#she's sunlight. he's home. both found in each other what they otherwise don't have. i cry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tipsydipsydo · 4 years ago

Text

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other!

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!)

[Links]:

▪My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV *

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets?

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach.

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager.

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams.

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

"It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house.

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work.

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips.

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

288 notes · View notes

porrokin · 4 years ago

Text

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

#writing #first chapter #story #storytelling #english story #fantasy #non acnh #mine

12 notes · View notes

aureatesvn · 4 years ago

Text

Economy//Jaebeom

Content: humour, fluff(?) if you squint

Model!Jaebeom has never been so confused.

Or,

An avid display of the frustrations of the rich (and supposedly famous).

People came and went like clockwork, each individual blurring into a mass flow of luggage and sweatpants and crying children, lord save him from the crying children. The airport was just a disaster waiting to happen, but he found an awkward kind of comfort in the timeless feel of the place. It was the same routine every time, arrive a few hours early, pass through security, don his trusty bucket hat and find somewhere to wait. With a book, preferably. This time was no different, aside from the… minor intrusion.

It had been less than an hour since he'd made himself comfortable in his isolated corner of the seating area, it was a nice spot and he was quite proud of himself for finding it, to be honest. He'd scoured almost a quarter of the airport (the quarter he was confined to), and it had taken exactly 38 minutes, but he'd eventually gravitated towards the large windows where the morning sunlight was streaming in from. A few moments later, he'd snagged the perfect spot. It was sort of a treasure-hunt type game to him, and he'd undeniable succeeded.

Unfortunately now he was feeling dozy, the warmth of the sun warming him, and the ebbing of people passing by allowing him some peace. It was the perfect setting for a nap, and he'd all but given up on trying to focus on his book. He needed a cold drink, which meant he had to go find a cold drink… He surveyed the area for any nearby cafés or bars, and was left with a single option he could make out if he squinted into the distance, that's where he'd have to go then.

With a resigned sigh, he started collecting his things, unwilling to part with his spot, when a brilliant idea struck him. Possibly the best idea he'd had in his entire life, really.

He returned the things to their original places, jacket across the back of the chair, bag (which he'd taken his phone and wallet out of) planted decisively on the seat. He considered leaving his hat as well, but eventually decided that was a step too far, and stepped back to assess his work.

Well, the seat was indisputably taken, and anyone who would argue otherwise was either blind (in which case he'd happily offer up the seat anyway), or specifically looking to cause trouble. He possibly could have worried a bit more about theft and such, but as it was, he took it as a test of the upstanding airport security and didn't think much more of it.

Happy with his spot secured, he smiled to himself and ambled his way to the café, peering back every so often to check no one was getting too close to his place. He had one or two stares at how he was forced to angle his head in a rather ostrich-esque way, but it was most definitely worth it. Eventually he was too far away to see, and focused on getting his drink and getting back as soon as possible.

He was halfway back with his lime soda when he saw it. Actually, he'd seen it a bit before then, but had been in denial about the rather horrible turn of events, and so hadn't quite believed his eyes. He most definitely believed them now. As he drew closer, the scene he was nearing didn't get any less horrifying. In fact, when he was close enough to feel the need to cautiously side-step his way to his belongings, it was decidedly more awful than he'd anticipated from a distance.

There was someone right there.

Not on his chair, his things were still perfectly in place, untouched, but at the uncomfortably close distance of the very-next-seat along, there was a person. And all their things.

He stood over his seat, trying to process the events that led up to this, not quite fully understanding how the obviously taken seat hadn't deterred this female (he thought she was female, at least) from making herself at home in the 2 seat radius surrounding the chair. Least of all, what had prompted her to sit right next-

'Is there a problem?'

Yes yes yes yes yes absolutely, please leave.

'Sorry?' was all he could choke out.

She was looking up at him, but somehow managed to be looking down her nose, and he had enough sense in him to recognise she felt rich. Or maybe it was her small(ish) collection of branded items. Fendi? Jackson would have a field day.

'I asked if there was a problem? I don't appreciate being ogled at.'

He was at a loss for words, he hadn't expected her to be so… brusque. Usually strangers at the airport interacted with a stilted politeness, lots of half-bows, please and thank yous, maybe she didn't get the memo? Taking a sip of his lime soda, he noted that Saint Laurent was also present within her collection. How ironic.

