to look into everyone that's already in the trade and pay them a little visit after we get things settled." Min said.

"It'll benefit the family." his father added.

" I can look into it but I don't think I'll be able to do anything more. Yoongi does not want to get into the drug trade. He told us that months ago and he still stands on that today." Namjoon admitted.

"And that's why we've called you here son. You need to convince him, this can bring in revenue without having to put much out. You are his underboss. If anything, he should trust your judgment." his father told him.

"If he's going to listen to anyone, it'd be you, Y/n, or Seokjin. Y/n still doesn't know what my son does and Seokjin never goes against Yoongi no matter if I'm still boss or not but you? You listen. You're a good kid. You would never tell Yoongi anything wrong, he trusts you. You can convince him." Min said standing.

"Unless...I have to have a little talk with yn. I bet that'll get Yoongi on board real quick" Min said with the same dark glare Yoongi had. Namjoon cursed himself and shook his head 'No'

If that happened, Yoongi would go crazy. Especially if you left him because of that. He'd probably kill everyone except for Seokjin and him.

"No, don't. I'll see what I can do"

~~~~~

"You know I don't want that. You also know I'd never tell you to do something if the risk was great. I'd never do anything that would jeopardize you. Even though I shouldn't be, I consider your feelings for yn and how you don't want to lose her. Let's just try it out for a month and if it doesn't work or you still don't like it, we'll stop. I know you really don't want to do this but your father is still your boss as well until December. Just hold out a little longer. We're almost there" Namjoon said calmly.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed sharply.

"If this goes to shit, you will be held responsible. No questions asked." Yoongi said before turning from his underboss. "Also.."

Yoongi turned back towards Namjoon.

"If I find out that you speak to my father without speaking to me again. I'll see it to where you can't go anywhere in this world."

Yoongi said coldly which sent chills down Namjoon's spine.

Yoongi didn't want to hurt his best friend but he also felt his best friend wasn't understanding the seriousness of talking about you or anything to his father. Yoongi walks off, retreating to his side of the shared room to get ready for this dinner. Namjoon finally felt like he could breathe, the hardest part was over. At least he thought so.

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts x reader #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts smut #bts namjoon #bts smut drabble #bts mafia fic #bangtanwhq #micdropnet

73 notes · View notes

dutifullyshamelessearthquake · 8 months ago

Note

Ok so this is the canon au sick Cyno concept i was chewing on yesterday - and even if it doesn’t become a fic I love the thought

so! Tighnari is leaving the main city for the day, I’m assuming to go back to the forest ? (Idk how this part will work with them being in school but regardless It doesn’t matter point is nari is in the city lol) and he happens to catch a glimpse of Cyno…leaving the bimarstan..

tighnari is a little taken aback cuz he knows cyno would never willingly go and so he goes after him, only to find him pale faced and looking seconds from passing out. When Cyno sees him he’s overcome with relief and almost just collapses then and there.

now this is where my mind goes two different directions fully. 1. Cyno got injured on a Matra or Marta training related mission, and because he was with the others he was all but forced to go to the bimarstan. Maybe it was over crowded that day, full of crying and the smell of blood and antiseptic sprays and it just was far too triggering. Maybe he sees something specific that reminds him of his past and he’s pale faced cuz he’s seconds away from throwing up everywhere from panic and trauma alone. Not to mention depending on what injury he sustained it would make sense he’d be feeling nauseous in general. Tighnari finds him and is concerned and confused, does Cyno pass out? Does he puke? Both? Neither? Either way I imagine Cyno clings to nari and just wants to go with him, to wherever it’s safe. And nari ofc wants to double triple check that Cyno is truly okay (maybe Cyno continues to feel unwell and tighnari is too concerned to just send him back to his apt)

2. Cyno was on a mission to rescue some students. Students who are in the same school that Tighnari is a part of (I forget the name) maybe the mission fails and they are too late, and instead they are tasked with taking the unrecognizable remains back to the bimarstan. Maybe Cyno hasn’t seen tighnari in a few days but remembers him mentioning that he was working on something special. Maybe because the bodies aren’t recognizable when he over hears a random student asking “has anyone seen Tighnari recently” cyno im his exhaustion begins to panic and think of the worst. Maybe because of his newer status as a Matra and the fear and guilt of this mission gone wrong, and being in this hospital he just slowly and quietly begins to panic. Leaving the place feeling sick to his stomach (maybe he also ate something bad idk) and just…on his way to confirm nari is alive. He knows jes being irrational but maybe this is the first time he’s seen that many disfigured bodies of students like him. And the thought that I could be nari- of all people…so you can imagine when tighnari pops up right in front him while he’s half ready to dry heave in an alley he practically feels like he’s seen a ghost. And from there it’s the same song and dance of Cyno needed some extra medical and emotional help from the one person who makes him feel human

Okay these are absolutely BRILLIANT, and if it's okay with you I need to incorporate at least one of them into the Akademiya Days series 👀

Argh, I'm late finally responding to this, but I've been thinking about these ideas nonstop since I first read this ask and!! I'm absolutely obsessed!! I don't even know where to start!!

Tighnari's immediate concern for seeing Cyno at the Bimarstan, that immediate dread of "if he willingly went there, it's got to be really bad" or "he must have so much anxiety right now" and he immediately abandons wherever he was heading to run over and check that Cyno is okay. And just Cyno's utter relief at seeing Tighnari, like a weight lifts off his shoulders!

I can't decide which concept I like more, because these are both absolutely brilliant.

We either have a really injured Cyno who just had so many horrible memories resurfacing, and he just needs to sit down because he's so pale faced and lightheaded. He's shaking and he doesn't even know if it's because he's in pain or because he's on the verge of having an anxiety attack. I can see Tighnari either deciding "right, you're coming home with me" because he definitely wants to look after Cyno and he thinks getting him out of the city and to somewhere he feels safe will help him a lot mentally. Or Tighnari decides to just cancel his other plans immediately to go back to Cyno's apartment with him to look after him and take care of him.

Or we have properly traumatized Cyno who's suddenly questioning his decision to become a matra because he's just been so shaken up by what he just saw. He's already in the clutches of so many horrific memories from just being at the Bimarstan, and now he's been faced with the severed body parts of students like him and, even worse, like Tighnari. And his stomach is just suddenly in his throat and he has to excuse himself to hurry outside before he starts dry heaving. He's half panicking, really nauseous, and just so ashamed, but more than anything he just needs to know Tighnari is okay and- suddenly Tighnari is right there in front of him and asking if he's okay, and relief is so immense that Cyno has to puke in the nearest flowerbed.

These are absolutely fantastic argh!! I really want to write them!!

#earthquake author's note #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto #nausea #sickfic headcanons #sickfic prompts #sick cyno

14 notes · View notes