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machinegunbun · 4 years ago

Note

Is there gonna be a third part for Deserved It🥺

Deserve You+#

Word count:1.7k

A/N: Everyone say thank youu anon for reminding me lmaoo. This was supposed to be posted tomorrow but I got excited soo

“Pete, please just let me explain.” You whimpered, your voice and spirit growing weak. It felt hopeless, like maybe you really had lost him for good.

Your fist knocked lightly against the wood of the hotel room door, the sound reverberating down the silent hallway. Anxiety filled you, this wasn’t your first time knocking. You had been here for fifteen minutes and were completely unsuccessful so far.

You were pleasantly surprised when you heard fumbling from inside, not expecting them to answer. When the door swung open you were met with the sight of Colson towering over you, an unimpressed glare being shot your way

“He can’t hear you, he’s in the shower. Now stop, you’re pissing me off.”

“Please.”

“What do you want?” The question was more of a statement, letting you talk only to get you to leave.

“Is he okay?” You ask, sniffling.

“What the fuck do you think?”

“Please, I just wanna make it better.“ You plead

“Then go the fuck home.” He replies, shutting the door halfway before opening it again “And stop fucking knocking.” He adds, shutting the door in your face. Sighing, your back slides down the door, admitting defeat.

As you sat in the all too quiet hallway you found yourself wondering if maybe it meant more than you would like to admit. Maybe Colson was right, would you have kissed Shawn if he had never walked in? Would you have even ever told Pete if you did? Would you even regret it?

Tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought. Who were you kidding? Of course you’d regret it, who cares what everyone else thinks? You knew better than anyone that leaving Pete for Shawn would be the downgrade of a lifetime, and the fact that people based the opposite assumption purely over their own ideals of beauty was fucked up. Pete treated you better than Shawn ever did, he made you feel more than Shawn ever could. He made you a better person, you couldn’t believe your judgement had lapsed that badly, even for so much as a second.

Your head knocked against the door twice, trying to bang the anxious thoughts directly from their source, before the door swung open, the tall blonde giving you a single disapproving look when he spotted you on the floor.

“Is it the pizza?” You could hear Pete ask from inside. Right, you hadn’t gotten the chance to eat dinner

“Nah, it’s just Rook. I’ll be right back, you got the door for me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Pete replied, his voice hoarse. You could only imagine he’d been crying.

You glanced up at Colson from your place on the floor, embarrassed.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“No.”

“He's not a baby, he doesn't need you to protect him.” You mumble

“No, but he cares about you. A lot. A-fucking-lot a lot, and I know if I let him out here and he sees you crying he’ll run right back into your arms.”

“I just wanna see him. I hurt him and it's killing me to know I can't hold him and make him feel better. I just wanna hold him.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Why don’t you just leave him alone and call Shawn instead so he can cheat on you again and you can go on another fucking bender and pretend like theres something interesting about your life.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, although you know his anger is the only reason for his words

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Who took care of you after you went on your little fucking bender? Pete. Who helped you through the breakup? Pete. Who was with you when you felt like the whole world hated you even though you did nothing wrong? Pete. Who was there for you, romantic or not, whenever you needed him? Pete.If you really want to apologize you need to wipe those fucking tears, take a breath, clean yourself up, and fucking apologize without guilting him into saying its okay.”

“Okay, Okay. I’m not Casie.”

“Damn right you’re not, cause my daughter would’ve never pulled this dumb shit in the first place. And get off the fucking floor, you look pathetic.” He scolds, watching as you stand up, still almost a foot shorter than him. Colson turns around, pushing the door open as it was only half shut. You peer inside, trying to catch sight of Pete, but seeing only a piece of the hallway.

You remained on the floor, not daring to knock once again out of fear Colson might call security on you.

Your head ticked up curiously when you heard someone walking down the hallway, looking up to see Rook making his way towards you. Glancing down at you, he knocked, waiting for a moment before Colson was walking out of the door. Colson looked down at you as well, mild disgust gracing his features before he was walking down the hallway alongside Rook, the two boys disappearing into the elevator.

Pete walked out five minutes later, hoping you hadn’t given up and left. His eyes lit up when he saw you, first reaction being to fix the pout that was stamped on your face.

“Oooh, you got in trouble.” Pete teases, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat next to you on the carpeted floor, not entirely caring that it was dirty as long as you were right down there with him.

“You heard?”

“It’s a hotel door, not a soundproof barrier.” He jokes, looking at you “Yeah, I heard everything. Listen, he shouldn’t have said any of that to you. He was angry, that’s all.”

“Don’t defend me.” You reply, looking over to meet his eyes. Pete purses his lips, his eyes filling with tears

“I’m always gonna defend you.” He says, his eyes leaving yours as he does, landing on the floor instead. The tone of his words are less reassuring and more disappointed. You thought for a moment he would cry, but he didn’t. His hand never even so much as came up to wipe his tears. Another brief silence fell over you, one more and you think you’d rip your hair out. You were unsure if you should wrap your arms around him the way you wanted to, the last thing you wanted to do was manipulate him into telling you what you did wasn’t a problem.

“I get it.” Pete says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You ask, your voice surprising even you in the midst of such stillness, feeling foreign and unlike your own

“I get if you want to be with him,” Your eyes meet once again as he says this “I won’t hate you.” He assures, his lips pushing together in a sad, half smile. You stared at him, examining his features and what you had done to him, but in Pete’s mind you were weighing out your options, and everytime Shawn came out on top. He was so caught up in his own mind he almost didn’t catch it when you began shaking your head.

“Oh thank god, cause he’s back at our place right now and we fucked on our bed-” Pete’s head tilted down in disappointment, focusing on his tattooed fingers. You laughed, punching his arm lightly “No, I want you dummy. Why else would I be humiliating myself by crying in a la quinta hallway. What's up with that, by the way? Colson doesn’t have the money to put you up somewhere better? You just got your heart broken.” Pete cracked a smile, his gaze shifting up to the door.

“I know the breakup was hard for you, and everything after it too. I guess I can understand just wanting something before it felt like the world turned it’s back to you.”

“No. I don’t want that, I don’t want Shawn. Sappy love songs, extravagant vacations, waking up early to exercise, flirting publicly as fan service, the perfect family-”

“Okay, okay we get it. He has a dad.” He laughs “Stop rubbing it in.”

“And actually nice hotels, seriously what the fuck is this.” You laughed, your heart swelling with love when you managed to make Pete smile “It’s just not who I am anymore. I’m late nights watching TV, laughing by the fridge when we get up at 3am to make snacks cause we have the munchies. I'm sitting in your backyard with you, your mom and your sister while we eat dinner and breathe the fresh air and look at the stars. I’m going on walks cause we’re depressed and need the sun to convince us we’re okay again. You changed me in the best ways, baby. I don’t want anything else.” You stared at the ceiling, vivid images flashing through your mind, thinking who you are now is so much more beautiful than who you were then.

You hadn’t even realized Pete was crying until he sniffled, your gaze drifting back over to him, the sight breaking your heart.

“Fucking lame.” He replies, both of his hands coming up to wipe his eyes, his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. You reach over, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your grasp. Laying there in peaceful silence, you find yourself running your hands through his hair, inhaling his scent and letting his body warm your own. You felt yourself calm down for the first time tonight with him in your arms.

The moment was broken as someone exited their hotel room, glancing down at the two of you on the floor before making their way to the pool, towel flung over their shoulder. Pete and you shared a look of amusement as he walked away, stifling your laughter until he made it to the elevator.

“Come on, let's go inside.” He says, trying the doorknob. There’s a thump sound as it moves a bit and stops, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before giving it another try. You tilted your head, looking at the doorknob and to Pete as a look of realization overtook his features.

“I forgot my key.” He sucks his teeth, shaking his head as you laugh from your place on the floor.

#Pete davidson #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fluff #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfic #colson baker #mgk #machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly fanfic #colson baker fanfic #mgk fanfic

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bettsfic · 4 years ago

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how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline

when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.

for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres.

i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost.

background

2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail

2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer

2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer

2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns

2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant

2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal

2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom

2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)

2013: discovered fandom

2014, age 24

this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down.

but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.

i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income.

2015, age 25

i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found.

when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.

i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.

it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1.

in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.

2016, age 26

the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.

in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.

i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha

in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.

2017, age 27

i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done.

a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown.

2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.

2018, age 28

early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown.

in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.

in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby.

i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.

as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.

2019, age 29

in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.

i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while.

i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.

my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.

near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.

i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting.

my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.

i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.

in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.

in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.

2020, age 30

i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.

the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit.

when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.

the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.

like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus.

when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them.

i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed!

so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.

totals

word count: 2.3 million

agent queries: 77

agent MS requests: 9

agent rejections: 28

agent no responses: 44

short story submissions: 86

short story acceptances: 3

short story income: $25

total submission/application fees: $1472

my (final) query letter

honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.

Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.

ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.

In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.

Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.

Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.

If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.

what comes next

i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.

meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall.

the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.

overall thoughts/stuff i learned

first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.

reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped.

i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war.

probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you.

with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.

#writing advice #the writing life #writing update

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charincharge · 4 years ago

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Cruel Summer, Part 24

cruel summer masterlist

AN: We’re almost at the end of this thing. One more chapter and an epilogue. Thank you all for sticking with me and this story. You make me feel like a Queen. Ok, without further ado...

All Rowan wanted was one Aelin-free day to wallow. He even called in sick for the first time in his entire gods damned life to accomplish it, but no – it seems the universe has other plans for him. He can’t escape her. Even on his day off, she manages to appear and twist the knife into his stomach a little further.

The door slams too loudly beneath his touch as he exits his truck, and Manon has the good sense not to ask him if he’s okay. He’s obviously not okay. And he knows when he’s been played. Manon specifically asked him to come inside to help with a drunk girl, not telling him said drunk girl was Aelin.

His chest tightens when he thinks about the way she backed into him to avoid that smarmy creep pawing at her, leaning into him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She belongs at his side. He knows she does. If only Aelin would admit that, too. If only she saw him as a viable option. A real partner.

Manon flashes him an apologetic smile, but Rowan simply shakes his head as his roommate and her girlfriend disappear behind her bedroom door.

Rowan should get to bed, too, but he slept all day in a depressed fit, and after seeing Aelin, he’s feeling far too agitated to sleep.

Instead, he pulls out his camera and hooks it up to his computer. He’d planned to do this earlier in the day, but instead of being productive during his day off, he slept the pain away. Rowan drums his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the machinery to connect. The photos upload quicker than he thought, and before he knows it, he’s scrolling through hundreds of photos. All of Aelin.

His front tooth nearly pierces the skin of his lip as he bites down onto it, as if by keeping his mouth shut he can hold back the onslaught of emotions threatening to bubble up from his tightened chest. He wishes he had a drink. He’s too sober for this.

Rowan scrolls through, wondering which photo he should edit first. He’s overwhelmed by each photo as is passes his vision. She’s so stunning. Her turquoise eyes pierce through the screen, and the spun gold of her hair glimmers in molten waves in each photo, no matter the lighting or photo composition. There’s a reason he couldn’t stop photographing her, and it’s because the camera loves her. He sighs loudly. He knows that’s not the only thing that loves her.

His heart thuds painfully against his ribs as he stops his scrolling. Because nestled in the swaths of photos of her, is a single photo of the two of them. It’s the only one they ever took. The entire summer. The only proof that they were actually together. That their relationship ever existed.

He’s hesitant to click on it, but he can’t stop himself. The enlarged picture hits him like a punch to the stomach. He remembers the night so clearly, wanting to cheer Aelin up and taking the first steps to have her reconcile with her family. He remembers how beautiful she looked in the buttery twilight with the beginnings of the setting sun behind her, reflecting the metallic ring around her dilated pupil. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t resist leaning his face against the smooth skin of her shoulder, breathing in her floral scent and snapping a picture.

He’s knocked over by the way her eyes light up as they look at him, her smile nearly blinding. Joy oozes off the photo, jumping out of the screen, and despite his mood, Rowan can’t help loosen the tooth that pierces his bottom lip, release his feelings and smile. They did exist, and he’s never been more grateful for the tangible evidence. He wants to print this photo and frame it, no matter what happens in the future. He wants to remember them just like this. Wind-tousled and blissfully happy, attached at the hip and in disbelief that they could ever feel this kind of contentment with another person.

He works for an hour, adjusting the color levels and editing the photo. There’s something soothing about returning to the methodical process of changing the lighting and adjusting exposure, getting rid of shadows, until all that remains is a perfect shot of the two of them. By the time he’s finished, he feels somewhat better.

Rowan pauses, admiring his handiwork, impressed at how quickly his editing skills came back to him. He forgot how natural it is for him to sit at a computer. It’s his second language. Before he has time to second guess himself, Rowan opens up an email.

mailto: aelin.ashryver

sender: rwhitethorn

subject: (no subject)

I emptied my photo card and remembered you wanted this one. I have… a lot more of you if you want them. Just let me know.

He attaches the photo and immediately clicks send. He doesn’t want to reread what he said. He’s sure he sounds like an idiot, and he’s positive she doesn’t want the photo anymore, but he can’t not send it to her. He needs her to see it. To have that concrete proof, too. To remember them.

A sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over Rowan, and he glances at the clock. 4am. He groans. His alarm is going to go off far too soon. And he absolutely can’t call in sick again. He closes the laptop and places it next to him, and he’s asleep before he even has time to change out of his clothes.

His dreams are vivid, a whorl of colors and pictures and feelings. Unsurprisingly, everything is Aelin. He sees her on that dance floor, dark eyes pulling him in, her clothes like a second skin over her curves. He imagines himself with her, hips pressed together, arms tangled and pulling each other close enough to breathe the other in while the music pounds overhead. Their lips are like magnets, meeting again and again, without a care in the world for the busy club around them, not caring who sees or watches as her lipstick smudges all over his face. Her phantom hands caress his face, and he feels hot all over.

Rowan wakes in a tangle of his sheets, sweaty and breathless. He’s shocked to see he’s up before his alarm has gone off, a rarity, especially given how late he went to bed, but his adrenaline pulses through him, ensuring he’s solidly awake. He groans and opens his eyes, looking around his room, immediately snagging his sights on his closed laptop. He’s sure Aelin hasn’t emailed him back. It’s barely been four hours. She’s surely still sleeping off her hangover, but that doesn’t stop himself from opening the computer and checking.

His heart jumps when he sees an email waiting with the word Ashryver. But upon a second glance, it’s an email from a different Ashryver than he was expecting. His stomach knots as he reads the email. This can’t be good.

mailto: rowanwhitethorn

sender: evalinashryver

subject: Urgent – Meeting Today at 2PM

Rowan,

Apologies for the late notice, but your presence is requested for a one-on-one meeting today to discuss your employment. A work matter has been brought to our attention that requires immediate discussion. Your manager has been informed that you are to report to our home office for your lunch break at 2PM today.

Best,

Evalin Ashryver

Rowan reads the email three times, his pulse racing faster each time he rereads. An email from Aelin’s mom, wanting to discuss a work matter that requires immediate discussion? That can only mean one thing – the Ashryvers somehow know about his relationship with Aelin, and now with only four fucking days left of his employment, he’s going to be fired. As if the Ashryvers needed another reason to dislike him.

He groans loudly and lets his head fall to his keyboard in frustration. This is the last thing he needs. He’s already feeling awful. He doesn’t feel like defending his love life to the parents of the girl who just brutally discarded him. At least he can tell them in all honestly that things are over.

Rowan tries to take his time in the shower, hoping it’ll calm him down, but the warm water just makes him feel overheated in his own skin. He can’t bring himself to stand in the shower any longer, starting to feel ill. He brushes his wet hair and puts on his cleanest uniform before heading out of the house. The least he can do is look composed.

He arrives at the park a full thirty minutes before his shift. He walks into the employee room to make himself a cup of coffee; he’s going to need some extra caffeine today.

Lorcan and Elide are already in the kitchen, completely wrapped up in each other. Rowan laughs softly at them, the picture of perfect summer love – Lorcan’s hands in Elide’s back pockets, and Elide tugging at Lorcan’s neckline, impatiently trying to bring his lips down to her level.

The pair jumps apart quickly at the sound of Rowan’s laugh, but he waves them off, insisting he doesn’t mind. The smile drops off his face when Lorcan turns to him with a serious expression, though, reminding him of why he’s at the park so early, and what awaits him later today.

“You don’t know what she wants to talk about, do you?” Rowan ventures to ask, and Lorcan shakes his head.

“Sorry, man.”

Elide looks confused, and Rowan fills her in on the ominous email he received this morning. Elide’s brow furrows, trying to come up with an alternate reason that Evalin Ashryver would need to talk to him, but even the optimistic girl is at a loss.

Lorcan slaps his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

Rowan isn’t as confident.

Minutes feel like hours as Rowan spirals into dread mode. He spends the morning letting people onto the swings, but nothing is distracting enough to keep his mind off the impending conversation about his employment. Despite Rowan’s decision to move back to Wendlyn at the end of the moth, he’s calculated his move down to the last dollar and really needs this final paycheck. It’s not like he’s been able to save this summer. He’s barely made minimum wage. He spends the morning frowning away, lost in a maelstrom of possible outcomes of this conversation – each one worse than the last.

When 1:45 rolls around, Lorcan pulls Rowan off his shift and tells him to head to the Ashryvers’.

The sinking feeling returns to Rowan’s stomach when he checks his phone and sees that on top of everything, Aelin hasn’t replied to his email.

Instead of walking, Rowan gets into his truck and drives to the Ashryver Estate. He doesn’t want to risk getting sweaty and gross walking along the beach, and he definitely wants to be prompt.

For the first time all summer, Rowan parks at the head of the Ashryvers’ driveway. He takes in the large house, which suddenly looks scarier than ever. It’s funny. He’s been in this house about a hundred times since May, but it’s still as imposing as ever.

On the front stoop, Rowan pokes his toe at a loose stone and shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side of that door, but he knows it’s not good. Sweat beads down the back of his thick uniform polo under the hot August sun overhead. He tugs at his collar, trying to give himself some room to breathe. But he’s finding it quite difficult. He’s been on the other side of this door plenty, but he can’t help but think of all the times he used Aelin’s window as his entrance. If her parents know about that... His stomach clenches with nausea. He’s kept Aelin’s secret, yes, but he’s been so incredibly disrespectful to her parents. He wasn’t brought up this way. His mom would absolutely smack him if she knew this was how he conducted himself this summer. He juts his chin out, ready for his chastising. He knows he deserves it. Rowan lifts his hand out of his pocket and hovers it over the thick wood paneling of their front door. If he waits any longer to knock, he’ll be late, and he knows arriving late to this meeting is the absolute worst thing he could do to Evalin Ashryver. Well, besides sleeping with her heiress daughter and sullying her good name. Rowan rubs his hand along his face. He is so utterly fucked. He can’t wait any longer. Rowan knocks steadily in three even raps. The door swings open, and Rowan swallows nervously as Aelin comes into view, looking worse for wear. He was expecting Evalin to answer the door, and Rowan feels even more off-balance at this twist. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect Aelin. She looks even more surprised to see him, and Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so out of sorts.

She tugs at her tangled, unbrushed hair, which is falling out of her low ponytail, swollen eyes filled with confusion. Remnants of eyeliner and mascara darken her bottom lash, making her bloodshot eyes even more prominent, and her skin is pale and clammy. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was very, very sick. He watches as Aelin pulls her robe closed tighter, hiding her thin tank top and shorts from his view. “Rowan?” She croaks, her voice barely a whisper between them, echoing in the marble foyer. “What are you doing here?”

Rowan looks down and takes note of her large furry slippers. He can’t help but smile.

“Those are cute,” he says, pointing at her feet, and Aelin’s nose scrunches up as she tries to hide one slipper behind the other.

She wipes at the dark circles under her eyes, and Rowan recognizes that she’s feeling self-conscious about the way she looks. Not that she should. Even hung over and disheveled, Aelin is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. He’s about to reassure her when Dorian ambles out of the kitchen, a foil wrapped food in hand.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Rowan shrugs tersely as Dorian wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. Aelin looks up at Dorian, eyes wide and unblinking, clearly still out of sorts. “Your burrito is ready,” Dorian says in a soft aside, nudging Aelin in the ribs. She licks her chapped lips and gives him a small smile.

“Do you want some lunch?” Aelin asks Rowan, her words filled with nerves. Rowan is anxious to talk to Aelin, of course, but he remembers that he’s not here to chat with her and steadies himself as he shakes his head. Rowan thinks she looks disappointed, but he can’t be quite sure.

“I’m actually here for a meeting. With your mom,” he clarifies. “Is she around?”

