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foreverdolly · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑(𝐩𝐭 𝟏)| 𝟗𝟎𝐬!𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: your love life has been tragic to say the least, so after a rather public breakup you decide that you're done with bad boys. elvis is the lead singer of a well known and well loved metal band. he lives a hard and fast lifestyle and wouldn't dream of ever apologizing for it. the one thing that nobody would ever expect from a rough-around-the-edges kinda guy like elvis is the fact that the man is a hopeless romantic. and he's got his sights set on you. elvis presley was precisely the kind of person you were trying to avoid. you couldn't let him weasel his way into your life. . . . right?

warning/notes: SMUT! ahead, this thing is going to be dirty dirty so prepare yourselves, drug and alcohol use. you're seriously a sex symbol and everyone is obsessed with you. . . including me. elvis is an actual simp in this fic, but what's new with my writing? this fic does take place in the 90's. . . so just imagine 60's elvis throughout this fic, because that's exactly what i was doing. | this is part one of a three part mini series. i will be posting all three parts this week, so you will not have to wait a million years to be able to finish it. please please please heart this post, repost it and tell me what you think about it. i love interaction, and this is my first time posting in ages. i'm a little nervous about it.

word count: 5.3k

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The bar was hazy with thick cigarette smoke, but there was something special about the way that the neon lights shone through the fog that hung above the mass of grinding bodies. The music pounded away in your ears, and after the round of mixed drinks that you had downed with your group of friends, you couldn’t help but sway your body along with the beat. In a packed bar like this, where everybody was too drunk to notice or too high to care, you were just another somebody.

That was the draw to nightlife for you. It was a small reprieve, and maybe it made you a bit sick in the head, but you cherished it. No matter how self absorbed and ungrateful it sounded, you missed the days of feeling like a normal person. You missed being able to leave your house in a ratty old t-shirt and shorts without the fear of being plastered all over the front of a gossip magazine looming above your head. You missed going to the grocery store and taking your sweet time perusing the aisles. You missed the way your life had been before the organized chaos.

People have always paid extra attention to you. You had been the butt of many jokes during your early days in middle school. You were the ugly duckling- nothing but a scrawny little girl that came from an impoverished family. The year you turned thirteen everything changed though. Puberty had hit you like a freight train. Your curves had filled out and your face had lost all of its baby fat. In the blink of an eye all of the girls wanted to be your friends, and the boys that used to tease you were now trying their hardest to get your attention.

You only got prettier as time went on it would seem. People stopped caring about the unfortunate state of your home life all together, instead focusing on your looks and likeability. School was no longer hell from you, and you entirely had your appearance to thank for it. Becoming a model had happened just as quickly.

You had been on a date with an ex when you had first been discovered. You remembered that day vividly: the nasty fight during the car ride to the stadium, the overpriced beers as well as the crippling fear that you were allowing a man to emotionally beat you down. You had somehow ended up on the jumbotron, and all you could do was awkwardly smile and wave- blow a few kisses at the camera when it lingered on your face for a little too long. You had laughed it off, assuring your at-the-time boyfriend that it had been some sort of a coincidence. He had been the jealous and possessive sort. A man that worked in the marketing department of one of your state’s favorite beer companies saw you holding the bottle in your hand on the big screen, and the rest was history.

You felt blessed for your booming career and all of the attention that you had garnered over the last few years, but a part of you missed the days where you could go outside without cameras flashing or people asking something of you. Everybody always wanted something from you. Be it a simple picture, a signature or even a smile- at this point there wasn’t a part of you not owned or wanted by the public. Even other celebrities had an ulterior motive for trying to connect with you. You’d learned your lesson though. Dating was officially off the table. Well. . . dating celebrities, at least.

“I’m being serious this time, guys.” You tried to reason with your friends, reaching up to tangle your long manicured fingers into your messy updo. “Bad boys are out.” You seriously believed it this time too. No matter how hot, famous or rich you were, men were always going to be trash.

You had always been the type of girlfriend that went out of her way to take care of their partner. You hated drama, so starting unnecessary fights was beneath you. You were trusting to a fault, which had gotten you into trouble more than a handful of times. You had a big heart, and despite the constant disappointments you still believed in true love. You had finally come to the conclusion that the problem was never you. It had always been them. You were self aware enough to know that you had a bit of a. . .type.

“Bad boys” only wanted one thing from you though.

They just wanted sex. It had always been that way, even since high school. As much as you hated to admit it, you had never been in a stable relationship, even in the early years of your life before the tabloids kept tabs on your every move.

You loved sex, but it never led to anything good. The most you got out of it in most cases was nothing but momentary, fleeting satisfaction that only left you feeling more empty than you had been before. You were done with being used to beef up somebody's ego only to be discarded like garbage soon after.

Your close friend, Veronica, was quick to throw her arm around you, pressing your frame tightly into her side. “We need to find you someone nerdy. Like. . . like an accountant or something.” She snapped her fingers excitedly as though she had just solved world hunger.

You let out a small squeal, leaning your head back to laugh without restraint. In your inner circle on a night like this? Things seemed to just. . . fall into place. You were happy- obnoxiously so- and you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else. You were sick and tired of crying over men that didn’t care about you. Especially ones that didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt for them. All that mattered now was the fact that they were playing remixes of all your favorite songs at this particular club and that you had just gotten your nails freshly painted earlier in the day. Your dress fit you like a glove, you were actually having a good hair day without the help of a stylist and the people that you had surrounded yourself with loved you like family. This was your element.

The drinks were flowing, your heart was happy, and you were tired of moping around and feeling bad for yourself.

An accountant was exactly what you needed.

“You’re so right! I need a sweet little accountant that I can come home to at the end of a long day. That sounds perfect to me. I need a man that lives a boring life and is more than willing to take time out of his not-so hectic life for me.” You agreed, pressing your cheek against your friend’s in a display of affection before grabbing your drink off of the table. “A toast! To. . .,” You bit your plush bottom lip as you tried to think of the best way to word what it was that you were looking for in a man. “To good guys.”

“To good guys!” They all chimed after you.

Your friends were all quick to clink their glasses against yours, happily joining you in downing the rest of their brightly colored glasses of alcohol.

“Excuse me!” You called out to one of the waitstaff, flagging her down with a wide dazzling smile.

The scantily dressed woman was quick to make her way over to your marked off section. The owner of the club insisted on putting you and your friends in VIP for ‘your safety’, though you were starting to think that all it was doing was drawing more attention towards your area. The younger woman smiled sweetly back at you, though you weren’t blind enough to not see the way that her fingers were anxiously twitching at her sides. A-list celebrities didn’t frequent clubs like this, so you were sure that she was probably scared out of her mind to do something wrong and incur your (nonexistent) wrath.

“W-What can I help you with?” What little confidence she had earlier was faltering now as she got closer and closer to you.

“I want to buy every person in this club a shot of tequila! Top shelf, please. We’re celebrating!” Tonight you were in an especially good mood considering your recent split with your heartthrob co-star. You were finally starting to feel better about it, which was a good sign that you were moving on.

You and your group’s shots arrived first, but within seconds tray after tray of plastic cups began circulating the bar. You were quick to cheers your friends once again, swallowing back the clear liquor. You had imbibed in a fair bit of alcohol already, so the burning sensation wasn’t as bad as it had been towards the beginning of your girls night out. Despite the slightly numb lips and hazy expression, you didn’t sway once in your heels as you continued to sway along to the beat of the music. You danced like nobody was watching, but little did you know that a certain blue eyed musician had his eye on you from across the club.

“Compliments of (F/N) (L/N).” The waitress motioned to the tray that she was holding up in front of the brunette’s face.

For a second all he could do was stare at the drinks, drunkenly trying to remember whether or not he ordered anything. His eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise as the woman’s words finally began to register. Wait a minute. . . who bought him a shot? The name sounded awfully familiar, so he must know the woman somehow. His rings glinted under the colored lights as he reached for the cup, the leggy blonde that had been keeping him company that night following suit.

“Who?” He asked dumbly, squinting his eyes to follow the direction that the waitress had pointed in.

“(F/N) (L/N). She’s an actress and model? She bought every-” And before the woman could let Elvis know that you had bought everyone in the entire club a shot he was already throwing the tequila back, tossing the plastic drunkenly back onto the table before pushing the blonde woman’s arm off from around him as though her touch burned him.

Because he had recognized you the second that he saw you, even from across the bar. You were prettier in person than you were on camera, which was rare in Los Angeles.

The woman that had once been keeping him company gaped up at the musician, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment as she realized that she was actively being ditched for another woman. In front of everybody that she had come to the club with.

“Fuck you, Presley!” She screamed after him, but the curse fell on deaf ears as he wove his way in between the writhing, sweaty bodies of dancing patrons.

He had his eyes glued on one person and one person only. Never in his life had he seen a woman that beautiful before- and Elvis had seen, kissed and fucked his fair share of hot women. He remembered exactly why your name sounded so familiar to him. You weren’t some chick whose feelings he had hurt or someone that his music label had asked him to play nice with.

You were a fuckin’ Playboy Bunny.

Your group of friends had stopped talking and had all turned to face him as he approached, their eyebrows knitted together as they tried to figure out exactly who he was and why he was there. Tall and lean, heavily tattooed with dark hair and blue eyes as bright as the morning sky. One by one he watched their expressions shift into recognition. Elvis lifted up a long leg, easily stepping over the velvet rope that had been put up around your section.

All you could do was watch, wondering exactly why Elvis Presley was approaching you with a smirk on his face. Was there something that you might have missed? You’d never met the man before in your life. You would have definitely remembered if you had.

He was clad in a black pair of jeans and a white tank top that fit snug enough to show off his nipple piercings. His thick gold necklaces caught the light as he bent down to shorten his frame, smiling directly at you. It was like the two of you were the only ones in the bar. His attention was perfectly undivided. His black hair hung loose in his eyes, undone from its usual updo that he had sported in all of the pictures you’d seen of him in the past. You had to admit though. . . there was something more dangerous about this version of Elvis. He seemed more wild and relaxed. More himself and less of the showman. It made your heart race, and admittedly kept you from shooing him off in the opposite direction.

Not even ten minutes ago you had sworn off bad boys, and yet here you were, watching with wide eyes as one sauntered right up to you.

His black boots stopped to rest right in front of your heeled feet, and he took his time looking you up and down, wanting you to see his approval. He wanted you to know just how irresistible he found you. In a club as loud as this one was, you had to learn how to communicate with your body.

Elvis had been raised in the south by a Christian family, but that didn’t mean that he was always a gentleman. He was far too drunk for that. So instead of thanking you for the shot or trying his hand at flirting with you, he plopped down in the spot beside you and leaned over.

Your jaw went slack as you felt his warm tongue trail all the way up from the sensitive pulsepoint at your neck to your temple. His nose brushed against your hair as his warm breath fanned over your ear. You could hear his heady breath, and it lit a fire inside of you. Rather than being outraged you found yourself clamping your thighs together in the hopes of creating some sort of friction. He pulled back only to smile drunkenly at you, drumming his tattooed hands against his seat as he waited for your reaction.

He watched you all while knowing that you had to have felt something. Your breath had caught at the sudden action, and he knew it. He saw the adorable flush to your cheeks and the glint in your glassy eyes. A cocky, satisfied huff left him as he leaned back against the leather booth. You, of course, exceeded his expectations when you turned towards your friend and repeated the action. Your group, no matter how prissy they all looked, were all good sports. They howled and cackled as one by one they licked each other’s face, following your lead without question.

“I’m Elvis.” He called over the music, watching as you gave him a knowing nod.

You opened your mouth in order to introduce yourself only for him to hold his hand up, giving a dismissive flick of his wrist. “No need. I know who ya are.” He stated with an upturned lip.

His smile was nothing short of goofy, his blue eyes sweet as he looked over your face again and again, almost as though he was committing every detail to memory. There was something about him that just felt. . . different. It felt good.

“Do ya wanna dance?” He nodded towards the packed dance floor, raising an eyebrow at you.

Your best friend tensed behind you. “What happened to good boys being in?” She whispered in your ear, shooting you a pleading look.

You couldn’t help but giggle, waving her off like it was no big deal. “This is just for tonight. We’re only going to dance, alright? Promise.” And with that you stood up, letting him take your hand and pull you out onto the dance floor.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you danced, only that you could feel long strands of your wavy hair clinging to the back of your arms after falling out from its’s updo. You were a drunken, sweaty mess and didn’t care one bit. All that mattered was that Elvis was making you laugh harder than you ever had before. His large hands felt too good on your hips as he swayed you back and forth, pressing you against his thigh. All you would have to do is arch your back just a fraction, and it would be your cunt that he would be leading you to grind against his thigh, not your hips. You should have hated yourself for the thought, but you were too far gone. All you knew was that he was handsome and was looking down at you as though you hung the moon.

He was so big and warm. Domineering in a kind of way that let you know he would be able to take care of you in the exact way that you preferred.

Your fingers gently traced a few of the tattoos on his arms as you continued to sway back and forth, eying the colorful, sweaty skin as he continued to wrap himself around you. He smelled like expensive cologne and warm skin- and it took every last shred of self restraint that you had in your body not to bury your nose into his chest and inhale. Being around him was making you lose your mind.

The two of you only left the dance floor to down more drinks and get away from the loud speakers from time to time when you wanted to converse with each other. It was far too loud to have any sort of heart to hearts with him, but he went out of his way to show off his flashy personality to you.

“I really have to go, Elvis. I’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow afternoon, which means I have to wake up early to pack.” You explained, stumbling outside so that you could wait for the cab that the bar had called for you.

Elvis had been nice enough to offer to wait with you, not wanting any seedy characters to get any bad ideas. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning, and you didn’t even want to think about the kind of people that might be lurking in the darkness. L.A was a terrifying place to be left alone in. Especially at night.

“The clubs not even closin’ yet though. Why don’t you wait for just one more hour?” He begged, his gold bracelet sliding down to his forearm as he clasped his hands together over his chest.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the dyed brunette eyeing the adorable way your nose scrunched up as you did so. Yeah. . . he was completely smitten. It was official.

“I’m serious, Elvis. I have to get home.” You weren’t giving in, no matter how much you wanted to.

Your friend's words were finally pounding their way back into your head, reminding you that the man in front of you would only break your heart and leave you to pick up the pieces afterwards. Casual sex used to be fun for you, but you were bored with the notion. What you were looking for was someone to settle down with. Elvis Presley definitely didn’t seem like the type.

“Well where are you doin’ tomorrow? Maybe we can do somethin’ fun.” He needed to see you as soon as possible. He could tell that staying over at your place or vice versa was completely out of the question, so he didn’t even attempt to offer. You were worth the wait anyway, so he didn’t mind taking his time. He could tell that you were old school, and he respected it.

This way of thinking was completely out of character for Elvis though. The reason why he wasn’t afraid to sleep around and forget about the women that he spent time with was because the two of you were very similar. The musician was a hopeless romantic, and wanted to fall in love more than he cared to ever say.

If you weren’t in love then you weren’t alive. That was his way of thinking, at least.

He wanted somebody to share his life with, but he hadn’t met the right person. He had tried his hand at long term relationships a couple of times, but women had a track record of breaking his heart. So he had gotten into the habit of being the break-er and not the break-ee.

“I’m headed to Mexico for this business trip. If I show up with huge bags under my eyes my manager will not be happy.” You watched as he perked up, your eyebrows raising in confusion.

“I love Mexico! Where exactly are you stayin’?”

“Cacún. . .” You replied slowly, not exactly sure whether or not you wanted him to know. There was something about his reaction to the news that made you think that he might try and. . . - no. No way. No normal person- musician or not- would book a last minute flight just to spend more time with you. Stable people’s minds didn’t work like that.

“Oh, that’s perfect. We’re goin’ to Cancún then.” No hesitation.

You guffawed, blinking hard at him as you tried to figure out exactly how to handle this situation. You were used to men being forward with you, but this was on an entirely different level.

“You’re not following me to Mexico,” You told him, reaching out to give his arm a small shake when you noticed the devious smile pulling up at his lips. “Elvis, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I’m so comin’, no matter how much you beg.”

The taxi pulled up to the curb before you could say anything else. With a loud sigh you opened the door for yourself, blurting out “no you’re not” as you closed the door soundly behind you. Before you could even blink the man was wrenching the other backdoor open, sliding his way inside. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. He had to be playing with you, because there was no way he could be serious.

“Sir, please wait a minute. He’s not coming with me.” You told the taxi driver before turning to face the black haired man. “Elvis, you are not coming to Mexico. Okay? It’s something that I have to do for work. Now. . . can you please let me go home?” The alcohol was beginning to take its toll on you, and you felt exhausted. Your bed was practically calling out to you. So no matter how charismatic or handsome the singer was, you refused to let him come home with you.

“I’ll get out of the car if you do one thing for me.”

You weren’t surprised when he asked for your number, and like an idiot you complied, writing the words “don’t call” right above your digits.

It was only when he got out of the car with a wide smile on your face that you realized how torn you were. Part of you knew that he shouldn’t call, but a large chunk of you really wanted him to despite that fact.

What you didn’t see was the way Elvis stared after the taxi until it had completely disappeared down the street, and then at the small scrap of paper in his hands. He gently traced his finger over your loopy, feminine handwriting. Eager to get home so that he could give you a lil ring.

