#ok but it is always a surprise to me how much this au resonated with a lot of you
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
twst (horror) tober — day 5 (disturbance)
➤ Day 5: Disturbance | “Nothing can interrupt us now.”
He has failed them.
The sword clutched in his hands buckles and groans with a gruesome squeal of steel under an inhuman pressure from where it was hastily raised in a desperate bid to protect his face from those monstrous, lethal claws. Instead of making vicious contact with his skin, the black-tipped talons curl around the sharp blade as if it were a child's toy, uncaring for the way that it bites into pallid skin and draws blood as dark as nightshade.
When the metal snaps and shatters, there is no trace of magical assistance, no spell cast to render the sword brittle and cheap— this, Andrei knows, is the power of the fae. A power that the General still wields despite the persistent rumors, seven hundred years later.
(He is wrong, but for a reason that he cannot understand— Lilia has never known strength like this before. But then again, his wars were not fought with the mad grief of a father.)
He has failed them, his majesties, their son.
He can imagine it now, the foul entourage that had stormed their secret keep, how they must be swarming the boy and filling his head with their poisonous lies, feeding him the complacent, sweet nectar of fae conspiracy. He can imagine how the prince will inevitably yield to their power, and he mourns how little time together they shared, for he could not fully undo the bewitching enchantment they had ensnared him with, such magic written deep into the soft tissues of his heart for the boy to toss and turn in the depths of slumber and cry out for a monster as if it could possibly be known by a name as dear as father.
He imagines these scenes, because even Andrei knows that this is the end. There is madness slavering in the locked snarl of the fae's lips as he stands before him, broken pieces of Andrei's sword still clutched in his rigid hands. There is the promise of a grisly, violent demise in the fae's burning crimson eyes, of a fate that had been sealed the moment that Andrei had stolen the human, their prince, from the fae's side.
"I have waited long for this meeting," the creature rumbles at him, and Andrei is struck by the vision of a predator ten times larger than the slight figure before him, the very atmosphere of the room rippling with a miasma thick and oppressive. The fae bares his fangs at him— in the low torch light, they gleam like death.
"There will be nothing to interrupt us now."
#lettie writes#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland silver#twst lilia#lilia vanrouge#potion!au#SURPRISE SURPRISE!#ok but it is always a surprise to me how much this au resonated with a lot of you#but i felt that it wouldn't be a twstober without it#considering the prompt that started it all
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok so i accidentally deleted the draft but a while back an anon asked me basically saying they had read Gone (are the Days) and wanted other good fanfic recs. and this was my response LMAO
hmm !! this may surprise you but i actually don’t consume that much fanfic. partially because i’m picky, partially bc i tend to consume content slowly or bounce around a lot, etc
i will say a general tip is to sort by bookmarks or kudos to get the good stuff and filter by specific tags as well! like i just read mage pride which is the top bookmarked item in the viravos tag and it was definitely worth the hype!!
if you enjoyed gone are the days,
you’d probably like the Professor Next Door by detectiphoenix (also a professor au but high school teachers!) besides that, here are some viravos fanfic i’ve enjoyed, off the top of my head:
(for context i’m not hyper into smut personally or try to find variety/creativity and i’m biased towards certain things lol but)
VIRAVOS FICS I LOVED <3
Mage Pride by luminiex - This is the top bookmarked fic in the viravos tag, and for good reason! While it is written after S2 and has more sympathetic Aaravos than in canon, it is still very well done in my opinion. I also love whatever it takes by them, it’s great if you don’t like smut too! Aaravos and Viren living together in this plane together lives rent free in my head 😭 I also love their fic where Aaravos gets to meet Viren’s family :)
Recidivism by indefensibleselfindulgence/ @iamalivenow - the viren characterization is everything, it takes place in s2 prison era, and it’s very humorous!
The Sound of His Voice by portmanteau_press - very very cool setup/worldbuilding concept i think
Constellation of the Heart by @yurayuramiharin - This fic is one of my absolute favorites and has inspired some of the art I’ve done as well! As someone who loves vintage & goth subculture & IS a baby bat in college I feel like I resonate with it really well! I love the taking of the worldbuilding of the dragon prince recontextualized in a college setting and the way Aaravos was actually an inspiration for Bowie & caused Viren to question his sexuality!! It’s so deliciously perfect but sadly unfinished, but I would say it’s still definitely worth the read! It doesn’t really end on a cliffhanger either, just one of the best burns ever 😁
Touch of a Star by @detectiphoenix - really unique take on what it’s like to touch Aaravos, I adore it sm and think about it everyday too. Fluffy S5 extrapolation/continuation
To Serve or Slaughter by beastlybrooke - viravos recontextualized as vampires like castlevania my other recent fixation? sign me up. it’s interesting how viren’s prejudice towards elves is recast as a prejudice towards vampires, and aaravos’s fight towards the elves and view towards humans i love it everything
honorary mention ficlets:
the stars they lie by rikku - this is short but i really like the way they incorporate virrow and mindgames, as well as enby aaravos :)
Checkmate by @thrandilf is also short and sweet but i adore it, i think about the alternate versions of the s5 trailer sm and even tried writing my own a few times but they never went that far but yeah i love it and they have other fics that are great too
respect his decision by @vestaldestroyer because aaravos didn’t have to revive viren s4 but he did and ughgghhghh while i don’t think he cares that much cause he might have just been using the revival as a way in with claudia and continuation of all that, there’s always that off chance and he doesn’t even realize how attached he is and love is just that huge when you’re that old and powerful, large enough to move mountains and yeah </3
i’d put my own can you stay by @self-spaghettification but that’d seem a bit unfair lol
—
there’s probably others i’ve yet to read or that are cool but i don’t remember or that have some good parts but are kind of iffy imo but those are the only ones i can think of off the top of my head i’m sorry </3
but i’ve also have been compiling a list of fic ratings on a google doc and uhh its not really sharable in any way, but a while ago I also had a website concept where people could share fic ratings like goodreads but for ao3 with some other site inspo in the mix that i spent a few hours sketching out the concept of but idk if i should share but yeah :)
#q&a#fic recs#there’s also ones i loved for aaravos specifically or aaravos&callum but they don’t necessarily fit here#aaravos#viravos#edit bc i put slash before and definitely did not mean to</3#viren#the dragon prince#self spaghettification#anonymous#asks#mine
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
I blame @quiet-oracle and @theevildevices for this, because I couldn’t resist the urge to write 2k of hurt/comfort for the ‘Jedi but enemies’ AU, where Qui-Gon trained Anakin, and now him and Obi-Wan are well-known for despising each other but working exceptionally well together when they’re not lost in ridiculous banters and petty arguments to hide the fact that they’ll be lost without each other;
Obi-Wan winces.
Skywalker’s hand immediately withdraws. “Does it bother you when I—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“The answer is still the same.”
Skywalker’s sigh is heavier than the entire Republic navy.
His mouth is too close to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he shivers as a result. But it’s only because the cold of the never-ending rain outside still lingers on their clothes and in their bones, even under the tent and close to the portable heater that a clone is still trying to adjust. And also because he’s been sitting there bare-chested for the past five minutes, with Skywalker’s clumsy fingers poking at his hip and ribs, probably way harder than necessary, just to see him suffer.
“I can apply a bacta patch myself, you can go n—”
“Would you please shut up? We both know a bacta patch wouldn’t be enough.”
Only the sound of a packet of antiseptic wipes being opened, gauze being stretched and the clone pushing buttons with no effect can be heard for a moment.
“I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me before,” Obi-Wan notes lightly, then grimaces when Skywalker starts pulling on the cloth pressed to his side.
“Don’t get used to it. But if it’s the only way to make you stop being so difficult and contradictory all the time, I will gladly say it more.”
Instead of looking at his own wound —the pain in his hip is enough, thank you, he doesn't need to see the extent of the damages— Obi-Wan glances at Skywalker. Gaze focused and mouth in a thin line, there’s only concentration written on his face.
No one could guess that only half an hour ago, on the battlefield, panic and terror were the only two emotions Skywalker was projecting loud enough in the Force to bring Obi-Wan out of unconsciousness.
Unbelievable, Obi-Wan has thought once he was aware enough to realise that it was Skywalker's hands on his face and Skywalker’s voice in his ear, begging him to come back. He would find a way to be annoying enough to drag me out of a coma if he could.
Surprisingly, the thought has felt like a comfort.
The clone working on the heater stands up suddenly. Obi-Wan almost forgot about him. He nods his head towards them, and goes out of the tent at the exact same moment Hyoid enters.
At the sight of the clone, all modicum of appreciation for Skywalker evaporate.
“You called a medic?” Obi-Wan scowls, with the tone of someone who has just been the victim of a vicious mutiny.
“Of course I called a medic. Half of your tunic is covered in your own blood and you were knocked out for a while earlier, what do you think I was going to do? Tell you to go back out there and watch you slowly bleed to death?”
“Generals,” the medic calls. In vain.
“You would enjoy that,” Obi-Wan grumbles.
“Well, yes, but then the Council will ask me why I let you die just a few meters away from a first aid kit, and then I’ll have to explain that I gently push it away from your weak hands every time you reached for it, and how will I look, then?”
“Like someone who could have let me die on the battlefield and get away with it, but decided instead to choose the most idiotic and time-consuming option available, and I would have enjoyed that very much.”
“Generals.”
“Exactly,” Skywalker nods, “and I can’t let you enjoy things.”
“I know. Don’t think I never realised who was flushing the toilets every time I was in the shower when the hot water came back two days ago.”
“You were so cheerful,” Skywalker says, as if the mere thought disgusts him. “I took that as a personal affront.”
“Sirs, please,” Hyoid implores louder. Both Jedi turn towards him, almost surprised to see him there. “I’m just here to see General Kenobi’s injury, I’m sure you can continue your conversation right after. Sirs. Please.”
It takes them a second to realise that they’re sitting so close together that Obi-Wan’s hand has settled on Skywalker’s knee when they weren’t paying attention, while Skywalker’s fingers are still maintaining Obi-Wan’s pants low on his hip so it won’t come in contact with the long gash on his side. The intimacy of the scene isn’t completely lost on Skywalker, it seems, because he rushes to take his hands away and stands next to his chair, suddenly too self-conscious to know what to do with himself.
“I’m very sorry about him,” Obi-Wan apologises, as the medic takes Skywalker’s seat and starts assessing the mess Skywalker undoubtedly made of his hip and ribs. “He’s a rescue. He still has no idea how to behave appropriately in polite society.”
An outraged noise comes from Skywalker behind him, and despite the throbbing pain, Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up. A hiss replaces his smile rapidly enough when Hyoid applies a spray and starts cleaning what Skywalker missed, before pressing stingy patches on the wound.
The medic is wise enough not to reply to him, but it doesn’t stop him from making a comment or two about how ‘this isn’t superficial sir, you should be more careful from now on,’ or ‘you’ll have to change the bandages, and I’ll get some pills for you to take’ and ‘ok, now let’s see your head, sir, don’t think General Skywalker didn’t mention it’.
His head is, indeed, becoming heavier by the minute, and he can feel himself growing too tired to care enough to listen carefully after that. Once he gives up answering questions and lets Skywalker do it for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to concentrate to feel him poking obnoxiously at him in the Force, testing the limits of his consciousness. It reminds him a bit of when Skywalker was a child, tugging on his robe every two minutes to make sure he was paying attention to him.
No wonder Obi-Wan always tried to avoid him.
“All right,” the medic finally says, pulling him out of his reverie. He stands up, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll get you your pills, and then you should rest.”
Rest sounds amazing. Obi-Wan would kill Skywalker for a good mattress and a soft pillow right now. But it doesn’t mean anything; he would probably kill Skywalker for two minutes of peace on the best of days.
The sudden silence that falls under the tent once Hyoid is gone seems almost unnatural. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside unsettles him so much, until he realises that it’s the first time since the battlefield that he’s alone with Skywalker.
“Are you going to keep sulking behind me?” Obi-Wan asks, finding his robe discarded on the floor and wondering if it’s worth leaning down to get it. No reply comes. “Well, you heard the medic. You can go now. I, unfortunately for you, will still live to see another...” he trails off as two arms slide over his shoulders from behind, wrapping around his neck and resting there.
Skywalker is warm against him.
For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he’s finally going to strangle him, but a golden head falls on his shoulder gently, face hidden by a cascade of curls, tickling Obi-Wan's neck and collarbone.
“Skyw—”
“Don’t be an insufferable asshole for a minute,” Skywalker mumbles, breath hot against his bare skin. “Just let me have this.”
Ah. It’s one of those moments, then.
He thought they were done with that for the day after what happened on the battlefield. Earlier.
With Skywalker’s face looming over him. Eyes so wide and so blue. One hand pressed against the wound in his side to stop the bleeding, one hand twisted in Obi-Wan’s tunic, right above his heart.
Being the one injured and barely conscious, but also being the one calming Skywalker down. Managing to get him to release his death-grip on him. Assuring him that he wasn’t going to die.
Promising it.
Twice.
Soothing the Hero with No Fear as he would soothe a lost and abandoned child.
“I told you already,” Obi-Wan says quietly. It feels wrong to speak louder when he knows they won’t look at each other for some time after that. “It’s all right. I’m fine now. It’s over.”
The arms around him tighten, mirroring the weight of Skywalker’s presence in the Force around Obi-Wan.
“I thought you’d left me,” Skywalker says accusingly, sounding remarkably like his nine-year-old self. “I thought you’d left me behind again.”
Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if not seeing it would erase the fact he’s indulging his instinct to nuzzle his face against Skywalker’s hair. He smells like the rain, muddy but fresh, and feels like lingering distress in the Force. It’s far from pleasant to remain close to such an unbalanced mind, and their position isn’t comfortable either. But Obi-Wan doesn’t shiver from the cold anymore. So they don’t move.
They’ve earned that second of weakness.
Obi-Wan’s hand comes up to scratch at Skywalker’s head gently, fingers tangling with unruly locks of hair. Slowly, his muscles relax and he leans into the touch, chest slumped against Obi-Wan’s back. Skywalker’s face turns towards his throat, nestled under his jaw, before exhaling, deep and warm. In the Force, Skywalker’s signature curls against Obi-Wan’s and quiets down to a low satisfied rumble, dragged away from dread and terror one caress at a time.
Obi-Wan’s mind is suddenly way too tired to be bothered by the tenderness of it all.
“I’m here now, with you,” he whispers in his hair. “That’s all that matters.”
It’s a quiet apology that Skywalker accepts with a satisfied humming noise that resonates in Obi-Wan’s whole body.
It feels a bit like an apology for more. For everything. For all the times he avoided and pushed him away as a child. For condemning him for reasons he didn’t want to admit to himself. For wanting to blame him, for taking his master away, for being such a better padawan than he was, for rubbing it in his face.
For wanting to be his friend, always.
Obi-Wan has been wrong for so long.
When the medic comes back, Skywalker is kneeling in front of the heater, cursing it quietly, and Obi-Wan is adjusting his robe around his shoulders with slow movements.
“All right, sir, this is what you’ll have to take before every meal,” Hyoid says, showing him a small bottle, before putting a white box on the table. “And these are the bandages and the bacta to change every day. I would advise you not to do it yourself, and if you don’t have anyone to—“
“I’ll do it,” Skywalker declares without looking up, and Obi-Wan immediately narrows his eyes.
“You? I can’t even trust you with my toothpaste tube, what makes you think—“
“I don’t care what you say Kenobi, there is no wrong way to squeeze toothpaste!”
“There is, and you do it on purpose. What kind of savage would squeeze it right in the middle—”
Skywalker suddenly turns towards Hyoid, talking over him. “How many pills would it take to be considered a lethal dose, do you think?”
It is, of course, the one comment that ignites a virulent and pointless argument that makes the poor medic reconsider all his life choices and wonder if chloroforming Jedi generals would get him court-martialed.
After seven minutes of a loud and dramatic dispute ending with Skywalker promising to never take part in anything related to Kenobi anymore, except maybe his funeral, Hyoid decides to risk it.
#anakin: I can't believe I have to tenderly tend to this bastard's wounds#and take care of him for the rest of our lives#everyone: you don’t have to#anakin: no no I’m gonna#so when are they furiously kiss each other in the middle of a screaming row#obikin#clem's aus#fic i did write#jedi but enemies au
525 notes
·
View notes
Note
Are you confident Bughead will be endgame on this show? That’s literally the last strand I’ve been holding onto, but the thread is weakening. I really can’t believe that they would take this ship, their absolute most popular and loved one, and just end it like this forever. I am so angry with the writing!!
Hey there, anon! It is unbelievable, isn’t it?
What a tricky question you ask! confidence + prediction + the Riverdale writers ... As Jughead would say: yikes!
The thing with these writers is that they use a lot of words without knowing their meaning. “Endgame” is one of them. “New” is another. “Exciting”. “Darkness”™. “Adult stories”. “The message”…
Dangling the bughead “endgame” carrot at the end of one or two seasons of no bughead or -worse- of b*rchie and j*bitha f.e. is not an endgame. The general definition of endgame -outside of chess- is: the last stage of a process. If the process (i.e. the season’s content) isn’t about bughead, then bughead coming together at the very end is not an endgame, it's a peripeteia i.e. a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances.
In shipping, endgame is a couple that will inevitably end together (for ever and ever and ever). In order for something to be inevitable, you have to create that sentiment, you have to build the couple up.