Aelin’s mouth drops into a soft circle as she begins to ask why. He’s about to answer her and maybe ask for any intel or advice when Evalin appears, looking even more austere than usual in a dark blue dress, her hair neatly pinned back in a perfectly coiffed chignon and a strand of pearls around her neck. Her heels click clack along the marble floor until she reaches Rowan. She greets him with a warm hug and a wide smile. “Rowan. Right on time.” She squeezes his arm lightly. “Let’s chat in my office, okay?” she says firmly, and Rowan has no choice but to nod. Aelin clearly doesn’t know what’s going on and looks as confused as ever. “Mom?” “Aelin,” Evalin chides. “When you finish your …” she pauses dramatically and nods at the foil in Dorian’s hands. “…breakfast, can you please go take a shower? I can still smell the vodka coming off your skin.” “But...” Evalin’s glare silences her daughter immediately, but it doesn’t wipe the look of confusion from her questioning face as she nods. Satisfied, Evalin leads Rowan into her office. Rowan remembers the room well from his tour with Aelin all those weeks ago, but it somehow seems even more daunting now. It’s clear the room is rarely used, despite the armchair by the window and the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. Rowan looks up and up and up. The built-in bookcases threaten to swallow him hole, with bindings going up to the ceiling. Evalin trails slowly to the desk and leans against the edge, rather than sitting in the large high-backed chair behind it. She points to a smaller chair for Rowan to sit in, and he takes his place immediately. Evalin’s face is tight with a forced smile, and he's sure any second now he’s going to receive a verbal lashing.

“So,” she begins, and Rowan sits up straighter. “It’s my understanding that your last day at the park is on Saturday,” Evalin says, and Rowan nods, his throat too tight to verbally respond. The room creaks and settles, the dark wooden floors also seemingly holding its breath to see what Evalin has to say.

Evalin pauses and holds a single finger up. Rowan watches with interest as she walks to the far bookcase and pushes slightly. The wall cracks open, and Rowan remembers the number of secret passageways and hallways Aelin led him through in their tour. So, he’s not entirely surprised to see Aelin and Dorian, crouching in the entryway of the hidden tunnel.

“Children,” Evalin scolds, and Aelin and Dorian are quick to scramble to their feet.

“Mom…” Aelin peers over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at where Rowan sits, but Evalin isn’t having any of it.

“Rowan and I are in a private meeting right now,” she says. Aelin looks like she wants to object, but Evalin pays her no mind. “No one likes a snoop.” She ushers them into the study and leads them toward the door without a word.

“I swear, she has super-sonic hearing,” Dorian mumbles, and Evalin smiles.

“I do,” she says, causing Dorian to blush. Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so flustered. It would be amusing if he weren’t sure he was about to be on the receiving end of Evalin’s wrath himself.

“Don’t let me catch you back there again,” she says sternly, and Dorian and Aelin reply with yes ma’ams in unison. Aelin looks over her shoulder one last time at Rowan before departing, and Rowan wants nothing more than to chase after her, but he’s stuck in his chair.

Evalin returns to her spot, leaning against the desk and crosses her arms. “Now. Where were we?” Rowan waits in silence. “Oh yes. Your employment coming to an end.”

Rowan’s stomach sinks. He’s about to get fired. He feels like he has to speak up, defend himself. But he’s not exactly sure what to say. So, he just babbles.

“Mrs. Ashryver, Evalin, ma’am…” He tugs at his hair, trying to work out his nerves, and barrels forward. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disrespected you or your family. It wasn’t my intention at all, but I would really love to finish out the week at Playland. I know I’ve overstepped my bounds, but I promise it won’t happen again. Ever.”

Evalin quirks her eyebrow at him and nods succinctly. “I understand why you would think you overstepped your bounds,” she says. “But, you didn’t.”

Rowan pauses, holding his breath. “I didn’t?”

“No. In fact, I was discussing it with Rhoe, and we both very much appreciate your initiative.”

Rowan lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “You do?”

Evalin laughs warmly, her smile reminding him so much of Aelin suddenly as her turquoise eyes crinkle with happiness. “Yes.” She crosses her ankles and leans forward.

Rowan pauses again and crosses his arms. “I think I’m confused,” Rowan finally admits, and Evalin laughs even more.

“I can see that.”

“So I’m not getting fired?” Rowan asks hesitantly, and then it’s Evalin’s turn to look confused.

“Fired? What on earth for?” She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

His brow furrows. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Are you still interested in pursuing a career in tech?” Rowan nods slightly, his thoughts bouncing around and wondering what the hell Evalin actually wants to talk about. If not Aelin… “I have an opportunity for you.”

Evalin pulls out a packet of papers from behind her on the desk and hands it to Rowan. He looks over the printout and then looks back up at Evalin, who is still smiling at him.

“I brought your app idea to the Playland board, and they were very impressed. They’re going to start a development team. It was a smart idea,” she chuckles. “In fact, I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t think of it first.” He looks over the papers in his hand again. It’s the breakdown of the app he pitched over dinner. He can’t believe it. Evalin clears her throat. “I don’t know what your employment plans are beyond Sunday, but we’d love for you to join the team.”

Rowan’s mouth drops. He’s actually speechless. Of all the things to he could talk about with Evalin Ashryver, this didn’t even make it to the bottom of the list. Never in his wildest dreams did he think she would take his idea seriously, much less pitch it to the board and then offer him a job there. His stomach churns slightly.

“The only catch is—” Rowan holds his breath as he wonders what the strings attached to this offer are. “The job starts in two weeks, and it would be in our offices in Adarlan.”

Rowan exhales, an onslaught of feelings attacking him. He can’t process what she’s just said.

“Adarlan….”

Evalin nods. “I understand that it would be a significant move, but we’d help with the relocation costs, and—”

Rowan stops her, thinking about showing up in Adarlan in two weeks, the place where Aelin lives. An awful thought crosses his mind.

“You’re not just offering this to me because I’m… friends with Aelin, are you?” he asks nervously. “I don’t want to take a job I haven’t earned.”

Evalin frowns and pats at her pearls. “Rowan, you have more than earned your spot on this team. It was your idea. But if it makes you more comfortable, you can interview with the head of the team. He’s meeting with a few other candidates in the next few days. I’ll tell him to add you to the list.”

Rowan nods. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” Evalin claps her hands happily. “Look out for an email from Malakai or his assistant to schedule the interview for this week. In the meantime, please send me your resume, so I can forward it along.” She pauses and looks at Rowan seriously. “Now, would you care to tell me why you thought you were being fired?”

Rowan coughs, and he can fill blood filling his cheeks with embarrassment. “Not particularly,” he mumbles.

Evalin chuckles again and sighs loudly. “I’m sorry if my email was scary,” she apologizes. “I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but now that I think about the wording, I may have misled you.”

“It may have taken a few years off my life,” Rowan says, causing Evalin to burst into laughter. “But thank you,” he continues, “I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

The study door cracks open and Rhoe pokes his head in. “Ah, did I miss it?” he asks, entering and clicking the door shut behind him. Evalin rolls her eyes at her husband.

“You did.” She looks at her watch and then back at him. “I told you. 2pm, promptly.”

“I got distracted by burritos,” Rhoe admits, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Who knew Dorian was such a good chef?” He pauses and looks at Rowan. “So, did the Ashryvers recruit a new coder?”

“Not officially,” Evalin answers for him. “Rowan, ever the humble and upstanding young man, has insisted upon an interview.”

“Ah, of course,” Rhoe says with a soft smile. “I told you he wouldn’t just accept a job offer.”

Evalin’s eyes twinkle at her husband. “Yes, I know. You know everything, darling.”

She kisses him lightly on his cheek before looking back at Rowan.

“Alright, well, I have other meetings to attend to, sadly,” Evalin says, “But I look forward to hearing about your interview.” She shakes Rowan’s hand firmly and heads out of the study. Rowan starts to follow her, but Rhoe holds him back for a second.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Rhoe says, and Rowan is immediately caught off-guard.

“For what, sir?”

“Don’t look so shellshocked, Rowan,” he says with a soft laugh. “We’ve loved getting to know you this summer. Having you around has been a treat. I know it must be hard to be away from your own parents, on the other side of the country. But, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how proud of yourself you should be. This app was a phenomenal idea. You’ve proven yourself to be intelligent, driven and…” Rowan can feel heat rising to his cheeks at Rhoe’s praise. He watches carefully as Rhoe pauses and lowers his voice, looking around conspiratorially. “And… don’t think I don’t know who’s kept that smile on my daughter’s face all summer.”

Rowan’s heart thumps in his chest. Rhoe knows. Oh god. Rhoe knows.

“I…uh…what?” Rowan stutters, unsure of how to respond. Luckily, Rhoe laughs and slaps a hand onto Rowan’s shoulder.

“Don’t look so petrified, son. I’m happy for you both.” Rhoe looks sincere, but Rowan’s stomach clenches at an awful thought.

“That’s not why you offered me this job, is it?” Rowan asks softly. He has to know. He won’t take it, won’t even interview for it if they’re offering it to him because of his relationship with Aelin.

“No no no,” Rhoe assures him. “My wife is not the most observant human on the planet. She has no clue. You and Aelin can tell her whenever you’re ready.”

Rowan rubs his hand against the back of his neck, needing something to do. “Well.” He coughs lightly. “I don’t think there’s anything to tell anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Rhoe says, his voice sad but a small smile making an appearance on his face. Rowan wonders what Rhoe knows that he doesn’t. But he’s too overwhelmed to think about that just yet.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Rowan says again, and he means it.

Rhoe shrugs him off. “I did nothing. This was all Evalin,” he says with a smile. “And, Rowan? You created this opportunity all yourself.”

Rowan nods and smiles stiffly as Rhoe leads him back out to the foyer.

A freshly showered Aelin sits on the stairs, finishing her final bite of burrito, and she stands quickly upon seeing her dad and Rowan. Rhoe pats her head as he passes by, giving Rowan a sly smile.

“So,” she says, and Rowan replies with the same sentiment. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asks.

Rowan wants to tell her. He really does. But he’s too overwhelmed with possibilities at the moment. He doesn’t want to tell her anything that isn’t real. He can’t risk seeing her reaction to this news. Not when it could possibly break him.

“It was nothing,” Rowan says, and Aelin’s brow furrows, knowing he’s lying to her. I mean, he had a legit meeting with her parents. And no one has told her a thing. He knows she’s dying for information, but he just can’t tell her anything yet. “Where’s Dorian?” he asks, trying to change the topic.

“Showering,” she says, flicking her eyes upwards to the ceiling. “Do you want a burrito? They’re amazing…” she asks, but Rowan shakes his head.

“I should get back to work,” he says, looking at the time. He can’t believe how long they were in there talking.

“Right.” Aelin sighs and follows him to the door. “Hey, Rowan?” she says, stopping Rowan before he reaches for the door handle. “Thanks for last night,” she says. “For rescuing me.” He nods stiffly. “I know that wasn’t your idea of a good night.” He shakes his head, laughing softly. No it wasn’t. “And Rowan? The picture? Thank you for sending it,” she says quietly. “I love it.”

Rowan smiles. “I do, too.”

Aelin bites her lip and twirls her long, wet hair around her fist. “You’re really not going to tell me what my parents talked to you about?”

“Nope.”

“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she says, and Rowan laughs.

“Maybe.”

He averts his eyes, not wanting to look at her, knowing he could break at any second. But Aelin seems to accept his reticence.

Aelin sighs. “I deserve that.”

Rowan wants nothing more than to talk with her and tell her everything, ask what he should do, what it would mean for them, but he knows he needs to think about this without her input.

“Ok, I really need to leave or I’m going to be late,” he says, and Aelin gasps.

“Right! Of course. Go.”

Rowan leans in to her hug her, on autopilot, without even thinking about it. And he can feel Aelin’s sharp inhale of breath as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and mindlessly brushes his lips against the top of her head.

“Sorry…” he says, pulling back quickly.

“It’s fine,” she chokes out, and Rowan flees the premises before she can say anything else.

By the time he gets back to work, Rowan’s imagination has run off without him. He can’t help but think of all the ways his life would change if he were to take this job in Adarlan. Would he be able to pursue Aelin, even if he was still working for her mother? Would they have to tell her mom? Clearly her dad knows, but for some reason, Rowan thinks he’s more amiable to the idea of Rowan than Evalin is. Or, was this whole job opportunity a ruse to get him to be a more acceptable partner for Aelin, one they wouldn’t be ashamed of? Doubts and confusion plague his thoughts as he rips tickets.

When Rowan receives the email from Malakai’s assistant later that night, asking to interview the following afternoon, Rowan is more unsure than before.

So, Rowan does what he should have done as soon as Aelin ended things with him, he calls his mom to tell her everything.

Dora wakes from an early evening nap to answer his call, and Rowan immediately feels guilty, but Dora is more than happy to talk to her son. He explains his situation to her, getting more and more tied up in his emotions as he goes, and when he finishes, Dora is silent on the other line.

“Mom?” he asks, and Dora sighs loudly.

“My sweet boy,” she clucks. “You know I would love nothing more than to have you back home with me, but… you need to do this.” She pauses. “No matter what happens with Aelin, this is the beginning of your career. With an app you thought of yourself and are going to get made. Rhoe was right. You should be very proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

“Doesn’t it feel like cheating though?” Rowan asks. “Like if I hadn’t been seeing Aelin, I never would have gotten this chance, and I’d be moving home with you.”

“Baby,” she laughs. “That isn’t cheating. It’s called networking. And yes, you were in the right place at the right time, but it doesn’t make you any less deserving of this. You deserve this so much.”

Rowan sighs. “But…what if Aelin gets upset that I followed her back to her hometown. I’ll feel like a crazy pathetic stalker.”

“Fuck what Aelin thinks.”

“Mom!” he says with a laugh. He’s never heard her swear so casually before.

“This is about you. And she should support you, even if she doesn’t want to date you.”

Rowan hesitantly agrees. It’s not like Aelin works for her parents. In fact, she’s told him many times she never wants to, and hates going into the Ashryver offices. And Adarlan is a big city. The chances of him accidentally running into her are slim.

Feeling slightly appeased, Rowan thanks his mom and preps for his interview. His feelings for Aelin aside, he wants this. He just hopes he can start believing he deserves it, too.

~*~*~*~

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sortaotaku · 4 years ago

Text

Happy New Years! 🎉

Ikevam New Year’s Set Stories

2021 Super Awesome Set

I wanted to share because I understand the paywall is probably too much for a lot of people. It’s a pretty informal overview of the stories though~

Boys Talk - Team Abnormal

Shakespeare, Le Comte, Jean

Setting: Thermae

Le Comte asks why Shakespeare is looking gloomier than normal. Shakespeare says he feels a bit weird about a sarcastic comment Arthur made about the three of them (Shakespeare, Le Comte, Jean) being abnormal.

Le Comte: I guess he means we’re deviants. Idk where he got that from.

He comments that Shakespeare likes to tease people and wonders what to do with him.

Jean: You two are most definitely deviants

Them: Wha?

Le Comte calls his comment unnecessarily cruel. Shakespeare defends himself and says unlike Le Comte he’s a gentleman

Le Comte is like LOL I feel like you added an insult in there

Jean: It’s best you hear the truth bc you’re in denial. You’ve been buying <your name here/MC> dresses a lot. Are you sure it’s not just bc you like dressing her up?

Le Comte: What else am I supposed to do? She looks ravishing in everything. I’m not doing anything except sitting and watching in the dressing room.

Shakespeare: A grown man enjoying dressing up a girl like a doll sounds pretty deviant to me

Jean: Yep. He’s the most deviant one.

Le Comte: Judging from the content of your plays I think you’re worse than me.

Shakespeare: My writing isn’t necessarily representative of my desires

Jean comments about how Shakespeare has been inviting MC over to his villa a lot.

Le Comte comments that he quite likes Jeans fixation on MC and Jean tells him to shuddup.

Shakespeare also says he isn’t doing anything weird. He says he blindfolded and cuffed her for research purposes.

Jean: Hold on, I’ll come back with my sword.

Le Comte: Don’t run around the mansion naked and angry. Return to the water now.

Shakespeare states that Jean is upset by trivial matters. Basically “tough luck, that’s life”

Le Comte: Yeah, be more open-minded

Jean: I must destroy the world then

Shakespeare asks if he had any weird encounters and Le Comte says he’s basically been a recluse

Jean admits to giving MC a boost on his shoulders, but... He was shocked because her thighs were pressed against his cheeks and they were soft.

Shakespeare: How are you insult us when you had her pressing her thighs against your face? You’re the worst deviant one.

Le Comte is basically like LOL and Jean is kinda baffled.

End

Boys Talk - Battle Against Desires

Theo, Napoleon, Mozart

Setting: Thermae

Mozart calls the two of them sighing in sync annoying

They do it again and state they’re tired

Mozart comments that this is rare considering how adept they are at dealing with the more eccentric residents

They’re both like “That’s it!”

Napoleon is like that’s what everyone says. Everyone thinks I’m sensible

Theo: Yeah, I thought common sense is something everyone should have. We just look overly sensible because everyone lacks it.

Napoleon is like how about we just toss that (sense) out, I’m sick of it.

Theo: Yeah, I’m going to do whatever I want

Mozart: Hold on, if you do that you’ll lose sight of yourselves.

Mozart (Internally): They say it’s the most dangerous when people go off the rails. These two keep order. I must stop them.

Mozart adds that everyone didn’t start out selfish. He asks if they’re sure if something else isn’t making them this way.

Napoleon says its a problem that MC sees them as so sensible.

Mozart is like: 🤨 Why?

Napoleon says that everything is wrong. She lies around in the common area asleep and apparently sleep undresses. (Half way, that is)

Mozart: Yea sounds about right... Wait what? Don’t tell me you...

Napoleon: Obviously I buttoned her up and tucker her in so she wouldn’t catch a cold.

Mozart: Are you her mom?

Theo: I get that! I would do that too.

Napoleon: Theo~ 🥰

Mozart: Can you guys not hug in the bath? Anyways what about Theo?

Theo: I went in for a bath and MC was in there stark naked bc she mixed up the time.

Mozart: Yea, she’s ditzy sometimes. Don’t tell me you...

Theo: Obviously I simultaneously tossed her my own towel and quickly turned around.

Mozart: Are you her dad?

Napoleon: I get that! I would do that too.

Napoleon~ ❤️❤️❤️

Mozart: Stahp hugging in the bath... So you’re saying you don’t feel free to express your desires bc you’re seen as too sensible?

Them: Yea

Mozart: That’s easy to fix. Just act on your desires. It’s important to be true to your feelings. I just do what I want.

Napoleon: Easier said than done. Women find it even more frightening when a “safe” man comes onto them more than normal men. They feel violation AND disappointment because of the breaking of expectations.

Theo: And you’ll lose trust that you cannot recover.

Mozart: That sounds oddly convincing from you two.

They sigh heavily again. Mozart smiles a bit and comments that he must warn MC to be careful from now on and encourages them to cheer up.

End

Boys Talk - Imagination Station

Dazai, Arthur, Isaac

Setting: Thermae

Dazai talks about how great a bath after a good drink is. Arthur agrees and asks Isaac what he thinks. (Note: Don’t go into a huge hot bath while drunk)

Isaac: STAHP TOUCHING ME YOU TWO! Why did you guys insist we bathe together?

Dazai: It’s a good way to get to know each other.

Arthur: Yep, we know each other well but there are no limits on luvbbb ❤️

Isaac: If this is your love I have some doubts...

Arthur + Dazai: Lalalala~~~ 🎶

Arthur: Isn’t it funny how alcohol loosens inhibitions? I’d love to get naughty with MC

Isaac: Don’t you dare touch her!

Dazai: I find it questionable too.

Isaac: Dazai?

Dazai: Women get uncomfortable with sudden moves. You haveta do “that”

Isaac: huh?

Them: I-mAg-I-nA-tIoN!

Isaac: 🤨huh???

Arthur: Lemme explain. We’re writers. We think up scenarios for a living.

Isaac: ?

Arthur: GOSH. We can do anything we want. In our minds. In vivid detail.

Dazai: Ai-kun is confused still, we must invite him into our minds

Arthur: Good idea! Naughty story time!

Isaac: Hold on—

Arthur and Dazai cook up an Isaac x MC smut headcanon in which Dazai still calls her “Toshiko”

Isaac didn’t even notice at first and commented that it makes sense Mc was drowsy because she’s a hard worker. He gets embarrassed when he figures out and the other two are like LOLLL 😂😂😂, we love your reactions!

Isaac: You’re saying you spend your days thinking about lewd stories of MC?

Them: No.

Arthur: We could imagine but the real thing is a whole different thing.

Dazai: The real thing trumps fantasy.

Isaac: So you were trolling me?

Them: Yes.

Isaac: You’re the worst!

Them: Rofl

End

Boys Talk - A Steamy Nighttime

Leonardo, Vincent, Sebastian

Setting: Thermae

Leonardo: A bath sure is nice!

The other two: ...

Leonardo: Why so quiet?

Vincent: I don’t think MC registers me and Sebastian as men. (Correct. You are indeed an angel and not a mortal man)

Leonardo: Why?

Vincent recalls how he was sunbathing with MC and she commented how he was comforting like a little brother

Leonardo: Pride must’ve been hurt by that. Sebas?

Sebastian: Similar. She said I was like her dad.

Leonardo: Dad-zoned, huh (*This isn’t my own abridging of the story, he actually said that) It’s not as bad as you think. Its proof MC is comfortable, that’s important.

Vincent and Sebastian says that : They want to be seen and treated as reliable men

Leonardo (internally): I’m pretty sure she sees them as men though. If I’m too serious about this, they’ll try too hard. The best thing is to make them laugh

Leonardo: You must get comfortable around women. If you get too self conscious things get weird right?

Sebastian: I see. How?

Leonardo: Prof Leonardo shall teach you. This is classified so don’t share

Them: We Promise.