The phone had been ringing off the hook since ten o’clock that morning. One after the other, Elvis had left you voicemail after voicemail. You had half the mind to just rip out the cord and cut your losses, but knew that your manager would have no way to contact you if she needed to. So you put up with the inappropriate amount of calls.

“Ya did buy me a shot of tequila last night, which I think has to be a sign that I’m supposed to go to Mexico with ya.”

Beep.

“Me and my band just finished recordin’ our album, which means that I have way too much time on my hands. Really, you would be doin’ me a damn favor if you let me go with you.”

Beep.

“Elvis Presley in Cancún. Elvis Presley in Cancún. Elvis Presley and his weiner are fuckin’ comin’ to Cancún.” His singing echoed around the house.

Beep.

“Hola, mi amor-”

Beep.

“Cancún~,” You bit your lip to keep your smile at bay as you dragged your heavy silver suitcase down your stairs and up to the front door. “Cancú-”

“Elvis.”

“Darlin’!” He called out excitedly as you picked up the phone for the first time that entire morning.

“Don’t. Come.” You tried using your stern voice, hoping he would finally take you seriously.

A beat, and then came his answer.

“I’m fuckin’ comin’.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Don’t.” And with that you hung up, dragging your luggage out your front door and towards the waiting taxi.

You should have been appalled, but how could you be? Because what if he really did show up? The thought of seeing him again made her palms go a bit sweaty. "U-Umm. . . You can just drop me off at the front. There's no need to try and park with all of that airport traffic."

“Are you looking for someone?” Your friend asked, standing up the tips of her toes so that she could shove her carry-on into the overhead compartment.

You pushed the sunglasses higher up on the bridge of your nose, leaning further back into your seat as you watched the door to the plane like a hawk. You hated the fact that Veronica was so observant. Well. . . in this case, at least. She could read you like a book. She had already questioned you about last night until she was blue in the face, and the last thing you needed was for her to find out that there was a possibility that he might be following you all the way to Mexico. And why? You still had no clue.

“Of course not. I’m just eager to lift off, is all. I’m hoping to take a little nap until we get there.” You hated lying more than anything, but you were willing to do anything to keep her from lecturing you.

She meant well, and you loved her for that. You just couldn’t help but feel guilty for dancing with Elvis last night, even if it had meant absolutely nothing. It had to have meant absolutely nothing to you. The two of you hadn’t even kissed, which meant that you technically hadn’t gone back on your word. Good boys were in. And bad boys?

They were out.

The nicer beachside resorts loomed high above the bustling city, their sleek designs and gaudy terraces visible from the lower streets. You had decided to roll down the window of the car so that you could enjoy the warm night air. The smells, sounds, and sights were so different from those that you were used to in L.A. It was a nice change of pace, whether you were here for work purposes or not. All you had to do was play nice with a room full of rich old men and then you’d be in the clear. Your friend had excitedly made plans for the entire weekend, doing her fair share of research to make sure that the two of you had the best time. She’d even called your resort ahead of time so that she could know what kind of food they served. She had originally agreed to come with you right after your bad breakup to keep you company, but what had once been a means to look out for you and offer you support had quickly turned into her hatching a plan to keep your mind off of things.

The fact that this trip also gave her a means to try and dissuade you from ever talking to Elvis again was just an added bonus.

“Ronnie, have you ever seen something so beautiful? Look at that.” You pointed out the window, ushering her to lean closer against you so that she could see what you were seeing.

A crowd of people were dancing amongst each other, string lights swaying softly in the oceanside breeze as they clapped joyously along with the music. You were a stickler for romance films. The cheesier, the better. It was almost as though you were watching one unfold right before your very eyes.

You continued to point this way and that, your eyes wide as you tried to fully bask in the city all around you. For a second you forgot all about the crazy musician and his threat to follow you to Mexico. It was just you and your best friend spending some much needed time away from the messy city life of Los Angeles. The car began to climb the brick road all the way up to the largest resort, intricate metal lanterns hanging from the large front porch of the building.

“They have us staying here?” Veronica gaped, her eyes wide with excitement. This was her first time out of the country in ages, and she was planning to pack in as much as she possibly could over the three day weekend. She had been sure to warn you to prepare yourself for a packed itinerary.

“I had no clue it would be this nice.” You mumbled your reply, reaching your hand out numbly as you watched a few members of the staff pour out from the front lobby.

The car door was being opened for you in the blink of an eye, your luggage already being carried up and into the building.

“Miss (L/N) and friend, we’re so pleased that you could bless us with your presence. My name is Oliver and I will be taking care of all of your needs. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything at all.” Oliver looked to be a year or two younger than you, dressed up in a pressed suit and perfectly starched tie. He sounded like he was reading off of a script, eager to please the star and her close friend.

When you had envisioned Cancún you hadn’t thought of. . . such a fancy resort. Sprawling beaches and family owned restaurants were more your style, but this? You’d happily thank your manager for booking you such a sweet gig. You and your friend would be staying in your own suites on the top floor for free, and all you had to do was sit and look pretty during dinner tonight. Living the life of a celebrity was still new to you, so you had been told that you still had that “small town” charm that people adored so much. You were personable and genuine, which was rare to find in Sin City. Your good looks and sweet attitude was, thankfully, the reason why you were able to live such a lush lifestyle.

“Thank you, Oliver. If you could just point me in the direction of our suites that would be amazing. I need to get dressed for tonight.” Your white sneakers and yoga pants felt hideously out of place in the large lobby. Men and women in full glamor passed by you and your leisurely dressed friend, causing the both of you to duck your heads down in embarrassment in fear of being perceived.

“Of course. Here is your key ma’am,” Oliver slid you the golden key with a well trained smile. “And then here is yours.”

You started to walk off in the direction of the elevator but froze as he called your name once again.

“Someone delivered flowers for you. I can have them brought to your room as well if you’d like.” The young brunette reached down on the table behind him, placing the intricate bouquet down on the counter in front of you.

Your jaw dropped as you realized just how expensive something like that must have been, especially to be delivered. Peonies, babies breath, roses- it was huge. You couldn’t think of anyone that would deliver flowers to you. Not in Cancún, at least.

Veronica elbowed your side gently, eagerly urging you to read the card.

“It’s from-” You couldn’t help but bite your lip, trying to keep your smile at bay. Tonight was already turning out to be wonderful. . . and you practically just landed.

That smile, however, was quick to fall off of your face as you read the card.

i wanted to give credit to my amazing beta readers! @meds4beatlemania, @austinsmutler and a special thanks to @memphis-mania. mem literally held my hand throughout the editing process and gave me the confidence i needed to put on my big girl panties and post! are you interested in becoming a beta reader? feel free to message me!

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

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vallikesgivinghugs · 1 year ago

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Ooh sounds fun let's do it!

Under read more because y'know don't want people to have to scroll through all of that if they don't care.

1. IbisPaintX, honestly it was my first art program I ever actually used but now I'm FireAlpaca's bitch.

2.Oooh I personally really enjoy/have an easier time drawing front facing characters, profiles are so darn difficult.

3. Big bright and noticeable eyeshines i guess! Always been a thing for me, so my characters always have extra bright eyes. Or i guess eyes in general are a thing I kept from my kiddie days.

4. Crystaline stuff and MAGIC. I love them both so much but god can I not draw them for the life of me. And hair! But hair i'm starting to figure out!

5. Now that I think about it's pretty darn close id I do say so myself! Like 40 to 45% i post online (mostly on discord) and then 55 to 60% i keep to myself!

6. When I draw cats it's a lot of inspo from different warrior cats fandom big names but in general anime is my big inspo!

7.Traditional painting! I tried painting and it's just not for me but I love the way it looks and how many thing people can do with it!

8. God the amount of stories and characters that I've just left as wips in immense. I have adhd, can't finish stuff for shit.

9. Usually if it's one character it's 'character name' and then you add a number or a descriptor (aka smile or smth). Otherwise it's just like 2 or 3 words of what the drawing is. And then I group those in like 'finished art' 'wips' etc!

10.Ooh tough one. I do enjoy drawing poofy sleeved shirts or like long flowy dresses/skirts.

11.Ranges from romance music playlists to true crime and everything in between! I just need a background noise honestly. Doesn't really matter what the noise is.

12. Face. I draw floating heads on the regular.

13. Junji Ito. His style is just so freakin' interesting and his grasp on anatomy is just amazing! But, personally I'm not the biggest horror/gore fan so I don't actually read his stuff. I just find his art nifty when I see it.

14.Polkadots or stripes. Love that stuff.

15.In my room personally but I used to go out to parks and draw there when I was younger.

16.Lineart. everyone is always sayin' stuff like 'Wow your lines are so nice and clean' and while I do agree that it's one of my strengths personally my lineart always looks rigid and wrong to me. I tend to prefer my sketches and nowadays I usally clean those up and use 'em as the lineart.

17.Nope. i completely forget that my body has bodily functions when i draw. I get invested X3

18.Not many! Honestly it's less that I break them on purpose and more that I'm clumsy and drop stuff all the time but on the regular I try my best not to break stuff.

19.Flowers and bushes!

20. Armor of any kind, love me some shiny metals and belts and buckles.

21. I really like the disney style (both 2d and 3d) and I'm really a big fan of 3d animation in anime (studio orange with Trigun Stampede and Land of the Lustrous have my heart)

22.none I live on the edge. (Don't do this, please stretch your hands I'm just a dumbass)

23.I use so many layers and so many of them are multiply and add it's not even funny.

24.Yes. stock images are really good for poses and stuff. I often makes collages of multiple of them to get what I want exactly.

25. Hmmm, i dunno if that's happened to me actually.

26.Nothing comes to mind but i'm sure it's happened!

27.I draw a bunch of circles. And sometimes doodle like different body parts or sonas of mine loosely.

28.I participated in the artfight of 2023! It was a good time.

29.live action tv shows and just non-animated movies/stuff in general! I can write fanfic wips for days but drawing them? Nah.

30.hmmm can't think of any? I probably have one or two that I wish got more attention but usually the attention my art gets is pretty on par with what I' expecting!

Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game

Didn't see a lot of artist ask games, wanted to make a silly one.

(I wrote this while sick out of my mind last year and it's been collecting dust in my drafts, I might as well let it run free) 1. Art programs you have but don't use

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

3. What ideas come from when you were little

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

9. What are your file name conventions

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

12. Easiest part of body to draw

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

14. Any favorite motifs

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

23. Do you use different layer modes

24. Do your references include stock images

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

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bloody-bonesaw · 4 years ago

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WTNV 192 + AN IN-DEPTH ANALYSIS OF SCREENSHOTS FROM ‘CAT BALLOU’

I told you I was gonna do it.

First, I’m just gonna acknowledge how cool it is that Fink and Cranor even bothered to make these moments from the episode match up with the timestamps from the film, I love that they’re always trying to include their audience in fun little ways like that.

So the way I’ve decided to do this is go through the episode and compare every moment the movie is given any sort of description, until the point I’ll elaborate on later, where Fink and Cranor clearly take over.

“the television turned itself on, and there she was: the Columbia Pictures statue famously morphing into a cartoon and firing off her pistols. I knew exactly the movie, and I couldn’t turn away.”

Yep, this is completely accurate to the film, not much to speculate on here, here’s that clip for anyone interested:

youtube

“But soon, I started to notice the face. At around 15 minutes and 30 seconds, between the two balladeers, in the far background there’s the city courthouse. Just to the right of the front door is a man. He appeared as a black smudge at first, but the longer I looked the more I could see that thin mouth, those threatening, beckoning eyes.”

First thing I wanna pick up on here is that this line is actually delivered wrong in the episode. Cecil accidentally says “around 15 seconds, and then 30 seconds” instead of “15 minutes and 30 seconds”. Clearly, this isn’t a big deal, I just enjoy finding little things like that when I go through the transcripts.

Here’s the screenshot of 15:30 from the movie:

I wasn’t able to capture the exact moment as screencapping movies is a pain in the ass, but within the red circle, behind the horse’s head, there is what appears to be an extra wearing a hat, who does indeed appear as just a black smudge. At no point in this shot does the camera get close enough to reveal any sort of facial features whatsoever, so the part about the “threatening, beckoning eyes” was clearly what I will henceforth refer to as, a night-valeism.

Let’s move on

"Again at 23 minutes, he’s in the crowd watching the square dance. Everyone’s heads are facing left into the circles of dancers. Every head except one. He’s looking right at the camera again. Not at the camera… at me."

This one was very difficult to analyse as “in the crowd” is a very vague description of this scene, and so they could have been referring to any one of the extras here that weren’t dancing.

Here’s the screenshot:

There were two male extras in this scene who I could make out not looking left at the dance, but the one I circled in red is the only one who actually glances at the camera. Unfortunately, it’s only on screen for a split-second before it cuts so I couldn’t get the exact moment he stares into the camera. I noticed this guy does seem to be a little less ‘in character’ than some of the extras, which is weird considering he’s pretty obvious compared to some of the other extras.

“But at 36:55 in the top right, behind the stone well in the thicket, he’s there again. If you have a copy of this movie at home, go watch it, and tell me I’m not imagining this. It reminds me of The Ring [...]”

The interesting thing about this one is that this is the first timestamp included where there is clearly no extras. Here I’ve circled a few smudges that could potentially be mistaken for figures but in this case it’s more likely that Fink and Cranor KNOW there isn’t anyone there- (cont)

-But decided to include it anyway so they could draw that comparison to ‘The Ring’. Look at the well to the right surrounded by trees and tell me it doesn’t remind you of this:

Speaking of ‘The Ring’...

“But then at 56 minutes and 56 seconds in, Jane Fonda stands in front of an old shed and throws rocks [...] And behind her on the left, a man stands with one arm on his hip, the other resting on a shovel. His hat hides his face. Then he walks slowly forward, lifting the shovel. He keeps walking forward, downscreen of Jane Fonda, who is still giving the performance everything she’s has, as if some rogue extra isn’t ruining the shot.

The man then lifts the brim of his hat and looks right into the camera. His lips are moving, but not like speaking, more like undulating. It’s hard to hear if he is making any noise, because the audio mix on this movie was terrible. I could barely discern any other sounds beneath the electrical hum of the owls.”

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve never actually watched ‘The Ring’, but I know enough about it to recognise that this scenario, intentional or not, is part of a horror trope popularised by the film. (Interestingly, I noticed Cecil and Jeffery actually covered ‘Ringu’, the Japanese original on their podcast ‘Random Number Generator Horror Podcast Number 9′ (try saying that ten times fast lol) about three weeks ago. Probably unrelated since I doubt they wrote the episode less than three weeks before its release but still, maybe it was just on their minds that day.

All that aside, this is my favourite screenshot they included and you’ll see why:

That’s right, the figure is (pretty much) EXACTLY as described (if you’ll excuse the fact that his hand is on his knee, not his hip, and he’s holding a rake, not a shovel.) As you’ve probably guessed, the second part of that paragraph is a complete Night-Valeism but that shouldn’t be a surprise.

What I love about this whole thing is how it really plays into the idea that Night Vale has suddenly become a part of our universe, what with the movie going from previously being played entirely by eternally-thirty-year-old Lee Marvin (except the balladeers played by Nat King Cole of course) to actually being how it is in the real world, and yet, still containing the Night-Valeisms that make it feel as if our universes have collided. I’d love to hear if anyone had watched this film before the episode came out and if perhaps you felt yourself double checking the scenes in a sort of Mandela-effect fuelled panic.

If you do want to watch the movie for yourself, it’s important to note that what Cecil says in the beginning about outdated and offensive jokes is also, unfortunately, entirely accurate. The film is full of mysogyny disguised as humor and casual 60s racism, so be prepared and remember to view it with a critical eye.

If you’re still reading, thank you so much! (And also what on earth are you doing I mean really.) I think it goes to show just how much I care about Welcome to Night Vale that I watched a whole 90 minute movie I wouldn’t have otherwise cared about just so I could give context to this 20 minute episode. I love this damn show so much.

#long post #wtnv #welcome to night vale #night vale #podcast #podcasts #cat ballou #Youtube

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dynam-patron-of-good-decisions · 3 years ago

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An introduction

It’s strange really, a new scrybe has appeared. You’re not exactly sure who they’ve beaten, you’ve seen them change so much, but the weird part is that they’ve requested you as a challenger, so you sit, on top of a grassy hill, playing card games with this thing in front of you. It’s body looks human... mostly, a little too tall, limbs a little too long, and eyes that would make you think this was Magnificus taking back his throne, if he hadn’t died years ago. One eye moves around wildly, like it has a mind of it’s own. The other stares directly at you, even if you get up and move around the hill.

After a while, the scrybe finally speaks. “My cards are ready, take these.” It hands you two piles of cards, your main deck and the “peon” deck, as you’ve taken to calling it. “We will simulate a simple battle, to test if my deck works, I truly thank you for coming with me today, from what I hear you are a professinal at finding weaknesses in decks.” You laugh, and remember your days as Leshy’s challenger, with your 999 corpse eating ouroborus, or your worthy sacrifice cat, those were great times. The scrybe speaks once more “draw your 5, and let us begin.” You draw your 4 cards and peon, called a whispering cultist this time, and think over your strategy.

