#overall im watching this without expectations of it following what im familiar with in the manga | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoshkeii · 4 years ago

Text

"𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎."

࿐ character(s): Daishou Suguru, Atsumu Miya, Sakusa Kiyoomi

࿐ genre: angst (to fluff)

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested: yes, as a continuation of "𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

⌦ male!reader (he/him)

⌦ mentions ; cheating (atsumu’s), angst to fluff (sakusa)

⌦ they all have different scenarios, so its best to check out the first post for a little more context.

A/N: never expected to make a part two, but i guess the feedback said otherwise. its been awhile since ive written anything, so i may be rusty, disregard mistakes too please-

𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴 ; this is queued. i am still on my hiatus.

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞:

→ ever since the argument, you had left. taking majority of what was yours and what you could in the quickest of matters. you and Daishou barely talked or interact within those days. often dead silence within the shared home... or rather what was shared.

→ it was quite suffocating as well, leaving each other after a long relationship you both committed to. but you had a gut feeling it would end unfortunately.

→ Daishou had seen you leave for the last time past the front door. only exchanging a blunt “bye.” before disappearing behind the solid door. he really hoped this was all lies and games, but it wasn’t. he knew this was real, he knew this will be his reality. without you. the fading steps signaled that you were not gonna look back.

→ since then, he hasn’t heard of you since. he hasn’t seen your name around social media and only the bittersweet memories of when his friends would bring you up came into mind.

→ but it was like, you erased him from your world. and yet Daishou still held tight of the cut thread that lead to you. the other end laying flat onto the floor as the other end you had, disappeared as a whole. a huge gap between you both.

→ him being in denial, he kept mainly to himself.

→ the old shared space felt empty. drastically different every time he would come home. he would hear your welcoming voice that made his whole body so warm and fuzzy, but now, the silence was painful and cold as he stepped inside his so called ‘home’. he didn’t know why...

→ but he really wanted you back. he wanted to see your face no matter when he came home. he missed your whole presence. he yearned for something that he could’ve kept if he would just shut up.

→ Daishou didn’t expect to see you here. at the same party he would be invited to, he watched you from the second floor that had the view of the merged rooms of the living room and kitchen. seeing you laugh and smile with two other friends who you stumbled upon, the sight made his heart sting.

→ a sharp stab straight through his chest, only thinking if he could be the reason for that smile. that laughter. oh he envied it.

→ he tried to avert his thoughts away before he heard some whistles and calling of names, to see your figure slip away with someone else from the crowd.

→ watching you both from his higher position, he noticed your hands intertwined with the other. his own hand slightly clenching the daring drink he held, the other grasping the rail tighter the longer he watched.

→ Daishou’s eyes soon looked up at your face. the expression you had made him feel conflicted.

→ the wide pure smile you had accompanied with the deep flush, made him feel that oh so familiar feeling. but knowing he wasn’t the cause of it pained him.

→ although, seeing you with someone deserving made him feel at ease. but the stabbing dagger in his heart laid there still, only reminding him that he could’ve been that better person.

𝙰𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚞:

→ after the confrontation, you and Atsumu had split ways of course. it was difficult to move on and realize the situation at hand, to the both of you.

→ seeing where your stuff would be gone in the shared space made it surprisingly empty and less... alive. the whole place felt dead and empty, like a home left abruptly without an obvious reason of why.

→ but Atsumu knew why, and it began to nag at him. it made him feel so guilty to do that to you. to him, you were so pure, kind, and oh so nice. he could go on about your looks too, he really could. but every thought of you made his mind so hazy and clouded with distraught.

→ why did he cheat? you were loyal to him- if only he could be too.

→ its been a couple years since then, it was tough for Atsumu. he had cut ties for who he was cheating with, regretting what he did and in hopes to regain you back before- didn’t obviously work. so now he stayed alone in the home that practically mocked him of his decision.

→ he was quite surprised Atsumu wasn’t blocked by you throughout social media etc. but he didn’t dare to strike a conversation and laid idle as he saw you occasionally appear on his feed.

→ seeing you mention being in relationship but only giving vague hints and images, truly never revealing who to your followers.

→ sighing as he slipped his phone into his pocket, he didn’t want to think about it all, so he decided to pay a visit to Osamu at his restaurant. to his twin’s dismay.

→ arriving there fairly quickly he waved at his brother who was behind the counter cleaning up for the night, seeing his twin wave back slightly before continuing on whatever he was doing.

→ Atsumu couldn’t help but noticed the metallic object that wrapped around Osamu’s ring finger.

→ “..’Samu? What’s on yer’ hand?”

→ “Oh- ya noticed already. I got engaged not so long ago, or recently.”

→ curiosity jabbing at the blonde made him eagerly question again.

→ “I- What?? By who!? ‘Samu ya didn’t even tell me you were in a relationship!” Atsumu could only just whine, knowing his brother didn’t share with him about his personal life after highschool.

→ “Shut up ‘Tsumu.. Don’t be so loud in my restaurant or I’ll kick yer ass out of here!”

→ “..but do you still wanna know?”

→ Osamu seeing his twin nod with anticipation made him sigh, knowing this wouldn’t end too well. “Well.. me and [Name] are getting married. Just got engaged with him two days ago.”

→ “..[Name]..?” Atsumu could only repeat the familiar name, his voice faint but still audible to his brother’s ears.

→ he couldn’t believe it. his brother... and..

→ “W-well-! That’s.. nice for both of ya, haha..” the blonde tried to played off, hoping that the wavering of his voice didn’t catch his attention but, Osamu already knew, simply playing along as the conversation continued and slowly shifted off to something else.

→ Atsumu had left the place rather quickly than he originally intended to stay- but he didn’t expect it. he didn’t expect you being engaged with his twin, eventually knowing you’ll see each other soon.

→ he didn’t know how to feel about this. he was happy for both of you- but- he wasn’t over you. although it has been more than two years, he wasn’t. he missed you, he yearned to see you again. he wanted to hear your laughter and giggles, your voice overall. he wanted to see you smile, he wanted to see your handsome face.

→ he wanted... you back. but he knows he can’t have you. not anymore.

𝚂𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊:

→ when you left passed the front door, you hadn’t come back after a few minutes. and it was.. raining. pretty badly.

→ having worry built up in his stomach that soon turned into a mixture of anxiety made him feel uneasy, overthinking the situation and words he said to you earlier made him choke on his actions.

→ snapping out of the trance, he rushed to go grab a coat to slip on. retrieving his phone. hurrying out the front door hoping to find you haven’t gotten too far already, almost slipping down some steps of the apartment building on the way to find you.

→ the rushing anxiety continue to flow through him, making his movements more loose and clumsy as he ran off to find you. calling out your name aimlessly of the darkened rainy streets. not caring that his curls were getting soaked in the pounding rain, he just wanted to find you.

→ to find you and keep you safe.

→ Sakusa’s heart kept increasing every moment he didn’t see you. he wanted to find you so bad- this anxiety he had was much worse than when around he was in crowds, this one felt more instinctual.

→ forgetting he had brought his phone, he slipped it out of his pocket quickly dialing and calling you. to find you answering on the second ring.

→ “..h-hello-?”

→ “[Name]..! T-thank god your safe.”

→ the slight mess-up Sakusa slurred with his words made you feel slightly worried, “..yes I am safe. what’s up with you??”

→ “Nothing..! But w-where are you?”

→ “I’m.. at a nearby cafe. Are you sure you-”

→ your boyfriend interrupted you quickly, “I’m on my way.”

→ “H-hey..! Don’t just-”, hearing the call end with singular beep, “aaaand.. he hung up..” you decided to look around from your position outside, grasping your phone nervously. realizing the rain was pounding down much harder than earlier.

→ the sound of the familiar voice calling your name from the distance caught your attention, gazing over to see Sakusa running over towards you.

→ “S-saku-”

→ jumping lightly at the sudden hug he enveloped you, muttering soft rushed apologies over and over again as he hid his drenched face in the crook of your neck. he had continued his rambles of apologies as you hugged him back, rubbing his back lightly. watching the ravened hair male let it out a little longer before you could mutter reassuring words to him back.

→ the tension slowly rising from his muscles but the hold of his hug didn’t falter at all, only continuing to snake around your waist.

→ “..you scared me..” “...im really sorry, babe.”

→ you lifted your gaze to meet Sakusa’s, lifting your hands up to cup his face. brushing a few strands of hair away from his view sending a quick peck onto his lips. “you don’t need to apologize anymore Omi. you did enough already..”

→ “A-and you’re drenched! Baby, you’re gonna get sick-” you blinked, noticing how flat his hair was from the rain that couldn’t reach you both from the small roof over the entrance of the cafe.

→ “..i-i’ll be fine..” the soft stutter Sakusa made noted he was embarrassed about the thought, “..i’m glad your the one not gonna be sick though.” he muttered before softly pecking your lips.

→ “Honey..” you sighed, taking your hands in his before heading inside the building. “..lets just get something to drink to warm us up, ‘kay? then we can head back.”

→ “I-m.. paying aren’t I-..”

→ “Yes. Yes you are. A treat after a bad tiring day!”

→ “..you just want sweets-”

→ “Shut it Kiyoomi.”

422 notes · View notes

hongism · 4 years ago

Text

touch of the devil - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader | ao3 version (mxm seongjoong) ↣ genre: angst, fluff if you SQUINT, nsfw, fantasy, supernatural, demon!hongjoong, emo rocker!hongjoong, there do be plot tho. ↣ wc: 9.0k ↣ summary: you came to make a deal with a devil sure, but this is the last thing you were expecting out of a night in a dingy bar. ↣ warnings: explicit smut, mention of death, demons, it’s actually really heavy on plot and angst and less focused on the smut ↣ a/n: again i know it’s my birthday but this is my present to you guys, i am a person who prefers to give rather than receive on my birthday and this was the first thing i wanted to work on during my hiatus!! i’ve got so much inspo and motivation rn that it’s crazy and i can’t wait to have everything all set out for you guys when im back :3

﹊﹊﹊

Everything about the air around you is heady and thick in a way that chokes you as you step through the fogged bar. This isn’t your sort of scene – not one you would typically find yourself frequenting on a Friday evening without even so much as the company of a friend – and yet here you stand with hands pressed into the pockets of your black leather jacket. There remains a dull thrum in the atmosphere of the club, a steady rhythm of bass and vibrations that makes your ears ring but you do your best to ignore it in favor of reaching the bartender.

“Just a rum and coke please,” you murmur, hand sneaking out of your pocket to lay a few bills flat against the wood counter. You tug your ID card out as well and flash it in the man’s direction when he raises an eyebrow at you, but upon seeing it, he relents and steps away from you to get the drink.

The question remains of why exactly you are in such a dismal and hopeless scene full of people too drunk off their rockers to even fumble around the bar with some sense of dignity. You, who is neither dismal or hopeless yourself nor are you drunk in the slightest (at least not yet).

The answer is simple. This is a breeding ground, a festering cesspool of desires and greed, and it is the prime place to find what you are looking for in terms of deals with the devil. Maybe not one specific devil, but certainly whatever demon you can get your hands on tonight. And you have quite the lot to choose from it seems, because as you glance around the neon-lit building, you can spot many pairs of red eyes glinting under the lights. You know you have no right to be picky — any and all of them will get the job done — but you can’t help but to note that none of them are as appealing as you imagined they would be. When your friend said that these demons thrived off of lust and appeal, you figured that meant they would purposefully up the ante in terms of physical appearances.

The disdain must show on your features as the bartender begins to speak again as he sets your drink down before you on the counter.

“None of them are for you,” he utters, and you twist back to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, chin tilting to the side in question, and the man huffs out a small laugh.

“They have their prey already. Picked ‘em the second they walked through the door. All it takes is one look to figure out what these needy people crave from them, what appearances they need to take, what voices to use, what outfits to wear. For people like you, though, something more is required before the real games begin.” He points a single bony finger at your face, staring you down over the length of his digit like it’s the barrel of a gun, and that has you shifting in your seat a bit.

“Something… more?”

“One must have a particular level of certainty before coming to make a deal with a demon, ma’am. But you — you don’t seem to truly know what it is you want. And for that reason, the King will see you with no ruses or deception.”

On the contrary, I wouldn’t have dared set foot in here if I didn’t know what it is I wanted, you want to say. However, your attention is held rapt by his final sentence, the one that held unspoken promise to it.

“And by that you mean physical alterations?”

“You catch on quickly, Miss.” The man leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip, and you glance over the motion only once before pushing away from the counter. He notes the slight annoyance in your features a moment later. “The King will like you quite a bit.”

“When can I expect for this ‘King’ to present himself?” You prop an elbow up on the counter and give one last forlorn glance around the bar in the hopes that someone will come over your way, but it’s to no avail.

“Patience, human. The show hasn’t even begun yet.” He motions towards the middle of the bar, the starkly empty space with a glossy stage set in the center with only a microphone held delicately in its stand and nothing else. You had been hoping to make this a speedy trip — a quick in and out with your deal made and nothing else — but it seems you won’t be having that luxury. And it is a bit frustrating, honestly, to come to this place with the expectation of having a demon cater to you and your wants only to be told that you aren’t certain enough for these supernatural beings, so you’ll have to wait on a demon who won’t cater to you or come to you immediately.

You take a quick swig of your alcohol with the desperate hope that perhaps drinking will make you more certain of what you want, although you already know it won’t. The bartender offers a shrug in response to your annoyance then pulls away to tend to other customers, and you take it as an invitation to swivel in your stool and face the stage. It’s still fucking empty, but at least it gives you a better view than the old wood of the counter that now sits under your elbows.

“Leave it to men to make me wait on them, demon or not,” you mutter under your breath, breath fogging the side of your glass a bit.

You nearly choke on the liquid inside in your next breath because the swirling red neon lights come to a halt on the center of the stage, and the suddenness of the shifting lights startles you so much that you have to sit up straight and inhale deeply to keep from coughing on the alcohol in your mouth. The hazed mist hovering above the floor of the bar seems to swirl towards the stage under the beams of light. You watch the movements as though in a trance, slowly leaning forward until your elbows come to rest on your knees. Out of everyone in the bar, you seem to be the only one interested in what’s going on at the center of the room. Mind you, everyone else is preoccupied: demons with their humans, and humans with the mask-wearing demons who cater to their desires. And while you have no reason to be so intrigued by the scene before you, you truly cannot bring yourself to look away, especially as the dull thrum of music in the bar heightens and gains momentum.

There is no way of describing the sounds rumbling around you. Perhaps if you were fully in your senses, you would be able to distinguish the instruments and beats of the song, but the bass clogs your mind and leaves you squinting at the hazy stage. It could be poetic, the way a lone figure pushes his way through the crowds of the bar like he holds all the power in the universe, studded black leather jacket slung around his shoulders. And as the red lights come over him, you can see his features better. Dusty brown hair that shines a bit, one side exposed and cut shorter than the other, which has bangs that hang loose over the side of his face. Metal bars line both ears, another near the end of his left brow, and a final more intricate one that loops around the middle of his lip and connects to two long metal chains. You follow the path of those chains with your eyes, watching them trail downwards until they loop around his chest and disappear behind his jacket. It’s just a black turtleneck that he wears underneath the dramatic leather regalia and chains but somehow he makes the garment look expensive. You dare glance a bit lower, just enough to make out the frayed and distressed jeans that cling to his skin like a vice, leaving hints of enticing skin underneath to peek through. You can’t see his feet thanks to the fog, but you can practically hear his footsteps drumming in your ears with the rise and fall of his shoes.

Simply put, you are entranced by the sight of this man — if he can even be called that, because you wouldn’t find yourself at all surprised should he reveal himself to be a demon on the tail end of this encounter. He barely looks up from the floor on his trek to the stage, only stopping when he comes before the mic stand and exhales against it in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It’s hardly reasonable for any creature to hold your attention in the palm of his hand the way this one does, but there is no chance of you looking away now, especially as his voice begins to drawl through the microphone and coat your ears like honey. There are words, you recognize enough in the music to know that it should be a song you’re familiar with, but none of them truly process in your daze.

It’s all you can do to just sit there and watch his performance. Between the gentle sways of his shoulders and hips, the teasing drag of his tongue over his lower lip whenever there is a break in his lyrics, and the overall intoxicating nature his aura exudes, you are hooked on every breath he takes. You don’t realize how relaxed your body has become under his spell until it’s too late, and that happens to be the last note of the song as well. It is accentuated with the drop of the glass in your hand and a sharp shatter of the cup against the floor. And just as you inhale a startled gasp and break out of your reverie, his deep crimson eyes flicker over to find yours across the bar. Those twisting lips churn something ugly in your gut. You can’t find the strength in your body to move.

“Mine.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as the word leaves his lips, and while you can’t hear it grate against your ears, you can clearly read his lips enough to know what he’s saying.

His eyes glint a bit in the darkness. It shouldn’t leave you wanting more, but that bitter taste of curiosity is nipping at the back of your throat, and you are far too intrigued to turn back now. You just want more. If he seems to understand that at all from the gleam in your eyes, he makes good on it, stepping off the stage and letting his hand drag over the mic in a way that is almost tantalizing. Step after step, he comes closer to you with his lips still curled into a smirk, and the way the lights hit him makes him seem to glisten and glow in the darkness. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he breaches your personal space and you release a shaky exhale that seems to fog in the air between you. He stretches a hand out to close the space between your bodies and curls his index finger under your chin. The touch is simultaneously hot and cold — your whole body seems to light on fire under it, yet at the same time, the chill in your bones deepens to an alarming degree.

“What is it you desire above all other things?” You can hear him now, loud and clear, and whilst you heard his singing beforehand, the simple rasp and lilt to his regular tone is something that has you unashamedly weak in the knees. “I can give you everything,” he whispers as he presses closer to you. Your knees brush against his form but he keeps on pushing forward until he’s slotted himself between them. The chain hanging from his lips rattles like a chime, singing its unknown song like church bells in the night, although you are far from God and heaven now. “All you need to do is ask.”

You cling to some semblance of reason while you can, knowing full well that it will all leave you soon enough, but for now, it lets you choke out a single statement that has the demon before you laughing under his breath.

“That’s not how it works.”

“And who are you to tell me how it works?” His finger curls a bit harder at your chin, and you can feel the blunt of his nail scraping over your skin. Your eyes are glued to his, so enamored and consumed that you can’t even think to look anywhere else.

In that moment, it is as though the universe is nothing but a speck of dust in the corner of your vision. Something so raw and whole like the man standing before you is all-powerful and vigilant in a way that has every nerve in your body at full attention, ready for whatever his next step might be. And that turns out to be quite the curveball as it seems because he leans closer to you, breath intermingling with yours, and you subconsciously curve your back into his touch to reach him closer. Still, even though you physically show how ready and desperate for the touch you are, he waits and glances over your features.

“What is it you desire from me, human?”

You have to vehemently restrain yourself from simply saying ‘you’ and getting on with it.

“Your name.”

“Is that all you would have from me?” As a demon, it is his life’s work to know the inner-workings of the festering desires of humans. You have no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what is it you want, even if you are not sure of it yourself, and you do not doubt that he won’t use that to his advantage either. But that’s what you asked for in coming here, and that is exactly what you both expected and wanted out of this.

Perhaps it is shameful, but just for once, you wanted to surrender control. Too often are you asked to have everything set out and planned and under control, and too often do you find yourself wanting someone to just tell you what it is you should do. That could be why the bartender labeled you as ‘uncertain’ because even in this moment of vulnerability, there is still the thinnest thread of thought tethering you to that control. And as of now, you want nothing more than for this demon before you to break that thread.

“I would have your name before I asked for anything else from you. Calling you demon over and over would certainly wear out its welcome, no?”

“That all depends on the context, my dear. But… you can call me Hongjoong, if that’s suitable to your tongue.”

“Hongjoong,” you try, testing the way the name rolls off your tongue in such a delicate manner that the demon before you flutters his lashes a bit.

“Sounds so pretty coming from lips so innocent.” He tilts his head to the side, and the movement flashes the pretty expanse of skin below his jaw. You aren’t shy in the way you let your gaze slip over it before trailing back up to meet his eyes again. “Would you close your eyes for me, doll?” He doesn’t have to ask. He could just make you do so with no resistance but still, he asks as though you could say no if you wanted to. You don’t though, and as such, your eyelids fall shut and your vision turns to black for the time being. “Do you know who I am?”

“Th-The bartender called you the King.”

“And do you understand what that means? Truly understand with every fiber of your being?” The question is heavy on your bones, and it is one that you feel like you should know the answer to yet you can’t find any response to his inquiry. Perhaps he means to confuse you because you hear the soft huff of a laugh fall from his lips. “King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead. Some would call me Pluto, others Hades, it varies from religion to religion and in every culture. Sometimes I pick up rather banal and common names, other times I find myself seeking something extravagant and luxurious. Now… Hongjoong will be a good middle-ground for us.”

You should be falling to the floor in absolute shock due to his words, but the steady finger under your chin keeps you steady. That and the growing fear in your gut as you come to realize that this man holds so much power in just his pinky finger and could absolutely crush you under his heel whenever he wishes. What are you to a god besides an insignificant fleck of dust on the pavement?

“And what of your appearance? Is that… manifested as well?” You dare to ask.