Leonardo: Did you know a women’s breast is as soft as the inside of their arms. Start there with the inner arm

Vincent: Brilliant. What do we say after

Sebastian: Practice on me master Vincent

Vincent: Your arm is hard

Sebastian: I’m actually swole. (He says quite muscular)

Leonardo: You weren’t supposed to take this seriously

Vincent: Will you give more tips? I wanna get closer to MC

Sebastian: Please teach us professor Leonardo

Leonardo (internally): I didn’t expect this... They’re so pure. I can’t let them down.

Leonardo: When someone licks their lips it means they want you to kiss them, so watch out.

Vincent: You’re a genius! Arthur does that all the time! But I won’t do that since it will startle MC if I suddenly kiss her.

Sebastian: Start with the forehead/cheek

Vincent: Anything else?

Leonardo: Playing with hair = Wants affection

Sebastian: Isaac does that a lot, but he DOES crave affection. I gotta watch out for that.

Leonardo: Listen. I didn’t expect this...

Them: Teach us more!

Leonardo: 😓

End

A/N

Sorry it’s late. Distracted my Animal Crossing. You can find 2020’s set in my previous post or under the “2020 New Years Set” tag.

#cybird #ikemen vampire #ikevam #2021 new years set

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 3 years ago

Note

FINALLY someone who's actually read the book and not just watched the movie

As a teenager, I used to read A LOT. And not only young adult books, even when the majority of the books I read were from that genre.

I remember sitting in clase feeling like I had fever because I had just ended reading The Picture of Dorian Gray (14 years old). I remember Lord Henry's words running through my head. And after reading Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde (15 years old), I couldn't pay attention to any other subject for the rest of the day.

I remember when my dad came home with a book for me to not be so bored. It was the Treasure Island (maybe 11 or 12 years old). To date, I have re-read it at least 7 times. I re-read it once a year, in a trip to the beach. I mock my dad making references to that book all the time.

I remember reading Wuthering Heights (15 years old or less). and hating it because it was so hard to read. I remember the drama and even know I remember so much the passages of the books describing the dark rooms, the fog, the horses and people walking and walking and walking across to reach a house, a bed that reminded me of a coffin, the feeling of a person coming home and it being both agonizing and full of light inside.

It's funny because my memory sucks when it's about remembering dates or names or stuff like that, but I store moments in songs and books all the time. And it's not just a memory, but full vivid image. My imagination allows me to go back to that moment and see it again behind closed eyes. I remember listening to Summertime by My Chemical Romance while walking through the backstreets of Copacabana, I remember sitting on the red and blue tatami with my Tae Kwon Do uniform when one of my friends gave me a copy of the Lord of the Rings (16 years old).

Even years, many many years later, I just need to listen to a song and pick the book and I'll remember crystal clear the moment.

With The Book Thief (15-16 years old), I remember crying after finishing the book in my grandma's living room. My mom complaining about it, my grandma defending me. And even when she's death now, I can fully see her standing behind the sofa, giving me a kiss in the head.

I remember my teacher, the paper the book was wrapped in. I remember the Cultural Festival like it's in front of me. The bookstore were I first saw the book.

And sorry for rambling but widhskjd it's a thing that doesn't happen to me with movies. Or it until happens sometimes. But definitely, books are my weakness. So yeah, you can guess I prefer the books from the movies.

#Shan's asks #Shan's personal rants

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nanasarea · 5 years ago

Text

Sucker I xvi

Prompt: Y/N attends a school for the supernatural, specifically: werewolves, witches and vampires. The school might be magic, but so is love, right? Right?

Genre: angst, fluff, slight smut

Pairing: reader x 00 line

Inspired heavily by: Legacies (and The Vampire Diaries&The Originals)

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! um yeah, lots of questions answered in this one but not all haha also this is one long chapter but it’s so bad I APOLOGIZE! my writing really doing downhill :(

main m.list / sucker m.list / i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi xvii

You woke up drenched in your own sweat, still seeing the vivid image of the lifeless woman in front of you.

“Man in the hood again?” Jisoo asked as you just lightly nodded, you couldn’t tell her what your dreams were actually about, so you lied, but you didn’t really have a choice.

“Yeah, I’ll just try and fall asleep again.” You said before laying back down.

Time jump

“It’s right up here.” Jeno explained as Hana slightly slapped Renjun’s arm.

“Why did you bring him?” Hana asked, thankfully you and Jeno were too focused on your own conversation to overhear theirs.

“He knows the way!” Renjun explained.

“So does y/n!” Hana explained.

You and Renjun decided on looking for Jeno’s uncle and asking him if he knew anything, and hopefully compel him to forget you asking if he didn’t.

You asked Hana to come along so it wouldn’t just be the two of you again, but Renjun decided to include Jeno, telling him it was just a visit to town and that if they’re already there, they could visit his uncle.

Hana on the other hand was slightly informed, not about everything, but enough for her to understand.

“Uncle Olor! Hi! You remember y/n and these are friends from school, Renjun and Hana.” Jeno explained to his uncle once he saw him.

As soon as Renjun made eye contact with him however, he froze.

“You.” Olor said, pointing at Renjun.

“You?” Renjun asked, making everyone else confused.

“You two have meet?” Hana asked.

“He’s the one who kidnapped me.” And with that, everyone’s eyes widened but Renjun and Olor’s.

“Uncle?” Jeno asked.

“It’s a long story. May I interest you in a cup of tea inside while I explain?” Olor asked as Renjun put on his hand in front of you and Hana.

“Look, kid, I may have been a bit too harsh, but I promise to not lock you up this time.” Olor laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

After a lot of hesitation, you were all sat down in his living room as he put the plate with snacks on the table. It wasn’t the house you and Renjun were in, it was a whole different one.

This one was way more cozy, it was filled with family pictures, cat pictures, so on. You recognized Jeno and some of his cats from some of the photos, but for some you couldn’t quite understand why you felt like you knew the people on the photos.

“Prophesy, explain, now.” Renjun said.

“Calm yourself, witch boy. You don’t want to mess with a werewolf, do you?” Olor asked, chuckling.

“Prophesy?” Jeno asked.

“To explain the prophesy, I’ll need to start at the beginning.” Olor started explaining.

“Me, y/n’s dad and another one of our friends, Richard were best friends when we were your age. We were always together, skipping class, getting drunk at 3am in the forest, we did everything together. I even attended y/n’s parents’ wedding, I was the best man, obviously.” Olor explained, pointing at a photo of him on the wall. That’s why you felt like you knew them.

“Wait, you knew my dad?” You asked.

“You knew her dad?” Renjun, Jeno and Hana asked in unison.

“Yes, now Richard was always jealous, he’s a vampire where as me and y/n’s dad were both werewolves, so we got along a bit better, but we didn’t realize it, not at the time at least.” He continued.

“You see, me and your dad were closer, Richard was the only vampire in our friend group, most of us were werewolves, so he developed a strong dislike towards us, but we didn’t know it was to this extend. Your grandmother told them the prophesy on her death bed, and Richard figured it all out, and he knew that if he let your dad live, your dad would do anything to protect you, as he knew you were the one with power of three.” Olor continued as he made eye contact.

“Wow, someone has issues.” Jeno commented.

“But how? Don’t you lose your witch powers when you become a vampire?” Hana asked.

“Y/n’s mom, she was a siphoner and her dad a werewolf, all she needed was to activate her werewolf side and become a vampire. One murder and one death later, she’d be a fully activated tribrid.” Olor explained.

“And you can be a vampire and a siphoner at the same time.” Renjun added.

“Richard knew that the humanity in question was yours, if you turned it off, you would be more powerful that anyone could even imagine, and without the humanity, you would be willing to do as he says, as you wouldn’t care about hurting people. He wanted to eliminate all werewolves you see, just because he was jealous.” Olor shrugged.

“With you, without your humanity, he could continue the killing spree.” He continued.

“What a bitch.” Hana commented.

“What a bitch indeed.” Olor agreed.

“But when you were 5 years old, your parents died, they wanted your aunt to put a spell on you, to forget your parents, to forget me, forget everything and make it impossible to figure out who you are. He did it to protect you, y/n.” Olor explained.

“Is that why I had such deja vu when meeting you? And the house?” You asked as Olor nodded.

“It wasn’t until Jeno brought you to meet me that I saw you again, I got scared. When I found out you started going to the school, I thought Richard was going to find out so I kidnapped your friend here.” He explained.

“Sorry.” he said to Renjun before continuing the story.

“No hard feelings, but overdoing it, much?” Renjun laughed.

“That was your old home, the one that burned down. I recorded what you did down there, by the way, so I know you probably think I’m the man in your dreams but it’s dark magic, and as a werewolf, I can’t do magic, so I asked your aunt. She tracked it down to Richard, he was sneaking into your dreams to check up on you and he was disguised as me, so if you ever met me, you would be reminded of the dream. I got hold of one of your dreams though, I tried letting you know to stay away from Richard, that’s why I kept mouthing R, for Richard.” He explained.

“I thought it stood for Renjun, because that’s when he got kidnapped.” You confessed.

After hearing all this, you all just sat in silence.

“You recorded everything?” Renjun asked.

“Yes, even your little ki-” “Why should we trust you?” He cut him off, knowing that if anyone found out you and Renjun kissed, he’d be dead by tomorrow.

“You did kidnap me after all.” Renjun added.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done it, kid. Besides, can’t you use like a truth spell?” Olor answered.

“Wait, if she’s the one, is she also the savior?” Renjun asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t cracked that one yet, y/n’s aunt has a theory that the line is referring to another person, as in like the savior will be “the one”, like a soulmate, but I have no idea who that is. I’m sure Richard does.” Olor sighed. You sat in silence for a while, absorbing the new information

“So, what I’m hearing is that my whole life was a lie.” You said after about 5 minutes of silence.

“Sorry, kid.” Olor answered.

“Wait, if you knew about all this, why didn’t you say anything?” Jeno asked.

“I thought i was protecting you all.” He explained as you felt a sharp pain in your chest.

Meanwhile

“Drain it, all of it.” Richard instructed as the boy continued the spell. He was draining the blood from your system so you would need to feed.

“She’s gonna have to feed, and once she feeds, she’ll lose control, the guilt has to be killing her after we sent that woman. Just one more moment of guilt and she’s turning it off, I can feel it.” He added

Meanwhile

“What’s wrong?” Hana asked.

“Hungry. Thirsty. I don’t know which. Need food.” You could only say a few words at a time as Hana’s eyes widened.

“How long have you gone without feeding?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” You answered.

“Make it stop.” You added, pleading at this point.

“Water, now.” Renjun practically yelled as him and Olor ran to the kitchen to get more food and water.

“Water isn’t going to do anything!” Hana sighed.

“Jeno!” She turned herself towards him and told him “Give me your vain, now.” She said.

“What?” He asked.

“She’s a vampire, she hasn’t fed in god knows how long, she needs blood and I’m shaking too badly for her to feed off me.” She explained as she grabbed him and pushed him towards you.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, just breath. Um, I guess you have to feed so, go at it?” Jeno asked, nervously panicking as he didn’t know what to do in this situation.

He wanted to help but he didn’t know how, so he just pointed as his neck and tried his best to smile while panicking. You wasted no time and didn’t even think about how intimate that was, you just wanted blood, now.

You sunk your teeth into him as he let out a sigh.

“You okay? Both of you?” Hana asked as Olor and Renjun got back.

“Kinda sensitive, kinda hurts.” Jeno explained as both his uncle and Renjun dropped what they were holding when they saw you.

She’s a vampire now?” Renjun asked.

“We were going to tell you!” Hana defended.

“Hey, you two, not the time. At least she hasn’t killed anyone to unlock her werewolf state, calm down.” Olor explained, trying to get everything under control.

You let out a faint moan, as the blood filled your system. You quickly pulled away, not wanting to hurt Jeno the way you did to the woman. You all took a deep breath as your breathing stabilised.

“You really are like your dad, you’re giving me a heart attack and you’ve only been here for half an hour.” Olor said, which is when his words started playing in your head. At least she hasn’t killed anyone.

You tried to force a smile as you all calmed down before you said your goodbyes and headed back to school.

Once you got back, Renjun said that this is far too serious to handle alone so he called over Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, Hana, Jisoo, Jeno and Mark into your room and explained everything.

“So, to sum it up, you’re the special chosen one who we need to protect from a guy who we have never meet and have no information on, besides his name, and if we fail, it could mean the end of werewolves everywhere.” Mark said.

“Pretty much.” Jeno commented.

“And don’t forget the part where my whole life has been a lie.” You added.

“You’re fucked.” Chenle said.

“Language!” Jisoo commented.

“All I heard was that now we’re some sort of super squad.” Jaemin said as he wrapped his arm around you.

“More or less.” Hana laughed.

“I thought we were Core 8.” Jisung joked.

“Minsoo and Haechan would be offended, Jisung.” Mark commented.

“Where are they anyway?” Renjun asked.

“Minsoo is with our dad, some fancy family reunion planning.” Jisoo answered.

“And Haechan?” Mark asked “No idea.” Jisoo answered.

You decided on talking about everything in the morning, as you were all tired and in need of some rest. Jaemin on the other hand, noticed the mark on Jeno’s neck and decided to follow him to the kitchen.

“Nice mark, who’s it from?” Jaemin asked, chuckling and surprising Jeno.

“Oh, that?” Jeno nervously laughed.

“Y/n might have needed to feed an-” “She feed? On you?” Jaemin asked, annoyed.

“and on your neck, of all places.” Jaemin scuffed.

“Jaemin, it was the only way to help her!” Jeno defended.

“Where was Hana?” Jaemin asked.

“And what about your wrist veins? They’re not good enough?” He added.

“She hasn’t even feed on me yet, and I’m her boyfriend, well not since she transitioned anyway!” Jaemin yelled as Jeno took a deep breath.

“Look, you’re like a brother to me! I would never let her feed off me if it wasn’t important! Do you really think so low of me? Hana was freaking out and asked me to do it since she was shaking too much and in the panic, she just fed!” Jeno defended.

That’s when Jaemin finally regained his senses. Jeno wouldn’t have let her feed if it wasn’t important. Jaemin knew Jeno still had feelings for you, but he respected your and Jaemin’s relationship, he wouldn’t try and ruin it. Not when he and Jeno have gotten so close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten mad, maybe i’m just the crazy impulsive vampire fell in love with his brother's girl, well ex-girl" Jaemin sighed “Hey, it’s okay.” Jeno said as he patted the chair for them to sit down.

“It’s normal for you to have that reaction. I heard feeding off of each other can be intimate, and I know you know that I still like y/n, but I would never try something on her, not while I know she’s dating my best bro.” Jeno said.

“I’m your best bro?” Jaemin said, acting flustered.

“Yes, and besides. She’s now your girl, you’re allowed to get crazy over her, it’s sometimes encouraged!” Jeno laughed as Jaemin smiled and hugged him.

“I’m sorry.” They both said to each other before going back to their rooms.

Meanwhile

“At least she hasn’t killed anyone, at least she hasn’t killed anyone, at least she hasn’t killed anyone, at least she hasn’t killed anyone.”

The words repeated and repeated in your head as the image played. Before you knew it, you heard a voice calling out for you.

“Kitten, turn it off.”

a/n: so,...now you know

also yes i used the “the crazy impulsive vampire fell in love with his brother's girl” quote, I had to. I JUST HAD TO. Also, an explanation for 1) the man in the hood, 2) the prophesy, 3) what y/n’s parents were 4) Olor and even a name for the main antagonist (one of, anyway), but who is Richard actually? Theory, anyone?

and I know ya’ll want haechan, he’s the center in the next part so don’t worry!

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream au #nct dream series #supernatural au #na jaemin x reader #lee jeno x reader #huang renjun x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #lee haechan x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #the originals #the vampire diaries #legacies #legacies inspired #sucker

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1-800-channie · 5 years ago

Text

Cigarettes & Mint | Chapter 1

→ Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

→ Genre: Very Angst / Fluff / Highschool!Au

→ Warning: Strong language; slight eating disorders; cursing; bullying; smoking; heartbroken;

→ Pairing: Badboy!Hyunjin x Innocent!Reader;

→ Summary: When your ego is bigger than your brain, you don’t mind breaking someone’s heart. As soon as the smell of cigarettes and mint invade your nostrils, your heart starts beating faster and your life starts falling apart. I bet you will end up broken.

→ Playlist for the Chapter:

↳ Paper Doll - Bea Miller ↳ Fool - NCT 127 ↳ Best Friend - iKON ↳ Friends - Chase Atlantic ↳ Colours - Day6

→ Words: +2K

→ N/A: Hiii everyone! I’m so excited to finally post my lovely ‘Cigarettes and Mint’ Fiction! It took me so long to write, every chapter was carefully written and revised at least five times. This is very important to me, so, i hope you love to read it as much as i loved to write it. OH and… Prepare your heart ;)

[Previous] [Next] [Masterlist]

[01:20 PM/ ONE DAY BEFORE THE BET]

The Canteen has never been a clean place, the tiled floor was always dirty with stains that would make your trainers get glued to the floor, but it’s was always a place full with enthusiasm and freedom, where everyone can talk aloud, and curse as much as they feel like to. The thin walls painted in white with the word ‘CANTEEN’ in yellow did a terrible job to preserve the loud yelling from inside, but no one seemed to care, almost like the canteen was a holy place, where everyone was free to do and say what they want.

The yellow color from the large wooden doors seem to become more vivid when the room is full, inside, students that could be mistaken to animals due to the amount of food they eat and for talking with their mouth packed, something that always made you want to throw up, are openly hanging out.

As everyone feeds their cravings for food, you feed your dark eyes by watching shamelessly the boy that is currently laughing at something that his best friend showed him on his iPhone. He is like a k-idol, impossible but inevitable to fall in love with, and you couldn’t help it but admire how handsome he was.

The music that echoes inside your brain from the headphones you have plugged in, is from a kdrama, where the boy stays under the freezing rain to kiss his beloved. And because of it, you feel your heart skip a beat while imagining you and Hyunjin on the same plot. As the slow beat went on you got lost on him.

As you stare blanked at the bad boy in front of you, your innocent brain makes it more accessible to cloud your eyes and make you face the scenario of him, drenched, over the icy rain, his huge hands on your tiny ones while he confesses the love he holds for you. His brown hair glued to his forehead and his lips red from the cold.

When someone yanked your headphones out of your ears you came back to reality, and there he is, in front of you, with a destructive smirk on his full red lips. He seemed much taller than you, and you felt so miserable staring at him while sitting down.

“Listen to me, Angel…” Hyunjin’s seductive voice orders you. “I know you like me very much, but the constant staring makes me uncomfortable as fuck, so please, stop staring at me like that, yeah?” As soon as he ceased talking everyone already had their attention on both of you, and they were giggling and pointing at your petty figure.

Your cheeks heated up from embarrassment, at that moment you wanted to dig a hole and hide inside until next week, so everyone would have forgotten about it already. When you stood up to excuse yourself, your legs weak and trembling, the hero of the story comes to the view to save you:

“Hyunjin, you didn’t need to be such a dick to her. You could’ve just talked to her privately, why humiliate her like that?” Hendery replies, a mad emotion taking advantage of his heaven made features.

“Look, you dont-” Minho came to help his friend, but your friend didn’t even let him finish. Hendery’s veiny hands gripped his shirt and he almost lifted him off the floor, angriness taking advantage of his bright form.

“Hendery~” Your scared frame whispered while tugging at his shirt. “Let them be… Please. It’s ok…”

Your childhood best friend takes a glace of five seconds at your appearance. You are bitting your lip nervously, he perceives your body trembling from the hand you have gripping him, the blush on your cheeks is redder than ever and small, hot and salty tears are forming at the corners of your eyes.

He releases the bad boy and gets closer to Hyunjin, their noses practically touching and he threatens him:

“Dont come close to my best friend ever again, or ill beat you until you can’t fucking walk, understand?”

Hyunjin grins. “Yes, sir.” He salutes him before turning his back at both of you and going back to his original seat.

You, with your whole body shivering, grab your green backpack and wander out of the happy canteen, where you were starting to feel suffocated in. The tears in your eyes seem to be stronger than all the strength in your body and they flow down your jowls, making you despise yourself for being so pity.

The tall man that just defended you runs after you on the immense corridor, his steps loud and lucid, and he grabs your wrist, holding you back.

“Let me go… please.” You beg your voice muffed, making it crack from all the sadness peaking up at the exterior.

“You know i can’t do that.” And with that said, he draws your body against his, your head leaning on his shoulder as you whine. “Why do you always fall for the bad boys huh?” He jokes while caressing your wavy hair.

You let a timid laugh escape your edges as you sob, the sense of being protected drowning you completely. Hendery is that efficacious, he makes you feel special and safe. He has eternally protected you, but you, being the careless silly you are, never really paid attention to it.

As you feel your body calming down, you lift your face to gaze at him, a dumb prince-like smile displaced on his margins.

“You always show up at the best timing… Do you have any kind of seventh sense to know when I’m in trouble?” The laugh that he left out could be considered the cutest laugh you have ever heard if you weren’t stupidly in love with the bad boy that just shamed you in front of half of the school.

“I do, babe.” He plays and laughs right after, a pleasant silence involving you both on your walk out of the school. The endless corridor is full with lockers in both sides and your steps are echoing inside it, due to it being empty. The only light inside it is provided by the little lamps on the ceiling, that unsuccessfully make their job of brightening your way.

