#i thought i couldnt express myself through art

[riderandspider]

Up until uh 5 minutes ago I had thought "I can't make art, I refuse to draw or paint because it just frustrates me". It wasn't until I realized that the magazines I cut up into collages of pictures and words, my assorted sheets of stickers, colorful streaks from markers, and trash glued down to paper that expressed what I was feeling was in fact art.

[rrxnjun]

(im really stupid but i hope u like this fanletter 😭)

hello <3 this is for my favourite writer on tumblr; to the the same writer who does not realise how much their works could mean to someone, the lovely @rrxnjun 🎀 !!!

so, i found your blog at the beginning ot this month– november, 2023, and now that the month's about to end, i have nearly finished reading all your nct works.

to me, this month is the most special one of this year. why? because i found your blog, your stories– some pieces of your mind. i found you through one of those nct fanfic recs, 'take the stairs - njm' being the first work i read from you. it was sweet, it made me happy. and then i read the other two parts of the 'simplify romance' series, which will always hold a special place in my heart.

this year has been the worst for me, with no one for me to lean on to, weird identify crisis shit, and losing myself in this tiring process of growing up. but you know what? you saved 2023 for me. when no one's words could speak to me, yours did. you make me feel a little less lonely.

im a silly teenager, who never read sad/mainly angsty stories before i found you because i was scared, i was confident i'd cry. and i did. i gathered the courage to read angst only because you'd written it, and it was so worth it. ive stayed up so many nights this month just to read your works in peace and privacy, hidden from my family, and then spend the days thinking about how you literally create art, and telling my bestfriends about it. you are blessed. you are phenomenal. no amount of thank yous or i love yous could be enough for me to express my gratitude. you've made me feel so at peace with my thoughts sometimes and you've made me feel like i'm not alone. you have magic in your hands. i owe you so much, i wish i could gift you something, but sadly im still a minor and theres a few years until i finish uni and then get a job, and then i promise i'll get you something, because i am so lucky to be able to read your stories for free. you deserve so much more than followers, likes and reblogs. each one of your fics have made me tear up and all of them are too special for me.

this month ive read all of your nct dream '00 line fics, and my favourite was 'happier than ever' which i finished a week ago— AND I SWEAR THAT FIC DESTROYED ME 😭😭😭 it had me bawling my eyes out for two hours on a school night i love it so so fucking much, i literally think about it daily and i told all my friends about it and im so in love with it, please tell me, for my inner peace that renjun and the reader ended up getting together and being fine because im gonna cry over it for the rest of my life IDC IF THEY DIDNT END UP TOGETHER please lie to me and tell me they did 💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

i want you to know, and to remember this whenever you feel even a little like giving up— you have magic, bar, don't ever let go of that magic.

your stories make me want to heal and to help everyone heal. to be loved and to love everyone. to be cared for and care for everyone. your magic helps me survive my days with a little smile. thank you so much for everything you've done for me, without realising you're helping me live.

every single word i wrote here– i swear on everything i have, i genuinely mean it. you are the best thing that happened this year :) i hope that one day someone will love you as much as i love your blog.

(me when i talk about your work)

P.S. permission to take a screenshot of your blog and paste it to my scrapbook by which i can remember my teenage years that your stories mended, please?

thank you for reading, ily ❤️

- your biggest fan (hopefully no one's more dedicated!!) 💘

when i saw this in my inbox i got so emotional i couldnt reply immidiately because i genuinely wanted to sob. this is so so sweet and it mustve taken a long time to type out and i appreciate you a WHOLE lot, not only for this, but also for supporting me sm over the last month. :,)

take the stairs is a very sweet and fun fic and i am glad you found my blog through this one, haha. the simplify romance series holds my favorite fics and i PROMISE to finish jeno's entry at the beginning of the next year!! it HAS to be done. it means a lot to me that you took the time of your day to read my works and that you enjoyed them so much to let me know.

i am happy to hear that my work could help you through some hard times. as a reader on this platform as well, i do know that feeling very well and i could never imagine being that person to someone, but i am glad my words could be there for you when no one else could. hearing this makes all the effort feel worth it, and it's something i'll think of whenever im having a hard time with my work again. i also hope life is nicer to you in the future, and if you ever need someone, my inbox is always open.

having my fics be called art is something i never imagined could happen. it's beyond what i think about my work, but i am honored to hear this compliment, truly. despite being a writer i cant find the words to express my gratitude towards you and your supportive words right now >:( it does mean the whole entire world to me. please do NOT worry about "paying me back" or something, i do this because it's what i love doing and sharing my work with others makes me happy, so an ask like this is more than enough for me. you made me feel really appreciated and i will remember and treasure your kind words forever.

happier than ever is definitely a heavier read, since it's partly from personal experience, hh. i tend to project on renjun a lot so take this as a warning for my other renjun fics LMAO. TT this fic has a special place in my heart and hearing you talk so highly about it makes me all warm on the inside hhhhh my love langugage is words of affirmation stop this or ill cry. i enjoy leaving my fics open-ended to interpretation of the reader, so whatever you feels fits their story is how the story ends for you. <3

i will definitely use this ask as a reminder to not give up when i feel like doing so. it really brought me a lot of strength :) thank you for calling my writing magic. i never imagined someone describing it that way, but it does feel good to hear haha

knowing that my work helped somebody and made them heal and feel all sorts of emotions inside makes me feel at peace. thank you so much. SO much.

also u really make me want to bawl with that scrapbook comment. cant believe im an important part of someone's teenage years :((

once again, words cant express how much this means to me. thank you and i hope my fics continue to be a source of good things for you :) i will think of this often. ily

[purecantarella]

what was the moment i realized it ?

i've pondered that very question every night before i fell asleep...in some cases it was the reason i couldnt find rest in the evening. it wasn't just a simple moment; a snap of a finger. it was a culmination of every moment i've spent with you. it was every smile you through my way and my way only. it was the hours upon hours we spent talking about everything and nothing at once. it was when i pulled you in for a tight, unwavering embrace. it was every moment i was tempted to place my lips on yours, wondering what it would feel like. the thought alone balming my cheeks with an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

i have felt this deep feeling for almost a year, every moment i spent with you fanning the flame of dedication and devotion that will stay with me forever.

but it was in this moment, the most mundane afternoon...me waiting around in a common area of the campus in the hopes you might want to see me before class that made me realize it. i was minding my business, reading my book in a serene afternoon bliss. until this moment, these were times i soaked in the silence and momentary isolation from the world. i looked over at the blank space beside me and wished i could share this silence with you.

i caught myself imagining you were here, in the safe bubble i've always kept to myself. and it had completely dawned on me, "im fucked."

i've admitted it when i was swimming in alcohol, completely numb, but i've actively denied it for months on end. but now, with a hood of anonymity, i can confidently say it with no filter, no hinderences, nothing holding me back.

you're all i want. you're all i've wanted since the moment i met you.

it's a terrifying and abrupt notion, i know. i'm not the lovesick fool i was when i was younger. i've learned after years and years of heartbreak that not everything should be said. not every action the heart wants to take should be done. that the consequences come at the end of the book. but thinking of you. imagining what the mundane, the stressful, the ugly with you...it's not as daunting as is seemed.

you follow me on this account, you may see this or you may not. but i needed to get this out of my system. i needed to breathe it out somewhere. i needed someone to know. i needed this.

i needed it to be known just how much i crave your attention. just how much i thrive off of it.

my silence is not indicative that i have nothing to say, it only means sometimes i don't know how to express what i'm thinking without scaring you off, love.

you are the muse to my art. you are the reason i'm pushing harder and harder every semester. i want to be worthy of the attention and affection that you could give me.

i want you, my love. i adore you.

- r

[chronic-monachopsis]

this happens to me alllll the time (ppl reacting poorly to ur comic and not Getting It) like whenever i show ppl my art (bc They’re nosy) and they are so Perplexed and Weirded Out by it and it’s like ???? i get that it can be different to expectations or whatever but to dismiss any art (this esp happens to any art that makes ppl feel uncomfortable in Any way and that isn’t just ohh what a pretty picture :3) so wild to me like art is subjective and all but like ?? Look at it Look at what it’s Telling you, use a modicum of critical thinking i Beg.

also i fully believe all artists are freaks like u Have to be a little odd to dedicate so much of yourself to making things no matter what it is. i have also had people Get It in ways even i hasn’t thought of trust made me Think and Feel and dive deeper into my own art which is what it’s allll about !!

all that to say the girls that get it Get It and the girls that dont Dont. and the ones that do will eat it up (pun not intended). so dont let it get u down ! would love to see it when it’s available bc i also love a cannibalism motif <3

hope ur having a good day (and sorry for rambling lol) ! :)

hi anon !! First of all i would like to say. we have EXTREMELY similar typing quirks !?! and i couldnt help but notice ( not sure if it was intentional or not but i also do random capitalisation of words that i feel need extra emphasis, it confuses ppl at times LOL )

second of all, thank you for your thoughts, dont apologise for rambling! this is Ramble Central™ and now im gonna One Up you by rambling MORE than you heheuhuehe

anywho, YES. thank you for getting it! i think a lot of people get used to seeing art as solely decoration – like you said "a pretty picture". it is easy for some to forget that art is Also used as a tool of self expression.

i communicate best when i am creating, and oftentimes i will use themes that are unconventional? ( because i am pretentious )

Blood, Gore, Cannibalism, they are all visceral to look at. people will get weirded out and look away, tell me that im strange or that i should paint something prettier. and that can be very frustrating.

as an artist, i create for myself but i also seek understanding and connection through what i make. its the best line of communication i have, and to be misunderstood or judged through it feels disappointing !! ! i know lots of other ppl feel the same way.

if they didn't, there wouldn't be the Tortured Artist stereotype LMAOOoO

by the way there was no point i was trying to make here, SORRY LOL. i could talk for days about anything.. ! i plan on posting the comic sometime soon, maybe ina week or two when i have it finished ! :^)

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Hi there! just saw your post about the bg3 matchups so i thought id give it a try :3 (hope you dont mind me sending this as an ask, couldnt fit all of this into one comment lol)

i'm a 19 year old gay trans man currently studying art/Media Design. i have split dyed (lavender and black) hair and a mullet with v-bangs, a bunch of piercings too (and more to come)

i own a cat and a horse, those two are basically my children. Im super into fashion and makeup, Part of my local goth community and a big horror fan.

I'm a pretty artsy guy and absolutely love learning and trying new things, despite being very anxious i always need some kind of excitement in my life to be happy, i love to stand out and express myself through the way i dress and do my makeup, i have very strong opinions and will have long debates to defend them if people dont agree with them, i have a strong sense of justice but will only follow rules if i personally think theyre necessary, i'm very passionate about animal training (horses specifically) and have been working with horses for roughly 11 years, i'm usually pretty awkward when first Meeting people but i warm up pretty quickly, after that i'm super energetic and love to joke around (plus im a Master of sarcasm)

I'd pair you with Karlach!

You seem SO passionate about the things you care about, and will not back down from them, which is something that Karlach also does, and loves you for. Both of you together would be a powerhouse in debates - just constant good points being brought up, as well as supporting each other as you both just ruin your opponent in debate lol. Karlach also loves how warm and energetic you are, and loves to joke around with you - you two are constantly laughing so much that usually you go to bed with your stomachs hurting.

Karlach also obviously has such a zest for life, and loves trying new things, so often when you two have free time, you're off on adventures doing things new to both of you - to you two, there is NOTHING better than learning new things together! If you are ever experiencing some anxiety, Karlach will also be there to help you out - whether you need some jokes to laugh, or to be held, she will be there for you, to remind you that you are safe together, and that your anxiety will subside. We all know that even though Karlach is loud and fun, she has an incredibly soft and gentle side, and shows that to you often.

[notinterestedinyourstuff]

THESE ARE JUST ABOUT FEELINGS

1. since i listened to troye sivan strawberries and cigarettes, my feeling goes to taynew. while, thei have their own songs, jason mraz 'lucky' what can i say 'bout this song? the lyrics are all about them.

yep, nulis tentang mereka dulu lah baru real life. seeing them like watching alternate universe in real life. once, i wrote about romance feeling that i felt, which actually i watched them at that time.

watched them, on their real stories, not a series or fanfiction. been so long i lost interest for romantic things. the happiness, sadness, sacrifices, love languages, their ways to keep it personal but me as part of netizen keep digging our curiosity 'bout their life.

back then, before i fell this deep into them, i was like promised to myself to not gonna spend any penny for them. then, this year i spent around 6000 thb to see them again in bangkok.

so, the romance feeling i wanted to share was like...they gonna have series together again. one of the actor congratulated them, he is theearth, nuwi's ex partner in old serie. exact partner in work coz eventho earth was his couple (at that time) tawan wouldn't leave them alone. damnit tay tawan, you possesive bastard. like, earth knew that he couldnt be together with nuwi lah, walau company support them and they have fans tho, but universe like only blessed nuwi for tawan. the love songs i collect in spotify are mostly got from tawan's playlist for nuwi, well fans also have play list for theearth and nuwi which all of them are the broken heart songs.

cuma pengen nulis soal betapa mengirinya diri ini melihat dua insan yg kayaknya lagi kasmaran banget. well berdasarkan lurking di sosial media, diketahui bahwa mereka tampak sudah kasmaran sejak 2013. waktu itu usia mereka masih muda, masih mencari validasi, setidaknya itu POV gw. then reality came through their life, like salah satu masi khawatir tentangg society judgment. while the other one mungkin juga mau ikutan move on, tapi apa daya hatinya udah mentok dgn si satu nya.