“For my currency, I use whispers” He starts, explaining the basic information while you read over your cards. “You gain 10 a turn, and you spend them to play cards, you can see the cost in the top right.” You ask “Where is the rulebook? I need to see what the cultist does.” “The rulebook is being worked on, play the card and i’ll tell you what it does, I’ll allow you to take back cards due to the unnatural circumstances.” You play the cultist down. “Whispering Cultist, maddened with visons, they grant you an extra 10 whispers while alive, and an additional 50 if you can make them stop.” Your counter goes up an extra 10, and you begin to play some cards. “Oryx, The Bright Flame, lowers the attack of all enemies.” “Bast, Goddess of Cats, Can be sacrificed, subtracting it’s whisper total to the cost of the being you wish to summon.” “Oztalun, Golden and Shimmering One, provides more attack to the beings who ally with him”

You ring the bell, and deal 4 damage to the scrybe, nearly instantly taking them out. They add 4 rocks to the scale, and move The Cloud-Thing towards your cultist, which it’s sigil kills, and it deals 2 damage to you, evening the odds just a little in his favor. “Your move” they say. You notice that their mouth doesn’t move when they say that, did that always happen? You draw a rare card from the pile, and the scrybe goes crazy. Well, at least their left eye does, bouncing around like a windows screensaver, their right is now fixated fully on the card. You gain 60 whispers, bringing your total high enough to play the card. You can’t see anything about this card, except it’s cost and stats, it’s a fairly good card, 4/4, with a crown as a sigil. You sacrifice Bast for the missing amount, and play it down.

The sky turns a dark purple as a rift opens above your head, A yellow being steps down from the sky, and everything breaks. For an instant, you are back in leshy’s cabin. For an instant, you are the scrybe, battling yourself, and staring Hastur in the face. For an instant, you are underground, choking on dirt and rubble, while the scrybe screams in supposed joy the entire time. It ends back on the hill, as the Scrybe says “Hastur, The King in Yellow, Every time he attacks, you gain an extra coin after the battle ends.” You ring the bell, Hastur deals direct damage, Leshy places 4 screws on the scale, and you win. The new scrybe hands you a coin and says “Go, thank you for testing with me, everything works as planned, I am the Scrybe of Eldrich.”

#scrybe of eldrich #inscryption #please tell me how you all like them

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facets-and-rainbows · 5 years ago

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Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

#blue exorcist #interview #Ao no Exorcist #translation

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seancekitsch · 4 years ago

Text

Thirsty Crow: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Kinktober fic, part of the Prize Buck series

warnings/prompt: massage, light anal, praise kink, possessiveness, happens in the 60s and references the other 60s prize buck fics, klaus is insecure and a lil shit. I mentioned mouse corporation so if i get disappeared you know you gotta save me from orlando florida, cult mentions, its not referenced but klaus def has that gross beard that i kinda like, we think this gif is extra fun

“You gonna screw me today, Prophet?” You ask, using a nickname he’s starting to hate, wanting to get under his skin a little. Wondering, will that get him to really put some muscle into this massage? He’d agreed to this, laying you out naked in the tent on your stomach while the heat of the california sun beat down on you both, rubbing oils and lotions into your skin as he worked diligently, but holding back as if he didn't want to hurt you. Problem is, you needed this massage to hurt to take the ache and pain away.

“Hmmm, no. You've been kind of a brat, high priestess-” That fucking nickname. “-and I have some prayers to lead!”

That's maybe the most sarcastic you've ever heard him, the way his voice crescendos by the end of the sentence. God, was this ‘spiritual community’ starting to really wear the two of you down. Its been especially brutal the last few weeks. You had not been able to sneak off into the desert in a while and the two of you were beginning to talk about running to a mansion he had in Dallas for the winter.

“Fine then,” you huff, defeated, “I’ll go walk around the campground...again.”

“Off to see your little side piece?”

Fucking Madelaine. Klaus’ possessive streak was flaring up, as was his impatience and agitation. You hadn’t touched her since you and Klaus had foolishly attempted an orgy that sparked this possessiveness.

“No, you know I’d rather avoid another run-in.” Klaus rewards this response with a particularly satisfying move, a squeeze to the muscles that cover your shoulder blades that makes you groan, feeling some of the tension leak from your skin under his touch.

He continues his mapping and prodding and squeezing down your back, to the bottom of your ribs.

“You wanna know what you say to Madeleine?” you moan into his touch, the bone of his thumb hitting a particularly tight knot in your back, the warm oil on your back making his fingers glide without fiction over your aches. When he speaks again his hot breath is right against the shell of your ear.

“You tell her: Why the long face, Blondie? I’m already taken, sorry.” His low growl, the closeness, the heat, sends a shudder down your spine, sends electric shocks down to your core. If his hands go any lower- he’ll know. He’ll know his words have that effect on you. Not that he didn't already, but it's the embarrassment of being so easily turned on by just a simple sentence and a massage. You love how dominant he is in this time period, and you're more than willing to bend or spread to his will.

“Or… How about you just fuck me and let the mickey mouse club run itself for the day?” you groan as he pushes the knuckle of his middle finger down above your left ass cheek, straight into the muscle below, the good hurt.

He chuckles.

“This is why you're my better half, delicious creature.”

And the next thing you hear is the shuffle of clothing, Klaus shimmying himself out of the loose trousers he was wearing no doubt. He returns to close proximity to push your hair from your neck, to kiss a straight line down your spinal cord, hands tracing the curves of your sides as he goes until he reaches your hips. Those he grips from beneath, pulling them up until you are situated on your knees, just how he wants you. You rise to your hands to meet him the rest of the way as you can feel him start to run his hands over where you need him most.

“This wet? Really? You weren’t kidding. You need me pronto!” You practically keen at his touch, pushing your ass back hoping to make contact with him. He’s merciful, giving you what you want. His next action is to pull his hands away, to loudly lick and suck on the fingers that were just inspecting you, really putting on a show while you stare at the tan canvas of the tent in anticipation. There's a stain, you notice, dontgettooexciteddontbeneedy, and some paint splotches on the tent and- oh.

He sinks in without warning, giving you less than a second to adjust before he starts thrusting.

Klaus knows how to fuck you just to get you desperate, to get you screaming for him. His hands are all over you, the massage oil doing wonders to let his big warm hands push across the muscles of your back and massage you even now as he fucks you. He fucks you like you're one, not as in joined, one in the typical coupling sense. One as in the two of you are the same being. His left hand travels up your back, pressing down on the expanse between shoulder blades, urging you to press your face into the pillows, which you gladly do. The other hand travels to your hip, gives a tight squeeze, enough to leave a bruise, before traveling to your ass just above where his hips connect to you.

His thumb traces your ass cheek, but then settles in between, ghosting over the hoel he wasn't currently occupying as a notion crossed his mind.

“Has anyone-” a moan, “Has anyone been back here before?”

You shake your head no, but accompany it with a no that's much breathier and whinier than you intended. Truthfully, you were always worried it would hurt, not even thinking of trying it with any past partners. But Klaus? Klaus is different. He wouldn't hurt you in a way you didn’t want on purpose.

“Oh fuck, that a beautiful thought. This ass could be all mine. Mine to claim and mine to keep.”

Jesus tap dancing Christ, if he kept talking like this you’d let him fuck you back there right now.

“Yes- Yes, please Klaus, it's all yours,” you moan, “I’ll let you have it. Anything you want.”

A please dies on you lips as his thumb starts to gently rub against the hole, gathering some of the wetness against your skin, adding gentle pressure with each pass until he finally pushes in,

“Ooohh fuck, thats- yeah thats good. Oh tell me, say ‘Klaus, this asshole belongs to you.’ Can you do that, darling?” He's using the same voice that draws the attention of thousands of people, commanding, ungentle.

“Klaus, this asshole belongs to -oh,shit- it belongs to you. Please,”

“Please what?”

Please make me cum. Please do this forever. Please run away with me and all that fucking money. Please let's play happy couple in your mansion in Dallas. Just… please.

But that's not what you say. You don't say anything. Instead a high pitched whiny moan, octaves above your natural register makes its way past closed lips as you turn your head to look over your shoulder, to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh you’re so fucking pretty like that. So good for me, so trusting.”

And he speeds up. Thrusting hard into you while his thumb stays unmoving inside you, giving you a taste of what could be. It's like a game cat-and-mouse, you think, but as he chases you he claims more and more of you as his own.

“Youre so fucking good for me, wicked thing, so fucking good. This cunt is so tight for me. This ass is so tight for me. Sweetest little cunt under the sun, and I have it all to myself.”

Not that your stupid little mouse brain sees the danger of a cat, or really cares about keeping any distance. It's not like this cat has ill intentions either. Maybe the cat can win. You're going to let him win, you decide, as the thumb inside you sinks just that much deeper, causing you to convulse and shake as an orgasm sneaks up on you, overtakes your entire being. Stars cloud your vision as you have to bury your face into the pillows, screaming into them as you come undone around him.

“Oh yes, darling, keep squeezing me like that- keep-” he stutters out, trails into a groan before he slips his thumb out of you and collapses onto you, still inside you.

You're sleepy and warm, relaxing under the weight of him, enjoying the feeling of him still inside you as he begins to press kisses into your hair.

“You're all mine, fraulein, all mine.”

You hum in agreeance.

“Just for me.”

Just for Klaus.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves smut #prize buck series

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jobrookekarev · 3 years ago

Note

This is a lot but can you do 2,3,14,29,23??

I'll do 23 and 29 and answer the rest of the ask after work this evening!

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place, and at any time?

Alex, but Jo is DTF just as much as he is. Early in their relationship, they do it constantly, to the point at which their friends are making jokes that they're going at it like rabbits and they're going end up with a dozen kids. As they get to know each other more they start to learn each other's cues. When it's a good time to initiate sex and when it's not a good time, but their sex drives remain very high and very much in sync even after they're married.

They get very good at telling when the other person is horny. Jo jokes about how she can ‘sense’ Alex before he comes up to her and asks for sex. And Alex can tell from Jo's body language that she needs the D. However there are still times when the other catches them by surprise by pulling them into an on-call room or the occasional supply closet and gives the other that look. Then the next thing they know they're tearing off each other scrubs.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Jo! She'll really enjoys her shower time and loves taking a bath at least once a week. Growing up in her car it was really difficult for her to get in a shower every day even. Mrs. Schmidt let her use the locker rooms showers at school, but on the weekends she had to wait until Monday. Now that she had her own place and her own shower she makes sure to take at least a few minutes in the shower where she closes her eyes and just enjoys the feel of the water running over her.

Then when she takes a bath, she likes to make an event of it. She gets bath bombs and soap bars and bubbles, and candles and stuff. Usually, she’ll prop her laptop up on the toilet and watch something or other times, she’ll just, sit in the warm water and relax.

Alex sees the showers as strictly, getting clean or get sexy spaces. He takes a shower because he needs to, not because he wants to. Although he'll admit that standing under the warm water, with his arms wrapped around Jo and his head on her shoulder as he closes his eyes, is pretty relaxing. But he mostly loves pulling Jo into the shower for some early-morning sex. So he's definitely the one who tries to make it sexy every time they shower together, although Jo enjoys shower sex just as much as he does.

One night after a particularly long week, maybe like right after Jo has switched specialties and she's a resident again. She's doing all this scut and she mentions how this time around feels ten times harder than it did when she was younger. So Alex decides to make a very special bath for her. He decides to go get some stuff from Lush and he walks in the door and immediately freezes up. He has no idea what to buy for her so he wanders over to where it says bath bombs and starts sniffing a few of them. Luckily one of the assistance comes over and asks if he needs anything. Alex just says that his wife has been working really hard and she loves taking baths and that he wants to draw her a bath and get her something so it's extra special. So the assistant takes him around the store and they pick out a honey massage bar, a pink bubble bath bar, some lavender bath bombs, some honey soap, a face mask, and some moisturizer. Alex even ends up getting some shower gel for himself.

So he goes home and he sets up the bathroom with candles and light music and he gets the bath stuff ready for her with some chocolate and wine as well, but he doesn’t want o run the water until she gets home. So Jo comes home and she immediately flops on the couch and says that she's not moving for the rest of the weekend. Alex gently prompts her to take off her shoes, and her jacket and offers to run her a bath. She agrees and he starts the water and lets him pull her into the bathroom. There she is greeted with the bath that he set up for her. For a moment she just stares at him before wrapping her arms around him and thanking him profusely with kisses. She insists that he share the bath with her, so he gets in first and she gets in next and leans against his chest and closes her eyes and relaxes. Alex holds her and he washes her hair and her body and she gets so relaxed she fell asleep in the tub. Alex is so proud of himself that Jo loves it so much and from then on he draws her a bath on special occasions and becomes a regular Lush customer.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Jo holds his hand all the time. She loves being connected to him and Alex loves putting his hands on her waist and hounding her close. They're both touch-sensitive to the point of which they can't fall asleep unless there cuddling each other. Jo loves knowing that he's there and Alex leaves her hand in a gentle reminder that she is loved.

NSFW under the line

I think ass grabbing is 60/40, Alex/Jo. Before he ever does it Alex asks permission to grab her butt and he asks her how she feels about him doing it in public or around friends. Jo is totally down for all ass grabs and slaps, especially in the bedroom. Once he has her consent, he starts to do it pretty regularly. He's definitely more of a boobs man, but he loves grabbing her ass and saying that it's his. Usually, he'll pass her in the hallways and reach out and give her ass a squeeze. Whenever she makes him chase after her or they're running together, he'll run up and slap her ass before he grabs her waist and pulls her in for a kiss.

Jo does it on occasion, usually, she'll slap Alex’s ass whenever he's being an ass or when she wants him to hurry up. Occasionally she will really squeeze his butt just to remind him that his ass is hers and no one else's!

#my ask is open #ask me about Jolex #jo wilson #alex karev #grey's anatomy #otp: home and heart #jolex #grey's anatomy fanfic #my work #my writing #my ideas #asks #my fanfiction

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toukenramblings · 4 years ago

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Modern AU: House Husband!Kasen Kanesada

I WON’T LIE THAT I THOUGHT ABOUT HOUSE HUSBAND KASEN A LOT DURING WORK LMAO. ENJOY

Warnings: Sfw+Nsfw, BAD POETRY

SFW

Kasen is no doubt an early riser, but more so along the lines of reluctant riser. He values his sleep no doubt, and will mumble and grumble as he slowly opens his eyes and wakes up. Kasen is also a kind of man who needs caffeine (tea or coffee, depends on what he’s feeling like at the time and his coffee has to be extra sweet with a cute little whipped cream swirl on top, don’t ask) to fully function. He’s sluggish when he wakes up. A kiss will be just as nice as his morning drink too! He will flush when you give him a morning kiss but will happily kiss you back before telling you to go brush your teeth.

Kasen is also pretty damn good at cooking. Will also stylize his dishes and post them to social media. But he is also posting poetry, aesthetically pleasing shots, and hes that one aesthetic blog on social media or something. His captions on food pics aren’t flashy or anything of the sort, it’s just a mere post and maybe a lil haiku in the description of how proud he is to have made it, or something of the sort!

Most of the posts on his social media are beautiful shots of you, framing your gorgeous self and of course the caption is just a poem that spans like 50 pages of how much he loves you.

When he gets up, he’ll help you chose your clothes for work! Most of the time it’s done the night before, set out on your desk or something.

Your lunch always has a little note tucked into it, most likely a poem of encouragement.

Date nights are always consisting of book reading, poetry writing, or dance nights! It doesn’t have to be out of the house but if it is, damn right is Kasen going to look BEAUTIFUL. Will make sure you two have matching outfits. Also adores it when you two match, wittingly or not!

Is not shy about sharing clothing with you. Sure perhaps it’s smaller/bigger for him to wear but who the hell cares???? He loves you and damn right he will show it off! Flushes when you wear his clothing and will shyly admit that he adores it.

Kasen is a bit of a shopaholic. He also has a bit of a habit of impulse buying things: stuff you like, stuff he likes, matching items for you two to wear together. Hell shopping dates are common between you two! Sure Kasen will try to steal the bags from you and forbid you from holding his stuff but it's just showing that he cares. You're his muse after all, don’t be surprised if he suddenly stops at a random store with clothing he thinks suits you! He will drop everything and drag you inside to see if anything will suit you!

Will 100% show up at your workplace to bring you lunch personally, your coworkers cannot help but be enamored with your husband, his elegance, how he walks, how he is cordial with everyone he meets but almost lights up when he sees you. Everyone teases you at work that you have such a cute husband who always leaves you with a peck on your cheek and lunch - Kasen probably has a side business of making poems to help people confess/make their partner happy!

The only PDA you’re getting from Kasen is hand-holding and cheek kisses, that’s that. Ain’t no one allowed to see your happy little face when you two kiss. You surprising him with PDA on the other hand will end him, flushed face, turns away, mumble something that it’s inappropriate before diving in to give you a taste of your own medicine.

NSFW

Shibari. Lingerie. Whatever the hell. Kasen adores a sense of beautiful elegance and will not hesitate to pick out some lingerie for you, taking in how your body is made/shaped, colors that suit you, material, what you like, so on and so forth! He’s...a regular at this one sex shop. The cashier knows Kasen by name and they regularly have debates on what kind of stuff you should wear.

Though if you surprise him with picking out something yourself Kasen will be just as happy to see you like that! Not before wanting to make you into a sobbing fucked out mess but he loves it when you have something underneath your clothing!