As you both sit down on a bench, outside, the wind feels refreshing on your hot cheeks. The sun seems to fade away at the right time, leaving you and him on a fresh shadow. Hendery has an adorable little pout on his thin lips, you watch him confused:

“What’s wrong, big boy?” You ask while squeezing his cheeks, he groans annoyed and takes your hands out of his appearance.

“Just because i had to save the beauty from the beast, i didn’t get to eat lunch. Now, I’m hungry.” He informs you in a grumpy tone, crossing his arms over his chest like a child when their mom doesn’t give them what they want.

“Here.” You say, taking your lunchbox out of the backpack and handing him the food you should have eaten on the first break.

Hendery looks at you irritated. His thick eyebrows pushed together and his lips pressed in a thin line, making it pretty obvious that he was about to lecture you about not eating your food.

“Are you doing it again?” He asks more concerned than angry. “I dont want you in trouble again for throwing food out on the bin when it’s totally eatable. And, please, dont tell me you are stopping eating because someone called you fat…” He explains, his hand brushing your hair comfortably and his eyes stare deep into yours in genuine love.

“No… It’s not that!” You lie, taking his hands off of you. “I just dont like this conserve my mom chose…” You try to cover up your dirty lie and he seems to fall for it, at least for now. You feel relieved that he didn’t dig deep on the problem.

Hendery feeds the bread calmly, casually sipping the juice he bought not too long ago, pineapple flavored, also your favorite. The package of it it’s simply colored in green and yellow, with a picture of a pineapple, kind of aesthetic pleasing in your eyes.

“Are you… hmm… alright? After what he did?” His clumsy self asks without looking at you. So he could avoid your hurt expression because it would damage him too.

“It was my fault… i completely froze while looking at him, i would feel exactly like him if i was in his position.” You answer honestly, and Hendery couldn’t believe that you saw the good side of what that sucker did to you, and even defend him.

“Still…” The cutie sitting next to you remarks, stuffing his mouth. “He didn’t need to be that bold and rude.” He blunts out shrugging, talking with his mouth full.

Noticing the gross action, you slap his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and almost choke. Then, when you both were calmer, you leaned your head on his shoulder, seeking a way out of the images of Hyunjin.

[11:20 PM/ ONE DAY BEFORE THE BET]

The sounds that could be heard from the bottom floor were laughs and loud RnB music while the three friends hung out at one of their houses. Changbin is the one that has more money out of the three, his house looks like a palace, and it’s so quiet that Hyunjin envies it.

The spot where they usually stay is Binnie’s basement. It’s a big, cozy room with an even bigger TV, where they usually watch films. A fluffy carpet that they use to lay down on, and an expensive bathroom that always smells like vanilla.

Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, watching Changbin, that was sitting down o the fluff carpet playing ‘Call of Duty: Zombies’. Minho just came out of the luxurious bathroom, smiling at both of his best friends paying so much attention to a game. This makes him feel like he is the most mature out of the three.

“I want to do something fun…” The older boy says kicking Hyunjin’s body so he could sit next to him on the comfortable sofa. Changbin, the owner of their favorite place to hang out, turns off the PlayStation and turns his attention to the boys behind him, resting his head on his hands cutely.

Hyunjin already had a dangerous cigarette caught between his full lips, the urge to take those memories out of his mind was killing him. Binnie, scenting the disgusting smell of the smoke, mad, took the tobacco of his best friend lips and put it on the trash bin in a fast movement.

“I told you, no smoking inside my basement didn’t i?” The back haired boy warns his friend, watching Hyunjin groan out of annoyment. He just needed help to forget you and your sad eyes.

“I need to fucking get revenge out of that motherfucker,” Minho said angrily, he hated to be threatened, especially from someone as insignificant and poor as Hendery.

The three of them didn’t like him, but Minho was the one that hates him the most since the girl he was trying to date was stolen from him. Hendery and Lee’s crush, dated for one year, and she was treated like the queen she was. When she showed up in front of Lee Know, her neck full with bruises from a night of pleasure, he felt extremely jealous and swore to himself that the prince-charming needed to pay.

Hyunjin wanted to be left out as much as possible, he didn’t want to talk to you again, because now, he couldn’t stop seeing your hurt expression, and he felt bad for what he made you go thru. He hated Hendery for always being there and not leaving you alone.

The seductive boy plays with his lip ring as he thinks to himself how impulsive he was, and how he could have talked to you more carefully, without calling your best friend’s attention.

“What do you plan to do, huh?” Changbin asked while bitting the gum he had bought just for this specific moment of being with the only people that understand him.

“Get him hurt. I want him to suffer…” Minho said, his eyes traveled at the boy sitting on the sofa next to him, his legs wide open, his head was thrown back, he knew something was up with his friend, but he couldn’t bother to care, not when his ego was hurt.

“We need someone to get to him, right?” Binnie asked with a smirk on his lips.

“Guys please let him be… or dont get-” Hyunjin was trying to make his bestie quit the idea of hurting the boy because after all, he was just taking care of the girl he likes.

“THAT’S IT! THE ANSWER IS YOU, MY FRIEND.” Minho yelled, not letting his devastated best friend finish talking.

“I told you. I’m not doing it…” Hyunjin assures.

“I just needed you to fuck, Kim Sun, the girl you humiliated today, and make him suffer. I know he is in love with her ever since they met. If you hurt her, you will hurt him.” The blond man says smartly, feeling proud of all the sin inside of him.

“Nah. Nop. Fuck… No. I’m not doing that.” The lip ringed boy sifts uncomfortably on the sofa, a weird pain consuming his whole body just by thinking about you.

“I can do it,” Changbin says, the confidence taking advantage of his short body. “She is hot as hell, i dont mind doing it.” His large hands drawing an invisible line of your ass and tapping it right after.

“Nah man. She won’t ever let you close to her…” Minho denied his friend, and Changbin felt ridiculous for being left out of the group once again. He misses those times where the three of them would do everything together for fun, and not bother other people. He was afraid that if he refused to do what his friends wanted he would be left alone. And he dislikes being left alone.

Lee Know turns to the tall man next to him once again and tries his luck once again.

“Come on, Jinnie… She has a big ass, just like you want. She is quite pretty… It won’t be that hard.” He blunts out. “She is totally in love with you, she will be yours in just a few hours.” He feels his smile fade away when the stubborn man beside him shakes his head in a negative way for the third time.

“Well, i guess you are that weak, huh? Can’t even make a virgin girl fuck you without catching feelings.” Minho spits angrily those vulgar words, he knows Hyunjin will give up. Just because his ego is way bigger and stronger than his poor brain.

“What the fuck are you talking about man?” The smoker yells. “I can fuck her in less than three days, just by looking at her, i know she will fall on her knees for me!” Jinnie says full of himself, the images of your broken face being replaced by imagines of you moaning out loud his name.

He is Hwan Hyunjin, the biggest playboy of the school, not just someone.

“I bet you can’t get into her pants in three days and then leave her right after,” Minho smirks and throws fireworks inside him, he finally got what he wanted.

“I bet i fucking can!” Hyunjin was obviously irritated, and his ego was hurt.

“Good, we start counting tomorrow then,” Changbin says, forcing the angry boys to look at him.

Hyunjin knows he shouldn’t do this. He will hurt you, he will break you., he will tear you apart, but he couldn’t care less, because his ego was being tested.

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slcters · 5 years ago

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「 avan jogia. cismale. he/him. 」i hope that #lexsquad member「 SLATER MALIH SAVALIA 」adds me to the squad ! the 「 TWENTY THREE 」year old 「 LAW 」 major has been apart of the squad since 「 OCTOBER 2018」and seems to be the 「 DELPHIC 」of the group.「 SLATER」is a「 SENIOR」 and seems to enjoy 「 WRITING & PLAYING MUSIC 」but you can always find them at a squad party , too !

TW: CHEATING, ABANDONMENT, PORN MENTION, DEATH, DRUGS

Anyways lemme give you some info about my man and try to keep it as short ( I lied ) as possible I’ll have some wanted connections at the end so hit me up to plot cause I live for that :)

NAME: SLATER MALIH SAVALIA AGE: 23 MAJOR: PRE- LAW SENIOR @ LEX POSITION: A DADDY HOBBIES: givin 0 Fucks, living life to the full, writing, being an PI on his dad, spiting his family n causing problems as a FUCK U. BORN: LONDON, ENGLAND. SEXUALITY: A truE WILD BISEXUAL :”)

BACKGROUND:

So Slater was born in London, England however when he was younger he moved around a lot with his parents until they settled in LA. Mainly for his dads business and his mum had previously lived there too.

His mum was a travel writer which explains why they traveled a lot, his father runs a few escort agencies + brothels ( nevada only we do it legal here ) and also started up his own pornographic production company / film studio in LA. it would probably now be one of the biggest in the world. ( think vivid entertainment meets brazzers ) u know FILTHY RICH SHIT.

Both his parents were obviously away quite a lot, his dad ran so many businesses and hmm was hands-on lets say but the household was pretty calm when he was fairly young. his mum was super attentive and loving and just such an amazing role model and always wanted to take him with her to show him the world when she had to leave. i think he definitely was a mummas boy.

at about 8/9 however would’ve been when things kind of came crashing down for him. he really caught his dad cheating on his mum w/ one of the porn stars he hired from the studio. His dad would’ve really asked him NOT to tell him mum because it would break their family up. obviously, slater was like terrified of the chance of losing his family so he just pretended nothing ever happened.

he was so conflicted because he was keeping this huge secret and he had so much guilt but he didn’t wanna be the one to ruin things. Like his dad basically used him as a cover like expecting him to lie for him for a long time. it would’ve really eaten away at him. like it would’ve not been a one-time thing, but slater was in denial for sure.

i think one day slater would’ve slipped up in one of his lies for his dad and his mum ended up fighting out what happened and it was such a mess. it would've led to their divorce and god that was.. SOO messy. they defs didnt have a prenup and like the custody.

I think lowkey he was miserable being with his dad, he had so much resentment and sadness there. he would’ve been okay being with his mum the whole time.

His dad was really the type of parent that would use his kids against each his ex wife like they would use slater to pass on messages and being like no u can’t have him for that day etc etc And not taken slater into consideration.

his dad though really tried his absolute best to bring his mum down which was sooo sad to see, like watching her get put through the ringer by his dad and she just became a bit of a shell of who she was, because he obviously had more than enough money to do it and didn’t want her to see a dime of it even tho he.. RLLY BE LIVING THE HIGH LIFE.

slater would’ve just been back and forth between them both up until he was about 15 when his mum, unfortunately, passed away due to drugs. which was SO UNEXPECTED. i think there was definitely a lot more to it, like she definitely was self-medicating to help go through the still pending divorce. which would’ve lasted years.

anyways losing his mum devastated slater because truly she was like a best friend to him, she was. he always enjoyed the weeks at his mums more than his dad and now he knew he’d be stuck there.

he fights a lot with his dad still about everything that happened and what he did, he blames him for it and putting a LITERAL KID in the middle.

anyways though since the separation his dad had like a myriad of “ girlfriends” around who were probably all young enough to be like a step sibling tbh. he never took to any of them until his stepmom. who shockingly he actually really likes. shes one thing keeping his family together atm.

Anyways as you can imagine slaters dads business was huge and his dad is truly raking in the money but slater has always felt uncomfortable spending or even benefiting off it which is why he’s extremely secretive considering he knows where it comes from and he doesn’t exactly support his dad let alone he doesn’t want to have to explain that to people and get them looking into his family.

his father has really tried and put up this front though as if he’s a huge family man now and is conservative and super religious and smh that pissed off slater to the max. he’s like that dont make no fucking sense..

when he high school hit though they were going to country clubs all that shit slater hated basically. he truly didn’t mind acting out just to spite his dad knowing hey your a family man what are you gonna do about it??

this drove his dad so crazy and only meant more rules were put on him, it was about the only attention his dad gave him.

when hey fight though its really wild, you know slater throws it in his dads face basically just some fucking pimp and exploits people and he’s never gonna do that and he’d rather have nothing than follow in his footsteps

i think his dad has been fined multiple times for some shady shit going on in his businesses. plus its been common knowledge in the depths of the industry they heavily provide them w/ alcohol drugs etc. probably has had an issue with the treatment of the people hes hired. lawsuits. there's more under the surface that even slater doesnt know.

there would’ve been a bit of a scandal where his dad employed one of his dumbass country club friends daughters aka someone even slater knew to star in one of his adult films

but regardless like he knew he really was fortunate he lived an extremely privileged life, like he would be set for life, could sit do nothing and its good. he just never had a huge interest in it unlike his father who really always said that he would take over everything someday and it would turn into a huge family business. and he was like yikes someone come tell him.. no thanks.

His dad and him definitely had a rocky relationship after his moms death, he didn’t parent very much and just left his stepmom in so many uncomfortable situations but honestly

He saw her more as a friend though then a mum but she was the best parental figure he’s ever even had. She’d genuinely try so hard to make sure his dad was acting like one like telling him he’s going to his sons gigs or else even though slater knew his dad would come for 2 seconds to appease his wife then leave.

But growing up he’s always been super careful of who’s around him and who he lets into his life probably as a result of how secretive his family has always instilled in him to be.

Like his dad keeps saying we’re family we come first, and he never wanted slater to be sharing that with people about what they did.

But he has such a resentment to his dad, like he thinks he’s a mess he has a wife he doesn’t give a fuck about a son he doesn’t see, he does god knows what he just is so convinced he can’t turn out like him ever.

I think people genuinely think he must not come from money because the amount of people who have ever met his parents or seen his house is a handful if that.

Like he’s always hanging out at other people’s places and just he’s never been really extravagant unless its to purposely spite his dad yikes. that comes from anger.

Like he really got himself a job even though his dad said he could come work for him just cause he was like yeah I don’t want to run ur dumb company and make money off it u pos?

His dad has definitely been investigated a few times for shady practices. slater definitely started looking into law for that reason, like he genuinely thought he wants to actually be able to put guys who screw the system and own huge corporations and think they can pay outta anything in jail.

meanwhile his dad thought great a lawyer who can defend our family business smh so he supports him He has no clue slater would rather take him down.

hes on the dl investigating his dad himself. who wanna help.

PERSONALITY

losing his mom AND one his best friends showed him that he needs to really do everything he wants to and in that moment which does make him selfish at times

i think he has abandonment issues, i think like when his best friend who was kinda the reason he came to lex, happened to pass away also triggered that again ( TBD WHY im leaving this open for plots ) and that really shook him all over.

he really almost feels cursed at this stage.

he was pretty sheltered tbh because his dad wasn’t trusting AT ALL and at first was homeschooled until High school so he didn’t exactly grow up outgoing or being able to have many people at his place or tell them about his life.

i think theres not many people who know he’s related to his dad business, even tho his dad business iS HUGE and legit is his last name. and hes like yeah ha coincidence right??? not my dad at all.

He’s super fucking blunt though like he may be secretive with his personal life but his ass does not hold back which has gotten him into way too many problems.

He just feels like he grew up lying about so much, his dad was like we don't want people taking advantage of you if they find out who you are and use things against me.

he hated that and all the secrets about his dad he kept so don’t expect him to hold back on feelings or thoughts back at all

LOVES to spite and piss his dad off even if that means 30+ students at his dads place during a business meeting lets do it.

He acts a lot without thinking like he sucks at planning anything and a lot of time he seems a little flighty and that he doesn’t take things serious enough esp his relationships

.He’d really go above and beyond though for anyone who’s proven to him that they can be trusted like he’s been known to be all in he either gives it everything or nothing so he goes extravagant

will try everything once.

wild child tm.

his ass was kinda like living it up. he’s like on the brink of i dont want to just use my dads money but he’s like if i am though i wanna use it to actually do something decent, like get a law degree and be something, travel like his mum did. hes obsessed with the thought of like following in her footsteps BUT HE. NEVER ADMITS IT.

feelings who are u?

He’s definitely a realist and a little bit cynical too, like he’s seen way too much shit to really have some ideal look on life.

He doesn’t believe in some fairytale or things just happen for a reason or really in fate or anything like that.

Like he doesn’t think love fixes everything and someone can be your happiness at all . hes like clearly its only problems so.

He’s only ever really had one serious relationship and a bunch of other casual things but that was just nothing to him

He’s not closed off to them but he picks and chooses what he gives, but he’s just doubtful how someone’s gonna mix well into his life

He definitely seems aloof and a bit cold but I mean after a drink and 5 minutes he’ll be picking your brain on just about anything

loves writing in general, usually lyrics and music though.

secretly Loves a good midnight dnm overlooking the water with a trusted friend

Awesome at getting himself out of situations he can be pretty convincing lbr

lowkey has abandonment issues.

connections: donnt say im trash i know.

extra drama - his STEP sibling. aka child of his step mom.

his best friends sibling, aka the one who passed away :”(

someone whose mum dated his dad WILD.

A TABOO FLING OR CRUSH, basically he got with someone he shouldn’t of, we can decide reasons HOWEVER I’D LOVE if the other chara was the ex of his friend who passed away. HED FEEL LIKE SHIT for having feelings. the angst. and the we cant do this its wrong.

I mean... someone who actually WORKS FOR HIS DAD. i would die, could be an escort, a sex worker, someone who is signed to his dads production company, can be a pornstar or more like a cam star too.

someone who is a huge tease and rlly makes his ass beg to be with them. make him work for it honey.

ooo a really GOOOOD friend and they’ve always been “ platonic” but theres this weird sexual tension and they both know it, but like ooo it could risk the frienndship n makee it weird and like ugh.

like someone whose parents hates them hanging around w/ slater bc of his family, maybe bc they ran in the same circles from back home but they just.. cant stay away from each other.

someone hes kinda dated but they realised we’d be better off as friends even tho weve seenn each other naked, it was fun.

One of the people from back home that found out all about his entire family when the scandal was exposed. They could’ve been friends or enemies.

AN ex!! pls he defs has broken some hearts or THE ONE WHO BROKE HIS :) IF U DO THIS U WILL GET SO MUCH LOVE

An enemy Maybe someone against his family or someone he just can’t stand!

THE damn girl his fucking dad tried to employ to be in his damn movie! My ass would do wild shit for this one wild WILD SHIT.

unrequited love, someone's heart he broke without even realising it

A confidant someone he can really confide in tell-all his dumbass shit too, like his protective ass would really care for this person

Someone who’s into music as much as him pLS!! like someone who can just jam with him late nights

He needs that dnm kinda friend 😂

A fwb that’s self explanatory:)

RIDE OR DIES etc

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS.

ANYTHING IM SOOO OPEN FOR PLOTTING

#lex.intro

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tisthenightofthewitch · 6 years ago

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The Whispering Walls of Tobias Forge

“I am all eyes

I am all ears

I am the wall

And I’m watching you fall

Because faith is mine.”

From “Faith” by Ghost

What is the path to Satanism?

I must confess to knowing next to nothing about Satan, and therefore very little about how one may come to practice Satanism. My most vivid image of all things Satanic is being terrified watching Robert DeNiro’s portrayal of Lucifer in Angel Heart (1987). And I suspect DeNiro’s depiction is consistent with many people’s view of Satan – an entirely evil being whose sole purpose is to tempt humans to commit horrific acts, and then revel in the sadistic pleasure of being able to torture their immortal souls for eternity.

Yet as I researched the concept of Satan further, I found that Satan may take on different meanings for different people. For some, Satan is something of a cautionary tale -- a tragic figure whose own ambition caused him to be thrown out of Heaven. Others view Satan as more of a spiritual concept – the tendency for humans to be tempted by their own natural instincts such as lust, hatred or greed. And still others view Satan as almost a sad, comical and cartoonish figure – something to be laughed at rather than feared.

But for Tobias Forge, the lead singer and songwriter of the Grammy-nominated band Ghost, Satan came to represent something very different – a symbol of a rebellious libertarian-style individuality and non-conformity. As such, Forge sees his path to Satanism as a celebration rather than a condemnation of his humanity.

To understand Forge’s journey to Satanism, it is important to consider what appears to make him tick – a seemingly non-stop lust for imagination, exploration and creativity. And perhaps just as Satan was considered by many to be the highest of all angels in heaven, so Forge was initially in awe of Christianity as a spiritual vehicle.

Forge explained how his mother was instrumental in fostering his open-minded approach to the world. “My mom is very liberal. She has never been religious … spiritual but not religious. However she worked in art, and had a very avid interest in art and culture. So she presented church to me as more of an archeological or more museum-like institution … more from a historic perspective,” Forge told me. “She took me to Paris for example. And in addition to going to the Louvre and seeing art, we definitely went to Notre Dame and places like that because it was part of the art experience. And I was always very in awe of … all of those churches … So from my mom’s side that whole thing was very interesting and enthralling and very enticing.”

“Religion was more of a fictional art explosion.”

One church in particular that inspired awe in Forge was the Linkoping Domkyrka. “Even in my hometown of Linkoping where I grew up … the Church we had was very lavish – very boasty. So it ticked most of the boxes of big imposing Christianity. And I love being there if I’m in town … because it’s just this haunting place,” Forge explained. “The walls are just whispering there – literally because people engraved things in the stone. It goes back to the 1700’s when kids were in there for Bible school and you see someone engraving his name and it says something like ‘June 3rd 1772.’