“I have many faces, yes, but this one is one I wear boldly and frequently. You could say it is my natural form. After so many millennia of fantastical myths and legends, however, I’m sure that would seem odd to you.”

“Are you truly a demon then?”

“King of demons, yes. Whether I am truly a demon myself is something that could be ambiguous, I suppose, but if they are all part of my creations, then would that not make me one myself? Though you could say they are all fragments of my own being, making them all mythical gods. It’s all a matter of perspective; however, I doubt that you came searching this place for a lesson on perspectives.”

“No, I came for…” You trail off, and that blossoming uncertainty from before presents itself again.

“There are two things your heart wants right now. One, I can give you with ease and grace, only if you would allow it. That desire is a fleeting one, however, and I do not think it is what you are truly after in being here. The second… that is a wish I cannot deliver, and I think you are more than aware of that. The reason everyone left you to me is because of what you want. It is a domain only I could ever touch.”

You blink your eyes open in haste, searching his deep crimson gaze for some sort of confirmation of the words. The demon dares to look forlorn and lets his stare drop to the floor rather than looking you directly in the eye. Confusion blossoms in your gut. Yes, you figured there was a slim chance that your wish could not be granted, but still you clung to the desperate hope that maybe there was just a small window of opportunity for such a wish to be granted.

“Death is irreversible,” the demon, Hongjoong as he wishes to be called, says in a quiet tone. “I cannot give that which you want more than anything else.”

“Then what can you give?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible to keep your emotions from slipping out the corners.

“One of two things: I can give you time to speak with him once more or I can make you forget the pain.”

“And if I choose the latter?”

“It would make you forget everything about him and leave you with no memory of him at all.” Hongjoong exhales a small sigh, the bouncing rhythms of the bass rumbling against your ears along with the sounds of his breaths. “You need not decide right this instant. The payment will be the same either way, so we can settle that first if you’d like.”

“W-Wait,” you stammer. You dare to open your eyes once more. “How would I be able to speak to him if you can’t bring him back?”

“I cannot bring him back the way you want. He… he is gone, and though I am the King of the Dead, there are powers even I do not have. Bringing him back to life is impossible, but I can create a doorway for the two of you to speak through for a short period of time. I have no control over how long it would be, just a forewarning. That is all up to him and his willingness to see you.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to see me,” you murmur, but the pang in your chest tells you otherwise.

“Sometimes, death and the underworld change fundamental parts of people. They are no longer alive, after all, and as such, those human vices and personality traits dissipate. How you knew him in life could be vastly different than the spirit who now resides in my domain. It is all a matter of weighing risks, my dear. What matters most to you? Remembering him or him remembering you?”

“So if I ask to see him, I would remember him but there’s a chance that he would have no recollection of me? And should I ask to forget, there will be no way of knowing whether he remembers me in the afterlife or not?”

“Precisely.”

That is a hefty bargain to weigh. It is almost too much for your shoulders just to think about it. One is starkly more selfish than the other, but if he’s dead, what good will selflessness do you? It won’t bring him back, that’s for sure. Either you are left with the painful realization that he does not have any memory of you in the afterlife, or you forget it all to avoid that pain. Maybe thinking about the payment before deciding would be a good idea after all.

“As for the payment? How many years do I owe you?” Demons have no use for human currency or trinkets that could be traded for favors. You can barter the only thing you have — years of life. Whether it shortens your lifespan or turns you into a personal slave for a certain amount of time, that is a price you must be willing to pay for such services. You are more than prepared to barter it all off right now if need be.

“None,” Hongjoong answers coolly, and you quirk a brow upwards at the nonchalance in his tone. “I do not deal in years of life. Not often, at least. My abilities are bound in… passion. Lovemaking, fornication, sex, fucking – whatever you wish to call it. Of course, it wouldn’t have to be that exactly, should you not desire that. The other option is a blood pact, a ritual that would take hours to complete, although both could take quite some time depending on your stamina.” There’s a breath of silence that allows Hongjoong’s lips to twist into a suggestive grin, and heat brushes the base of your neck as you fight off waves of embarrassment. “I cannot guarantee that the blood pact would be painless. With sex, I could at least provide some comfort that the pain would only be temporary; however, the choice is yours. Both are binding and would mean that you could never make a deal with another demon again, and you would be marked as mine for eternity.”

“What does being yours entail?”

“Nothing diabolical or unsavory, I promise. Just… when the time comes for you to pass on and join the Underworld, you would take a place at my side.”

“How many people have you laid claim to? Did they all agree to the same terms? How can I trust your word?” The questions tumble from your lips without relent.

“For what you desire, the cost is far less than what I would usually ask for. Those lucky enough to deal with me in the past paid less for their debts. The blood pact… the fornication… both are binding elements. The real cost is your service. Most have agreed to give me their servitude in the afterlife, all with their own places in my domain. That is what you would be offering as well. You will live just as long as you would without making this deal but make up for it after your death.”

“And that’s it?”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkle a bit under the lights above your heads.

“What did you expect from me, doll? Savagery? Unfairness? Everyone deserves a fair price for what they want, regardless of station in life or status in society.”

“Deal,” you utter without any more hesitation, blinking up into Hongjoong’s dark orbs. There lies a lingering sense of regret in your gut, one that you cannot chase away no matter how hard you try, but you do not need to dwell on it any longer.

“And how would you like to bind our deal, my dear? Neither can be handled immediately. The blood pact requires special preparations for the ritual, but the other — I would not have you in such a place as dirty as this.”

“I-I, um, sex will work just fine,” you bite out, the skin of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“Then when the time comes that you are ready with your decision on what it is you truly want, all you need to do is take this—” Hongjoong retracts his hand from where it rests gently against the column of your throat and digs into one of his pockets. He pulls out a gilded card, one that is black and gold with flecks of red across the surface, but there are no other adornments to the material. “Tear it in half and it will bring you to our meeting place, and I will join you there to seal the deal. Should you decide that you do not want this after all, then all you need to do is burn the card. The decision lies in your hands, and yours alone.” He has to lift one of your limp hands and forcefully place the card into your waiting palm, closing his fingers around yours to make you cling to the item.

“I – th-thank you,” you stammer as you blink from your closed hand to Hongjoong’s features.

“The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

Those are the last words you hear from the demon before he slips away from you, the dense fog lingering in the air swirling up around his body, and within moments, his shadowy form disappears entirely from sight. The air grows cold around you once more. You are left with only the fleeting desire for that warmth to return, for you to feel less alone than you are in that moment, and even if it’s the briefest visit ever you just want one last chance to tell your lost lover how you feel without mistakes this time.

///

The night, as per usual, is cold and unforgiving. It allows for too many opportunities to be alone with lost feelings and thoughts. It has been weeks (if not months) since you visited that dingy club and your fateful meeting with none other than the King of the Dead. Yet you are still here, wallowing in the memories that you’ve been left to suffer with alone, and the gilded black card sits in your nightstand untouched. You open the drawer just to stare at it from time to time, when the nights are particularly rough, and it already had begun collecting a thin layer of dust the last few times you looked at it.

It isn’t that you haven’t made your decision about what you want from your deal with Hongjoong. The more terrifying fact is that you are fully aware of what it is you want, and you simply cannot rectify the guilt that comes along with the pure selfishness of your decision. The feeling is so potent that it swarms your every thought. You know it wouldn’t be an issue once you meet with Hongjoong; the demon will take it all away and leave you with nothing. You won’t even know enough to be guilty any longer, but the pain of committing to the decision is strong enough to make you sick to your stomach.

Wooyoung — the one who suggested you go to the club and make the deal in the first place — will not shut up about how worried he is about you. You won’t recall the deal or why you made it, so what’s holding you back? A temporary guilt that won’t exist longer than a few seconds once you’re actually in Hongjoong’s presence? As he said, you just need to swallow the feeling and get on with it. Prolonging the regrets any longer won’t do you any good.

You huff out a quiet laugh in the silence of your darkened room. The black gilded card taunts you again now, gleaming up at you through the shadows with its faint hints of gold and red. Maybe Wooyoung is right and the only way to get rid of missed opportunities is to forget about them entirely. Yeosang was but a chapter in your life, one that is past and gone now, and as Hongjoong said, there is no reversing death. Seeing him one last time won’t give you anything but pain.

You stretch a shaky hand towards the card in the drawer. It’s cold to the touch, dust billowing up with even the slightest touch of your fingers. You have to dig your nail under the material to pull it up, and once it’s safely set in your palm, you drag your thumb over the surface to brush the dirt away. No words on the surface, no sign that it has been touched by a demon, and not even a hint as to what it could possibly be for.

It is surprisingly flexible, at least moreso than you would have imagined, and you give it a few testing bends to see how easy it would be to break. Hongjoong simply gave you the instruction to tear it in half and that was all. You don’t expect him to suddenly materialize before you on a whim, but surely such a creation is bound by some sort of magic on his part. It is hard enough to believe that demons are real living creatures, but magic as well? Maybe you’ve passed on and just don’t realize it yet. Still, you exhale one last huff of air into the darkness before letting your eyes flutter shut. Taking the card between your hands, you begin to slowly rip the material until it separates with the force, torn in two mismatched pieces.

Nothing fantastical happens.

That fact alone is so overwhelmingly disappointing that you really think for a moment that Hongjoong was just some goth rocker in a stoner bar who pulled an elaborate trick on you. It can’t be too difficult to get your hands on some weird red-toned contacts and weave some elaborate story about being the King of Hell. You could do that yourself. Why did you think he was incapable of such a charade?

Because he knew what you wanted without you having to say it.

Yes, well, Wooyoung claimed that your regrets and grief were evident in your features every time he looked at you. Maybe Hongjoong could see it as well.

You fall back onto your bed, flattening your back against the mattress with a small shout of frustration. The urge to cry is strong; if you’ve spent all these weeks uselessly worrying over something that could all be a farce, you don’t even know how you would react. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, blinking away the tears that blossom in the corners there as best you can. The rolling emotions in your system distract you from the sudden shift in temperature, and before you know it heat washes over you and fills the void of cold in your body. You jerk but refuse to sit up quite yet, eyes flying open in your shock only to choke on air as a bright golden light fills your vision and swarms you with warmth. The cushion under your body doesn’t feel the same either; it is not your bed, it’s too plush and soft, too warm under you, and you feel like you are absolutely drowning in the sensation.

Gold flickers above you, twinkling lights that glisten like small stars above you, and the ceiling is so dark that you nearly think it’s just an opening to the night sky. You sit up in a mad panic. The gold and red decorations littering the far too lavish room barely process in your vision as you look for a way out, and you don’t even see the figure coming up along your side until he’s upon you. A hand stretches out to brush over your forehead. You nearly shriek in your state of terror, but the sound is all but stolen from your lungs instead.

“It’s only me, doll. You’re safe.”

Hongjoong. Ah, Hongjoong. Then… he was telling the truth. It wasn’t a farce or a deception meant to be a game. He claimed to be the Devil Incarnate, and here he stands before you in a room too rich and exquisite for words. You can’t find it in you to think he’s lying now.

You dare to glance up and meet his gaze, finding it so soft on your face that you have the audacity to blush under his stare despite the things you’ll be doing with him soon enough.

“Have you made your decision then?” He asks, tone soft and light. It isn’t one that demands an immediate answer. You know he could ask what took you so long to decide, complain about your hesitance, say that you kept him waiting for far too long — instead, he exudes patience with you, hand slowly combing over your forehead down to your cheek and brushing over the skin there with a touch so featherlight that you almost don’t realize it’s there at all.

“I-I have,” you whisper like the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room and it’s a secret meant only for your ears.

“What would you have from me first then? As I told you before, the payment is the same regardless of your decision, and as such, we can bind the deal first if you’d rather.”

You swallow around nothing. There is no harm in going through with the decision now, but your nerves are so frazzled and out of sorts that you almost desire the sex simply as a means of stress relief. Hongjoong steps in front of you, fully coming into view, and you are shocked at how… mundane he looks. You blink fervently at the man — demon, rather — and take in the gentle part of his hair, the soft glow of his skin that makes him look simply ethereal under this light. He hardly looks like a demon to you; his features are too smooth and perfect for that, from the curves of his lips to the even line of his nose. Although you suppose that’s all he wants you to see, yet it still seems oddly intimate to a certain degree.

“You aren’t worried that I’ll try to run away after my wish is fulfilled?” You ask. Hongjoong arches his brows at you, and his neutral expression slips into one of momentary shock.

“Where are you going to go, my dear? I brought you to this place, and you will need me to send you back once we’re done here.”

It sinks in at that moment how you are completely at his mercy right now. Not that you had any plans of running away, but the question was moreso just to test the waters, see if he is truly as merciful as his features make him out to be. The underlying danger in his tone proves your point and sends a chill down your spine.

“Is that something I ought to be worried about, doll? Should I claim you now to make sure you keep your end of the bargain?” The question sits on your ear like warm honey. It chokes you, fills your senses with Hongjoong’s scent, and you almost find yourself leaning into his curling lips before catching yourself. That seems to pique his interest in the very least, and his smile twists a bit more. “The decision is in your hands as always. I won’t do anything you don’t give me explicit permission to do.”

“Permission granted,” you mutter before catching a hand on Hongjoong’s collar. “Do it all.” You aren’t too worried about damaging his clothes as he’s not wearing anything drastically fancy or expensive-looking, and thus you twist your fist into a ball around the fabric of his black tee and yank him down to your height. He bends at the waist, hands catching on the mattress before his forehead can smack hard against yours. There’s a bit of tension in his neck, and that keeps him far enough back so that he doesn’t kiss you quite yet. It’s almost as though he is waiting for something else, eyes carefully tracing your features with great care before he settles on your lips, and a sharp inhale of breath follows before that thin line in his composure snaps.

His lips hit yours with a surprising amount of force, and the kiss isn’t at all what you were expecting — well, to be more accurate, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting in the first place. It’s much more pleasant than you could have imagined though, and Hongjoong isn’t shy with the touch at all. His tongue is quick to swipe over your lower lip, hands darting upwards to brush over your sides before reaching your face, and he brings a knee down on the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you. You follow the motion when he pushes forward and lean back until you have no choice but to scoot back on the bed. Hongjoong moves with you with the same amount of fervor, still pressed to your lips without relent, and you don’t even think to stop as he completely drapes himself over your body, knees still up and supporting his weight. The cushion of the mattress dips by your head, a telltale sign that he’s placed his hands there, and you use that as your opportunity to stop for air. Hongjoong surely has no need to breathe like you do since he is undead, but he still pants above you, chest heaving as a pretty flush rises to his cheeks.

“Putting that much power in a demon’s hands is dangerous, is it not?” He mutters. You let your lashes flutter shut as he moves back to your lips, hot breath ghosting over your skin. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s something I don’t like,” you murmur, opening an eye to peek at him. He meets your gaze with a soft laugh, but your answer seems to please him enough to bring his attention back to your lips. You inhale as his tongue breaches your mouth and pushes into the wet cavern inside. There’s no chance for you to fight back for any sort of dominance because he only thrusts deeper and coats the inside of your mouth with his taste until you can feel his tongue brushing over your palate. A quiet moan reverberates through your throat and against his lips. You feel the barest hint of a smile in the kiss, then his lips are suddenly gone from yours. You gasp for air with the freedom. Heat pools in the depths of your gut, a pleasant one that leaves you wanting more, and you aren’t sure if it’s simply been so long since you last had sex or if Hongjoong truly has that effect on you.

He returns to touching your body a moment later, hands trailing to the row of buttons on your nightshirt, and one by one, he pulls them apart until the material is barely clinging to your skin. His lips replace his fingers then. First at your jaw placing a wet trail of kisses and soft nips that leave you with goosebumps. Then he reaches the midpoint of your sternum and rests the flat of his tongue there, tasting and teasing your skin until you can do nothing but writhe under him because he is taking so damn long. Your impatience is laughable to him, as evidenced by the quiet huff of air that leaves him next.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he mumbles against the skin of your stomach, hands pulling your nightshirt away to expose more of the skin underneath. He makes good on his words, and that damn tongue traces lower and lower until he reaches the band of your pants and underwear. You instinctively dart a hand down to tangle in his hair. “F-Fuck.” The curse slips out when you give an accidental tug to the hair close to his nape, and you nearly think that you’ve hurt him in some manner until you catch sight of the blissed-out expression on his features.

“D-Do you — can I…?”

“Do it harder while I eat you out,” he growls. His fingers close hard around the remainders of your close, and you don’t even have time to nod before he’s yanking both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. It leaves you more than a little exposed — you’re suddenly nearly nude before the demon who is still fully clothed, and that realization draws your thighs tight together in a sudden rush of embarrassment. You swallow hard around nothing, eyes darting away from Hongjoong’s prying gaze.

All of a sudden, he shrugs your hand off his hair and sits back on his heels. You don’t understand what his reasoning is until you settle your eyes back on his body. He’s leaned back to start stripping layers of clothes off in a rush, hands fumbling and struggling to pull them away in an orderly manner. There is no composure to his actions, only a hastened fervor that has him tossing his shoes far from the bed along with random articles of clothes until he’s laid fully bare before you. You really try your hardest not to glance down at his… you know, but the urge is overwhelming. Before you can even catch a glimpse, however, Hongjoong is on you again, hands latched around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he kneels before you on the floor. The sudden movement has you squealing in surprise, and that noise is broken off into a startled moan when Hongjoong’s lips brush through your folds without warning.

“O-Oh god,” you gasp out. Hongjoong’s tongue gives a long and dragging pull through your heat, teasing some of the juices out of you with little restraint.

“Far from it actually,” he replies against your clit. A cheeky grin eats away at his features, but it quickly disappears as he returns his focus to your cunt. Your hand finds its way back down to his hair once more and tugs hard at the strands. Each tweak of his tongue through your folds has your legs jerking a bit, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving so much under his touch.

“I’m not — I w-won’t last, pl-please, I–” You can’t even finish the sentence as Hongjoong flicks the tip of his tongue right over your clit and cuts you off. He repeats that same motion, again and again, brings you right to the precipice of an orgasm only to tear you back down from it with soft kisses pressed to the outside of your folds. You can’t keep track of how many times he repeats that process, but it is more than enough to have you shaking from exhaustion and desperation even though you haven’t even been able to come yet.

“Are you going to beg for it, doll?” Hongjoong hums after what feels like hours of pleasurable torture. “I promised to make you feel good, did I not? You just have to tell me what you want.” His words are so taunting that it burns you with embarrassment. The need for that orgasm hangs on every nerve ending of your body, and you could cry just out of the need to come.

“Please,” you whisper in a tone broken from constant moans and cries.

“Be more specific.” It’s so cruel. He dangles the promise of pleasure before your eyes again, this time nipping ever so gently at your bud, and you really do cry this time, fingers digging harshly on his scalp. That draws a prolonged growl from his lips, and it reverberates against you so nicely that you could come from that. Hongjoong pulls his head back too soon though and the sensation is dashed away.

“N-No, no, please. P-Please, Hongjoong, I — please let me come. I need it, I need it so badly. Shit, just – just please let me come,” you wail as tears slip out the corners of your eyes and spill onto the sheets under you. That’s the breaking point for him as well, or so it would seem, because the next time his mouth brushes through your cunt, he doesn’t relent. You come undone on his tongue, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm as he fucks his wet muscle into your heat. He won’t stop chuckling either — a low noise that just prolongs the pleasure and makes you quiver from overstimulation. He doesn’t let up until a dry and choked sob pushes past your lips.

Suddenly he is back up on the bed, bent over your body to be eye to eye with you. His fingers trace over your wet cheeks then clasp hard around your jaw.

“Too much?”

“N-No,” you stammer through the wet cries. “So good. So so good.”

“Mm, can you take my cock too, doll?” He all but purrs the words against your skin. His soft and trailing kisses return to your skin, peppering the line of your jaw just past his fingers.

“Yes, please, I c-can. Please. I want i-it all.” You never thought you could sound so overwhelmingly desperate, but the tumbling sensation that swerves through your stomach as Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts has you falling into absolute shambles. He shifts your position, pushing you up higher to rest against the pillows, and you start to drape your legs around his waist. That must not be the position he had in mind though, because his hand clamps down hard on one of your calves and pushes it to the top of his shoulder. Before you can even blink, he does the same with your other leg, effectively folding you in half and into a position you weren’t even aware that your body was capable of. That shock is momentary as you feel the tip of what must his cock rubbing over your pulsating hole. You can’t do anything but ball your fists around the sheets under you and cling to them like a vice. It’s the only thing that can prepare you for his girth; the stretch may not be as much as you thought it would be, but it still stings like a bitch even after he bottoms out in you. That pain must be showing on your features – in the way your brows are tightly knit together and your eyes are screwed shut so that excess tears from earlier slip out.