Sexting consists of nothing but long ass poems of EXACTLY what Kasen will do to you that night. It’s like 60 pages long but it’s WORTH IT. If you’re lucky, you’ll sometimes see HIM in lingerie, sending you naughty little pictures of what he’s wearing. And then there are audio clips that are like just him reading his naughty poetry to you. He won’t send videos often but when they do, HOOOO BOI.

“Your lips are of liquor, for even a glance at them gets me drunk. A flush against your cheeks, roses cascading down your form, dipping under the twine and silk that dares to bar my way.

“Forever let me stay within your heart, your breast, your soul, they beat as one. Our hands collide, fingers seeking with earnest, I never want to leave you.”

“Paint your body white, forever with my dear love, I am enamored.”

Nothing but body worship here my friends. Kasen will draw out paintings and poems with his tongue on your skin if he must. Hickies are placed only in the most intimate of places. He doesn’t mind marking up your neck, oh no! It’s fine but this is an art piece that only he is allowed to see.

And then we get to his tongue. He is a poet, he has a silver tongue, he knows how to use that damn thing. Will adore it when you two suck on each other’s fingers.

You two are fucking in the bedroom, that’s it. You two can tease each other all you want around the house, but the bedroom is a sacred place. He won’t lie that he hasn’t thought about fucking you in his studio/office but is also worried of making a mess. So that’s more or less off of the table.

Your wedding night was nothing short of slow and lovely, Kasen wouldn’t even initiate the act until much later. You two would just lie there in a bed, kissing and tracing each other’s forms until you are satisfied. Oh so slow languid kisses shared, hands tangling in hair. Kasen would be slow, taking his time with you. He wants to savor that moment, when you two have sex the first time as a married couple; wanting to etch that into his body and memory.

Yes Kasen might have a slight oral fixation, but you look me in the eye and tell me gagging Kasen wouldn’t be a cute as fuck sight. He never wants to be blindfolded though, he has to see you!! No way are you hiding your beautiful form from him!

Aftercare is so tender and sweet, his hands would massage every joint and every inch of your body, pressing sweet kisses and whispering praises. A bottle of water, and of course, making sure that you two are clean - bed sheets too. Gonna change those no matter how tired he is.

#touken ranbu #touken danshi #touken ranbu x reader #sin bin #my writing #touken ranbu imagine #tkrb #tkrb x reader #tkrb imagine #kasen kanesada #kasen kanesada x reader #kasen kanesada imagine #IM PROUD OF THESE KASEN HEADCNAONS PLS LIKE THEM

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cucumbers-and-olives · 4 years ago

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Coffee shops and cliches

Or, this idiot writer is on hiatus but felt obligated to write something.

Summary: “slow burn” coffee shop au

Category: coffee shop au! ☕️

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Julie x Flynn

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/Includes: tad bit of cursing, luke’s an ass

A/N: this is for the @jatpsecretvalentine event! shoutout to @screwunsaidemily for organizing this! i and so much fun!

@flynnsmolinas this is for you! happy valentine’s day! 💛

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: ha ha! i did this on my own! no betas but me

AO3 link here (it’ll be up after my hiatus)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Julie said, looking at the person who had just walked up to her register. Her coffee shop, Good Times, brought in all kinds of customers. It was the perfect mix of all the good things a coffee shop should be.

“Uh, just a large coffee please.” The girl said as she dug through her small backpack.

“Of course! That’ll be 5 dollars,” As the girl looked up at her, Julie blushed. She didn’t think she had ever seen anyone prettier in her life.

“You okay?” She said, placing $5 in Julie’s outstretched hand. If you asked Julie, she would have sworn that at that moment, she had felt sparks.

Snap out of it, Molina! Julie told herself. “Uh, yeah, could I get a name?” She grabbed her sharpie and a cup as the girl spoke.

“Flynn.”

Flynn.

Flynn came into the shop at the same time after that. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. As Julie worked her shift, she would come in at exactly 3 in the afternoon. The small table in the corner of the shop was her favorite. Julie had watched her the first week she came in, as she tried different tables.

She tried the table in the far corner of the shop once, and Julie made up an excuse about how the shop needed to be swept so she could look at the stunning girl.

But now, it was 3. And then 4 came, and 5. Flynn still wasn’t here.

“Do you think she’s okay? She always comes in at exactly this time, she has to be okay. Right?” Julie said, looking at Reggie. Reggie was one of the many aspiring musicians in LA, and sometimes, his band would play at the cafe. They would bring in a huge crowd of girls, and Julie didn’t mind the band.

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Reggie promised his boss. “She could be caught in traffic, or she doesn’t want coffee today.”

“Yeah…” Julie said, turning to the register as Reggie’s bandmate walked up. “Luke, what can I get you?”

“Two things,” the flirtatious boy said. “Your number, and Mr.Reginald.”

“Magic word?” Julie said, her focus pulling away as the bell at the front of the shop.

Flynn was huffing and puffing, her hair was wild and all over the place, but her one constant. Her backpack.

“Please,” Luke said, drawing Julie’s attention back.

“Reg! Luke’s asking for you!” She turned to the boy, her smirk matching his. “And as for my number Luke, you’ll have to order something to get it.” Julie turned to Reggie, who was emerging from the back of the shop.

“Okay, you need to get your boy out of the shop, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. Especially after your last concert.” Reggie rolled his eyes as you spoke, but when he saw Flynn, his eyes lit up.

“I’m always here if Julie fails you,” He hollered as he dragged Luke out by his ear.

Julie sighed. “I- I am so sorry about, well, that,” She said, but nothing could hide that she was now a stuttering, flustered mess after seeing Flynn.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, boys suck,” She fiddled with her fingers a bit. “So if I order something, I can get your number?” Julie was surprised at her words.

“Uh,” She froze for a second as she processed. “Well, I- I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Oh, well, can I get whatever your largest size is, and your most caffeinated drink with two extra shots of espresso?” Flynn asked.

“Are you okay?” Julie said, looking at the girl with the most caring look in the world.

“Yeah, I’ve got an essay due at 11:59, an essay I haven’t started, and- and it’s worth 60% of my final grade.”

“Alright then, our largest size is an X-L, and it’s like about this big,” Julie held her hands up to show something that was 2 times bigger than the large. “And as for most caffeine, if you add two shots to a macchiato, that gives me the boost I need to get through doing taxes,” Julie let out a small laugh.

“That would be great, actually,” She smiled. “Uh, how much?” Flynn said, pulling out her wallet.

“Oh, this is on the house! Don’t worry about it,” Julie said. “You got any music selections you’d like us to play? Music helps me get through anything, so if you want-”

“Everybody talks.” Flynn blurted out.

“I love that song! Okay, I will have your drink and the song playing, in about 5 minutes!”

Flynn gave an appreciative smile and walked over to her table. The one in the corner.

“Alrighty, one caramel macchiato with two extra shots, a blueberry muffin, and Everybody Talks. Can I get you anything else?”

Flynn took a sip of the coffee. “This is perfect, thank you.”

“Of course!” A smile rested on Julie’s face as she walked back to her station. She anxiously pulled out her phone and checked it for any texts.

“Julie!” Luke shouted, bursting through the door. Reggie was close behind him, trying to stop the boy.

“If you are going to be this loud, I’ll ban Sunset Curve from playing here, got it?” She stared the boy down.

“Okay but, Reggie told me about the coffee girl. Ya know, the one who orders a large black coffee every other day at 3?”

“Where are you going with this?” Julie sighed, annoyed, and desperately trying to stop him from saying anything more.

“Well,” He stumbled towards her. “You like her!” Julie started to protest to his statement, but her flustered face betrayed her. “Ha! I was right!” He shouted in victory.

“Luke,” Reggie said, in a warning tone.

“What? Is coffee girl here?” He gazed around the shop. “Reggie said she always sits at table 2B. I don’t know what that means, but he also said that she came in late today.” He spun around, his eyes landing on the table where Flynn was working on her essay.

Her eyes and face said it all. She had heard everything.

“Luke, get the hell out of my shop,” Julie said quietly.

He raised his hands and nodded to Flynn. “She never would have told you anyway.”

The shop was quiet for a moment after Luke left. Julie walked over to the music tablet and clicked on everybody talks.

At least music could fill the silence.

Flynn didn’t come to the shop for two weeks after that.

Julie didn’t receive any new texts.

She wanted someone by her side that day. Opening up the shop, it felt like an opportunity had passed by. I should have written my number on that cup, fuck. Julie didn’t curse, and she tried to stay away from people who did, but she felt so dumb.

Hanging up the last heart, she stepped back to her station, fiddling with everything as she prepared for the morning’s rush.

“Can you believe it’s already Valentine’s day?” Someone said, clearly in a call as they entered the shop. “It’s like the year has gone by so fast already.”

“What can I get for you?” Julie asked. They held up a finger as they wrapped up their conversion.

“Oh, I’m just the messenger. Are you Julie?” She nodded. “Okay great! This,” They pulled a letter out of their pocket and placed it on the counter. “Is for you. Good luck!”

“Uh, thanks?” Julie said as they left.

It was a busy Saturday, so it wasn’t until 4 hours later that Julie was able to open the letter.

“Dear Julie. Want to see where this leads? Follow the hearts,” Julie read. “Okay then. Reggie! You are in charge! I’ll be back! Okay?” She said, stepping outside after he confirmed. “Follow the hearts… What does that mean?” She looked around, trying to find some hearts.

And there, on the little bridge next to the shop, was a heart. It had a little note that said, “follow me!”

And so she did. Down the bridge, past the library, and finally, landing outside the garden.

There was a final heart, one with a rose and a note this time. It simply read, “Picnic?” That was all Julie needed as she looked out to the garden.

And there, amongst the field of grass, was the only person she’d ever need.

Send me an ask if you’d like to leave/join my tag list(s)!

JATP: @n0wornever @calamitykaty @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @badwolf00593 @dream-a-little-bigger-x

All: @funsizearsonist

#hi yeah i’m lazy so i’ll add these in an rb when my hiatus is over or something #cucumber writes #julie x flynn #julie molina #jatp julie #flynn nolastname #jatp flynn #double trouble #coffee shop au #jatp #jatp fanfic

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und3rc0ver · 4 years ago

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Exhausted (Some Chilumi cuz why not =D )

Haha computer go clicck clack.

After seeing @restlessfandoming writing some awesome fanfics, me -along with my mediocre vocabulary- thought I'll try to make my own. I found Chilumi cuz of their writing, so I think there's no harm in making my own.

P.s: if u read this, ur writing is superior to mine (@restlessfandoming)

(SPOILERS: Events after 1.1 update)

< Part One >

Why is everyone one here so needy?!?! Can’t I just have a break for one single day!?

Lumine - the hero of Mondstat, was tired, exhausted, and breathless. She hadn’t slept on a comfy bed, ate a decent meal, or even sat down and took a couple of breaths for herself for a good month now.

She’d just finished quest after quest, fight after fight, journey after journey. She couldn’t count how many places she visited today. And while it was heartwarming to hear the people’s thank-you’s and receive their rewards during her treks, it wasn’t enough to swing her out of this coma.

To her, it just felt instinctual. She doesn’t even notice it anymore.

And despite being a tad bit oblivious -and dare I say, stupid- at times, the traveller’s guide, Paimon, was the first to pick up on it.

“Oh god, you look more depressed than Diluc!” She joked; but to some extent, she was right. Lumine just shook those words off like some dust off her shoulder, as she ventured through the busy streets of Liyue.

"I'm fine.." Lumine said.

All of these adventures came at a cost: paid usually by time, energy, and patience. But when all was settled, she still hadn’t met all of the Seven, or even found a clue to find her brother.

The thought would immediately drain any happiness she found in Teyvat.

But of all the people she has met, and all the people she has fought alongside and against, only one really caught Lumine's attention.

The Eleventh Harbinger, Childe.

The flipside of a ruthless harbinger being as protective and supportive to anyone was puzzling her. Even after the Harbinger explained his morals and goals, she simply couldn’t fathom the idea of it.

They did have their share of tussles and disagreements, but when is all said and done, they made up rather quickly.

But one thing was for sure; she saw both sides of this coin, and she was intrigued by it.

Besides, seeing Childe being so energetic and silly with Teucer was pleasing to her. It warmed the traveler’s cold and seemingly hopeless heart.

Ah! She stopped at a vantage point overlooking the busy harbour of Liyue. Peering over a thin wooden fence, resting her elbow and head onto the rail.

“Perhaps he’s like a vigilante: he doesn’t seem to like the Fatui’s ideas, but he still is apart of them.”

Lumine was thinking hard, trying to place the right piece in this puzzle.

"It seems like he calls his shots for good results and benefits of his family." She mumbled to herself quietly. She remained puzzled, leaning on the fence, trying to recall what she knew about the Harbinger.

When he wasn't a merciless warrior, Childe was an energetic, and arrogant person: it was these traits that ultimately won over her trust.

However, it was difficult to think about him positively after he tried -and nearly succeeded- to kill her.

But it was not impossible.

Meanwhile, Paimon wasn’t going to just stand there and let the traveler think on an empty stomach.

“UGH,” she groaned, floating right in front of Lumine to obscure her view. “Can we please get something to eat?”

“Okay,” She responded, pulling out a chicken-mushroom skewer.

But like a picky toddler, she pushed the skewer away.

“Do you think I’m gonna eat this garbage again!??” She said furiously, followed up by a small growl from her stomach. “We’ve eaten the same thing for five days straight! Don’t we have like 800 000+ Mora that we can spend?”

At this point, Lumine was too tired to deal with such a small event like this. Pulling a pouch from her bag, she poured some into her hand, and gave it to her hungry fairy-guide.

“Knock yourself out,” She huffed, facing Liyue’s harbour once again. A ship was docking at one of the city’s ports, full of goods and food to trade and sell: which was what stole the traveller’s attention at the moment. It would take a couple of tugs on Lumine’s dress for her to bat an eye at Paimon.

Lumine sighed,

“Not enough?” She asked, looking to snatch the pouch from the guide’s tiny hands.

“Why don’t you come with Paimon?!?! What if someone tries to steal me?!?”

“You’ll be fine..” Lumine answered, “The Millieth will save you anyways.”

“Come on!!” She wailed, tugging Lumine’s arm this time. “Stop thinking about who you want to marry and get me something to eat!!”

The traveler's eyes twitched.

It was this comment that nearly made Lumine explode. Why? It was clear as day that Lumine was quite fond of the people here. Plus, she had an embarrassing habit of staring at people she liked a lot. Anyone observant could see the signs from a mile away. Unfortunately for her, she was just too tired to be anrgy.

“Okay, okay,” she said sluggishly, stretching her arms and letting out a small yawn. “Where do you want to go?”

“I wanna try the Tigerfish from that Chen guy, people say it’s one of the best foods in Liyue!”

So off they went to find Chen, the street food vendor, which was surprisingly easier than Lumine thought.

After a ten minute wait, they arrived at the front of the line, where they were greeted by Chen’s big wide smile. This could’ve been the time where Lumie could treat herself to a little snack; but, she wasn’t hungry, and opted to stay silent.

For now..

“We’ll take four Grilled Tigerfish, please!” She ordered happily. After all, she wasn’t the one to worry about a single expense.

“Alright!” Chen said joyfully. “That’ll be 1520 Mora, please.”

Reaching into the pouch, she pulled out enough to cover the bill, along with a 150 mora tip.

“Say, Traveller,” He looked at the unenergetic Lumine, confused. “Seem a bit down today. Finding your fame in Teyvat to be overwhelming?”

She just laughed it off, taking the grilled skewers from Chen, and passing it to Paimon.

“Well, not really,” she lied.

Because everyone would want the “Hero of Mondstadt” to help them out.

“Just another busy day, full of commissions from all over the place.”

With the transaction now complete, Lumine began to walk towards the Adventurer's Guild to collect her rewards from all those commissions. But a call from a distance pulled her right back to Chen's food kiosk.

“Here,” he smiled, giving her an extra fresh-skewer.

“But shouldn’t I-”

“It’s on the house for today: I insist,” He said kindly. “Seems like you work hard to keep our city in good shape. Take it as a token of appreciation. “

Although it was a kind gesture, Lumine was skeptical of having it: she felt a bit guilty for practically stealing it.

But, if Paimon sees a good deal, she acts quickly.

“Thanks Chen! See you later!!!” She cheered, grabbing the Grilled skewer for herself.

“Anytime,” He replied. “Safe travels!”

“You too..!” Lumine said awkwardly, dragging herself away from Chen's kiosk.

Though she felt guilty at first, she felt pretty good after that kind gesture from Chen. It almost put a smile on the Traveller’s face.

Almost…

While Lumine was traversing through the busy, and colourful streets of Liyue, Paimon -who was starving for the last three hours- inhaled those fish like a vacuum.

Lumine was totally fine with eating her 10th chicken-mushroom skewer today. After all, she liked the plain dish when cooked right: but like Paimon, she too wanted a different taste.

And she, too, wanted to try Liyue’s Grilled Tigerfish.

With a sudden stop next to the Jade-betting kiosk, Lumine gave in, and sighed.

“Got any.. left..?” She asked hopelessly, knowing full-well that there’s probably none left for her anyway.

“Yeah!” The fairy said, holding two skewers of the grilled fish in her hands. “I knew you wanted to try these! They are reeaaally good!!”

One bite, and Lumine loved it. She gulped them down faster than the wind itself! This was a taste that brightened her day: one that made the girl lick the stick to get some more flavour.