2. next is about the chines' drama i watched. so nowadays i back to watch gongjun's series i've been waiting since last year. the legend of anle. not the gayes series, the straight one, but the feeling still the same. how i always feel toward chinese colossal drama, they do really act like a drama. but the feeling they gave to me as damaged as casual series.

just look at wenkexing's eyes..i got the feeling of the scenes caused of those eyes. i ain't an expert of art, but i can give plus one for this kind of drama. the aesthetic they brought to the audience with their culture is beautiful. i dunno how were they back then in real life. but the way they express the emotion, how they doin war with power and revenge, the blood, how they not afraid of the death as long as the sacrifice is worthy.

not forget to mention their costumes and design, i believe every country is beautiful. somehow, so far...i didn't get it from my own culture..i mean in the right way. 5555. it's just how they serve the audience.

well, i might be bias coz i only watched those which played by my faves. other than that, i might only know other actors from some variety shows.

3. recently, i read this book.

well, i wouldn't say this book is the best 5555, but it's something. maybe boring, but i try to keep following coz i got the point on each parts. i can feel her, thank god there's someone who has feeling, thought and somehow maybe personality like me. i mean, there are many type of people, and those who look like with the writer well we're in the same thought. so i'm not the only one. (of course fika, you not that special tho hahahaha). like, when everyone thanked to themselves for staying and struggling, the logic mind of mine said 'emang harus gimana lagi? kan emang kudu bertahan dan dijalani, ga ada jalan pintas, kalo kabur pun masalah lain pasti akan kunjung datang lagi. wong namanya juga hidup. kalo gada masalah ya baru namanya bukan kehidupan lagi. kita punya siapa lagi kalo bukan diri sendiri dan...Tuhan? yang membawa kita ke dunia ini. that's the logic mind loh ya yg bilang. kadang kalo lagi kalut ya emang susah juga mikir kesana.

kek si mba penulis buku itu. obrolan mba nya dgn si psikiater semacam validasi orang lain tentang kondisi mbanya-which is lil'bit similar sm gw. jadi gw cukup tau dan paham aja gimana menurut psikiater itu. sedikit banyak kek konsultasi via buku. iya gw tau ini ga dibenarkan, tapi kek tadi gw bilang cuma biar tau dan dikit paham aja, jadi gw kelamaan menghakimi diri sendiri.

[kingkatsuki]

heeey i have a question, idk if this is okay but please ignore it if it's not... *also this might be a little long sorry

so i recently read a manga "blue period" which focuses on art, finding their own art, wondering which type of art they fit most, expressing themselves, finding themselves, and a lot more, you should read it if you can! an anime adaptation is also up to date on oct! 💗 gosh sorry i really wanted to share this bc its amazing! uhm my question is... how did you find what you really liked? like for example writing, is writing just your hobby? how did you know it was just a hobby and not something that you wanted to pursue? i really like writing and drawing, i started writing since 6th grade and now i'm in college, you prolly thought im still writing but no.. i stopped in highschool because i didnt know the purpose of it, i always search for the purpose you know, even in math, the numbers you need to use, the variables, i need the purpose to be able to continue without difficulties, and if theres no purpose and just "just that" i find it difficult to move, just like in writing and drawing, i lost all motivation, i lost the emotions i used to have, i lost the feeling of joy when finishing a poem or a short story, and as for drawing, i recently discovered my love for drawing the last three years when i saw an art in an exhibit, i felt so motivated and inspired to draw, at first i traced other people's art, then tried to mimic the art that i traced, but i realized i approached it in a wrong way so i tried to start learning from the beginning, the shades, lights, perspectives, shapes, but in the end all i had was random sketches from a notebook using a pencil, i felt empty, i couldnt do much because we arent that rich to buy supplies, or to invest my time in it because i had a lot of things to do, so i stopped, again, i dont know where to start and how i can start, i dont even know if i actually like writing and drawing, do i rlly like it? am i just swept away because of the pandemic? or am i pressured to have something that i can say i like doing?

sorry for blurbing out, day's rough, you can ignore this, sorry for the time u spent 😩💀

I just looked up that manga and it actually really sounds like something I would enjoy so I'm definitely going to check it out, thank you for the recommendation!

I’m gonna pop this under a read more cause I got ridiculously long for no real reason too😂😭

I think for myself writing has only ever been a hobby for me, and in my mind it'll always just remain a hobby. I started writing when I was younger because the characters I liked in anime had virtually no OC/reader fics for them and I just wanted to have something to read for myself and give myself that comfort when I was a teenager. It helped that when I shared it that other people would comment and say how happy they were that they found the fics and how underappreciated the characters were and even though my writing sucked it just made me feel happy so I kept doing it. Even to this day I feel like no matter how many people tell me that they enjoy my writing and think I'm good at it I'll never really truly believe it, because to me I'm just doing something I enjoy. I don't think I could ever release a book or even write something good enough to be published, and thats totally okay because writing like this has helped me through so many shitty periods in my life that I may not have made it through without this release.

I feel like if you sit down and enjoy writing/drawing when you do it, it means that it is your hobby. No matter how good you are at it, no matter whether people like it or not it doesn't matter if you're gaining enjoyment from it. I think if you're just doing it to please other people or to say you have a hobby it isn't quite the same, and that could be why sometimes you feel almost obligated to do it? Writing/drawing shouldn't be seen as an obligation when you're doing it for free, and no one (including yourself!) should make you feel that way.

It actually sounds like you have talent, Anon! And that you enjoy drawing. Even if you're just tracing I would say thats completely okay and valid as long as you're not claiming the work as your own or trying to pass it off as such.

Even if its something you were just using to get yourself through the pandemic I think that's totally okay too. I've taken huge gaps in writing (I'm talking years) between fandoms, I stopped writing for a good 3/4 years at one stage because I just didn't want to do it. But no matter what it's always been there for me if I've wanted to return to it, and I think that's the main thing. So it sounds like drawing could be the same for you?💕

[lovesbitca8]

Reactions to the Final Chapter of The Auction (4/4)

Anonymous said: Hello! I just wanted to tell you how much I love “The Right Thing to Do” series so much. Normally I’m not a fan of FanFictions giving out sequels or entire series, but I drove right into this little trilogy and I’m still in love. I found it a few weeks ago and I’m listening to the audiobook even though I just read it. You’re an amazing writer 💛

Anonymous said: I’ve always read angsty fic where the characters are jaded and hard and tough, even with each other. But since reading your Right Thing To Do/Auction universe I’ve realized that soft babies who are in love are simple superior.

Anonymous said: I've reread TRTTD, and I've decided to hell with Draco POV for TA, I need more badass Ginny and resigned Harry in my Dramione. They are wonderful and I love them.

Anonymous said: Just want to say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE how you write Blaise and Pansy (like not only in The Rights and Wrong series) but in every fic they're in. God I love their friendship with Draco ugh love the Slytherin Trio

alicia178 said: So. I was waiting for you to finish The Auction before I read it, because I knew I would want to binge it. And I did. I have just finished it and my goodness! What a wonder you are! I adored it. A loved it, and I devoured it! Such excellence, well thought out and brilliant story telling. I can’t wait to see what you do next!! I love the idea of the Dramione You’ve got mail AU. Just wanted to say, well done. LOVED IT. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Anonymous said: Hello, would you ever consider writing a shot fic that focused on Pansy? I am sure you get asked to write new fics all the time, so I apologize! Pansy, both in The Right Thing To Do, but especially in The Auction, is such a strong, amazing character. You write female friendships, loyalty, jealousy, and competition so well. She is so incredible, and I would love to see more of her -- in either of those stories' universes! Thank you again for such stellar writing. <3

No plans for any Pansy fics now, but it’s crossed my mind!

norbertsnotes said: I finally finished The Auction and absolutely loved it! Began rereading TRTTD and came across this little bit when Hermione is recommending books for Draco and couldn’t help but wonder if this is a little nod to Manacled or just The Handmaids Tale in general? “There’s a new novel out, based loosely on a Muggle book from the 1980s.” She stopped at the shelf and tapped the spine. “Dystopian future, marriage law, regulations on bearing children.” She glanced up at him and he was watching her face. “In my opinion the Muggle book is better, but no one’s heard of it here, so…” If it is I’m screaming and just FYI my heart is clearly now forever marred by your insane writing.

Isn’t that crazy? That chapter was published before Manacled was even on Ao3, but you’re right about the reference to Handmaids Tale! That was actually me doing a “the book is better than the series” thing.

Anonymous said: Hate how you've conditioned me into automatically thinking Draco and Hermione are the components of an idiot sandwich. Fic doesn't even have a mutual pining, unrequited but I've been conditioned so... 🙃🤪🙃🤪

Anonymous said: As 2020 wraps up and as I am reflecting on how crazy this year was- I can truly say the Auction was a huge part of getting me through it. Working as a nurse through this pandemic has been rough but I could always count on late Sunday nights getting a taste of the spectacular art you created week after week. So thanks for helping my 2020 be a little more survivable! Can’t wait to read what you put out next!

Anonymous said: i loved the auction, i think i finished it in a day and it’s literally the ONLY dramione fic that I’ve read and didn’t want to finish because I didn’t know what to do after I’d read it it was that good😭I really liked the way you wrote Hermione when she was occluding and the part where Draco asks Hermione what she needs really stuck with me because when it’s set in a darker scenario, the setting gets so much more intense and the scarifices you make for the ones you love get tougher and more sincere like in a life or death situation who would really go there for you. Narcissa was speaking facts “Once they've underestimated you — strike.” You should be proud of the work you’ve produced no matter what people say, I am looking to forward to reading more of your writing 💜

livinginalandfill said: I just finished reading The Auction and I just wanted to say that what you created was a work of art. The prose, characters, and the plot were magnificent. The entire work kept me on my toes and was pulling on my heart strings at the end of each chapter. All the references to the prior fics in the series killed me everytime. Truly a masterpiece!

thebishopkate said: Hey, hi, I just read all the "Rights and Wrongs" series, and, first of all, your writing is so fucking amazing!!! I was so invested in the romance, this universe that you created, everything was fantastic. And "The Auction", holy shit. It's been a while that I had anything to read that pulled so many visceral reactions from me. Really, you're an amazing, fantastic, wonderful writer

thebishopkate said: Oh, and the Ron bit at the end? I was crying my eyes out! Throughout the canon, I've always thought that Hermione was too good for him. But that dialogue? So many feels, I can't' even fully express myself. Really, congrats, you're an amazing writer (I'm kinda hoping you write some more Draco POVs for The Auction). This series was everything, thank you!!

Anonymous said: i finally finished THE AUCTION today and i am freaking out!!!!! 😩😩😩 the way that it ended was PERFECT 😩😩😩😩😩 thank you for putting a close to the story, i binged the first 30 chapters before waiting for the updates. and then i couldnt make it last long enough so i waiiiiiiited until it finished and now it's finished and i'm so grateful for you 😭😭😭 thank you. this is coming from someone who, at age 10, had an unfinished dramione as her favourite fic. it was never completed so i developed a trauma for WIPs, but i'm so so glad i latched onto the auction nevertheless. my world is better for it. THANK YOUUUU SO MUUUUCH

[purrincesskittens]

Bustier Salt with Lila and Chloe redemption maybe with Caline's former students just ripping into Caline?

Lila had been exposed and it was something she wasn't happy with. She didn't get expelled but she did end up getting inhouse suspension so she couldnt miss anymore school then she already had. Ms. Bustier wasn't in charge of the suspension so Lila actually got the help she needed to get caught up to pace for her grade level. She's smart and it wasn't that difficult for her to get caught up it was more of a matter of getting her to focus and do the work. Trained professionals worked with her in and out of school to help her be able to be integrated back into society. Her mother spent time with her more often and gave her the attention she wanted so she was improving. Test groups where Lila was introduced to peers her own age showed they would take what she said with a grain of salt and were cautious but willing to be civil and friendly towards her. Unfortunately when she was to be placed back into a class Ms. Bustier somehow manipulated it so that she had Lila back in her class.

Chloe was improving separated from Sabrina who was placed in a different class Chloe was actually doing her own work. Well when she bothered turning it in anyway. Her father was no longer Mayor anymore removing the influence and power that backed her. Election time had come and gone and new term limits prevented her father from running again. Ladybug entrusting her with a different miraculous during a incredibly difficult akuma where she was running out of options worked wonders surprisingly. What Chloe didn't tell anyone was Wayzz had been willing to work with her into improving herself to be a better person. Having the miraculous of protection which did far less damage than the bee did also helped. She was improving slowly. She apologized to everyone she had ever bullied and had been forgiven by Marinette at least who was willing to try to be her friend in class. Ms. Bustier still babied her though and left it up to Marinette to chastise her when she acted up and left it up to Marinette to be a good role model for her. Unfortunately her transfer request to a different class was rejected after Ms. Bustier convinced the principal it was a better idea to keep her with her friend and role model Marinette who she said didn't want to leave her other friends in the class and had only put in her own transfer request to make Chloe feel better.