There’s an article about the misappropriation of the word “endagame” that I find particularly funny, as it starts by mentioning Riverdale!
Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say that, yes, I do believe that the show will end with bughead and varchie as their main canon couples. It’s just that, like you, I’m so very tired with these story lines. There is satisfaction to be had at the notion of endgame but a seasonful of investigative bughead would be infinitely preferable. For me (and I can only speak of myself) the journey is more important than the destination -even if for the simple reason that -in TV show time- it lasts longer!
Why do I think bughead is still … that word? Everything’s under the cut, so as not to clutter your dash!
1. A lot of people have been theorising that what happened in 5x18 was not the original plot. I agree.
Let’s start with 5x18 varchie.
Their break up came completely out of left field. Its unexpectedness is reminiscent of 4x17. I make fun of how s5 is a reboot of s1+s2’s leftover ideas, so another copy-paste shouldn’t feel out of place, and yet … really? Another repetition? To what end? If the season’s goal was not varchie, b*rchie was already there waiting at the beginning of the time jump! Why abandon that plot? In terms of romantic varchie time, that was extremely limited, since after their kiss in 5x7, Veronica’s divorce kept them apart until 5x17 … Why have Archie being extremely jealous of Chad, Veronica getting involved in all of Archie’s schemes (firefighters, bulldogs), Archie getting involved in Ronnie’s (rescuing daddykins) or Veronica telling her father she chooses Archie over him in 5x17? Also, for those who remember, there was this by the-writer-who-shall-not-be-named.
The reason of the break up is as ludicrous as Veronica moving into Archie’s childhood bedroom (with its effing slanted roof!) on the premise that long term the Andrews’ residence has more room! (By the way, I don’t know what surprised me more: that Veronica thought that Archie and uncle Frank would know who Ina Garten is or that Jughead didn’t.) Why is Veronica astounded by Archie’s involvement in the same activities he has been involved in all through the season?! For f***’s sake, she’s the one that gifted him the fire truck!
Ok. Now let’s give 5x18 j*bitha a try.
For me, 5x18 could either have gone bugheadwards or j*bithawards. J*bitha had some heartfelt talks, a hand touch, a hallucination and a kiss. Bughead had one unfinished heartfelt talk (the only one in the whole season for Betty), two shoulder touches, two hallucinations and Jughead attempting to reconnect with Betty (without specifying what his intent was, it's true).
While I do think that j*bitha is a ship that has been adequately teased, the way they were explored in 5x18 was … not underwhelming exactly (after all, they’re not my ship, so I didn’t have any expectations about them) but … maybe lukewarm is the word? They had but minimal dialogue, only enough to establish that Tabitha’s parents were in town. Then a song where Tabitha initially rejects Jughead, although she had been supportive before. Then another song, where the lyrics were heavily altered and didn’t make much sense anyway (we hadn’t been properly introduced to the Tates) but where the original lyrics were very compatible with Bughead’s history and state of being as of 5x17. The kisses were ok, I have no problem with the actors’ chemistry. But -and this is strictly a personal opinion- Jughead’s flirting scenes (not the make-out ones, you perverts!) with Cora were better and so was the j*bitha kiss in 5x10. For the 5x18 j*bitha to flow, more dialogue and more flirting was necessary (always a persona opinion). So, no, I don’t think j*bitha were supposed to sing what they sang in 5x18.
Production for s5 wrapped up one week after the official announcement of the 5 special episodes for Riverdale and The Flash: “we expect it will take us until Fall 2022 to get back to a regular schedule” was the official quote. Re-organising the cw’s overall schedule didn’t happen overnight. Yes, more likely than not, the writers knew about the specifics of s6a before shooting 5x18-5x19 and had time to re-write them.
2. The couples spoilers for s6 do not make sense plot-wise.
If the end-goal for 5x19-6x1 had been b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie all along, these were pairs already happening (except from v*ggie) at the beginning of the time-jump. As for v*ggie, last time we saw them, Veronica pulled a face when she heard that he had had (still has?) an affair with Hermosa. And what about Nana Rose?! (ok, that was a joke! ... or was it? 👀)
The majority of both the fans and the general audience are bugvarchie shippers. Teasing b*rchie and j*bitha as a means of maintaining the viewers’ interest in a will they/won’t they way, only works if the audience finally gets what they want. In this season. Not the next one! There is so much trolling one can take after all. In the space of 1.5 year (4x17-5x19) b*rchie will have been teased ... THREE times (and still lacking build-up)!
I cannot myself see b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie as endgame couples. For the audience to invest in them after 4 years of bugvarchie, the writers have to a) give j*bitha an absolutely incredible development that will surpass bughead and the cinematography to go with it (good luck with that) and b) undo Archie’s character (highly unlikely) and/or give Betty a lobotomy (at which point a lot of people will quit en masse, because Archie as The One All The Girls Want just doesn't resonate with the majority).
I have no idea if s6a is an AU or not. But if it’s not, no one will be left to watch 6b.
Can I guarantee a bughead endgame? Of course not. I have no idea how the minds of the Riverdale writers work. But I do think that Jughead and Betty getting back together is more than wishful thinking.
Fervently shipping Jughead/Betty, Jughead/his book and Betty/therapy, sincerely yours, @raymondebidochonlifechoices
I hope you have fun with the Riverdale universe regardless, dear anon. Riverdale has given us one of the most beautiful getting-together stories in s1 and lots and lots of beautiful canon bughead afterwards. Here's to many more! Much love to you!
#asks#anon#Bughead#Riverdale writer's negativity#(what's new?)#anti-b*rchie#anti-j*bitha#Riverdale season 5 speculation#Riverdale season 6 speculation
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
are you into age play at all? obv totally ok if not, i just have the idea of padawan/knight anakin getting injured after a mission and morally dubious obi-wan babying him bc clearly anakin can’t taken care of himself - and ofc anakin is humiliated but also very much into it
i actually have some nuanced thoughts on this, not just horny ones (surprise!) so apologies in advance if you wanted something completely nasty.
so, in my head, my version of obikin: deep down (maybe not as deep as either of them would like to admit), there's a part of anakin that wants to be taken care of by obi-wan. and there's a part of obi-wan that longs to take care of anakin. maybe because it was obi-wan's job for a decade. maybe it's because anakin is the poster boy for parental figure issues. maybe it's just because they really love each other. whatever it is, it's there. but of course anakin doesn't know how to ask for anything from obi-wan, and obi-wan is always trying to respect anakin's obvious desire to be his own man. from here, i think about an au setting in which palpatine is Fuckin Dead and our boys get to be together. in that scenario, i can see the slow blossoming of a relationship that has dynamics similar to age play.
in my fic, baptisms, baby, i mention obi-wan taking care of anakin; cutting his food for him, helping him dress, etc etc. so, there are some elements that i do enjoy, and find comfort in. for me personally, im currently not on my meds and its lead to some behaviors im not too happy with (not eating, can't get out of bed, the works) so there is definitely a part of me that resonates with wanting someone to take care of you and help you (esp obi-wan. it is known he is my love). i think it's less about the actual act of age play, and more about the headspace for me? i'm not necessarily into wanting to feel like a child, but the feeling of not having to worry about anything cus someone else loves you enough to take care of you is very appealing. idk if that makes sense. hopefully it does.
from a purely horny standpoint: i've mentioned obi-wan being anakin's brother/father figure several times in my fics. i like my boys nasty, and the taboo is fun to play with. i really love the dynamic where they not only acknowledge these parts of their relationship, but embrace them. giving them the range of obi-wan spanking anakin in a non sexual way cus he talked back, to anakin getting railed and calling obi-wan daddy. there's a lot to work with there. and i have zero doubts ill continue to explore this dynamic so !! keep the suggestions coming.
now, about your suggestion: morally dubious obi-wan babying anakin, slowly sinking him into a headspace,,, oh yeah. it's embarrassing, and anakin kinda wants to die, but the way obi-wan is talking, treating him, it makes him feel so... small. loved. also, horny. it's confusing, and he almost wants to cry. but his master is giving him exactly what anakin dreams about right? ughhhhh this is good.
bonus: GayCheerios on ao3 has a plethora of age play fics ! give em a read. they help me w my anxiety sometimes. <3
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
andante, andante
pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.
“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?”
“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.”
You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”
“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be.
“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head.
“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”
Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”
The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ”
He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.
You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -
i’m sorry
im so so sorry.
can we talk
please
You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.
You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.
hi jungkook i’d love to talk
are u ok
Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.
In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.
“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled.
At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.
“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs.
A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother.
The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?
“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back.
“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.”
“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you.
You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.
“Hey, cutie.”
And there it was.
Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”
A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh.
“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”
Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.
“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”
“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.
“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”
Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”
“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him.
He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.”
Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”
He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.
“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?”
“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”
He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.”
“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest.
“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”
Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”
A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so.
“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.
Then came the finale.
The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up.
Exhibit one -
“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed.
It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila.
You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.
Exhibit two -
“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in.
She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?
Exhibit three -
“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”
You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!”
“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”
You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook.
So that was that.
By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.
And finally: exhibit four.
“Hey.”
You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next.
You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?”
His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.
Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature.
“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”
Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?”
Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven.
His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.”
Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks.
Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name.
He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”
It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all.
Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms.
“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’
No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.
No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.
It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.
There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell.
Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him.
“You remember anything from yesterday?”
“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.”
“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”
“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”
Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.
“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.
/
The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.
Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head.
His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.
The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed.
You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring.
“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion.
“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”
“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”
He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”
You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.”
Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.”
You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”
He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.”
“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”
His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers.
“Not just the alcohol talking?”
“No.”
You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.
“Sor—“
“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.”
You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.
He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room.
Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right?
While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered.
There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”
The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him.
He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.
“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape.
“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.
You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead.
You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.
“Yes?”
“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed.
In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.
For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.
At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm.
And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been.
/
“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.
“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”
You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”
“Scooch over, babe.”
Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.
The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground.
Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.
“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.”
“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”
He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”
“What, where?”
“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.”
Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.
Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.
Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”
You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.”
“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”
Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”
“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”
“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.
He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?”
“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”
“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”
You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously.
“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous.
“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”
“Yeah, yeah, bye.”
/
The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.
“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”
“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”
“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”
You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath.
It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place?
“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”
You hear the voice before you see the face.
Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook.
“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point.
Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.
Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again.
“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.
It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior.
The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.
His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.
You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.
He blinks. “You … you have?”
You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”
After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.”
You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.
“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.
“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”
“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.”
“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you.
His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”
You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?”
“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.”
You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.
“How long?”
He exhales. “A while.”
“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”
He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”
“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”
At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.
Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.
Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.
“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”
A pause.
“What do you mean?”
“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”
He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”
“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”
He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”
“Should we try it?”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.
“But then it’ll be awkward.”
“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”
A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”
“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”
Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear.
“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”
If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.
But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.
He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.
Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.
“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.
In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees.
“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.”
He hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”
It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate.
The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you.
Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.
It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder.
When was the last time someone looked at you like that?
The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.
When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him.
“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper.
“I’m embarrassed.”
You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”
“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.”
“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing.
“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”
“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”
“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”
“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”
His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.”
“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.
It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”
Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”
His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.
“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”
a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99
originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33
391 notes
·
View notes
Text
daffodils in winter (1); l.jh
✪ summary: in ancient times, only two lovers were able to sway hades into granting them a second chance at life together. even so, a single look back doomed their love story to inevitably remain a tragedy. but is fate truly set in stone or are we able to mold it with our own hands? ✪ pairing: orpheus!jihoon x eurydice!reader ✪ genre(s): angst, fluff, reincarnation au, modern greek mythology au, just,,,, a lot of pining ✪ word count: 3.2k words
✪ a/n: surprise @custardheart!! i’m your cwc secret santa! c: <33 i had so much fun trying to not to make it obvious that it was me HAHAH i even told you my dog’s nickname in case you had seen him before. i always love our conversations hahah it feels like we could just talk for hours and hours, especially since we have so much in common hehehe you are literally one of the sweetest people i know on cwc and i’m so glad to call you my friend!!
anyway, this took me so long and it’s not even complete ���� i really wanted to try making a fic that caters to you and all the things you like reading so i just tried throwing it all in there LOL also peep the banner bc i tried to imitate your blog aesthetic too (which i LOVE by the way). since i didn’t want to leave you empty-handed or for you to think i forgot about you while i complete this fic, i decided to just release it in parts adkjsfals hopefully that’s ok!!
merry christmas and happy new year, taylor!! I LOVE YOUUU 🥺💖
It was nearly 10pm but the night was as lively as ever with people bustling and weaving along like the small stream that flowed through the middle of the stone-paved walkway. They strolled down the worn path on which thousands of footsteps had passed before them, their breaths lingering in the December air as they laughed together and whispered soft wishes. The harsh bite of winter never deterred couples from coming out to the walkway; in fact, many lovers used the cold as an excuse to clasp each other’s hands tighter, to press their warm bodies closer together. Even on the harshest nights, the walkway welcomed a handful of couples who would stay until the early hours of the morning.
This could, in part, be attributed to the walkway itself, or rather what could be found on the walkway. Anyone who stepped along the trodden path would soon find the walkway’s source of life and warmth: a flower stand. Now there were many walkways with flower stands, some even host more than one stand, but none ever seen like this. Even in the middle of winter, the humble stand teemed as though it were early spring with its variety of soft pink tulips, vibrantly purple violas, dainty white snowdrops, and daffodils so yellow they nearly glowed. Each flower was in almost unnaturally pristine condition-- there was never one droopy petal or dried up leaf. Rumor stated that if you bought a bouquet for your significant other, your relationship would surely last a lifetime, outlasting the winters that you might endure.
Jihoon, of course, knew that this was all a very elaborate marketing scheme to lure out crowds of hopeful couples. While he didn’t have a green thumb himself, he figured that technology must have advanced enough to allow for such beautiful flowers to exist despite the cold, but he wasn’t all too invested in finding out the how’s and what-for’s of the small stand. As long as it brought out the crowds, Jihoon couldn’t care less if the stand scammed naive romantics into throwing away their money for some flimsy symbol of everlasting love. What mattered to him was finding an audience, and he knew, without doubt, that he would find one here. He could already feel the lingering eyes of passersby as he arranged his amp and microphone, filling him with a bubbling anticipation that made his fingers itch for his guitar.
Despite the tattered appearance of the case, the guitar within seemed to be lined with gold along its edges, gleaming fantastically under the light of a street lamp. Upon closer inspection however, it was apparent that the instrument was well-worn with its own array of scuffs and scratches along the neck and body from its many years of performance. The guitar fit into Jihoon’s hands as if it were molded to be held by him, and he smiled to himself as he strummed each string to check for tuning. Just like that, he felt home.
“Do you always have to set up so close to me?” At the sound of your voice, Jihoon felt his grin widen, and he immediately looked up to make sure that you saw it in all its smug, cheeky glory. You stood to the side with a pair of stem clippers in hand, which he might have found intimidating had you not been holding a daffodil in the other. The endearing smile that itched at the corners of your lips didn’t do much to scare him either.
“This is where all the foot traffic is, so yes,” he mused teasingly. He then pointed to the flower in your hand. “I see you’re getting ready to shower me in flowers after my performance. People usually throw roses though, you know.”
“Okay, just don’t let it get of hand this time,” you said over your shoulder, already turning back to return to your flower stand. He didn’t dare look away, because on your third step back, you always twirled to face him for a moment to flash your unfaltering smile at him, which he mirrored.“The whole neighborhood must have thought you were having a concert with all the people that came out.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” he called after you, but you had already returned to your post, greeting several new customers who looked at your bouquets with awe and wonder.
As you began to gather flowers for a couple’s request, you could hear Jihoon finally open his set with a healing, energetic tune that had the small crowd clapping along to the beat. The first time he had come out to the walkway, it had shocked you how the first note he strummed had immediately taken a hold of you, how it had somehow melted your concentrated frown into a smile with ease. It had been the end of a long day and you were ready to close up shop when a boy had set up for a busking session nearby. Although he only brought one small amp, you felt each note resonate in your chest, and felt the music brush your skin as though it hung in the air like a mist. Suddenly, thoughts of your stressful day had dissipated, dissolved by the boy’s guitar and clear, pure voice. It was unlike anything you felt before.
And yet, it was so easy for you to give in to the enchanting sensation, falling into its embrace like you were reunited friends.
Now you anticipated the way the melody gently tugged your lips into a smile and how your heart beat seemed to fall into rhythm with each chord. You knew you weren’t the only one so strongly moved by the music though. The customers you were currently tending to, a young couple new to the walkway, had immediately turned their heads towards Jihoon as he continued his set with another lighthearted tune about confessing and butterflies. Their sparkling eyes told you that you weren’t the only one moved by Jihoon’s music, and you couldn’t help but notice how they subconsciously reached for each other’s hands, fingers intertwining fondly. Much to your concern, a wistful sigh escapes your lips at the sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a dull ache blanket over your chest.
You tried shaking your head to rid yourself of the feeling, rushing to finish wrapping up the flowers in brown paper and string. “Your bouquet is ready!” you said much louder than intended, snapping the couple from their daze. Both blinked in surprise at their clasped hands as if just realizing how close they’d gotten, and you bit back a giggle when they could no longer meet each other’s eyes. Much like many of your other customers on the nights that Jihoon busked, they immediately joined his audience after paying, unable to get enough of his sweet voice. You stared after them for a bit, feeling somewhat intrusive as they overcame their initial hesitance and held hands once more. And suddenly it was there again: this time it felt more restless like you were waiting, but for what, you didn’t know.