Together, they walked around the busy plaza, arriving at the Adventurer's Guild commission board. Both were a bit curious if there were any newer commissions up-for-grabs.

But their luck ran out, and there were none to be seen. Both a shame, but strangely, a relief for Lumine.

I must’ve finished a lot of them. Should get me a decent reward, and maybe a break-

“Hello, traveler,” An all-familiar voice said, drawing the two’s attention. Of course, Kathyrine, the receptionist of Liyue’s Adventurer's Guild branch, was talking to them.

“I assume you’re here for your rewards for today?”

“Yeah..” She admitted.

“Today you completed 8 commissions in Liyue, correct?”

Just as she asked, Lumine slipped eight papers, all signed by each citizen she’d completed a task for.

“Well, it seems that you’ve come prepared,” Kathyrine chuckled. “Here’s your reward.”

The pouch of Mora seemed quite heavy, which Lumine knew would be 60 000 Mora (since each commission would be worth about 7 500 Mora, depending on what an Adventurer would do). It would be enough to buy her a place to stay for a couple of nights.

“Thanks,” Lumine said, gently shaking the pouch of Mora in her hand.

“Actually,” the receptionist continued, “Someone has been causing a lot of trouble near the Golden house. A couple of our adventurers have gone there and came back severely wounded, with one still in hospitality as we speak.”

“Oh,” was all that came out of Lumine’s mouth. She definetely wasn’t expecting a commission there.

“Sorry, where was it again?” Lumine asked.

“I believe this person would be in or around the Golden House.”

“Okay,”

That certainly rang a bell in the traveler's mind.

“As one of our more… experienced members, would you like to take a look and see what’s happening?”

Of course, Lumine wasn’t the kind to back down. It was this trait of hers that helped her save Mondstadt.

“Will do,” She responded.

And off she went to investigate the Golden House.

* * * * *

“You sure you don't want to come in too?”

“I think it’s better for Paimon to sit this one out.”

Once they reached the enterncenof Teyvat's Mora stash, Paimon decided to disappear into her own little world, leaving Lumine alone once again. But she wouldn’t be alone for long, because the feelings of fatigue, and nausea were slowly creeping towards the traveler. Once she cracked the door open enough for her to slide through, she tip-toed her way inside, trying her best to not reveal her presence. But for today, luck was definetely not on her side.

Out of nowhere, an electro-blade flies right next to her neck, begging to pierce Lumine’s skin. But she did not flinch a single bit. She just looked dead-pan into the eyes of the culprit:

Childe.

“I see you’ve come back for a rematch, eh?” He said slyly, letting his blade de-materialize from his hand.

“And you are here to cause some more trouble?” She countered, slowly walking towards the Harbinger: a deep, serious look at Tartaglia's lifeless eyes.

“I guess you can say that,” He admitted, now twiddling with his water blades. “Some have told me you're a workaholic now. No?”

“What makes you say that?” Lumine questioned, sword in hand.

“I’m a Fatui!” He laughed, gesturing towards the ceiling. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

At this moment, something weird was happening to Lumine. She felt nauseous, and tired all of a sudden: that burst of energy from having the Tigerfish was now depleted. She felt like her usual-self, or at least the one she presents to most people that meet her.

But worse.

She felt vomit from her throat, and judging on how relatively lumpy the texture was, it probably was those Chicken-mushroom-skewers she’d eaten for the last ten days.

Despite all of it, she still stood tall in front of the Harbinger, not letting herself give in just yet.

“So,” Tartaglia teased, wielding his signature bow. “Are we just going to stand here and look pretty, or are we going to fight?”

She wanted to say yes: she wanted to beat him convincingly: she wanted to assert her dominance.

But her body held her back.

And when the battle began, she dropped her sword right next to her feet, unable to hold it properly anymore.

“Ah, guess you don’t need a sword to beat me?” He said, his weapon hanging at his side. “I like your confidence, Ojou-chan.”

The name rolled off his tongue in a way that made Lumine flustered.

Still, with little energy left in her, she used Anemo energy to retrieve her weapon, and fought fiercely.

Punch for punch.

Block for block.

Blade for blade.

With his bow, Childe released a horde of arrows right at Lumine, but she effortlessly danced past all of them. Imidietaly, she changed a ball of wind to fire, but a slick move from the Harbinger made Lumine look silly.

It was mezmarizing watching the two go at it.

After a very intense skirmish, the two broke apart from each other, taking a small moment to breathe.

For Childe, he regained his strength to fight once again.

But Lumine had a trick up her sleeve.

And all-or-nothing, last-resort move, she had never tried before.

With the last game of energy left in her, she rushed towards the Harbinger, zooming past everything Childe threw at her.

And when the time was right, she tackled him to the ground, catching him off-guard

Luck seemed to finally be in her favour.

But not for long.

* * * * *

"Uh, boss..?" A mysterious, light voice said, panting heavily.

"What..?" Another voice -a little deeper in tone- replied.

"The Millieth are on the scene as we speak, I just got out of there without being seen."

The deeper voice laughed hysterically.

"Millieth? You pathetic coward. I guess I'll have to find it myself-"

"N-NO WAIT!" The light voice pleaded, "there's no need: I found a pattern on the floor, that may interest you."

The darker voice stood tall, looking down to his inferior.

"And what might that be..?" The darker voice snapped, holding the other by their collar.

"There's-There's a pool on the floor."

The boss dropped his co-worker from his grasp, leaning back in his throne.

"What was it…" He said, aggravated.

A pause came from the co-worker, leaving the boss on the edge of his seat.

"WHAT WAS IT!?!" He screamed furiously.

"B-b-blood and v-vomit, and some water.. sir.." The lighter voice whispered.

The boss smirked, twiddling a small dagger in one hand.

"Blood you say?" He asked curiously, leaning close to hear the other's response.

"Y-yes M'lord!!"

"... Good…"

Idk when I'll write pt.2, but thanks for reading anyways.

#childe #lumine #genshin impact #genshin impact lumine #genshin impact childe #childe x traveler #childe x lumine

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threeletterslife · 4 years ago

Text

[Finale] 02 | Ignis Fatuus

→ part 1 | part 2

→ summary: Who knew six grown men plus stupid Jeon Jungkook were so whiny? You're out here in a fucking zombie apocalypse for God's sake. They need to grow the fuck up. And while all of you are waiting for the zombies to eat your brains, why don't you play a nice game of rated-R never have I ever?

→ pairing/rating: jungkook x reader | NC-17

→ genre: 60% crack, 40% angst | apocalypse!au

→ warnings: profanity, depictions of blood, gore and death, sexual innuendos, crude humor

→ wordcount: 6.8k

cr.

You wake with your entire body feeling like it's blazing in a pit of fire. The moment you open your eyes, you wince, the harsh sunlight pouring through the window and chasing away every shadow in the room. It feels like you're in a dream. Everything is so hazy. Colored weirdly. But the excruciating pain in your body screams otherwise. This is reality.

Immediately, Jungkook rushes to your side.

"You're awake! Thank god," he cries. Gingerly, he takes your hands in his and squeezes. "We're all going to get you to the hospital."

You're not in the state to argue, barely even being able to lift your head to nod at his words. If you were in the right state, you would've pointed out the obvious logical flaw in the plan. Risk seven lives for one? Really? But then again, you're in no place to argue. Coherent thoughts are rare now. You can barely remember the date or the month or the year. It all seems like such useless information when you think you're spiraling down to death.

"We need to get her out of bed," Yoongi says, crossing his arm as he leans against the door frame. He glances at you worriedly before biting the inside of his cheek. "And we should leave now so we don't arrive there at night."

The others peek in behind Yoongi, giving you concerned looks while clutching makeshift weapons, which were really dense household objects.

"Here, I'll piggyback her," Jungkook says. "You good with that?" he whispers to you to confirm.

With a delirious smile, you mumble your answer.

Jungkook returns a meek smile before helping you out of bed and hoisting you on his back. "Comfortable?" he grunts as he shifts his hold on your legs

"Mmm," you manage to hum. You're starting to feel tired again, head limp to the side as your eyelids threaten to flutter shut.

"That's it... try to sleep," Seokjin says, reaching over to pat your back. With his other hand, he grasps his favorite fry pan (his choice of weapon) that had gotten sweaty around the handle already.

"Shouldn't we try to keep her awake?" Hoseok counters.

"Too late now," Jimin points out.

You've fallen asleep again. Though it's not a very deep sleep, it helps you forget the overwhelming pain for just a few minutes more.

"I-I don't know," Namjoon says. He nervously carries Jungkook's baseball bat, awkwardly holding it out in front of him—as if he were carrying a repulsive slug and not wielding a weapon. "I don't know if we should let her sleep or keep her awake."

"But you're the only one with enough medical knowledge to determine that!" Taehyung sighs.

"Sometimes, it's just common sense," Namjoon snaps rather crossly. "But even that can't save us now."

The men look helplessly at you sleeping on Jungkook's back.

"We need to stop wasting time," Hoseok finally sighs after the long silence. "We'll be fine, all right. We'll do exactly as planned."

"Wait, we had a plan??" Taehyung asks incredulously.

"Oh, god."

The walk is arduous. The dirt road is much better to travel by vehicle; otherwise, the dust flies up and around everywhere and gets in everyone's shoes and lungs. The group hasn't even reached the city yet, but everyone's irritated already.

You're dipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes being awoken when Jungkook takes a heavier step or when a shock of pain travels across your body. Every time you wake, you wish you'd never opened your eyes.

Your friends are always silent, their eyes trailed straight in front of them. Yoongi occasionally looks at the GPS on his phone, but other than that, the mood is solemn. Too solemn.

Jungkook trails behind the group, obviously being slowed down by the extra weight he's carrying on his back. No one mentions his lagging pace.

But once you catch a weary glimpse of the towering buildings starting to come into perspective, you realize the group is starting to head into the city.

"We need to be very careful," Hoseok warns. "I don't see any of those freaks right now, but—"

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, DUDE?" Jimin shrieks in a high-pitched scream. "THERE'S LIKE TWENTY OF THEM RIGHT THERE!"

The moment he points, a cluster of the brain-dead monsters all turn their heads around to stare at the eight of you. They begin to limp towards the group.

"Great," Seokjin rolls his eyes. "If they didn't know we were here before, they know now."

"No time for sarcasm," Jungkook grunts, adjusting your legs so you don't slide off of his back. "We need to get the hell away!"

"And stay quiet!" Taehyung puts his finger to his lips, staring down Jimin, who's shivering in fear already.

"Okay, okay!"

And everyone sprints off.

The zombies groan in vast numbers, dragging their decaying bodies toward you in hopes of sinking their rotting teeth into your flesh. The team uses the buildings and the shadows to its advantage, dodging in and out of the light to confuse the dull monsters. But staying inside for months without much moving had obliterated everyone's stamina.

Jungkook's sweating so much that you're starting to slide off of his back, slowing him down. The others are panting, out of breath and struggling to continue running for their lives.

"W-We," Namjoon gasps, "h-have to s-stop!"

"A-And what?" Yoongi wheezes. "D-DIE??"

Namjoon lets out a disgruntled noise, but Taehyung interrupts his next words, whispers urgently, "There! We can hide there!"

Sure enough, there's a dark corner that Taehyung's pointing to that looks relatively safe. Everyone quickly looks at each other, gauging expressions, silently calculating the possibility of what had the higher possibility of survival—running or hiding. And with everyone physically exhausted—Jungkook especially struggling—the latter is deemed as the smarter choice. Quickly, the eight of you file into the dark corner, Taehyung leading the way.

The moment the group is out of sight from the zombies, Jungkook lets you slide off of his back. He collapses on the group, panting quietly and letting you lean against his arm. The others stand absolutely still, wiping sweat off their brows but not daring to move their feet.

Ten minutes later, the hoard of zombies begins to limp near the dark corner in which you're hiding. It seems like they'll pass by, too dumb to comprehend where their meals had gone. They don't exactly have the brain capacity to suspect that the humans had, indeed, outsmarted them and had hidden away.

"Just look at 'em, those idiots," Taehyung mutters underneath his breath.

"S-Shut up, Tae." Jimin shakes in fear, biting at his nails. The poor man looks just about ready to cry. "Don't say that. Don't even talk. Just don't, dude."

There's a reason why Jimin never stepped out of the house again after the initial outbreak. He's visibly terrified. And even so, he can't tear his eyes away from watching those monsters, slowly but surely making their way past the dark corner.

"Just a few more steps..." Jungkook whispers to you.

You don't know what he means.

"Just a few more steps and we'll be safe..." he says. "Just a few more—"

"Will you shush??" Jimin shrieks.

The moment he raises his voice, the color drains from his cheeks. Big mistake.

The last few zombies who had been trailing near the back of the hoard pause. They look around. Then, they start to limp towards the dark corner.

Everyone scrambles up, hearts beating wildly in your chests. Jungkook tries to help you on his back again, but when his knees almost give out, Seokjin has to volunteer to carry you instead, much to Jungkook's protests. But with a silent look from Seokjin, Jungkook begrudgingly takes the frying pan from the older man and lets you go.

"Fuck, Jimin, you really had to be that loud?" Jungkook sighs.

Jimin's absolutely frozen, eyes looking back and forth between the group and the zombies that are starting to limp towards them to investigate the signs of life. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he stutters, gripping his t-shirt and shaking his head in disbelief.

Taehyung sighs. "It's okay. We'll just need to run before they get closer," Taehyung quickly says. "Everyone on my count of three, okay?"

No one dares to speak another work, all opting to nod instead.

"One... two..." Taehyung says. He pauses and swallows before whispering: "Three."

And then he's off, running. The zombies roar in surprise. But Taehyung's too fast for them, the other members of the group right behind him and dodging the zombie's grasping mutilated hands. All except—

"Jimin!" Namjoon gasps quietly. "Wait, I swear, he was right behind me but—"

But there's barely time to stop. Seokjin stumbles when Jimin's pleading shrieks and screams echo throughout the dilapidated city. He quickly regains his balance, gripping your legs tighter before sprinting even faster to catch up to Taehyung. Hoseok's covering his ears, while tears stream down Namjoon's face. Jungkook is biting his lip so hard, he's drawing blood. Yoongi's pale as a ghost. Even Taehyung looks shaken, brows furrowing. But he grits his teeth and continues running.

There's no time to mourn, to time to stop. Everything is a blur.

Minutes of running full speed. Minutes of silent tears. Minutes after Jimin's death.

Finally, the group slows down to a normal walking pace when Taehyung points out that the zombies aren't chasing after them anymore.

By this time, you're silently crying—because you're in physical pain or because of Jimin's death—you're not really sure. Jungkook walks by Seokjin, stealing a couple of worried glances at you. But everyone is worried at this state.

"No more wrong moves," Hoseok mumbles. "No more freezing. No more yelling. No more of anything drastic. I don't want to lose another person."

Everyone nods in agreement. And the walk in silence commences.

"Four more hours," Yoongi says. "Just four more left."

It does little to uplift the plummeting spirits.

When the road turns twisty, Taehyung orders everyone to line up behind him, single-file. He'll check to see if the coast is clear. Cautiously, he checks around the bend to see any threats, but turn after turn, there's nothing waiting for the group. After a while, Taehyung gets more and more careless, walking straight around the curve without even checking if the coast was clear beforehand. The rest of the group starts to relax a bit more. It doesn't quite look like there are zombies around in this area of the city.

You're getting more and more delirious by the second, barely able to see what's ahead of you. You've already mistaken Seokjin for Jungkook twice, and Jungkook still doesn't quite know if you fully comprehend that Jimin.... that Jimin's gone.

Namjoons fiddles with the baseball bat and Hoseok just fidgets nervously—never feeling safe out in the open like this.

And the next time Taehyung turns a corner without looking, a zombie jumps out at him. "Oh shit!" he yells. The two of them tumble to the ground, Taehyung wrestling for his life and screaming out vulgar profanities. The rest of the group freezes—still behind the safety of the wall and not yet visible to whatever monsters that were around the corner.

"Go!" Taehyung screams. "There's more coming to get me!"

Not for one second does he look genuinely scared. But everyone else is.

"Go!" Taehyung yells again when he sees the members hesitate, shell-shocked and pained. "I'm serious! I'll be okay!"

He won't be. Not with all the other zombies coming for his neck. But the others aren't left with a choice—it's either run and leave Tae behind... or everyone dies.

Jungkook doesn't have to say it out loud, but his wide eyes shaped with pain, sorrow and regret speak volumes. Taehyung answers him with a wild grin. Everyone else isn't able to meet his eyes as he fights for the last few minutes of his life. And the group runs away again, forced to abandon yet another member.

None of them stops running. It's like an endless workout—except, when you stop, you don't risk getting less of a calorie burn, you risk death. It's tortuous, really. Especially when you realize that you're a burden. Seokjin has to stop running for a few seconds to take in big gulps of air. He looks almost too tired to move on. Unable to fathom another member giving in to death, Hoseok commands Seokjin: "Hey, I'll carry her."

Hoseok's grip on you is strong but unsure at the same time. He's scared that he'll make you feel uncomfortable (more uncomfortable than you already are, given the wrecked circumstances), and consequently, he's making himself feel worried sick too.

The running presumes.

Everyone is too afraid to stop.

Jungkook gives you worried glances from time to time, but he doesn't offer to take you back. Probably because he can't risk it.