Lila shifted uncomfortably in her seat in the back Chloe and Marinette sat across from her but she could still feel the occasional glare from the others as one turned in their seat to look at her. She really wished she had been put in a different class. One that would give her a chance to show she has improved. Marinette sent her a sympathetic look. Marinette and Chloe had been the only two willing to give her a chance. Adrien had been but he was moved to a different class along with Sabrina. Ms. Bustier kept a tight grip on her students determined not to let any of the others slip through her grasp and escape to a different class.

"Okay class today we will be having some of the older students from this school and a few former students post graduates of my class come in to speak to you about your last few years of school and entering the work force. We will start with the current students and move onto my former students. Shall we begin?" Ms. Bustiers smiled as she clapped her hands gesturing to one of the older students to start. An older brunette girl stepped forward to talk about the increased workload and more difficult assignments and how to manage your time and priorities to ensure you complete everything on time and accurately. Another older boy stepped forward to talk about balancing social life with school work and making sure you don't fall into the wrong crowd which sparked a comment from Alya who still hadn't forgiven Lila and blamed her for her ruined blog. "We already know about the wrong crowd and we refuse to be a part of it. If Marinette wants to hang out with bullies so be it."

This caused both the older students and Ms. Bustiers former students to frown as Ms. Bustier completely ignored the interruption and moved them on to the next student. A familiar dark haired older boy stepped forward next causing Marinette to perk up and wave at Itsuki who gave her a small smile in return. "I'll be talking about exclusion and how it can be just as bad as physical bullying." He announces. Ms. Bustier frowns at this as a murmur runs through her class. "Now now I don't think we need to talk about that no one is being excluded in my class or bullied so there is no need to be talking about that." She says gently trying to guide the conversation back to what she wanted and moved onto her former students who would be sure to talk about the message she had taught them during their time as her students.

"Excuse me Ms. Bustier but bullying is an important topic to talk about because it doesn't just end in lower secondary or collège as its called here. It can happen up through lycée and in the workplace as well." Another older boy in jeans and a loose band tee with long dirty blonde hair stepped up next to Itsuki. "Your students comment just now can be taken as verbal bullying. Bullying is serious and needs to be addressed so your students understand the difference between exclusion for the purpose of being mean and just being excluded because your not friends with a certain group. Take Itsuki and me for example we both know Marinette and a few others in this class and sometimes hang out with them but not everyone in this class do we hang out with. Those we don't hang out with may be excluded from a group activity we are doing but not for the purpose of being mean but simple because they aren't a part of our friend group. Excluding one particular person or a small group of them from a class activity such as a field trip or dance is bullying. " JJ explains trying to get their message across only to be brushed off by the teacher much to his frustration.

"My students aren't doing that Marinette is just being difficult is all. If she hadn't made trouble in the first place she wouldn't feel like she is being excluded which she isn't all she has to do is apologize and be a good role model and everything will go back to the way it was." Ms. Bustier waved the two older boys off giving her star pupil a bright beaming smile. "Let's move on shall we my former students still haven't had a chance to talk and we are running out of time." They still had plenty of time for Itsuki and JJ to talk as well as the post graduates but Ms. Bustier wasn't going to listen to anything she didn't want to hear. "Now Delphine and Adam it's your turn to speak and I know you guys will set a wonderful example for my current students after all you two were some of my best students and now look at how successful you are." With a wave the teacher gestured for the two adults to step forward completely oblivious to the deep frowns on their faces or the scowl she was receiving from JJ behind her.

"You're still going on about being a role model to other students? I would have thought you would have given up on that after what happened with Eve." Adam commented arms crossed. "Now Adam I know you and Eve were close but..." Adam interrupted his former teacher before she could continue. "We were cousins. Family of course we were close. We were not dating like many thought something you never bothered to correct. You knew we were related to each other but you stood there and did nothing while our classmates spread it around the school that we were dating. Eve was bullied for supposedly dating her cousin by others in the school." Ms. Bustier interrupted him with a gasp and a hurt expression unable to belive her own former student her shining example for his graduating class would speak to her like this. "I didn't know you two were related why didn't you say something?"

Adam growled glaring, "We did say something we said numerous times we weren't dating and all it would have taken was a look into our files to see that our mothers were twin sisters not that you ever did so. You never checked anyones records for anything. You saw Eve being bullied but did nothing to stop it simply told her to set a good example and show those bullying her how to behave. And you know how that ended don't you? Eve didn't even make it to graduation. She committed suicide halfway through our Première year because she was being bullied so bad she couldn't take it anymore. "

A silence fell across the classroom as the current students took in what was just said. JJ couldn't help but rub at the tattoos that covered his wrists and inside of his forearms feeling the raised marks the art hide. Delphine was the one to break the silence next. "You seemed to think I was successful but let me tell you something. I only just became successful within the past year. You want to know why it took me so long when I was on the fast track to success while still in school? It's because I dropped out of University and ended up in a mental hospital for over a year after I had a nervous breakdown and couldn't pull myself together. All thanks to your teachings on being a good example, being a role model and let's not forget all the pressure and expectations you placed on me."

The woman scoffed giving her former teacher a cold look before continuing."I couldn't say no to anyone and took on more than I could handle. You pressured me into a career choice that I didn't even want to do all because I wasn't sure what exactly I did want to do so you pushed me into being a surgeon just because I was fascinated by human biology. You pushed me into that. You were the one who pushed me into the path of the breakdown and you know something? You really shouldn't be a teacher."

Bonus: "I didn't even have anything to do with Lila being exposed. That was all Uncle Jagged. It's not like I told him to come to my school. I can't control what he does. He's Jagged he does what he wants." Marinette mutters from her seat in the back. Chloe snorts holding back a laugh. "Yeah and what he wanted was for you to design him a jacket like the one you made Luka and he just couldn't wait till you got home and just had to come marching into the school while it was in session to commission you. And then Alya couldn't keep her big mouth shut and thrust her phone in his face wanting to know all about how Lila saved his kitten."

[shotosprincess]

When he loves me — Iwa ♡︎ Oikawa

LISTEN TO: “ CLOUD 9 “ — BEACH BUNNY

ART: UNKNOWN ( i found it as a sticker on picsart since i couldnt find any good iwaoi screencaps so if yk who the artist is plspls lmk !! ty !! )

｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

pairing: iwa x oikawa

summary: iwa shyly plays oikawa a song he wrote on a whim ,, and years later ,, after they fell apart ,, oikawa attends one of iwa’s concerts and hears their song,, the song,, once more .

genre: angst + fluff !! <3 ugh i love oikawa my bby but i absolutely love him and iwa together sm too ajjdjjf

a/n: 3am writing for comfort innit (•̀ᴗ•́)و smhsmh it’s lowkey so dramatic ?? idk why i was feeling so melancholic ?? but i live for the yearning anyways lmao <//3

“ Hey...wanna...hear something I’ve been working on? “

Iwa’s voice shifted to one of a far softer tone, unusually uncertain of himself as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him in an anxious hold, turning away from Oikawa whilst a deep vermillion blush tainted his shy-stricken face.

The hazel-haired setter lifted his mouth into a gentle smile, skin mirroring a similar red to Iwa’s. His head lolled to the side, and Iwa swore he felt something flutter within him. The fist which he clutched the bedsheets within closed even further.

“ Sure, Iwa-chan! “

A hard gulp. Iwa swallowed his nerves down, fingers hovering over the strings of his freshly-purchased guitar, hesitant. Trembling, even.

Light wisps of brown swept just over Oikawa’s eyes as he put down the volleyball he had been mindlessly spinning, and covered Iwa’s hands with his own. He looked up with a reassuring grin, deepened-honey gaze colliding with one of the enchanting midnight sky.

“ It’s okay. It’s just me. But of course, you don’t have to play if you don’t wan— “

Iwa swats his hand away. “ Of course I wanna, dumbass! “ He barked.

With a frustrated huff, his fingers find a home amongst the sound as they begin to delicately strum the translucent strings. His eyes fell closed, lost in the music, albeit fairly cliche, as he wordlessly played the song which was most special to him.

For what reason it held such a cherished place in his heart, he did not know. Not truly, at least. Admittedly, he had written it purely on a whim, clutching onto the fleeting remnants of a foreign euphoric high. The crazed rush of fingers furiously clacking against the keyboard filled the silence of his room, lasting well into the evening. He had so much to say, so much to express, and yet it was only through the words appearing on the screen in which he could ever hope to communicate it.

He had never even planned on sharing it. After all, it was merely a crappy, rushed song put together purely by the rawness of an unknown emotion, and during ungodly hours of the night out of all times. It was nothing special, really.

To him, at least.

And yet in a hushed, timid tone, he began to sing:

“ I don’t wanna seem the way I do...but I’m confident when I’m with you... “

Oikawa’s lips parted in sheer awe. The delicate swirls of the instrumental blended flawlessly into the angelic quality of Iwa’s singing. His muscles tensed. He shook it away.

What the hell is this? Was he...nervous? No, no, it can’t be. This is Oikawa-fucking-Tooru we’re talking about!

He could do nothing but stare intently in a silent adoration as he allowed his heartbeat to meld with the smoothness of the melody, sweeping him out of Iwa-chan’s bedroom and into a whole other universe entirely. One where there exists no pain, no sadness, no fear. One where tears dried before they could even splatter upon the ground. One where everything was happy and perfect and...good.

—

IWA

Five years have passed, yet I miss him all the same. If anything, the ache has only grown to, somehow, prove itself increasingly unbearable over the time we’ve spent apart. My stare falls upon my guitar. Not the new one, which is this modern, flashy model with a bold red design, but my first-ever guitar, boasting its worn-out strings and dulled body. The hole in my heart digs itself impossibly deeper.

We had dated not long after that night—the night I played my song to him, and suddenly it became our song. We would whip it out like a handy party trick whenever we’d hangout with the rest of the team, and it was...nice to say the very least. Well, while it lasted, of course. Highschool love, teenage love, is constantly fleeting. Temporary. That was my philosophy at least, until Oikawa Tooru appeared and changed everything. I disregarded every sense of rationality, and all for the blissful rush of romance which he offered. The sneaking out, the small notes snuck into each other’s lockers, the way he draped his jacket over me when I got cold, the tender kisses shared in a darkened room.

I loved it. All of it. And when I lost him, I missed him too. All of him.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. After all, teenage love is but a transient feeling, is it not? I had to drill the reiteration of my old motto back into my head when we split, so that I may never allow myself to yield to the temptations of love, or at least the attractive promise of one, ever again. Eventually, we had to go our separate ways. He pursued volleyball, and I chased relentlessly after a different growing passion of mine, though honestly rather unexpected; music.

And now here I am. Sitting backstage at my own show, waiting patiently for my cue. My foot taps a random rhythm against the floor as I mentally debate with myself whether or not my choice for the opening song truly was the best option.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

He might be watching.

Fair, but would he even recognize me? Does he even remember me at all? I mean, it’s been so long...

I think he’d remember something as sentimental as the song you first played him. I mean, you were the first guy he ever dated.

Yeah, keyword: “ dated “. He’s probably moved on by now.

Shit, do you think he’s found someone new already? What if he brought them to the show?

Nah, nah. That’s highly unlikely. Impossible, even. The latter, that is. It’s not exactly that popular of a show.

Right, you’re right. So there’s nothing to worry about. Hakuna-fuckin-matata, right?

I suck in a sharp breath as the lights come on, laughing dryly.

Hakuna-fuckin-matata.

—

OIKAWA

My hands fiddle with one another as I push my way past the busy crowd to find a spot amongst the front row. A cheery girl with astonishingly-saturated red hair and an almoat-overwhelming brightness about her, greets me. I scoff, amused.

A fangirl, no doubt. Charming.

“ Oikawa! Ohmygoshohmygosh, Oikawa Tooru!! Hi!! I’m—I’m— “

I glance at the front row, which is only a few steps away, as her blubbered words start to blur together. I laugh.

“ A fan, right? Want my autograph or something? A picture, maybe? “

Her eyes light up vastly and she begins to bounce up and down with the same enthusiasm I’ve noticed to be common among practically all fangirls.

“ YES! Ohmygosh, yesyesyesYES!! “

My grin widens as I click my blue pen, which I carry around for autographs ( oh, the pains of being famous ), and hurriedly sign my name on her collared shirt. It was a fairly pretty garment, I’ll admit, but at this moment I didn’t really care, and I’m sure neither did she, judging by the way she squealed excitedly and took a spam of what had to be a million-and-one selfies with it.

I finally find a place among the jumping people at the front, taking in the atmosphere. The lights dim, and brighter white ones turn on in their place.

The show is about to start.

—

IWA

“ Hey, everyone. I— “ The mic whines with feedback. I wince, wrapping my free hand around it and trying again.

“ I’m—I’m opening with a song that’s very dear to me. I wrote it way back in highschool, but it’s always stuck with me, kinda like a safety net...of sorts. I uh, hope you enjoy. “

Shit, why am I being so damn awkward? I’ve never been this awkward before a show. Maybe it’s because of that damn opening song. Oh well. Too late to back out now.

Irritated, I push the thought away, wetting my lips as the drowning claps and whoops from the crowd cheer me on. My hand hovers just over the strings. It’s shaking. No matter. I close my eyes, and imagine him holding them. Him encompassing my hands within the warmth of his, just like he did all those years, which were now lost in the past. Him looking at me, him telling me it’s okay. Him.

I breathe all my nerves out.

Him.

And I begin to play.