It wasn’t the first time you felt this way. In fact, every time it creeped up on you like this, it frightened you how it settled in the pit of your stomach so effortlessly as if it had made a home there, deep inside you. It made you feel like you had been waiting for tens of thousands of lifetimes. Like you had been waiting so long that you forgot what you were waiting for.
At this point, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember.
Throughout your life, the weight in your chest had made itself known only a handful of times, usually in quiet moments when the dark felt like it could swallow you up. It was the reason why you took refuge in the bright hustle and bustle of the walkway and why you lingered if only to be surrounded by your flowers. But now, it followed you even in the middle of a crowd, in the midst of the music.
“Hi! Could I get some roses?” The voice of a new customer finally tugged your attention from the couple, allowing for the pressure in your chest to dissolve for the moment.
“Of course you can, sir,” you chirped, relieved for the distraction. “What color? Would you like a bouquet?”
The customer, who stood alone, seemed to wiggle in thought. “Red, I guess! Don’t worry about wrapping them up! I’ll just take them as is, since I’ll be throwing them to that busker over there.”
“Oh! Wow, he must have made a real fan out of you, sir.”
At your statement, he let out a chuckle. “Oh, for sure. I wish he chose a warmer venue though.I guess that can’t be helped,” he said, giving you a meaningful nod, eyes gleaming as they always seemed to. You were taken aback by the sudden realization: You’ve met him before.
“Right,” you replied absentmindedly, forcing yourself to focus on gathering the last of your customer’s order in an attempt to mask your bewilderment. You were positive that you had never seen this man’s face in your life, yet you were struck with the insistence that not only did you know him, but that he knew you too. He was there, somewhere in your memory. But the closer you tried to get, the further you seemed to step into a murky fog; was it a far away memory or was it just a dream? Chancing a glance at him only served to fluster you even further, especially with the way his smile made you feel as though he could sense your inner bewilderment. You cleared your throat and timidly returned his smile as you handed him his roses. “Anyway uh-- here is your order, sir! He’s about to play the last of his set, so you should probably get over there. Hopefully he likes them!”
“Oh, I’m sure he will love them,” the customer grinned, placing cash in place of the flowers. “Well, I’ll see you around!”
And with a quick wink, he made his way to join Jihoon’s audience, and once more, you were left to deal with your thoughts on your own. What was it with the customers and launching you into emotional reveries tonight? You decided that that was a good excuse as any to close up shop for the night; you weren’t sure that you’d be able to handle another bout of deja vu or inexplicable longing. Plus you wanted to properly watch Jihoon’s last song, as you always did. You glanced over at him as you cleaned up, but you were quick to avert your gaze when he suddenly met your eyes and offered you a wide grin.
As much as you enjoyed his music, you couldn’t ignore how his appearance in your life coincided with these recurring feelings. It was perplexing how it seemed that with one strum of his guitar, he somehow brought you both comfort and simmering unease. But if you were being honest, you couldn’t say you hated it. You knew that if you asked him to set up a little more upstream, your flower stand would undoubtedly become your haven once more. It was an easy fix. Simple. But even when his weekly busks frequented to every other day, you only found yourself clutching tighter to that moment of elation when he began a performance.
When you stood there and listened to him play, you had a growing certainty that you would go through any length of suffering if it meant you could keep that moment.
Jihoon was barely able to sing his last note when the crowd drowned him out with applause and, to his surprise, showered him in several roses from the stand. He caught one in his hand, eyes shining with laughter as he immediately searched for your face. Instead of finding you though, he caught sight of someone that wiped the smile from his lips. Before he could so much as curse under his breath, the man took hold of his microphone and addressed the audience.
“Bravo, bravo! Ladies and gentlemen, please give another round of applause for Woozi, Olympic Entertainment’s feature producer! Woo!” the man boomed a little too close to the mic. “Olympic Entertainment sincerely thanks you for all of your love and support from this past year. We hope that you can continue supporting us and listening to Woozi’s ballads in this upcoming year. Please be on the lookout for his new single that we will be releasing on New Year’s Day!”
As the crowd erupted into murmurs and whispers, the man turned to beam at Jihoon, who replied with a stare as cold as the wind. “Soonyoung, what are you doing here?”
“The boss wants you to stop screwing around and get back to the studio,” Soonyoung said with a shrug.
“I’m not screwing around! You know damn well why I came out here--”
“Hey, those were his words not mine-- I’m just delivering them.” Jihoon tensed when he felt Soonyoung’s hand on his shoulder, having half a mind to shrug it off. He knew though, that Soonyoung had little choice when it came to the boss’ word, and neither did he. There was no use in taking out his frustrations on his friend, especially when the damage was already done. “You know that I would never have taken it that far if I didn’t have to.”
Jihoon sighed, nodding. “I know. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
The crowd gradually dispersed as Jihoon packed away all of his equipment, and suddenly, he felt the full force of winter without the warmth of the crowd shielding him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so cold. After his previous busk sessions, several people in the audience would stay a while longer and approach him, usually to make conversation about his music or to simply thank him for the performance. Now they kept their distance, looking his way discreetly while they whispered about who he really was like he couldn’t hear them. Jihoon scoffed and slammed his guitar case shut, numb fingers fumbling at the clasps.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t have to look up to know that it was you.
“I’m fine,” he huffed out, jaw clenched. When you didn’t make any move to leave, he gave in and looked at you, a grave mistake on his part. At the sight of your sympathetic smile, he sat back down on the bench; there was no use struggling to put up a front when you seemed to see right through it anyway. You sat on the opposite end of the bench, facing him to show that you were there to listen. After all those times he came here, this was probably the closest you’d ever gotten to him, and yet Jihoon found himself wishing you had sat closer. “Well, I’ve been better.”
“I’m sorry that I sold that guy those flowers. If I had known that he was going to do that, I--”
“No, that was all on me,” Jihoon said quickly, unable to let you apologize any further when you were merely doing your job. “You probably think I just came here for some promotional stunt.”
“I mean I didn’t, but now that you mention it…” Without knowing it, Jihoon let out a chuckle at your teasing. “Even if it was for promotions, I don’t think anyone here would mind. Plenty of people busk to promote themselves. I don’t think that makes their songs any less genuine.”
He shook his head, the sigh that left his lips hanging in the air for a moment. “I mind. I love my job and everything, but I really needed a break from all that extra stuff. I came here because I knew it would just be about the music. No one had stopped to listen because it was my music or if it was a Woozi production or whatever. They only listened because they liked it. Now I won’t know if that’s actually the case.”
“I don’t see why they can’t enjoy your music while knowing who you are,” you said, eyebrows scrunched together, and Jihoon watched as you rested the side of your head against the back of the bench. Have your eyes always been this captivating? You dropped your voice to a stage whisper. “Is that your secret? Is your music magical only for those who don’t know your true identity?”
“Something like that. Isn’t my music a bit more impressive if I’m just a regular person and not a professional producer?” Jihoon laughed. “I mean, imagine if people knew the secret behind how you grow your flowers in the winter. Don’t you think they’d be less inclined to buy them?”
You snorted. “I don’t have a secret, though?”
“Oh come on, you literally sell springtime flowers in the winter! You must get them imported or have some kind of fancy greenhouse.”
“I literally can’t even rent a space to sell my flowers indoors. I can’t afford any of that! They’re just flowers that I’ve grown in my garden. I tell people how I grow my flowers all the time and it doesn’t change anything. It still means something to them,” you said insistently. And then, softer, “Just like how knowing you’re some big shot producer doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never heard music like yours before.”
Jihoon swallowed, wanting more than ever to close the distance between the two of you. It was a gravity that he felt ever since his first performance, something he had originally attributed to the walkway and how perfect it was for his busks. As he sat here beside you though, the force seemed to tug at his chest almost painfully until it was aching. With his hands clenched, he tore his gaze away from you, unsure of what he was going to say next. His thoughts were fuzzy, like a static television screen going in and out of focus, and the only image he could make out was you. Or at least he hoped that it was you.
“By the way, ballads? I’ve only ever heard you play happy songs.”
“This was the only place I could play them,” Jihoon replied quietly. When his eyes met with yours, he was taken aback by how much he meant it; even if he tried to play these songs in the studio, he was certain that it wouldn’t be the same at all. Forcing a smile, he finally met your eyes again. “It was nice while it lasted.”
“Wait, are you not… are you not going to come back anymore?”
“I don’t think I should. There wouldn’t be any point, right? Since people know who I am now.”
“Oh.” I still don’t know who you are. This time, you were the one to turn away from him, a small frown on your lips. A harsh wind came in then, ruthlessly rustling the bare branches of trees and lifting loose petals from the ground around your stand. They swirled in the air wildly for several moments before raining down on where you and Jihoon sat in silence. Seeing how he shivered, you took the scarf off your neck and wrapped it around his own. “Here take this.”
“W-what about you?” When he moved to return the item, you shook your head and smiled.
“I’m used to the cold.”
#caratwritersclub#seventeen#seventeen scenarios#woozi#woozi scenarios#lee jihoon#jihoon scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#cwc secret santa#I"M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
🔑 Keiys to Your Heart - Vampire
Taglist: (lmk if you want to be added!) @soft-black-teabag @artzyyangel @bluejayjay @mysticpenguincreation @raftel-is-waiting @lifeisamuffin
Keiys to Your Heart Masterlist Main Masterlist
Warning: small mentions of blood, one suggestive(?) comment
Genre: Vampire!au, tiny bit of angst
————————————————————
“Brave of you to venture here.”
You jumped at the voice and looked around the forest for the source, but there was nothing. All you can see is the towering trees blocking out any light from the sky, though there wasn’t much light to begin with, for the sun do not shine in Lamia. No wonder vampires thrive so much here, you thought. In the distance you can hear the crows cawing, and a slight breeze passed by, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.
A low chuckle resonated through the trees. “I must say, you do seem to have some courage within you compared to the other mortals I met.”
“Show yourself,” you demanded. “If you want to talk, we might as well do it face to face.” “As you wish.” A figure materialized out of the hazy mist in front of you. A tall boy leaned casually against a gnarled tree, looking at you curiously with a small smile on his face. He was dressed like a regular human, wearing ripped jeans and a loose black t-shirt, but you knew he was definitely not a mortal. It was his eyes who gave him away—they were wine-red, with golden hues. You inhaled sharply as you realized what that meant.
“What, surprised to see a vampire?” the boy lazily tapped his fingers together. “You are in one of the vampire lands after all.”
“It’s...my first time seeing one,” you mumbled. You knew you were bound to encounter one eventually, and that they might even be the reason behind your brother’s disappearance, but it was a shock to see one for the first time. For some reason, you felt attracted to the one in front of you. Something about him felt familiar, strangely enticing. “What’s your name?” You asked, trying to sound more confident.
His smile turned into a smirk. “K. You’re always calling me by my nickname, Y/N, how can you forget that?”
A shiver ran down your spine, and you stepped back. “How do you know my name?”
“It’s been 10,000 years, and you still haven’t changed.” K stepped closer to you, looking at you with almost a sadness in his eyes. “I found you after all these years, and you forgot everything. Don’t you remember anything about me?”
You tore your eyes away from his red eyes that bore into your soul. Heart thumping frantically, you said, “Don’t come any closer. I don’t know you.”
“Y/N!” Your eyes widened, hearing Geonu’s voice. K seemed to have heard it too, and you turned to see him disappear in a cloud of mist. “Yah, Y/N, don’t go wandering off again,” Geonu grumbled as he came into view. “At least tell me you’re going to go into the forest.” He stopped in front of you, and waved a hand in front of your face. “Y/N? You there?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah...hey,” you said absentmindedly, still thinking of your encounter with K.
Geonu frowned. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing,” you forced a smile. “Let’s go back to the tent. We’ll continue searching tomorrow, it’s late.”
Geonu nodded, still not convinced with your answer. “Alright then.”
—————————————————————————————— The howling started that night.
You just couldn’t fall asleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see K’s eyes again, and the conversation replay in your head. A million questions swirled around your mind. How did he know you? What happened between you two 10,000 years ago? What is this weird feeling you always get around him?
After tossing and turning for an hour, you decided to get some fresh air. Carefully stepping over the sleeping bag where Geonu lay, snoring, you opened the tent flap and stepped into the night. The moon shines its icy-white light upon you, and you felt comforted in its glow. The small clearing that you and Geonu had made your camp in was bathed entirely in moonlight. It was at the edge of the forest, close to the border between your homeland and Lamia, and if your strain your eyes, you can see small houses in the distance. A small pang of nostalgia filled you, but it was too late to go back. You have to find your brother, even if it takes searching every bit of Lamia.
You stretched your arms above your head and was about to head back into the tent when your eyes caught on something dark on the ground. Narrowing your eyes, you crept closer to the forest, eyes widening when you realize what it is.
A trail of blood littered the ground. Judging from the color, it was there pretty recently, though neither you or Geonu had notice anything out of ordinary this morning. Someone’s been murdered and dragged into the forest....while we were sleeping, you suddenly thought, noticing how the drops of blood was scattered haphazardly all around, and the ground around it was matted and bent in a certain direction. Impulsively, you started following the trail of blood.
You thought it was going to lead you to the same grove of trees that you met K at earlier, but it dipped towards an unfamiliar bend. Ahead, you saw a figure sitting down, leaning against a tree. It was too small to be K, but it looked vaguely familiar. Approaching it slowly, you gasped when you saw who it is.
It was your brother.
“Jungwon!” Kneeling down, you examined his face. His eyes were closed, his head tilted to one side. You drew in a deep breath when you saw a deep bite mark on his neck. “You—you got bitten...”
In the distance, the howling you had heard earlier started up again, making you stiffen. You have to get Jungwon out of here, and back to the tent before anything happens. From what you have read before, not only vampires live in Lamia, but also—
“Werewolves,” the voice behind you made you jump, and you whirled around to see K behind you. His eyes seem to glow in the dark, as he stared at you with the same intensity as before. “They’re coming, it’s the full moon tonight.”
“I’m not leaving my brother,” you said, going over to Jungwon and trying to pick him up. “I have to go back to camp and warn Geonu—”
“It’s too late for that,” K knelt down besides you and picked up Jungwon easily. Standing up, he turned to face you again. “I have a safe place we can go to. If you go back that way, the werewolves will attack you. Your brother already got bitten by a vampire, it won’t be safe for him, and even if you do make it back, you don’t know how he’ll be like after the transformation. He already lost so much blood.”
“But-” you started to protest, before you were cut off by another loud howl. It sounded much closer than before, and you clenched your hands into fists. What are you going to do?
“Trust me, Y/N,” K’s voice turned soft. “Please. I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would’ve done it sooner.”
You looked at him, uncertain. Why should you trust a stranger you’ve never met before, even though it seems like you two knew each other years ago? And a vampire, nonetheless. But it was between him and getting beaten up by werewolves, and you knew that you had no choice.
Hoping that you won’t regret your decision, you sighed. “Lead the way.”
——————-—-—————-——————————————— You watched anxiously as K patched Jungwon up, applying healing ointments onto his face and cleaning the bite mark. Fidgeting slightly, you looked around the small cabin you were in. It was sparsely furnished, with some stools placed at the corners, a couch that Jungwon was now lying on, and a table near the wall. You have a strange feeling of déjà vu, as if you been here before.
“Is Jungwon alright?” You shifted your focus back to K, as he pulled a blanket over your brother, then putting the medicine jar away.
“He’ll live,” K said. “It’ll take some time for him to recover, though. How did he end up like this?”
“I don’t know...” you bit your lip, “He disappeared from home a year ago, and I’ve been searching for him ever since. I couldn’t find any trace of him until a few months ago, when someone tipped Geonu off—oh my god, Geonu!” You stood up and rushed to the door. “He’s out there, all alone, I should’ve checked on him—”
“And risk crossing paths with the werewolves?” You turned back to see that K had stood up as well, frowning at you. “It’s best to wait until morning, you’ll put yourself in danger if you go now.”
You let out a sigh in frustration. “I can’t just leave him there! The werewolves will kill him!”
“Why do you care about him so much?” K suddenly burst out, his voice making you look at him, surprised. “Are you two dating or something?”
“No, he’s my friend,” you rolled your eyes. “Even if I was, why do you care so much? Actually,” you looked him straight in the eye. “Why are you so interested in me? And how do you even know me?”
K tilted his head to the side, contemplating you for a second. “Did you really forget, or are you just pretending not to know?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He stepped closer to you, and something in his gaze changed. He almost looked predatory, a wild fire in his eyes as he searched yours for lies. “You don’t remember anything at all?”
“N-no,” your confidence wavered under his intense stare, and you finally broke eye contact. Somehow, your eyes landed on a pendant hanging on his neck. Again, that same feeling of déjà vu washed over you, and a memory suddenly played in your mind: intertwined hands, soft laughter, the sunset. You blinked in confusion. Where did that come from?
“Really?” K’s voice sounded almost amused. “I think you do know something, Y/N.”
“I gave you that pendant,” you said, still eyeing it. It had a special meaning, you decided, to both you and him. “Because....we were....”
He was too close, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. You don’t know how the distance between you two had suddenly shortened, but his scent was intoxicating. You inhaled sharply as he put his lips to your ear, his breath fanning your neck.