“Seeing that when you were a kid was like, ‘Wow a message from ancient days.’”

Forge’s cultural experience included film and books that often offered an alternative and darker perspective on spirituality. “Not only did we read a lot at home, we also watched a lot of films. So I had already seen a lot of films that were about the crucifixion and the temptation of Christ, like Bible history and the Ten Commandments – stuff like that,” Forge recalled. “And I started watching horror films and you obviously have the Devil very present – The Exorcist, The Omen – all these dark powers … And religion – and more specifically because I grew up in a Christian country, Christianity – was of interest.

“Because it was just a fantastic story and it was ancient and it was filled with a lot of drama.”

More, Forge had access to music – particularly rock music – at an early age. Forge credits his brother with his music education. “My brother gave me my first records when I was about three or four years old, because he bought a lot of records. And he was very nice because he gave me the records he thought I’d like more. My first records were Kiss’s Love Gun, Twisted Sister’s Stay Hungry, and Motley Crue’s Shout at the Devil. That had immense influence on me,” he described. “When I was 8 years old I was already very interested in music. I already had my own records. I already had my own guitar. I already played guitar. I was already into many of the things that to this day I’m still deeply influenced by… a lot of 60’s music – the Doors, the Kinks, Pink Floyd and the Rolling Stones … You can go to a galaxy far, far away. And you can go into the Pink Floyd world and you can travel to Hyde Park in 1969 and watch the Rolling Stones pay tribute to Brian Jones.

“And it was a bigger, tasteful, stronger world that was so far away from the world that I lived in.”

And so it was that at an early age Forge viewed the world as one giant place to celebrate his free spirit – to explore, imagine and create. And he saw religion as a potent vehicle – along with various art forms – of nurturing his curiosity. But things changed for Forge when he encountered people whose practice of Christianity seemed geared more towards smothering rather than facilitating his spirit.

“I regarded certain people in my life … and school as handicapping … limiting. Throughout my childhood there were examples of the Christian people that I met – people who were in one form or another were devoted to any church or congregation. They were more often than not -- not very nice people. They were actually quite mean and condescending,” Forge explained. “Whereas I found my stereo and my VCR and my mom and the comfort of our home was this great universe of imagination where you can tap into whatever.”

“That made me look for other religious elements.”

Forge described his encounter with a teacher whose approach to Christianity felt more like servitude rather than support. “My first teacher … she was extremely strict, mean and deeply religious. I don’t think she followed the school curriculum – how many religious hours we were supposed to have … I remember reading a lot of Bible history. She was definitely a very authoritative woman. And she liked discipline. And she didn’t like rebellious cursing kids,” he explained. “I was pretty foul mouthed. I was rebellious … and I questioned things. So I think we collided at first. She didn’t like me and I did not like her. And that pretty much screwed up my whole school, because I lost interest. Not in learning – but in going to school. I didn’t like the idea of teachers … and she was against me and everything that I stood for. I was looking for freedom … and she was against that.

“And she definitely became the symbol for Christianity and not being very nice.”

Unfortunately, Forge had a similar experience with his stepmother, who Forge feels resented him as interfering her relationship with his father. “When they got together, he had this newborn kid. I was in the way of course. And she was deeply in love with my dad. And when you’re in love with someone you want to get on with the rest of your life together as soon as possible – no obstacles. And I was an obstacle,” he described. “She was also a symbol of the not-so-nice Christian society. In one way they were proclaiming to be advocates for being nice, and kindness and understanding, whereas I saw nothing of that.”

“And that started an interest in looking for the dark side.”

Soon, Forge started exploring Satanism as a form of spiritual rebellion against what he considered the oppressive behavior of some of the Christian people in his life. As Forge tells it, he was in many ways primed for this path not only by being open-minded and imaginative in general, but also specifically by the music that he listened to throughout his life.

“As a young teen, Satan, and the idea of some sort of world that you could be in touch with that could empower you was very much the symbol for freedom … “I guess more so than I had already been introduced to by Motley Crue and Gene Simmons and Darth Vader,” he said. “When adolescence was knocking, there are another set of emotions that come into play. And the idea of the Devil and the idea of dark powers from beyond that continue in any way or form is a very interesting thought for a twelve year old who wants to lose his virginity, and who would like to defend himself against the bigger kids and who is also a big worshipper of rock music. And it couldn’t have been more of a fitting marriage. Everything sort of coincided.

Forge’s interest in Satanism coincided with a cultural trend towards more extreme forms of metal – particularly black metal in which the themes were more overtly Satanic. “I think in 99.9% of every so-called Satanist in the last 50 years, you would find that the vast majority of them have been introduced to the Devil via music. And it usually happens at a certain age as well. And I would say that comes from bedazzlement,” Forge said. “And it was also the early 90’s – so that was the rise of the death metal and black metal movement in Europe and in the world I guess. Especially in Sweden and Norway, it was a big thing. And it was just right up my alley. And it became such a powerful way of expressing myself, and how to not only deviate and differentiate myself from the norm and normal people, but just like hand in glove with my way of seeing the world.”

As time went on, Forge felt that his issues were more with organized religion, which he appears to shun, as compared to spirituality, which he embraces. “Most people that I know that have been in a similar mindset. It’s definitely grounded in the will to expand and not implode. And I think most of us – people like myself – are leery of linear, organized religions because it’s limiting,” He described. “Those people that tried to tell me the order of the world from a religious point of view – they tried to steer me away from believing. They tried to steer me away from feeling those feelings that I want or should have -- feelings that I got through Dee Snider – “I Wanna Rock,” “We’re Not Gonna Take It.” Or “Shout At The Devil” -- Motley Crue. They tried to steer me away from that – they didn’t want me to believe in anything other than what they said. It goes against imagination. You’re not supposed to have imagination.

“You’re supposed to read up on someone else’s imagination.”

Forge makes it clear that he does not dismiss religion outright – and in fact still struggles with understanding many of the religious concepts he learned as a child. “I am not against the idea of believing. I am not an atheist … The whole institution of Christianity being based on that book, being based on the premise that he was conceived out of nowhere -- it’s kind of hard to believe,” Forge described. “But on the other hand, I do believe in the idea of a historic person named Jesus that was a kind of chill dude who was just telling people to chill and be nice to each other. And he got penalized for that. So I’m not dismissing the whole thing as bullsh*t. But I definitely believe that tormenting other people because of the Bible and for that to be – for lack of a better word, Gospel.

“I think that is not very nice.”

For now, Forge is content exploring much of his Satanic spirituality through his work with Ghost – often taking on confrontational stage personas as “Papa Emeritus” and “Cardinal Copia.” These challenging themes are so present in Ghost’s music and live show that the band has been labeled “occult rock.” As Ghost has just released its fourth full length studio album Prequelle and is in the midst of a world tour, Forge is aware of how he is now walking in the footsteps of the bands that had so deeply influenced him.

“It’s funny how the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree. I’ve gone full circle being in a shock rock band nowadays, running around shouting at the devil and telling people to stay hungry and shooting love guns.”

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#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia

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dabble-writes · 6 years ago

Text

The Magician and I- (1)

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Pairing:

Yoongi/Reader

Summary:

Suga is a wish-granting magician. He grants wishes—for the price of your most prized possession.

Your parents and brother died tragically in a plane crash and you visit Suga to grant your wish to bring them back to life...but instead you become his assistant.

Now you’re thrust into a world of magic and the mysterious being known as Suga.

Tags:

Fantasy, romance, comedy, a bit of a slow burn, angst

Warnings:

Mentions of death, strong language

CHAPTER 1: WHO IS SUGA?

You knew instantly you were in a dream.

Strange, you thought, I never have such vivid dreams.

You looked around you and recognized that you were in your home—the home you lived before the accident. It was unchanged, and you were marveled at how your mind remembered every detail.

“Y/N!”

You turned around and was met with the vision of your mother.

“Mom!” You cried as you ran up to her and gave her a tight hug.

She chuckled, “Oh my, what’s gotten you this excited?”

You could barely speak as you sobbed quietly against her shoulder. She felt so soft and warm, like she really was alive and here in your arms. It was so vivid you can even smell her familiar scent, which made you choke.

“There, there.” She rubbed your back, trying to soothe you, “I’m here.”

You reluctantly step away so that you can see her face again, “Mom, are you really here?”

She gave you a warm smile, “Of course, darling.”

“Then I wish I never wake up.” You said honestly and she brought up her hand to stroke your cheek.

“You are so strong, know that I’m always proud of you.”

This made you cry.

“Please don’t cry, honey, I have something I need to tell you.”

You felt the world start to shift around you and you scrambled to grip unto this dream.

“No wait, Mom, tell me!”

Her face became more blurry as her voice seem to be muffled, like your head was underwater.

“Go find the magician, Suga.”

“What?”

“Suga, he will help you.”

You reached out for her but you just grabbed at air, “No! Mom, don’t leave!”

“Go and ask for a wish. He…and you…”

“And what? Mom what are you talking about?” You asked, panicked, but you couldn’t hear her now and everything was spinning.

“MOM!” You cried as your eyes flew open, tears running down your cheeks.

It took a moment for you to orient yourself as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

About three months had passed since the accident, but it was still a fresh wound for you. You look around at the unfamiliar room, so different from the room you were used to for the last twenty years.

It unnerved you to have such a vivid dream, you still could feel her lingering touch where she stroked your cheek.

You then remembered what she said to you and you were puzzled by the message.

Who is Suga?

“Maybe he’s a long lost relative or something.” Your best friend, Hyelin, said and you shook your head.

“I doubt that’s what it is.”

“What did your mom meant that he’s a magician? Like the one-that-pulls-rabbits-from-hats kind of magician? They are all con artists, you know.”, She looked thoughtful as she took a sip from her coffee.

You rubbed your temples, “I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve been having that same dream for a month now and it’s kind of freaky.”

“Do you think it’s a sign? From your mother?”

“Probably not.” You answered, “Maybe my mind is making up things because I miss them so much.”

Hyelin’s smile dropped, “Right, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. I’m sorry for bringing her up.”

You smile sadly, “It’s fine, you didn’t brought her up, I did by mentioning the stupid dream. I just…it just feels weird…without them…you know? I keep waking up, expecting to smell my mom’s cooking. I keep thinking that I’m going to hear my father’s voice asking to come take our daily walk or that each knock at my door is my annoying brother coming to tease me. There’s just so much I took for granted with them, and in one moment it’s all…gone.”

There was a pause and you realize you made the conversation awkward.

“I’m sorry, Hyelin, this was supposed to be a fun meeting to cheer me up and here I am, bringing the mood down.”

“It’s fine, y/n, you don’t have to appear strong all the time.”

“Thanks, Hyelin.” You smiled and squeezed her hand, “I don’t know how I would have gotten through these months without you.”

“What kind of friend will I be if I didn’t? Now enough with the somber mood, you’re right, today was supposed to cheer you up. As your good friend it is my obligation to distract you at least for a little bit.”

You laughed, “Yeah, it’s just this dream. It just puts me in a strange mood.”

“What you need is closure.” Hyelin said and took out her laptop, “Your mind will probably not let it go until you find out the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“Is Suga a real person? Is he or she really a magician? And finally, can they really grant your wish?”

“Hyelin, you can’t possibility think that the dreams were message that held some truth in it?”

Deep inside though, you wished it was true because then you could make the wish that can make your life right again.

“Listen, y/n,” Hyelin said as she typed on her laptop, “there’s only one way to find out: by googling his name.”

You rolled your eyes, “It can’t be that easy.”

“Never underestimate google.” Hyelin said solemnly, “Now how do you think it’s spelled?”

You gave her an incredulous look, “How am I supposed to know?”

“Fine we will go with S-U-G-A. ‘Suga…magician’.” She typed as she said those two words.

You huffed, “You’re probably going to get a sugar daddy magician or something like that.”

Hyelin laughed, “Don’t be a hater, y/n—oh wait, this looks promising!”

Curious, you peered over her shoulder and snorted.

“Wow this website is so obviously old.”

“Stop it,” Hyelin chastised, “look, it says ‘Have a wish that needs to be granted? Visit Suga, the wish-granting magician.”

“Hyelin, this is written in comic sans, how much can you trust this website? This interfacing and graphics are making my eyes bleed.”

“Ok, but how much of coincidence is this? You get a dream for a month about a magician called Suga that grants wishes and he actually exists.”

“Uh, correction: he claims to be a magician that can magically grant wishes. Do you not see anything shady about this?”

You just couldn’t believe your friend was actually believing this bullshit website. Not to mention you are kind of peeved that the website doesn’t seem to have been updated since 2001.

“Oh my god, this gets even better.” Hyelin said, obviously not listening to you, “the address they give here is right here in Seoul! Y/N, this is obviously destiny.”

“Let me see.” Sure enough, not only the address was in Seoul, it was like a 10 minute walk from your apartment. “Wow, that’s freaky.”

“Or…fate. You have to at least check it out, y/n.”

You sighed, knowing Hyelin is persistent and won’t let this go. Plus, you were just a tiny bit curious and wanted to check this Suga out.

“Fine, I’ll go on my way home. Do you want to join me?”

“Of course!” Hyelin said excitedly, “How often do you get to meet a magician who can grant wishes?”

You decided not to not break her bubble and looked back at the screen so you can take note of the address properly. You then noticed fine print in the bottom of the screen and squinted.

“ ‘The price for a wish is your most prized possession, so be warned’—what the heck?”

“Where does it say that?”

“There”, You pointed at the screen and she squinted.

“Wow, your eyesight is good, I probably wouldn’t have caught that. It also doesn’t help that it’s yellow text on a white background…”

“Hyelin, do not realize what that means? My prized possession?That is some serious bullshit.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“What?”

“Your prized possession?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t know, I used to be so sure…but I lost it.”

“Wha—oh.” Her face fell, “Well it’s not like you’re going to make a wish anyway, right?”

Right, you were just going to check out if Suga is legit or not and why your mom sent you to him in a dream.

“Right.” You said, but were not so convinced.

“Plus I thought you thought it was bogus anyway.” Hyelin teased you and you laughed.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Let’s go and check this Suga out.”

Why does his name have to be so ridiculous?, you thought, it’s probably not even his real name.

“Alright lemme just pack up my laptop.”

You nodded as you finished your iced coffee. Hyelin’s phone dinged and she looked at her phone.

“Oh my god, I forgot!” She exclaimed as she started to text furiously.

“What happened?”

“My dad is back from his business trip today! We are supposed to meet him in the airport in half an hour.” She looked at you and bit her lip, conflicted.

“Hyelin, it’s fine—go to your father. I know how much you miss him.”

“But—“

“I’ll be fine going on my own, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Thank you so much, y/n! I’ll see you tomorrow then” We hugged goodbye as she ran out of the café.

You’re a little disappointed that you’re going by yourself, since this Suga guy could be a creep.

Thankfully your parents made you take martial arts classes as a child, so you know that if things take a turn for the worst you’re able to defend yourself pretty well. Not to mention that you developed fast reflects because of Jin, your brother; he loved sneak attacks and claimed he was “training you”. For what, you never knew.

You reached the building where Suga’s business supposedly resided and was surprised that it looked like a very nice office building instead of some mystic hole-in-the-wall shop with mood lighting.

Maybe it’s an outdated address, you thought, that website was old after all. Maybe some company bought the building, knocked it down, and erected this fancy building instead. You were about to leave when the doorman called to you.

“Hello miss, do you need anything?”

You blushed, knowing you looked very out of place, “Oh um, I was trying to find someone by the name of Suga but I think I got the wrong address—“

“We get that a lot, don’t worry. He should make it more clear. He’s on the 5th floor.”

You blinked, “Wait, this is the right address? Someone by the name of Suga has an office here?”

The doorman chuckled, “I hope you find what you’re looking for, miss.”

You gathered your thoughts together and gave him a smile, “Thank you so much for your help.”

As you walked to the elevator, you admired the prestige condition of the lobby. The floors looked recently polished, it looked so shiny you were afraid to make a mark on it. This was honestly the opposite of what you were expecting and was very nervous.

Who the heck is Suga? Is he making so much money scamming people that he can afford to have an office space in this building?

You entered the elevator and pushed the floor, trying to get yourself together. The door opened to a hallway with only one door. You walked up to the door and saw the sign “Suga, Magician. Monday to Saturday 4-10 PM”.

What unusual hours, you thought and checked the time, I should be fine since it’s 4:10 PM.

You didn’t know what to expect when you open the door, but it sure wasn’t a classy waiting room. Everything was so shiny, you were almost blinded by the opulence of it all. You went up to the window, but saw no one behind the counter.

Strange, you thought. You then noticed a bell in front of you and a sign that says, ‘Ring Once For Assistance’ in fancy script.

You rang it once and waited a moment. Nothing happened. You rang it a few more times and wondered if whoever was supposed to answer it heard it. You were about to ring it again when the door flew open, making you jump.

“What part of ‘ring once’ do you not understand?” The man in front of you said in a gruff voice, giving you a dark look.

The man was handsome, probably the most handsome man you’ve seen besides your brother. His glare didn’t mar his delicate features, his skin so beautiful and pale. His hair was a unique shade of mint that surprisingly suited him very well. He wore a slick business suit that obviously came from an expensive brand.

“If you’re finished with checking me out can you tell me what you want?”, He asked with a bored tone, making you blush.

Unlike your brother, who was always joking by how attractive he looks (he even called himself “worldwide handsome”), this man just said it in a matter-of-fact way.

“Are you Suga?”

He gave you an unamused look, “Yes, are you here to wish for something?”

You hesitated, how crazy would it be if you told him your dead mother told you in a dream to visit him? Your mom said to make a wish so maybe you should just make a wish…

“Um…”

“Follow me.” Suga simply said and walked back into the room he came from. He didn’t wait up for you and went into an office. The office has a whole wall that was just windows and showed the beautiful skyline of Seoul. You stared at it in awe as he just sat down on a seat and regarded you.

“Sit down.”

You nodded and awkwardly sat down to the nearest chair, fiddling with your hands nervously as he just studied you.

“Tell me your wish, I don’t have all day.”

Suga looked so different than your stereotypical fortune-teller or shaman. For one, he looked like a business man and didn’t speak in flowery language. He was curt to the point of it being rude. He also looks like he couldn’t care less with what you had to say, his face barely showing any emotion. His voice was gruff, like he just woke up from a nap. Still, there was a certain aura about him that makes him…not ordinary.

“You can grant me anything at all?”

“Yup, just know that the price is your most prized possession.”

Fuck it, you thought, what harm can it do to tell him what you want most?

“Can you bring back my dead parents and brother?”

There was a silence and then he replied, “I don’t know what you heard before you came here but I can’t grant wishes that mess with existence, that’s more God’s area and I don’t want to get into that mess.”

You look at him in disbelief and anger, the anger mostly at yourself for letting yourself believe him. You had a tiny spark of hope that your family can be brought back to you and it just fizzled out in smoke.

You forced yourself to not to cry, “How convenient.”

“Is there anything else instead?”

You snorted, everything else seems trivial, “What, so that you can say that you can’t do it? I can’t believe I stooped so low to ask some sham for a wish like a fucking five-year old.”

You stood up and saw that he still had that expressionless face; you hated that face and wanted to get some reaction out of him. You saw a vase next to you and pushed it, making it fall with a crash. He didn’t even flinch which made you even angrier.

“Fuck you, you’re just a fake magician, I’m outta of my mind to visit such a place.” You started to leave as you mutter, “Forget it, I hated the idea of giving up my prized possession anyway, bye.”

But you found that you couldn’t move a single step, as if you were frozen to the ground. You panicked.

“What the—“

“Wait.”

Suga lazily got up and walked up to you as you continued to struggle to move your legs. “Coming here was your decision, but I decide when you get to leave.”

“You’re doing this! Let me go, you creep!”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that, seeing how I’m a ‘fake magician’.” He smirked at you as he threw your words back at your face and you were not amused at all.

“Let me go now, if you don’t I’ll—“

“You’ll do what?” He asked, “You don’t seem to understand your situation at all. Once someone has seen my face, they have to make a wish or…”

“Or what?” You asked and he took a step closer to you.

“Or you die.”

You started to panic. Oh my god, I can’t die. He looks like he would kill me too, he’s not bullshitting. Why did my mom send me to this psycho? Oh my god I’m gonna die—

The world started to spin and before your world turned black you just saw that jerk’s emotionless face.

You woke up saw that you were on the cold floor. You remembered what happened and realized that you fainted. You looked up and saw Suga sitting again. You tried to get up but of course you couldn’t move a muscle.

Asshole.

“Let me get up.”, you said with gritted teeth.

“Will you be civilized and not break things again?”

You looked at where you dropped the vase but saw that it was repaired without a single scratch in its original place.

“Fine.” You muttered and you were able to get off the floor. You glared at him and took a seat.

“Let’s make a deal.” Suga said and you narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious.

“What do you mean by a ‘deal’?”

Do I have to sell my soul to him or something now? Just my luck.

“Since you don’t wanna make a wish or die, give me your body.”

“W-what?” You gasped out as you crossed your arms over chest defensively, “W-what do you mean by that?”