Morale is low, but at least the pain tolerance is high. Everything is a hazy blur to you; it's hard to make up your emotions and comprehend your own feelings through the dull pain. Everyone else is too high on adrenaline to digest the happenings. But you wonder when the pain will finally hit.

It feels like a fever dream. That's what it is. Unspeakable tragedies unfolding before you in rapid succession, leaving you no time to react. So you stay limp.

Finally, after who knows how long, Yoongi orders everyone to stop running. The six of you find refuge in another dark corner that comes right before a wider street.

"Three..." Yoongi pants. "T-Three more... h-hours," he manages to say in between hard breaths. Sweat drips from his hair to his forehead but that's obviously the least of his worries now.

"We're going to have to be more careful," Hoseok says, shifting you on his back but never letting you go.

"Well, what do you think we've been trying to do this whole time??" Namjoon says in an irritated voice. The stress, the pressure, the situation is finally getting to him.

"We can't fight now, Joon," Hoseok answers, shaking his head.

It takes a crisis to get to know one; Hoseok's somehow matured since the last life-and-death disaster.

"You're right. You're right, Hoseok," Namjoon sighs, running his hands through his wet hair. "I'm sorry... I'm just—"

"It's all right," Seokjin says, patting his friend's back. "It's okay. We'll get through."

Jungkook nods. "It's only three more hours."

"There's a wide street just around the corner," Yoongi says. "I don't know if it's gonna work to our advantage, though. Wide streets are theoretically safer than narrow streets... But we're going to feel more out in the open."

"At this point, we can only hope that everything's going to our advantage," Namjoon says. "May I look at the map?" Yoongi hands Namjoon his phone wordlessly. Namjoon studies the map as he always tends to study his binder of med school notes. "I see..." he mumbles to himself. His hands fumble around the small Nokia device, fingers sweaty and shaking as he zooms in and out of the map.

"Sorry to say, but studying the map's not going to increase our survival chances," Jungkook sighs. "I think we should keep on going. That's what we've been doing, right? We just have to keep on going."

"Right..." Namjoon sighs. "Sorry—you're right. Sorr—"

Just as he's about to hand Yoongi his device back, the phone slips from his hand. In slow-motion, everyone watches in horror as the phone plummets to the ground. It makes a loud, echoing clatter when it finally hits the cement.

Immediately, Jungkook acts. "We gotta get in that building!" He points to one near the dark corner. "If any zombies were nearby—"

It doesn't become an if when the horrifying groans of the zombies begin to grow near.

Hoseok's shaking; consequently, so are you.

"How will we know that the building's safe inside??" Yoongi says. He doesn't mean to be rude or to burst anyone's bubble, but it's a chilling possibility that the building isn't safe at all.

"We won't," Seokjin quickly says. "But I'd rather take a chance." He bends down and picks up Yoongi's seemingly unbreakable phone and begins to run towards the building with everyone else at his heels.

By now, the zombies are visible to the six of you, which means they can see you as well. There are about fifteen of them (give or take five), and they grow louder and louder when they realize they're going to have a rich feast. The excitement makes them quick. Before you know it, they're hot on your tracks.

Jungkook's the first one to reach the door to the building. Carefully, he tugs on the door handle. Nothing. It won't even budge. Sweat begins to accumulate on his neck as a form of slow panic.

"Fuck! It won't open!" he hisses.

Seokjin shoves him to the side. He tries to open the door. "Damn, it's wedged shut!"

"What do we do?" Namjoon says, his voice shaky. He keeps glancing back at the zombies starting to close in on the group. "Shit, what do we do??"

"Oh, move aside!" Yoongi shrieks. He grabs the door handle with two hands, places a foothold on the wall next to the door and pulls. The door pops open. A wave of relief passes through his face. "Hurry!"

The zombies are closing in quickly. They're almost an arm's reach away.

Hoseok falls into the building first, carrying you to safety. Yoongi's next and then Seokjin, who clutches onto Yoongi's phone as if it's his lifeline (and not his frying pan). Jungkook manages to wack a few zombies away with the frying pan, but when one almost grabs his leg, he throws away his efforts and leaps into the building. Namjoon isn't so lucky. He's the last one trying to get in, but a monster grabs his arm, making him drop the baseball bat. Another grabs his leg. They begin to grasp onto his limbs with their withered, decaying hands. Namjoon tries to scream, but he must have remembered that the zombies are sound sensitive. The louder he is, the more he'll be ripped apart to pieces to share. But the tears brim around his eyes when he realizes he won't ever make it. There are too many to fight off... He looks away.

Hoseok's the one who has to close the door on him.

The next minutes that follow (that feel like hours) are the worst. Everyone can hear the tearing of flesh, the disastrous chomping of organs... It becomes too much. Everyone blocks their ears. Except you. You're forced to sit through it. Unable to react and too pained to really feel anything. The zombies try to hit their heads against the door, but they're too stupid to actually open it. And as quickly as they had come, they leave, figuring that one human out of what had originally been six was enough for now.

Again, the group is devastated. But everyone's too tired to cry.

Hoseok had let you down from his back and you're wearing Jungkook's sweater, but you're still whimpering, though you had no idea that sound was you in the beginning. You shiver when the others are sweating and red in the face. You can barely see ahead of you either.

"She's getting worse," Jungkook says, biting his lip.

"Great. Just great," Hoseok sighs. "No one here knows anything about medicine now."

"...Well, there's always Google," Yoongi says, looking unsure himself. "I mean, if the hospital has a good connection..." He trails off, unable to finish his sentence. "Anyways, I don't hear the zombies anymore. I think we should leave. I'll carry Y/N this time."

"We still have three more hours left," Seokjin says. "Yoongi's right. We should go before it gets too dark."

No one can argue with that.

Maybe the bad luck had run out—after killing off nearly half of the group, misfortune takes pity on the rest of you. Or maybe the ones who were left were careful enough; they've learned from the others' mistakes. Nothing particularly noteworthy happens from the journey out of the building to the hospital. It's a silent journey too. One where there's more silent communicating (with eyes and gestures) than words.

Your cheeks are wet from the sweat on Yoongi's neck, but they look more like the remnants of the tears that had never fallen from your eyes.

Three hours becomes two. Then one... And soon, zero.

The five of you stand in front of the hospital, a bit off to the side to observe the surroundings before even thinking of coming close.

Yoongi curses under his breath after he observes the scene. "There's no way we'll get in there unscathed."

He's right. There are zombies limping about the vicinity—all in medical scrubs and patient gowns. There's something coldly chilling about that sight. It doesn't settle right within anyone.

You're starting to slip past Yoongi's grip and he grunts quietly as he hoists you up again. "Any ideas?" he sighs.

"Yeah," Jungkook answers. "First off, I'll take Y/N." There's a silent switch before you're back on Jungkook's back again. "Second... um, no, I don't have any ideas."

"Just great," Hoseok sighs. "We came all the way here and..." he trails off, afraid to finish what he had started.

"What are we going to do?" Seokjin says. He looks between the group and the hoard of zombies. "We can't just... go back."

"That'd be even crazier," Yoongi scoffs. He wipes the sweat from his neck and pockets his phone. "We lost three friends today to come this far. Do you want to lose three more of us to get back?"

No one answers.

"We have to remain positive," Jungkook says. He bites his lip again, the skin beginning to tear as a result of his constant state of anxiousness. "For Y/N, at least."

"It's never going to work," Hoseok says bluntly.

Seokjin frowns. "Staying positive?"

"No, no," Hoseok sighs. "I mean, we're never going to be able to get inside the hospital... Unless... Well, unless..."

"Unless?" Yoongi questions, raising his eyebrows.

"Unless..." Hoseok is slow, thinking through and through before he speaks. "Unless I distract them," he finally concludes. "You guys can go in while I lead them the other way."

"No..." Jungkook breathes. "You can't do that."

"Hoseok..." Yoongi shakes his head.

"Buddy, it's not time to be a hero now," Seokjin adds to the looks of disapproval.

You have no idea what's going on—too far gone to tell, but the tone of their voices is enough for you to know that the group is sad. The sadness weighs you down too.

"It was nice knowing you guys, really," Hoseok says. He shrugs, but his hands shake in fear. Quickly, he hides them behind his back so no one sees. "But I think it's time that I did some of the dirty work around here."

No one's quick enough to stop him. Before anyone else can react, he runs. He runs toward the crowd of monsters. Immediately, Hoseok captures their attention, and they groan as they begin to follow him away.

The group waits, horrified, scared, worried.

Hoseok never looks back.

And soon, he disappears. Along with the zombies.

There isn't time to waste. Everyone runs toward the hospital, sure that there were no zombies around now. And once inside, you all collapse, nearly on top of each other too.

"Selfless bastard," Yoongi wheezes, tears running down his face.

"If Namjoon were alive, he would've said that was such an oxymoron," Jungkook scoffs, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his hand. "Always the intelligent fool."

"And then Jimin and Taehyung would've told him to shut up," Seokjin says, crying silently. "God, it's all too much to take in..."

Jungkook looks to you, wiping the sweat from your forehead with his sleeve. "It's okay... We're here... We're finally here. Everything went wrong, but we're here now. We're here..."

But it didn't matter whether the group 'was here' when no one knew what to do.

"We don't even know if it's safe to roam around about like this..." Seokjin says. He sighs deeply, looking between you and the empty, blood-splattered halls of the hospital.

"Here," Jungkook whispers, trying to lift the mood. He hands Seokjin his frying pan, to which Seokjin politely declines, shaking his head.

"You wield it better as a weapon than I ever could," he says, giving Jungkook a small smile. "Besides, Y/N's counting on you to help her."

You never ever wanted to become a burden like this.

Jungkook nods silently, taking the frying pan back in his hands and gripping it tightly.

"I-I.... haven't exactly been in a hospital in a while," Yoongi says. "And I especially have no idea how to treat a TSS patient..." He looks at you and bites the inside of his cheek in deep contemplation. "You know what? We'll take our chances. We'll go into a random room, find refuge—again—and look some stuff up... Maybe we'll... manage to get antibiotics? I don't know."

It's not exactly a solid plan, but it's better than staying collapsed on the floor and waiting for disaster to strike once more.

Yoongi stands up, brushing off his pants and stretching his back. "We'll go in that room." He points.

Jungkook helps you on his back again. He trails behind Yoongi and Seokjin, gripping the frying pan and looking from side to side for any threats. He sees none, thankfully.

"We'll go inside first," Seokjin says.

"Just in case...?" Jungkook says.

"Just in case," Yoongi answers.

"You sure you don't want your frying pan back?" Jungkook asks the talented chef one last time.

Seokjin shakes his head. "You might need it more than I do."

There are a million different arguments Jungkook can make, but he stays silent.

"Ready?" Yoongi whispers to Seokjin.

"R-Ready," he replies. They give each other a small smile before they turn the knob of the door.

Jungkook holds his breath when they step in. For seconds, it's silent, and it's peaceful. Jungkook closes his eyes in sheer happiness. Safety. It feels so attainable now.

Yoongi and Seokjin look around the room, small smiles spreading across their faces. Yoongi turns around. "Hey, I think it's saf—"

A zombie leaps out and gashes his neck before he can finish.

Jungkook screams silently, mouth wide open in horror.

The monsters had been hiding. Two more of them leap out, attacking Yoongi and Seokjin with decaying teeth and mangled limbs.

Jungkook begins to step away, still aware that the door was wide open. But he can't move any closer to shut it. Not with you on his back. It's too risky. Tears prickle his eyes.

Yoongi's the first one down. He stops moving and becomes a lump on the floor. Seokjin turns to face Jungkook, eyes wet and face bleeding. Before he falls dead to the ground, he manages to close the open door. Red blood splatters subsequently on the window. Like it was straight out of a horror film. The zombies in the room don't suspect another two beings outside in the hospital halls and they immediately quiet down.

The world spins for Jungkook.

Oh my god.

He can't stop repeating it in his head.

Oh my god. No other words. He couldn't express the pure trepidation and guilt in words anyway.

He doesn't even know if you're still conscious. He almost breaks down right then and there. The tears have blurred his vision significantly, and he can't even hear anything except the incessant ringing in his ears.

I'm... I'm the only one left.

The thought sends chills down Jungkook's spine.

But he's reminded of what he's here to do when you begin to stir lightly on his back.

God. You're still alive. And as long as he's alive, you're going to live. Jungkook squeezes your leg in reassurance (more to reassure himself than you, really) and grits his teeth. He's going to do this. He's going to get you to safety. He's going to stay strong.

He looks at the frying pan in his hands. Seokjin's frying pan.

He fights back the tears. He can't think of the others now. He needs to focus. He's going to do this.

He runs.

Silently.

Quickly.

His heels never touch the ground. Light on his feet, blending into the wind, Jungkook runs. He doesn't exactly know where—he wishes things will work out in the end. And he wishes you were conscious enough to form a plan. He always admired how you could craft one in a crisis. But now you're basically gone, unable to communicate with him. He's on his own.

Jungkook comes across a large cabinet with a lock on it. Possibly a medicine cabinet. Why else would it be locked?

Keeping you on his back, Jungkook fumbles with the lock, trying to figure out how to get it open. He comes up with an idea in two seconds. Maybe panic does help the gears in his brain. He slams the frying pan against the lock so hard that the shatter of it echoes throughout the hospital.

Fuck.

Of course that would've been loud. But no matter now. The lock had broken. Now he has to take whatever looks helpful and run.

He flings the cabinet doors open, hoisting you up on his back again because you'd started to slip off. He grips the frying pan with one hand and begins to shove pills bottles into his pockets. He would've gotten away with more when he hears a sickening groan.

Jungkook whirls around, immediately shielding you away from the danger. You whimper just a little bit. He wants to comfort you; he wants to hug you. But he can't.

It's a zombie.

Its eyes are empty, but Jungkook can tell it only wants one thing: death. It bids death on Jungkook and you. But Jungkook won't allow it.

The monster's sickeningly close to him, and it's trying to back Jungkook into the corner that the medicine cabinet is in. He'll be stuck if the monster takes another step closer. He reacts immediately, flinging the frying pan in the zombie's face. It lets out a deafening shriek—one that sends chills all over Jungkook's body. But he can't freeze. Not now.

With agile speed and what's left of his grace, Jungkook leaps over the zombie writhing on the floor. He feels sharp pain somewhere—he can't discern where. But it doesn't matter. He's too fixated on getting you to safety. Without anymore thinking, he runs.

He runs and runs and runs. Away from the zombie, away from the problems, away from all the deaths of his friends today. He runs away with you.

When he thinks he can't go any further, he slams himself into a room, hoping, wishing that there was nothing inside. His misfortune had run out. The room is empty, safe.

Nearly crying tears of joy, Jungkook lets you down carefully on the hospital bed and dumps the pill bottles out of his pocket and sets them next to you. Then just for a few seconds, he cries.

He cries out of relief, out of genuine sadness, out of fear, out of an overwhelming sense of gladness. He cries even harder when you slowly but surely move your warm hand to encompass his.

That's when he notices the blood.

That's when he notices he'd been bitten. It had bitten him. That had been the searing pain that he had felt earlier. Jungkook backs away from you, disgusted and horrified with himself.

The thoughts follow in chronological order.

He'll drop dead soon—he doesn't know when, but he does know he can't in front of you.

When he wakes, he'll be undead.

Then... then... he'll try to attack you—if... if you're still alive by then.

He can't allow it.

Jungkook knows he has to leave.

But... He looks at you. You're dipping in and out of consciousness.

"I have to go, Y/N..." He can't recognize his own voice. It's too shaky, too unsure and laced with too much anxiety to be his own.

You stir, eyes fluttering open. You plead silently for him to stay.

"I-I... I can't, Y/N. I want to but I can't."

"P-Please..." you whisper so quietly that Jungkook barely hears you.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook shakes his head, wiping the last of his tears with his unbitten hand. He hides the other away from view. "I can't stay with you, Y/N," he says more surely. "I have to leave."

Then, you say the most coherent thing you've spoken all day. "St-Stay with m-me... I-I'm... I'll d-die... anyway."

Carefully, Jungkook steps closer to you. So close your foreheads touch. He hugs you. And the action is interlaced with so much love, so much care and consideration that you can't protest when he begins to step away. It's too soon.

You wish you could've been in his arms for longer. You wish you could die in his arms.

But Jungkook knows... He knows that once you're in his arms for too long, he'll never be able to find the strength to let you go. And that'd be a disaster for everybody.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again.

You don't want him to leave.

But Jungkook doesn't want you to see him turned. He doesn't want to be the one who turns you too. He can't stand being in the same room as you, knowing that he's become a threat. He has to leave.

It makes sense.

Both of you are going to die anyway.

You reach for him, but his back is turned to you. And without another look, Jungkook bites his lip before walking out of the room. He shuts the door behind him and begins to weep against it, sliding down to the floor in a weak, defeated lump.

"J-Jungkook—"

You reach for him again, tumbling out of the bed as a result. The bottles of pills clatter to the floor. You don't care. You drag yourself against the door with the last of your strength. The world spins with you. And you feel so weak...

Jungkook rests his head against the door. His hand begins to throb with excruciating pain. He doesn't want to wake up... He feels too weak to finish the thought.

You cry against the door, tears running down your face. Your hands try to reach the door handle, to open it, to reach Jungkook, but it physically hurts to do so. Everything hurts. The world is on fire.