'Ah, no, I wasn't looking at you, these' he gestures to his bag, 'are my belongings…'

He's not quite sure what he was expecting, but whatever it was, it absolutely wasn't for her to look possibly more offended than she had been before he'd spoken. Maybe she'll move if I upset her enough?

As he half heartedly checks himself for thinking such a thing, she swivels her head back and forth between him and his things, the sunlight glinting off of her hair.

'They're,' she points at his seat, 'yours?'

She points at him, disbelief written across her face. They stay like that in silence for a few moments, at an impasse.

He coughs awkwardly and takes another sip.

'Yes…?'

At this point he's thinking it maybe wasn't worth it, and it would be easier for him to just find a different spot, without the oddly confrontational scenery.

'Are you sure?'

He chokes on his lime soda. Through spluttering and coughing and the highly unpleasant burning (fizzing) at the back of his throat, he resolutely decides he's not letting her chase him away from his spot. He got there first anyway.

Fighting mindset truly in place, he sets her with a condescending smile, and drawls out his question like he would to address a rather irritating child.

'You don't believe that the bag and jacket that I put on that chair, walked over to collect, and said were mine are… mine?'

He sees the realisation dawn on her, and fights the urge to laugh (not because he wanted to be polite, but because his throat was still tingling and he was sure he'd end up coughing again if he laughed at her). She pouts and waves a manicured hand between them, shaking her head.

'No, no, it's just people travelling... economy… tend to…y'know...have...'

People travelling eco- What?

He blinks at her, once again unsure what to say.

'WAIT- Not- Not that economy is a bad thing or anything, that's not what I meant-'

A part of him is relieved that there are obviously people out there who are far worse than him at meeting strangers. The other part of him is bitter that he had to meet one of them. He's certain the ice in his soda has melted at this point, and curses her for (if nothing else) leaving him with a diluted room-temperature drink.

'Look, I'll just take my things and-' he spots a relatively empty block across the seating area from them, and gestures to make sure she sees. She blinks up at him owlishly, as if waiting for him to go, and he sighs tiredly. The polite thing to do is to offer to move instead.

After approximately 15 seconds, he gives up, collects his jacket and bag, and trundles over to the less sunny, less quiet, and overall less comfortable seating block.

He spends the next two hours trying to lose himself in his book, checking the flight status and complaining to the guys about the awful encounter.

At roughly 11:45 he finally hears the boarding announcement,

Flight KE418 to Seoul will be boarding shortly, please proceed to gate 117.

And by some sheer luck, he finds himself at the very front of the queue when the man at the desk starts checking passports and boarding passes.

He practically skips his way down the corridor to the plane, buzzing with excitement. He's almost home. The flight attendant smiles at him, checks his pass and escorts him to an aisle seat, and when he takes off his hat to push back his hair, there's a barely noticeable twitch of her lip to show that she recognises him before she disappears to attend to another passenger.

He sinks into his seat, browsing movie options on the monitor, and is just about to put headphones on when he hears it.

'Oh, thank you, sorry, this seat? Thanks…'

That voice did not go with that meek tone at all.

He looks up to see her nervously shuffling down the right-hand aisle, and slowing down when the attendant does, one seat ahead. Please no, let me have my flight in peace, lord if you have any mercy…

'This is seat 04, if you have further requirements or any issues, just let us know.'

As it turns out, the lord didn't have any mercy free today.

He takes in her slight frame over the divider, made to look smaller by her hunched shoulders and clasped hands, before realising she's not yet sat down because she's been staring at him. Great, now all he had to do was figure out if she recognised him because she'd chased him away earlier, or because she'd seen his face in a magazine. Or both.

He decides to take initiative, and smile politely at her, bowing his head. She's already slowly turning a deep pink and, somewhere in the back of his head, he thinks she's quite cute when she's flustered.

With that thought, he decides he's in a good enough mood to tease her, and acknowledges that there's no way she won't have recognised his clothes (if not his face) from earlier.

'So, economy huh?'