The awkwardness melts away almost instantaneously as I pour every dripping ounce of my heart out into the song, the music swelling wildly with every emotion I had forced in for the dreariness of these five years. My eyes shoot open when the chorus hits. I feel like I’m king of the world.

I catch a familiar set of eyes. Richly brown. Deep.

Oh shit.

My breath hitches when I realize who they belong to; Him. His. He-

No, no, it couldn’t be. Could it?

It felt too real, as if I’ve somehow managed to reduce his very existence to nothing but romanticized self indulgent daydreams of what we once had, woven into the vast vagueness of song lyrics with a naïve hope of what could’ve been. And now here he was, at my concert of all places, for god knows what reason. The colourful lights fell upon his face in the most flattering manner, though admittedly I suppose anything would be flattering on him either way. But under this light especially, at my concert, he looked nothing short of perfect. Of lovely.

But of course he was. This was Oikawa-fucking-Tooru, after all.

The chorus hits with a sharp accent. I belt with all that I am, for the boy who took a rough sketch of a dream and made it reality, for the boy who found an unmatched sense of home among those of his highschool volleyball team, for the boy who wound up so foolishly falling in love with his best friend. For him, for my fans, but most of all, for me.

“ But when he loves me, I feel like I’m floating, when he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody— “

I maintain eye contact with him. It’s scary, burning holes into my tattered soul, which I had pieced together so carefully with cathartic lyrics scratched into the pages of creased notebooks. I’m secretly scared that his gaze will somehow break it all down again. But that’s when I finally understand; it’s him. This, this song, it’s about him. It’s always been about him. There will be no one else, could be no one else for me. That...sheer elation, the unfiltered emotion which sparked this song to begin with—I understood now. That was love. More specifically, love which my chest held for Oikawa. It’s as if I’ve been harshly disillusioned to see what I’d been unconsciously denying all these years, seeing him here. It’s always been Oikawa. How could I not have known? After all, I’m constantly recalling the day he held me in a tight embrace after one of our best matches, happy tears staining my damp jersey as he whispered in my ear the praise I’ve subconsciously always wished to hear.

“ You did good. “

Though it seems painfully mundane, simple to anyone else, it was...different, coming from his lips, hearing it in his voice. I took that compliment and kept it close to me for all eternity, immortalizing it within the varying notes of this song. I stare right back at him with a newfound fervour, an unknown intent, a epiphanic strength.

“ Even when we fade eventually to nothing, you will always be my favourite form of lovely. “

His eyes widen.

—

OIKAWA

My heart clenches as Iwa freely powers through the rest of the song. But during this moment, it feels as though it was created solely for us. As if the universe, as if fate itself had decided that despite the harshness of this world, and every little force fighting to keep us apart, this one moment, if anything, was ours. Truly ours. Our song, our moment. Ours. Time suspended itself indefinitely as the onyx hearth of his gaze finally met with mine. Unexpectedly enough, it stayed there.

And everything fell into place.

The song didn’t take me to a paradise without tears, or pain, or sorrow anymore. It took me to a place with Iwa in it. I realize now that...I want the tears. I want the pain. I want the grief. I want the good and the bad and the light and the dark, so long as I can have Iwa there with me through it all. I want him. All of him. I’ve want to love him enough to love his “ unglam “ moments and his admirable aspects all the same. I want to be there with him through every body-wrecking tear, every hearty laugh, and every glimmer of happiness. I want to be able to see the face he makes during a scary movie, to open an umbrella for him during the rain. I want to see the sunlight glow upon his cheek, I want to count the stars with him until I fall asleep. I want everything about him, for to me, he is everything. And it’s this song...this damned song which brought it all back.

It was ours. And I realize now...it was about...me. I mean, I’ll admit that I’ve always been a little more on the conceited side, but how could you deny it? It had to be. It had to. Had to. I wanted it to, at least. I wanted it to be about me so desperately, it sent a cold pain through my chest. A single, lonely tear falls down my cheek as the crowd around me erupts into a sea of laughter and off-tune singing from the audience.

What if it wasn’t? I mean, you guys broke up. You told him you moved on. Yes, it was a lie to lessen the pain, but he didn’t know that. What if it was about someone else completely and you’d just been an idiot this whole time? What if—

The concert comes to a close much faster than I thought it would, much faster than I would’ve ever wished for it to. I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, but my legs move before I even have a chance to question them. I’ve always been one to think before acting, hence why I’m such a star on the court, but this time, my emotions seem to be taking over. I don’t know what’s come over me, what this unusual, hot feeling is. It’s exciting and intimidating all at once, and I hate it because I know what it must be. In a hot flash, I find myself standing at the door of Iwa’s changing room. How many bodyguards I must have recklessly shoved out of the way to get here in the blur of adrenaline, I don’t even want to begin to think about.

My hand freezes over the door. “ Iwa “ is engraved in bold gold letters with a deeply-etched star sticking out at the bottom. Taking a deep breath, I knock frantically.

“ I-Iwa-chan? It’s uh...it’s Oikawa. “

—

IWA

I pause in the midst of buttoning up my shirt. A solid three are left undone. But his voice...how could I ignore it? Ignore him? I haven’t heard his voice in what feels like eternity, but I’d be kidding myself if I had said I’d forgotten it. The constant yearning was always so irritating. Such a pain. At least it made for decent music, I mean, I’ve been booking shows. But alas, one problem before another.

“ O-Oikawa? “ I slowly pace to the doorknob as I twist it open.

Holy shit.

It is him after all. He hasn’t changed a bit. He remains the charming, handsome man I remember him to be, even after all this time has passed.

“ How’d you get—why are you here? “

“ Iwa, there’s...there’s just...there’s something I need to ask. “

“ Huh? “

“ That song...our song.... “

“ Shit, right! I, uh...sorry. I didn’t ask you about it because I honestly didn’t expect you to show up at all. It’s been what, five years? “ I stumble subtly over my words, rubbing the back of my neck.

He turns away sheepishly. Almost...longingly, even.

“ Yeah...it has. “

He clicks his tongue.

“ Who, uh...who was that song about? The curiosity’s been eating at me. “

A heat rises to my cheeks. A pause.

“ I—It—Ugh, fuck it. “

I’ve never been the best at talking directly to Oikawa, not since I realized that what I felt for him extended to something past the bounds of friendship. So I decided to do the only thing I knew to do in that moment—show him instead.

My lips crash against his as he slams the door behind him. The palpable tension between us is shattered immediately, and everything is faded out into insignificance. All that matters is the man in my arms, the man I’d been longing so desperately, so hopelessly for all this fucking time. I kiss him against the smoothness of the door, hands immediately trailing to his soft locks. I twirl and twine them as I see flashes, bright hues of heaven itself. His lips upon mine are the most perfect fit. His touch is painfully intoxicating, and I show him, wordlessly, with an unparalleled fervour—just who the song was about. He melts into it, matching my energy with a foreign sense of passion.

—

OIKAWA

“ Do you think...the universe is gonna try to separate us again? “ I ask softly, voice barely even a whisper. Tears wet my lashes at the very thought of being without him again. For those five years, though I was living my dream...it didn’t feel complete. Not without him. I blink them away aggressively, focusing on the night sky above us. My head is resting in his lap, and we’re simply...existing together beneath the curtain of darkened pools which hung above our twined bodies.

Iwa strokes my hair nonchalantly as he interlocks his fingers with mine. “ Of course. It always will. But we found each other didn’t we? And even after...even after this life has passed and we’re reduced to nothing but ash, I’m convinced we’ll meet again. One way or another. “

He tucks a straying tuft of hair from brushing my lashes.

“ Even then...even then you’ll still be my favourite form of lovely. Or whatever. “ He scoffs at his own over-poetic response, looking away with a tiny smirk.

“ Okay, Mr. Songwriter! “ I tease, nudging his side in a playful manner.

He rolls his eyes, bending down to kiss me once more.

For the first time in a long time, I feel complete. I’m on cloud 9.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Peculiars (Pt.1)

-------------------------

Patton Boleyn was a special child, not necessarily special in the way most would describe. He was smart, yes, but he was average smart. He was skilled in things like singing art and cooking, but not profesionally.

Looking at Patton most would assume he was completely ordinary, and he was for the most part.

But Patton could do things most humans couldnt. Most people would watch him sitting in fields and wading through lakes and rivers and say it was just him being a normal energetic child.

Patton's parents knew better, they saw the way the flowers moved to face their son, and the way the lake seemed to become empty in the spots Patton swam in.

Patton's father said they would have to keep him inside for his safety, his parent said that Patton's gift was one to be nurtured, not locked away from the rest of the world.

Patton hated the days they would argue. The way his father's eyes would narrow as he yelled at his spouse over a petty incident of a flower growing quicker than it should in the school yard. The way his parent's hand clutched the nearby table as they struggled not to raise their voice at their husband.

The day Patton asked to go to the pool was the last straw. His father had panicked, words were exchanged that Patton wouldnt forget for years. So Patton and his parent had packed up their things and left. Patton found out later that they hadnt been happy in the marriage with his father either way, so Patton was glad both of them had escaped.

That was how the first nine years of Patton's life had gone, and the next five had been full of Patton hiding his gift from everyone except his parent.

They had the most vibrant garden in the neighborhood, and a little pond with a small waterfall in the backyard. Patton would watch the koi swim through the pond, manipulating the water to small bubbles occasionally so he could lift the fish out of the pond without hurting them. He had to stop doing that when the neighbor tried to catch it on camera and call the police.

Patton didn't mind having to hide, but sometimes it hurt, he felt wrong, he wanted to run around in lakes and fields like he used to, wanted to watch the water ripple under his hands, and flowers bloom where he walked. But it wasnt safe anymore, people were scared, they wouldnt trust someone like him.

Today felt different, he'd woken up same as usual, to his parent's voice calling him down for breakfast, their soft brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was almost identical to his own, only a little darker, and a lot less healthy from all their years of dying it as a teenager, they'd told Patton that if he ever wanted to dye his hair he would have to wait a while between sessions so it wouldnt fall out.

Then he'd gone to school and had a perfectly ordinary day, he'd done well in his classes, he talked to other students, and he hadnt caused a single flower to bloom or ripple in a puddle of water.

He was beginning to think that the feeling he'd had this morning was just nerves, until he walked home to find his parent on the front porch with a woman who had white hair with streaks of pink and blue. The woman was smiling and talking to his parent, who's face was one of shocked Awe and silence.

"Patton! There you are!" His parent threw their arms around him.

"What's going on? Who's this?" Patton put his hands in his pockets, an expression of concern on his face.

"Mrs. Hera Raven, she runs a school for kids like you," Patton's jaw clenched.

"You're not sending me away are you? I haven't done anything wrong!" Patton stepped back, he'd almost tripped into the street before his parent caught his arm, their deep blue eyes were full of a mix of sorrow and understanding.

"No one is saying you've done anything wrong dear, but people with your talents arent safe out here, Mx. Boleyn has agreed to let me take the two of you somewhere safer," Mrs. Raven was smiling, Patton noticed her lipstick was an odd blood-red color. Patton looked between the two adults, the confusion in his face only becoming more pronounced.

Mrs. Raven's face shifted suddenly to one of fear, "we need to leave, quickly, follow me," she gestured to a car.

A few minutes of driving later they had come upon a collection of oddly shaped rocks, and disappeared through the center of them.

"Now hurry up hurry up, we'll be safe once we're at the school," Mrs. Raven said, ushering them through the woods. Eventually they came upon a large building, it was made of bricks and stone, and the brick was painted black.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Patton said, fidgeting with his clothes.

Mrs. Raven looked around for a few seconds, Patton noticed that, rather than both her eyes being the bright green he thought they were, one was a striking yellow color.

"Patton, you are what we call a peculiar child, it's a recessive gene in families that manifests in, as you might call them, supernatural abilities in children," she said.

"You mean theres more kids that can do what I can?" Patton said.

"Well, not exactly what you can do, they all have their own abilities, you can meet more of them here," Mrs. Raven said.

"Oh, and the main rule, now that you're here, you cant leave, if you leave the loop you will be in danger once it resets," Patton opened his mouth to ask another question.

"Loops are rewind in time created by ymbrenes like myself, they are used to protect peculiar children such as yourself, some of the children within this loop have been here for nearly one hundred years, if they were to leave, they would age until-" Patton's parent covered his ears.

"So what about Bon?" Patton asked, looking up at them.

"The same rule applies to humans, typically parents who accompany their children to the school become members of staff, it's actually quite good for the children to have multiple parental figures," Mrs. Raven said with a grin.

"Patton, I'm gonna let you go make friends while I go with Mrs. Raven ok?" Bon smiled, running their hand through Patton's hair.

"Ok Bon," Patton said. He watched the two adults leave before finally walking into the main portion of the courtyard. There were dozens of children chasing each other and playing around, and adults talking to each other on the sidelines while watching their children.

"Watch out!" Patton barely had time to react before a basketball came hurling it's way across the garden, a tree branch curled it's way around the object just before it made contact with his face.

"Wooooaaaahhh! Awesome!" Patton moved the tree back into the ground, picking the basketball up and turning on the direction of the voice. A boy that looked a year or two older than him, with red eyes and the wisp of a mustache, was smiling brightly at him.

"So you can make trees huh? That's cool," he said as he took the basketball out of Patton's hands.

"I can control water to," Patton whispered, shuffling his feet in the grass.

"Remus! Who's that!" Another boy ran over to them, this one had bright green eyes and a mass of red hair.