Jungkook's world is just the same.

An uncomfortable flame is eating him from the inside. He wants the pain to end. He wants everything to end.

And it does.

Finally, finally, his wishes come true. He falls dead, head lolling to the side.

And you're long gone as well.

✽

You gasp awake.

You've awakened in hell.

Well, not exactly.

Your whole body feels as if it's on fire, but you're not in the hospital. You're not dirty nor are you bloody. You're in Yoongi's room, in bed.

But now the covers are on the ground because you'd had a fit in your dreams.

A dream.

A fucking fever dream.

That's what it had been.

Well, a nightmare, really.

A painful foreshadowing, maybe.

A vivid recollection of your worst fear.

Your head spins, and you fight the urge to throw up.

Outside the confines of Yoongi's room, you can hear the other men getting ready to leave. Your heart drops.

No.

You're not going to let them leave with you.

You refuse to become a burden, to become some sort of torch they pass along with great care, sacrificing their lives to keep you safe.

They'll all die because of you.

And you can't allow that.

Maybe if you run away—

Maybe they'll forget about you and no one will get hurt because of you.

You try to move, try to lift yourself on your feet, but it turns out to be a big mistake. You stumble, unable to balance yourself, and you fall off the bed, hitting the ground.

The thump! is loud enough for Jungkook and Namjoon to rush into the room.

"No! No! Go away! No!" you're shrieking, squeezing your eyes shut and gluing yourself to the floor, refusing to move.

They're taken aback.

"Y/N, Y/N..." Jungkook soothes you, dropping to his knees and trying to help you up to the bed again. After struggling for a bit, you let him carry you—when it becomes clear that he's not going to force you out of the room.

"You'll be fine," Jungkook whispers. He strokes your hair, holding your hands with tears brimming in his eyes. It reminds you too much of your dream. You want to look away, but you can't. "Y-You'll... Y/N, you'll be fine."

Jungkook and Namjoon exchange knowing, painful looks. Even in your barely conscious state, you suddenly understand.

You realize then that you'll die here. And the others have accepted it.

It hurts to think that they're giving up on you. But at the same time, you'd rather they give up than risk their lives to save you.

Jungkook continues to hold you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. "I'm sorry," he keeps repeating. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

When Namjoon opens the door to the room, the others spill in. They tell you their parting words. But you can barely comprehend them. Relief floods through you, however. It makes you feel better that they're okay—that they're alive.

And soon, it's just you and Jungkook. Alone in the room. Just like your dream.

He won't stop apologizing. You manage to shake your head, attempting to give him a smile. It comes out forced. "No... I-It wasn't... It wasn't y-your f-fau...lt." You pause to take deep breaths. "Y-You..." you reach out to take Jungkook's other hand. It relieves you to see no blood. "You d-did... good."

The tears dribble down to the tip of his chin, and they fall down when he manages to smile back at you. "Y-You m-mean... You mean I did well."

You're half-crying, half-laughing, just like he is. Everything becomes less painful like this. It's better to go this way than to be separated by a door. It's better than what you had imagined.

"You did well, Y/N. You did so well," Jungkook repeats over and over again. He holds you in his arms tighter than ever.

You've always wanted to die in his arms.

You lose consciousness feeling safe and happy.

"You're never going to beat me," Jungkook snorts, swinging his baseball bat over his head.

You laugh, shoving the boy aside. "Watch me, then."

"Gladly."

It's baseball day. You and your seven other friends have gathered outside in the warm sunlight, ready to play ball as you and Jungkook had always hoped. Although it's a significantly modified (cough, simplified) version of baseball, it doesn't matter to you. There are no monsters, no blood, no death—just happiness.

Seokjin's polishing his frying pan off to the side, Jimin's wiping the dust off of his officer badge, Namjoon's studying from his binder, Taehyung's video-chatting with his dogs (don't ask), Hoseok's stirring up his best business plans and Yoongi's dozed off while standing.

It's perfect. A perfect world.

"I'll pitch," Jungkook tells you, tipping his baseball cap at you before giving you a handsome grin. "Careful, though. I'm not going easy on you."

You grin right back. "You don't have to. But if you want to keep your ego intact, I'll go easy on you."

"No need to," Jungkook laughs. "Just don't come crying to me when I beat your ass."

You snort. "I don't know, Jungkook, sounds a bit like you're dragging this on so you won't have to cry over an embarrassing loss."

"Oh, really? Okay, then. I'm going to pitch right now."

"Do it, then."

"I'm going to!"

He does, hurling the ball with all of his might but also with calculated precision.

The world around you blurs. All you can see is the ball hurtling towards you. And though you're not very imaginative, you envision the ball to be that sexist baseball coach you had years back; you envision the ball to be an ugly, aggressive zombie; you envision the ball to be death, unhappiness and regret.

You scream like a warrior going into battle when you hit the ball. The angle is just right, the strength is perfectly calculated. The ball flies up in the air—no doubt, a home run. You don't even have to run the bases to see that.

Jungkook's grinning—almost as if he expected you to make such a spectacular hit. He looks at you with adoration, with pride, with love. "That's my girl."

"I know! I'm amazing!" You grin too.

The world has never felt this perfect.

—part 1 | part 2

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts #ignis fatuus #the shorter and more depressing sister of part 1 #i hope yall don't come at me for this

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kimamanitranslate · 4 years ago

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Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 1-3

Haruhara has uploaded some extra commentary and sketches for some chapters in Senyuu F5 and Senyuu+. I include the images in these articles only if (a) they’re free to view, or (b) they have content to be scanlated- otherwise, I only include a text description of them.

Please do not repost the text and/or scanlations here to another website, especially Twitter as that’s where Haruhara is. (Feel free to discuss the contents of these posts wherever though.)

And please consider purchasing the raws if you enjoy any of the content here!

This post translates the articles for F5 Ch. 1, 2, and 3.

List of all commentaries:

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 1-3

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 11-17

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 18-32

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 43-45

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 46-53

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 54-60

Haruhara’s Chapter Commentaries: Senyuu F5 Ch. 61-67

The Commentaries section of the Senyuu online reader (kimamanitranslate.tumblr.com/senyuu#commentary) should also have an up-to-date list of all current chapter commentaries.

Note: No chapter commentaries exist for Ch. 4-10 and Ch. 33-42.

Senyuu F5: Chapter 1

Raw: ch.nicovideo.jp/haruhara-ch/blomaga/ar1736317

My first new series in four years, Senyuu Reload, has begun. It tells the tale of what happens to Alba and the others after the end. I began thinking of the story while writing Senyuu+.

Everyone, please journey along with Alba and the others!

Since I’m drawing Reload as a normal paneled manga on a normal manuscript-sized paper, I’d love to have it in a proper volume someday.

[Image: A high-quality, coloured version of the below (taken from F5 Ch. 1)]

I redraw this scene to be new and fresh. Since I might as well, I’ve uploaded a big colour version here.

I want to make can badges someday.

Senyuu F5: Chapter 2

Raw: ch.nicovideo.jp/haruhara-ch/blomaga/ar1745538

At first I planned for them to meet in a town, but when I drew them facing off in town, I thought, If I put them in a forest, won’t it look like that panel in Yu Yu Hakusho? and let my personal tastes go wild.

Senyuu F5: Chapter 3

Raw: ch.nicovideo.jp/haruhara-ch/blomaga/ar1745545

This was the first battle scene I’d drawn in a while, so it was a little embarrassing handing over a serious storyboard to the editor I’d given nothing but Senyuu+ gag plots for the past four years. It felt like showing a manga I actually put effort into to classmates I always just joked around with.

Lolo Fry Mitts. His name has no real inspiration. When I decide on Western names, I either pick random German or English words or choose whatever sounds good to me. His name was just something that sounded good to me.

When I choose based on what sounds good to me, names tend to get influenced by my own tastes, so the probability of stretched-out sounds in the name increases. (Like with Alba Paulred). I think this is because my favourite Western name is Tifa Lockhart.

(T/N: In Japanese, all of these names include a dash (ー) that indicates a stretched sound.)

Tifa Lockhart really does have a good ring to it. In terms of personality, I prefer Yuffie Kisaragi though.

As with manga drawn for a magazine, I draw Senyuu F5 panels on a large canvas, then my editor trims it a little before publication. The whole thing including the entire outer frame looks like this:

(T/N: I included the F5 version as well for easy comparison)

Try comparing them!

[Image: Natsu snapping Teiba’s leg in two at his ankle]

For this scene, I originally intended for Lolo’s leg to be blown off instead of just broken, but I decided that even Lolo wouldn’t be able to stand with a leg blown off, so I let him off with just a broken one... though a normal person wouldn’t be able to stand on a broken leg either.

[Image: Rough doodle of DakiKaba with brown hair and Natsu with red eyes and black hair]

Here’s a doodle I did on the edge of my storyboard.

#senyuu #senyu #senyuu spoilers

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years ago

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KICKS (part one)

Roger visits the seediest shop in London in search of a kinky Valentine’s day gift for his girlfriend. He thinks he’s a great lay and he thinks he’s seen it all. He’s also dating one of the sexiest women in the country. It should be a recipe for sexual heaven for Roger, but he soon realises he has a lot to learn, and he keeps coming back to Kicks for more than just the odd ball gag or leather collar!

Warnings: Strong D/s themes later on. STRICTLY 18+. Notes: I said I’d post this in one go, but I lied. I’m gonna post it in parts because I love it. As always, feedback is much appreciated. If you like this, then please, for the love of all that is holy, reblog it (I am begging)! And if you’d like to be tagged, please just send me a message. Thanks for reading!

Tag list: @jennyggggrrr @sarahgurl09 @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy @brianssixpence @hellohellothere12

Valentine’s day was always hectic at Kicks, despite the locals being loathed to admit that they satisfied their fiendish fancies there – even for a few days of the year.

And for you, it meant working overtime to guarantee that the merchandise looked as tantalising as ever. It gave you the chance to let your creativity run wild, but you couldn’t go overboard with latex-clad, strap-on wearing mannequins in the front window. After all, the locals were still prudes.

While you were busy in the stockroom, filling a box of dildos for distribution, the bell above the front door chimed. It was a Wednesday evening. Things were winding down for the day. And you had assumed you’d be undisturbed until closing time.

Evidently not.

Your eyes rolled. “I’ll be through in a minute!”

“No need, take your time!”

When the cardboard box at your feet was brimming with rubber dongs and silicone schlongs, you hauled it up into your arms. But, you instantly bemoaned the decision to pile it so high that your arms buckled and you could barely peer over the top of your haul as you made your way back on to the shop floor. All you could see was a tuft of blonde hair lingering around the section of the store that housed every restraint under the sun.

“Are you alright?” the customer asked, scurrying into view.

You dumped the box on the cash desk and huffed, planting your hands on your hips. “Yep, yep, just fine. Just overextended myself.”

You turned to the customer to see a childish smirk peeking from the corners of his mouth. He was dying to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. After all, he had partied with strippers, witnessed wild drug-fuelled orgies and all kinds of debauchery. But here he was, like a naughty teenager in a sweetshop. Roger had never, ever, been in one of these kinds of shops before.

“Can I help you, handsome?” you pressed.

Roger snapped back to reality with a look of faux seriousness. His hand crept beneath the collar of his half-buttoned shirt to press against the curve between his neck and his shoulder. “Oh, yes. Yes. I’m… I’m looking for something to maybe tie my girlfriend up or something. For Valentine’s day, you know? Show her a good time.”

You found his meek facade quite endearing. Most customers had that look about them, but somehow, you expected more from the gregarious drummer of a rock and roll band. “Well,” you began, flinging out your arms. “You’ve come to the right place.”

Roger responded by diverting his gaze to his feet with an eye-crinkling smile.

You emerged from behind the cash desk and gave Roger’s arm a light slap. “Come on over and I’ll show you some of my wares.”

He trailed behind you like a shy little puppy, fumbling his hands in front of his body. “We haven’t really tried this before so I don’t know…”

“That’s ok,” you said, eyeing the wall of restraints for something to show him. You knew full well that Betsy Bright, darling of the Pirelli Calendar, coupled with Queen’s most desirable member, were destined for dirty escapades in the bedroom – even if they hadn’t got around to it yet. And they had to start somewhere.

“W-what about these? These look nice,” Roger mumbled. He held up a set of heavy-duty leather ankle and wrist cuffs for you to inspect.

“How does your girlfriend feel about all of this?” you asked.

“I don’t really know. Honestly, this was just a whim. I’ve already got her some nice knickers. Fred’s been in a couple of times. Joked that I might find something in here.”

That was a typical man response that you’d probably hear a thousand times throughout the Valentine’s frenzy and the annoyance you felt was palpable. Roger edged the cuffs back on to the display.

“Yeah, those might freak her out,” you remarked. “That’s like gifting a virgin a 14-inch dildo and no lube, and telling them to take it in ten minutes.”

“Noted.”

“Why don’t you start…” you said, trailing your hand over the display until you found what you were looking for. “With these?” You held up a set of satin straps for Roger to gaze at. “Much less intimidating. Really versatile. And they come in all kinds of colours.”

Roger took them and allowed the material to fall through his fingertips. “These are nice,” he said, dipping into the bag of department store goodies that hung from his wrist. When he lifted his hand, a whisper-thin, bottle green g-string dangled from his index finger. “Got any to match this?”

“Betsy Bright’s gonna look fantastic in those,” you said, handing him another set of straps.

He couldn’t meet your gaze and the flush of pink that spread from his chest to his jaw gave away even more of his embarrassment. “I hope so,” he said quietly.

“I can throw in a blindfold and a nice little scarf gag for an extra tenner if you want?”

Roger’s eyes were elsewhere; they darted around his surroundings with a coy curiosity. “That sounds great.”

“Do you want me to ring these up for you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, trailing behind you.

You could feel Roger’s eyes on you as you rang his kinky starter pack through the till and bagged them up for him. Every time you moved, his eyes moved with you. But when you looked up, he quickly looked away, towards the box of dildos beside you. “That’s twenty quid please,” you said, handing him his bag.

He gave you the money from his shaking hand and returned his eyes to the box. Intrigue got the better of him and made him pick up the biggest toy in there. He marvelled at it, turning it in his hand.

“Think you could manage it?” you smirked.

His face reddened again. “Oh, I’m… I’m just… could anyone?”

You nodded slowly with your eyes bulging from your head and a scowl on your lips.

“I’d hate to be the poor woman whose undercarriage gets wrecked by that,” he mused. “How could anyone… Look! I can’t even get my hand around it.”

“Patience and a lot of lube.”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he looked at you again. “Have you? How did you… what?”

You giggled. “No! God no. But it’s possible. I think you’re curious, now though, aren’t you? I reckon you could take that if you really stretched yourself.”

The dildo was dumped back in the box in protest. “No,” he whispered, furiously shaking his head.

“I think you’re more interested than you’re letting on, but that’s alright. I won’t tell.”

“I’ll stick to sticking my dick in things. Rather than having things stuck in me. If that’s alright.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Whatever tickles your pickle!”

“I’m a great lay by the way. I’m just throwing that out there.”

A sarcastic chuckle escaped your lips. “Bet you’ve never found the g-spot.”

Roger leaned on the cash desk, screwing up his beautiful features, eager for you to impart your wisdom. “Sorry, what?”

One week later…

Rounding the corner, the morning sun sparked a blazing path before you. Beautiful, boring shopfronts blurred past you as your speedometer approached 60. Double the speed limit, but opening time was drawing closer by the second.

Never in your time at Kicks had you been late. And you weren’t going to let that happen today.

Turning the throttle, the needle spiked at 70, and then steadily eased as the shop came into view.

When your bike came to a stop opposite the shop, you hesitated for a moment, thanking your lucky stars you decided to don a visor that day. A customer paced back and forth, but you couldn’t see their face from that far away. It was rare to find customers pounding the pavement, waiting for the doors to open. Rarer still when that customer turned out to be Roger Taylor – again.

Whipping off your helmet and crossing the street, you caught Roger’s eye. Stopped in his tracks, he struggled to fight back a broad grin. And the way his eyes strayed.

You didn’t look at him when you slipped your key into the lock. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite customer! How’d Miss Pirelli get on? She like getting tied up?” You pushed the door open and switched on the lights. Roger followed.

“I’m not sure,” he said, scratching at the undersides of his arms as he wandered into the middle of the shop – and tried not to touch anything.

Weaving in and out of the group of catsuit-clad mannequins in the front window, you stopped and narrowed your eyes at Roger. “What do you mean: you’re not sure?” you asked, pulling up the blinds. “Don’t you talk?”

“Sure, as soon as I’ve spaffed my load down her tits and we’re lying there all sweaty and exhausted, I just... just turn to her and ask,” he paused, lowering his voice and pressing his hand to the side of his mouth, “darling did you like those silk ties and how was the little feather duster I tickled your fanny with? Sure!”

You shook your head and wandered over to Roger. “So you don’t do a thorough post-match analysis? How on earth do you communicate? Jesus Christ, Roger!”

“I think she liked it! Ok?”

“So you’re back for that monster cock you saw last week?” you asked with fake glee.

Roger crossed his arms and jutted out his hip. “No, actually.” As quickly as his face clouded over with indignation, it dropped even more into a serious gaze. “I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

You seemed to understand that this was unusual for Roger and that he wasn’t exactly used to opening up like this. “Coffee?”