Just what kind of sick fuck is he? I shouldn’t have listened to some stupid dream—

He smirked as he stood up and walked towards you, “What I mean—“

“—d-don’t come any closer!” You exclaimed but he simply walked passed you and opened the door.

“—is that my assistant suddenly got pregnant and resigned. You are going to be working for me starting today.”

It took a moment to process what he said.

“Wait, what? Says who?”, You walked up to him and put your hands in your hips.

“Your service ends when you make your wish.” He looked at you, “Unless you have a wish in mind—besides the one you already said, of course.”

The bastard, he knew that was the only wish you really wanted. Nothing else is worth giving up your most prized possession. Plus, you’ve seen too many movies where wishes can go horrible wrong.

“I-I—“

“Well then, it’s settled.”

“Wait! I can’t work here! I’m a busy student, I have classes—“

“Just think of it as a part-time job, I don’t work mornings anyway.”

“No—!”

Suga turned to you and grabbed your chin, “You don’t think I’ll kill you?”

You looked into his cold eyes and knew he was serious. You bit your lip and tried not to cry, “Ok, fine.”

Suga let go of your chin, “Just sit behind the desk for now and greet whoever comes in—you can manage that, right?”

You grit your teeth, “Yes.”

You were cursing him out in your head as you went to sit behind the reception desk. It’s honestly your rotten luck that you know have to work under him of all people. You looked around your desk and sighed, there wasn’t even a computer! Then again, if the state of his website is any indication he’s totally technology inept. You were organizing the highlighters by color when a door opened and a smartly-dressed older man walked in. You straightened up and put on your customer service smile as he walked up to you.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

He didn’t smile at you or greet you, “Is this the magician Suga’s office?”

You forced yourself to keep the smile as you remember that asshole, “Yes it is.”

“Is he available?”

“Let me check his schedule,” you said sweetly and looked at the planner in front of you that you knew was empty, “He is available. I’ll let you in then.”

You opened the door for him and led him to the office.

Those brand of clothes are expensive, he must be rich, you thought, I wonder what he came to wish for.

Suga was sitting behind his desk when you entered the room. He greeted the man with a handshake and you gave him a dirty look behind the man’s back, which Suga ignored.

“Do you want tea?” Suga asked the man and he said yes. Suga then turned to you, “Prepare some tea for this gentleman.”

You looked at him in shock but Suga gave you a pointed look and you gave him a gritted smile, “Sure! Tea coming right up, sir.”

It wasn’t until you left the office did you realize that he gave no indication how you were supposed to make the tea. Bastard.

You wondered through the hallway and found a kitchen. Does he live here or something? And started to go through the cabinets to find tea. Eventually you found that there was some tea that was already brewed and still hot, so you put a cup and the kettle on a tray and walked back to the office. I’m not going to serve any for that trickster.

You opened the door to find that they were in a middle of a conversation, so you were careful to be quiet.

“…wish for?”

The man spoke up, “Because of my own experiences with poverty, I’ve always been obsessed with making money, no matter the means. This was all for my only son, whom I never wanted to experience what I had to go through.”

You set the cup in front of the man and started to pour the tea, he paid you no mind. You saw that there was a photo of an attractive young guy on the table and figured that this must be the son he was talking about.

“For the sake of his future, I also went through the trouble to set him up with an acceptable match. But…without any consideration for me he went ahead and started to date a poor, unhealthy girl.”

You started to walk away, but when you mentioned that you paused. This doesn’t sound good at all.

“I’ve tried everything to separate them, but none of it worked and that’s why I’m here today. I heard you’d grant any wishes as long as it doesn’t mess with life’s existence.”

No, don’t tell me—

“So I’ll make my wish, it doesn’t matter if I go to debt—please split up my son and that horrible girl.”

You look at Suga in shock, surely he wouldn’t—

Suga seemed unfazed, “Your wish has been received. Those two people will definitely have to part.”

Does this guy have a conscious? Any morals? Your opinion of him, if possible, dropped even lower.

The man smiled, “Oh, thank you! How much do you require…?”

“I don’t take money.” Suga said simply, “But the moment your wish is granted I will take your most prized possession.”

The man looked a bit worried, “My most prized possession? It’s not money?”

“For the most part, humans live without actually knowing what’s most important to them. The most important thing to you isn’t money. The moment your wish is granted, you’ll understand exactly what that is.”

“…alright. Whatever it is, it won’t be a big deal..”

“Alright, then you need to sign the contract, I—“

You couldn’t hold your tongue for a second longer and set down the tray on the desk hard as you glared at Suga, “Why are you such an ass? Do you have any sense of decency whatsoever?” You then turned to the man, “Same goes for you, baldy—making such a thing as your wish! You should be ash—“ You felt lips move but no sound came from it. You gave Suga at dirty look, knowing that he did this to shut you up. The nerve!

Both men seemed unfazed as the man signed the contract and asked, “Then when will you…?”

“It will be granted at midnight.”

The man nodded, stood up, and held up his hand, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Suga shook his hand and the man walked pass you and left the office. You just looked at Suga in disbelief.

“You shouldn’t have interfered.”

You snorted and realized you were able to make sounds again, “You’d really grant such a wish? You think it’s just okay to grant any wish at all?”

He didn’t even looked up at you, “I don’t have any interest in human wishes to begin with. The only thing of importance is the precious possession I receive in return.”

Of course he wasn’t human, you thought, somehow that didn’t surprise you.

But still, granting a wish that will separate two people deeply in love…

“You’re truly evil.” You simply said, “I’ll stop that wish from coming true myself.”

He finally looked up, “Are you planning to kill me?”

“W-what?”

“Once a contract is made if the wish fails to be granted I’ll die.”, he simply said, like he was discussing the weather, “I have no intention of letting you get in my way. It may not look like much, but I stake my life every time I grant a wish.”

You were not amused at all, “An idiot who banks his life on such things deserves to die.”

Suga regarded you and there was a heavy silence. He then said, “Fine, then try it. If you really think you can. Let’s make a bet. If you succeed, I’ll release you from having to work for me.”

You were wary of making a bet with him, but this was so tempting. Not only will you be helping this couple, you could be free.

“But,” Suga continued, “if you fail, then you’ll remain in my employment until I get tired of you.”

Until he was tired of me?, you thought, I can be very annoying, he’ll soon grow tired of me.

For you, it was a win-win situation. You have to at least try to help this couple, you don’t think you’ll ever forgive yourself if you don’t try.

“Deal.”

You managed to worm the address of the apartment where the son and his fiancee is living from Suga.

Gotta hurry, there’s only four hours until midnight.

You were running to the direction of the address and slammed into a guy so hard you both feel on the floor. You sat up and looked over to see if the guy was alright but he was unconscious. Panicking, you rush over him and try to get him to wake.

“Oh shit—I’m sorry! Please don’t die, wake up!”

You heard strange sounds coming from him and paused, was that—-?

“Don’t worry,” the boy said, “This isn’t the sound of death, it’s my stomach growling.” He gave a small laugh and you were relieved that he was okay.

You then looked at his face and narrowed your eyes.

“Do I know you?”

He frowned as he slowly sat up, “I don’t think so…”

Wait—he’s the son! He looks just like the guy in the picture! Wow, it’s my luck that I run into him here.

Before you can say anything, he gave out a cry of disappointment, “Oh no! The dinner I made…”

You looked to see what he was looking at and saw a lunch box knocked over and the food was all over the pavement. You grimaced and looked at the boy, who looked like he was a bout to cry.

“I made it just for her…and it was all the money I had left…”

His stomach growled again and he looked at you in embarrassment.

Scrambling for the opportunity, you bluttered out, “Let me make it up to you--let me buy you some food!”

His face lit up, “You would do that? I’ll greatly appreciate it...”

You helped him off the floor and you guys walked to the nearest convenience store.

“What’s your name? Mine is y/n.”

“Chan.” He answered.

“So, you mentioned a girl…?”

Chan lit up, “Yes! My fiancee, Jeonghwa, I love her so much. She’s a few years older than me, but I don’t mind.”

“How did you guys met?” You asked, curious. He obviously loves Jeonghwa so much, he is so animated talking about her.

“I was doing a summer internship at my dad’s hospital, my dad owns a hospital by the way, when I met Jeonghwa in the cafeteria. She was so beautiful and so sweet, I had to talk to her. It took me a while to impress her and make her see me as a man, but it was all worth it.”

“If your dad owns a hospital, how are starving now?” You asked, you can already guess what had happened though.

Chan’s face distorted to anger, “Yeah all my dad cares about is money. When he heard that I got engaged to Jeonghwa he threatened to cut me off. And when that didn’t work he kicked me out of the house and said the only way he would want to see my face again was if I broke up with her.”

You were shocked by how cruel his father was, “Wow, I’m so sorry. My parents are dead, but at least they were never like that.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Chan sighed, “My dad wasn’t always like this. Before my mom died he was actually really decent and actually cared about me. Afterwards though, he became obsessed with money.”

You fell silent and you paid for the food, “...Well at least I can help out in this little way.”

Chan lit up, “No, this is awesome--you didn’t really have to do this. We really appreciate it!”

You smiled at Chan’s beaming face, he was a good kid.

You guys continued to talk as you walked to the bad side of town and entered a worn looking apartment building.

“Jeonghwa, love, look—food!” Chan said excitedly as he burst through the door. It was a small one bedroom apartment, obviously very run-down, and a beautiful but frail woman was sitting on the bed.

“Where did you get all this food?” She then noticed your presence, “And who’s this?”

“It’s a funny story,” Chan replied as he started taking the food out and preparing it. He then explained how the two of you met, “She bought all this because she felt bad, noona.”

Jeonghwa frowned, “But Chan, you caused so much trouble for someone you don’t know. You’re really…” she then stopped and looked away.

Chan stopped his preparations, “You were going to call me young again, huh?”

“No, but when you do things like this I—“

“I’m not that young, I’ll work hard to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“What..?”

“I took a leave of absence from school—“

“What? You quit school?” Jeonghwa was obviously not happy and the couple obviously forgot that you were here because they were talking quite freely.

“No, I didn’t quit, I’m just taking a break—“

“That’s basically the same thing!”

“Look, I was kicked out of home so it’s not like I can afford to go to school anymore.”

“I told you not to worry about school. I’m better now and can work, I can support us.”

“Don’t say that! You barely recovered, how can you work?”

“I don’t want you to end up like me!” Jeonghwa cried, “A loser with no job or future.”

“Don’t say that.” Chan said, grabbing her hand, “You have a future.”

Jeonghwa was crying, “I don’t want to ruin yours though.”

Her tears made Chan’s eyes start to water, “You’re not ruining my future, noona!”

“Yes, I am!”

They were getting agitated and it was one line away from it becoming a full blown fight. You panicked, what if they end up breaking up? I have to do something…

“H-hey!” You called, getting their attention, “I can take care of the food, at least until you can afford it. My family died and now I get monthly income that’s more than enough, so I can help you.”

They both stared at you, then looked at each other.

“She must have hit her head really hard when she fell.”

“We must be very pitiful, huh?”

“She’s clearly not thinking well.”

“Clearly.”

Great, that had the opposite effect, “Look, look, I can really help—!”

They simply ignored me and Chan started to feed Jeonghwa.

“Eat this, since you haven’t eaten been able to eat in a few days.”

You kept trying to get their attention, but they seemed to be in their own little world.

No, I can’t fail…but they won’t even listen to me…, you thought.

“What about you…?” Jeonghwa asked.

Chan gave her a bright smile, “I already ate.”

Liar, you thought, if his stomach growling earlier was any indication.

Jeonghwa started to cough and Chan was instantly at her side, “Noona? Are you okay?”

She started to hug her stomach, “My stomach…it hurts…”

Chan started to panic as Jeonghwa fainted in his arms. He turned to you, “Y/N, what should I do?”

Tears started to well in his eyes and you quickly brought out your phone and called a taxi.

“We have to get her to the hospital fast.” You said and he nodded as he picked her up effortlessly.

The travel to the hospital was tense, Jeonghwa came back to consciousness but she was still feeling very weak and her stomach was still in pain.

She was carted into the emergency room and you had the task in trying to comfort Chan.

“I knew it wouldn’t last,” he mumbled, “this happiness. I knew sooner or later her sickness was going to be too much. I don’t know how I’m going to pay for this hospital bill.”

You again offered to help him, but he shook his head.

“Jeonghwa is right, it’s too much to ask for a stranger—you already did more than enough.”

Before you can argue about that, the doctor came out and Chan ran up to him.

“Well…?”

“Well the good news is that it’s nothing serious, she’s sick because you feed her such greasy food after days of not eating. But more importantly while I was running tests on her, I found out that her sickness has gotten much worse. If she doesn’t get surgery right away, she could die.”

Chan’s face fell, “But I can’t come up with the money right away…”

“I recommend you try to. Every minute is valuable.”

“But how could this be? Last time, you said she was getting better.”

“It’s perplexing to me too. It’s unusual for the patient to get worse in such a short time…”

Did Suga do this, you thought, the bastard, bringing Jeonghwa’s health into this—she could die!

You looked at the your phone and, sure enough, it was almost midnight. That son of a bitch, if she dies because of this…

You heard Chan sigh and looked up to him; he looked like he was debating something.

“There’s only one way...”

“What...?”

You noticed his father was there, and clenched your hands. Of course.

“You win,” Chan said solemnly, “If you can save her, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t see her.”

His father smiled, “I knew you’ll come around.”

“They said she’ll get better once she gets surgery.”

“I’ll make sure she’s healed.”

“Then I’ll do it, I’ll break up with her.”

“No.” You whispered and looked at your phone. Midnight on the dot.

Chan’s father also realizes it’s midnight and he stared at his son as his eyes widened in panic, “Wait—”

Chan looked at his father in confusion, but then he suddenly collapsed. His father tried to catch him but he too went to the ground, unable to support all the weight. He started to panic.

“Chan! No, not my son!” Medics started to swarm around them and Chan’s father collapsed.

You were shook by the whole scene, which happened so quickly. You knew somehow Suga was responsible for all this and wondered if Chan ended up being his most prized possession.

I have to find Suga, you thought as you ran out of the hospital and to the direction of Suga’s office. Things can’t end like this.

You couldn’t remember when was the last time you ran this much, but by the time you reached the lobby you were really out of breath. You were able to catch your breath a bit when you were in the elevator. When the elevator door opened, you ran up to his office. Suga was resting in the couch. It seems like your entrance woke him up and he was glaring at you.

You ignored this and said, “What did you do to them?”

He simply stared at you.

“Well?” You asked, losing your patience.

“I didn’t do anything, now let me go to slee—“

He started to close his eyes when you poked his cheek, “Chan and his dad. The one who asked for the wish today—what did you do to them?”

Suga glared at you, “Don’t touch me. And I didn’t do anything to Chan. As for the father, I didn’t do anything to him, strictly speaking.”

“Then why did they both collapse? Right when the wish was granted, they collapsed.”

Suga seemed to realize that I wouldn’t leave until he offered me an explanation and let out a sigh. He slowly got up and started to walk. You followed him, confused. He walked down the hallway and opened one of the rooms. It was a room filled with vases and boxes. He went towards the middle of the room where there was a floating crystal orb. “See for yourself, they’re fine.”

“What—?”

He waved his hand and in the orb there was an image inside the crystal ball. It was Chan and his father, who was in a hospital bed. They seemed like they were talking and you heard soft voices coming from the orb. You strained your ears to listen.

“—you’re alright!”, the father grabbed Chan’s hands, as if making sure he was right there in front of him. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Chan said awkwardly, “I was starved for so long that I must’ve gotten dizzy. But what happened to you? Do you feel fine? The doctor said you just collapsed because of stress.”

The father still looked shocked, as if he was trying to process everything, “Tell me, is that girl alright?”

Chan looked puzzled, “What?”

“Your fiancee—is she alright?”

“Y-yeah, they just finished the surgery on her and she should be recovering.”

“I’m glad that she’s doing better; you should go see her though.”

Chan looked so shook, “Wait, what? I thought you didn’t want me to see her again…”

“I know, but I while I thought you were gone I realized how silly I was being. You love her, right?”

“Y-Yes...”

“Then that’s all that matters. I was a fool before thinking that money will bring you happiness.”

“Father, I--” With tears in his eyes, Chan hugged his father, “Thank you.”

Confused at the scene in front of you, you turned to Suga.

“Why is he like that? You did do something to him after all.”

“I only took his most prized possession, as promised.”

“So then what did you—?”

“Greed” Suga answered, “Usually it’s a lie when parents say they do things in the kid’s best interest. He never did the things he did for his son, but because of his greed.”

You stood there in awe and looked back at the scene in the orb, “So what happens now?”

“Well since I took his greed away they’ll be happy, for now. But there’s always another type of greed that springs up eventually. Hopefully, he would learn his lesson by then.”

This guy, you thought, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

“Did you plan this from the start?”

“No.” Suga simply said, “I knew his son was the most important thing so I risked my life and took the next best thing. Fortunately, it worked.”

He studied the vase labeled ‘greed’ and you have to say you were a little impressed.

“Do you do that often? Instead of taking someone special from them you take something else that can be lost?”

Suga laughed, “Oh no, I have taken souls before—see that vase?” He pointed to a vase across the room, “That’s my collection of good looking guys.”

You stared at him to see if he was joking but he was as serious as ever, “Wow, you’re sick—I definitely can’t trust you.”

And to think I was so close to thinking he was a good guy, I should have known.

Suga just smirked, “It’s probably better if you don’t. Well since you lost the bet, you’ll be working for me until I get tired of you. Which could be tomorrow, could be fifty years from now—we’ll see.”

You inwardly sighed, he’s right—I’m probably going to see him for god knows how long. The very least we can be is civil so that we don’t have such a miserable time. You held out your hand.

“I dunno if you know, but my name’s Y/N. In any case, I’m sorry I told you to die.”

He just stared at my hand and said, “Ah, yeah…”

So rude!, you thought as you awkwardly brought your hand down, “Don’t just say ‘ah yeah’. I said my name, so you’re supposed to say yours back.”

“You already know my name.”

“No, I meant your real name.”

There was a slight paused, then, “Just call me Suga. There’s a curse on my real name, so if you use it you’ll get hurt.”

Ugh, nothing can be simple with him, you thought, why do I feel like this is only the start of some cruel plan the universe had thought up for me?

“Fine, Suga.”

You were still suspicious of him and his agenda, he was still an absolute jerk, but at least you’re not alone anymore.

#suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts x reader #magic!yoongi #magic!bts #suga angst #yoongi angst #the magician and I

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years ago

Text

Wan High Weeping (Part 34)

TFW when windows updates completely obliterates your laptops drivers and internal hardware and you’re stuck using your mom’s computer until she needs to take it back.

I present to ya’ll Fanfiction: Speed Round. I had to pump this thing out lightning fast so, apologies if the chapter isn’t as good. There was some stuff I wanted to add more details too but my mom was practically leaning over my shoulder.

It was all so overwhelming, really. TyLee felt almost as disoriented as she had during the party itself. Sure she had helped Katara but she couldn’t help but feel as though what happened had been partially her responsibility. If she would have only found the courage to speak up about her own mishap. Then Jet might have been locked up before he even had the chance to start spreading his sabotaging rumors. She wished that she had told someone, anyone. At least one person. And Katara had almost paid the price for her cowardice. She took a deep breath, she had to think about it different, had to focus on what she had done right, lest she eat herself alive with guilt. She had yelled at Chan, she had recorded enough to prove a case.

She only wished that she had caught Chan wailing on Jet too. Take care of two school terrors in one graceful sweep. But she had stopped recording and hid her phone instead. It was becoming apparent that she wasn’t much of a risk taker.

She sat quietly for a long while as the police filled out some paperwork. They let her hang onto her phone but she wasn’t in the mood for texting. She didn’t really have anyone to text. Mai had left her behind again, the girl was on a streak of doing so. Katara was busy in the hospital, probably still out cold. Sokka was in a holding cell, probably next to the one Jet would fill once he got the medical attention that he didn’t deserve. And Suki, she didn’t know her well enough to confide in her.

The door opened and she braced herself for a stream of uncomfortable questions. The man entered with a clipboard and a pen. He seated himself at the other end of the desk and laid his papers out. “Are you fine with answering some questions for me?”

TyLee nodded. Better to get things over with.

“From the beginning, can you describe the incident to the best of your ability tell me what happened last night.”

TyLee thought for a moment. She just hoped that it wasn’t too late. “Last night wasn’t the beginning.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to report another incident.”

The man inclined his head. “And what would that be?”

“Last year, I was…I was raped during a homecoming party, by the same guy from last night.”

“And why didn’t you report this?”

Her face crinkled unpleasantly. “I was scared.”

The man nodded, “mmhm.” The response of a skeptic. She wished that the police officer assigned to her was female. But he surprised her. “That will complicate things some, but if we can prove him guilty of the most recent assault we can probably get him for past crimes.” He paused. “Did you, by chance, seek any medical attention after your assault?”

“Sort of.” TyLee mumbled. “I bought a pregnancy test. I also went to have a check up, but I told the doctor that it was consensual.” She wanted to cry, if anything she had set herself up to fail.

The man nodded. “I’ll see to it that someone looks into that. It is my understanding that you have recorded evidence that will help us with the most recent case—and by extension, your own.”

“I do.” She replied.

“May I take a look?”

She handed him her phone.