“I can’t wait to mark you as mine again.”
#blood tw#I-land k#iland k#i-land kei#iland kei#i-land k imagines#iland k imagines#iland#i-land#iland imagines#i-land imagines#vampire au#au#iland au#i-land au#iland reactions#i-land reactions#keiys to your heart
57 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi how are u : )
quick writing q, how did you come up with original characters? are they star wars characters or just like general?
i feel like i have ideas but like. struggle to make them into people. if that makes sense.
hiya!!! i’m good, hope you’re doing well!!! (and thank you for asking this question because,,,you should know i geeked out temporarily because someone’s asking me about original characters??? whooo boy!!!)
also...things got lengthy (again), so i added all this under the cut!
okay, so i have like one (1) star wars original character named eiko, who i introduced in time, wondrous time. introducing eiko took a while and it was a lot of me being super anxious and kind of lowkey scared because...star wars fans tend to be a little protective, and sometimes original characters aren’t that well-liked, especially because of that fear of “mary sue”-ness and etc.
so in the case of a star wars original character and to avoid the problems specific to and inherent to all the problems we run into with original characters in fanfic writing, i just kind of. make sure that she’s actually got some traits that! people can mostly relate to!
so for instance, eiko’s just a very anxious kid who wants to be a good padawan, but:
how do you be a good padawan anyways when there were already so many amazing jedi who walked the path before you?
how do you handle those expectations?
are you harder on yourself because of it? probably.
do you glow when given compliments? absolutely.
and i guess when making a star wars original character, or an original character in any pre-established fandom, then you really want to make sure that if they’re connected to a canon character in some way, the canon character gets a storyline of their own.
the canon character and the original character can rely on each other from time to time, but i think it would be kinda boring if the original character just followed around canon characters and never figured things out for themselves.
basically: we want your original character to have some independence away from the canon characters.
how do they act when they’re alone?
what do they do in their free time? those are things to think about when you’re trying to better grasp an original character in a pre-existing fandom.
but in terms of writing original original characters, i have this thing where like. i just take a singular personality trait that (usually) i have and dial it up to 100000. because, as one of my own friends likes to say, we contain multitudes. there are so many lives and so many different facets of you that are sometimes fighting for the spotlight--and sometimes, i like to give those different facets a little bit more of a voice in original characters.
because really, chances are, those little bits of you that are still hiding around the corners? those traits are sometimes more exemplified in other people. so, like, if that was confusing (which i know it was), a quick example:
i will be the first to admit that sometimes, i can be an incredibly rude person. (idk how much of a surprise that is to people. i hope it’s a bit of a surprise, because i don’t like to be rude.)
and of course, there are tons of very, very, very rude people in real life. the reason why i’m not rude 24/7 is because there’s a part of me that dials it down a quick notch. but there are people out there who don’t have that dial, and they’re able to exist relatively freely just being the rude people they are.
so that’s kinda where i start in making my characters feel a little more real/also a little more diverse in character!
because as one of my creative writing instructors once told me, writers tend to be a quiet bunch. and i think anything we write--including characters--tend to reflect huge parts of ourselves, so imagine if we just had a cast of quiet characters who twiddled their thumbs all the time. that’s not a good story, and those aren’t always very dynamic characters. so have fun! take one singular trait that you find intriguing about yourself or in in others and say to yourself, “okay, but what if i dialed it up?” see where it gets you!
but i guess if we want to talk more about how to make characters feel like more real people, then i guess it goes down to the age-old question all writers need to ask when looking at their characters:
what does your character want?
think about it. anything your character wants is what is ultimately going to drive them forward to do what they’re going to do. act the way they’re going to act, say what they’re going to say.
there’s a story that i wrote a while back about a girl who’s the daughter of an assassin. she wants to be a lawyer, while her mom wants her to follow the family business and become an assassin as well.
so how does the mom act? the mom does everything in her power to get her daughter to be excited about being an assassin--lets her in on interrogation rooms, takes her to a shooting range, gets increasingly frustrated and turns up the denial denial denial mode every time her daughter talks about the possibility of law school.
the daughter? the daughter does everything in her power to make sure her mom knows that she doesn’t want to be an assassin. she deliberately lounges around during the interrogation, she misses all the targets on the shooting range on purpose, etc.
so, in essence: your characters have to want something first. as soon as they want something, the rest will slowly come to place. even if you’ve never been an assassin or the relative of one, you still probably relate to at least the feeling of wanting something badly, and all people know that feeling too! it’s real, and it’s human to want something.
combine that want with, idk, the type of background you have for your characters (and there’s a ton of different resources on developing that specifically), and soon, you’ll find yourself writing/communicating/tearing your hair out with a much more fleshed-out character.
and, if you’ve done all these and you still want to know a little more about your character, another thing to flesh out original characters/stories:
1. write fanfic of them. no, seriously, do it. sometimes you can’t really write your big story/novel/whatever right away, but you have a very specific scene or you want to reimagine them in a different setting and just play around with them. that’s okay! what are they like in a modern day high school au? in a coffeeshop au? play around with it, and see what’s consistent (do they meet the same people in the same manner over and over again? do they like to listen to one specific kind of music? do they still talk funny? do they still wear x?)
2. make playlists! like...music is personally one of my big inspirations, so this is where i usually throw in some good old playlists. more times than not, i’m able to write with my original characters with my original character’s specific playlist playing in the background. (and it’s wonderful! i have one character playlist that’s almost solely musical/disney music because she’s a very innocent kind of gal, while another playlist is very heavy punk/rock because that’s Just How She Is.)
3. write incorrect quotes! you know the ones i’m talking about--there are so many incorrect quote blogs on tumblr. i have a separate, private sideblog here on tumblr that’s completely dedicated to writing incorrect quotes of my original characters. i sometimes post screenshots of them here too, although i haven’t done that in a while. but incorrect quotes are fun, and they might give you a good idea of the kind of characters/archetypes you want them to fit into!
(and, because i can’t resist, here’s an example from my own original characters:)
galen: andrea, i need you to swear to me--
andrea: shit
galen:
galen: i meant swear like promise, andrea //
rosalind: crushes are the worst
dae: yeah, whenever i’m near one, i just start acting nervous
rosalind: you’re always nervous
dae: ...don’t think too hard
myung, tired: bold of you to assume rosalind thinks
4. alternatively, make a whole private side blog dedicated to your original characters and reblog/tag the posts that remind you of them. like, you know the “[x] characters as tumblr posts”? yeah. i do that a lot. so, just because i really can’t resist, some more examples:
“Bro, We Are Rivals . Its Ok To Pin ME Up Against A Wall . Im Ur Nemesis . I Hate You . ... Bro, We Are Kissing Now . . No Dont Stop Bro .. Bro ... // @gayarsonist
oh so you’re just going to wear a black turtleneck?? like some kind of slut?? // @allergic-alien
and sometimes, i’ll use that blog to also reblog poetry that resonates with my original characters/gifsets of actors/actresses that i would fancast as my original characters. (like,,,did i look at ewan mcgregor in mortdecai and gratuitously tag him as a villain character in one of my wips? yeah. yeah, i did. it’s fun writing that villain character now, though. :))
and those are all the tips that i have!!! i hope that helps!!! have fun writing, friend!!
#answered#anon#maybe i should start a tag called writing tips?#adsdsf i dont feel qualified to give writing tips though#but#just in case#writing tips#(also wow caroline stop writing...esssays challenge)#(but also im super excited about this can you tell)
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic: Haven (29/50)
Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.
But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…
The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…
Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.
Rated: T
==
Haven
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [AO3]
Summary: Imrul and Al bond over a mutual love of cats.
Characters: Al, Imrul (Scar), Fahim (Scar’s brother), Winry
==
Imrul is still getting used to the automail arm. There are moments when he wonders if going through the surgery and all of the related pain and stress was worth it, but in the end, he knows that he has the mental fortitude to go on.
He’s sitting in the garden of the Rockbell home, the arm resting on the table. Winry’s told him that he needs to get used to moving the hand and trying to pick things up with it, but he’s been having some trouble with it and he needs to take a break. He looks down at the metal fingers, moving them carefully one by one, going through all the exercises that Winry and Pinako have taught him. It’s tedious work, but he can feel that he’s making progress, even if it’s in miniscule steps.
There’s a sudden rustling sound from the hedge next to him, and he looks over.
“Esther! Esther, no, don’t go through there! Esther!”
It sounds like Alphonse Elric’s voice, and his head pops up over the hedge.
“Oh, erm, hello Mr Imrul. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you Alphonse. Can I help you?”
“Erm, yeah, is Den loose in the garden?”
“No, she’s inside.”
“Good. Erm, give me a minute.”
Al’s head disappears again, but the hedge rustling continues, and a very fat cat fights its way through the greenery and waddles towards the patio where Imrul is sitting. As the cat gets closer, he sees that it’s not exactly fat, but rather about to burst with kittens. She plods to Imrul’s feet and sits down, looking up at him expectantly.
Instinctively, Imrul reaches down to pet her, but then realises he’s reached with the metal hand and stops short.
“It’s ok, she won’t mind.” Al is now coming in at the garden gate and making his way up the path towards them. “You can stroke her.”
Imrul just continues to look down at the metal hand. He doesn’t entirely trust himself to be gentle; the pressure reception is a little off and he has no fine motor function yet.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, no, it’s ok. Winry would say that it would be good for your rehab to try making gentle movements.” Al reaches them and sits down on the patio beside the cat, stroking her.
Her purr is like an earthquake; Imrul can almost feel it vibrating from where he’s still hovering above her.
“She’s your cat?”
“Sort of. Not really. She’s a stray, but I take care of her and make sure she’s safe and fed. She likes to pick fights with Den so I try to keep her out of here normally.” He pauses. “We can’t have animals at home, they’re allergic to my dad.”
Imrul raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean the other way round?”
“Nope.” He offers no further explanation, and instead gently lifts Esther up onto the table. For a stray she’s remarkably docile, even if her expression is a long-suffering one. “I’m sure that you can have one of the kittens when she has them. I don’t think Mom will let me keep them.” He strokes her again as she awkwardly lies down between them in a sunbeam.
Imrul reaches out with his left hand and strokes her soft fur.
“Did you have pet cats back home?” Al asks.
Imrul nods. “They were supposed to be kitchen cats really, mousers. Fahim always said I coddled them too much.” He smiles at the memory. “Maybe that’s true.”
Al laughs. “Well, I don’t think that Esther’s complaining.”
The cat in question is back to purring like nothing Imrul has ever heard, and he looks down at his metal hand again. He knows that he won’t be able to feel the heat or the softness of Esther’s fur through it, but he should be able to feel the vibration.
Very carefully, he touches the metal fingertips to her head. There’s a confused little ‘mrow?’ as she suddenly feels the cool, unyielding metal instead of warm hands, but Imrul strokes her with his left hand and she goes back to purring again. He can feel the resonance all the way up his automail arm and once again, he finds himself admiring Winry’s engineering expertise.
He strokes Esther’s head very carefully with one finger. She doesn’t seem to be perturbed.
“She likes you,” Al observes. “She normally gets bored and tries to bat people away by now.”
Imrul continues to pet Esther as gently as he possibly can. Her eyes are closed, legs stretched out in the sun, utterly content.
“Why did you call her Esther?” he asks Al.
“I don’t know. I figured she just looked like an Esther.” Al looks critically at the cat. “Dad says it means ‘star’ in one of the old Xerxian dialects. It’s a better name than Milkbeard. Ed wanted to call her that.”
Being an all brown cat apart from a white splodge on her chin, Imrul can see why the moniker would be fitting, and agrees that Esther is a better name.
“Ed’s not very good at naming cats.” Al gives a long-suffering sigh. “One of the ones that used to live at the bottom of the garden ended up called Chicken Leg.”
Imrul has to hold back a snort of laughter at that. They’re good kids, the Elrics, but at the same time, some of the stories that he’s heard from the Rockbells, and now from Al himself, make him wonder if they’re not both walking disaster areas. Then again, from what he’s heard from Fahim about their apparently immortal father, maybe it’s just biological.
Behind them, the door opens and Winry comes out with Fahim, who gives a sigh that Imrul has heard so many times before.
“Why am I not surprised that you’ve found a cat? And not only that, a cat with several cats-to-be? I think you just attract them somehow.”
“Al’s not much better,” Winry points out. “He’s a cat magnet. With the two of them together, I’m amazed we don’t have the entire neighbourhood’s feline population in here. Sometimes I think you just line your pockets with catnip or something.”
“Ironically catnip is one herb that Mom doesn’t grow in the garden. That’s probably for the best. They’d all be high all the time. We’d find them passed out under the tomato plants. Come on, Esther. Let’s get you out of here before you decide to find Den and go nuts.”
Al picks up Esther, who gives a mew of protest at being removed from her new friend, and Imrul looks down at his automail hand with a new confidence.
1 note
·
View note
Text
( rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the kind of music they listen to! put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people! no skipping! ) / tagged by @yellowcrumpet ╭( ・ㅂ・)و )))
Thanks for the tag! I LOVE these things-- I don’t rlly have a playlist either though, just a mess of music files on a device I haven’t updated so I’ll be checking my YouTube history too lol. There’s a uhhh.... pattern to be found, mainly relating to Code Vein or other OCs.... which isn’t surprising ._. ;; I made it a separate post bc I knew this was going to get long and rambly with lyric snippets and crying about fictional characters, sorry :D
1. Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor don’t go / you’re half of me now / but i’m hardly stood proud / i said it, almost oh i’ve been low / but damn it i bet it don’t show / it was heaven a moment ago oh i can’t seem to let myself leave you / but i can’t breathe anymore This one gives me Loubeth vibes ok, partially bad end route ;-; While Elizabeth is a very strong person, her friends are the most prominent reason she tries to do anything at all & isn’t living day-to-day in a monotonous grind to survive without a solid purpose other than ‘help random ppl bc it’s the right thing to do’. If she loses them, it’d ruin her & hammers into her head how everything she’s ever done has been a failure. She suffered a major betrayal by her boss before the Collapse, she was unable to fully participate in proj. queen despite her incredible test results, she failed to defeat Cruz and take her blood during Operation Queenslayer, and if she fails to protect the people she’s finally found meaning with? She’d break down completely & destroy herself to save them. She’s always had some level of abandonment issues, and without her family around it’s so much worse, even if it isn’t the most obvious because she’s generally seen as very well put together-- I really can’t express how much it would hurt her to lose Louis, Yakumo, and the others. She’s just not one to show just how bad it can truly get for her mentally and emotionally-- she’s resilient as hell, she’s been through hell repeatedly and survived it all, so it’s easy for others to assume she’s fine all things considered. It makes her feel weak and ashamed of herself if she shows any level of vulnerability, so she doesn’t; she swallows it down and is afraid of disappointing those who look up to her as a fighter and friend-- of course, no one at Home Base would blame her for being vulnerable, they all have their moments, Bethy just sets herself to such a high standard it’s difficult for her to talk about her own suffering in spite of how well-versed she is in getting her thoughts and feelings across otherwise. Louis is the one most keen to how deeply she’s hurting, but he doesn’t understand just how deeply until she finally does fall apart. The final swell of the song and its desperate lyrics really relays the pain they both feel-- Louis too would not fare well if something happened to Elizabeth, because he blames himself she was even involved in Operation Queenslayer for a long time, I honestly did so bad in explaining coherently, this song just has so much emotion and hurt behind it adklfjdfdff </3
2. Looking Out For You - Joy Again this is a love song for a girl who will never know it’s about her she's beaming that smile / all the while i’m all tripped up on my own throat i guess there is no hope This song reminds me of Elizabeth & my friend’s character Takashi Fujioka, who gets-- vERY...FRIENDZONED, for lack of a better word, by Elizabeth in his story, it’s really summed up best as tragic (;﹏;) Before the Collapse they were hitting it off, then the Collapse happened, they were separated, he lost his sisters, Mido happened, he was experimented on + became a revenant, etc, etc; years have passed since then & she’s gotten her life together as much as one can in a world like Vein, but for Takashi it’s like no time has passed at all. Elizabeth is subtly older in appearance, she’s been working w Lou & Co. for a long time; Loubeth blatantly have a connection, & rather than bringing up his feelings + making it awkward bc he values their friendships, he just kinda. chokes on them & does his best to help out the team. It doesn’t help he can’t even be jealous bc Louis is a really solid friend to him too, IT’S JUST A MESS OF A SITUATION & the death of what could have been if things were different.
3. Closer - Teagan And Sara ( no lengthy explanation for this one thank goodness, I’ve just been watching BoJack Horseman again and I really like some of the songs they add in, I like listening to this one on loop when mindlessly coloring something )
4. Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo all I did was try my best / this the kind of thanks I get? they say these are the golden years / but I wish I could disappear ego crush is so severe / god, it's brutal out here I have it on a playlist for Elizabeth somewhere, not all of it applies to her but it reflects some of her struggles she has both before & after the collapse. She’s-- always kind of been a mess while under immense pressure + has serious self image issues, this song hits that side of her well. She’s been held to humanly impossible standards by both herself and her family bc frankly? She can reach them, she’s NOT exactly human. She was born into her position as a hunter & intends to keep it for as long as she lives (like revenants, her kind is very much ‘either gets killed or lives 5ever), even if some days she really feels how heavy the burden can be. She didn’t have a normal childhood and she’s fine with it for the most part, but it alienates her from most of her peers-- she never got to date anyone, never had a close group of friends, never went to parties that weren’t formals, etc., while she feels a little childish about it, she does envy ‘normal’ and understands the pressure she’s lived under her entire life has caused damage-- she has been exploited for her abilities, there’s just not much she can do about it but to keep going, rlly.