The soft caress of lips touches your forehead. It’s so gentle and delicate that you nearly miss it in your efforts to grow used to the sensation between your legs, but Hongjoong repeats it time and time again until your breathing steadies and your chest stops heaving as much. It’s only then that he dares to resituate his hips. You crack an eye open to look at him, and it’s abundantly clear that he’s trying his hardest to hold back and keep from fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, pulling a hand off the bedsheets to brush some loose strands of hair out of Hongjoong’s vision. “Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” You snake the same hand around the back of his neck. When he still doesn’t move, you offer a sharp tug to the hair that falls over his sweat-slick nape, and that spurs him into action. His hips snap roughly against yours, pushing your back further into the crude curve it’s already in. Now that the dull throbbing pain has dissolved into a sensation of pleasure, you drown yourself in the drag of his member inside you. It’s quite possibly the best feeling you’ve had all night with the way his tip rubs over your bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

Hongjoong drops his elbows to the pillow under your head, and you greet him with a kiss that is mostly just an awkward clash of teeth for the most part. He gains enough composure to shift the angle to one that’s easier for both of you, hips still working hard as he rocks into you with the same force and speed as before. You are so lost in the euphoria that you can’t even feel your next orgasm sneaking up on you, but when it does, it pulls a noiseless scream from your lips. Hongjoong mouths at the corner of your lips as you ride it out. He still seems far off from his own high, even as he slows the pulses of his thrusts. You claw your way back from the high of your orgasm to grip his hair tighter and pull him closer to you.

“In me. I need you to come in me or not at all,” you demand through a huffed out sigh. It’s a moment of throwing caution to the wind, one that is quite worth it thanks to the expression of hunger and lust that fills Hongjoong’s face.

“You can’t just say things like that, doll,” he growls into the shell of your ear. You try to laugh but he interrupts you with a thrust harsher than any of the ones before. Every sound that falls from your lips now is stuttered and broken at the seams, and you let him fuck you with that same level of passion until he finally seems to tire and lose his rhythm. The only warning you have that he’s about to orgasm is the slight whine to his tone when he moans next. You push what strength you have left into clenching hard around his cock, and that is ultimately what tips him over the edge and pulls a delightful moan from his lips as he spills into your tight heat. He releases his hold on your legs, letting them slip away from his shoulders and back into a more comfortable position on the bed, but he refuses to move off your body.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like that: with Hongjoong continually mouthing small kisses to the underside of your jaw and you just staring blankly at the glittering ceiling with a mind nearly empty. However much time passes doesn’t quite matter because once you recover your senses enough to be coherent again, you recall what is supposed to come next. Shaky hands find their way to Hongjoong’s arms and trail up to rest atop his back.

“Take it all away,” you exhale through a pant, hands clinging desperately to the milky skin of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I don’t want to remember him anymore.” His chest heaves against yours, and a few loose strands of dark hair fall forward to stick to his sweat-slick forehead. This time when he kisses you, it is hot and searing, a brand against your lips, one that burns the inside of your mouth and sets your tongue alight. The sensation slips down the back of your throat, fills your gut, burns you from the inside out, and all your thoughts go hazy under the touch of his lips. With that one kiss, Hongjoong takes it all away. He gives into your desires, heeds your wishes, and grants you the ultimate peace and serenity you so deeply craved. He continues to cling to you like he’s never held something so desperately or lost in his infinite existence. You return the embrace in full while you can, strength already leaving you in the afterglow of your fornication, and you rake your nails down over his back if only to leave him with some sort of trophy to leave with. He is already leaving with your memories though, a trophy to hold close to his heart should there ever be a time when you ask for them to be returned to you. Perhaps in your afterlife, you’ll ask for them back, and Hongjoong would gladly give them should it be what you desire.

That is what he is, after all. As much as he takes, the Demon King of the Underworld gives in return, where he can with what he can. His duty, his bond, the sole purpose for his existence is to maintain that balance between giving and taking. But if it’s for you — a creature so lost, dismal, and hopeless — perhaps he can tip the scales a bit further in your direction.

At least, that’s what he thinks as you curve your body into his and press your lips with more fervor than before. That maybe, just maybe, endless years of his own hopelessness and confusion were all meant to lead him to finding this: a purpose in his undying life.

﹎﹎﹎

#atzinc #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios

478 notes · View notes

houseof-harry · 4 years ago

Text

Fuck You Too | G.D.

Part 2 of Hate You Too

A/N - surprise! why im posting so late, I couldn’t tell you but here we are. im so excited to share this part w y'all, and im currently obsessed with this whole story line at this point. pls lmk what you guys think!!!!! (and @vintagedolan is an amazing gifer and I will be using her gifs on everything I post but we knew I loved her from the start and anyways)

Word Count - 5.3k

Warnings - some nasty, some angst, nothing new

Kacey described it as a glow.

You hated that, because that made everything seem warm and magical and nice. That’s not what you were feeling, despite the new pep in your step.

But how were you supposed to tell Kacey you’d slept with her boyfriend’s twin that you despised and now you couldn’t stop thinking about it?

The worst part was everything was almost back to normal the next day. He was making rude comments, you were rolling your eyes, and you were flipping each other off by the time dinner came around all over again. But something felt a little different to you. The way his eyes shined a bit brighter when you caught him giving you a death glare, the way you thought about your late night activities with him whenever he flashed you his middle finger, a whole new meaning associated with the action.

You hated that he was giving you these new feelings. So you decided to hate him even more for it.

Luckily, since your mini vacation you’d been able to avoid seeing Grayson. And you thought you’d be able to continue that streak tonight. You and your friends were headed to your favorite bar for tequila tuesday. You didn’t typically participate in something that sounded like an excuse for a frat to throw down during the week, but between your constant thoughts of Grayson and your stress from heading back to work, you were in need of a midweek drink. Or ten.

So you got on your best top, your cutest jeans, your hottest shoes, and you made sure your hair and makeup were both perfect. Tonight was about distracting, about your “glow” becoming sweat from dancing with your friends, and maybe even having an actual excuse as to why you were less uptight because Kacey was getting way too suspicious for your liking.

When you first got there, your spirits were high. Your friends were quick to get some tequila in you, and before you knew it you had that warm feeling all over your body. You had hope, you were feeling good and loose, ready to forget everything that had been haunting you for almost two weeks.

But then the Dolans walked through the doors, and it was almost like you had this 6th sense they were there because the second Grayson was inside, your eyes met. You quickly moved your gaze elsewhere, anger already flowing through your veins alongside the alcohol that was continuing to fog your brain by the minute.

You hear Kacey greet Ethan excitedly, and turn your head to see her almost tackle him down. It makes you giggle to yourself because as much as you had wanted to hate them at first, they were cute as fuck. They almost made you want a relationship of your own. Almost.

“Already drunk?” The deep, and now familiar voice of Grayson comes from behind you, already way too close for comfort.

A scowl makes its way onto your face as you turn around, finding him almost directly behind you. You have to look up at him to see his face, and he looks plenty amused with how much he’s already gotten under your skin.

“Maybe. Does it matter to you?”

He shrugs casually, looking around and smiling at the rest of your friends before looking back down at you. “Not at all. Just something I’d expect from you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and pushing at his chest so you can step away from him. “Mind your fucking business, Dolan. I don’t even know why you’d come to a bar when you know you’re not gonna drink.”

“Oh, so I’m not welcome to hang out with you guys? That’s kind of mean, Y/N. Does alcohol make you mean?”

The teasing tone of his voice is only adding to your quickly building frustration as you take a large sip of your drink. “You haven’t seen mean from me yet.”

Before he gets a chance to respond, you walk over to Mila, a more than annoyed look on your face.

“Fuck that kid,” you mumble, finishing off the rest of your drink in a few gulps.

She laughs, shaking her head at you. “Easy there, tiger. You’ve already had four shots and two of those. You wanna be able to walk out of here by the end of the night?”

You roll your eyes, putting your empty cup on the table. “Fine, mom.”

“Damn, he’s been here for less than five minutes and you’re already a bitch,” she laughs, her eyes going to Grayson for a moment to watch him talk to Jas before she looks back at you.

“Can you blame me? He’s unbearable,” you whine, a pout on your lips. You feel a bit childish, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Grayson was a nuisance. A nuisance with a big dick. But definitely a nuisance.

“I think you’re literally the only one who feels that way,” she responds, her eyes clearly raking up and down his body, and you turn to do the same. The tight black long sleeve shirt defines his muscles quite nicely, and his jeans follow the curve of his ass.

You shake your head to bring you out of your trance, knowing yourself too well. Tequila made you horny, and you refused for him to be the one you wanted to spend the night with.

“He’s shallow, condescending, and straight up rude. I don’t get how any of you even like him.”

“You’re the only one he seems to be like that too, though. I wonder why.” Mila grabs her chin, tapping her lips as she tries to think of a reason.

You can’t help the anger that bubbles right back to the surface at her statement, though. That’s all everyone tells you. He’s so nice, and cares about others, and he makes people laugh and is a good time overall. It’s just you that he isn’t nice to. And they love to remind you every time he comes up in conversation, which is more often than you find necessary. They seem to literally swoon over him. You wonder if he’s fucked them too, and that’s how he has a hold over all of them. Maybe he thought it was what would make you like him more, but it didn’t fucking work and you despised how much of a cocky ass he was about fucking you.

So you do what you do best, and find the most attractive man you can. It’s almost laughable how much he looked like Grayson. He was about 6 foot, dark hair, beard, tattoos all over his legs, defined muscles, almost a Grayson look a like. But not quite. And fortunately enough for you, he was easy to woo because he was dragging you out of the bar not even an hour later to bring you back to his place. You hoped he was a distraction enough, finally no Grayson in site to continue to ruin any type of fun you were determined to have.

***

You were grateful that your friends so regularly opened their homes to you. It led to many nights spent at their pools, in their living rooms, cooking in their kitchens, that all created new amazing memories for you to remember forever.

And that’s what you guys were all doing tonight. You were at Mila’s pool, floating around with everyone and going over your weeks to catch up. That’s when Mila asked about the guy you went home with, and you decided now was your moment to finally brag about the man from the bar. He didn’t make you cum as hard as Grayson did, but he got the job done and you’ll be damned if you don’t let everyone know.

To be honest, when Grayson heard you talking, for a moment he couldn’t even blame you for fucking the guy and being so proud about it. But then he remembered it was you talking, and he instantly felt his blood pressure rise.

“His hands were just so...big. And his hand print was bruised on me literally until this morning.”

All the girls around you giggle, ignoring Grayson's looming presence as he wafted in the water closer and closer, trying to seem as casual as possible with his back turned to you all.

“Oh my god and the way he just manhandled me, he picked me up without even batting an eye. It was fucking amazing.”

“Ugh, you’re really out here living the dream,” Mila sighs out, a pout adorning her lips.

“For real, Y/N, you gotta give us all the tips,” Jas adds, a knowing smirk on her face. You roll your eyes before looking at the other girls again.

Before you can respond with anything, Ethan is announcing dinner and the girls are dispersing. You decide to float around for a few minutes alone, wanting the space before you’re back at the dinner table with everyone.

“So he’s got nice hands?”

You jump and cover your mouth, fear shooting through your body for a moment as you turn to see Grayson in the water with you.

“Jesus fucking christ you dick. How long have you been stalking me?”

He rolls his eyes, sinking into the water so that just his neck and head are above it. “It’s a small ass pool, I’m not stalking you.”

You huff, looking over to see all of your friends starting to get their food and sit around the table that’s blocked by the fire pit. You could see them, but they could barely see you. “Aren’t you going to eat or some shit?”

“Aren’t you?”

“God you’re annoying.” You decide to move and float on your back, closing your eyes so you can do your best to ignore him.

“Bet he didn’t make you cum as hard as I did.”

You groan, clenching your fists as heated anger shoots through you. Of course he’s right, but he shouldn’t know it. “You’re such a fucking boy. Not everything is a damn competition. But, if it was, he won.”

For a minute you��re met with silence, and you think maybe he’s actually going to leave you alone.

“Liar.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, shifting your body to be upright again. You’re met with his smug face, muscles bulging as his skin drips with water from the pool. For a second you think about how he definitely looks better than the other guy would dripping wet like that, but you shut it down real fast. “First, you need to put your ego in check. This may come as a shock to you, but you’re not some god on earth. Second, stop talking about this shit while our friends are here. They don’t need to know shit happened.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I definitely don’t want them knowing I slept with the fake ass princess of town. I’m just saying it’s a shame you think you’ll ever get better dick than mine.”

“You are such a fucking asshole. Like a grade A, picture perfect image of an asshole.” You start to swim to the edge, over his antics. Your patience for him is thin to start, and he’s pushed your buttons enough for you to need another two weeks of not seeing his stupid face. You reach for the deck, getting ready to pull yourself out when you feel two large hands grip your waist, forcing you to stay shoulder deep in the water. You couldn’t stand here, but he could.

“Running away from your problems, like always?” His voice is right in your ear and you’re sure if you shift your head just a tiny bit you’d feel his lips there as well.

“So you finally admit you’re a problem?”

He chuckles softly, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. “Maybe. But you’re not much better.”

You cock your head to move farther from his, almost as if you’re considering his words. “Maybe,” you mock him, your muscles tensing as one of his hands slowly moves to the front of your bathing suit. His fingers dip in, quickly finding your clit and getting to work. You hate that your body naturally responds as you relax like putty in his grip, your legs spreading. “But at least I don’t have to trap random girls in a pool with me to reassure my fat fucking ego.”

He bites his lip, temporarily ignoring your words and he continues to circle your clit. He listens to your quiet whimpers as you do what you can to stay silent, both for the sake of not feeding further into his pride and to keep your activities a secret.

Soon your chest is rising and falling quickly and you’re grateful you’re in a pool because there would be no other way to explain the drips of sweat on your hairline. You can feel the fire in the pit of your stomach slowly growing, spreading throughout your entire body.

“Interesting you think you’re a random girl,” he mumbles into your ear before removing himself completely from you.

You gasp, quickly coming back to reality as your orgasm fades into the past, watching him pull himself out of the pool next to you. It should honestly be illegal how good his back looked when doing that.

He looks down at you, annoying ass smirk and all with his hands on his hips as he watches you try to process everything that just happened. “Going to eat. Or some shit.”

And with that he leaves you alone in the pool, cheeks flushed, pussy clenching and a whole lot to think about.

***

“You’ve got the new dick glow girl, I’m telling you.”

“Oh jesus, Kace. It’s not even 9 in the morning,” you huff, sitting across from her at your table, breakfast in hand.

“You have been happier lately,” Ethan chimes in as he watches you begin to eat the vegan french toast he claims will change your world.

You take a bite, shaking your head. “That’s not a thing, and even if it were I don’t have it. Haven’t had dick in a week.”

Although that’s technically true, your mind can’t help but go to the pool from a few days ago. There was no dick involved, but it definitely made you flush a bit. There was definitely no glow, though. If anything it was from embarrassment that you let Grayson touch you again. Or, that’s what you tell yourself, at least.

“Well you’re acting like you’re getting dick every night. Was it so good you masturbate thinking about it every night?”

“Oh jesus christ.”

Ethan turns bright red as Kacey laughs and you rub your face in your hands. Her accusations aren’t wrong, but telling her would mean telling them that Grayson was the one haunting you while you laid awake, chasing sleep but his body, his hands, his everything wouldn’t leave you alone until you did something about it.

“Oh my god, is it the feelings glow? Do you like the guy?” Kacey continues to laugh, wiggling her eyebrows as you make a face of disgust.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to date anyone right now, and I don’t know anyone who I’d be willing to give up my single life for. Ethan,” you turn to him pointing your fork at him. “Good luck, she’s fucking crazy today.” You stand, grabbing your plate and walking towards your room. “Now I need to get ready, so stop talking about my fucking glow that doesn’t exist.”

The couple wait a few moments to hear your music blasting before Kacey turned to Ethan.

“God, she’s got it for someone. Think it’s the guy from the bar?” She wonders aloud, watching Ethan inhale what’s left of the french toast he served himself.

He shrugs. “Dunno. What exactly is the ‘new dick glow’?”

“It’s when a girl starts getting dicked down, but like actually dicked down, not just by a guy who has a ten second stroke game. Whoever the guy is definitely fucked her right, because Y/N never gets the new dick glow. She hasn’t made a joke about guys not knowing where the clit is for almost three weeks, which might be a record.”

Ethan scoffs, looking down the hall and then back at Kacey. “I know where the clit is.”

Kacey laughs, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I know, baby. That’s why I’m dating you. You gave me the new dick glow.”

He smirks, crossing his arm over his chest. “Fuck yeah I did.”

“But that’s why I wanna know who it is, because Y/N deserves to be happy with someone who makes her happy. The only reason she got defensive was because I’m right.”

Ethan nods in agreement, thinking to himself for a moment.

“Is there a guy equivalent to the new dick glow?”

“Well, any guy who likes dick can get the new dick glow.”

“No, I mean like would I have gotten a new pussy glow when we started fucking?”

Kacey sits back in her chair, running her tongue over her teeth as she thinks before shrugging. “I mean I guess. Any pussy to a guy is good pussy for the most part, though. It’d have to be a girl they’re really into to get a glow.”

Ethan hums, clearly lost in his thoughts. Kacey raises her brow, sitting up to grab her fork. “Why, do you think you got the glow when we started seeing each other?”

“Oh 100%,” he nods, resting his elbow on the table to put his head in his hand while he looks over at her. “But that doesn’t surprise me. I just think Grayson might have the new pussy glow.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Ethan nods, now even more confident in his conclusion. “He’s just been more energetic than normal, and he hasn’t mentioned how desperately single he is since our beach weekend.”

“Who’s he been seeing?”

“That’s the thing,” he huffs, the frustration clearly starting to build as he racks his brain to put the puzzle pieces together without success. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone new, and when he’s talking to his new soulmate of the month he doesn’t shut the fuck up about her before he even knows her last name. But none of them have ever given him the pussy glow, not like this.”

“Wow, the odds Y/N and Grayson get the glow at the same time? Maybe they’ll finally be able to stand one another,” Kacey jokes.

“What if they’re fucking each other and that’s why they’ve got the glow?” Ethan laughs, shaking his head before continuing to eat.

Kacey laughs with him at first, but then her face falls when she thinks about it.

“You said Gray stopped complaining about being single after the beach weekend?”

Ethan nods, looking at her confused.

“That’s when Y/N stopped with the hating all men jokes.”

They both sit there for a moment, watching each other.

“Nah, there’s no way. Grayson can barely stand to be around Y/N for five minutes. There’s no way she could give him the glow,” Ethan speaks up first, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Kacey sighs, a slight frown forming on her lips. “You’re right. Would kinda be the perfect love story, though.”

***

2:53 am.

That’s the time your phone says it is.

And somehow you’re wide awake, Grayson haunting your thoughts.

You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion or the way he seems to consume every part of your mind and body that has you opening your messages with him. There’s only a handful of texts there, all of them short. Your last conversation with him was from when you were out with your friends, but Kacey and Ethan had too much fun too fast. They needed to get home, and being the best best friend, you willingly put your ego on the line by texting Grayson to come get them.

fine.

That one word was staring at you, mocking you almost from the screen, knowing that despite how much love Grayson has for his brother, he was still barely willing to do what you asked just due to the fact it was coming from you. It made a small pang of sadness shoot through you, but it was quickly overpowered by anger, and that anger was only heightened by the fact that his snappy attitude and the way he was able to get such a rise out of you made you so fucking wet.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you see the three dots pop up on the screen in front of you for a few seconds before they disappear. You hold your breath, unable to move from the anxiety of being caught staring at these messages looming over you for no reason. It was probably him trying to reach someone else and he didn’t realize he was typing to you.

But then they pop up again, and for almost a full minute before they went away again.

You lay there, waiting to see if he’ll actually say anything to you, but the three dots don’t come back. The time at the top of your screen says 3:01, and you can’t believe he’d even be up right now. Hell, someone probably had his phone and was trying to text you as a prank or something.

But fuck it. You wanted dick, his dick.

you up

You press send before you can think too hard about it, knowing if you let one brain cell evaluate your decision, you wouldn’t have done it.

As you read the message back to yourself, you see why. What kind of douche ass shit was that? That’s something you’d expect Grayson to send you, not the other way around. What were you going to say after he responds? If he responds. What would you say the next time you saw him if this didn’t go as planned? What even was the fucking plan?

As you continue to spiral, your phone dings and lights up in your face, his name popping up.

what do you want

You purse your lips together, surprised by his response. First, the fact he responded and also by the fact he didn’t totally dismiss you either.

But how the fuck do you respond to that?

You decide honesty is the best policy, and at this point there isn’t anything you could do too make things worse than they are because they are already so fucking bad.

thinking about your dick

Shit. You can practically feel his ego growing from your comfortable position under your sheets, even though he lives almost a half hour away. Maybe you should start consulting your brain cells after all.

did you just fucking booty call me 😂

Great. Just more fuel for him to add to the fire.

no. it was a text and i didnt ask you to come over.

thats a shame

You sit there dumbfounded, his response confusing you even more than every feeling he stirs up inside of you. Did he want to come over? Was he thinking about fucking you? Did he actually mean to try and text you before and pussy out?

Ethan and Kacey were at the guys’ house, leaving you alone in the apartment. Realistically, you could totally have him over for a quick fuck without them noticing, as long as he snuck out and back in without waking either of them up. Did you trust him to be able to do that? No. Did you care about that more than getting fucked?

guess im going to bed

A double text from the Grayson Dolan himself. Maybe you weren’t the only desperate one here.

what would you do if you werent going to bed rn

if it were up to me id come fuck you

gonna unlock my door. don’t let k or e hear

You throw your phone face down on the bed as you get up, slight panic running through you. This could quite literally be the dumbest thing you’ve done in a long ass time, and especially sober.