"New kid, he makes trees," Remus said with a grin.

"Well come on, it's your turn," said the boy.

"Can we call it a tie for today, I wanna show him around," said Remus. The other boy nodded and ran off to a group of five other boys.

"Well, I'm Remus Duke-Prince, and I can reanimate the dead," Remus said. Patton blinked a few times while trying to process this, earning a laugh from the boy.

"Patton Boleyn, I can manipulate earth and water, which I guess are kind of similar since they both make up the actual planet anyways," Patton mumbled, tapping his fingers together.

"Boleyn? Like as in beheaded Anne Boleyn?" Remus said. Patton nodded and flinched slightly as Remus let out a loud howl of laughter.

"Come on- let me introduce you to my favorite people here," Remus said, grabbing Patton's arm and running over to the group of six.

"Everyone, this is Patton, Patton, this is Roman, Logan, Virgil, Janus, Emile, and Remy," Remus said, pointing at each of the boys in turn.

"Roman Prince-Duke, yes, I'm related to the rat," Roman said, picking up a rock and holding it out in front of Patton. Patton was about to take it from his hand before Roman closed his fingers around it, when he opened them again a light blue gemstone had taken its place.

"He makes rocks boring," Remus said, laughing. Roman let out an annoyed huff before fixing the gem into a silver necklace and clasping it around Patton's neck.

"Logan Mercedes," said the boy next to Roman, he had fluffy brown hair that seemed pushed to one side of his head.

"I can breath underwater and see in the dark," Logan said before turning to the boy next to him.

"This is my boyfriend, Virgil," Logan said, moving a lock of vibrant purple hair out of Virgil's face.

"Do you want to show him?" Logan whispered to Virgil, who was fidgeting with his hoodie strings. Virgil gave a slightly nod and Logan pulled a rope out from his belt, wrapping it around Virgil's waist. Virgil bent down to unlock what seemed like iron boots fastened to his legs. The moment he'd stepped out from the shoes, the boy was a few feet above the ground, Logan holding the rope with one hand and Virgil's hand with the other. Logan helped Virgil back into the boots, fastening them back up before he took off the rope and placed it back on his belt.

"Virgil doesnt talk much," Remus said simply before turning to a boy with a large scar on his face. His skin was a dark brown, which made with yellow eyes stand out all the more obviously.

"Janus Allen, I can talk to animals," he said simply, bowing slightly and placing a kiss on Patton's hand, Patton noticed Remus shift slightly and let out a soft giggle.

"Remy Hypnos, and this is my little brother Emile," said the boy next to Janus, his skin was a lighter brown than Janus', and he was wearing sunglasses despite it not being very sunny out.

"Hes like medusa, and I can move stuff with my brain," Emile said, fidgeting with the bow in his hair.

"Well now that you've met all of us, welcome to the loner squad Patton," said Remus, clapping a hand on Patton's back with a grin. Patton thought he might enjoy it here much more than he'd first expected to.

----------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@nerosdayinhell

@meowthefluffy

@thecolorfulolive

@thefivecalls

@melodiread

@spooky-scary-virgil

@youtuberswithalex

@boobmaster69

@januses-nap-corner

[useless-moroccofacts]

Is it okay to know more of your thoughts on this? Ive seen people vague about it and its something thats been bothering me but I couldnt put a finger on it before. Ive seen west-based NA artists give their opinions about amazigh culture through western centric lenses ex: getting mad about madonna, colonial europe, etc but never touch upon arab nationalism\colonianism, prevalent issues going on in NA and how its contributed just as much to amazigh opression today

Hello, thanks for the ask, there’s a lot to go over here and it’s not possible for me to do so cohesively through a Tumblr reply but I will probably be making separate posts about different aspects of Amazigh politics vis-à-vis Arabization and “Arab colonialism”. Note that I’m putting it between quotation marks not because it’s not true (it is), but because we’re at a very early stage of understanding the dynamics Imazighen ppl living in NA have with their own culture and political regimes.

To put it simply, Arab colonialism spread through Tamazgha (or most of NA, except for eastern Egypt maybe) under the guise of Islamic enlightenment, which many Imazighen (being Muslim) are ‘grateful’ for. Ofc this wouldn’t make much sense if we don’t take into consideration how much of our history is erased and fragmented and how much Imazighen are detached from it (common colonialist process). I would say most Imazighen don’t know much about their own heritage other than material culture (food systems, fashion and arts), and even then, there’s a lot of conflation between different regions. 

To go back to your central point: Western NA ppl, academics in particular, benefit from a freedom of speech Imazighen living in NA don’t have and never did in our era. This is very important since it’s this freedom that allows for an understanding of the power dynamics at play in Amazigh culture, and personally I don’t think I would have been able to understand them this much if it weren’t for the western side of the Internet, though I am critical of it. 

I think what you implied about cultural appropriation (the madonna thing, among many others) is relevant but if I were living in the west and had the power to express myself that much it would have been the least of my worries lmao. I mean yes i would be pissed about it, but there’s so much to amazigh struggle to deter and deconstruct about Amazigh politics that it wouldn’t have taken much of my attention. Additionally, I’m more concerned about the arab cultural appropriation (as mentioned in my previous post) than the western one, since it’s literally a taboo no one knows about.

Lastly, when I saw posts about the Madonna thing going around, I made a brief comment about how some Moroccans wouldn’t even consider it a bad thing, and that most ppl over here would think of it as a celebration or smthg, I received a couple of threatening msgs from western NA bloggers, which was very telling. Anyways, I think it’s equally important to analyze what we mean by “western lense” bc most of it is just common sense that westerners have the right to voice out bc of better freedom of speech lmao, but I do get your point.

This was supposed to be a much shorter answer but let me know if I missed your point.

[mentalamusings]

i dont know why i feel so compelled to write this

its been on my head since thursday night

its just was triggered by my sense of not wanting to switch off youtube. i had a want to keep on playing all those nct videos.

i feel like they have become my emotional support at a time when i am doing quite badly and they became a great inspiration

Whilst I was jobless for 2 weeks, I found them on an mbti video which speaks about songs that each type vibes with

and the songs were bangers

it felt like every song from their pop songs were so lit

i couldnt stop listening all day.

i draw and listen to it, i eat and listen to it.

everything was just so wooooaaaahhh

And I kinda fell off the kpop train for sometime just because kpop industry is always being exposed for being evil, mistreatment and whatnot.

Its only because I really wanted to learn how to dance that I watched blackpink for a bit in March 2020 and now because of great music that I stayed with NCT.

I also really like the idea of NCT because I watched those crack videos where they just vibe and make jokes when they walk around town and how they feel so uncensored. The multilingual bit about them makes me very happy too because I stopped learning mandarin for sometime now and its just amazing to know that they too struggle to speak it but they still wanted to speak it.

So, i basically fell into the rabbit hole and felt quite happy to be there. They cheer me up during lunch and after work after I get shouted at for everything that i do wrong in the office. I watch their amazing talents in dance just to see if its even remotely possible that i could do their dances too.

but obviously, there will always being kpop tea videos that get recommended alongside all the happy ones and that reminded me so much of mistreatment of the members. also, how they get hated for doing controversial things like cultural appropriation or get sasaeng fans that stalk them.

so it shattered a bit of who they are. not that they were angels. but the idea that they were just artists that were able express themselves and their talents in all ways and forms uninhibited by the opinions and the media.

in a way i still really look up to them for it, especially the ones that get put in the SM dungeon or get super overworked. just because they show great resilience in their life. For people who are around the same age as I am and to endure hardship of a crazy schedule, being trained for work at teenage age and the opinions of the media and the mistreatment of a company. they are so resilient. and sometimes when i read fans comments on the videos which expresses what the members wants to do if they werent an idol makes me so sad because they have normal hopes and dreams too but they 'sacrificed' it for a life of dancing and singing on stage.

I put quote unquote sacrificed just because outside of vlive, i have no clue what they do.

i grew up at a young age in a foreign country, in a boarding school and even though i look like i gave everything up for education. i still had pockets of time to return home to see my family.

i think its during this period of time that i experienced that made me think that my life is not as far fetched as being a kpop idol lifestyle. i just studied extended periods of time rather than perform arts for extended periods of time.

what i sort of want to get to ultimately is just that this life of education only and nothing else can seem so toxic that it is unbearable. because it can cause me to wonder if i am able to be someone else in this lifetime. can i ever be able to cook, can i ever be able to enjoy dancing, can i ever be able to just go out and be a normal child and watch tv without guilt. ( i know others were able to balance this lifestyle in the same school as me but because of the money that was poured into my education, i sort of condemned myself into studying all the time and look down upon entertainment. no one else thought me how to think and how to feel.)

And i don't think what i am feeling is something other people have never felt.

people who thought something is their calling and they try their best to pursue it and but it never ever becomes rewarding unless they try to convince themselves every morning to love it no matter the hardship.

And when it goes wrong, there is no one who could really understand what happened. And we try to mask it with some other side hobby, or just go out and leave the dream behind for a bit until we can emotionally capable of taking it back up again. and during this period of isolation from our dream, people question what stupid thing we have done to ourselves. we think ourselves equally crazy but we cant help it but to numb the pain.

so i dont know what is going on within the walls of SM and such talented kpop idols such as nct.

i just want to say that i personally came to know Jesus through such bitter experiences just to be able to come to terms with so much unfairness in the world. And till today i still go through such bouts of anger, frustration and numbness but i dont have to feel helpless and useless in such times.

now i know why i wanted to write this haha

[demonboidies]

𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝔂 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓳𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷, 𝓴𝓲𝓶 𝓽𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰, 𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓰𝓾𝓴

pt. 6

word count; 4,855

<this is a yandere story, therefore this is a trigger warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, toxic relationships and overall unhealthy obsession towards the reader/mc/yn>

tag list: @taezeus​ @jooniescupcakes @aesthetically-messed-up @okpoke​  @aysha489​ @iwannabeanidol (comment under this post to be added, if you comment anywhere else i won’t see it)

➣park jimin

      23 years old with blonde hair (dna/mic drop era) and is an ambitious dancer, singer, and all around performer. he has been creative since he was a young child and it's a big part of his life.

you locked the door after telling Namjoon you had to pick up the boys. well, technically, you were picking jimin up for his lunch/co-curricular. then following that would be taehyung, and jungkook. they all had separate break times considering they had different schedules. the rest of the boys even noted to you that jungkook would spend extra hours in the practice room at their university. dancing his heart out, skipping his lunch.

so you had patiently waited outside the entrance of his school, where he said to wait for him. so when you saw a tuffle of blonde hair bounce amongst the other students, you smiled softly knowing that it was jimin.

so you waved to get his attention, successfully achieving it. he came over to you with a bright smile and the first words out of his mouth were, "Let's get tacos!"

you didnt argue, i mean who would. a brightly smiling park jimin is offering to eat tacos, now how does one reject such an offer.

so you drive to a local taco restaurant, jimin baking your ear off as to how good their carne asada is(today he was just craving tacos. so he ordered his food, as you did your own. and while you patiently waited, you began starting up conversation.

"so how were your classes?"

a groan left his lips. "excuse my french, but annoying as hell."

you had to hold in your laughter, he didnt even curse when he said to excuse his french. "and why were they annoying?" you took a sip from your drink as he ran a hand through his hair.

"dont get me wrong, i love dancing and singing and performing, but it's too technical! i dont know if it's just at this school or something, but these classes require me to take more notes than to actually exhibit my skill." you nodded, wishing you could say you could relate but obviously couldnt. you were glad as a college student to just take notes and learn a lesson through the day, work, and go to your dorm to just study more. jimin was the complete opposite. he had a drive of passion and you admired him for that. he had something to live, and you didn't know if it was dancing, nonetheless his love for performing amazedly amzed you.

"well, at least you get to perform at shows right? i mean, i can kinda relate with how boring lessons are, especially with the most boring of teachers. but at least you get to show how really talented you are, right?" you said with a weak smile. "hey, if it makes you feel any better...one time i tripped in front of a thousand people at my orientation."

it took less than a second for him to break out into a wide grin, his childish giggle ringing through your ear. "what does that have to do with anything?" he said through his boisterous laughter.

"absolutely nothing. just wanted you to feel better and cheer up a bit," you said with a shrug and light blush. i mean your plan worked, but he now just had potential blackmail on you.

your statement seemed to make his shoulders shake even more. "you're so amusing, noona~ ah, we're lucky to have you."

i'm lucky to have you

the twinkle in his eye made you smile wider, brushing off your embarrassment. "please, i'm lucky to have you guys. you guys are seriously too generous." his eyes turn into crescents, wordlessly nodding his head.

you ate your food in silence, eating quickly to fill your empty stomach. jimin was talking through the lunch period, filling you in on the past of the boys.

"jin, he's a next-to-be heir of his father's company. he is the main source of money that goes to our house, food, and generally everything. he's well put off, to make it simply." jimin stated when you asked about the eldest brother. "we all met in high school though. i was first friends with jungkook and yoongi, so i'm really the closest to them. but i treat all of them like they're my brothers. but soon after we became all really close, we got a lot of un-needed attention. we didn't like it, especially yoongi, jungkook, and i. our anxiety really kicked in during our highschool years. the attention was too much for us and we barely made it through our last year. so jin bought the house we live in now, which is far away from the town, because we didn't want to have anything to do with the townspeople after that."

your mouth formed into a small 'o', taking in all of that information. learning about how they were treated in highscool made you sympathsize with them. naturally, when there are several attractive, young men going to a school, the females (and males) will do anything for their attention. at least, that's what it's like in the TV shows. it all seems glorious, but hearing how much it affected them now was sadening. you could only think of how they were treated.

jimin's plump lips curled into a small smirk, seeing the flash of emotions cross your face. mostly were pity and sympathy, and it was a great feeling for him. you had trusted them and gotten close them so quickly in the few days you had been acquainted. if it continued up, jin's plan would be working perfectly.