He perked up ever so slightly, his arms dropping down by his sides. “Coffee.”

Roger followed you on your way into the back room, but he lingered just at the door and watched you make the coffee.

“I’ve got some chocolate digestives if you want some. You know, in case you need to eat your feelings,” you joked.

“Wouldn’t say no,” he laughed. “I don’t think I’m quite at that point just yet.”

“Right,” you began, thrusting Roger’s coffee into his hand on your road back to the shop floor. “Tell me all of your woes, drummer boy.”

You and Roger hauled yourselves on to stools on opposite sides of the cash desk. He looked down, staring into the cup in his hands. And then he looked up. “Actually I think I will have a biccy, please.”

Without a word, you plucked a single chocolate digestive from the packet and slid it towards him like a seedy bartender. But you kept your finger on it when he tried to take it.

He shot you a frustrated glare.

“A moment on the lips and all that,” you quipped, “I’ll give you this if you tell me what’s bugging you.”

Roger puffed out his cheeks and maintained eye contact with you – he looked like he was begging, but you wouldn’t budge even with his fingers planted on the outer edges of the now melting chocolate biscuit.

“Come on. That layer of chocolate’ll be long gone before you’ve ‘fessed up!”

“This is weird, talking to someone I don’t even know about it.”

You shrugged. “I sell naughty tapes to sweaty old men and rubber dolls to greaseballs with bad breath – and I have to smile about it. Trust me, this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s going to happen to me today. Spill the beans.”

Roger tilted his head to the side with a coy smile. He wasn’t sure where to begin or how to verbalise his feelings on the matter. “Ok. So last week went well. I think she liked it. And I think she wants more of that but…” Roger trailed off. His eyes darted in the air as if he was reading from a script he had tried to commit to memory. But he was lost.

“Right, eat that,” you instructed, letting go of the biscuit.

Roger took it, dunked it in his coffee and took a bite. “It’s just,” he began through his mouthful, “it didn’t feel right for me.”

Even if you hadn’t the foggiest idea what Roger meant by that, you still made a good show of pretending that you did, nodding and dishing out an understanding, “Ah, I get you. Takes a bit of getting used to.”

Roger was dunking the other half of his biscuit when he continued. “I just didn’t feel comfortable with it, you know? I like sex. Love sex. But I felt like I’d rather have all of that done to me. And it just gets really tiring when she expects me to… perform... all the time. She wants me to pull her hair and put my hands around her neck… spank her. And I don’t know how to feel about that.” Roger finished pouring his heart out by lifting his biscuit out of his mug. It was sodden and fell apart upon removal, much to Roger’s disdain. “Well, that’s my coffee ruined.” He looked back up at you. “So yeah.”

“Have you tried – I don’t know – telling her this?”

“I did, but she was kind of dismissive about it. She told me it’s no big deal. But I’m intrigued. I want that… but for me.”

“Well, you need to figure out if it’s a crucial part of your relationship. Are you serious with Betsy?”

Roger shrugged. “She’s fun to look at, and she’s always, you know, up for it. But it’d be nice to let go for a bit. I’m not even sure how I’d feel about doling out any of the rougher stuff that she wants to try. Plus she’s a bit of a bimbo, you know?” he added, cupping his hands around a pair of imaginary breasts on his chest. “Not much going on in the brain.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that last bit and just tell you how it is,” you stated. “So. The way I see it is you’ve got two – maybe three – problems here,” you announced, sitting up straight. “Number one: the Venn diagram between your kinks and your girlfriend’s kinks don’t really align. She expects you to be just as savvy and into it as she is, and I’m gonna hazard a guess here, you haven’t been as adventurous as she has. Sound right?”

“Right,” Roger nodded enthusiastically.

“Number two: you’re apprehensive because you’re not as savvy as you thought you were. You’re not comfortable diving into all the debauchery she wants, because you’ve still got much to learn.”

“Yep.”

“And third: I think you’d rather be submissive in bed.”

Roger thought about that final point for a moment. His brow furrowed as he took a sip of his coffee.

“I think I’ve nailed it,” you said.

“I think you have. Maybe.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Roger’s eyes lightened. “I’m going to need to have a long, hard think about that one, aren’t I?”

“You’re damn right you do.”

NEXT PART >>

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen #queen imagine #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x you #queen x you #roger taylor fanfic #please validate me

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noneatnonedotcom · 5 years ago

Text

Wait. Am I The Winner? (sequel to wait are we the baddies)

this was all done useing dice rolls and is based off of a quest on space battles. everything you are about to read was random chance that i gave flavor to

Jaune base stats: 2.62 (limit break 4.19 stat difference=+60) Pyrrha base stats: 2.62

Shielding for jaune =2779 (alright so maybe a bit more than normal) armor 295 (a bit more manageable)

Shielding for pyrrha=253

Jaune rolls: 1d100+10 (two-handed weapon)

Pyrrha rolls: 1d100 Off hand 1d100+10 (sheild)

The third match between Pyrrha and jaune would take place in the vale arena, much like minstrel vale also prized it’s fighters though in recent years Pyrrha had taken much of the attention away from their more homegrown champions. But one man had changed that.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT’S TIME FOR THE MOMENT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!”

The roar of the crowd was defining, there was more than just blood on the line here. This was the two best of their generation one representing minstrel and the other vale. National pride was on the line and whether the fighters had been informed or not the losers country would be dealing with an influx of Grimm from all the negativity they’d be generating.

Minstrel couldn’t afford that. Not in its current state and so Pyrrha had no choice but to win.

But jaune couldn’t afford to lose either.

“IN THIS CORNER REPRESENTING THE KINGDOM OF VALE, MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE COUNT OF PATCH, THE KNIGHT OF VALE, THE BIG BAD WOLF OF SIGNAL!”

The vale half of the audience went wild. But jaune’s ears picked out his girls easily, his aura enhanced senses cutting through the noise. To focus on them

That’s why he had to win, winning meant power, power could be used to gain whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was to make a better world for everyone. It was his duty as not only the last descendant of the royal line of vale.

“JAUNE ARRRRRRRRC!” But as jaune arc, lover and boyfriend to both ruby rose and yang xiao-long. So long as he was fighting for them he’d win.

He had to.

“AND IN THIS CORNER, REPRESENTING MINSTREL, THE INVINCIBLE GIRL! PYRRHA NIKKOS!”

Both fighters came out to the octagon armor on their bodies and weapons in hand.

Jaune carried eternal luminosity, a lance forged to act as a replacement weapon to crocea mors. It was a fine weapon, ruby had made it for him. Though in reality, it was more of a banner than anything else. The weapon folded out into a deployable banner woven with gravity dust. Useful when he wanted to make a statement and force others to kneel before him.

It had come up a few times in his fights against the organized crime of vale.

The real advantage was that it was highly visible. Making giving orders on a chaotic battlefield just that much easier.

The same was the case with his armor, custos solis. Made with yang in mind, and named accordingly. It was a vibrant set of armor, made up of golds, dark blues, and whites. It’s advantage so far had been that it hid his true power. His semblance having expanded his aura pool into the three-millions at this point. And there was still room to grow.

Without the armor, he’d seem utterly invincible and that’s the main reason why he wore it and compressed his aura as much as he physically could. It tricked the sensors at the very least. When he was ready he’d show the world his true power. But he needed just a little more time.

His third weapon lay on his hip, blackthorn, a sword forged of the purest hard light dust he could find. It wasn’t quite ready yet. He’d been told the purification of the metal had not been completed so it’s true power was diminished, never the less it was an exceptionally powerful tool. If somewhat costly in terms of aura usage. The thing would drain a normal person dry in a matter of seconds.

Jaune could use it all day and never get tired.

“AND NOW, WITH BOTH FIGHTERS READY LET’S SEE IT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY! LET THE FIGHT COMMENCE!”

Roll 1

Jaune: 64+10= 74 Pyrrha: 100 (Pyrrha came for fucking play!” +20=120

Jaune takes 46 damage

Jaune armor reduced to 249

She was on him immediately, her form perfect, her spear striking him from all over, though his armor took the brunt of the assault. He tried to fight back but she was like water bouncing on the balls of her feet jabbing him with her spear like a boxer.

He was sure that a normal fighter would be unable to mount a defense against her but jaune did mitigate the damage she was able to inflict with his own footwork, waiting for the opportunity to strike

Roll2 Jaune: 18+10=28 Pyrrha: 92 (get that weak shit outta here jaune, you’re fighting the champ!)

Jaune takes 64 damage

Armor= 185

She upped her game then, moving faster and fire in her eyes focusing into a single point, she was here to beat him, utterly. Perhaps to show him the power of friendship after their last fight, perhaps simply because her kingdom depended on her. It didn’t matter she had landed blow after blow, jaune needed to do something

Roll 3 Jaune: 94+10= 104 Pyrrha: 80 Offhand: 17+10

Pyrrha takes 24 damage

Shield reduced to 226

THERE!

Jaune saw an opportunity and for the first time since their last fight, the people of the world saw the invincible girl take a blow. Not a major one, but solid as her aura flashed to protect her. Under his helmet jaune sensed the aura she’d used, it was strong. Perhaps one of the stronger ones he’d ever felt. Even in comparison to qrow. But nothing more than a drop in the ocean to him

She was on him again in an instant

Roll 3

Jaune:18+10=28 Pyrrha:45 Jaune takes 17 damage Armor =168

Jaune becomes annoyed activates dust tattoos +20 to combat rolls

And she was somehow faster and stronger than before, gritting his teeth jaune pushed his aura into the dust based tattoos on his body, an unimaginable pain flowed through him but he pushed through using the extra power to thrust into Pyrrha

Roll 4

Jaune: 81+30= 111 Pyrrha: 42 Offhand: 69 (of course can’t have a jaune fight without this (._.) )+10= 79

Pyrrha takes 32 damage, jaune’s armor is removed for the rest of the fight due to 69 roll Pyrrha takes a -25 to rolls due to distraction

Pyrrha’s shielding= 194

The blow landed but to Pyrrha’s credit she managed to bring her shield against him as he hit her. The crowd went wild for some reason but jaune didn’t pay attention to them. Only to the red-faced Pyrrha in front of him. He went after her again”

Roll 5 Jaune:69 (WTF JAUNE!) +30=99 Pyrrha:93-25=68 Offhand: 90+10-25=75

Pyrrha takes 24 damage armor destroyed by the force of jaune’s blow. Jaune takes -20 from distraction, Pyrrha takes -10 from embarrassment

Pyrrha’s shield =170 She wasn’t ready for it for some reason and when the blow connected it hit one of the straps holding up her armor, jaune cursed his luck as the beautiful redhead was stripped naked before him only her boots and weapons to cover her. Trying to shake off the distraction jaune went after her again as the crowd went crazier!

Roll 6 Jaune:75+10= 85 Pyrrha:90-35= 55 Off hand:61-25= 36

Pyrrha takes 30 damage, pyrrha has had enough! Activates semblance +50 to rolls -50 to jaune’s rolls Pyrrha’s shield = 140

The blow struck well as the beautiful woman seemed more concerned with covering herself from the looks of the crowd than from his weapon. He felt bad, he really did but this was for the good of everyone. And she was a warrior she’d understand.

There was no gender on the battlefield

Apparently she agreed because she suddenly glowed with power moving faster than he could track while he felt somehow slower just by watching.

By this point, they were little more than blurs to most people and her nakedness was forgotten in favor of raw aggression!

Roll 7

Jaune:30-40=-10 Pyrrha:74+15=89 Jaune takes 99 damage Jaune’s sheild=2680

A blow that would fell lesser men slammed into him. His eyes unfocused as the flash of his own aura blinded him. He had no time to react to the now greater pain coursing through his body from both inside and outside as she rained down blow after blow on him the crowd having grown silent with awe watching the two pinnacles of humanity battling it out in the arena

Roll 8 Jaune:85-40=45 pyrrha:75+15=90

Jaune takes 45 damage

Jaune’s sheild= 2635

More and more blows hammered into him and he was being pushed back even if he was finally starting to get his guard up it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough to fight this goddess on the battlefield

.Roll 9 Jaune:14-40=-26 pyrrha:41+15=56

Jaune takes 82 damage

Jaune’s shield= 2553

Jaune’s angry activates limit break +60 to rolls stat difference

Was this the end? No one could doubt his power as blows that shook the stadium hammered into him both combatants were beyond human, the crowd could see it but for all of jaune’s raw power, it was no match for the skill of the invincible girl. Even so, they felt honored to be able to see this fight. Neither had ever been pushed this far before and even veteran huntsmen were shocked at the levels of power on display.

Jaune’s eyes snapped open, the wolf of signal, that animalistic part of his brain that couldn’t accept defeat that kept going no matter what the cost to himself, equal parts pride and protectiveness. genius, and stupidity.

That’s what looked at Pyrrha when those deep blue eyes opened. And Pyrrha felt small for a moment, the entire world felt small looking at the unrestrained power coming from the boy

This was the apex hunter, the thing that even the Grimm learned to fear.

This was the big bad wolf of signal and he howled his rage as he rushed her his lance thrown aside in the madness his pain brought on. His fist flying for her head

Roll 10

Jaune:1+20=21 (alright not the best way to show off your next to final powerup) Pyrrha:25+15=40

Jaune takes 19 damage

Jaune’s shield =2534

Jaune throws away his lance, draws blackthorn +25 to rolls

Mussels tore as fast as they healed as jaune no longer limited himself by how much pain he was willing to endure and the force from his punch cratered the ground where pyrrha was but a second ago.

Ultimate power vs ultimate skill

The invincible girl vs the apex predator

For a moment skill seemed to win out as she danced around the raging monster his wild swings destroying the arena as he missed. Inching closer and closer to his prey mindless of the damage and pain he was inflicting on himself, his mad howls echoing in the now stunned silent arena

And then she landed and blow

One big enough to snap jaune back to himself and for a moment he simply stood there, his mussels twitching finally aware that Pyrrha had stripped him as well at some point.

The pinnacles of humanity stared each other down nothing between them, perfection for the world to see. The audience held their breath and

Jaune started to laugh

He laughed and laughed seemingly amused at the situation

“Alright Pyrrha, I admit it, you’re more skilled then I think I’ll ever be, you’ve done it you’ve mastered yourself to a point beyond human limits.” he stalked forward and something about the confidence in him made the women (and some men) swoon at the sight.

“You’ve earned a reward,” he said as he picked up the sword that had fallen off him earlier in the fight “something that I’ve never had to do for anyone else, of course, you’ve already seen more of me than I’ve shown to anyone other than my girlfriends so that question is what to show you now,” he said with a wink and a smirk

His eyes grew dark as his sword glowed with golden beauty. A smile like the bared teeth of a predator shown almost as brightly

“Let me show you what true power looks like!”

And they were on each other again. Perfection in motion as far as the audience was concerned. A golden blade fought against the invincible girl and eventually there was only flashes of color as they danced around the arena until finally

The two stopped fighting mid-swing as the alarm signaling the aura of Pyrrha had dipped below 25%

Could she have won if this were a real battle? perhaps, perhaps not. All that could be said in this moment was that the battle was over. Jaune calmly re-sheathed his sword and picked up his lance. The two combatants shook hands both smiling though jaune’s seemed more a smirk

And then they walked out leaving the stunned audience to collect themselves.

It was five minutes before anyone had the presence of mind to cheer

It would be two hours till they stopped.

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In the back room Pyrrha smiled as she listened to her friends gush about the fight, yes it truly was something she supposed. The main difference between jaune and her was the amount of aura they could bring to bear, she would have to look into being more efficient in the future. But later, she wanted to spend time with her friends.

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In the back room jaune coughed up blood as his abused body and soul finally gave in, he struggled not to cry in pain as it felt like his body was being ripped apart from the inside. There was a price for power, always. He could reach levels of strength that none could match but it didn’t mean he could survive using those powers. His anguish was lessened as ruby placed his head in her lap and yang gently rubbed his back

He passed out shortly after.

He wouldn’t wake up for a week.

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The world was shocked in the wake of their fight, overnight jaune and Pyrrha became legends. The fact that they accidentally stripped each other was morphed in the minds of all the watchers to be the fact that both fought with only their weapons and souls. That they had no added advantages or disadvantages. It was pure combat.

Something that came to be common later on as fighters sought to emulate them. Fighting naked against your opponent became a way of declaring your own power.

Jaune’s tattoos became something to emulate as well though obviously no one made their out of dust, the process was immensely painful after all. The world was divided on who was more impressive, jaune, or Pyrrha.

For his part jaune spent most of his time doing paperwork recuperating and spending time with his girls. There would be time to capitalize on his newfound popularity to advance his political career. But later. For now, jaune lay in a field of flowers watching his sister, yang and ruby play with Zwei

Life was good

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Ozpin subtly played with a knight piece as he studied the board, as well as a queen. The arcs were descendants of the bastards of the royal line of vale. The very same line he’d thought he’d ended with his life as the last king of vale during the great war.

He was powerful and would be a key to winning the war, as would Pyrrha

The only question was who’s piece was he?

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here’s the next chapter of accidental villain jaune, based off of the dice rolling system for a quest on space battles. it was all random chance and i think i did pretty good with what the dice gave me. what do you think?

#accidental villain jaune #rwby au #rwby #Jaune Arc #pyrrha nikos #anime tropes out the wazoo #just enjoy the dumb over the top action

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