5. Freaks - Surf Curse don't kill me / just help me run away from everyone i need a place to stay / where i can cover up my face don't cry / i am just a freak / i am just a freak UhhhHHH this song really makes me think of Oliver Collins :D;; thank TikTok for showing it to me. It makes me think of how scared he was, of both the world and the revenants who captured him. The song’s use of the word ‘parasites’ really makes me think of Revenants and the BOR parasites XD I’m hoping when I poke my video editor again, I can record some Oliver footage to make a short video to this song. Oliver deserves so much better, I wish you could save him, but that’s what AUs are for, hahah.... The second half of the lyrics make me think of the AU I have where he lives and has to grapple with the guilt of surviving and the things he did to other revenants to get by too.
6. All Eyes On Me - Bo Burnham you say the ocean’s rising / like i give a shit you say the whole world’s ending / honey it already did you’re not gonna slow it / heaven knows you tried got it? good / now get inside I haven’t seen the Netflix special yet but I’ve had this song on repeat since my move started. The lyrics hit too hard & resonate with my existential dread, covid exhaustion, and extreme burnout in my 20s, but bc I have Damage I can also relate it to CV ._. ‘you’re not gonna slow it, heaven knows you tried. got it? good now get inside’ makes me think of--;; the bad end route again, and Elizabeth’s desperation to keep her found family together. It’s not like her to completely stop caring about an issue, but in the moment she realizes what’s being taken from her? She doesn’t want to save all of revenant-kind if it means she’s going to wind up alone all over again, her world is effectively over if she’s forced to be alone again. The MC frenzying means the only immediately identifiable hope she had of saving everyone else is gone, so why not just go home? If they’re all doomed, she wants to at least be together for a little while longer, it’s fine if they use her blood to survive & everyone else in the mist is out of luck, it’s soul-crushing bc I’ve never had her in a situation where she’s been this reckless, despondent/hopeless, and thinking irrationally where it’d impact more than herself-- especially when she’s normally goal-oriented, organized, meticulous, so on so forth: she’s not one to act without thinking something through first, but that last breath of light just got sucker-punched out of her. All she wants is home, comfort, and family, and ultimately in the bad end route she does manage to preserve their lives, maintain the mist, and supply blood beads, but her own condition leaves her on the throne-- it’s a mix of the bad, neutral, and true ending rlly ldkfjdf BUT YEAH enough rambling on that :D;; This song’s really good and touches a lot of different thoughts and ideas both in real life and my ocs, kind of embarrassing--;; thank u bo burnham for ruining me with this beautiful song
7. Yellow - Coldplay look at the stars / look how they shine for you / and everything you do your skin / oh yeah, your skin and bones / turn in to something beautiful do you know / for you I'd bleed myself dry Does this song make me think about JackEva? Yes. Yes it does. Star / night sky symbolism? Bam. Sappy lyrics about love and finding the person you’re with absolutely mesmerizing and worth dying for? BAM. If JackEva were capable of using their own blood to save each other, I can see it-- hJNGn they just care about each other so much, Jack cries for her even though they both knew that eventually one of them would succumb to their duty, and if the roles were reversed I can see Eva doing the same, I adore them beyond human language. On my CV RP blog, my Jack’s not shippable bc-- Eva, my friend even have them looking after his nephew (an oc--) at one point. I should seriously drop some headcanons down eventually....
8. Louder Than Thunder - The Devil Wears Prada are we meant to be empty-handed? / i know i could, i could be better i don't think i deserve it / selflessness, find your way into my heart all stars could be brighter / all hearts could be warmer
LMFAO throwback to my middle school playlist, I’m old-- I’ve applied this song to a lot of things back in the day, but I really connect it to Loubeth now, especially Louis. Lou & Bethy are both functional idiots who are too hard on themselves & have trouble recognizing their worth beyond what they can do for others. They’re trying to be better-- to make up for what they perceived wrongs they’ve done, but it’s hard, they don’t believe they’re worthy of the love and support the other gives, but they still yearn for that sense of security. After Louis’ memories are returned, he finally understands the guilt he’s felt since he became a revenant and it really skews his self-perception; he blames himself for so many things & Elizabeth, who has always been able to kill when necessary, sets it straight-- “It’s not your fault”, and it takes Louis some time to properly absorb that message. He thinks she’s just trying to comfort him, which she is tbh, but she’s not wrong: “It’s not your fault you couldn’t kill someone. It was never your job to kill anyone.” It’s up to people like her to do those sort of things-- Elizabeth may not have been present when Cruz frenzied, but if she had been? It would have been over before it started, that’s something she has regrets over, even if nothing could have been done since she was already on the field. Actually, she’s actually really quite angry that security failed to monitor Cruz properly and has a few select words for the ones there who could have actually done something before it got out of hand-- civilians and doctors are exempt from her shtlist bc they’re not meant to be killers (so don’t worry Artorias, she’s not ready to bite your head off!), but they had to have some kinda security detail rite o-q??? They’re probably hiding from her wrath-- BUT ANYWAY, she insists she’ll never blame Louis for not being able to do something as serious as killing another person. He was a normal human being who cared about his friend, not a failure, and he couldn’t have been expected to do something that shouldn’t have fallen on his shoulders in the first place. As many times as it takes, she’ll reaffirm that it wasn’t his fault, she’s not angry, he’s always done his best and her opinion of him hasn’t changed. He’s a good person and she loves him through all the hurt, though she doesn’t drop the word ‘love’ for a long time. It just-- takes Louis a while to accept she views him as someone worthy of the love and respect she has for him. It’s kind of ironic she’s so adamant on Louis not blaming himself considering she’s the one privately blaming herself for-- wow there’s too much to unpack, she feels guilty she was even born?? im so broken over these two. I love them and yet they SUFFER...
9. What I’ve Done - Linkin Park i'll face myself / to cross out what i’ve become erase myself / and let go of what i’ve done today this ends / i'm forgiving what i’ve done
I have Louis Amamiya brainrot and I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thinks that this song fits him super well & it needs to become an AMV dsjfkldsfd. I’m a near life-long Linkin Park fan and this fits with Lou so well thematically. As much as I’ve gone on about Louis’ guilt, he does steel himself to keep going forward in spite of it and make things right, for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t really his fault, but at the end of the day his inability to kill Cruz in that moment left a disaster in its wake that got a countless number of people killed-- the MC included with Karen and Aurora. He doesn’t want to run away from the truth, doesn’t want to make excuses, he wants to take responsibility for it and he’ll work himself to death if it means things will be better-- it’s both admirable he’s got a strong resolve and VERY concerning with how willing he is to die for the cause, please don’t overdo it, Lou, you’ll break mine and Bethy’s hearts ._.;; It won’t always be easy, there are moments the grief gnaws at him, but in the end he does overcome it (and uh. as in the bad ending, we know he can actually do it this time). I know we can’t see everything, but I would have loved deeper character interactions, especially with Louis with an emphasis on grieving + forgiving himself properly-- but this song really is nice with the whole ‘I’m going to face my mistakes head on, forgive myself, and keep moving forward’. It’s what Louis deserves: self forgiveness and a damn break ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚
10. Call of Silence - Hiroyuki Sawano you will know you're reborn tonight / must be rough but i’ll stay by your side even if my body's bleached to the bones / i don't want go through that ever again so cry no more / oh my beloved ngl idk if those are the correct lyrics, buuuuuuut....... im a weenie and am internally weeping abt loubeth after midnight, what else is new lmfao- i’ll at least try to be brief :D I also used to really like Attack on Titan when I was in high school, I dropped the anime years ago because I was waiting for s2 and never got back to it once it started airing again, I thought I’d finish it once the anime was complete since I eventually caught up with the manga, such a good series BUT ANYWAY-- I think it’s a really pretty song and Loubeth fit with the tender lyrics. IT’S LATE, idk what to say about them other than what I’ve said already dsklfjdslf im sorry I really ramble a LOT and I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had the chance to >w>;;
1 note
·
View note
Text
Heart of Audrilluria- Chapter XVII; Bitter Reality
Modern Fairytale AU
Prince King!Tom Hiddleston x Thief! Reader
The jet’s door opened welcoming both sisters back to the solemn reality they’d always known. Stepping out, they made their way to the car waiting for them on the other side of the landing platform of the private airport. As they walked side-by-side with their luggage in their hands, Y/N looked over to Amelie. “So we’re back,” she uttered weakly. Amelie gave her a cold glare, briefly before turning back to the car in front of them. “I refuse to speak to you until our little problem is fixed,” Amelie replied bitterly. They continued to walk in silence, nearing their ride with every step. As soon as they reached the car, Y/N opened the door to the back seat, allowing Amelie to enter first. The driver took their luggage and put it in the trunk. Once inside, the car started and their drive began. It wasn’t the limo they were used to, but they had to accept the fact that they were no longer in Audrilluria. After yesterday, it became a distant memory.
They rode in silence for about five minutes before Y/N turned to Amelie, “We have to talk about this eventually.” Amelie sighed, looking away from the window and glaring at Y/N. “What do you want to talk about? The fact that you decided to steal the replica? Or that you broke the necklace and left the jewel? Or maybe you want to talk about the fact that we now have to pay someone $10,000 to replace something you had in your grasp but decided to leave behind because you couldn’t do that to the love of your life. Which do you want to talk about, dearest sister?” she spat.
“Ok look,” Y/N started, “it wasn’t my fault the replica broke as I was putting it in the carrier bag. I’m not responsible for making a weak bracket that caused the gem to fall out.” Amelie’s eyes widened in a hateful surprise. “And what about the rest?” she almost yelled, “What about you getting attached? Was that not your fault too?”
“Yes!” Y/N cried out, loud enough to make the driver flinch slightly. “That is my fault. Because for a moment, a small blissful moment, I thought I could be more than that poor orphan that was forced to steal from people for a slice of bread everyday. For once, I thought that I could just be normal and experience normal things.”
Amelie sighed heavily. She shook her head and turned to look at the window. “I don't want to do this now. Let’s just get to Andrew’s and get this over with.” Y/N let her head drop, giving up. They continued their ride in complete silence, each sister having their own drowning thoughts that made the silence tense.
Their ten minute drive finally came to an end, reaching their handler’s place. The car came to a complete stop and both sisters got out. “We’ll be in there for a few minutes. Keep the engine running,” Y/N said to the driver before making her way to the door, Amelie following close behind. Opening the door and stepping in, Y/N made her way to the furthest display case in the jewelry store. Amelie rang the bell and they waited for Andrew.
“Sorry, we’re closed today due to a family emergency,” Andrew hollered from the backroom on the other side of the display case. “This is a family emergency,” Y/N replied. They heard shuffling before Andrew appeared in the doorway of the backroom. “Well, well, well,” he began, “If it isn’t the infamous L/N sisters. Where’s the heart?” “It’s nice to see you too,” Amelie spoke in a sarcastic tone, “And the heart is in Audrilluria. What we have is the incomplete replica.”
Y/N put the bag she’d been carrying on the display case. She opened it, revealing the well kept replica that was missing the blue heart. Even without its center jewel, it was beautiful. Andrew marveled in its beauty before picking it up to examine the missing piece. He looked at every detail carefully, taking in the craftsmanship and already forming ideas in his head. After a moment, he spoke “The jewels are sapphire replicas and the chain is steel painted to look like gold. The brackets are a bit weak, which is what caused one to break so easily. All in all, the necklace was made to be displayed, not worn. I can fix this within 24 hours and it will look good as new.”
“I knew you could get this done,” Y/N praised, “We’ll see you tomorrow with the $10,000 ready.” Both sisters turned to leave, walking the same path they took to meet with Andrew. Exiting the shop, they made their way back to the car and got in. "I really hope this works," Amelie commented as they drove off, "Otherwise Vie will kill us both."
“They’re here!”
Y/N and Amelie got out of the car only to be attacked by a swarm of seven children hugging their legs, pulling their arms, and jumping up and down excited for their return. “Hey guys!” Amelie smiled as the driver took their luggage out of the trunk. “We missed you so much!” a brown haired, green eyed boy exclaimed. All of the children that surrounded them were between the ages of five and twelve. They were the kids that weren’t lucky enough to end up in an actual orphanage. Y/N and Amelie were the oldest. This was home.
“Mother Vie is waiting for you,” said a small voice coming from six year-old Michael. “We’ll go in a moment, Mikey,” Y/N said softly, internally dreading the moment they have to face that wretched witch. Their luggage was handed to them, but quickly taken away by the older children as they insisted they could take it. Hesitantly, they made their way through the dry leaves covering the floor and approached the old house that seemed to be falling apart a little more each day. One of the columns holding up the roof of the porch was almost completely leaning out of place. The majority of the windows were either broken or replaced with a wooden plank. It looked as if no one was living there. No one should be living there. Especially not children.
They made their way up to the stair-less porch and climbed up an old, wooden box they’d use to get inside. The box itself was almost as worn as the house. They walked up to the door and Amelie knocked as hard as she could. Y/N stood next to her, waiting for Mother Vie to open the door for them. She looked up at the hole in the ceiling. She could see what was once the house’s balcony. The Balcony. She shook her head, not wanting to return to her grieving state.
The door swung open, revealing an older woman dressed in clothes that looked maybe a few days old. “My girls!” She exclaimed, opening her arms seemingly to hug them. “Mother Vie,” they both responded bitterly. Vie stepped aside to let them in, still keeping that bright smile that had mysteriously appeared on her face when she saw them. They walked through the old, worn out house with broken furniture that barely stood and uncleaned floors and walls.
Hell. They’d returned to hell.
“How was Audrilluria?” she asked, stopping in front of a seemingly newly purchased recliner and sitting down. “It was an experience,” Amelie said in the same tone as before. Vie shook her head, still keeping the unsettling smile from earlier, “I’m sure the entire time you were gone, you were missing home!” Home. Is that what this is?
The sisters just smiled forcibly. They didn’t want to be here again. Especially not with her. She was the one that picked them up from off the streets and took every opportunity she had to remind them about it. She was the one that forced them to become thieves. She was the reason behind years of hell and torture.
“May we get to our room?” Y/N asked after a moment, “It was a long flight and we’re both exhausted.” Vie laughed, “Of course! We’ll talk about the pay at dinner. Tonight, everyone eats. Only to celebrate your success!” Both sisters gave her a false grateful smile before almost rushing to their room. The children were already waiting for them inside with their luggage.
The room was small enough to be considered a small closet. For furniture, there were only two twin beds, two dressers, and a single broken mirror. Nothing compared to their suite in Audrilluria.
“Tell us about the fairytale kingdom!” Mikey exclaimed, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. The other children began to chant in agreement. “Ok, ok,” Amelie gave in, making them quiet down. “I won’t tell you all the adult stuff,” she began, giving a smirk in Y/N’s direction, “But I will tell you that Y/N fell in love with her charming prince.” The younger children began to squeal while the older children looked in a mix of disgust and awe. Y/N turned to give Amelie a look of sadness mixed with surprise. “Can you tell us about it?” Mikey asked eagerly. “No,” Y/N dismissed softly, “I can’t talk about that.” Amelie smiled to her, “Oh come on Y/N. Please!” The children followed her lead and soon, she gave in.
“Ok, fine,” she said, sitting on the bed next to her suitcase. “His name is Thomas. He’s the nicest, most lovable person I’d ever met,” Y/N recounted, “He is well spoken and sweet and I fell for him so fast.” The children listened eagerly from their places on the floor. “How well spoken is he?” one of the older children, Daya, asked eagerly. “Well,” Y/N thought for a moment, “I have a note he sent me in my bag.” Suddenly, they began to chant for her to read the note. Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching into her bag and taking out the note. She began to read; “Dearest Y/N, I hope you can accompany me to the gardens this afternoon to continue to establish our friendship. I didn’t see much of you yesterday and would like to make it up today. Please meet me in the Gardens. In the same place I showed you the first time.”
The room resonated with “aw’s” coming from everyone, even Amelie. “How did you meet him?” ten year old Allie asked. “Well,” Y/N began, a tear slowly forming in her eye as she remembered everything that happened. “When we arrived at the castle, he and his family were waiting for us.”---
~~~~~~~~~~
“Thomas, you can’t keep avoiding us,” Charles called into the office where Thomas stood leaning over a desk, looking at a stack of papers with the information of all the employees that worked in the castle. “I’m not avoiding anyone,” he responded, not sparing him a single glance, “I’m doing my job as king.” Charles sighed, stepping further into the office, “Well you could at least notify me of your game plan.” Thomas fixed his posture, standing up straight and motioning to the papers. “These are the resumes of all the employees that work or have worked in the castle. I’m going through them to look for anything that seems out of place. I know for a fact she didn’t work alone. If my hunch is right, someone in this stack of resumes knows who she really is and where to find her,” he explained.