'jin isn't the only proficient liar in the house, dear,' jimin thought, happy you had fallen so easily into the trap. however, it was just the beginning and they had to work even harder for you to become even closer.

"yeah, it was relly terrible. i hate to self-pity myself, but those girls there...were really out of hand. they would give obnoxious gifts, throw themselves onto us like we were zoo animals, and the way they acted surely would've disappointed their mothers and fathers." jimin said, a pout on his lips as he worked up tears. his eyes were glossing as he looked at you with a weak smile, "you aren't like that, right noona?"

your heart broke. the look of absolute sadness on his face was enough for you to grasp his hands into yours. "of course not, i wouldn't dare to even act like that. this is my job and no matter what, i will keep myself in check. i wouldn't want you boys to relapse or anything," a kind smile was on your lips, and jimin couldn't help but mimic your expression.

"thank you so much for agreeing to this job, although it might be a bit more than you bargained for," a light chuckle left his mouth as he wiped his eyes of his almost falling tears. you nodded slowly, looking down at your empty plate. you were ready to pack up and leave, considering you already paid for the bill. but when you looked up, you saw that jimin had barely eaten his burrito bowl.

"jimin, aren't you hungry?"

he looked at his plate, smiling nervously. "no, no. i already had a few bites, that's enough to suffience me for the rest of the day."

you recalled back to when you were reading their documents, remembering the eating disorder that was listed among his other diagnoses. a weak smile trailed your lips, picking up a spoon to scoop up some of his burrito bowl. "come on, just a few more bites. and if you don't want anymore, i'm sure the other boys will appreciate this."

so, when your crush of the longest time is holding out a spoon to you, begging you to eat you food, what're you gonna say? no?

"just one more bite," jimin said with a shy smile, his face a bright red. he had never thought he would be this close to you, you were feeding him food! his brain couldn't take it so he simply leaned forward to have a bite of his own food.

"there ya go," you said happily, glad you were able to get the poor man to eat something.

so you took the burrito bowl in a to-go box, driving jimin back since his lunch period was almost up. you had talked at the restaurant longer than you had expected.

"tae should be waiting in the same spot you picked me up at, but if he isn't you can text him." jimin said as he got out of the car. he was leaned down, arm resting on the top of the car so he could talk to you.

"text me when he comes so i know he doesn't keep you waiting or something."

you both chuckled, until you heard a yell directed towards you two. "ya! jimin i'm not always late to things!"

➣kim taehyung

      23 years old. dark brown hair, almost black(LY:TEAR era). a photography major, travels far every now and then when he wants to capture the perfect image. treasures art since it has been apart of his life since he could remember.

jimin rolled his eyes, looking up at the new arriving male, "you usually are though." he argued as taehyung closed in on the car. he was now standing next to jimin with his boxy smile, eyes lingering with his for a moment. that is before he whipped his head to look at you.

"hi noona!" his cheerful tone made you smile and wave in greeting. "okay, jimin scadoodle, you got a class to catch." taehyung circled the car, opening up the passenger's seat and settling in.

jimin was reluctant to leave you alone with the hyper male, but he had no choice considering he did need to catch his class. "alright i'll see you at dis-"

"yeah yeah bye!" taehyung leaned over you lap, pulling your window up for you to shut the older one out. when it was sealed shut, taehyung looks at you excitedly. "what do you have in mind for the next 45 minutes noona?"

taehyung hasn't moved from your lap, cuing a blush to arise on your cheeks. "the park?" your tone was shaking out of nerves and because you were so flustered, then taehyung finally got off of your lap.

"sure i don't mind." he calmed down a bit, playing with his thumbs which laid in his lap. "but, would you mind if we stopped for ice cream?"

the familiar boxy smile was on his face as he waited for your response. you couldn't turn down the energetic boy's request even if you wanted to, it has to be illegal to say no to that face. so you exaggeratedly sighed in defeat, although the smile on your face proved to taehyung that you were in fact okay with getting ice cream. i mean ice cream in the park was an even better idea than the original you had proposed.

so you drove a little down the road and to the small ice cream parlor, where a nice old lady was waiting. she greeted you with a smile, but when she saw taehyung's figure her face turned a bit glum. you didn't miss it, but taehyung didn't catch it as he was too busy looking at the assortments of ice cream.

so you told the lady what you wished to order, she gladly taking it and putting the ice cream you wanted in a cup. taehyung looked up at her and her eyes once again turned a bit glum, face falling at the sight of his face. you ignored it and moved to the cashier, missing the deadly glare that taehyung gave her. if looks could kill she surely would've been dead.

another girl had gotten your order rung up at the cashier, what the other lady was doing you didn't care for. so you simply paid for the ice cream, going back to taehyung who was sitting at the table patiently.

"here is your ice cream taehyung, let's go to the park, yeah?" he nodded, smiling widely.

"we can go to the campus park, it's closer than the other one." taehyung informs and you didn't even bother arguing, the faster you could get back to pick jungkook up would be easier and more convenient anyway. so you drove according to his directions, parking in the open lot.

he eagerly hopped out of the vehicle, practically bouncing over to sit on one of the benches. miraculously, his ice cream was fine with all his erratic movement.

you locked the car door, joining him on the bench. you licked your ice cream and observed the scenery. it was a beautiful little park, a blue pond sitting in the corner of the landscape. trees were blooming, little pink buds at the end of several branches.

"so, noona," he started breaking the silence, "why did you become a maid rather than a translator?"

you thought for a moment, humming slightly in thought. "i mean, i would be happy with either jobs. but my friend was telling me about how her grandma had passed because no one was watching over her, it made me re-think my decision." you spoke the truth to taehyung, a soft smile on your face. "i got really lucky with this job, however. you guys are really too generous."

he shook his head and took a lick of his ice cream, "no, we just know how to treat people correctly. jin and yoongi are the heads of the house, unofficially but they are the most responsible, and they both agree that they both don't like it when people arent treated correctly. or aren't paid the amount they should."

your heart warmed at how sweet the two boys were. they were so considerate and kind, it was really heart warming to know there were people still like that.

"oh, i'm glad that they're equal minded. you all seem equal minded and open." he nodded in agreement to your words, an appreciative smile on his lips. you finished your ice cream and stood up to find a nearby trash can to throw the cup away.

"wait, i have another question, don't go yet," he said hurriedly, like he was afraid you were going to leave him at the park. his hand shot out to your wrist, holding you still.

a short chuckle left your lips, "tae, chill. I'm just going to throw this out."

he stared at you for a moment, "you promise?" the tone of seriousness laced in his voice was a bit alarming but you brushed it off. "yes, tae, i promise." he finally let you go, nodding slowly. as you walked to the nearby trashcan you could feel his eyes trail after you.

so when you joined his side, he clasped his hands with yours. "i'm sorry, just feeling a little stressed right now." he emphasized the word 'stressed' and you nodded. remembering on his file, it said too much stress could lead to an episode of his. you held his hand equally as tight, looking at him with a soft smile.

"i'm not gonna ask wh-"

"i thought you were going to leave me here," he said with a ragged breath, "it's a little thing, but i got worried, sorry. i get worried easily."

you nodded in understanding, waving your hand dismissively, "don't apologize. what were you wanting to ask earlier?" your thumb rubbed against the back of his hand and you didn't know how thankful he was for your touch. his worries were dying down already, positively because of your prescence and touch. if he was at home alone, he would've snapped already. you really were a blessing to have. it was a shame he had to share you.

"have you had any other jobs before this one?"

"yes, i did." you answered openly. "i was offered to be a translator for an american company stationed here. they needed a translator, but the way i was treated there made me quit. besides, that place had shut down a few weeks later, so i guess i got really lucky. after that i applied for a job at the nursing home. occasionally, i had side jobs to care for those with mental disorders and such."

he nodded along, already knowing that information. in fact, he felt he knew it too well. he remembered when jin had conveyed that message to him. he snapped that day when he heard you were being mistreated. he was also the one who wanted you to come and join them instead, encouraging the others to send that letter to you.

"i see, well the job must've sucked anyway." he said, beginning to lighten the mood. "we're happy we have you though. you're not the only grateful one~"

his comments made you smile, forgetting about what you were previously talking about.

"why are you so curious anyway?"

he lifted an eyebrow, pouting a bit, "can't be curious about our sweet little maid." your nose scrunched at the comment, not sure if it was a negative or positive.

"i mean, i guess you're right. curiosity did kill the cat though," you winked playfully, chuckling alongside him.

"however, i am satisfied with those answers." he smirked back, taking a bite out of his cone. as he chewed his phone began to ring. his hands were full however, one of his hands holding his cone, the other holding yours. his grip on your hand tightened a bit, telling you he didn't want to let go.

he nodded, saying it was alright to check his phone. so, hesitantly however, you grabbed his phone and your expression eased when you read the name.

'jungkookie'

"its jungkook."

"oh just answer it," he nods once again, "what does he need now?"

you swiped on the screen if his phone, putting it on speaker so taehyung could talk.

"what do you need kookie?" he spoke casually, biting off another piece of cone.

"i-i need you to come get me, please. i-can't b-breathe."

taehyung was more on guard now, getting up and biting down the last of the ice cream cone. "we gotta go back to the university. quickly." you swallowed harshly, getting up and starting the car. taehyung got in after you, calmly (surprisingly) speaking to jungkook on the other end.

"hey, kook, listen to me. i know it feels suffocating, but listen to me okay," heavy breathing was heard on the other end, "y/n is here, okay? she's here. she is here."

you glanced at taehyung questionably, wondering why it mattered whether or not you were, in fact, here.

"y-y-y/n?" his voice was shaky, hiccupping heard afterwords. "yo-you're there?" a strong wheeze was heard after that. it encouraged you to really race through the streets, no matter how close it was. he needed someone, now.

"yeah, i'm here. where are you jungkook? me and tae are gonna get you, okay? focus for a moment and tell us where you are." your words were rushed and you were afraid he wouldnt be able to comprehend what you were saying.

"eas-east building, floor-r 1, right by econ."

you shut your door, loud enough for a lot of people to stare in confusion. taehyung led you to the building and inside to where jungkook said he was.

you saw the younger boy, knees to his chest, tears streaming down his face, the hand clenching his phone so tightly you swore you almost saw a crack forming.

"kook!" taehyung called out, rushing to kneel by his younger friend's side. "you're okay. i got you, i got you."

➣jeon jeongguk

21 years old. medium dark brown hair(wings/ynwa era). takes singing and dancing seriously, passionate about both activities. has terrible anxiety, but still is able to attract all the girls on campus with his seemingly innocent and boyish look. however, jungkook only has his eyes on one girl.

jungkook shook his head 'no,' pushing past him to stumble to his legs. he got up and ran into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. his grip was tight around you, like he never wished to let go. softly, you could hear your name being muttered over and over. his body shook, the wetness of his tears soaking through your shirt's fabric.

"hey. it's alright, i'm here. i'm here, it's okay."

his body shook even more violently with his sobs, squeezing you even tighter. "do-don't go, st-stay."

"i'm not going anywhere. hey, breathe in and out with me, okay?" you didn't care about your surroundings and brought you two down to the ground. "look at me, listen to me."

he did as told, staring at you with his red, doe eyes. when you made sure he was paying attention, you took in deep breaths for him to mimic. his eyes stayed on your lips, following after you. although he did have hiccups in between some breaths, he managed to steady himself.

taehyung, slightly jealous, stayed silent. jungkook was wrapped in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck. you looked at taehyung, nodding to him, saying he should go to his class now before he misses it. he hesitantly leaves, waving bye to you as you try to comfort jungkook more.

from your experience with past patients and by what recently happened, you could assume jungkook had a panic attack. you shuffled both of you over to sit on the couch which was in the corner of the room. students had poured into the building, following their schedule. some paid no mind as others didn't bother hiding their stare. even when his sniffles were gone and the tears were long gone, he was still holding tightly onto you. his arm wrapped around your own, making him look like a lost child.

suddenly, there was a man that walked up to you two. "hey, is mr. jeon doing alright?"

with the way he held himself, his speech, and his clothing, you could only think that he was the dean of their school. "yes, he should be alright, now." he nodded and looked at the cowering jungkook.

"jungkook, you can take the day off if you would like. some students were telling me this episode was worse than the ones before." you turned to jungkook, asking if he would like going home. he nods, pushing himself closer to you.

"if it's alright, jungkookie would like to leave with noona," he says in a quiet voice. the dean nods, holding his hand for you to shake which you do briefly. he leaves the building and you turn to jungkook with a soft smile.

"if you have everything on you now, we can go home." speaking softly, you gently squeeze his hand. ever since he had calmed down, he seemed to be a bit aloof. you weren't going to question it, assuming he was just really coming back and calming down.

so you picked the backpack up for him, guiding the straps to his shoulders and walked hand-in-hand with him to the car. you opened his door for him, reminding him to put his seat belt on before you entered through your side of the car.