But there’s no time to harp on that, preparing for Grayson’s possible arrival taking the cake. So you get up, moving to the front door and unlocking it before rushing back to your room to get ready. You do what you can to freshen up, changing into just an oversized shirt for easy access, and cleaning up the room, doing what you can to make it as nice as possible. He’d never been there before, and you had no interest in him picking apart anything before getting to what you really want.

Just as you’re fluffing your pillows, you hear the front door open and shut. Butterflies explode in your stomach, nerves you’d been ignoring unable to hide deep within you anymore as you anticipate finally seeing him after what felt like so long.

You check the time on your phone. 3:33. Only a few minutes earlier than you thought he would get here.

You turn as soon as you hear your bedroom door opening. His wide shoulders take up the majority of your doorframe, his white shirt tight across his chest, and his casual stance making you practically drool. And you let yourself enjoy, taking in his athletic shorts that show he is definitely not wearing anything underneath and he is also definitely excited to be there.

He chuckles, crossing his hands over his chest. “Did you tell me to come here just to check me out?”

The minute you hear his voice, your eyes quickly meet his, and his gaze seems to be burning into you.

“Dunno. Do you know how to do anything besides stand there and look pretty?”

He rolls his eyes, making his way into the room and kicking his sneakers off as he gets closer to you. “You and I both know I can do a lot more than that.”

“You’re gonna have to remind me, then,” you hum, a smirk on your face as he finally grips your waist, pushing you gently against the bed so that you have to sit in front of him.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

Your hands come to rest on his biceps as he grabs your chin to lean down and kiss you. His lips are soft against yours, moving slower than you expected. The kiss is sensual, slow and hot as he makes sure you can feel every part of his mouth on yours. You bring a hand to his wrist, the sensation of finally having his lips on yours making your head spin. You’d missed it more than you’d like to admit.

He begins pushing your body down so you’re lying on your back, your shirt riding up your thighs and exposing the warm skin there. He rests his free hand by the side of your head to lean his body over yours, his knees resting on the edge of the bed in between your legs. You could feel his hard dick against your abdomen and you moan against his lips just at the thought of finally having him again.

He pulls away from your mouth for a moment, both of your breathing a bit more ragged than before as you look into each other's eyes for what feels like the first time. It’s pretty dark in your room, the lamp in the corner the only source of light, but you can still see all the different colors and emotions that seem to be dancing behind his irises.

You lick your lips and pull on his wrist to bring his face back to yours and he seems to hesitate for a moment before conceding, meeting your lips with his again for a moment before dragging them down to your chin. His kisses along the skin there are lighter and quicker, until he is finally trailing them down your neck and finding the spot there that makes you gasp.

He pays attention to this spot, kissing and sucking until you’re sure there’s a bruise there, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

While he focuses on your neck, he lets go of your chin to drag his hand leisurely down your body and to the hem of your shirt. His fingertips dance along the skin just below it, and you feel the goosebumps quickly forming in a trail behind them. He pushes the shirt up slowly, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your skin that hadn’t left his mind since the last time he had been able to touch it.

He grabs the collar of your shirt from the inside, his forearm pushing the fabric up to completely expose your body while also showing some new skin where your neck meets your chest. He lets his lips drag down there, and you let out a breathy sigh of contentment.

“So soft for me,” he mumbles, and you melt into the way his tongue feels against your skin, his hand moving from your collar to your chest and allowing his finger to brush over your nipple

“Grayson,” you mumble, eyes closed as you enjoy his soft touches, but the warmth coming from them is overwhelming. It was caring, gentle, even nice. That’s not what you need from him, though. Not when you’ve already been so confused.

“Hm?” He hums against your skin, licking over the dark spot there.

“Gonna put a pep in your step or what? Thought you came here to fuck me.”

He lifts his head at that, his eyebrows quirked as he looks at you confused. “No build up allowed?”

You huff, assuming he’s only acting this way to get a rise out of you. He wants to hear how ready you are from him, and at this point you don’t care because you want to get your shit rocked.

“I don’t need the buildup, that’s some romantic ass shit. You’d know I’m wet as shit if you touched me where I know you want to.”

You swear you saw disappointment rush over his features for a split second before they harden, his jaw tightening.

“I wasn’t being romantic, I was just doing what I always fucking do!” He stands from above you, backing away as he rests his hands on his hips.

You sigh before sitting up, assuming he’s just throwing a fit and will get over himself to finally do what you’ve both been anticipating.

“That was some soft shit, Gray. Last time you literally told me all the things you hate about me.”

He groans and mumbles under his breath as he closes his eyes to collect himself. You lean back on your hands, amusedly watching him try not to completely lose his shit.

“Do you always have to be such a fucking bitch?”

His words make the smirk fall from your face, and they cut way deeper than you’d expect. You can see from the look on his face that he’s not teasing you, he really meant what he said. You’re not sure if he expected an answer, but before you can think of anything rational, your anger takes over.

“I’d rather be a bitch than a fucking idiot?”

“Oh, so caring about people makes me a fucking idiot?” Grayson’s teeth clench, his skin still red as his fingernails dig into his palms.

“No, caring about you would make me an idiot,” you do your best to be as nonemotional as possible, pushing the anger that is aiming to match his down while ignoring the implication that he cares about you. Of course, anger is a secondary emotion, and the fear of actually caring for someone you’re supposed to hate is what’s triggered your fight or flight, but that’s something for you to work on alone. Or in therapy. But not with Grayson.

He scoffs. “You know what Y/N? Fuck you.”

He walks around the room, gathering the few things he brought with him before slamming your bedroom door.

You let all of the emotional baggage of the past ten minutes take over, tears quickly filling your eyes as you mumble, “fuck you too.”

Read part 3 here!

#Grayson dolan #Grayson Dolan blurb #Grayson Dolan concept #Grayson Dolan imagine #Grayson Dolan fanfic #Grayson Dolan fanfiction #Grayson Dolan smut #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfiction #dolan twins smut

576 notes · View notes

imaginexmeintheuniverse · 5 years ago

Text

Resurgence

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: ANGST

A/N: okay so damn this has been in my wips for so long because i got a burst of inspo one day and i kept waiting to be in just the right groove to finish it and i finally did and holy cow so much angst... im thinking of doing a part 2 just to give a full resolution??? But idk let me know what you think!

The war has been over for a little over two years now. You've lost friends and family, but so has he— Draco Malfoy, that is.

You haven't seen him in person since the battle of Hogwarts. You didn't care to keep up with any gossip amongst peers and press either, preferring to spend your time grieving for your lost loved ones and trying to move forward. As much as you didn't care too much about keeping up with current affairs, whispers and hushed words about the platinum-haired heir found their way to you ears anyways.

Draco Malfoy, the boy who thought he had no choice— a title that would follow him for the rest of his life. Because the family defected, none of the Malfoys faced any charges. However, the Malfoy boy searches for a new home; a new life. One where he can rebuild himself and make his own choices.

The day he disappeared through the crowd of wizards cloaked in black, the day you lost so many friends and family, was the day you resolved to focus on being in the present and grieving what you lost, instead of torturing over what could have been.

You feel that right now, as you stroll down a rainy Diagon Alley after some errands and taking a small detour to check up on George. You could simply disapparate to avoid the increasing precipitation, but there's something about today that makes you want to take in every bit of mundane magic— without literal magic.

You had woken up to the sun shining through your windows making your sheets all bright and warm, an owl delivered a letter from each of your best friends, George actually smiled like he was getting back to managing mischief, and each drop of rain that falls on your skin is a reminder that you're alive— and you're happy to take it all in. Today is the first day since the war that you feel like everything is real and everything is going to be okay.

That is until you see something— err someone that makes you stop in your tracks and question if he's real. You almost drop your shopping bags in the puddle you're standing in. The fact that you're staring at him like a deer in headlights, or that the rain is soaking through your every layer of clothing, both become after thoughts as your eyes lock with his. You blink a few times, not knowing whether to trust your eyes.

It can't be.

The same face you've only seen in papers for the last year, stands a few meters in front of you, shielded from the down pour under a black umbrella that matches his usual perfectly pressed suit. He gives you a curt nod, but you stay frozen, taking in every detail of his being. His overall look is as put together as ever, but the dark rings under his eyes and the silver pools of his irises that seem to only contain the remains of shed tears, would tell a different story.

You feel as though someone has nailed your feet to the ground when he starts walking towards you. His pace slows the closer he gets until he comes to a stop a few steps from where you stand.

"Good evening, Y/N," His tone is formal, but it falters slightly with a tinge of discomfort.

You remain unresponsive, letting your eyes bore through him as he feels his breath shorten at the possibility that you can see right through him, and you always have.

"O-Oh, r-right, if I may—" He takes a step into your personal space to offer you coverage under his umbrella, but you flinch backwards, opting to stay in the cold showers. It's the only thing that feels real right now. Looking to the ground, he takes a deep breath, swallowing down whatever it is that seems to be inhibiting him. His eyes make their way back up to yours and you see pain. "Y/N, I would like to apologize- I-I'm sorry- f-for everything—"

"Oh, you're sorry?!" you cry out, your voice full of very real anger that covers up all the very real hurt inside you. After all these years of waiting for him to show some real emotion— you were rooting for him, hoping he would prove everyone wrong and show that he isn't just some cold-hearted snake, and you wanted nothing more than for him to acknowledge and apologize for all the shitty things he's done. Yet here he is, at your mercy, doing just that and it's not enough. "You can't honestly think that saying 'I'm sorry' will suddenly fix everything that's happened— everything you've done!"

Your sudden outburst startles him, and his eyes widen from the shock, but he's not surprised. He wants to make amends, but he also wasn't going into this expecting anything.

"I understand," he mumbles, keeping his head low.

For moment, the sound of raindrops falling on the cobblestone and pattering on the rooves is all that can be heard. To Draco, it's deafening, and not knowing what else to say or do, he gives you another curt nod before turning to leave.

"You coward!" You call after him, your feet never moving. He stops cold in his tracks and flinches as your familiar words sting him just as they did the last time you saw him. "Why do you always- fuck- wh-why don't you just stay and fight for once in your life?!"

You don't even know exactly what you mean by that in your conscious mind, or what you're really asking of him, although a part of you, deep down, must know. "All those years, you've hidden behind your father and that shite personality of yours- you-you have a choice- y-you always have a choice- w-why didn't you—" Your words become less and less articulate as your emotions completely take over and your left stumbling in your words. The rain might mask the tears you feel burn your cheeks in contrast to the cold droplets, but they can be heard clearly in every break in your voice. It isn't fair. "All those years— all those fucking years!"

His head turns first, locking eyes with you once again, before the rest of his body follows. He sees that same fire that's always been present in your eyes. He's always found it to be terrifying, but also incredibly beautiful.

"All those years," he repeats, starting in a small voice, gradually growing in volume as he steps closer to you. "I know I'm the biggest idiot on the face of the planet! You gave me endless chances to do better and I took you for granted, and I'm sorry- I'm so sorry for that—" He knows he deserves every harsh truth you just spat at him. You were always secretly there to support him, despite how terribly he always treated you and everyone you love— you tried to help him and what did he do in return? You've never backed down from him— or anything from that matter and it's something he both admires and envies deeply. How is he supposed to tell you all that now without sounding pathetic? "If there's anything I regret most in my life—"

His whole body comes to a stuttering stop only a step away from yours. Either of you could close the gap with a single stride, and yet, there seems to be an invisible barrier between the two of that always seems to appear the second you become too close.

Draco Malfoy hangs his head once again as he realizes that brave words weren't meant to come from his mouth. You continue to watch as platinum strands fall over his forhead to shield the weakness in his eyes. The barrier only seems to grow thicker as your owns words get caught in your throat and the two of you just stay there.

If anyone were around to witness this scene it would seem cinematic; almost romantic. A tall handsome man and his beloved caught in the rain who could take one step into the shelter of his umbrella. The warm light from the lamposts and shops reflects off of every wet surface creates a glowing atmosphere. A perfect reunion scene that would be. But that's not the case.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #hp #hp imagine #draco malfoy drabble #drabble #potatowrites #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter fic #hp fanfic

102 notes · View notes

inknose · 5 years ago

Text

mdzs read diary part IV, the end

It’s inspiring how much self care wwx is gonna finally get now that his husband will go along with whatever he does, so he’s gotta look out for lwj’s well being if not his own. that is emphatically the STUFF

dragging my hands down I face as I read this, after all these chapters of getting up close and personal with ghouls bleeding from every orifice, slaying ancient beasts, rebelling against the entire cultivation world, the two of them are absolutely paralyzed by middle school crush sleepover math

chicken

he actually drew kissy doodles .... he....

IDK I THINK I JUST DOCUMENTED THIS PART CUZ I WAS STILL SCREAMING you cant expect me to have very useful things to say at this point

this is torture you are both so mushy you are so GONE

This part really stood out to me, it’s an attitude I feel like wwx implies with his inner narration a few times but most clearly says here: he’s not one for allowing himself to exaggerate how bad his circumstances are/could be even a little bit - he’s already lived through some extreme low points and found a way to keep going, so he never makes sweeping statements about what he couldn’t live without (Inner JingYi: you’re supposed to say you’d be lost without him here!!!) Instead he seems to accept as a given that being alive doesn’t guarantee him any pleasantness or joy at all, and as a result his feelings toward being in TRUE LOVE are surprisingly pragmatic, but also colored with such gratitude. There are a lot of things in the novel that struck me, like this, as being just a little to the left of familiar tropes/sentiments, and were more touching for it. Whether it be the influence of culture difference as opposed to what I’m used to reading in most western romance stories, or MXTX’s unique outlook, or a combination of both, it was really refreshing and made me pause over it. Not “I can’t imagine living without you” but “I could be living without you, but instead I get to be with you and I think that’s the best thing that could happen.”

ADJFDKFJ THE UST BEING SO STRONG THAT EVEN THE VILLAIN COMMENTS ON IT IN THE MIDDLE OF EXECUTING HIS EVIL PLANS IS ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME LAUGH MY ASS OFF. hes like god damn! here I thought I had problems

it was at this moment that I realized we were doing this Now... I’m still recovering. What a scene. I am so glad I saw the most incredible fanart soon afterwards, bc the fact that someone has already drawn a perfect comic of this part means I don’t have to

I love you so much, you are so annoying, you are perfect... I like how he’s been experiencing openly requited love for all of ten minutes but he’s already figured out how to weaponize it to piss people off

doing!!! his!!! job!!!!!

ahh... it’s a really good story. JGY is a great character. One of the most interesting differences for me between drama watching vs. novel reading experience is that without an actor to bat his vulnerable doe eyes at you and smile faintly with his cute dimples, the book does not go much out of its way to try to lull the reader into a false sense of security around him or *endear* him to you the way the show does. But just by seeing events through wei wuxian’s POV, its still enough to evoke pity or understanding towards him. The overall impression is a bit more detached though, there’s less emphasis on the spectacle of how he could manipulate everyone closest to him and more of a general feeling of resigned tragedy that everyones the worst on this bitch of an earth.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU FOR EVEN ONE MORE SECOND!!!!

I clearly paused to take note of less and less parts at the end & the extras due to: a) too excited to reach the end b) too spicy to photograph and c) too sleepy cuz I kept reading in the middle of the night. but I absolutely took the time for Bro We Are Teens appreciation corner:

I’d absolutely read 40 more extra chapters of their monster-of-the-week field trip antics.

god... poor Jin Ling now basically has to deal with divorced parents that talk shit about each other to him whenever he is saying with one of them. except they are both his uncles. just a disasterhood of all uncles from start to finish. AUUUGH wei wuxian and jiang cheng have fucked me up completely, I dream of them reconciling but I also REFUSE to believe it would ever be easy. let me know if theres a fanfic that absolutely tortures you for decades before they hug

HAHAHA oh no this man ain’t making it to immortality thats for damn sure. HE’S JUST GONNA TRY AS HARD AS HE CAN HIS WHOLE LIFE NOT TO LOOK AT HIM BUT THEYRE *MARRIED* SDLKFJSF ohhhh it’s too funny, like... the mundane domestic family drama IN the fantastical swords and sorcery setting is what really ratchets up these things from amusing to fucking hilarious I think

aaaa the end... final random thoughts? No not final, I would like to please keep discussing at length and exhaustively, all the time please - CQL has gotta be one of the best TV adaptations I’ve seen. ANY adaptation of anything would be lucky to be so good!! reading the novel has just made me appreciate it even more.

- I don’t think I can do justice to what I find most fascinating about comparing the two versions briefly, to do that I need to get drunk and ramble at my friends for hours but... the condensed version is something like this. Really all the significant differences between the two versions (besides the ones which can be attributed to censorship and therefore aren’t worth discussing) are a side effect of the structure of how the story is told - there’s barely anything changed arbitrarily. Aside from having a cold opening, the drama sticks to a very linear version of the story, and I think for a TV show or film, that’s probably the best way to do it. We see everything, we get shocked and tricked and betrayed and surprised along with the characters, we feel the biggest impact at the climactic scenes having experienced all the build-up. The novel on the other hand is not only much more non-linear in WHEN we learn bits and pieces of information, but that information is also obfuscated under wei wuxian’s multiple layers of Unreliable Narratoritis, which are as follows: 1) difficulty remembering things because of personality/avoiding painful memories/actual memory loss, 2) No Homo Goggles still on, and 3) a wry sense of humor that makes the reader unsure of how much they can trust his attitude toward things, especially near the beginning. The experience of reading is a puzzle the reader has to mentally piece together through all of the above listed camouflage, and the puzzle itself is a three-sided mystery: One - How Bad of a guy was Wei WuXian really, and how exactly did all the bad stuff in his life go down; Two - wangxian epic pride & prejudice gambits; Three - political murder mystery. (I love stories like this btw... though I fully admit I’m glad I watched first this time bc it might have taken me a long time to tackle otherwise.) Because of this, where the drama wants to pull you in and submerge you in all the most potent emotional parts, the novel in direct contrast deliberately side-steps around these things and asks that you hurt yourself by filling in the blanks. In fact the more intense emotions and painful memories involved, whether it be his relationship with jiang yanli, his DEATH, the darkest days of war times etc, the more the novel evasively withholds details. I actually really like both styles of storytelling but each one is obviously way better suited to its medium. ANYWAY.... THATS BASICALLY WHERE MY BRAINS AT WHILE IM READING GAY SWORD WIZARD BOOKS

- The extras are so saturated with domestic married bliss that it’s a good thing I stopped taking pictures because I’d just take a picture of every page. this is too much for me to take... I did jump the gun a few times and read a few fanfics while I was still mid-read of the book (I tried to hold out but alas I am mortal) and at one point after finishing I was like “wow what fic was it in where lwj says something cute and wwx kisses him in public but they’re in the corner of the restaurant so no one really sees... OH NO WAIT that was actually in there.” and ... and that’s the LEAST OF IT... *stares into the distance* theyre married wow

- I ofc couldn’t help but see a few vague blogs beforehand so honestly I was braced for something like, wildly ooc for the sake of porn to happen in the extras... I definitely appreciate how the incense burner porn interludes could be uhhh a lot for many people and not my personal cup of tea in terms of smut however [here follows the words of a poisonous frog who has dwelt her whole life in the rainforests of BL] the concept is also surprisingly SWEET SDFLKJF like wwx sees lan wangji’s darkest mixed-up violent teenage fantasies and he’s just like aww babe you had a crush on me!! just... good for them

- I swear I’m not gonna rehash every cute married thing they do but wei wuxian grading papers in the tub........................rEALLY GOT ME

- I want to Draw - ok thats enough if I keep going I’ll just write “wei wuxian grading papers in the tub” seven more times probably

#mdzs readthru #this obviously has many spoilers

26 notes · View notes

tokkitchen · 5 years ago

Text

[ kim doyoung, 25 ] did you hear? there’s a new addition to the hypehens family! [ tokkitchen ] was starting to get known for [ cooking/baking tutorials & challenges ] and i think they will hit it big this time around as a part of the [ kimcheese ] squad at hypehens. [ shin sunwoo ] is known to be [ cheeky ] and enjoys [ farming simulation rpgs ]. with their vibes of [ flour stained cheeks and freshly baked bread ] and a style that is unique, i think they are going to take the internet by storm!

hi there! this took me a hot minute, but i’ve finally got sunwoo’s page up and running! you can find the basics & background about him there. tl;dr he loves the culinary arts and overall is a genuine but playful person. for the love of god do not call him a flirt or be passive aggressive with him unless you wanna start some drama which i am 100% down for. you can im me on tumblr or discord (kupo#6438, my dp is a pikachu) if you’re down to plot!

please note that any gif icons posted here and in future posts were made by yours truly.

here are sunwoo’s basics & background copied and pasted from my pages for your convenience.