“I thought you said you never wanted to see her again,” Charles questioned, eyeing the papers. “I don’t,” Thomas replied simply, “I’m merely doing my job as king. She stole from Audrilluria and I intend to lock her up for it. My past personal attachment has nothing to do with this. She is a criminal and she must pay for her crimes against my kingdom.” Charles looked at him in surprise. He’d thought for sure Thomas would still be broken about all this. How much does someone’s heart have to break in order for them to put aside their feelings and focus on making them pay? With the way Thomas was acting, he was sure he’d find out soon enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I don’t have much to say about this one other than I really hope you enjoyed it!! I promise all will be resolved soon!! Anyway, what did you think? Feel free to let me know as feedback is always accepted and encouraged. Thank you guys so much for all the support, comments, and messages!! I love you all and I can’t wait to get to the Verdict!! See you tomorrow for the Chapter 18 preview!!! Lots of love and please stay safe!!!
Taglist is OPEN:
@ladyblablabla, @tvdplusriverdale, @pipolaki, @myraiswack, @shockwavee, @harringtonb-blog, @cynic-spirit, @little-moonbeam-666, @ochizokulevy, @swifitiedaylight, @blue-honey-bee-from-france @scorpionchild81, @imnotrevealingmyname @whathefuckrichard69 @frostedgiant @falling4uke @accio-boys
#tom hiddelston x reader#tom hiddelson#tom hiddelston imagine#tom hiddleston#thomas hiddleston#tom hiddles#thomas william hiddleston#loki fandom#loki fanfic#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x you#tom hiddleston x reader#loki layfeyson x reader#loki imagine#loki#loki x y/n#tom hiddleston x original female character#tom hiddleston x y/n
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Taste of Metal - Chapter 2: Safe Inside Familiar Walls AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/63644236
Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him? But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the "Metalhead Gordon AU"
- - -
Gordon couldn’t sleep, as much as his body wanted him to.
The pain was one thing, but the number of unanswered questions was the overwhelming main reason he had curled up in a blanket, staring at nothing with wide eyes like a startled cat.
Tommy had not moved much after he had teleported them both into Gordon’s apartment, aside from grabbing a water bottle and some painkillers from the kitchen for the shaken scientist.
“D-Do we just wait? I don’t… I don’t know what to do a-about any of this. What even is “this”? What happened? H-How are you even REAL?”, Gordon stammered.
Tommy gave him an apologetic smile from his spot at the end of the bed.
“I just am, Mr Freeman. We all were- uhm- we all are real! I… wanted to tell you during everything. We all did! B-But the code didn’t let us.”
“But you can talk about it now! What changed it?”
Tommy appeared a chunk more nervous at this question but continued anyway-
“You.”
“M-Me??”, Gordon stuttered as he found himself in the focus of Tommy’s vibrant glowing eyes once again.
“We didn’t think someone could alter the code of the simulation like you did, Mr. Freeman... Y-You freed us.”, Tommy said with a warm smile- “I… all of us will do our best to explain everything to you once everyone is here.”
“In my apartment?” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We thought bringing you here would be the safest option for you. It’s a place you know and would feel comfortable in. I-In general but also to talk about everything that happened?”
Gordon nodded slowly.
“I… yeah, I guess that makes sense. And when you say “we”... are you sure everyone will make it out alive without our help?”
“Absolutely!”, Tommy's laugh lines deepened at the edge of his eyes- “I think they are just wrecking the place now for fun now! :)”
That left Gordon silent for a few seconds.
“Oh. W-Well… I…”, Gordon let out a short shaky laugh- “Sorry that I keep you from joining the fun... and that I can’t add support myself-”
Suddenly, Gordon found himself being held once more. Tommy hugged him gently, his chin resting on Gordon’s head.
“A-All of us want you to be safe first, Mr… … Gordon. Fun mayhem comes second! And… a-and I am rather here with you than g-getting overwhelmed with the noise… as fun as destroying a facility might be.”
Gordon chuckled, brushing away a tear he hadn’t noticed falling. “Oh… uhm, thanks. For being here and… the foresight and all that. I don’t think we’ll be safe here in the long run though…”
The taller scientist tilted his head at that. “Why would you leave your home behind? You don’t have to when anyone who could tell on us has other problems to deal with. Much... much bigger problems at that!”
“What… okay, you actually need to sit my ass down and explain what the fuck is happening. Because... this vague shit? Not helping with my still high-stress levels, my man.”
“Resonance cascade………....2”, was suddenly muttered too closely into Gordon’s left ear, almost making the man yeet himself off the bed-
“OH SHI-”
Gordon stared, almost frozen in place.
“B-BENREY?”
The guard (or former guard now? had he even ever been one, to begin with?) was propping himself up on the bed beside Gordon, his lower body no-clipping through it. Seeing this happen in real life turned out to be way trippier than Gordon could have ever imagined.
Yet aside from that… and the very much scary boss encounter they had had with him in the simulation, Benrey looked relaxed. Comfortable even.
“Yo, Feetm-”
Instantly, Benrey got tackled by Gordon. Aggressively, yes - but not with ill intent. Benrey let out a startled wheeze but soon stared in shock as he was tightly hugged against Gordon’s chest.
“I still have no idea how any of this is happening, but I am so fucking happy to see your annoying ass alive, holy SHIT!”, Gordon laughed, ignoring the pain in his stump as good as he could.
Tommy let out a snort as a few pink sweet voice orbs escaped Benrey.
“uhhhhhhhhhhhh… You too, man? Wasn’t sure if you’d make it on your own… decided that Tommy was the best. He always is, but… ya know. For getting you out. Smarter than all of us combined, ya know?”
Tommy waved Benrey off with a blush but smiled.
“Y-Yeah but all that matters is that everyone’s okay. Do you think the rest of the team will be here soon? I w-want us to tell Gordon what happened. He… he really needs to know. There were enough secrets in Black Mesa. :(”
Gordon slowly let go of Benrey and sat up, returning to cradling his arm. He let out a sigh.
“You can say that again. I… I don’t know how much you all know about my side of things, but the bastards never really told me the most important details on any of the projects they assigned me to. I always had to peace everything together myself… which was frustrating as all hell...”
Now it was Benrey’s turn to let out a huff as he pulled himself on top of the bed and got comfortable laying down with his hands behind his head. Gordon decided to look past the fact that the man was still in full guard get-up, including his helmet and boots. At least he looked surprisingly clean...
“Yeah, that was, uh… their whole schtick. Always has been.”, Benrey said, scratching his cheek with- … that was an entire third arm he just grew and Gordon decided to look past that even quicker than the full guard-getup.
Suddenly the door to Gordon’s bedroom opened, making Gordon jump and hold tighter onto his aching arm- until he recognized the friendly face of Darnold…and the very large golden retriever that pushed the door further open to let herself in.
Gordon’s tense shoulders relaxed a bit at the sight of both of them.
“H-Hey...”, stuttered Darnold, giving Gordon a nervous smile and wave- “I just wanted to let you guys know that Sunkist and I checked the area and the apartment. Everything’s clean.”
Sunkist let out a soft woof at the sound of her name and then opted to rest her head on the bed near Gordon. Man, she really was huge. And very much 3D now. Another thing to add to Gordon’s “oh damn I’m starting to feel real overwhelmed by this entire situation”-list.
Tommy pet Sunkist’s head gently and nodded. “Thanks, Darnold! And that’s good! We are several miles away from the facility... but it’s better to be extra safe and see if anything is weird here!”
Darnold sat down on the floor beside Tommy.
“I’ll go check again in a few minutes… I don’t trust this supposed freedom just yet.”
Gordon opted to just nod at that. Speech was slowly failing him as his senses dulled slightly from exhaustion. He leaned back against his bed frame.
He was about to close his eyes as the sound of space being wrapped and time getting bent to his left pulled him right back into high alert-
Dr Coomer and Bubby stepped out through the portal that had formed way too close to the boxes with Gordon’s vinyl record collection, followed by G-Man who closed the portal with a wave of his hand.
“Hello, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer exclaimed, eyes bright and happy as he spotted the man currently half bundled up in his blanket- “Looks like you made it here with good Tommy’s help without... ehm… further harm.”
Bubby scanned Gordon’s form with his eyes and frowned.
“They actually did it, the bastards. Shouldn’t surprise me, but...”, he motioned at the air without aim, seemingly not being able to put his frustration into words.
Gordon just smiled softly at them, exhausted to all hell and back but so relieved and happy that the entire Science Team had made it.
He also noted that Dr Coomer’s limb enhancements were far more visible in real life than in the low-poly form he had been used to. It was interesting to see and the tech guy in him really wanted to ask the man about the intricacies of how they worked. But… later. That could wait.
Bubby on the other hand… there was something off about how Bubby looked. Gordon couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he supposed that Bubby’s lore of having been created artificially must have carried over into his real-life form as well.
But once again, this was something for Future Gordon to ponder about.
Present Gordon wanted to know about the general “ok, what the fuck just happened???”, before diving into information that he wasn’t even sure he had the right to know about.
He noticed G-Man giving his stump a glance as well before the suited man materialized a simple wooden chair for himself and sat down on it.
Bubby and Coomer opted to join Darnold and Tommy on the floor.
With everyone finally seated, G-Man opened his briefcase and pulled a very heavy-looking folder out of it. Its casing reminded Gordon of the pattern and colour of a missing texture error.
“I am… certain you have a lot of questions, Mr Freeman.”
Gordon closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes again, looking at everyone in the room over once more before nodding.
#hlvrai#metalhead gordon au#gordon freeman#hlvrai gordon#benrey#tommy coolatta#hlvrai darnold#hlvrai bubby#hlvrai coomer#hlvrai g-man#hlvrai sunkist#fanfic#fanfics#metalhead gordon#gordon is overwhelmed AS FUCK but he's trying his best
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snakes & Butterflies | Part IX
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (in the future)
Words: 3.3k
Warning: minor swearing,drug abuse, and angst
Note: I struggled a lot with this part, mostly because I lost inspiration and motivation with what direction I wanted to go with this. I want this story to be sort of long and I really want to go into depth with each character’s role and want to explore the universe that I am trying to create but I’m really scared of ya’ll losing interest. So I made a promise to myself that regardless of the feedback I get back, I will write the story that I want in my own time and to accept how long it will take. Once again thank you! and stay inside if you can! and stay safe. Wash your hands!!
Reminder: * conversations in Korean *
Seokjin
I really don’t want to be here, I must be getting too old for this
“Is it safe to say that this feels weird?” Namjoon says as he walks next to me. I nod in agreement. Jimin and the girl from the museum were ahead in line before us. She had brought a couple of friends with her that were trying to get acquainted with Taehyung and Jungkook. They were all really pretty but rave girls weren’t my thing, and I think Jungkook agreed with me there, from the uncomfortable look on his face.
“Hyung,” Hoseok says from behind us. “You mentioned that the professor is studying the origin of Neathandals?”
“Yea,” I said, already flinching from the sound of the bass of the techno music. I was gonna be deaf at the end of this. “That’s what Namjoon said.”
“It should be okay right?” Yoongi asked, his foot ticking nervously. “She knows him from school right?”
“She can take care of herself,” I sighed but I wasn’t really convinced myself. None of us were okay with it, especially Jimin, as much as he tried ignoring it. Before we left, Jimin was the last in the car, seemingly waiting for her to come out of her room.
“Hyung,” Jungkook whined as we finally made it past security. “Can we go?”
“We just got here Kookie,” Namjoon said. “What’s the matter?”
“Noona,” Jungkook sighed. “Jimin...something happened right?”
We all stood contemplating, it was obvious Jimin was pushing Y/N away, but it was in a cruel way. He was using this girl, whom he never even bothered to introduce to us. Jimin had always messed around, that wasn’t anything new, but this time was different.
“Maybe,” I said rubbing Jungkook’s head. “We shouldn’t force it, we should let them decide for themselves.”
“But,” Jungkook sighs dejectedly. “Noona has been alone this whole time…”
“Hyung’s right Kookie,” Namjoon interjects and there’s the tone of finality. Jungkook drops the subject for now. “Now can one of you tell me what a ABG is?”
And he’s supposed to be the smartest one? Lord help me.
“Hey, Boss” I said into my cellphone as I was struggling to lace my boots. “There should be a guest staying there under the name Minho Lee, do you mind transferring me to his room?”
“Y/N,” Patricia said, her tone sounding a bit too fake, even for her customer service voice. “He’s actually waiting here in the lobby, do you want to talk to him?”
“Are you okay?” I said, already locking the front door, and heading out to my car. “Just tell him, I’m on my way.”
“OK,” Patricia said, her tone wavering. “I’ll let him know.”
She hung up, leaving me in confusion. Dread filled me though when I saw all her text messages.
Patricia[7:50pm]: YOUNG LADY WHY IS THERE A MAN ASKING FOR YOU HERE? OMG HE’S HANDSOME AF!! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE INTO ASIANS! YOU BETTER CALL ME!!
“I should have told him to meet me at Denny’s or something.” I sighed and I hopped into my jeep. I start to head to the hotel, once I’m stopped at a red light, I check to see how swollen my eyes were, hoping it wasn’t too bad as it was twenty minutes ago. “That make up trick really helped, thanks Jennie.”
Once I parked on my usual spot, I honked once and from the bay windows, I see Minho, look up from his phone, and he grabs his satchel that looks similar to mine. My phone chimes and there’s another text message from Patricia, saying to have fun with a winky face. I cringe and roll my eyes, as Minho approaches the driver’s side of my car.
“Hey, you’re a bit late,” He says with a laugh, I smile sheepishly and gesture for him to get in. “Are we still having barbeque with your guests?”
“Oh,” I said feeling a bit awkward. “Actually we can if you still want to? They actually went out for tonight, they probably won’t be home for awhile..”
“I was thinking of actually going to this restaurant, I frequent there a lot.”
“Oh okay, that’s fine.” I said, reversing out. “Tell me where to go, Prof.”
Hoseok
“What are all these white people doing?” Yoongi asked loudly. He clutched my hand tightly, afraid to lose me in the crowd. I felt a familiar chill run up my arm, and my mark felt hot, which any other time, I would be okay with it, but it was quite hot in here, but I get it these people are weird.
“They are ‘head-banging’” Namjoon answered reading something on his phone. “Humans are so weird.”
“They called us savages..” Yoongi muttered. “On second thought, look at this asshole.”
We both look at Jimin, whispering into the girls ear. She nods in agreement and they walk away hand in hand, towards a more secluded place.
“I’m actually glad Y/N went on a date,” Taehyung says sipping on a beer.
“It’s not a date,” Jungkook says. “He’s a professor from her department. They’ll probably discussing her experience, she was suppose to go to Mexico to study the Mayan pyramids.”
“That’s besides the point though,” He continues in frustration. “I thought the whole point of this vacation was so that we can hang out, not help Jimin get his d-”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung growls in warning. “Watch your mouth that’s our hyung.”
Jungkook glares at Taehyung, who glares right back.
“Enough,” I say and they both looked at me with wide eyes. I was a bit surprised myself, but this whole ordeal was getting annoying. There was no room to dance, these weird ‘ABG’s kept flirting with me and Yoongi, in spite of the fact that we are holding hands. Jimin is disregarding how we feel about being here. “Listen you two, I don’t condone Jungkook’s attitude but I understand where he is coming from. Jimin is being inconsiderate of us, hyung can you-”
“Already on it,” Jin-hyung says heading towards the exit.
“And Namjoonie,” I say looking up at him. His eyes were wide and he stood up more straight. “Text Jimin that we’re leaving.”
“But-” Taehyung protests.
“You are welcome to stay if you want,” Yoongi says, already pulling me towards the exit.
Taehyung doesn’t say another word and follows us, and Jungkook stays behind with Namjoon who is on his phone once more.
Jimin
You don’t even know her name, what are you doing?
“Do you want to go somewhere more private?” I whisper into her ear. She nods and her eyes are unfocused, hazy. When did she get so intoxicated? Before I could protest, she was pulling me somewhere more private. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me in. “Wait..”
“What’s the matter?” She slurs as she places my hand on her exposed hip. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
What did I want again?
“Or do you need some encouragement?” She asks as she bends down and I flinch away from her. “Relax, babe.” She commences to pull out a packet from her shoe, a packet of pills. Ecstasy.
Jungkookie make sure you don’t take any pills from anyone okay?
Her voice resonates in my mind and I gulp. I mentally shake her voice out of my head. I’m with a different girl, I shouldn’t be thinking about her. But no wonder this girl was barely able to talk, she had pills and alcohol.
“I mean I can do that too if you want,” she continues and she loops her fingers in my belt loops and pulls me closer. I look down at her, and I can’t help but compare her to Y/N. She had short black hair, compared to Y/N’s long dark hair. She had small lips compared to Y/N’s plump lips. I gulp and sigh in frustration. Not sensing my mood, the girl commences to undo my belt.
“How about you f-”
My phone rings causing me to push her away. She falls back on the dirt and she gives me an incredulous look. My phone continues to ring and I stumble to redo my belt and answer the phone.
“Hello?” I answer without checking the caller id.
“Let’s go,” Namjoon said sternly. “Hoseok hyung wants to go home.”
And he hangs up. I look at the girl and she is now standing with her arms crossed. Shit.
“Was it that girl?” She sneers. Her tone disgusted. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I cock my head in confusion. “That girl from the museum. The one you were talking to before you started talking to me!”
“Y/N?” I say in confusion. “How do you-”
“That’s her name,” She interrupts me and she rolls her eyes. “I forgot what that freak’s name was. I haven’t seen her since graduation.”
Freak?
“What do you only mess with girls that don’t have Soulmates?” She continues and I feel my face pale. “What you didn’t know? That she doesn’t have a Mark?”