"noona," his quiet voice started, "jungkookie is sorry for causing trouble. i-i was just really anxious and ever-rything felt too close." there was a tremble in his tone and you shook your head in objection to his apologies.

"hey, you don't need to apologise, there should be no need for you to apologize for something you couldn't control. and don't even call it trouble, you caused me no trouble," although your eyes were trained on the road, the smile on your lips was directed to him.

jungkook chewed on his lip, watching your soft expression. he felt like there were butterflies in his stomach from the sweet, kind smile on your face. he had only dreamt of seeing it up close and have it directed to him before.

"noona, jungkookie thinks you're sooo pretty! this pretty!" he blurted, stretching his arms wide open, almost hitting you with his palm.

you flinched slightly at the sudden outburst, stopping at the red light and taking your time to inspect him. "jungkook, you alright?"

"jungkookie is okay now! now that noona is here! and she's sharing all of her happiness and smiles, so of course jungkookie okay."

his tone, which was lighter and higher than usual, his words, speaking in third person, his sudden switch in action - he had changed to an alter of his. why had it taken you so long to figure that much out? it said on his file he had DID, why couldn't you piece two aand two together?

you also read that same night when you were researching their own disorders, people switch alters or heads when they might be feeling temendously anxious or they were triggered to. some people with DID find it to be a protecting or shielding mechanism. what exactly happened at school with jungkook today?

"well, jungkookie," you started slowly. he had nodded eagerly, loving the sound of his name falling off of your lips.

"yes noona?" you swear, there were hearts twirling around his head as stars filled his eyes.

"how about i drop you off at home, we can watch some shows, and then we can go pick up the two others together?"

"hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, lower lip jutted out, "jungkookie is a little tired. but maybe if i take a nappy, i can be okay!"

the cheerful and childish response made you smile in relief. who knows maybe it would be better if jungkook stayed home when you went to pick up the boys. so you parked the car in their driveway, bouncing over to open jungkook's door for him.

you unlocked the house door with your own key and the ones inside the house immediately padded over.

"the dean called. said jungkookie had a panic attack and was excused from class. he isn't hurt is he?" you shook your head silently, watching the 3 boys, minus yoongi (he was watching carefully from the sidelines though), was inspecting jungkook, asking him all kinds of questions.

"he isn't hurt," you answered for them, "but he changed alters."

there was a silent pause between everyone, except jungkook who was thumping his foot against the floor. "hyungs! can i take y/n upstairs so we can play with my games?" he had bounced around jin's wheel chair, an excited smile on his face.

"hold on a second bunny, why don't you set up while we talk to y/n here?" the youngest settled for that idea, running up the stairs. when all of them made sure it was clear, they heaved a sigh of relief.

"jungkook in his headspace is usually really in control, so i hope he didn't cause too much trouble for you," jin said with an apologetic smile.

"no he was perfectly fine. it just shocked me a bit, i didn't expect to see jungkook in his little mind space for a while." namjoon leaned over, lowering his voice in safety so jungkook could hear, "it means he trusts you enough to become a little."

the rest of them nodded, agreeing with namjoon. they were about to say something when your phone started vibrating. jimin was calling.

"hello-"

"5th avenue, the corner of that street, right in front of the McDonald's! come quick!!"

it became obvious they needed a ride so you hung up, turning back to the boys.

"he'll be okay with me gone, right?"

they shared a glance before nodding, urging you to get the rest of the boys. so you left, going to the address jimin said in his quick message.

little did you know that while you were gone, jungkook would only get more stubborn and whiney, as the eldest hyungs had to deal with their giant man-baby who had been repeatedly yelling your name after finding out you had left. surprisingly he wasn't crying, just stomping his feet out of frustration.

it didn't matter to jin, the headache he felt was the same from the continuous cry of your name. let's just hope you don't come back home to see how terrible they were at controlling a little jungkook.

YO this chapter literally has double the words than it does with hyung line....I feel bad but i swear i dont have a preference for either line!!

anyway, I apologize for any mistakes and just a side note - its undecided what Jungkook's little age is but I'm gonna range it from 3-5 or smth like that.........(he does have other personalities/ alters - they just haven't been triggered yet 👀)

[stressedlady]

2,5k of god knows how to call this Enjoltaire fic...

The Portrait

He didn't want to be there. The light, the colorful dresses the ladies around him wore, the alcohol he had been practically forced to drink...he felt dizzy and slightly confused.

However, the blond wasn't going back home by any means. He had had a fight with his father and was not willing to give that bastard the satisfaction of thinking that he was dependent of him in any way.

How had Enjolras ended in that famous brothel? Well, in the second he told Courfeyrac that he couldnt return home for the night his friend dragged him and  Combeferre to the Moulin Rouge. They stared  for a while at the beautiful ladies dancing for a while, both of his friends were quite interested but Enjolras face expressed nothing more than indifference, deep resignation and anger.

"This is inmoral." declared the blond.

"That's what a priest would say, and you hate the clergy..."  replied Courfeyrac with a wide smile.

"Well, my arguments are quite different, this poor girls are treated like objects to play with by those rich men because they need their dirty money to survive in this society who shames them as if they criminals. Some of them are probably being forced to work here and have to give the most of their earnings to someone else"  He sighed. "And we are just contributing this injustice by coming to this place."

"Hell, now I feel guilty" snorted Courfeyrac, considering his friend’s words. But seconds later a man who was about their age approached them.  

"Goodnight, Monsieur Courfeyrac" said the man with bright blue eyes and curly black hair. "I just came to say hello before leaving, I see you are in company, I don't want to bother you."

Saying this, his eyes went in a fast gaze from the lad he already knew to the one wearing glasses and to the blond. He smirked at Enjolras' serius face before turning his eyes back to Courfeyrac.

"Grantaire! Goodnight my friend. Don't leave yet, it's uncommon to see you out of your study, and sober..."

"Well, I wanted to take a break from all the comissions and projects, leave the oil paints aside for a couple of hours." He sighed. "But it seems that I've grown used to be alone or with very little company and now this much people and noise is overwhelming."

"Do not lie, you've never been a friend of crowds." He said with a grin. "Let me introduce you to my friends: Monsieur Combeferre, Monsieur Enjolras, this is Grantaire, one of the most brilliant artists of Paris."

Grantaire laughed "Oh, you are the one who lies to them. I don't even reach the rating of artist. Now I should leave to home and get drunk, nice to meet you..."

"Wait!" exclaimed Courfeyrac. "Would you mind to take my friend, Enjolras, with you?" The artist raised his eyebrows, and the blond one frowned. "He wants to do the morally right thing and leave this place but of he is left alone in the streets he will probably get killed by some robber, you are leaving and if you are not in company, you'll probably drink youself to death. Am I wrong?"

Grantaire looked at Enjolras again, trying to scrutinise his beautiful features with the dim light of the place. Then answered smiling "Not at all."

"Then it's done, Enjolras, you may go with Monsieur Grantaire." he said, practically pushing Enjolras off of his chair. "Wait, what?" sputtered Enjolras out of confusion.

"Just follow me, unless you want to stay here." Indicated the artist, with a smirk.

The atmosphere into the Moulin Rouge was really heavy, people flooded every single room and it was so warm that it was hard not to feel dizy. But the two young men went through and, when they crossed the main entrance and stepped into the cold empty streets, they sighed of relief.

  "Would you want me to scort you home? This streets are dangerous at night and, without any intention of offending you, sir, you don't seem very able to defending yourself..."

"Being true, going home is the last thing I'd like to do tonight and, trust me" the blond boy raised slightly the lap of his jacket, showing the artist a small revolver he had in a inside pocket, his face turning serious "I'm not as naïve and helpless as I may seem."

"Good" replied Grantaire quite surpraised "Then, may I invite you to spend the night at my apartment? I mean, chatting and that stuff..."

"Won't I bother you?" Asked Enjolras a bit concerned. "You said you had work to do and, well, you look pretty tired."

"If I go back home alone I'll probably get drunk and stay awake until the alcohol beats me down which may happen around four in the morning...so I would be rather pleased to have company.” he smirked. “And more if it's company of a man who wanted to get out of a brothel because he thought it was inmoral." They had already headed to the artist's flat. "And, don't take me wrong but I'm dying in desires to paint you a portrait, you are really beautiful."  

Enjolras blushed slightly but remained composed. “It’s okay for me...”

Grantaire’s flat wasn't the most luxurious or tidy place he had ever been into but, Enjolras thought, was much better than to stay at the Moulin Rouge. The flat was composed by two big rooms. The first one, in which you entered from the front door, was a kind of small and pretty precarious kitchen. There were a small table with two chairs, a wooden old cupboard in a corner and a firewood kitchen, everything surprisingly clean if you let the five empty wine bottles on the table go unnoticed. Grantaire guided Enjolras to the next chamber and inmediately mumbled something like "Sorry for the mess, I wasn't specting any visit tonight..."

That room was a bedroom, livingroom and studio all together. The funiture was composed by a single person bed in a corner in front of one of the big windows which pierced two of the walls, a desk which filled the space next to the bed and in another corner there was a old wardrobe.  The rest of the stuff were basicaly art supplies. Big white canvases and stands were splayed across the place, paintbrushes of every sizes and textures and a lot paint could be found everywhere in that chamber. Some finished portraits and paintings rested in a corner against the wall and some others, unfinished, filled the stands.

Enjolras entered in the room, followed by his host, and after looking at the composition the previous elements formed, he drived his attention to the finished and ongoing paintings. Portraits of some men who, by the way they looked, would pass as what his father would call a 'respetable gentleman' and he would define as an 'elitist bastard', some still alives and one or two religion themed paintings.

"These are really good." said the guest as Grantaire setled the necesary material to paint the blond boy.

"Thank you, but those are mostly commisions, I actuallyi hate them. They are unoriginal, and ordinary, but is what rich people like to put in their walls covered with silk... and a man needs to eat."  he sighed with a resignated smile, staring at Enjolras who had turned to him. He set a wooden stool which Enjolras had not even seen and approached the blond to take his jacket and hat and put them aside. But first he pointed at the jacket, smirking.

"Your weapon is still here, are you sure you trust me enough to stay unarmed?" Enjolras giggled in a way that made the other man grin sweetly.

"Keep that thing away from me, please. I would hate to fire that crap if is not for a really good reason."

"Okay, then I won’t give you any good reasons." said the artist with a smirk and pointed the stool. “Could you, please, sit here however you like and talk as much as you want?”

“Of course.” Enjolras hummed, doing as he was told, a bit confused but smiling pleasantly and watching the artist disappear behind a canvas of 1m x  50 cm "And what would you like to paint then?" The answer was simple, "Whatever the hell I want and however the hell I want. For example, now I want to paint you like the fine marble you seem to be combined with the impression I get of you as you talk."

" ...great" said Enjolras. The man of dark curls had awaken his curiosity.

"So, l'm curious, why would you think going to the Moulin Rouge is immoral, if I may ask?"

"Well, first of all..." he described a long list of reasons which could perfectly answered Grantaire's question: the public shaming and the terrible treatment fo the costumers to the women who worked there, the miserable pay they had, how ephemeral was their work and so on. He went on his ranting for a half an hour or so, the artist painting his features serious and quite focused. Was surprised that the boy was aware of the injustices of the world surrounding him and was not afraid to put them down in words. However, a sudden doubt crossed his mind.

"Okay, I understand, our society is hypocritical and unfair but..." he lifted his eyes from the canvas and set them on the boy's bright blue eyes. "why the hell should you care at all? "

Enjolras' expression turned serious, but not of anger or anoyance, but with the severity of a man who speaks of his beliefs. His blue eyes seemed to be filled with passion, and so did his voice. "Because I am unable to turn my back to the misery in which a big part of the french citizens is living,  I can't spend a hundred francs in a coat while there are families starving in the streets of Paris, and will never think myself or anyone better or supperior because of how rich or powerful they are."  His words were frivolous and he knew it, but were as honest as a drunk man's. Later he smiled, looking into the artist's eyes. "I believe that all men and women on earth are created equal and shall live in freedom, and I will fight for it."

Grantaires eyes were wide open, staring at the man in front of him. Enjolras wasn't a god or an angel like he had thought at first, he was something he felt more distant and foreign, an idealist with the will to change the world, to make it better.

"Yours is a lost cause, my friend." The artist finally said, hiding himself back again behind the canvas, sighing. "You know it, don't you?"

"Probably, but I don't care, I will defend it with my life." he replied. 'You'll die young, then.' Grantaire thought to himself, feeling a sharp sting in his heart.

The conversation went on quite normal, Enjolras told Grantaire why he didn't want to go home and why he had argued with his dad. The artist told him about the pedant rich old men, their arrogant wives and even more arrogant descendency who commisioned him and how much he hated them. He also talked about his younger sister and how smart she was. They enjoyed their time together and around six in the morning, when the sun had just started rising, painting the sky of beautiful yellow, orange and pink-ish colours and filling the room in which both young men were with a warm light, the portrait was finished.

"Done, come and see."

Enjolras stood up and walked next to the artist.

He looked at the painting and his eyes sparkled like stars, but remained silent.  "Well, do you like it?"