Basic Information

⥼ Full Name: Shin Sunwoo ⥼ Pronouns: He/Them ⥼ Gender: Cismale ⥼ Birthday: February 1, 1996 ⥼ Age: 25 ⥼ Orientation: Bisexual ⥼ Relationship status: Single ⥼ Occupation: Creator & host of Tokkitchen ⥼ Residence: Seoul, South Korea

Physical Appearance

⥼ Faceclaim: Doyoung of NCT 127 ⥼ Hair: Black, medium length tapered short at the sides and the back, fringe clipped neatly but softly resting just below his eyebrows ⥼ Eyes: Walnut brown ⥼ Height: February 1, 1996 ⥼ Age: 25 ⥼ Height: 179 cm (5'10") ⥼ Build: Slim, very little muscle definition ⥼ Piercings: Ear lobes ⥼ Tattoos: None… yet ⥼ Clothing style: Overall casual to semi-casual and simple, prefers loose fits for pieces like sweaters, hoodies, and t-shirts, prefers fitted for pieces like denim jackets, varsity jackets, jeans, chinos, and sweatpants

Personality

⥼ Positive Traits: Warm, perceptive, playful ⥼ Negative Traits: Blunt, resentful, opinionated If you were to ask someone what Sunwoo’s most remarkable characteristic is, they would most likely mention how he treats everyone he meets like they’re an old friend. To some, that can be comforting, his easy smiles and laughs providing them a sense of security and acceptance. To others, that can be irritating: a stranger acting much too presumptuous and all too familiar for comfort. While Sunwoo does his best to be tactful and mindful of others, it’s undeniable that his personality doesn’t always mesh well with others. Sunwoo is not afraid to speak his mind whenever he finds it appropriate and necessary. He highly values improvement for himself and his loved ones. As such, he is the first to call out his friends on their bullshit, in the most loving way possible of course, seeing it as an opportunity for growth. Though he tries to choose his words as carefully as possible and his intentions are never ill, he can sometimes come off as a overly blunt, and in worst case scenarios, harsh. In that same vein, Sunwoo never hesitates in building people up and often goes out of his way to compliment them, whether that be on their work or even on their looks, gaining him the reputation of a bit of a flirt. This is completely unintentional, as he’s not exactly aware of the way he holds eye contact with people a little longer than average, or the way his genuine tone of voice can slip into something more suggestive. He gets pretty offended if you accuse him of being a flirt and doesn’t really understand why he’s seen that way. He is an extremely genuine person, despite how he may come off. He always says what he means and hopes that other people will do the same for him. Consequently, he greatly dislikes people who are passive aggressive, finding it a waste of everyone’s time to fish out exactly what they mean.

Childhood

Sunwoo was born two years after his older brother, Shinwoo. His parents both worked at well known companies and earned good money, affording them an upper middle class lifestyle, but as a result were rarely ever home. Sunwoo did his best not to take their money for granted, understanding even at a young age just how much they had to break their backs to earn it.

Adolescence

His older brother excelled in school, earning straight A’s and getting into the first college of his choice. Sunwoo, on the other hand, was just a little above average and often felt overshadowed by his brother’s performance. This subsconsciously affected his work ethic. There would be times, for example, when he would just give up studying for an exam because he knew he wouldn’t be able to achieve the grade he wanted—that is, one that was comparable to his brother’s. Once he was old enough, Sunwoo got a job at local convenience store so he could earn his own spending money without bothering his parents. There, he regained some of his confidence and came to realize that his strengths lay outside of a rigorous school system. Still, he completed high school and decided to go to college, majoring in Business.

Tokkitchen

Sick of eating instant ramyeon for the fifth time that week, Sunwoo put aside his textbook and decided to look up simple dishes to cook. He fell into the metaphorical rabbit hole and found himself watching cooking videos for a few hours, landing on a few recipes that seemed simple enough to try. The next day, he went out to buy the necessary groceries and began cooking. His dish was… okay. It wasn’t completely awful, but it wasn’t spectacular either. Strangely enough, he wasn’t discouraged and vowed to try again the next day since he had leftover ingredients. The next day came, and this time the dish was light years better than before. Pleased with the results, Sunwoo continued to watch cooking videos online and improved his skills little by little. When he was able to perfect a pasta recipe, he invited his friends over to his apartment so that he could cook dinner for them—they would be his “first set of guinea pigs” as he put it. They were goofing around, and one of his friends took out their phone to record Sunwoo cooking. He began mimicking the narrative style of the numerous videos he watched, explaining what he was doing in an exaggerated soothing tone. It was one of the most fun nights he’s ever had. His friend sent him the video a few days later. Sunwoo watched it, cringing at the sound of his voice, but recalled how much fun he had filming it. He immediately began searching his college’s website for rentable video equipment, determined to make a cooking video, but for real this time. After transferring and editing his very first video—"gourmet" meals using convenience store ingredients—onto his bulky, old laptop, he uploaded it to the internet under the username Tokkitchen, a reference to his apparently notorious resemblance to a rabbit. This was mostly for safekeeping—he knew his laptop was on its last legs and he only had so much hard drive space after all—but he also secretly hoped that maybe he would be able to capture a small audience. Sunwoo enjoyed making these videos so much that he went as far as changing his major to Film (his college did not offer a Culinary Arts major.) His technique and style improved significantly, and his viewer count steadily grew. It wasn’t nearly enough to justify doing it full time though, so after he graduated, he began the dreaded job search.

Present

After a year and a half of uploading videos, and just a month into the job search, Tokkitchen was suddenly an overnight success thanks to a video he had certainly not expected to be his claim to fame. It was one of his more casual videos: a half vlog, half cooking tutorial of caramel flan. Commenters seemed particularly delighted by his inclusion of footage of his three failed attempts at not burning the caramel and the resulting existential breakdown he had following them. He continued this model for his next video, and the next video, and the next video, and his channel views continued to grow exponentially. He has been praised by viewers for his down to earth personality and warm, atmospheric style.

#hype!intro

3 notes · View notes

alicezan-ncgred · 6 years ago

Text

Bleeding Red

Preface: I’ve been bitching around the bush of this long enough. So, I’ve been really silent on a bunch of stuff that’s been eating me alive which has made me both inactive and unproductive. I’m going to get straight to the point, starting off with the TL:DR from my post on my main blog. Context: An anon asked me if I was alright because I hadn’t updated in a while.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

Time for the thick and thin of it.

Insecurity and being shafted: I’m stoic, even at my worst I won’t say anything. I’ll push through regardless of my current condition and since I’ve gone years like this, it’s not hard for me to do. In my real life situation, I’m currently in a place of social isolation. This has lead to a somewhat near reliance on Tumblr to be my social outlet. This present many issues.

The main one is that I’m quite the isolationist. This has only been reinforced by many interactions throughout the entirely of my life. Because of this, I can’t say I’ve ever had anything really more than two friends at a time. While in a way this has helped me express myself so well through writing, it’s come at the cost of social skill. I don’t talk to anyone.

With this kind of issue you could easily imagine that the THREE PEOPLE (four now, but very limited) to ever directly talk ended up in a way shafting me. The first blocked and disconnected with me without warning or reason. At this point we’ve been talking to each for about a month and we hit it off very well and then one day, silence. Never heard from them again. That fucked me up hard when I finally realized what happened.

The second person left during the Tumblr P**n Purge. We were talking about how to contact each other on other platforms and then they stopped responding. I had already given contact to other platforms of which they pinged me in any way. Another person that I trusted massively on here just abandoned me and I’m still hurting from that. Wasn’t fair at all.

Then the third person was someone that I been following for a while. This person is actually the reason that I’ve been putting this off for so long. I don’t want them to see this post but they will. I got an ask from them that ultimately turned out to be misinformation. I said I wasn’t mad but I was. I was so fucking angry about it and I’m still kinda mad, but I didn’t want problems. I still don’t. I just didn’t want them to worry about it. This will come back later.

I try my best to be as inoffensive as possible. The problem with that is that much of the things I believe or enjoy are highly divisive. Hell, even my own identity can be seen as offence. I’m bisexual, non-binary (I’m currently still questioning this. I might actually be gender fluid but in the overall scheme, that’s worse than being non-binary), and nonreligious. I’m in a very religious area so you I’m still “in the closet” about much of this IRL. I though it would better online but with how much people are saying bisexuality doesn’t exist, or that non-binary isn’t a valid gender (or that being gender fluid make you insane and you should be locked up) and all the hate people who say they are this are getting, the very community that’s supposed to accept me, HATES me. I had a bi pride flag icon last year during Pride Month. I never doing that ever again. It was terrible.

I’m trying my best to come out of my shell like I said I would when I made this blog but it seems I’m just crawling further into it. People I think I can trust keep setting me up to fall, people I know in real life won’t ever accept my existence if they knew who I really was, and my own mental health problem and self loathing are eating me alive. But that isn’t the total of it.

Crumbling Pillar: I’ve always ended up in the position where things were thrown onto me. In which no one wanted to do, I was stuck with. Because of this not only do I have a severe distaste being around my family (beyond everything mentioned before hand) but I grew to have a negative out look on everything. This effect is still quite obvious in my writings, especially my poems. Out of the 14 poems on my poem blog @washed-soul, only one has a happy meaning.

The one happy poem was called dreams. Under a metaphor it talks about how a demon kept me trapped in a dark space. I start to get better and nearly break free before I have a negative relapse back to my old ways. The poems ends with the demon putting a end to itself leaving the nightmare in which it was keeping me in to slowly fade away, letting one crack of light peeking through to become a window to a door until one day I walk free. When writing this poem, I never thought I would find myself rebuilding the nightmare but that’s where I am.

I’m done with holding things together that other people have placed onto me. Because of this, issues have began showing in my private life. Issues that should’ve been solved decades ago are only now being addressed. This change in the status quo of my life has caused many issues in my productive and mood. Between everything else I’m too tired to do anything.

Is that a reason, is that an excuse. No it isn’t but it’s the best thing I got as a reason. I’m doing my damnedest to do the best I can but of course, when it comes to the thing that matter I just fall short. Big fucking whopha my intelligence and capability does me if I can’t use it for anything that means a damn.

Meaningless Triviality: I’m a very emotional person. I’m very strongly bound to my emotions and if everything above hasn’t given it away, my emotions are very negative prone. But it just doesn’t stop there, it goes back into my memories. I can only honestly place 3 happy memories for certain that aren’t either A) a dream or B) me escaping reality through my mind. Besides that, almost all my memories are negative.

People like to throw around the word Nihilist to describe themselves because today's culture is very, god while I hate to use this word, edgy. For those who don’t know a Nihilist is someone who views the world as being completely meaningless and reject all religious and moral principles. I very truly struggle with this outlook of life. It’s a daily for me to berate myself saying “just kill yourself” or “I want to die” or just shutting down and crumpling up while say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. Hell, I did that while writing this.

I take things very hard, even the slightest transgression. I’m so used to trying to make things perfect and because people have the image that I’m the smart one, the mature one, the capable one, I’m left with the over hanging expectation of excellence. Almost no room for margin of error or being human. Since I’m the silent type, I put up no challenge and work to meet it. Only time I get any praise for anything too.

I guess as a little self promotion to my main blog, for those that have read the very first few updates of my main blog @the-truth-behind-redacted, or read Defiance’s character sheet, while The Machine and Defiance are separate character, they both share the name Machine. That in part is a reflect of said above expectation. How ravenous and inhuman it can be all under the guise of something human. Those characters are the two sides to the same coin.

Remember how I said I try to be un-problematical and how I try to avoid any potential conflict. In the first segment I told on how I lied about my feelings just so another person didn’t have to worry over something that honestly, in hindsight, wasn’t even really a big deal. But I also said how it consumed me in anger. I just don’t want to bother anyone over anything. It’s part of the reason why I am writing this post, as some way of a self enforced rehab program to get better.

This absolute consumption of negative emotion has pushed me into a non human state before. I hit a point of absolute mental exhaustion and in such a self enforced bubble of actual hatred I became completely apathetic. I felt numb to everything. I watched and heard of terrible things happening to people, and felt nothing. I watched people lives crumble before them leaving them nowhere to go and LAUGHED. “Just another worthless pathetic worm on this rotting carcass of a planet being hit with the hard reality that life doesn’t care for them. What whimsical pathetic bullshit they deluded themselves with to think otherwise.” This isn’t an exaggeration on how I thought, this is what I actually thought. Which brings me too.

The Mandatory Sob Story: Roll your eyes everyone and get the tiny violin. I guess in order for everyone to exactly understand the place I’m coming from when it comes to mental health I’ll have to detail my experiences. I have a long standing history with mental illness. I have professionally diagnosed OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, and visual and auditory hallucinations. I take 600 mg of Seroquel a day as well as Amitriptyline when needed. I’m also still currently in therapy to deal with said OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, the visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as Suicidal thoughts, and my Nihilism. There’s a reason to why I’m so god damn familiar with mental illness and treatment plans.

OCD and Bipolarism run in my family on my fathers side. My Father’s Father had them, my Sister has them, my brother most likely has them (however he refuses to see a doctor because he uses said possible mental illnesses as a get out of jail free card. He doesn’t want to be treated and he has FUCKING ADMITTED IT), my father has them, and I have them. I, however, have the misfortune of having it real bad. I said yes to well over half of all the total symptoms when I was being tested (I don’t remember exact numbers but I remember there being three pages worth of common symptoms) which was very worrying to the doctor. I was currently in an inpatient hospitalization program at the time for both suicidal thoughts and actions, and severe depression.

On that, my graze in with suicide. Before I went into my first inpatient program I was contemplating suicide. I was sat in front of a mirror with a bottle of over the counter medication. It was an unopened bottle of ibuprofen, 1000 200mg tables. What I planed to do was down the whole bottle with benadryl and die in my sleep. I had the small box of benadryl got from the Kroger pharmacy and a hand full of ibuprofen poured out looking directly into the mirror. My suicide note was sitting on the desk on my room with an online copy on my laptop open.

I sat there for an hour in the dead of midnight complicating my life. I had lost all hope in the world, filled with hatred, anger, pain, and despair. I had no god or after life to look forward too, part way hoping that a Hell existed for me to burn in. I hated myself that much. I was close to taking the first handful before before I caught a glimpse of my own eyes in the mirror. In what was in a weird sudden epiphany I realized that I truly did become what I hated but not for any reason I told myself. I became the very bastion of negativity I sought to fight and rid of in what little friends I did have. That was what set off my path to recovery in spite of the medical system. I guess if people care I’ll make a separate post on that.

Before I move on, I feel I should explain my history with the visual and auditory hallucinations. It should be no surprise that with everything else above, I also had extreme paranoia that led to me having very bad insomnia. Insomnia is, just like most other medical disorders like Depression, Self-harm, Anxiety, OCD, Bipolarism, is romanticized to hell. Insomnia isn’t having one nights bad sleep where you got 5 hours of sleep instead of 8.

You know what Insomnia is? insomnia is being physical incapable of sleeping despite not sleeping in 2 to 3 day while your body suffers massive agony brought on by this. Muscle spasms and seizing, difficulty breathing, your eyes feeling like fire ants are eating them, and of course visual and auditory hallucinations. Now I already had issues with visual and auditory hallucinations even when I could get sleep regularly but the combined effects of my OCD and Bipolarism made this perfect condition of Insomnia, Anxiety, Paranoia, with the already added in disposition to hallucinations and I felt like I was actually losing my mind.

My hallucinations presented themselves in three forms. Disassociation of reality, night terrors, or alterations of reality. Disassociation of reality often were complete black out moments. I would lose any perceived connect to reality and enter an episode of my mind. I can’t remember what they actually were but I do remember what it felt like. Cold sweats, anxiety to point where if I didn’t lock up I would vomit, actual physical pain, mind numbing fear, and intense fatigue.

The second were night terrors often in the form of horrific “things.” I do remember these and most of them were as best as I could describe, forms of things that were vaguely human and formations of industrial machinery. The most vivid one I remember was of a long lengthy apparition that was for the most part human but many locations of it’s impossible physiology were rebar beams and mechanical sockets. It began when I was about to fall asleep and it was next to my window. The thing was making week groaning and gasping sounds before it violently slammed against my window breaking it then letting out a horrific howl that I can’t describe as it tossed itself out followed shorty after with the sound of bones breaking against the dirt.

Now that might not seem so bad, exspecally with everything that is in horror movies or games now, but keep in mind that was fucking real to me. It was as real as the clicking of the keys of my keyboard as I’m writing this. As real as the chair I’m sitting in and as real as the wall in front of me. As far as my mind was concerned that thing, what ever it was, actually existed. It took me physical touching my window to make sure it wasn’t actually broken and checking outside to see if there wasn’t a body there. This isn’t the type of thing I talk about lightly.

Finally there is the alteration of reality. This is very simply but it’s something that fucked with me hard. For very little meaning or warning, I would have trouble interpreting the world around me. My hearing and sight would be warped and there wasn’t any real way to tell what I was hearing or seeing was real or not until the episode was over. The way I got through these was the ultimate fake it till you make it. Obviously, very often I failed and this created issue in my schooling.

Ending Message: I’ve been in a very bad state for a while now and as it is now, no signs of getting better. I also strongly believe my medications are being to fail me which I’ve been telling my doctor and therapist for over a year now but nothing’s been done. Mainly it’s my Depression but insomnia episodes are beginning and my own paranoia been on the rise. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a creepy image or thumbnail without having a very bad episode.

I’ve managed to eat something today which was nice but my body is cramping hard. And to possible stave of a possible comment, I’m biologically male. Like I said I’m not in the best head space, or living for that matter. If this gets better, only time will tell.

#Long post #tw: suicide #TW: Depression #Trigger Warning #TW #OCD #Anxiety #Chronic Depression #Bipolar Disorder #Bipolar #Mental Health #My mental health

7 notes · View notes

brokenhayatim · 4 years ago

Text

two mins forty-three seconds

it’s been so long since i’ve written. i don’t think any of this will make sense.. also my hands are shaking so it’s taking me longer to type.

you ever know something is wrong with you? and like it’s so familiar and you just think ‘it’s happening again’. i’ve felt like that for long but i’ve been managing it pretty well. in the last month or so though, i felt it shift into deeper waters and it’s not like anything in my life has drastically changed like moving back here was. but i just notice my reluctance to start the day, my difficulty to concentrate during it, the nighttime routine of ‘i failed today yes i’m a disappointment’. it’s odd...i feel like i have no control. someone else has taken the clock and is dragging the minute hand to just speed up every second and i can’t think. my thoughts race every second even if im sitting down and next thing i know it’s three hours later and i hate it. i started up running to help my surgery recovery process and even that doesn’t feel like control. this looming surgery date is good and bad. it’s giving me a lot of free time..that i don’t need. i constantly feel like i should be doing something even though i don’t really have a task to take my mind off anything anymore like job searching. it’s almost made me feel useless like i’m a sitting duck. and then i have so much anxiety about my capability to re-enter the job market being out this long, especially after the surgery recovery. i don’t feel like i’m even average anymore like im the bottom of the barrel in terms of skills so i keep trying to stay with them, doing small projects, but it’s not enough.

anyways. i’ve thought about seeing a psychologist and psychiatrist when i first came here, as my prev ones recommended, but with the pandemic i pushed it off and it’s so intimidating trying to find one, now that i’m not given about 6 options like at uni, i’m just supposed to find one now and try 20 questions to see if they’re actually right?? the thought of going through the awkwardness and distance of zoom appointments too, i felt uncomfortable with it even when i knew and liked my doctors. so, i felt like if i told myself i could do it on my own, i could do it on my own. but everyday i have this nagging feeling that i’m just putting pretty icing on a moldy cake, so i deny and avoid that with social media distractions, of course. i have this overall sense of just feeling like shit and the only thing keeping me afloat in the days are people not even around me, people in my phone, especially moments with noor. often, i think of just shutting off my wifi or my phone and ghosting, but it isn’t even fair to them to do that and it never was - without at least forewarning. because tables turned, i worry like hell on top of missing you. so i woke up today feeling at the cusp of a break and was going to send noor a text about it and to just let her know. and although a big part of me wants to just disappear, the other part so attached to people now doesn’t and knows it wouldn’t do me any good but let me wallow in misery (she’s got the self-realization now yall) and what would that help? especially now being at home where i can’t stay in my room for a week and come out like a crab just to eat (just kidding, i do that anyways). i think the gravity of how much i’ve been avoiding and denying that i need to do something was brought to light last when i mentioned to my sister, after i kneeled down for something in pain, that i can’t actually sit on my legs like i can sit 90 degrees only but anything lower and my thighs experience so much pain it’s like my body is screaming not to go lower. i haven’t done the tashahhud position in salah properly for months and i don’t want to sit in a chair because i feel like that’s cheating like i can move just not that position. my neurologist gave meds - which i took for a while but kept forgetting to establish a routine & my dad said i didn’t need them so i questioned it more - and a physical therapy prescription and i’ve done nothing with it. partly due to covid but i also just feel like a burden, that something is actually wrong again. i dont know...as if my brain should be the only thing everyone needs to worry about now. but my parents were talking about how i might need physical therapy after surgery and how they might bring someone in and something about it just makes my skin cold. i don’t think it’s necessarily fully my disdain of depending on someone for my needs but i just have this vision of struggling and having everyone know it. like i won’t be able to do it in private anymore, it’ll all be out for someone to watch and they’ll want to do something to help and they can’t. that goes with any of my surgery recovery - especially the pain and discomfort. okay, i’m getting away from my point now...

i went to sleep quite early last night because of my mood and probably because i slept at 6 am the night before. but i woke up today and was like i feel like shit and this is definitely depression that i’ve had. so i took my phone and searched “psychology before after surgery” (got the point across ok) and god, the results. i don’t know what i was expecting.