Doesn’t have a Mark?
I felt my mind go blank and then all of sudden I felt my heart ache and tears sting my eyes.
In my dreams, for some reason I have a Mar- a different Mark
“Just because she doesn’t have a Mark, she thinks she can mess around with other people’s Soul-”
“SHUT UP!” A voice booms, causing her to flinch, I whip around and Jungkook was standing around the corner, with Namjoon behind him. He had his fists clenched and I never seen so much anger and hatred in his eyes. “‘Mess with other people’s Soulmates?’”
“Says the one who was on her knees?” Jungkook continues in a calm demeanor. “Do you think he even remembers your name?”
*
She whips to look at me and I can’t even make eye contact. My mind is swirling around like crazy. She scoffs and walks away, bumping into my shoulder as she does. Once she is gone, I catch Jungkook’s hand and he tears his hand away from me.
“Jungkook,” I gasp and he regards me with disgust that it makes me flinch. “Is it true? About Y/N’s Mark?”
“You sure know how to pick them Hyung,” Jungkook says rolling his eyes and starting to walk away towards the side exit. Namjoon stayed standing, seemingly in shock himself. I run after him, catching him on the street.
“Jungkook,” I plead. “Plea-”
“Do you really think it’s my story to tell?” Jungkook says with frustration.
“But you obviously know more,” I say frustrated as well. I feel the tears spill over and Jungkook stares in shock, but soon his expression hardens.
“I promised Noona,” He says. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“But she told you!” I roar, making him flinch. “Why does she always tell you everything? Why is it only you she remembers!”
“Ask your precious grandfather!” Jungkook yells back. I stare at him in shock. Namjoon goes ahead and waves his hand. Jin pulls up along the curve. “I only found out because I caught her off guard. That’s how she’s been living her life: on guard. Thanks to people like your side piece.”
I felt a sense of shame and wave a fresh tears sting my eyes. Without another word, Jungkook hops into the car and leaves me standing on the sidewalk.
“Jimin,” Namjoon says cautiously. “I know-I mean I can’t imagine what’s going through your mind right now...but this isn’t the place or the time, there’s too many eyes and ears. Too many humans.”
I look up at him and his eyes were shining and he rubs my shoulder to comfort me. I hop into the back and he follows after me. Jin, although confused, drives toward the entrance where the others are waiting. Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung also hop on and Taehyung turns around. I crouch with my face in my hands as Namjoon rubs my back. He looks at Namjoon with confusion and eyes also glossy. Namjoon just shakes his head and gestures for him to turn around. We head back home in another quiet drive.
*
“Have you been here before?” Minho asks as we hop out of my Jeep. I look up at the fancy building and shake my head. “Good! My friend says we have the place to ourselves, so we should have some privacy.”
I felt my face turn red in spite of me knowing that this isn’t a date. He leads me into the restaurant and he wasn’t lying, it was empty and the server was a handsome man that led us to a table in the center. This place seems a little to fancy for just a discussion.
Once we were situated, he placed menus in front of us and I realized that the prices were not displayed and I felt my face go pale. How much do I have in my savings?
“Don’t worry about prices,” Minho laughed at my expression. “My friend is doing me a favor.”
“It must be really expensive though,” I sheepishly said.
“It is,” the server said. “But I’m willing to make an exception for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
“Don’t flirt with her Ben,” Minho said rolling his eyes.
“I’m the owner,” Ben replied once he saw the confusion in my eyes. “This is a first time, Minho has brought a date here.”
“It’s not a date.” Both me and Minho said at the same time. Then we both looked away blushing while Ben laughed at us.
“I’m just here to read some of his research,” I said fiddling with the cutlery. “Right, Professor Lee?”
“Of course, Miss L/N” Minho replied. “What do you want to drink?”
“Long Island Tea,” I replied reading something off the menu randomly. “I ate already, so I’ll just have the miso soup.”
“Right away, ma’am” Ben replied stifling a laugh. “How about you my good sir.”
“The usual,” Minho said with a slight annoyed face.
“Alright,” Ben cheered. “Coming right up!”
And he leaves us in awkward silence. I resist the urge to pull out my cellphone and scroll through instagram, like I usually do when I want to avoid conversations.
“So you seem sort of sad,” Minho says not meeting my eyes. “Is something the matter?”
“No,” I lied, forcing a smile on my face. “So do you mind starting your.. Lecture?”
“Yea,” He sighs. “I know we didn’t start off good, and you may feel slightly uncomfortable with me, but I do want to be your friend.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say smiling. It would be nice to have another friend. For some reason, the boys faces come into my head. I feel my smile drop and I look back down. “Do you have lots of friends?”
“I have a few,” Minho says. “Like Ben but I have mostly colleagues and coworkers.”
“Was it tough growing up?” I ask quietly, gesturing to his arm, where his Mark should have been.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I say hesitantly. “Did you get bullied a lot for not having a Mark?”
“No, I think we have a misunderstanding here.” Minho says in shock. “I recently lost my mark, like two years ago.”
“What?”
“Yea,” He said regarding me with unreadable eyes. “Forgive me for saying, but your father never mentioned when yours disappeared?”
“It didn’t disappear,” I answered confused. “I was born without one.”
“Strange,” He muttered. “Your father clearly stated that it disappeared…which I assumed you-”
“Had one at one point,” I finished for him. “No, I don’t remember ever having one.”
“Wow,” He says softly. “I’m sorry, growing must have been a bitch.”
“It was,” I said with a bit of bitterness. “I only had one friend, I still have only one friend.”
“Oh,” Minho says. “I thought Jimin mentioned you were childhood friends?”
“We aren’t exactly friends now,” I said feeling my heart ache.
“What about that tall guy?” Minho asked. “You guys seemed friendly?”
“Did we?” I asked cocking my head. “I’m actually thinking of putting some distance between us.”
“Why?” Minho asked incredulous. “I mean they are all adults, I’m sure that-”
“They are just here for the summer,” I say sadly. “I shouldn’t get attached. I have to protect myself.”
“I guess I could understand that much,” Minho sighs.
“Enough about me,” I say clasping my hands. “What type of Mark did you have?”
“I don’t think you want to know,” Minho says with a smile.
“Aww,” I said with a pout. “Please tell me, you’re the only I can ask without you asking me back.”
“Fine,” he mutters but still smiles. “It was a spider, a huntsman spider.”
I felt my spine stiffen. Another insect Mark? But how-
“I know,” Minho said sighing. “Spiders are creepy, but it was rare.”
“Here are you drinks and your soup, madam” Ben said setting my tea down. “I hate to ask this but you are over twenty one right?”
“What?” I ask confused, already clutching my drink.
“You do know that is a alcoholic beverage right?”
“Of course I do!” I laughed, feeling my face turn red. Shit. I took a sip and despite the warning I cringed away from the drink and both Ben and Minho start to laugh. Ben started reaching for my drink but I waved his hand away. “I can drink, it’s fine.”
And just to prove my point, I took to big gulps, almost finishing half of the drink.
“Are you -”
My phone starts to ring. I quickly apologize and get up to answer it outside.
“Noona,” Jungkook says his voice sounding tired. “I forgot my key, I’m so sorry.”
“I thought you guys were gonna be awhile..”
“Hobi-hyung got tired and said he missed you,” Jungkook says and I could hear Hoseok whining in the background. “So we came back.”
“Well,” I said sighing. “I’ll head there soon.”
“Okay,” Jungkook says. “Drive safe.”
I hang up and take a deep breath. I felt my head go a little dizzy. Oh no the alcohol.
“Everything okay?” Minho says startling me.
“I’m really sorry,” I said sheepishly.
“Do you need to go?” He asks and I nod. “Okay, I’ll drive you back.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s no problem.”
By the time we arrive to the cottage, the boys are all gathered on the porch. Hoseok runs up to my car with a big smile, but it disappears as soon as Minho gets off the car. Confused he runs to the other side, when I stumble out, the alcohol already making my legs feel like jelly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Yoongi asks as Hoseok supports most of my weight. I giggle in reply.
“She had a drink,” Minho answers for me holding my bag. “I can take her inside if that’s alright.”
“That’s okay,” Jin says grabbing my bag from Minho. “I can take care of her. Thanks for bringing her home.”
“Why are you drinking Noona,” Jungkook says as he hovers over me. “Especially with someone you hardly know?”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” Minho asks offended. “I’m her professor.”
“Exactly how it sounds,” Jungkook retorts. “Do professors usually drink with students?”
“Kookie!” I squeal. “Be nice! Why are you so mad?”
“It’s okay Y/N,” Minho replies giving me a warm smile. “I’ll text you later, make sure to read over the documents I gave you, there in your bag.”
“Thanks for bringing me home!” I giggle almost loosing balance. “I’ll make sure to do the reading!”
“Thank you for bringing her home safe,” Jimin says bowing deeply.
“It’s no problem,” Minho said a bit confused with Jimin’s demeanor, but bowing back regardless.
Once Jungkook put me on the couch, with the boys surrounding me. Jin muttering about making me hangover soup and Namjoon eyeing my tattoo. I unconsciously clutched the nearest pillow to my chest.
“Listen,” Yoongi says pacing back and forth. “I don’t mind you drinking recreationally but you have to do it a comfortable safe environment.”
“I’m sorry,” I pouted. “I thought I ordered tea and I got embarrassed so I drink most of it before they could take it away.”
“Whose ‘they’?” Taehyung asks walking in with Jimin behind him. I quickly look away and in comes Yuki, but..
“Why are there two Yuki’s?”
“She’s wasted.” Someone says before the room spins and turns dark.
Prev / Next
Masterlist
#jimin#jimin x reader#bts#soulmate au#soulmate!au#bts soulmate au#reader insert#my work#park jimin#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#Jung HoSeok#jeon jungguk#jhope#RM#min yoongi#bts angst#bts fluff#bts smut#kpop scenarios#kpop angst
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Doom (2005) fic roundup
I have now recommended this action/sci-fi/horror film based on a bestselling video game franchise to not one not two but three friends and I am happy to report they all concur, cinema Peaked in 2005, this is the best movie ever made. I watched it for the first time on @shipcestuous‘s recommendation: She has an extremely thorough breakdown here, and the pitch of her enthusiasm and the penetration of her analysis are without peer. Honestly I can’t think of a single reason not to watch this movie. Watch it for Rosamund Pike. Watch it for Karl Urban. Watch it to marvel at how much Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s acting chops have improved in the past 15 years. I have now seen this cinematic masterpiece three (3) times and I have zero (0) regrets. There is a sequel out, Doom: Annihilation (2019) but it’s not worth your time. Recently I went through the John Grimm/Samantha Grimm tag on ao3 and read every single fic, most of them for the second or third time, and I had a fucking blast. Friends, if any of you would like to experience this cinematic masterpiece for yourselves please please PLEASE message me and i’ll send you the link to dl it.
Doom (2005, dir. Andrzej Bartkowiak) is about a squad of Marines dispatched to contain a zombie outbreak in a secure scientific facility on Mars. There is no earthly reason for it to be set on Mars btw so I just chalk this decision up to video game continuity (same with the first-person-shooter sequence in the third act, which is five minutes long and it was the longest five minutes of my life). What’s impressive about this film is it somehow manages not to glorify (1) the military or (2) the scientific establishment. It’s a film stuffed to the gills with dudebros (outside of Rosamund Pike they’re all dudebros) yet to my eternal delight the humor actually landed, and I think the anarchist bent of the narrative is a big part of why (anarchist as in hella skeptical of authority). I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say this is another “we tried to cure cancer, accidentally unleashed the zombie apocalypse” setup. What’s surprising is that the protagonists are failed by science, as an institution. Our protagonists are one of the Marines (Karl Urban) and his estranged twin sister (Rosamund Pike), who is an archaeologist at the quarantined facility. The chemistry between these two is instantly and unmistakably through the fucking roof. The first time they appear in the same frame the other Marines mistake her for his ex, and it just gets better from there. Every time I watch it, the final frame of this film has me flailing and screeching. I still can’t believe we got a mainstream movie that was this good to us—horror movies in general have a track record of being good to us ‘cest shippers, but this is on another level.
cold hearts, thawing by merely (3k) They’re on the run and they get FAKE MARRIED!!! My god the amount of characterization smuggled into this—Jon and Sam getting hot for each other’s respective areas of competence is my entire kink. It’s not predominantly humorous in tone but the humor slaps in the best way. This is my forever favorite because it was written by one of the friends I got into the movie, so tailor-made for meeee ❤
Before, During, After by anr (1k) If you plotted the arc of their lives it would be a circle. Something about the spareness of the prose & the amount of stuff occurring in the interstices really stayed with me. I realized later it’s because I’d read another of the author’s fics from a diff fandom—it’s in the same mode, love to see it when authors just nail that one register.
DOOMED by chase_acow (1k) ”I thought you said your microbiology was rusty!" "You know I like it when you give me the bottom line.” Lmaooo. In case you haven’t noticed this fandom consists almost entirely of post-canon getting (back) together fic.
Normal by mneiai (<1k) Shut the front door did somebody say pre-canon getting-together fic??! Of course we all know 90% of the reason John enlisted was to flee his feelings for Sam right.
Glimpses of Clarity by izzyb (1.5k) John and Sam have rough sex and it’s completely consensual, but still scary. Part of working through trauma is recognizing that removing oneself from the traumatic situation does not, in itself, dispel the trauma. John has this inability to relinquish control, or abate his vigilance—except, apparently, when he’s fucking Sam hahaha.
Written in the Scars (of our hearts) by Mercury32 (21k, unfinished) I don’t read a lot of soulmark AUs so idk if this is common but it turns out John and Sam are not soulmates??? He gets his tattoo covered up because he’s only ever wanted Sam. They’re on the run because there’s a nationwide manhunt on and they take refuge in their grandpa’s cabin in the woods and along the way they meet Jon’s actual soulmate but he chooses Sam. He will always choose Sam until the day they put him in the ground. The conversation where they explained to their ex-CIA grandfather how they were going undercover as newlyweds is unadulterated gold.
No Heroics by amathela (3k) They go back to their jobs. They try to keep John’s newfound abilities under wraps so as not to turn him into a target or a military guinea pig. The stakes are high but it’s so …. whimsical? And domestic? It’s so good ahhhhh I love it when they’re trying to hide something other than the incest. “He never was able to win an argument against her.” “She rolls her eyes. ‘Not all of us are as pretty as you.’”
He a Tiger Will Be Who Drinks of Me by Brenda (3k) This story is packing some serious mythological and folkloric resonances. I was going to label it post-canon but half of it is pre-canon. When you frame their relationship as Ares and Aphrodite, Selene and Endymion, it does seem inevitable doesn’t it? All roads lead to you.
Need You Tonight by Mercury32 (2.5k) Hot damn it’s a pwp that’s kicked off by Sam having nightmares, and is all about how Sam trusts John implicitly. I still think about the way Rosamund Pike delivers that line in the movie, I know you, like, on a weekly basis. “You've ruined me for other men and I'll probably be walking uncomfortably tomorrow, but no, you didn't hurt me.”
And I Know What You’re Thinking by amathela (1k) Sam loses a lot of blood and John donates his. Course, now that John is a genetically modified superhuman this creates a psychic bond between them. Nobody does dialogue like amathela does, it’s like you can hear the words behind the words the characters are saying.
Homecoming by amathela (1k) Not as playful as her work usually is but still lovely and understated.
Ephelides by Rahmi (1k) Sam gives John anatomy lessons and it’s sexy as haaaaale. "Just because I'm about to give you a handjob doesn't mean I'm not still your sister.” "Your intelligence reflects on me. And you're my brother. Therefore, you're intelligent."
The Edge of DOOM by chase_acow (1.7k) I don’t know what’s going on but the apocalypse is here and Sam and John are shooting things.
If You Don’t Know Me by Now by Mercury32 (4k) Sam and John rifle through his unsent letters and it isn’t 100% full-blown epistolary but we still get a firm idea of what they were up to for those ten years apart. Ok but CONSIDER: what if they sent each other birthday postcards. Imagine!! This line in particular cracked me up: “Congratulations, you finally got your wish of being an only child.”
desert ghosts by river_soul (1k) They’re not “almost home” because they’re together therefore already home asdfkdjfkdjfd. Gorgeously wrought.
You Hit Me Once (kiss with a fist) by aohatsu (3k) I could read pre-canon John/Sam fics at a rate of 100k a day probs. God these kids are so lonely and nobody else understands. John getting into schoolyard brawls to defend Sam’s honor? Habitual bedsharing???!
I Wanna Kiss You (but i want it too much) by Mercury32 (<1k) It’s not a missing moment from canon, exactly—it’s a replay of the scene where the squad meets Sam, only the camera is firmly situated inside John’s head this time. “His fingers are twitching with the need to hold her, to see if the curve of her hip still fits into the palm of his hand, if her forehead still tucks perfectly into his neck. Like a jigsaw puzzle, she'd observed once, made to fit together.”
No Relation by aj2245 (<400 words) I mean the “surprise! they’re not related” reveal came outta nowhere but it was worth it just for this line: “Life on Mars is fragile. The three coffins waiting in the Ark anti-chamber speak to that. One little mistake and she's lost everything. She's lost John, it's just on time delay.”