“Sokka isn’t in too much trouble, is he?”

“He is an adult who had beaten a minor.”

“He was defending his sister!” She didn’t mean to take her anger out on the man who seemed to be on her side.

“Yes, this case has a lot of layers and grey areas. Which is why I’m going to need a lot of help here. Is it okay if I pull you out of class, on Monday? Perhaps a few other days as well.”

“That would be fine.”

“For now, we will bring you in as a witness. After this case is settled, we can talk about bringing you to court as the plaintiff.”

TyLee nodded, the offer was better than none at all. At least they would humor her.

.oOo.

Monday morning was drab and then hectic and then dull again. She drove herself to school, dwelling all too much on what she could have done. Homeroom with Kyoshi was a bore and did little to keep her mind from wandering. Wandering and replaying things that were mercifully fuzzy and then things that were so very painfully vivid. The sight of Katara laying topless and motionless haunted her almost more than the muddled sensory tidbits of her own assault. Time had taken at least some of the edge off of those memories. And an unhealthy dissociation from the event, did the rest. But the more she thought about Katara laying there, the easier it was to plaster her face and body onto the memory. She bit her lip and tried to focus on the autobiography assignment.

The assignment!

She had written all about the Halloween party in that notebook. For a moment she was thrilled, she had a paper copy of her account already written, and nearly right after everything had taken place. Her mind brightened again, because she recalled her diary. The diary she had been keeping since freshmen year. The diary she had written about her own case in.

She had dates.

Dates and times and details.

She almost wanted to throw her arms around Kyoshi for giving such a practical and useful assignment. Instead, when the bell rang, she settled for a cheerful thank you that aroused a befuddled expression and a very typically stiff Kyoshi-style you’re welcome.

As promised, she was taken to the office in the middle of fourth hour for more questioning, with any luck, she’d be free to go by fifth hour lunch. She detailed, to the best of her ability, the events that unfolded on Halloween. She watched officer Yu-Ron jot her words down. On occasions he would glance at his watch until eventually he said, “it looks like I’m going to have to send you back to class now, expect to be back for more questioning on Wednesday.” He paused. “Wednesday, we will wrap things up and if we need you for further investigation, we will call.” He pulled out a business card of sorts. “And if you need to call us, feel free.”

“I have something that could help you with your investigation. It’s a diary and it has dates and stuff.” TyLee informed. “I’ll bring it with me on Wednesday.”

Yu-Ron smiled. “Anything helps, you’re making this much easier. From the sound of it, this case will go pretty smoothly.”

At least on her end and Katara’s. She imagined that Sokka wasn’t out of the water and she felt awful for the man who should be back at his university.

She found her spot by the rest of her poms team. She was still getting used to their lively chatter and company. A struggle, but one that she needed to endure. She was tired of isolating herself. She hoped that some of their perkiness would rub off on her, help her get back to the old TyLee. With more intensity, she hoped that her dour attitude wouldn’t have them pushing her out.

But they bore with her.

They reminded her that she was handling things like a champ until she was beaming from ear to ear. Once again, she found herself glad that she hadn’t dropped the poms team altogether.

She did however, drop Mai.

During sixth hour she requested a seat change.

.oOo.

It was nice to not have to deal with police and a barrage of questions. She never thought that she would be so eager to see Zhao for math. Okay, so that might have been a stretch, somehow answering Yu-Ron’s questions was easier than answering Zhao’s. At least Yu-Ron didn’t make her feel like an idiot for wrong or insufficient answers. Zhao had well and earned his reputation as Wan High’s most hated teacher.

When the bell rang she kept an eye out for Katara, but the girl proved to be very elusive. She supposed that she didn’t blame her for not stopping to talk to anyone. She probably didn’t have the energy for it. Hell, TyLee was surprised to see her back in school so soon. But then, it had been easier for TyLee to keep herself busy, and if Wan High was good for anything, it would be that.

She texted Katara to see if she wanted a ride home. It relieved her to find that, in light of things, Katara’s mother was able to get off of work early to pick her up from school. She texted back, ‘well, if you need a ride to school, let me know.’

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and headed for the door. She had nearly exited the building when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Just the person she didn’t want to see. "Oh, hi Azula." She greeted dryly. The only solace was that she wasn’t speaking to Mai—the very last person she wanted to see. Granted, Azula was only a hair above her on that list.

Azula was quiet for a long while. A long while that TyLee didn’t have time for. But, by all means, she really did want to hear what the girl had to say. She made no comment, instead opting to ask a question. "Why didn't you tell me?"

It sent prickles of irritation in TyLee’s belly. For the first time she considered that Azula had the self-awareness of a rock. "Because, you're you." She muttered. "I saw how you treated Katara and you were close to Jet. Why would you believe me? You didn't even answer your phone. You and Mai…you both left me."

"I thought that you were ignoring your texts." A real copout answer.

"You didn't think that something could be wrong!?” TyLee threw her hands up. “You've known me since we were kids and I always replied to your texts right away—because I knew you would get mad if I didn't, by the way.” She paused. Feeling particularly spiteful, she asked, “wo, were you?"

"What?" Azula returned the question.

"Were you mad? That night. Were you mad that I didn't text you back right away? Is that why you just left with Mai? Well sorry, I was a little busy."

Confusion and confliction weren’t emotions that Azula wore openly. So TyLee was surprised to see such a blunt expression of them. "I don't think that I was mad. I just knew that Mai needed a ride home and that her mother would have a meltdown if I didn't get her home."

TyLee didn’t know how to react to it. There was something wrong about the display. At first she thought that it was because Azula was trying to toy with her again. Trying to lie through her teeth. So she just stared at the other girl. Stared until is started to settle that something was off, because the explanation seemed so sincere.

"I wouldn't have talked to him if you would have said something. I wish that you would have said something…"

And she is vexed all over again. Was Azula blaming her? Was she that socially inept? "I wish that you didn't make me feel like I couldn't." She replied with a venom.

"I also wish that I didn't." Her response was so quiet that it threw TyLee off all over again. There was another drawn out window of silence that almost left TyLee feeling bad for having snapped at her former friend. She could swear that she saw Azula crumbling right before her. Something about the way her eyes dulled. She muttered something and made a retreat.

TyLee sighed. There was something about her that looked so broken. So defeated. And perhaps that is what coaxed her to rush to the girl’s car and give the window a few knocks. She was half-surprised to hear the door unlock. She slipped into the car. Somehow it felt like home, she had been in it so much. It still smelled like Azula. Like extravagant perfume and a tinge of incense. It put an ache in her belly to think that she hadn’t been in this car since that stupid party. It had to have been at least a year and she wondered if Azula was getting lonely. It was hard to imagine someone like Azula getting lonely.

Perhaps one day they could take a drive together, like old times.

Hell, it almost made her want to reconcile with Mai.

Lost in nostalgia, she almost didn’t catch Azula softly admit, "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I don't want to be mad at you…" TyLee agreed. Maybe she was being a little too hard on her ex-friend. No, not ex, she decided to herself. "I. It's not your fault, you didn't know. If it makes you feel better, I was mad at Mai too for a while." What was she saying, she was still mad at Mai. Still furious? At least Azula was putting in some effort here. She couldn’t say the same for Mai. But then, she didn’t really know Mai to put much effort nor passion into anything that wasn’t fighting with Zuko. "It's Jet's fault. All of this is Jet's fault. I blamed Chan too, but he was just the host."

She hoped that, that at least took a little sting off of Azula. One that she had probably created in the first place. She was putting a lot on Azula.

She was putting a lot on herself.

She almost cracked a smile, who knew that talking to Azula would help her realize that she wasn’t to blame at all for her own struggling. She was a victim, there were things that she could have done differently, but fear could take away logic. What matters was that she was able to save someone else. Maybe they wouldn’t get Jet for what he did to her. But in getting him locked up for Katara, she could have some resolve regardless.

The last of her resentment towards the girl sitting next to her melted away.

There is one thing that she still had to confess. "I think that, that's what Jet wanted. He wanted me to blame you guys because…" That was the one remaining thing that she wished that she hadn’t done. "Because that way, I had no one to talk to. The worst part is, it worked. I was so alone…"

"And then…"

TyLee rubbed her eyes and let her smile spread in full. "I found Katara."

"You saved her?"

TyLee couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement so she replied, "I guess you can say that."

She noticed that Azula was smiling. A very soft, somewhat melancholy smile. But it was there no less. "That counts for something, right? At least you didn't let it happen to someone else." She paused. "From the sound of it you were pretty fierce, glad I was able to teach you something."

TyLee had to laugh, it was the kind of ending statement that only Azula would make. She didn’t just realize how much she missed the girl and her underlying social-awkwardness. "I guess so."

"Do you need a ride home?" Azula asked.

The offer delighted her. It was the offer she was kind of hoping for and she was ready to take her up on it. Her elated mood dropped at the realization that the school would have her car towed or ticketed if she just left it in the lot. "I would take your offer, but I kinda can't just leave my car here over night." She didn’t want to offend Azula or give her the wrong idea so she quickly added, "but, uh, maybe you can come by tomorrow…if the police to pull me in for more questioning again."

Azula nodded, looking wholly withdrawn and she knew that the girl had taken it the wrong way. She wondered if she should let Azula take her home and then get someone else to drive her back to pick up her car. Ultimately, she decided to make a promise to herself to get a ride to school and let Azula take her home tomorrow.

.oOo.

She was eager to hear how things had gone for Katara. Late in the night, the girl had texted her with a promise to tell her about how the investigation was going. She was itching for an update about Sokka too, supposedly he had gone in for questioning right after her on Monday. Hopefully, Katara had some good news.

She had the mercy of escaping fourth hour math again. She held her diary close to her chest. As petty as it was, she almost didn’t want to hand it over for fear that she wouldn’t get it back. Maybe she should just tear the useful pages out of it and hand those over, that way she wouldn’t have to give up her precious and happy memories.

Much of what they talked over was a rehash of the same questions, likely to make sure that her story didn’t change. Yu-Ron then inquired more about Sokka and what she had witnessed. She had to affirm that she had indeed saw him slamming his fist into Jet’s face and then kicking him a few times. But she reiterated that Chan had actually done most of the work.

To be frank, she was afraid of Chan. The man had an eruptive temper. The temper that only Azula could really control. She didn’t know how Azula managed to keep him in check, but then, Azula in her own way was an imposing girl.

The last half hour, which ended up bleeding into her lunch period, was spent discussing a little further, what happened to her at the homecoming party. At which time she had torn the pages from her diary and handed them over. She also turned over a printed copy of her first draft of Kyoshi’s autobiography assignment.

Yu-Ron stood and shook her hand. “Thank you, TyLee. You have been very helpful. Between you and Katara, I think that we have a very sturdy case. Believe it or not Chan has helped too.”

“You questioned him?”

“I am not allowed to say much, but we had talked to him briefly on the night of the incident.”

TyLee nodded, she almost regretted asking, now her curiosity was piqued and it wouldn’t be satisfied. She stepped out of the adjoining room and back into the principal’s office. She only had the chance to her hand on the doorknob when Bumi stopped her.

“We’re under lockdown.”

“Lockdown!?” She jolted. “Shouldn’t we be hiding.”

Bumi shook his head. “Soft lockdown.”

So a drug bust, she thought to herself. She looked into the parking lot to see flashing red and blue. A line of police cars and ambulances and even one firetruck. “What’s going on?”

“We have a student who needs hospitalization.” It was then that she realized that Bumi wasn’t being his kooky self.

“Are they okay?”

“It doesn’t sound too good.” Bumi mumbled and she knew that, that was all she would be getting out of him. Granted news would probably travel around the school pretty quickly.

TyLee glanced out the window just in time to see a gurney being hoisted into the ambulance. Some part of her shuddered.

.oOo.

She found Katara after class. Katara who somehow managed to look more teary eyed and distraught than usual.

“Are you okay, Katara?”

“I…” Katara trailed off. “Too much is happening at once.” Her voice cracked.

TyLee tilted her head. “What’s going on?”

“She killed herself, Ty.” Katara’s voice hitched. And with the hiccup in her voice, she was crying.

“Who?” TyLee asked. An awful knot welled up in her belly. She knew what she was going to hear before she actually did.

“Azula.”

“How do you know!?”

“Teo and I found her.” She replied quietly. “I…she talked to me before…”

“She talked to me too.” TyLee replied quietly. Now she had another regret. Another thing she wished that she had done. She should have left her car in the lot and drove home with Azula. “I was going to drive home with her today…” It was hard to speak with tears flowing so freely. “Is she really gone?”

Katara hugged her. “I’m not sure. It sounded like it, but I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“I was going to drive home with her, Katara. We were going to go to my house and I was going to show her my new hamster and we were going to catch up…” Azula didn’t know that, but that’s what they would have done. She wanted to surprise her. She even had a little make-up gift. “We were going to be friends again…”

.oOo.

TyLee hugged her pillow close. She was thankful to have Katara. The woman and her mother were so comforting and friendly, and she was lucky that they were so willing to drop her off at home. But her heart ached for Azula. She hugged her pillow even closer. Azula, who she still didn’t have news of. It seemed that Katara had none either and she didn’t know Teo’s number. She’d only ever met him in passing. Despite it all, she texted Azula, trying not to think that she might be texting a dead girl. She thought that it was her turn to ask, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ Instead she typed, ‘I wanted to surprise you today, because you looked so upset yesterday.’ She didn’t know where she was going with that so she went to backspace it. Instead her trembling fingers hit send. Adds a simple, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t a good friend.’

She curled up on her bed and falls to another round of sobs. It was too much, Katara was right. Too much was happening at once.

She woke to the sound of her phone buzzing.

She looked wearily at the screen and the queasiness in her stomach cleared.

‘Can you move your surprise to the hospital?’ The dots appeared again.

‘You weren’t a bad friend…’

#Avatar #TyLee #Azula #Mai #Katara #Sokka #Toph #Aang #Suki #Jet #Chan #Fanfiction

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blueinkedfrost · 7 years ago

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Heathers - Bud Dean

Bud Dean has about three canonical personality traits - explosives obsession, exercise/fitness obsession, not a very good parent. Four personality traits if you count his and J.D.'s sarcastic roleplaying exchanges as a trait. Everything else is absolutely conjecture.

Bud's other important trait is that, for a character who has 2.5 brief scenes in the movie, he's a real spotlight stealer. He's extremely interesting! This is why he tempts people to conjecture about him.

In terms of defending Bud, he's not the worst character in the movie! He only killed one person and a memorial oak tree, and in both cases was legally acquitted of responsibility. He's not a very good parent, but none of the other adult characters are particularly good either.

And, very importantly, what is 'Bud' a nickname for? I think his full name should be Burton, as it makes a nice little reference to Ira Levin's A Kiss Before Dying, which you should definitely read without spoilers.

Here are my Bud conjectures, in the order that we get information in the movie.

The first thing we learn about J.D.'s home environment is that he moves around a lot but there's a Snappy Snack Shack in every town.

J.D. I've been moved around all my life. Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas ... Sherwood, Ohio. There's always been a Snappy Snack Shack ... Keeps me sane.

This early in the movie, 'Keeps me sane' just sounds like hyperbolic banter. Later we realise that J.D. has some very serious issues, and Snappy Snack Shacks as his one source of stability in an unstable life were not an adequate means of support. When Veronica comments on J.D.'s motorbike, he explains a bit more of his background:

J.D. Yeah, just a humble perk from my dad's construction company. You've seen the commercial, right? "Bringing every state to a higher state".

Then it's Veronica who says the company name and Bud's name, 'Big Bud Dean Construction'. So the background here is:

Bud's business causes him and his son to move around a lot - we'll figure out that the constant moving and having no friends has a negative effect on his son's mental state. Maybe Bud would've been a better parent if he'd sent J.D. to boarding school. It seems like Bud prioritises his work over his kid, although in his defence he needs to earn a living.

The company's clearly doing well enough to have popular T.V. ads. Bud's very competent at what he does.

Naming your company after yourself makes you a self-made man with a high opinion of your creator. (It's not even just 'Bud Dean Construction', it's a boastful 'Big Bud'.) In contrast, Veronica's family, established in Sherwood, might have inherited money, as her parents seem to lead pretty leisurely lives.

We meet Bud in person when he walks in on J.D. and Veronica watching television (Veronica quickly removes her hand from around J.D.'s shoulders). Comparing Bud's physical appearance to Veronica's father, he has a lot more grey in his hair; it's possible Bud's meant to be older, although different people go grey at different rates and he is very physically fit.

Bud and his son communicate by putting words in each other's mouth. This roleswapping exchange is offputting, and an indication of the chaos that surrounds J.D.

J.D. Hey, son, I didn't hear you come in. BUD. Hey, Dad, how was work today? It was miserable. Some damn tribe of withered old bitches doesn't want us to terminate that fleabag hotel.

This exchange makes me conjecture that Bud's on the more misogynistic end of the Heathers spectrum, although this movie sets the bar pretty low (J.D. has the dubious distinction of 'only male character to show a vague awareness that date rape is wrong'). Veronica says 'bitch' too and she'd probably identify as a feminist, but Bud uses particularly vivid, imaginative language to denounce these women - tribe of withered old bitches, then later the judge told them to slurp shit and die. (Which the judge probably did not literally do.) This combined with the backstory on Bud's wife and Bud's dismissive attitude toward Veronica makes me think Bud doesn't think much of women.

Bud and J.D. then talk over an anecdote in "fucking Kansas", where Bud was arraigned but acquitted for illegally blowing up the Memorial Oak Tree with thirty fireworks attached to the trunk. Bud is willing to break the law and clever enough to get away with it, and doesn't care much for trees, environmentalism, or history. J.D. repeats the story as if Bud's told it many times before.

Then there's a nonverbal exchange that's quite interesting. Veronica offers to shake Bud's hand and he refuses, walking on a treadmill and giving her a perfunctory wave instead. He's clearly very interested in exercising and not very polite to her. Veronica leaves in a hurry soon after.

J.D. Veronica, this is my dad. Dad - Veronica.

VERONICA. Hi. (Bud refuses her handshake.)

J.D. Son, why don't you ask your little friend to stay for dinner?

VERONICA. I can't, uh, my mom's making my favourite meal tonight. Spaghetti, lots of oregano.

After the role reversal conversation and the handshake refusal, Veronica seems to find Bud offputting and leaves quickly. Since Veronica later asks J.D. 'Do you like your father', she doesn't find Bud likeable. However, in Veronica's second encounter with Bud, she's sarcastic about him within his earshot ('the beaver's home'), so she probably doesn't find him particularly scary or threatening.

J.D.'s last line before Veronica leaves is this tantalising beginning of a reveal, that Veronica is completely disinterested in asking for more information about:

J.D. How nice. Last time I saw my mom, she was waving from a library window in Texas. Right, Dad? BUD. Right ... son.

There's an earlier script version that gives more information about Bud's attitude here:

J.D. The last time I saw my mom, she was waving out the window of a library in Texas. Right, Dad?

BIG BUD DEAN stops rowing to grin a You-Think-You're-Tougher-Than-Me-But-You're-Not smile to J.D.

BUD. Right, son.

Bud literally killed J.D.'s mother while he watched, but instead of thinking that some kind of emotional support might be appropriate, he sees mentions of her death as a tough-out contest. Bud probably wins that contest, and along with it a 'bad parenting' prize. The way J.D. brings up his mother's death makes it feel like an unhealed wound - J.D.'s poking at the scab, trying to get some sort of reaction out of his father that he doesn't get at all.

In Bud's second appearance, J.D. and Veronica are again in the living room. Veronica threw the photo of J.D.'s mother at him in frustration, not knowing what it was. Bud walks in with a videotape, gloating over how We beat the bitches ... the judge told them to slurp shit and die. He shows the video of his deconstruction job.

BUD. I put a Norwegian in the boiler room. Masterful! And then, when that blew, it set off a pack of thermals I stuck upstairs. Some days it's great to be alive.

Bud has a high opinion of his own talents (warranted - he clearly did a good job of demolishing the hotel) and loves destruction. The video seems to be much more for enjoyment than analysing his work; he watches it and laughs. Deconstruction is a job that clearly someone has to do, and lots of people like explosions in moderation - but, for Bud, he loves them. While watching the video, J.D. clearly also starts to feel excitement and consider how he could blow up Westerburg High School. Like father, like son.

When Bud leaves, Veronica asks J.D. a question.

VERONICA. Do you like your father?

At that point in the story, Veronica's disturbed about the three murders J.D. planned and she's also noticed Bud's love for destruction - it's plausible that she asked that question hoping for a definite 'no, I'm not as destructive as my father'. She doesn't get that definite no.

J.D. I've never given the matter much thought. I liked my mother. They said her death was an accident, but she knew what she was doing. She walked into the building two minutes before my dad blew the place up. She waved at me, and then ... boom.

(The camera zooms in on the picture of a light-haired woman casually dressed on a beach, in sunglasses. The sunglasses probably symbolise 'we didn't need to find a stock photo that looked like Christian Slater'.)

Since Bud literally pulled the trigger on Mrs. Dean, it's tempting to take the way she died as symbolic of It's-Just-Possible-That-I-Might-Have-Had-Some-Issues-With-My-Husband. The death was ruled an accident; she would have walked into the building of her own will; Bud probably didn't know she was there. If Bud was a decent or semi-decent spouse, then forcing him to literally kill her was a shitty thing to do. (Similarly, Martha's method of committing suicide would've been horrifying to the car driver, but in Martha's case, she didn't know that it would be one specific driver.)