“Why Aren’t We Talking About Postoperative Depression?

Depression can occur after even a minor surgery. But doctors have noticed that people who have the following procedures often have depression afterwards: Heart surgery, especially coronary artery bypass graft Plastic surgery Gastric bypass surgery Brain surgery...

The most significant risk factor for postoperative depression is pre surgical depression or anxiety. In fact, anyone with a history of mental illness is at greater risk for postoperative depression.

Possible Causes of Postsurgical Depression: Postsurgical pain Surgical results don't match expectations Problems with anesthesia (i’m using steroids but) A biological process Increased dependence on other people

Disappointment in one’s own body and health can also factor into postoperative depression. People like to see themselves as strong and healthy.”

you get it. immediately, i felt two things: frustration at not even guessing this would be a thing and fear. fear, because i have had thoughts of most of these causes being an issue for me before i even read this. fear, that all the trying i’m doing now to be okay won’t be enough and i genuinely will see my worst days. fear, that i won’t make it. fear, that i’m not strong enough to overcome this if i’m struggling with it badly right now. fear, that i’m not strong enough to recover like i want to. fear, that i made a mistake in choosing to do the surgery being careless enough to not consider this. so much fear my body crumbled under the weight.

of course, it’s treatable. so where does this leave me right now? congratulations! now you’re caught up on why i opened this document and decided to type. based upon reading about my avoidance to fix my issues with the right methods, i think we can guess the solution here. oh look! it’s writing itself into the cloudy sky.

xoxo big brain girl (just not mentally)

done crying now so time to start my day yayy!

#asiya's thoughts #yikes #do i read this for typos

0 notes

voidselfshipp · 4 years ago

Text

The Copper Wars

Chapter 4

Okay to rb!

For once,engenieer was not in his workshop, wich meant that jerico arrived Next.

He grabbed the Copper metal sheets, taking a good look at them,and the rest of the lot.

Would he have enough?.

--Sorry for bein' late--engies voice grabs his attention--Was uh,makin tea, I know ya dont exactly like coffee....

--Aw, thanks engie--jeri grabbed the cup--Well..I guess we should get to bussiness.

And that they did.

They spent most of the day assembling the wiring and the mechanisms,that would impulse the big robot.

When the sun was setting both decided to go Grab dinner.

Jer Ate his food on silence,noticing that spy and sniper werent there.

Well,they did seem more secluded than the others.

He politely said thanks,and washed his used dishes, taking vica,who was sleeping on the couch in his arms, and went to highest floor of the base, a watchtower that had a door leading to the roof.

He sat there, leaning on the handrail of the watchtower, as vica was sitting on his shoulder.

The cat purred and nuzzled his neck, he laughed and scratched under their chin.

--Whats on my mind you ask?--he said,looking up at the Sky--i have everything and nothing at the same time, I guess, these days have been very rough--The cat mewled in response--man, now that I think of it,I havent written to dad in a good while, I should do that...

The cat then jumped to the handrail,somehow balancing theirself while on the thin metal tube, their dark purple eyes met their owners, and licked his hand.

--Youve been very cuddly these days vica,not complaining,but Its weird...--he just shrugged, and looked at the time in his watch--Hmm I guess I can stay like this a bit longer...

He spent the rest of the hour talking back and forth with his familiar,who answred with purss and hisses.

--yo Jerico?,wake up--A voice called his name, jer groaned,and leaned on his side,his Back facing the person that was calling him.

--i told jou zo vake Him up softly

He did recognize that voice, he opened his eyes and yawned,now moving his body to rest on his back, he Turned to see scout and medic--Hey guys...whats up?--his voice sounded raspy and deep, as he rubbed his eyes.

--jou overslept, its almost afternoon

--Man....-- he sat up stretching his body, causing his two companions to blush suddenly--Guess I was tired huh?--he smirked and got out of bed,thankfully he had some shorts on--thanks for waking me up,otherwise id be sleeping till noon

--Uh dont mention it

And with a confused look he saw medic and scout bolt out of his room.

--Weird....

He decided to brush it off and grabbed his things and headed for the shower room.

As the water hits his body,he heard the pure chaos that was going down in the rest of the showers.

He couldnt help but giggle as he washed his hair,softly singing to himself, he dried his hair and body once he was done,and wrapped the towel around his waist.

--Can I know what in the name of god was going on?--he grabbed his shirt and pants while looking at the mirror where some of the guys were shaving or combing their hair.

His eyes met medics, realizing his german friend had some blush on his cheeks.

--scout dropped his soap, pyro zried zo help him by setting said soap on fire,we all had zo stop pyro from doing zhe same vith Scouts deodorant

Jerico started to laugh while heading to the changing room--I wish I could have seen it while it was happening that sure was something

After changing he went to eat a quick lunch and getting to work on Forge.

So,the past few weeks he spent his time working with engie.

None of them,except maybe pyro, would admit it,but jericos presence did really make itself be missed, he had been Cooped up with work,barely even greeting and eating breakfast with them.

Engie assured his team jeri was alright,he was working very hard to finish this proyect.

But eventually,the team went with imaginary pitchforks and torches to engie.

-- "The townsfolk got together and they figured out a plan

They knew they'd have to do their best to save their fellow man--Jerico sung while hanging off a harness,soldering Forges faceplates--

And, though they had no weapons, they all had a lot of brains:

They'd build machines to leave their villain in a world of pain!

So Wilbur brought the copper, old Frank supplied the steel;

Bob and Sue had extra chains, and Tommy brought the wheels;

They knew they'd have a chance with these, they knew they'd win the fight

And they worked all through the night!--engie went up the scaffoldings, the robot was huge,thirty feet off the ground was giving him the chills--So saddle up your steam-bike and put your goggles on

We've got to be prepared or else we'll all be dead by dawn

Copperplate is coming and his eyes are seeing red

And he's after Wilbur's head!--his singing was stopped as engie called his name.

--Hey jerico! The guys really wanna see ya,they Came to me like an angry mob!

Jeri stopped what he was doing,and smiled--aww they miss me?thats adorable!--He answered lifting His soldering goggles-'okay lemme finish this and ill be down there in a bit!

Engie sighed in relief,mostly because he could go back down to the safety of the floor.

Jerico finished his work for the day,and descended to the floor, taking off his Gear covered in Grease.

He Walked to the dinning room where everyone was expecting him.

Yes even spy and sniper.

A Sly smile crossed Jers lips--Well well well, a little birdie told me you guys missed me

--yea and what if we did huh?--scout defensely said.

--Well thats just cute!--blacksmith hugged scout tightly with a huge grin on his face.

The Bostonian boy patted his back,red as all hell.

--Well,im here,actually I might go take a shower,im all sweaty,covered in Grease and just disgusting overall

--Youd make us all a favor-spy commented taking a drag from his ciggarette.

--Yeah youve missed me so dearly spy--jers mocking tone got a small chuckle out of the frenchman.

And without much wait blacksmith headed to the shower.

--Im not sayin anything...but he hugged me first!first!-Jeremy commented,bragging about the fact that well,his crush hugged him.

To no-ones surprise,other than jerico himself who didnt know,the mercs new coworker Turned into their crush.

Some just accepted it,others denied it until jeri errased himself from the face of the earth for a while.

--oh ye?when he comes back ill be the very first to hug 'im!--demo barked Back.

A quick shower later,jer quickly changed, and Walked back to where everyone was.

--And im back hi!--his words were cut by demo hugging him tightly,his cheeks Turned bright Pink, and started to giggle--Hey demo wassup?

--Nothin much--his face turned to scout who was green with envy.

--Would ya look at that,actually smelling like a normal human being--sniper added his snarky comment with a playful intention behind it.

--De orejas habla el burro(about ears spoke the donkey)

Spy and engie smiled smugly,and looked at sniper.

--Wot?--the aussie asked to no-one in particular.

--Jerico said like youre the one to talk,pardner

What followed was the longest 'ohhh' coming from the mercs, except of course spy and sniper),like if they went back to their teen years.

--Okay children,behave--blacksmith added,coming out of the kitchen with his tea Cup.

The Next two hours they all sat and talk peacefully,thats until tiredness for the best of jeri,and he Walked down hes room.

--jerico!wait up!--scout ran behind him--jeesus youre fast--this is the first time jer had seen him actually somewhat exhausted.

--Scout whats up?

--First uh,im Jeremy, second I am just...happy youre back,even if its for a bit, at least....we all have missed you, I...I've missed you--jeremy said, scratching the back of his neck--the room changes completly when youre around and i--, what im trying to say is...

Jers brows furrowed,until he heard his companion mutter a soft 'fuck it' and kissed him briefly.

Before scout can run away he grabs his hand and pulls him in for an actual kiss.

The Bostonian wraps one ar around his waist and the other is used as support as he hovers over his crush.

Jeri hugs his neck, pulling him closer.

--oh thank god--scout whispered hiding his face on the crook of blacksmiths neck.

Jerico caresses his hair and smiles--Im going to have to go okay?

He heard scout grunt but nodding,breaking the hug.

They said their goodbyes and jeri went to sleep.

What a day it was...

#f/o fic #🔥⚒toughesr coppersmith around⚒🔥

0 notes

chokememrstark · 7 years ago

Text

Requiem Of Memories // Part 6

Ship: Samifer (Sam Winchester / Lucifer)

Words: 1931 (Chapter 6 / 15)

Fic Summary: After sleeping for almost a whole day, which was definitely needed, Lucifer has a surprise for Sam. He shows the hunter where they actually are and for the first time, Sam's mood is actually lifted a little.

angst, hurt & comfort, alternative universe, au!lucifer, mourning, depression, blood and gore, nightmares, loneliness

Note: I highly recommend to read Nightmares Become Reality before this, otherwise the premise of the story and the setting might not make much sense.

Tagging: @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @spnyoucantkeepmedown @brieflymaximumprincess @kajuned @archingangel @this-darkness-light @dreamreaded @secretlydaydreaminglifeaway @humongouscandycoffee

If you want off the tag list or want to be added, just drop me an ask or IM!

Read on AO3!

Breaking down in front of Lucifer, again, was nothing Sam was particularly proud of, but the angel reacted way more understanding than he would have expected him to. After he finally managed to dry his eyes and stopped acting like an infant, Lucifer urged Sam to eat the food he had brought. It was delicious, there was no doubt about that and for the first time in weeks, Sam actually ate everything that was on his plate. After his hunger was taken care of and he had embarrassed himself once more, Sam began feeling tired. It was awkward asking Lucifer to stay while he slept, but the other agreed without hesitation and promised him to be quiet.

Sam slept better than he did ever since he had come here with Lucifer, whether it was because of his sumptuous meal or the other’s company Sam didn’t know, but it didn’t matter either. He slept like a stone without being disturbed by nightmares and that was enough for him to be glad about. While he did, Lucifer worked on his desk or read for the most part and overall stayed as quiet as possible so Sam could have the rest he needed. Sometimes he checked up on the hunter to see if he was still sleeping peacefully, before going back to his work.

When Sam woke up he felt as refreshed as possible and his mood was very much improved when he noticed the breakfast waiting for him on the nightstand. Lucifer was there too, sitting in one of the chairs close to the fire and reading a book.

“How long did I sleep?” Sam asked, followed by a long yawn and him stretching his limbs.

“Long enough,” Lucifer answered and closed his book before coming over to him. “It’s morning, but you needed your rest. How do you feel?”

“Much better, thank you,” Sam admitted with a smile, this time not as weak as the night before. “This bed is amazing, I can’t remember sleeping so good before.”

“I’m glad you slept well, there is breakfast and coffee for you and when you are done I would like to show you where we actually are. I assume you are curious about that.”

“Well,” Sam smirked and took the coffee to his nose, breathing in the heavenly scent. “I found out we are in a prison already, but that’s about all I know. I am curious indeed.”

“Good,” Lucifer nodded. “I have to take care of something really quick, you can call me when you are done eating and I will come back.”

“Okay, yeah, sounds good.”

Sam watched Lucifer disappear, torn between amused and confused. He wondered why the angel suddenly wanted to show him where he are, Sam was convinced he could have just looked out of one of the windows to find out for himself. For some reason, this idea wasn’t very appealing for Sam, however, and he decided that he would let Lucifer show him instead and focus on his breakfast now.

The food was surprisingly good, which made Sam wonder who was responsible for the cooking. On the plate were scrambled eggs, french toast and even bacon - not Sam’s usual breakfast back home, but he never ate more eagerly and with more appetite. Whoever made this, they knew what they were doing and Sam found his meal simply delicious. The coffee tasted very good too, turning his first morning with Lucifer into a rather memorable thing.

After he was done, Sam just laid back for a few minutes, letting his body process the food and allowing himself to settle down. He had not lied to the angel, the bed was amazingly comfortable and inviting, he would have stayed in it for much longer if he hadn’t agreed to Lucifer’s plans. Eventually, Sam got up and made his way to the bathroom to make himself look a little presentable and see if the toilet was actually working. It took him about fifteen minutes before he deemed his appearance acceptable, making himself wonder why he put so much effort into this task. He doubted Lucifer would care for the way he looked, but he felt much better like this, so he shrugged it off and got dressed again to call for the other.

“Lucifer? I’m ready.”

It didn’t even take a minute before Sam heard a familiar sound and Lucifer appeared in front of him. Sam gave him an awkward smile when the angel mustered him. Now he felt stupid for spending so much time cleaning himself up and making his messy hair look presentable. Lucifer didn’t give him a rude or sarcastic comment though, as he had half expected. Instead, the blond smiled back contently.

“I hope your breakfast was to your liking. Do you want to go outside now?”

“It was, thank you. I’m ready when you are.”

Lucifer nodded and opened the door he had disappeared through the night before, but this time Sam followed him. It led to a staircase they walked down two stories. Sam had assumed everything outside of this one room was just as decayed as the parts of the prison he had seen, but they were surprisingly tidy and clean looking. But something was very similar to the rooms he had crossed before breaking down - the air was thick and smelled of salt, only this time it tasted much less stale in his mouth.

When Lucifer opened another door, this time to the outside, Sam’s curiosity was almost overwhelming. He thought he would see the prison or some other house, but when he stepped outside he was met with an eerily beautiful image of blue water and purple sky. Sam was fascinated by this view and simply stood there for a few minutes with his mouth slightly open in fascination and looked at it. In this wasteland of a world, he did not expect to ever see something so stunningly beautiful.

“I see you like the change of view,” Lucifer commented, his voice sounding very far away. Sam swallowed and nodded slowly. “The island might be as dead as everything else, but this view is worth coming here in my eyes.”

“It’s… incredible,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen something like this before.”

“This world might be fighting to survive, but there are some good things left in it.”

“Where… are we?” Sam finally managed to turn around to look at Lucifer, only to notice a slight change of his expression. He almost looked… nostalgic?

“Maybe this place is familiar to you, we are on the island of Alcatraz. It has been a long time since it was actually used as a prison though, we have occupied it about a year ago to use as an escape point.”

“Alcatraz… wow…” Sam didn’t even think about being here, but now that he thought of it, this location made a lot of sense. “And you protect the whole island by yourself?”

“Not by myself, but we do, yes,” Lucifer nodded, a proud gleam in his eyes. “The island is warded completely, it cannot be found by angels or hunters or anything else. I am the only one who is able to enter this place, apart from demons who wear a certain symbol.”

“Taking no risks I see.” Sam was impressed, he had to admit it. It was a very clever way of protecting his people and himself. “I’ve been here when I was a kid once, dad let Dean take me here while he was working. But this house,” he pointed at the warden’s house they just came from, “was completely burned down. There were only ruins left of it. The tour guide also said that this island is haunted and we heard some very terrifying things while we were here.”

“Haunted, really?” Lucifer smirked and crossed his arms. “Well, we had a few ghosts, but I got rid of them very quick. They were very annoying. This house was slightly damaged too, but it was rather easy to repair. Originally we didn’t intend to take the whole island, but as our small group grew bigger we expanded our territory.”

“Grow bigger? Do you mean you keep turning humans into demons?” Sam asked suspiciously and took a step back.

“No, not what you think,” Lucifer appeased him. “There are still demons out there that we pick up; they come to us because they seek shelter. Some are driven out of their hideouts, some come because they want to fight. I am selective, everyone could be a spy after all, but I still take new ones in occasionally.”

“But… why do you keep fighting? This world is destroyed already, isn’t it? What else do you want, end the rest of the humanity too?”

“It doesn’t matter for now why we fight, but this place is as safe as possible, that’s what you need to know. The prison is dangerous in itself, but the island is not. If you ever wish to get some fresh air, feel free to come out here.”

Sam didn’t like the way Lucifer evaded his question, but he refrained from asking more about this topic. After all, he was talking to the Devil, he shouldn’t expect anything. For a moment he was blinded by the other’s behavior, but he realized that he had to stay wary to not be manipulated even further. No matter how much Lucifer seemed to care, Sam couldn’t forget who he had in front of him and what he had done.

“I will never understand why you wanted the apocalypse in the first place,” Sam sighed and turned around, crossing his arms as a gust of ice cold wind hit him. “There are bad people, yes, but there are good ones to make up for them. Maybe we are monsters on the inside, but we try our damn hardest to contain this side and to do the right thing…”

“I don’t expect you to understand, Sam,” Lucifer answered in a sad voice, but Sam didn’t turn around. “Some things just have to happen, whether we want them to or not. We all choose our path and sometimes it changes, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes we lose something that we thought we could never live without and it changes the way we see the world, for the better or the worse.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked, looking over his shoulder.

“It means that not everything is always the way it seems at first. At times we expect the worst and are shocked when it turns out to be different. We should go back inside, there is a storm coming and you don’t want to be outside when it hits the island. Storms out here can be… devastating.”

Sam furrowed his brows, dying to say more, but in the end he followed the angel back into the building without further questions. He knew how regular storms were in this world already, he had no desire to find out how bad they could get here.

Still, Lucifer’s words didn’t leave his head so easily and Sam thought about what he had said for a long time after that. He had to think back to the building they were in, which had completely burned down in the world he came from, but was only slightly damaged in this one. There was something he didn’t figure out yet, something important and he knew he wouldn’t be able to let this topic go until he knew the truth. Something still didn’t match up and Sam was determined to find out what it was.

#samifer #sam x lucifer #sam winchester #spn lucifer #requiem of memories #two days in a row for once #i told you the schedule won't change #so enjoy i guess?#multi chapter fic #chapter 6 #myfics

4 notes · View notes

yepjugotdatright · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 6

Im Jaebum walked down the streets of downtown Daegu. His bare knees showing through his ripped jeans with every step he took and his eyes glanced through his disheveled bangs over the store signs – he was looking for a car repair shop called Sangshik’s. But until now he had only found several convenience stores and a gas station on his way. He wasn’t even sure if he should be doing this – well, it was a debt he had to repay but it didn’t feel right. It had been two years since Jaebum had walked through Daegu like this – too long for his taste. He could barely recognize the town. Back then he knew downtown Daegu like his back pocket and now he couldn’t even find the right way to this small car repair shop. He took out his phone and put on the navigator to lead him the way. It appeared that he wasn’t that far away – only a few minutes later and he stood in front of the shop with the huge orange, scripted Sangshik’s hanging over the entrance. He pushed the door open and a bell hanging directly over the door resonated through the room. It wasn’t long and a middle aged man left the staff room with a bright smile plastered on his face. The man wiped his hands on his blue overall and offered a loud: “Welcome at Sangshik’s!” while he closed the door and the loud laughing inside the staff room was silenced. Jaebum raised his hand in a greeting manner and took out a picture from his back pocket and put it on the counter in front of the shop owner. “I am looking for a girl. Around 20-something; her name’s Bak Jisuk. I was told she had been here often” his voice was low and laid back. “Bak Jisuk?” the shop owner took the picture and looked at it carefully with a raised eyebrow. “No, never heard of her”. Jaebum took the picture back and offered a polite smile. “It was worth a try – but thank you nonetheless.” He said, but couldn’t help noticing the older man glancing nervously at the door he came from. He knew the shop owner was lying. Of course he had to know Bak Jisuk – she had been working here at her late Uncle’s workshop during her high school years. Jaebum nodded and left the shop without another word – there were always other ways to find the person of interest. So he took a few steps down the road and leaned against a wall – waiting for Bak Jisuk to leave the workshop. With the shop owner’s nervous hands and his response he was sure that she was in there – she had to be. And he was right, not even half an hour had passed and the same girl as on the picture left the shop taking a few glances over the road and hurried towards the subway station. It was so much easier than he had thought to find her. Even though she had moved away; she had too many emotional bonds to this place that’s why she wouldn’t be able to escape the world she was brought up into. He waited a few moments before he strutted after her – into the subway station, into the same line; all the way back to Seoul. He halted a few houses away from the one Jisuk was about to enter. She had taken out her keys and unlocked the door. Before entering she looked over her shoulder one last time – right into the direction of the young man watching her from afar. But he was quick to act like a random passenger. He was sure that Jisuk wouldn’t suspect anything – she may be good with mathematics and stuff – but this kind of work was his expertise. He walked on the pavement and casually passed the boarding house – Jisuk’s gaze was resting on him for a little bit before she shrugged it off and closed the door from inside. His eyes wandered over the neighborhood and reached the house next door – a huge sign was put onto the front garden: FOR SALE. A sly smirk wandered over his face; this was making it way too easy for him. A few days later and he was still moving around Jisuk as her shadow. It wasn’t easy following around her crazy delivering style – but in the end he managed to find out all the places she worked at. He was a little bored – he thought the life of the Bak Jisuk he had to hear so much about was a little more than just working part time. But he wasn’t one to complain. This was a lot better than what he had done before – even though his conscience wasn’t feeling any better now either. He was on his way to the convenience store where Jisuk had to be working at right now. It was more like a check-up. She seemed to be handling herself well – he just had to make sure that no one else was doing any surveillance – except for him of course.