In the painting, his clothes were quite different. He wasn't wearing a white shirt and an expensive vest, made with the finest fabrics, but some more modest, a plane white shirt with puffed sleeves and a red vest. There was a detail Enjolras loved and which made him smile warmly: in his chest there was pinned a cockade with the colours of the French flag.  This was a common accessory for French revolutionaries and rebels, who Enjolras admired and respected. In the portrait he looked quite calm, with a smile, but his eyes sparkled with passion and decission. His blond curls and pale skin seemed to have their own light because around him, over the dark background, a light like the ones around gods and angels had in classicist paintings surrounded him.

"I love it, it's...perfect." Enjolras said out of pure joy. Grantaire observed him tenderly and  felt his heart pounding in his chest when Enjolras set a hand on his shoulder  "You are a really good artist, Grantaire." 

"Thanks, and you a really good model." Answered his compliment. Both of them were slightly blushing, staring at each other. When he noticed this,  Enjolras' cheeks turned completely pink and turned his sight to the canvas again.

 "And how much will it be?" asked suddenly the blond.

"How much will it be, what?" Grantaire looked confused.

"The portrait..."

"Oh, you don't have to pay me."

Enjolras jumped in the place "No way, I can't have you up this late, painting me  and later giving you nothing in return!"

"Of course you can, I'm doing this mostly for fun, and you have stayed there, awake, as I painted. I am not rich but I can afford to paint with no ecconomical profit in return."

"I don't care, I want to pay you." answered Enjolras stubbonrly.

"I won't take any money or anything material." said the artist with a smirk . "I swear the is no need to pay me, Enjolras."

"But-"

"Look, just come back, that will be enough. Come back, pose for me again... I don't know if you can tell but I'm a pretty lonely man and some company won't make me any bad. Only if you want, I mean." he looked quite nervous and embarassed by his own request. "You can't take your portrait with you yet, the oil paint takes a week or so to get dry, you should come to pick it next Sunday."

"I can come earlier if you'd like..." said Enjolras tentatively as he took his jacket and was scolted by Grantaire to the front door.

"Whenever you want, I'm always here."

"Is tomorrow okay? I have some work to do today but I'll be free tomorrow."

Grantaire smiled widely, noticing that the boy had liked him a bit.

"Yes, tomorrow will do."

Enjolras reached out to give the artist the traditional French kiss-on-each-cheek, which took Grantaire quite out of guard. "See you tomorrow, then." and he left. 

Grantaire sighed, walked back to his bedroom and turned stood in front of the finished portrait, wondering if such a beautiful creature was real or that boy was just fruit of his imagination and the last hours had been a dream or a illusion. Maybe he had met an angel or a god, a son of Apollo, or Apollo himself, perhaps.

He put his hands into his pockets, before empty, and hummed when he felt four small heavy objects inside his left pocket. Grantaire took them and couldn't help feeling surprised as he looked at the four 20 franc gold coins on his hand. He rapidly deduced that Enjolras had put them there while giving him the two kisses. He smirked.

"That little motherf-"

[heungtanbts]

Claim Your Throne

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre/warnings: hades!au; implications of smut and a lot of sexual tension but das about it.

word count: 2k

“You were jealous when Lady Anthara was up there with me.”

From where you’re sitting on your bed, you shoot him a disgruntled look. “And how exactly are you so sure of that? You were all the way up there on your throne, and I was much too far and deep within the crowds for you to even see me.”

Hoseok stands from the purple velvet arm chair and begins to leisurely pace around your chambers, a long cloak of onyx smoke trailing behind him.

“When I first became ruler of the Underworld, I had a hard time sleeping.” Hoseok reminisces, clasping his hands behind his back as he paces. “A hard time functioning in general, actually. Why? Because it was too noisy for me.”

You can’t stop yourself from snorting. “What, the walls aren’t sound proof enough for Your Highness?”

He just smiles, ignoring your comment. ”As soon as I rose to the throne, I began to hear countless voices in my head. Agonized moaning and groaning, desperate pleas, pain-ridden wailing, a harrowing symphony of voices of the wretched. I came to realize they were coming from all the souls of the Underworld. And I could hear every one of their thoughts.”

Hoseok slows his pacing to a halt, shaking his head with a sad smile. “I figured it must be a curse that I am forced to live with, a small price to pay for full dominion over the Dark Realm.”

All the sass and rebellion inside of you dies in that moment, your heart genuinely feeling for him. “That sounds... awful.” 

Everyone knows the king of the Underworld is a powerful being that controls the army of the dead, but you’re pretty sure no one knows of this fact, one of the many secrets and hidden pains that lie behind the power. Though it doesn’t seem to bother Hoseok, at least visibly, as he shrugs it off immediately. “I quickly learned how to tune all the voices out. I had to, if I didn’t want to drive myself insane and wallow in eternal sorrow with them. Now I am very good at it and only hear what i want to hear.” From where he stands, his dark eyes find yours, and as if to further prove his point, he follows up with “So you think Lady Anthara is too weak and spineless to be my queen, huh?”

You freeze, the realization daunting. He can hear your thoughts as well. All of them.

“Its funny,” He makes his way over to the vanity, his movements painfully unhurried and relaxed as he unbuttons the cloak from around his neck, “I’ve mastered the art of tuning out the voices and multitude of thoughts, and yet,” he hangs the pile of billowing obsidian on the back of the chair, his gaze finding yours, “I can’t help but hear yours.”

The way your heart jumps in your chest nearly startles you, but you refuse to let that show. Instead you frown disapprovingly to cover it up. “Well I’d appreciate it if you could stop listening in and ignore mine too, please and thank you. It’s quite the invasion of privacy.”

You watch as Hoseok takes a seat at the edge of the bed where you are stationed, leaning on a hand on the soft mattress and looking like the origin of sin while doing so, strands of raven hair falling into his even darker eyes. He’s not even doing anything, not even touching you - he’s just sitting, all the while looking like the true king of the Underworld - powerful, majestic, incredibly sexy. In contrast, he tilts his head to the side, looking almost adorable and playful, well, as adorably playful as the overlord of the dead could be.

“I would stop if I could, love, but one - I can’t for some reason, and two - frankly,” his eyes twinkle darkly, “I don’t really want to.”

A surge of enraged heat rises inside of you. “Why you-“

Hoseok sighs nonchalantly, tracing his long index finger in the black silk, “You know, normally if anyone were to try to command me, let alone raise their voice at me like that, they’d find themselves taking a nice long swim with all the other souls in the River of Eternity.”

“Are you threatening me?” You retaliate, not feeling intimidated in the slightest. It’s obvious Hoseok, the conniving Dark Majesty Hades, is trying to mess with you, to get you to give in, but to what?

“No, I’m merely stating what normally happens in those cases. This is obviously not normal. Just so happens that you, my dear, defy all the odds.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

“You crave power, glory. The right to rule and have subjects bow at your feet. You crave me.”

His forwardness catches you off guard, a pit forming in your stomach. It’s true, deep down inside you long with all of your soul for those things. While most maidens of the Dark Realm want nothing more than a lover, the finest of wines and hot, passionate sexual escapades, you want those things and more. So much more. It annoys you to no end that he has guessed correctly about you. But that is all that it is - just a mere guess that happened to be correct. “What being doesn’t crave power and glory to some extent? And although you are objectively adequate in your looks and physique, you have no proof that I have ever thought such things.”

Hoseok clears his throat, “And i quote, ‘He’s so hot, I just want him to rip off his robes, come lay with me in my chambers, and grind up on me with his c-“

“That’s enough!” You rapidly cover his mouth with your hand, feeling crimson heat flood your cheeks. “At least you could have the decency to not say all of that out loud!” You’re absolutely mortified that he heard all of that. That means he knows just how long you’ve been pining after him, drooling over his power, daydreaming of his beautiful body all over yours, imagining holding his hand as you sit side by side on the throne. He knows everything.

“Unfortunately, I quite like my cloak so I opted to gently disrobe instead, against your wishes.” He smirks knowingly. “However, the rest of your sinful thoughts and fantasies I can most definitely make a reality.”

“Not unless I die from embarrassment first” You groan, head falling into your palms, ashamed.

Suddenly you feel Hoseok lean forward, so much that when you uncover your face, you find being cornered to lay back on the massive bed, head cushioned by ripples of black silk as he cages you in with his hands. He towers over you, his knees straddling one of your legs as you sink deeper into the mattress. The mouth-watering lines of his lean, carved body are visible even through the dark fabric of his robes as he hovers over you so closely, you can feel the heat, the raw power, radiating off of him. His eyes have somehow grown even darker, pupils blown out and brimming with lust, and that sight alone triggers another cascade of heat within you, this time not to your cheeks from embarrassment, but somewhere lower, a region where embarrassment no longer exists.

He takes his time trailing the back of his fingers down your cheek, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his surprisingly cool skin, his touch leaving shivers in his wake. Hoseok makes his way down the column of your throat, moving up and down the sensitive area in a light feathery motion that drives you mad.

“I must say,” your eyes open at the sound of Hoseok’s sultry voice as he continues explore the map of your body, grazing his fingers down your arm to draw light circles in the palm of your hand, “I do agree with you.”

“Agree with what?” you choke out, much too caught up in the way his fingers now dance across your collar bones and at the neckline of your bust. Your breathing is becoming more embarrassingly rapid and haggard by the minute, and it seems no matter how much air you take in, you’re still drunkenly dizzy from Hoseok’s scent and mere presence. He lowers himself down to an elbow so that now his body is laying on top of yours, melding into your shape and warmth, and you almost jump into the River of Eternity right then and there.

“Your thought that you’d serve to be a much greater queen than any other maiden out there.”

Your eyes widen, his tantalizing game momentarily forgotten. “God dammit, Hoseok, you just had to hear every single thought that crossed my mind, didn’t you?”

“I couldnt resist.” He leans in dangerously close, leaving barely any space between his lips and yours, “I can’t resist you.” His hot breath puffs against your lips temptingly, your heart rate sky rocketing at the feeling of his free hand now traveling further south to play with the hem of your shirt, Hoseok, Hades, is the omnipotent ruler of the Underworld, the most authoritative being in the Dark Realm, so why is he giving the Demon of Lust a run for his money with all his unbearable sexiness and god-forbidden ability to tease you to near death?

Hoseok suddenly laughs, the moment of thick tension broken, moving his head to the side to chuckle heartily into the crook of your neck. At first his reaction baffles you, but then in dawning realization, you immediately scowl. Seriously, damn him and his ability to hear your thoughts.

When his laughter finally dies down, his expression becomes serious, no signs of jest anywhere to be found. “Be my queen. Come, share in this great power of mine. Rule the Underworld by my side, as one of- no, as the most feared ruler in the universe. The Queen of Death, the Empress of the Dark Realm. Come, my love, come claim your throne.” Hoseok’s proposition is sinfully inviting, and to make matters worse he brushes his hips against your leg seductively as he says this, and you’re not sure exactly which “throne” he’s implying you should claim.

You find that you have a very difficult time ignoring the way your heart rams against your chest at the thought of spending the rest of eternity by his side, overseeing the Underworld together, indulging in the power and glory as one body, one unit. Having all of the Dark Realm at your feet, bowing in reverence and fear because of you, their feared Queen. You squirm slightly under Hoseok’s carnal gaze. Now you really don’t know which throne seems more tempting.

At your reaction, Hoseok’s lips curl up into a grin, “ I take that as a yes then?”

“I beg to differ, I haven’t said anything yet.” You quip defensively. It’s no lie that you crave power just as much as Hoseok does, that fact is just as obvious as the suffocating tension that lies between the two of you. This here is a power play you don’t want to give into so easily, all for the sake of your greed and pride. Your sanity is slipping between your fingers as the seconds pass, and you hate to admit that at this point, you’re barely hanging by a thread. Ideally, you not only desire complete domination over this world that he has claimed - you want complete and utter power over Hoseok himself. 

But completely opposite to how a ruthless, all-mighty ruler would act, Hoseok begins to scatter soft kisses all over your face. Rather than bring out the overwhelming authority you know he possesses and is just teeming with, instead he forces you to bow at your knees with his sensual touches, his lips lingering for a moment too long at the corner of your lips, knowing you want more than that, need more than that.

“On the contrary, you’ve already said quite a bit, my love.” Hoseok murmurs in between kisses, pausing every now and then to admire your flushed cheeks and lustful gaze.

You huff in a weak attempt to hide just how affected you are. “Will this ‘thought reading’ thing ever stop being so annoying?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “You may have said a lot with your thoughts, but actually you’ve said much more with your body, with your eyes. So much so that I didn’t even need to hear your thoughts to know.” He presses himself against you, eliciting an involuntary moan from your lips. “Come claim your throne, my queen - please.”

And that’s all it takes for you to give in, wrap your arms around his neck and urgently pull him towards to you, your lips finally finding where they belong - molded to his, whispering sweet nothings and eternal promises of pure pleasure against them. In the moment, you may have won by holding out until he gave in, but you both knew you were already done for the moment he stepped foot into your chambers. It was a losing battle from the very beginning, starting from the day his power and might claimed your heart many, many years ago. It’s been far too long since then, and finally, finally it is time to rightfully claim what is yours - tonight, you will claim your throne.  

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A/N: i had a dream about hoseok as hades. i know little to nothing about greek mythology and the actual story of hades. i also did not intend for this to end up being about hoseok as super sexy, mind-reading, sultry king of the Underworld but that’s how it turned out sooo YEAH. also i guess i’m counting this as just a regular one shot. i hope you all can share in my pain with me thanks kbye.