While it's not spelt out, it's easy to picture Bud as an awful or abusive spouse. Ruling Mrs. Dean's death an accident was probably quite lenient from the coroner, considering that Bud was responsible for securing the demolition site and could have been considered negligent. In this real life example where a person was killed in a demolition (it's a very sad story), the contractor's responsibility was certainly considered. In some religions, there's a stigma against suicide, which means that ruling a death accidental is considered kinder to the family. Maybe the Deans are (nominally, anyway, as they don't seem remotely devout) Catholic.

(By calling her Mrs. Dean, I'm even making an assumption that they were married, which also isn't explicitly stated - but it's a pretty safe assumption.)

J.D.'s line on whether he likes his father is I've never given the matter much thought. I liked my mother. His mother was the better parent of the two, with J.D. feeling affection for her but indifference to his father. I think J.D.'s line reminiscing about his mother is a genuine emotional moment from him. Not long after this, J.D. shoots the radio playing 'Teenage Suicide' for no obvious reason. He's an impulsive character, but also a pretty calculating one, so it's hard to understand what motivated him there. Unresolved anger from reminiscing about his mother's death seems a convincing explanation.

Bud's final brief scene in the film actually shows him in a relatively positive light. While J.D. is building the bomb to blow up the school, Bud knocks on his son's door. He's not seen, only heard.

BUD. Hey, pop, I need some help with my homework!

J.D. Not right now, tiger, I'm a little busy.

Bud tries to reach out and engage his son; his son asks him to back off; and Bud respects J.D.'s boundaries and does so. (Of course, in this particular case, obviously things did not end well.)

And then J.D. goes off and tries to blow up the school with a trigger in the basement and packs of thermals in the gym. Veronica says the line Like father, like son. She literally means that the bombing style is the same. But it's really tempting to extend her line to mean more. J.D. displays a lack of empathy and concern for human life. Could those traits be inherited from his father? Bud doesn't show much empathy and concern for his son, and doesn't seem to have any friends or any interest in remarrying. Bud's exercise habits are solitary exercise, on his personal machines (not even at the gym with other people around!). Bud shows some grandiosity in his opinions about himself, such as calling his company 'Big Bud Dean Construction' and his interpretation on exactly what the judge told the protesters. It's tempting to read Bud as the 'sociopath who succeeds in business' stereotype - someone who channels his love for explosives into mostly legal channels, is willing to break the rules (see also the Memorial Oak Tree), and doesn't care for other people's feelings.

In a movie that uses a lot of colour symbolism, Bud's colour scheme greatly varies - a red and grey tracksuit in his first scene, (bright) blue and black in his second, unseen in his third. He prefers casual clothes or exercise clothes. Red is used to symbolise power (Chandler's scrunchie); grey seems pretty neutral; blue is Veronica's colour, symbolising intelligence; black is J.D.'s colour, symbolising destruction. Power, intelligence, and destruction pretty much fit Bud's character, although it's weird to see him in blue as he and Veronica hardly have anything in common. The photo of Mrs. Dean shows her in light colours, perhaps showing that she was more vulnerable and weak.

In terms of what I like about Bud, I really like his competence and his sarcasm. He's obviously good at what he does (blows up hotels, runs a successful company, keeps physically fit). He's clever enough to blow up a memorial oak tree without getting caught. His exchanges with his son show that he's rather verbally apt. Bud seems to be doing exactly what he wants to do in life with no inner angst whatsoever, which is a lot more than most Heathers characters can say.

Overall, how terrible a parent was Bud? It's pretty open. In the suicide note for Heather Chandler, J.D. contributes Suicide is the logical answer to the myriad of problems life has given me, which you can imply that he was also using to talk about himself. 'Myriad of problems' sounds like there might be more to J.D.'s issues than 'My mom died and I move around a lot', but that's a major conjecture. Bud clearly gives his son enough pocket money to support a motorbike, a smoking habit, and a convenience store habit, as well as way too much access to weaponry. Bud's not very emotionally supportive, and rather neglectful; his son stays the night away from home on at least two occasions (before killing Heather and before killing Kurt and Ram) without Bud apparently caring much.

Given J.D.'s issues, it's tempting to blame his father to a greater or lesser extent. However, J.D. is seventeen, not seven, and responsible for his own actions. J.D.'s penchant for killing other people's bullies seems like it might tie in to past bullying he experienced himself, where if he went after his own tormentors it would be too much like admitting weakness. It's believable enough to assume his father was one of the people who hurt him, whether by action or neglect. J.D. seems to mind when Heather Chandler targets Martha and when Kurt and Ram target the nerd at the funeral, in a twisted way of showing empathy; J.D. also has some feelings for his mother and for Veronica, despite how dark he becomes. Bud isn't shown to care for anyone at all.

Through Bud's exercise obsession, he's physically tougher than his son, and he seems more emotionally callous as well. No wonder he survives the movie where his son doesn't.

Go Team Bud?

#heathers #Bud Dean #Jason Dean #fandom meta

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nikkiitalks · 4 years ago

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Below the cut is a story submitted to me, the text below the cut is not mine.

Seeing people receive hate for sharing their stories, I decided to share my own. Hope Nikki doesn’t mind me sharing the story in her inbox. I am only doing it because I want to protect others.

Let me start from the very beginning. I started roleplaying very young back in elementary school. It was a town forum rp. It was hardly a roleplay, most of the time we would talk more out of character and share images. It involved people of the same age group. But it opened the doors for me and I started roaming different forums. Reading and roleplaying with others helped me to develop a vivid interest in writing, which became the love of my life.

The very first time I wrote my first smut was 10 years old, but it was more of a ‘fade to black’ scene. At that age, you have zero understanding of what you are doing and what the hell you’re supposed to be doing. Very quickly I became somewhat disinterested in forums (and I developed a muse blockage which destroyed any relationship developments with my partners), I decided to check out MySpace. Now this is when I really started to enjoy roleplaying to the fullest and experience the ups and downs of my most beloved fandoms.

But this is when things really went downhills. My smut was no longer ‘fade to black’. It was more explicit, a lot more dirty and most of the time I have no idea what I was meant to write. I was forced to read a lot of lemon stories and even watch videos. I come from that era where no one really cared for mun’s age. No one even asked how old you are. I didn’t know my partner’s either. And I could care less. As long as someone is writing with me- who cares, right? Now that I am a bit older, I am weirdened out by my behavior and how I never thought through my coincidences. My actions could put someone else in a lot of trouble. I never thought or considered that. I could not imagine myself writing with 14 years old, let alone I can hardly engage in a conversation with someone in their eighteen or nineteens. In more recent times, I seek out my rping partners on reddit. And I dig through my (possibly) future partner’s posting history. There was a time when I turned down someone for lying about their age to me.

But now wait for my story.

I was 18, soon to turn 19, when I met one of my long-term rping partners who very quickly became my boyfriend. I admit- I am very sheltered, super naïve and never dated in real life. I was also poisoned with a belief that this is my one and only relationship and it will be the most beautiful romance of my life. What were red flags didn’t look like red flags to me. And one of my 1x1 RP partners kept pointing things out to me. They were worried about me and quickly noticed my behavior changed. I was not seeing them.

My boyfriend was 10 years older than I was. We quickly connected and indulged in 1x1. One couple became five more ships and then we ended up writing more and more. I also found myself falling for him because we were connecting very well outside of our characters. But how wrong I was. He knew I experienced sexual harassment at the age of 12, but that’s a different story. I opened up to him about it. He was one of the first people who learned about what I have gone through and thought he’s supportive of me.

First red flags I noticed were all over our stories. First time I inquired with him if he wanted to write an age gap story (not even having us in our mind), he agreed. I have never written one, wanted to experience it, also saw a few fun ideas all over Tumblr. Then later he started to suggest them more and more to me. One of them which horrifies me, is how he wanted me to write as someone as young as 14 once. Another one was a fangirl wooing over her favorite actor who is in mid-30s and she is the one who is seducing him. I actually talked with him about it and his response was, “he is hot, he can get any girl, she would feel inferior to them”. Thinking about that makes me crawl inside. I can only apologize. I really should have known better as someone who experienced sexual harassment from someone 20 years older than me.

Second red flags came up was that he kept pushing me roleplay ideas. I didn’t have any more time left for my other 1x1s. It was all about him. I reached the state where I wanted to communicate with more people outside of him, but I would feel bad. I would make new blogs, reconnect to my previous partners and would deactivate in less than a week. I would not be able to sleep. I would be sweating up all night and thinking if this makes me a cheater. I know it doesn’t. And it would never do.

He never liked me writing more ‘strong’ characters. He never liked his characters ending up inferior to mine. His characters always had to come out on top despite nothing. And if my characters were to show his any attitude, he would start complaining. It would even show in his responses and it would border on an emotional abuse towards my characters. He once even lashed out to me for retriggering his childhood memory I didn’t even know he had. Admittedly, I felt bad. He even had a weird set of rules on which words not to use.

For instance, I had a lawyer female character. And I even had ideas for her. But his reply once just…. left me speechless. I actually started wondering if he actually reads what I am writing at this point. My adult lawyer female character ended up a cheerleader at his character’s practice (college?) and they ended up having sex in the bleachers. I was speechless by that moment.

And I felt inferior to him because our roleplays only had his ideas. Even any spirit my characters had demolished very soon after. I felt like they had no voice. The only few times when I suggested to him with what I came up, he had made everything his own. He would thrust his ideas onto my characters. In the middle of our roleplay, we were talking my character- he started complaining how he doesn’t like it. My character was a witch. For him, witches only able to cast spells and create portals. He can’t have any abilities. If my character wants to possess other abilities- he needs different specie other than a witch.

In the last 3 months of our relationship, I opened up to him that I am having a burnout. I feel zero excitement towards anything we’re writing. I also asked him to tone down on sexual scenes. I want to focus more on the stories instead of constant sex. He agreed. I also requested him if he could stop making characters that often, writing a starter and then tell me only the next day. I had around ~350 characters that moment. There were mornings when I would wake up to a new story and I can’t muster out any excitement. He said we can stick to what we’re writing at the moment. In less than 2 weeks, he broke that promise. New characters all over again.

Speaking of our own personal relationship, I ended up very lonely. I lost my friends. My friends started to turn their back on me. I drifted apart from them. My mom was also very unsupportive of this relationship and it became the whole mindset ‘us against the whole world’. She probably sensed something was wrong and I fought her hard. I was very wrong about it. It took me months to convince him to send me a picture, couldn’t convince him to talk to me on a video chat, though. And one of the least proud things I’ve ever done was to send my nudes. Holy fuck, I was stupid. There are times when sometimes I try to search up sites to make sure they have not ended up anywhere.

I was very withdrawn and depressive. I remember the first months of our relationship under the mist. I don’t know where that time disappeared. Our relationship also happened around a very bad period of my life. I lost two dear people and I had a small PTSD stemming out from losing them. I couldn’t sleep, every time I did I would get nightmares. I also developed panic attacks and anxiety. This man not even once showed me a hint of sympathy towards my mental health. Not even a single worry coming from him. Not even once he suggested me seeing therapy or talking things out with me. He would promise to talk to me about what is bothering me, only to neglect the subject by the following day.

He would often tell me I’m his soulmate and he loves me so much. I was bombed with attention for the first time, for the first time I felt lucky someone considered me beautiful- and loved me for who I am. I was very trustworthy, he made it into a façade. The words that initially brought me joy left me scarred for the rest of my life. Sometimes I dream of him and I wake up triggered. I will be angry, I will be sad, my throat is clenched and it will be like this until I wake up again.

There were a lot of more things that came from our personal interactions, that don’t make me proud for overlooking these hints .This was the same person who smeared my sexuality and shamed LGBTQ+ community. He was transphobic. I was stupid believing I can change him and I would defend everyone with my will. I believed one’s opinion can be helped. He’d probably despise me today- as I am actually wondering that I might be non-binary. I currently use she/they pronouns to identify. He tried to deny me for who I really was by covering my arguments with ‘You know why I like you? You are so docile and nice, not like those whore American girls’.

He is broken but it is not my job to fix him. I didn’t break him. I was so wrong for thinking this is my soulmate and latching onto every single word of his. I realize fault in my actions where I enabled and encouraged him to write what did. I am currently on a therapy for this. I wish what I knew now and I wish I could have fought him better.

There are people in this community who are as amazing as they write. They will seem ideal and very kindhearted. They don’t get into any drama. There will be a lot of things that makes you click and you feel like your creativity juices flow together. But they hide things about themselves. And since we’re all writers here- we, might as well, give ourselves happy ending at that too. We might as well create ourselves flaweless characters. I believe this person lied to me about who they are. I believe I was being taken an advantage of in many ways.

I still sometimes roleplay but I am very careful. Truthfully speaking after this experience, I won’t roleplay with any male roleplayers. I know not every single one of them is like this and to those I wish all the best of luck. I don’t roleplay smut. I have nothing against it, but my focus is on different stories. I enjoy writing it for fanfictions, though, but even them they need to have a ‘backbone’ for me. Although I still love romance a tons.

And I would like to apologize on my own faults in this story. I am sorry if I upset anybody else while you were reading this. To those who are reading this, please take a good care of yourselves and please protect yourselves online the best way. Always trust your gut. If someone is challenging your thoughts, DON’T try to change them. They won’t and they are not worth it. Your heart will hurt for a little bit, but someone better is coming along.

#i just saw this in my mobile inbox but it didn't show up in my desktop one?#but here is your story #my heart hurts for all that you went through #submission

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ritingsandwramblings · 7 years ago

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A Little Bit of Light Part 1/2 (Connor Murphy Imagine)

Warnings: 3) is very vivid and descriptive about self harm, swears, me feeling hella emo writing this somEONE STOP ME FROM LISTENING TO A LITTLE BIT OF LIGHT AGAIN

What I’m doing with this is this is the second part in the series, the next t be uploaded will be the first part because I had the ideas for this and part one after I already uploaded the part three whoops. It’ll be in chronological order of events in the deh universe tho.

••••••

Cynthia remembers the day the light went out in Connor. She remembers the anger in his body language as he walked, the sadness in his eyes, the growl in his voice; but she didn’t want to think of that.

‘Think of all the good things!’ She consistently told her husband and daughter. They refused to see any good things in Connor. Cynthia remembers the good things, she can think of at least three times where there were moments with a little bit of light, where Connor tried to desperately to fight the war raging in his mind, until he lost the battle…

“Zoe Nicole Murphy why is your hair purple!?” Larry’s yell could be heard through the house, but this wasn’t uncommon for the Murphy household.

“My hair isn’t purple!” Zoe defended.

“Then what the hell do you call this!?” Larry held a large portion of Zoe’s hair, which was definitely not her normal natural hair color.

“Indigo,” Zoe retorted smartly. Connor snorted from his place at the bar, where he had been sitting while reading his book and eating an apple. Larry stormed out of the room, furious that his daughter had done such a thing to her hair without even bothering to ask permission first. Connor stood, throwing out his apple core and closing his book. The book was old and withered from how many times Connor reread it, but t had always been one of his favorites.

“For the record, I think it looks pretty fucking cool,” he said to Zoe, monotonously so that he didn’t break his 'reputation’ of sorts he had here, in his own home. She beamed at him as he left the room, successfully hiding his smirk from Zoe, but not from his mother. Cynthia stood nearby the kitchen door and watched as her son skulked back upstairs to his room and smiled happily.

/At least there were days where he let some light in/

“C'mon, Connor, you can’t go trick or treating without a costume, that’s the Murphy’s Law!” Cynthia giggled from Connors doorway, watching as he set down his Trick or Treat bag and sit on his bed.

“No, Murphy’s law is that anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” Connor stated matter of factly, blowing a brown curl out of his eyes. Cynthia sighed, looking down at her sons pale, scrawny form. She had noticed his attitude change for a few months now but chose to ignore it, assuming it was just this phase every boy went through at his age.

“Don’t know how you can remember that but not ace all your science tests,” she smiled, showing Connor she was only joking and hoping she imagined his eye roll in response, “Why don’t you wanna dress up? C'mon, don’t you wanna be Spider-Man? He’s still cool, right?”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m 13, Mom, dressing up would be lame, especially in a costume like that,” Connor groaned as his mother begging him to wear the costume again. He’s worn it every Halloween for as long as he can remember, because Spider-Man’s always been his favorite superhero. His parent never complained, only made sure he was fine with wearing the same costume again. He knew they secretly liked it since Halloween costumes were expensive and that was one less kid to shop for, and that was secretly part of the reason why he never asked for a different costume.

“Well you aren’t going Trick or Treating without a costume,” Cynthia repeated. She could see Connor’s attempt to look indifferent, but she was also his mother, and knew when there was sadness in his eyes, “tell you what, if you wear… Hmm… this hoodie, and this t-shirt, you’ll pass as Peter Parker, and that could be a costume,” she suggested, grabbing a red Spider-Man shirt and a grey hoodie Connor rarely wore. His eyes lit up slightly, but he played it off, shrugging and agreeing to wear that as his costume. He left the room so he could change, standing outside his door at the end of the hall, beaming to herself as what she accomplished. A minute later, Connor came out with a small grin on his face, looking up at his mom. He had his empty bag in hand and his hoodie was zipped up halfway, the top of the black spider showing on his faded red t-shirt, and he now wore his beat up black converse.

“Ready to go, my Spider-Man?”

“Mom, don’t blow my cover,” Connor giggled. Cynthia ruffled his hair as he walked past her, the two of them coming downstairs to Larry and Zoe waiting, the twelve year old dressed in a flowery fairy costume, complete with an indigo flower crown to match the rest of her dress and wings. Cynthia smiled walking behind her two children all night, as they excitedly ran up to front doors to collect their candy. She didn’t know that within the next year she would wish that she enjoyed this peaceful moment for longer.

/My Spider-Man he stood at four foot two, such a happy child/

Connor had grown to love that grey hoodie ever since he wore it that Halloween. When he hit his growth spurt and grew out of it, he begged his mother to get him a new one. She did, as she did anything to try to hold on desperately to her sons happiness. He was sixteen now, and halfway through his sophomore year. Cynthia couldn’t ignore his behavior anymore now, as it had worsened over he years. Connor and his sister never spoke, and when they did it was bickering or Connor threatening and cussing at Zoe. Zoe had cried to her mother a few times already this year about how people started to make fun of her and avoided talking to her because they think Connors insane. Cynthia knew she couldn’t avoid the topic much longer, but the smell of smoke was obvious every time Connor walked into a room. She never brought it up, thinking that if she left it alone eventually her fears would disappear.

Her method of helping her son was to let him sort out his problems on his own. She trusted Connor, he could make mart decisions, and whatever was happening in his mind was his problem to fight on his own, right? There was little she could do, but she tried. She desperately tried to have family meals, a chance to talk to her children about their days. Zoe contributed to conversation for a while, Connor sometimes did on a good day.

It was Saturday, meaning the Murphy children would be asleep, Zoe until at least ten and Connor until noon at least. Cynthia had given up on trying to get them to wake up sooner, to enjoy breakfast with her and Larry. Zoe she could get awake sometimes, but Connor had no motivation to do anything and stayed in bed til late, whether he was asleep or not. She worked around her children, cleaning and doing laundry until they woke up. She had folded a load and went to each child’s bedroom to put it in their for them to put away when they woke up. She walked down the hall to Connors bedroom, after going to Zoe’s and happily finding her awake and dressed, just brushing her hair at the moment. She quietly opened Connors door, entering his room and avoiding the books and clothes strewn across the floor. Walking to the desk by his bed she set down the stack of folded laundry, and checked the time on the clock in his room, seeing it was already twelve thirty. Deciding it was an appropriate time to wake her son up, she carefully walked to his bed, her hand reaching to nudge his shoulder carefully when her eyes caught something.

She gasped, tears filling her eyes as she pulled her now shaking hand back, hoping that the scars littering Connors wrist were figments of her imagination. She closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath, her hand tentatively reaching towards the boys wrist. She gently touches a scar, as if testing that its real. Being too focused on it, she doesn’t notice her son stir, or stare wide eyed at his mothers hand. She looks to her sons face, expecting and hoping to see his sleeping form at peace, but instead is met with the boys mostly blue eyes staring into hers. They’re filled with fear, even the little brown section in his right eye looks terrified.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispers, but nothing comes out. She turns to leave but a cold hand reaches out and grabs her wrist. She turns around, her son has sat up onto his greyscale duvet. He lets go of her wrist and stands, wrapping his arms around her all in one swift motion. Cynthia pauses, not knowing how to react for a moment, before she wraps her arms around her son, a hand comfortingly petting his messy brown curls.

“I-I’m s-sor-ry, Mom.” He feels so small and frail in Cynthia’s arms.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay.” She decides then that that night she would go to Larry about getting Connor help, about helping her son fight his battles.

They never ended up helping Connor fight his battles. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay. He never got to be okay.

/And the battle he fought, he just couldn’t win/

#deh #deh imagine #dear evan hansen imagine #dearevanhansen #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #cynthia murphy #zoe murphy #larry murphy #a little bit of light #tw #aNGST

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