At the convenience store he saw Jisuk talking with another young girl and handing her a few papers. She must be one of the boarders. His phone in his pocket vibrated signaling an incoming message. He was reluctant to look at it – there weren’t many people who had his number and he wasn’t very thrilled at the thought of the few knowing ones contacting him. With a heavy sigh he took out his phone and looked at the message: Kid, you better watch out. They know you are out! “Ouch!” Someone ran against him falling backwards. He looked up barely keeping his balance and saw a young woman on her knees to gather the scattered papers. He joined her and collected a few noticing the Yonsei emblem on the upper corner of the documents. She stared at him to which he offered a smile and handed her the papers back: “Here, I’m sorry”. “Thanks – no, I mean I am sorry” she stammered back and counted through the papers. He chuckled and stood up again putting his hands back into the pockets of his pants. He casually leaned his head back a little and glanced inside the convenience store making sure Jisuk was still there. Upon hearing a light chuckle he turned his attention back to the girl and saw her grinning foolishly at him. She wiggled knowingly with her eyebrows and bowed her head a little before saying: “Have a nice day!”She walked past him heading towards the nearest subway station. His glance followed the girl with the weak foreign accent but readjusted itself onto the window of the convenience store again – searching for the young female employee, however, was met directly with a pair of eyes staring at him. Jaebum coughed and slowly made his way inside hoping she wouldn’t be suspicious. For a short moment he thought he was busted – the way her eyes were following him as he came through the door and kept watching him while he was casually walking through the aisles looking for something random to buy. He came up with a cup of ramyun so he had an excuse sitting in the store – and a bottle of water. She occasionally glanced at him while scanning the plastic cup and bottle. “4,300 Won, please” she reached out her hand and Jaebum gave her his credit card. While swiping the card through the reader she caught a glimpse of his name and looked back at his face – she couldn’t say he didn’t look somewhat familiar. “Then, have a nice day” she said returning the card with the receipt. He nodded and left. Jisuk watched him leave – walking away from the store casually. She had seen him more often in this neighborhood; he must have moved here recently.

“Your table is ready” the waitress invitingly reached out her arm and guided the three headed Park-family into one of their few VIP room’s. “It is an honor to have you as our guests” she said with a pleasant customer smile on her face. The older married couple gave her a court nod before sitting down at the set table. Three plates with cutlery were placed neatly onto the white tablecloth. The room was moderately decorated with just a few paintings of temples and Mediterranean architecture and a statue depicting a Greek goddess. While the woman looked around carefully to get engulfed into the ambience her husband was more eager to study the menu. Their son followed shortly after them, he looked exactly like the younger version of his parents – his dark hair styled the same as the grey of his father and his suit had the same grey as his mother’s costume. “Jinyoung-ah, what were you waiting for? Come on, sit down” his mother called him to sit in front of her. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a family dinner?” Jinyoung asked her disappointed side eying his father. His mother laughed awkwardly, but before she could explain the absence of his sisters his father took over with a strict tone: “Hana is still in Los Angeles – did you expect her to fly over just for some…” he scrutinized his eyes to read the next best dish: “Seafood Pasta?” “What about Jinah-Noona?” he looked questioningly to his mother who had looked down on her hands feeling guilty. “Jinah is not my daughter” his father’s deep voice made the room totally quiet. Jinyoung was about to go against it – defending his oldest sister. However, her mother held his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. It wasn’t the right moment to talk about that – to be honest it never was.

Someone knocked onto the door which was opened shortly after. The waitress came back in and bowed slightly towards the family. “Are you ready to order?” “Yes” Jinyoung’s father closed the menu even though Jinyoung wasn’t able to even think about the menu yet. “One bottle of Chardonnay and the stuffed Calamari for three” he handed the menu back to the waitress who nodded with her smile still being plastered on her face. “Father, mum can’t drink wine - she’s still on medicine” Jinyoung spoke up seeing that her mother wouldn’t. His father looked at him, then eyed up his wife and turned back to the waitress. “Make the wine for two and a glass of water”. Jinyoung folded his hands and placed them on his lap – family dinners with his father were always a pain in the ass. The waitress nodded and left the room – but not without a deep bow before closing the door. “So, how are your studies?” his father asked as soon as the waitress had left the room again. “They are okay”. “Just okay?” “What your son meant is that everything is going well – there is nothing we need to worry about” his mother explained quickly before her husband could misunderstand. “I don’t want you to take your medicine studies lightly. You are the only one to take over the hospital after all” he folded his hands and looked at his youngest child. It sounded as if there had never been his first born daughter – also studying medicine in Daegu. However, after she had decided to go on a different path than her father had set for her – she suddenly had never existed on the family register. Their father was easy to disappoint, very quick to anger and it wasn’t hard to say that he never got a ‘best dad’-cup for his birthday. “I understand” Jinyoung just nodded and glanced to his mother. She smiled giving him a supporting nod. Suddenly his father’s phone started ringing; Jinyoung saw the name flashing on his mobile’s display. It was no one of the hospital’s staff – he knew his father never saved their numbers with their actual names. Mister Park put the napkin back on the table and coughed before saying: “I have to take this call”. And with the mobile moving to his ear he left the room and left his wife and son alone. Jinyoung looked at his mother and noticed her looking down on the table – he wasn’t sure if she had seen the contact or if she already knew what his father was doing behind her back. Jinyoung wanted to say something consoling to her but before his mouth could even open his father came back in. “I am sorry, but I have to go. An important appointment came up. I will see you two at home”, he said and was about to leave again. “Don’t take too long” his wife said with a fake smile forming on her lips and looked Mister Park in the eye. He nodded, took his briefcase and left the room for good. “Do you want to go, too?” she noticed her son eying her up. Jinyoung shook his head and took one of the bread sticks standing on the table as appetizers.

In the boarding house Aejin had set the table with lots of pizzas and fried chicken freshly delivered. It wasn’t long until the other inhabitants of the house came to sit down on the table with the lovely looking unhealthy food. “What is going on here?” Hyunwoo asked astonished – his mother, the one prone to cook everything herself made a dinner completely out of fast food. Hyunshik patted his shoulder while passing him to sit down on his usual seat. “Tomorrow is Jisuk’s first day going to college. Your mother thought a little celebration wouldn’t hurt”. “Wow” he huffed, “Do I also get this if I graduate?” Aejin turned to him and smiled: “If…” Youngjae, Kimiko and Jisuk sat down looking into the round. “Where’s Yunhee?” Youngjae asked seeing the empty seat next to him. “Her training started again – she is coming back home late”. “Training?” Kimiko asked curious. “Didn’t she tell you?” “Tell me what?” “She’s a sports major” Hyunwoo smacked. “I know that” Kimiko waved that off, “I meant, what is she training?” “Why are you already eating?” Aejin caught her son helping himself with the chicken. He put the drumstick back onto his plate and waited for the discussion to finish – before Aejin could say anything more. “She is in the university’s women’s baseball team.” Hyunshik explained. Kimiko nodded. “A pretty big deal if you ask baseball fanatics such as my father” Hyunwoo remarked. ”Really?” ”Yeah, we have kind of a celebrity of amateur sports living with us” Youngjae laughed. “Let’s start eating before Hyunwoo dies of hunger” Jisuk chuckled as she noticed him growing impatient next to her. “Thank you, noona. I really appreciate your benevolence”. “Wow, you’d say everything if food is involved. Please, eat!” He gave her two thumbs-up before taking the drumstick back in his hands and started eating. Aejin raised her glass of water and toasted towards Jisuk: “Jisuk, I am so proud you are finally going to college” Aejin said smiling to both eyes. “So, enjoy your little party – and, Kimiko, you as well. Tomorrow is also your first day – so dig in!” Kimiko smiled and diligently filled her plate; and so did the others at the table. After the meal they moved into the living room with some beer to catch the Sunday evening drama’s last episode. “So what do you think? Are they finally gonna kiss?” Hyunwoo wriggled his eyebrows at Youngjae and Kimiko. “It sounds so dirty when you do this” Youngjae signed towards his eyebrows. “Of course they will – we are talking about an average Korean weekend drama” Jisuk butted in. “But this drama already broke the golden rule… so I am not that sure anymore” Hyunwoo crossed his arms. “Golden rule?” Kimiko raised her eyebrows. “The main couple must kiss in the 6th or 7th episode.” Youngjae explained. “Sageuks are an exception” he added after opening a beer can. “But I also think they won’t kiss – because I believe she will go back to her first boyfriend”. “What made you think so? There was some serious action going on between him and his new secretary.” “I don’t know – a gut feeling?” Youngjae shrugged. “I am not sure; but I guess she will end up with no one” Kimiko suggested. “Don’t break my heart” Hyunwoo whined. “I am not watching 44 episodes to see her end up with no one!” “Shh! It’s starting” They were half through the episode as someone suddenly came barging through the door. “You won’t believe what is happening right now!” Yunhee stood in front of them breathing heavily and took the remote control to change the channel. They wanted to protest but the gossip magazine made them lose their words. “Wonho and Ji Areum are reported to be dating. We are still waiting for a statement from the two – but netizens send us many obvious pictures of the two meeting up” “Isn’t that unbelievable?” Yunhee was still a little bit out of breath. “Yeah, I mean – you caught the exact moment she started that sentence” Jisuk remarked and gave her a thumbs-up. Kimiko smiled awkwardly. If they knew that she actually already knew of this since they went to the karaoke… “This seems wildly interesting – but the last episode is over soon.” Youngjae reached out for the remote, but Yunhee didn’t care and looked at the gossip news. “This. Is. Huge!” “Are they even going to shoot their new drama?” Jisuk uttered her worries. “Hopefully they will just recast”. “Guys! The other drama?” Youngjae reminded them again of their original mission. This dating scandal couldn’t be more interesting. “Oh right” Yunhee changed the channel quickly back to the drama – just to see the heroine saying goodbye to her love interest and leaving the café. “One shocking thing after another” Hyunwoo gaped at the TV, “I just wasted 44 hours of my life and lost Areum to a damn actor”.

First day of university after spring break and every student had to get used to getting up early again to fill the subways on their way to their universities; something Jisuk has get used to. The traffic was bad around the campus and it was way too early for her. But nonetheless she managed to arrive at Yonsei and dismounted her motorbike. She had parked her motorbike right next to the bike racks and nodded towards the bike-riders who eyed her up judgingly. With helmet in hand and bag shouldered on her back she followed the mass of students to one of the bigger buildings – heading for the faculty of engineering. It was actually a pretty campus. The pavements were flagged with red stone slabs and surrounded by green hedges and a few flowers. It was quite visible that this was one of the best universities of the town – a lot of taxes must flow in here. “Hey – why are you looking so scared? Don’t you want to help out your Hyung?” Jisuk’s ears twitched upon hearing the hypocritical voice resonate from behind the hedge. “All I am asking of you is for you to lend me some pocket money… so I can eat some lunch. Is that too much to ask, huh?” She got out of the mass movement and peeped behind the hedge just to see three well-built - if not too massively – cornering a boy looking like a bean sprout. “I am talking to you! Why aren’t you answering?” he grabbed the sprout’s chin and made him look into his own eyes. She recognized the sprout as her glassed friend from the preparation course and didn’t hesitate to throw her helmet at the one grabbing Bambam’s chin. “What the…!?” He turned towards her after the helmet had hit his shoulder and rolled on the ground. “Let him be!” Jisuk said and moved in front of Bambam staring at the bully. She thought that students wouldn’t have time for such childish things – but she had been wrong a lot of times before. The bully turned to his two friends and started snickering. “Says who?” “Me! I tell you to go away or I will call the police!” she threatened him. “The police?” he laughed out loud, “Why to go to such length? We just asked a fellow student for a favor – the last time I checked this wasn’t against the law” he said trying to sound intimidating. But Jisuk just looked at him unfazed. “Well, the last time I checked it was illegal to ask for favors while threatening them with violence.” He growled and seemingly played with the thought to beat Jisuk up as well – but his friends pulled at his arm. “Let’s just go”. “Missy, you’ll regret this!” he said and let off them to follow his friends back into the mass of other students going to their respective rooms. “Are you okay?” she turned back to Bambam who pushed the black framed glasses back on his nose bridge. “Yeah – I guess. Thanks” he tried to smile at her. “How did that happen?” Jisuk asked curiously as she handed him his bag which lay on the ground. “I am used to it by now” he shrugged it off, however, Jisuk gritted her teeth: “Do you know them?” “They are guys from the Elite Club. They tend to abuse their status for lunch money” he said as if it was the normalest thing on earth. “Elite Club?” Jisuk raised her eyebrows at him. “A club of this university – the top ranked students get to join this club.” “They didn’t seem like top ranked students to me”. “Sport students…” Bambam said, “You don’t have to be graced with intelligence to get good grades.” Jisuk chuckled, “Don’t say this too loud. My friend is one - and if she starts pulling you behind hedges i won’t interfere”. “Thanks for the head up” Bambam laughed.

Yunhee walked down the corridor of the huge auditorium on her way to lecture hall number 3 for sports theory. She was now in her third semester – she couldn’t believe it has already been a year she survived at this institution of constant make-believe studying. It was more of a daily gathering of hungover adolescent people – especially in the sports major. Yunhee reached the open door titled ‘Hall #3’ and walked inside seeing the big lecture hall filled to its half. Students sitting here and there in groups with the obligatory two seats distance to others. “Yunhee!! Over here!” she heard someone call her and saw a hand emerging from a group in the back of the hall. With a sigh leaving her mouth she walked up the stairs to the young man who had called her sitting in the middle of other students –who Yunhee liked to call his fangirls; no matter the gender. “I reserved you a seat” he grinned at her and removed his bag from the seat next to him. Yunhee eyed up his fandom circling around him and sat down reluctantly, whispering “Thank you, Jackson, I can’t wait sharing this lecture with all of your…” she looked at the many faces to count, “thirty friends”. “I’ll see you at lunch” he said to the others with a brightly smiling face while they slowly dispersed to their own seats. “Wow. Charming as always.” He huffed and looked to the front. “Isn’t that the new prof?” Jackson said as he saw a young man coming through the door and moving to the podium. Yunhee followed Jackson’s gaze and looked at a rather young man getting a laptop out of his bag. “They did say the new prof is pretty young for a professor. But he is our age – when did he graduate?” “But isn’t he handsome?” Jackson whispered back not even really listening to Yunhee. She chuckled. “So chic…” Jackson mumbled. “Are you crushing on him? Should I remove all the giggling rivals in this hall?” Yunhee offered upon hearing the female fraction squealing as the young man looked up from the computer into the audience. He had a fierce pair of eyes and a set of broad shoulders to add to his intimidating bearing. Jackson turned his head to look at Yunhee “What kind of bloodbath are you imagining?” “I just want to help out a friend willing to come out of the closet”. He raised his eyebrows, “You don’t think he is handsome?” Yunhee snorted and looked back to the front, “Of course I do – but he is a professor. There is no way I am going to get into a relationship with a docent”. “Strong ethics for someone who cheats during drinking games” Jackson shrugged and looked back to the young professor. “I have a feeling that this semester will be very exciting – sports theory never sounded better”. “Wow, calm down, fanboy”. The door opened once again and a man in suit, with a briefcase and in early thirties entered the hall. He walked over to the new professor and shook his hand. They exchanged a few words before the suited man turned to the students and spoke through the microphone. “Good morning. I am Professor Han Jungpyo, your new docent for sports theory” he introduced himself and the younger and handsome man stood in the back. “Ah, and this is Im Jaebum. The new janitor for our and the informatics facility. We will be seeing him more often this semester” the professor introduced him. “Janitor?” Jackson gaped. “Yeah, shocking” a girl from the front row turned to Jackson, “No one with such a face becomes a janitor”.

Jisuk and Bambam walked through the huge dining hall with tablets in hand looking for an empty table. “Wow, this is worse than rush hour” she let her gaze wander over the huge mass of hungry students. “Imagine a zombie breakout right here” Bambam offered and chuckled upon seeing Jisuk’s not amused face. “Why am I hanging out with you?” “Jisuk, over here!” someone called her out making her turn around to see Yunhee and Kimiko sitting near the wall. “Let’s go over there” she signed him to follow her. They made their way through the other tables until they finally sat down next to Jisuk’s roommates. “Bambam, that’s Yunhee and Kimiko – we live in the same boarding house” she introduced them and took spoon and chopsticks to hand. “Bambam? Is that your real name?” Yunhee asked pitying. He laughed. “No~ my real name is a little… long.” “He refuses to tell saying I’d make fun of him” Jisuk huffed. “But you’d make fun of him”. “Probably” Jisuk laughed and started eating. Kimiko and Yunhee were long finished with eating. So they just kind of watched them eat. “Okay. Don’t turn around – but the new janitor just entered and he is staring right at our table…” Yunhee suddenly said freaked out. “What do you mean? The new janitor?” Jisuk was about to turn around, but Yunhee stopped her. “I just said don’t turn around…”. “What you are doing here is very suspicious behavior.” Jisuk turned around nonetheless but didn’t see anyone that looked like a janitor. “If you want to see him you can just check on Yonsei’s homepage. They always have every staff people introduced” Yunhee offered and emptied her glass of water. “This makes stalking a person a lot easier.” Jisuk said as she pulled out her phone and looked for the website. “Oh what? That can’t be” Jisuk whined. “What is it?” “My mobile data ran out just now... I will just check him at home”. “We all know you won’t” Kimiko said smiling while she checked the time. She started putting her stuff back on the tray and wore her jacket. “I gotta go. See you around” she waved at her friends, took her tray and left.

Kimiko was on her way to her lecture as her phone started ringing. It was an internet call via skype – she had installed the app especially for her mother, international calls were too expensive. “Hi, mama” she answered the call and got the attention of everyone in the corridor as she suddenly started speaking Japanese. “Hey, sweetie. I am just calling to see how your first day as a student is going” “It’s okay – I guess. Just the way I always had imagine college life” Kimiko said and halted in front of the site map of this building to find the right hall. “And how’s the weather? Are you getting used to it? My colleagues say New Haven has a lot of rain…”. Kimiko coughed and looked down to her feet, “Yeah, it’s actually very sunny right now”. “And your English, are they making fun of you?” “No, why would they? We are not in High School anymore. Everybody is very nice here and patient” Kimiko chuckled – she had never thought it would be so easy to lie to her mother. “I can’t believe it, my only child going to college in America – I am very proud of you”. “Thanks mom, but don’t be. I haven’t even graduated yet. Ehm, I have to go. My reading starts any moment” Kimiko said while she made her way up the staircase. “Alright, sweetie, have fun”.

#ch6 #our roaring 20s #got7 #took a long while for me to finish this one #longer than actually planed #but a really good series and a really good video game got in the way #a new character is going to be introduced in the next chapter #originally planned it to be in this one #but that felt kind of too lengthy for me #is that even a word?#some loveplot is coming soon as well #finally

5 notes · View notes

shinytalent903-blog · 5 years ago

Text

The Introduction of Addison West.

My DM invites me into the party, gives me a brief rundown of the world and such, and I come up with a character. I have a great love of writing, even if I am not that great at it, so I wrote a brief introduction to send to me DM.

They really enjoyed it, and they even used the NPC that I introduced as a main NPC in our campaign. I hope that someone else reads it and likes it too.

*****

Target: Addison Eleanor West.

Payment: 500,000 credits upon proof of completion.

*********************************************

Addison West loves The Luxe. This multi-level club in the silver district is wall to wall bodies, no matter the night, their VIP area is always open to her, and possibly the best of all she went to school with Alexis (DJ LX Sm00th) and he constantly kept her favourite tracks in reserve.

Tonight with a week until the Centennial Celebration the place is quiet. Addison can normally lounge in VIP and not see the bar for the crush of people, now everyone passing by can make eye contact and smile hopefully.

Addison taps violet nails on a glass filled with a lavender drink, a subtle signal to Matteo that she would love another.

Matteo gives her a look before puffing out his barrel chest and heading to the bar. Matteo is an old school body guard, been with her family since before she was born, and he could still snap a guy in half for looking at her the wrong way. Still sometimes Addison forgets that there are streaks of silver in his well oiled black hair.

Matteo likes to remind Addison that he is not an errand boy, that the West Corporation hires interns to fetch and carry for her. Addison always fires back with a reminder that an intern won't take a bullet for her.

The VIP area is empty save for her and while normally this is the time of the evening that Addison would start inviting people over, tonight something feels different. When Matteo brings her a fresh drink she thanks him with a smile, despite her mother's belief that Addison disrespects the West Family staff Addison has great respect for Matteo.