In the Blood and the Bone by kyrene (10k) Pwp where John and Sam try to get pregnant. It wasn’t my thing but it’s the top-bookmarked fic in the tag, so other people must’ve liked it, and I always try to assume other people are acting rationally so there must be something this fic does well that I’m missing because I don’t care about that facet that much.
**This is not an exhaustive list of John/Sam fics, just a list of the ones I had anything coherent to say about. I do not think there is a single bad fic in the tag and they’re all bite-sized and bingeable!
#fyi this is a 24/7 rosamund pike + karl urban thirst blog#just in case that was unclear#doom 2005#john x samantha#fic roundup#fic rec
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eternal Soul - Serie
- Part 7 -
Chapter 7 - Reminiscence
Pairing: OT8 x The Witches
Words: Too much
Genre: Fantasy, Vampire AU, Fluff, Some subjective (smutt-ish), WARNING: Mention of suicide and death.
Song suggestion: Coffeehouse playlist - Spotify
Characters presentation -The Vampires
Characters presentation - The Witches
/ CHAPTER 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 /
Hongjoong was going through Yeosang drawings trying to understand the young man’s vision, why the Nightshades wanted that “Pierce” guy? He was lost in his thoughts, his gaze fixed on Pierce’s eyes, when San walked nonchalantly in the room, hands in his pockets.
The young man stopped in front of his leader, but the latter was still mesmerized by the drawing. To make himself known, San cleared his throat, “You wanted to see me, Sir?”
Startled, Hongjoong lifted his dark eyes on his brother and gave him a genuine smile,
“Yes! I want you and Seonghwa to patrol the city tonight.” he answered without real interest into him, his attention quickly went back to the drawn man.
“Sir!” San nodded in understanding of the order he just received. The young man could see something seemed to bother his leader, “Is everything ok Sir?”
“Hmm?” For a mere moment, Hongjoong’s attention went on San but then again, the drawing caught his interest back, “I’m concern about Yeosang’s vision. This Pierce guy…There’s something about him.”
San made his way next to his leader to look at the drawing himself. The man on the sketch was good looking, short gruffy hair, piercing eyes. There was something about his feature… San felt like he knew the man,
“Do you know him, Sir?”
“I…I’m not sure.”
A soft knock on the door got the two men out of their hypnosis. Their eyes darted up on the room’s door when it opened. Seonghwa made his way in the suite, his elegant silhouette slowly walking toward his two brothers. He gave a small smile to San and bow to his leader.
“Hongjoong, we have a problem.” His voice was soft but sounded concerned. San was always surprised when Seonghwa called their leader by his name, but the two vampires have known each other for so long, this small habit, even if Hongjoong was his master, made Seonghwa feel more like his equal.
Dropping the drawing on the table and turning his full attention toward his friend, Hongjoong motioned the tall vampire to come closer,
“What is it Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa’s blue eyes quickly looked at the drawings laying on the table before they went up to Hongjoong’s,
“The Nightshades are looking for something and I’m afraid it concerns the sisters.”
San’s attention automatically turned to his brother,
“Are you sure?” Hongjoong asked visibly worried.
“Yes! They are using Primal Banshee to track them down. A lockdown should be imposed on the manor”
“You are totally right Seonghwa, make sure everyone is aware of the lockdown and apply it right away.” Hongjoong replied.
It was the first time their leader was imposing a lockdown on the manor and it made San uncomfortable.
“Wait! Sir! Wasn’t there a sister outside the manner? Jo! She’s still in the city” San said hurriedly.
Seonghwa smirked while placing his hands behind his back, “I thought you’d have more faith in me Brother.” He said before throwing a wink at the young man. He then turned to Hongjoong,
“Do not worry, she’s in our walls! Safe and sound”
The Master smirked as well. Was his old friend starting to have feelings for the impertinent witch? It wasn’t really like him to go rogue and do something without orders. It wasn’t surprising though, Seonghwa always had something for bratty humans,
“Very well!” he replied nodding, “Now both of you go and make sure the lockdown is respected.”
As the two vampires were about to step out of the room, a very troubled Yeosang barged in, new drawings in hands. He frantically made his way to the table in front of Hongjoong and laid the sketches over the old ones.
“N..Nina Sir…” he started, wildly tapping on the drawing like a mad man while trying to catches his breath. “S-she’s the key. I saw it…I saw it!!!”
“What?” San got back inside the suite followed by Seonghwa. The blond vampire ran a trembling hand in his hair, Hongjoong invited him to sit and calm down,
“What do you mean she’s the key?”
Yeosang leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees, he tried to compose himself. The young man took a deep breath and sat up on the chair,
“I had a vision when she touched me…her blood; The nightshades need her blood to complete their rituals!” Yeosang let out. He leaned down again, covering his face in his hands, “She was dead…she will die” he looked up at San with distress in his eyes, “She can’t die!”
Silence fell in the room as the three vampires took the information in. Hongjoong put a hand on his Horacle’s shoulder,
“Alright, thank you Yeosang, you need to rest now. Don’t worry, we got it from here.” Yeosang lifted his worried gaze on him, before he got up and slowly made his way out the room, back to his own.
Then, Hongjoong turned to his soldier,
“San! Forget about patrolling the city. From now on, you’ll be on protection duty. I want you to protect Nina at all cost”
San’s heart skipped a beat, the idea of being with Nina excited him, but he didn’t let it show and simply nodded to his leader,
“On it, Sir!” he bowed and hastily left the group. Then, Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa,
“We’ll continue with the lockdown procedure, make sure everyone follows the rules. No one is allowed outside the manor’s borders”
The tall vampire nodded, “And what about you?”
Hongjoong followed Seonghwa outside, “I need to do some research at the library”
Seonghwa considered his leader a moment and nodded, wishing him the best in his research before he left for his task.
The order for the lockdown has been set by Seonghwa and Jongho as their leader asked, a week ago.
Jo, who hated the idea of being confined inside, went out in the garden to get some fresh air, and enjoy the beautiful weather. She was carelessly walking around the perimeters of the manor, sun shining on her, caressing her skin with it’s warm embrace. She continued wondering around the garden, humming a lullaby her mom used to sing to her, when she saw Wooyoung in front of her. The vampire was kneeling in front of an angel statue, his eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was praying.
Jo smiled, the idea of a vampire praying sounded romantic. She slowly made her way toward him, stopping a few centimeters from his still form. She took a moment to admire his perfect features. His jawline: that looked as sharp as a knife. His plump lips; of a perfect shade of pink, so kissable. His single mole under his eye: a distinctive beauty trait only him had. She was lost in her mind, mesmerized by his beauty when his sulky voice startled her,
“It’s rude to stare at people” he opened his green eyes and gave her a flirtatious smirk that made her inside twitch.
The witch chuckled softly, “I’m so sorry…” she sat next to him with legs crossed, “I didn’t mean to stare or be rude”
“It’s alright!” he shifted, changing position to sit as well. Jo looked at the Angel in front of them and read the name graved under the statue ‘Liana’.
“She was your lover?” she softly asked pointing at the name.
Wooyoung let out a small sigh and nodded, “Yeah, she is…was the love of my life.”
“Can I ask, what happened to her? Was she sick?” she asked looking into his bright green eyes. They were filled with an unbearable sadness.
“Hmm, she killed herself.” His words came out as a sob. A few tears started to roll on the vampire’s cheeks. “I wish I could be with her. I don’t want to live like this”
Jo felt heartbroken, the pain she was feeling from Wooyoung’s aura was heavy, like a permanent dark veil lingering over his head. The witch looked at the statue,
“I was very young when I learned about my coven’s massacre. Andri was still a baby and Nina wasn’t even born. I remember seeing my mom cry her heart out at night, but I was too young to even understand what was happening. Back then, I just knew I would not be able to see my grandma ever again. But the day my mom died…” She paused thinking about that painful event,
“I was about 12, Andri was 9 and Nina was only 5. My aunt offered us shelter but she wasn’t kid material. We were left alone most of the time, I had to take care of my sisters. A 12 years old, trying to raise her two baby sisters, what a mess” she scoffed at the memory,
“When I saw my mom’s body in her coffin. So…pale and cold and…dead. I could not take it. I wanted to die too. To be with her. I did not want to live a life without her, how could I? I was 12…and my two young sisters were relying on me? It was too much to bear,” she continued her eyes looking at nothing as she relived these moments,
“So, one night. Maybe a month, a month, and a half after we buried my mom’s body. I took a whole flask of Belladonna, the poison, and I drank it all. It worked, I fell on the floor, it was done. But it did not feel good. There were no angels, no peace, no light. There was only darkness and despair. A voice resonated in my head, telling me to hold on, that life would get easier, that my heart would heal, that I should keep on living. And I woke up, a puddle of Belladonna next to me. Somehow, my body rejected the poison and I puked it out. Was it my mom’s voice I heard? Was it just my imagination? My guilt? I do not know. That night, I cried so much. But I decided to stay alive. I tried my best to give all the love my sisters needed, the love they could not get from my mom. I guess I did good, I mean Andri is a freaking scientist, she is so smart. And Nina, she’s so strong and beautiful” Jo sobbed, “I’m so proud of them”
She turned to Wooyoung, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, “What I’m trying to say is…I know it is no easy to live without the person that you love. But death, death is nothingness. There is nothing there for you Woo. Liana took her own life, but I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to do the same. Live on and carry her love.”
The vampire looked at the witch with wide eyes. It was the first time someone called him ‘Woo’. Liana always was the only one to use this nickname. It echoed in his head and warmed his heart. And all the pain he had been feeling for the past year hit him all at once like a huge wave, the young man burst out crying and wailing. Jo pulled him into her embrace, comforting him the best as she could.
Wooyoung slowly soften in her arms, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. His tears continued to fall, wetting the witch’s shoulder,
“Thank you” his voice was only a whisper, but it sounded like a sighed of relief.
Jo did not move but she could feel it. The dark veil that was lingering over Wooyoung’s head was now dissipating. The young man’s heart would eventually heal, and she smiled at the thought.
“What are you doing? You cannot mix Blueleaf with Thallium.” Andri yelled at Yunho, taking the small container of molted metal from his hand and setting it back into the open flame. The blond vampire rolled his eyes exasperated and he turned toward the scientist,
“Sweety, I’ve been practicing this recipe for months. I’ve done so many researches, I think I know…”
“Alright…if you want to kill everyone!” Andri crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the stainless-steel table behind her. The vampire raised an eyebrow and smirked.
He turned back to his experiment. In a small petri dish was a liquid metal that looked a lot like Mercury, Yunho took some extract of the Blueleaf from a test tube and with a very steady hand, he squeezed a few drops of the Blueleaf extract on the liquid metal. As soon as the Blueleaf touched the Thallium, a thick black smoke rose from the petri-dish, blinding Yunho and getting in his lungs. The vampire got up, coughing, and trying to vent the small area with his hand, but in vain.
Andri giggled and pushed her partner away. She took the dish in her gloved hand and while carrying it far from her face, she dropped it in the chemical furnace, closed the door and destroyed the mixture safely. She walked back to Yunho.
The young man was pouting while wiping his blacken face with a cold rag, Andri stopped in front of him and smiled at his puppy eyes. She extended her arm to push a few wild strands of hair off his eyes. Her fingertips involuntarily brushed the tall scientist’s forehead and temples, making him shiver under her touch.
The sleeve of her lab coat moved up as Yunho leaned into her hand, enjoying the more intimate touch. Seeing something on her inner wrist, the vampire took her arm in his huge hands and lifted her lab coat to reveal the tattoo that was permanently painted on her skin.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo” he said tilting his head while admiring the body art. It represented two angel wings in purple and blue ink. Andri’s eyes dropped on the symbol,
“Oh! Yeah…It is in honor of my dad”
Yunho widen his eyes at the statement, “Your dad?!?”
The witch sat on one of the stools in front of her partner and smiled,
“Yes! He was a brilliant scientist.”
“Was?”
“Hum, yes. He-he died in a terrible fire that destroyed his lab.” Andri dropped her head, as sadness stroke at the thought of her late father, she looked at her tattoo, drawing the details with her fingertips: “I went to visit him in Indonesia when I was 13. I spent an amazing month with him. He taught me so much. His passion was bigger than life. He was such a good scientist! I miss him!” she paused, lifting her gaze on Yunho and she smiled,
“I remember that; He used to wear those round glasses on the tip of his nose with a chewed-up pencil placed on his left ear. He never used it, but it was always there. His lab coat was burnt, torn up and always dirty, it was his lucky lab coat” she chuckled at the memory,
“The thing I remember the most is his smell. A mix of fresh soap and strong musk. Sandal wood maybe?! His smile, always genuine, brighter than the sun. His big brown eyes looking down at me with all the love a father can have for his daughter while he told me how proud he was of me.” Small tears slowly rolled down Andri’s cheek, only to be met with Yunho’s fingers.
The tall man was gently wiping the tears off, studying Andri’s face, “What was his name?”
“Iman Zenguang” replied the young woman smiling.
Yunho stared at her like a deer still as stone on the road, then he quickly got up and walked to one of his bookshelves. He looked around for a while swiftly reading the titles of the different manuals, until he stopped in front of a thick tome with a red leather cover. His fingers caressed the soft material of the book and he walked back to the witch, smiling. He handed her the manual.
Andri took it in her hands and on the cover, she could read ‘The theories and realities of vampiric science by Doctor Iman Zenguang’. The young woman looked at Yunho, a surprised look on her face. She had no idea her father was writing a book.
“Look inside” Yunho said softly. Andri turned the cover to open the book and the inscription inside said: ‘ To my daughter, I want you to believe deep in your heart that you are capable of achieving anything you put your mind to. That you will never lose, you either win or learn, just go forth and aim for the skies. I can’t promise to be here for the rest of your life, but I can promise to love you for the rest of mine. Love Dad’
“Oh dad!” Andri let out, softly hugging the book in her arms. This was a beautiful gift, a piece of legacy from your dad. The witch put the book down on the table and hugged Yunho,
“Thank you so much Yunho!”
The vampire wrapped his long arms around her small figure and took her sent in. They exchanged a knowing gaze, before Yunho leaned in to lay a soft kiss on Andri’s pink lips.
The young woman’s heart skipped a beat as she kissed him back, deeper and hungrier. Soon the kisses turned into a small make-out session, only to be broken by Yunho’s alarm reminding them a petri-dish with new components was ready to be tested. The two scientists smiled at each other before they silently went back to work.
It was the third lap San had run around the manor; his eyes anxiously scanned the garden, but she was nowhere to be found. San called her name outside and inside the manor going through every rooms, over and over again.
“Where is she?” he asked to himself. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and put his hands on his hips while trying to catch his breath.
She couldn’t have just vanished like this! He thought. And then he saw her walking in the hallway as she turned the corner from the kitchen. She was nonchalantly coming toward him, an ice cream pop in her hand,
“Nina!” the vampire called. He furrowed his eyebrows and furiously walked to her. He grabbed her tightly by the shoulders, “Where the hell were you?” he asked visibly concerned.
Nina looked at him, surprised and confused, “I was hungry, I came inside for a snack. You want some?” she replied smiling, showing him the pop.
San blinked and swallowed hard as he looked at the pop going between her red lips, the warmth of her mouth melting the cream leaving a small layer of sugary liquid on her cute pout, before she took a tiny bite of the cold food.
The young man shook the naughty thoughts out of his mind and looked in her eyes to make sure she would understand all the importance of his words,
“Nina, y-you can’t do this to me. You can’t leave my side without telling me.”
The witch stopped eating her ice cream, when she understood he was profoundly serious about this whole protection thing,
“I’m sorry San.” She replied giving him an innocent look while pouting. The vampire chuckled lightly, she was so adorable and yet so desirable.
“It’s ok. Just be careful please. And if you need anything, just tell me. Ok?”
She nodded softly while taking another bite of the pop. A small drop of melted cream rolled from the corner of her mouth to her chin. San bite his bottom lip and used his thumb to wipe it off. He put his digit in his mouth tasting the sweet flavor of vanilla mixed with the strawberry flavor of Nina’s lip gloss.
Suddenly, San crashed his lips on hers and kissed her sensually. He swiftly moved and pinned her against the hallway’s wall, his hands roaming the curves of her body. He wanted her so badly. Nina pulled away from the kiss just enough to look in his eyes,
“You said I can ask you anything if I need to?” she started, panting from the make-out session. The vampire nodded before he buried his face into the crook of her neck, leaving small kisses and nibbles on her soft skin.
“Then, I want you San!” she breath out.
San stared at her, his eyes darkening to a gloomier shade of purple while he gave her one of his sexy smirks. He wrapped his fingers around her neck, applying just a little bit of pressure, enough for Nina to wet her underwear with her arousal,
“Oh Kitten! You already have me!”
Hongjoong had been doing research in the library for the past two months already. Going through old ledgers, manuscripts, stories, and legends. The table in front of him was filled with open books, his eyes were going fast on the pages absorbing as many information he was able to. Until he finally found what he was looking for, he read the pages repeatedly, to make sure he wasn’t mistaking,
“These sisters are definitely interesting” he said to himself, a cute smirk on his face, “This is going to be exciting”
-----------------------------------------------------------
Woah this one was a long one guys! I’m so sorry but I really wanted to write as much as possible. Hope you enjoyed anyway!!!
All right reserved to DeadlyGoddess! Please do not copy!
--------------------------------------------------------------
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#san#seongwha#yunho#hongjoong#wooyoung#yeosang#jongho#mingi#vampire#witch
4 notes
·
View notes