Like right now, Alexis is taking a break between sets and he is bee lining toward her. Matteo knows without her having to say a word to stand in front of the entrance and stare Alexei down like the immovable brick wall he is.

“Addi, love, call off your dog and let me come say hello?”

“Don't call me that. Matteo answers to mother, he is deaf to me. Isn't that right Matteo?”

Matteo grunts and continues his dead stare.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me a date Miss West.”

Matteo snorts, and Addison gives her camera ready smile. “IM me the details Lex.” she says before blowing him a kiss.

Soothed Alexis leaves and misses Addison rolling her eyes at her bodyguard as Matteo gives her the signal. The reason that Luxe holds her interest is that there is an almost nightly card game and finally, finally a seat was free at the table.

Lucien Spires took the job because Mallory West didn't give him room to say no. Lucien had no interest in killing some girl, but the amount of zeroes on that cheque were very convincing.

Taking a passing look in the glass as he exits the room he catches sight of the charcoal suit, the red tie, and the polish on his shoes and smirks. Green eyes stare back at him.

If Mrs West really wants to plan a funeral so close to the Centennial that's not his problem.

The Luxe has barely opened it's doors and Lucien has a seat at the table, he has to wait for the target to arrive, and then gain her seat at the table. The hosts like to keep her waiting, and for some reason the target doesn't seem to mind.

When the asset finally breezes in, smile fixed in place, she jokes about a table full of new faces to take credits from. It falls flat, and yet the target just fixes a feline smile to her darkened purple lips and picks up her hand.

*****

"She recently fixated on the colour purple. She will do this, you understand? Chase a particular interest only to give it up once it's been bled dry. I believe it has to do with her father's penchant for spoiling her."

"Ma'am, I don't know why that's relevant."

"Hmm?" Mallory West raises a perfect eyebrow at Lucien "Well I hope you would use the information provided to accurately identify your target."

"Ma'am, no offence, but everyone on Starbright knows your daughter, even with her recent hairstyle choice."

Of course only the impossibly rich could be this impossibly ignorant. Addison’s face had been all over the feeds when she dyed her blonde tresses a soft lavender, and shaved one side of her head.

Mallory West flinches, her children were clearly crafted in her image, and Addison is the one that constantly shifts and changes to not reflect her mother, but herself.

Addison was three hundred up overall, but this hand was not her hand. Worse still Matteo kept pacing in her peripheral vision throwing off her concentration. When she finally folds with a curse, tossing her cards on the table there's a moment when Addison doesn't understand why her cards hitting the table sounded like a gunshot.

The other woman at the table doesn't pause, she draws a las pistol from the small of her back and fires at the set of jowls that originally fired at Matteo.

"She's my contract, best back off old man."

Addison has grown up around guns. Matteo insisted on teaching her how to shoot, and Addison is awful at it but she understands gun fire, is familiar enough not to panic.

In an instant the table is on it's side and Addison is crouched on the sticky floor of a back room gambling den and wonder how in the constellations she got here.

*****

Well that's an interesting development. Lucien had been planning on making a move, just not something quite so bold.

The older gent at the table, he'd called himself Henry, had taken the guard out first. Smart, Matteo Delano was old school, and protective of his charge. He was also a legend in the underground boxing league, if you followed that sort of thing.

The woman (she didn't give a name so Lucien had been calling her Blondie) at the table had drawn Henry's attention, she had a laz pistol and knives for days. Good. Let them fight this out. Lucien would focus on- shit! Where did she go?

The burning sensation in his shoulder indicated that Blondie took exception to him trying to evac.

*****

Addison knows The Luxe's layout better than she knows the layout of her parent's penthouse. There is a service corridor, it leads to a set of stairs, and those stairs get you to an observation deck on the top level of the club.

Right now that's what Addison is focused on, get to the deck, be seen, and draw attention to herself.

There was a reason that those... what do you call someone trying to kill you? Criminals? Hitmen?

Assassins?

'Snap out of it West.' She gives herself a shake and starts pulling off her wine coloured heels in case she needs to run.

As she does Addison whispers "Call A."

There is a ringing in her ear “You've reached the messaging service of Armstrong West, if this is time sensitive please leave a message after the tone. Thank you.”

“A, dammit. If you're screening my calls I'm going to kill you.

********

Lucien chuckles, the first call of the night that Addison makes and it's a hurried call to her brother.

He wonders why she didn't call a security team, or even her father, odd that she would instead phone her brother.

“Listen bro, there's trouble. Matteo got shot, I'm on my way to you. I just gotta get out of here first.

I'm in the back corridor. A, please be careful. Stay put!”

Addison has no idea that this message isn't reaching her brother. Lucien rerouted all her calls to his own private line.

Lucien snakes his way out of the room, stepping over Blondie's unconscious form, leaving Harry bleeding out on the floor. There's a growing respect for this mark. Lucien looses his tie, and messes up his hair.

Hopefully he can sell this.

*****

Addison whips around glaring down the corridor, one shoe off and stumbling to wrench off the second. “Stay away from me.”

“Wait, please, what the hell,” and to really sell it Lucien winces with the pain in his shoulder. “what happened in there?”

Addison squints at him, and Lucien doesn’t know when he started referring to the mark by her name, but it doesn’t suit her.

“Well those two were plants, clearly something is going on.” Addison approaches, and angrily tears at the hem of her dress, it’s a deep shade of violet that off sets just how pale her tube engineered skin truly is. “Hold still.”

Lucien hisses for real this time as she wraps the wound.

“It won’t help for long, but it should be enough to get you out. On that note, we should move. Now.”

Addison heads for the stairs, and this should be the point where Lucien takes his snub nose from his ankle holster and puts one in the back of her head instead he finds himself asking

“How did you learn to do this?” He gestures to his shoulder.

They are halfway up the stairs before she answers “Matteo, my bodyguard, he taught me. He figured if I was going to go to these places that I needed some survival skills to back myself up.”

Lucien pauses on the stairs. “My name-”

“I don’t want to know. Just keep moving.”

“I know yours Miss West, it’s only proper that I give you my name in exchange.”

Addison just keeps climbing silently fuming, and yes being shot at kick starts ones adrenaline but Lucien had been expecting a whiny brat, one that went to pieces at the first sign of trouble, he hadn’t expected someone prepared to dress a wound, someone with a contingency plan.

“Listen when I get you out of this, then you can give me your name handsome, til then just accept my apology for getting you shot.”

“How do you know they were there for you?” Lucien is genuinely curious.

“I can buy one new face at that table, but three? No. Plus they took Matteo out first. Matteo was ex private military, an ex heavyweight boxer, and has been my shadow since I started school.

Everyone who knows my family knows I don’t leave my apartments without Matteo to watch out for me. Father’s orders.”

Lucien nods, clearly even Mallory West underestimates her daughter’s intellect.

“Okay, I’ll give you that.”

*********

Addison shoulders the door open and slips through, the crowd is really going now and all she can do is hope that there aren’t any more surprises waiting for her.

Mr Suit and Tie is following her, and she does feel bad that he got shot but she knows that getting worked up won’t help the situation.

“I called my brother, he’ll meet us somewhere safe. From there we can get you home.” Addison has been at card tables since she was 12, she got thrown out of her first school for running a less than legal card game and now she watches Suit and Tie’s face and something twists in her stomach.

Addison had just spent an hour with the man, and even when he’d been 500 credits in the hole he hadn’t broken a sweat. Now those vivid green eyes won’t meet her own cosmetically enhanced violet ones and she begins to wonder but decides to let things play out. Being a West meant knowing how to play the game.

“Uh Miss West, shouldn’t we get a Sec team?” Addison shakes her head, chuckling quietly.

“Drop the Miss, eh? Just West will be fine.” Addison can’t decide if this guy is trouble, or if he is Mr Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

“Okay West, where to?”

They make it to the front entrance of Luxe before she hears the tell tale crackle of an energy rifle.

Addison hasn’t fired one, but she’s heard them before, and now she smells burning.

“We gotta move.” Addison feels herself shoved out the door and into a mostly deserted corridor.

The burning smell stays with them and as she hauls Suit and Tie toward a set of silver elevator doors.

When the doors seal shut Suit and Tie slumps against the wall and he has both hands pressing to a fresh burn on his side.

“Maybe they are after you handsome.” A grim smile through gritted teeth greets her, there’s a sheen of sweat on his pale face.

“Lucien. It’s Lucien Spires.”

“I thought I said to keep it to yourself until we were in the clear.”

“I know, but maybe there’s something else you should know West.” Addison already knows.

Dammit.

“So you wanna collect on me now, or wait till those doors open?”

“I was thinking I would let you go.”

“Sure, at least tell me what the pay cheque would have been? Please tell me that you weren’t going to take less than a mill” Studying the shifty look on Lucien’s face Addison shakes her head

“What? Did they short change you? Damn. My stocks alone are worth at least 800 thou in credits. I’m disappointed in you Spires.” He starts laughing, which turns to a hacking cough.

“500 thousand credits, upon proof of completion.”

“I’m deeply hurt, that’s my monthly bookie allowance.” The doors open and showing a surprising amount of care Addison hooks an arm around Lucien’s torso and lets him lean on her as they try to hustle.

“Let’s get you patched up while you decide once and for all whether to collect or not.”

Addison had done this more than once, flipped someone from a hater into a follower, and while she isn’t sure that having a hitman on the payroll will increase her portfolio she sure hopes it will deter anyone else from taking a shot.

There’s a red dot at her feet, and then two, and then five. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay Spires, when I say run, you gotta haul ass, got it?” Lucien grits his teeth and nods. Addison isn’t sure that her new hitman will make it but since he had been planning on killing her for far less than what she is worth Addison doesn’t know if she is too worried.

*****

There’s a blur of varying shades of purple that moves down the mostly steel corridor and Lucien is doing his best to stay upright, and follow. Shots erupt behind them, and everywhere feeds are talking about “an electrical accident at a local club” because of course the Sec Team is spinning the story away from station wide panic.

A door slides open and he almost misses her dive into the opening, before he is being pulled inside with her.

“Confession time West, I intercepted the call you made to your brother.” Addison is at a console and he isn’t sure what she’s doing. “Figured that’s what happened. Sending him something now.”

“Is that safe?” Lucien is slumped on the ground, the left half of him on fire.

“It is when it’s from my father’s terminal. Now let’s see about getting you a med kit.”

Soon enough painkillers are being stabbed into his right shoulder and the familiar floating feeling has kicked in. Lucien begins to fight sleep, but he can’t. The black is all encompassing and he finally gives in and lets it take him.

When his eyes drift open there’s a scrap of paper in his hand, and it has to be from Addison because paper is more precious than gold on this station, and nobody else would think to waste it. Sure enough the ink is a sparkly purple, it looks more like lipstick than pen.

“This isn’t over Spires. We’ll be in touch.” -West

**********

“Addi, are you sure you’re okay?” Armstrong is standing over her in his kitchen, trying to inspect his sister for any sign that she isn’t herself.

“Listen A, I told you, I’m fine. Grab the bread would you?" Hip bumping her twin out of her way as she opens the fridge and starts pulling out meat, cheese, lettuce, and a tomato.

“Sandwiches? Are you seriously eating at a time like this? SOMEONE TRIED TO HAVE YOU KILLED?”

“And I am a growing girl A, I gotta keep my strength up. What if my blood pressure drops right when I need to run for my life?” Her twin frowns as he hands her bread, and butter.

“I can’t believe Matteo’s gone.” In that one moment she cracks a little, her voice softens, and her chin wobbles.

“Addi, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” The West twins weren’t raised to be affectionate. They found out a few years ago that they were only twins because their parents thought it would be efficient to just raise them both at once.

That doesn’t stop her brother from awkwardly rubbing her back as she assembles a pair of towering sandwich monuments.

They stand opposite each other in Armstrong’s kitchen, leaning on opposite benches with their feet just touching. Her toes are painted plum and his are in a pair of slippers as they silently consume what look to be mouth watering sandwiches.

0 notes

therealestatesparkblog · 6 years ago

Text

5 Tips for Tackling Your Life With a Warrior Spirit

This weekend a dear friend of mine warrior, UFC fighter James Krause will be throwing down in Lincoln, Nebraska. I have come to know James well, not only as a professional athlete, but through the MMA gym he owns and often coaches at. James is also a visionary when it comes to business and his budding real estate investing empire. For two years I have been training with my personal coach Trey, James, and the many other amateurs and professional fighters in the gym. Ive come to learn some real ground and striking skills. Ive met amazing, talented athletes to train with. And realized there is quite the different between watching it on TV and thinking you understand and being in the midst of a sparring session. Training is Not For the Light-Hearted, or Easily Deterred There are very real, immediate, and potentially severe consequences from training. Ive broken toes from kicking someones knee at full speed. There were times I had massive bruises and difficulty walking for multiple days from being repeatedly kicked in the thigh and the side hard. Idislocated my jaw when I was choked across my chin. After all, the point of training is to get good at kicking, punching, kneeing, and choking another human being. I believe the factors and effort it takes to become great at martial arts shares principals that directly relate to real estate. Lets explore connecting mixed martial arts, professional fighters, the mastery of something, and how it intersects with real estate. Principal 1. Understand the Game Ever been to a sporting event and you didnt know the rules of the game? For me, watching rugby is like watching a bunch of men in funny suits who dont know how to play football throwing a misshaped football. I DONT KNOW THE RULES! (Sorry, rugby fans!) In MMA, there are a specific set of basics on how to throw a punch, how to throw, how to defend yourself from kicks, or get out of a particular submission. Ways to put together combinations in striking, or setup take downs. There are also specific rules you must follow as a fighter both standing, in transition, and on the ground. These rules have to be followed or you can lose points or even be disqualified in a fight. Just like in real estate, when pressure is applied to a live situation, you will go to your default. To what you have trained or done the most of. The fighter must train in real time, with real pressure. Without repeated effort and focus, in a live situation, with adrenaline and a real opponent in front of you, your default will be panic instead of a sound defense or counter. In real estate, if you want to accomplish buying rentals or flipping a property, you have to understand the game. What are the legal rules of putting this contract together? How does it work buying from a wholesaler or an auction at the court house steps? There are real, serious, consequences to not understanding the game. Talking about a punch in the gut I can tell you, it hurts (both physically and mentally). Not knowing the game in real estate can cost you money, headaches, a lawsuit. It can financially ruin someone who hasnt understood the rules and hasnt done their home work. Related:Why the Small, Seemingly Insignificant Actions You Perform Daily Are VITAL to Your Success Principal 2. Show up and Put In the Work From what I understand the average black belt in jui-jitsu has been working steadily at the craft for 10, 12, 15+ years. Sure, there are people who have a high aptitude or have worked extraordinarily hard to accomplish this sooner. But it still take many years. If you have never trained, it may be hard to understand. But let me try to paint the picture for you: As a white belt (which I am), most of my time in class is spent learning skills and then defending myself, trying not to get arm locked or choked out. This takes patience. And a willingness to be uncomfortable. At first, with someone smothering you with their weight, or an elbow in your midsection, you FREAK. You cant breathe. Its hard to understand what is happening without understanding the basic concepts of offensive and defensive positions. Over time, you start to develop some skills. More defense. Higher stamina. You can control your breathing. You start to use techniques instead of trying to muscle out of a problem (which doesnt usually work). These skills are practiced, honed, worked, thousands and thousands of times until they can be executed without conscience effort. As you gain these skills, it becomes second nature to understand the situation and take action armed with the necessary tools, talents, and techniques. The professionals in our gym are there every day often multiple times a day. Their skills and abilities arent luck. They are the product of their time, effort and practice, of their craft. Sound familiar? Real estate is no different. You have to put the work in, learn how construction works and the details within it. You need to know how to put a rental deal together and understand a secondary note. Buying SFRs versus apartments. As you learn skills, moreskills and details appear that you didnt know existed. Not less. These skills become the backbone of your real estate game. Just like your martial arts game. Its the pieces that put together the whole. Principal 3. Know and Work on Your Strengths, and Understand and Defend Your Weaknesses As an MMA fan, I have seen incredible fights over the years in the UFC and beyond. To a new viewer, it may seem that there are two people trying to beat the crap out of each other. Although this does happen, there are SO many aspects to the game beyond just being in a boxing type brawl, two people just trying to hurt each other. One opponent might be a great wrestler even a college, world, or olympic champion. Some are incredible jiu-jitsu players with tricky submissions and ground game. Others are tactical strikers, kick boxers, Muay Thai champions, and some are just freak athletes, cardio and stamina with an engine to outlast a storm and keep fighting. There is also a real mental game both internally and outwardly toward your opponent. The more well rounded you are as an athlete in each of these areas, the better your overall MMA game will be and the more easily youll be able to transition between skills and observe and understand the opponent in front of you. You can more easily recognize both problems and opportunities within the fight.

When other fighters and coaches break down a future opponent, they look for patterns. For weakness, like emotional strain after getting hit or taken down. Where are the holes in their game? What is the best way to get after this opponent? For some, it may be a lack of skill in wrestling, so you would practice setting up take downs with striking. Or maybe someone always likes to counter with a certain punch, so you practice over and over feinting a certain strike to set the conditions you can get your opponent to react to, and you use that opportunity to your advantage. In a real estate negotiation, do you unknowingly show your cards? Or choke in a negotiation when you were about to get the numbers you wanted but you didnt read the other parties cues? Have you practiced over and over how to pitch a sale or a purchase? Reviewed your personality and worked on the areas of your business that arent strong? If you are great at building rapport in person, stop trying to close the sale on the phone. Get to the house or meet up with the other party. If you arent very familiar with a particular type of deal, dont try to negotiate it immediately without all the information. Call a friend or mentor who KNOWS and does those types of deals. Work through how to do it. Sometimes its better to pass on an opportunity if you cant understand it rather than say YES and then get into a deal or property you dont understand. Related:From Wholesaling to Hoarder House Flips: 17 MUST-Read Real Estate Investing Success Stories Principal 4. There is No Replacement For the Real Thing When I first started training, my coach Trey and I worked on throwing a few basic punches and kicks. He would call out the numbers, and then I would be expected to throw or kick that punch. At first, we would do single punches or small combinations of just one or two together. We worked constantly on refining the way I threw a punch. The way my body or head moved as I threw a right hand, or a left. I distinctly remember him saying, Soon Ill throw out five or 10 different things together and you will just do it. At the time, more than a few combinations would literally break me mentally, and Id have to slow down or have him repeat these many times over. It was exhausting. But over time, it became second nature to throw or punch. Trey could help me refine a punch while working on multiple other things at the same time. There is NO replacement for putting in the work, for doing the reps. At this point, I am reasonably effective sparring against some of the amateurs in our gym. Its a constant process of refinement, practice, and DOING the work. You cant replicate the speed and timing of sparring in a live situation. Thats why we practice reps, scenarios, and combinations, over and over. In my business, Ive completed hundreds of real estate transactions over more than a decade and negotiated tens of million of dollars of real estate deals. Im well compensated coaching other real estate investors who want to grow as leaders and operators in the single-family space. BUT, to this day I still study, grow, learn new tactics, timing, realizations, breakthroughs, and opportunities in every transaction. The learning is constant and comes with time and experience. AND, with continuous work on your craft. You have to operate at real speed. In real deals. With real money and opportunity at stake. Principal 5. Have a Killer Team in Your Corner This weekend, James will have an incredible group of people around him. They are there not only to get him safely through his weight cut, but to make sure he is hydrated and his nutrition is on point. Theyll help him keep his head in the game and not go stir crazy. They will train with him and keep him sharp without getting him injured prior to the fight. When it comes time for the fight, the corner will call out things they see in real time. Like what the opponent is doing, what combinations to throw, how to get out of a nasty spot against the cage, and opportunities he may not see in the moment. Youre corner literally has your back in the midst of a fist fight. Having this level of trust and confidence in your corner isnt just a given. Its learned and earned. It comes over time. And with experience and practice. Does what they tell you makes sense? Do you understand it? And can you can effectively do it in the moment? It has to work together seamlessly. This has so many direct similarities to real estate. Not sure on the value of that project? You call a realtor you trust. Or if the title is clean, you go to your title company to do the research. In my business, my partner is so much better at the tracking of money and figuring out follow up systems. If Im not sure what to do in a situation, or how to implement an idea, I go to him. My team in our construction, sales, and acquisitions. My business partner. Close mentors and friends in the real estate world Ive built relationships with over time. Our title companies, contractors, attorneys, inspectors, and appraisers, that weve worked with time after time. This is MY real estate CORNER. Final Thoughts First, Get some, James! Lets go! You inspire me on the level of training, dedication, mastery, skill, and success in your sport. Im in your corner, and Ill be screaming and yelling for your success this weekend. Second, if youve made it this far, dear readyWHO do you have in YOUR corner? Where are the gaps? What are you missing in your life, your business, your MMA game? Do y0u need more or different people in your corner? Are you cutting corners in your success? Or are you putting in the work? And do you have the team around you helping you get better, who has your back, but who also can call out what they see even if its about YOU? Its time to take action with the warrior spirit. Apply that level of effort, level of tactics, emotion, and repetitions, and get after it.

What tips do you have for getting after your goals? Share them in the comments below! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/tackling-life-warrior-spirit

0 notes