#got7 hyung line #im jaeboem #got7 jaebeom #jaebeom imagines #got7 imagines #got7edit #got7 #jb imagines #got7 jb

25 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

Text

Lonely Stranger

Word Count: 1,340 (+ lyrics- in bold italics) Character: Ryan Brenner A/N: This was a real damn treat for me to write, as well as an agonizing experience. I’ll explain a little more. Title of this drabble and lyrics used belong to Eric Clapton, not Ryan Brenner or I... and if you haven’t heard the song, please listen before, during or after you read this.

(ARTIST APPRECIATION SUBMISSION)

Happy Sunday everyone! I am so pumped to share this next submission for the fanart appreciation event, for many reasons. First of all, the art itself is literally breathtaking. The incredible attention to the smallest of details in this not only show how badass this artist is, but perfectly mirror Ryan’s attention to the little things. The moment that I got this submission from @something-tofightfor to write for the piece that @gollyderek did that was inspired by Neon Lights, I just about exploded with excitement. First of all, Neon Lights is my favorite piece of fanfiction on this or any plane of existence. If you haven’t read it you absolutely have to. Secondly, Laura’s artwork for it was and still is my happy place because it so perfectly depicts the magic of the moment that reader first sees Ryan. In fact, it makes lots of people’s days better, Laura. When she submitted this request, Rachael told me that this artwork makes her happy even on bad days.

So the chance to write about not only a beautiful work of art, but one inspired by a beautiful work of fiction was sort of fricking amazing! I decided (with @something-tofightfor ‘s blessing, of course- Thanks for trusting me, Rachael!) to write this from Ryan’s POV.

Anyway! I could continue to gush about how talented both of these ladies are and how much both of their works mean to me, but let’s get on with it. Laura, from Rachael (and I) to you: THANK YOU FOR GIFTING US ALL WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF ART. YOU ARE TALENTED. YOU ARE APPRECIATED. YOU ARE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH. Keep fuckin shit up in the best way.

(Can you hear him singing? I can. Good Lord, I can.)

Lonely Stranger

Once his fingers began to work at the strings, the guitar in Ryan’s lap stopped being separate from him. Hunched over the body and curved around the neck, he let the faces in the small crowd that had gathered disappear and gave all of his focus to the song he was playing. While he enjoyed playing for people, even taking requests to ensure that he played things that they actually knew and wanted to hear, what he enjoyed the most about music was the way that it didn’t begin and end with just his voice or his guitar. It required more than that. Soul and memory. Joy and mistakes. Got plenty’a both.

Making music was about feeling all of these things and using them to say something through song, regardless of whether or not it was one he’d written. It was his chance to talk to people he might otherwise not get the opportunity to. Just as they slipped beneath the notes he played and the lyrics he sang, he felt himself become invisible to them. His dusty boots, stained jeans, roughly inked digits and all of the preconceived notions that they carried became muted details that mattered less and less with every pluck and pass of his fingers and thumbs, every line he belted out. Ryan became invisible enough to connect with these strangers, just enough to make them smile and keep him believing that people were better on the whole than the worst of their parts.

They didn’t mind that they’d never see him again, and the older he got and the more he traveled, he realized that he didn't either. Ryan had a few people in his life that he knew would always be a part of it- Georgie and a couple of the friends that they played with together, Virginia, even if every day it got closer to too long since he’d seen her. Cowboy, even though he was gone. Ryan’s closed eyelids wrinkled as he connected that loss to the story he was telling with his song.

I must be invisible No one knows me. I have crawled down dead-end streets On my hands and knees.

The people who knew him weren’t the ones standing in front of him as he sat perched on a milk crate suspended over the Strip. Those people were scattered elsewhere, acting as anchors for him to return to when needed, as he was to them- people who understood him, accepted him beyond what they could see and without trying to change him. Those people were few and far between, both figuratively and in miles, and Ryan had recently decided that that was for the best. He hadn’t left his home looking for someplace to settle into a new one, he’d done it to live on his own terms. It had been years since he’d met someone who had seen him beneath what they guessed about him, those guesses more often than not being wrong, so he’d stopped hoping for it.

'cause I'm a lonely stranger here, Well beyond my day. And I don't know what's goin' on, So I'll be on my way.

It was easier to just make these little connections through music, to focus on the details of the city he was in. The skyline, the way clouds gathered and the colors that they cast over the landscape, cobbled streets and gravel roads, highways and bright lights and everything that made each place he visited different from the one before. That’s why he’d chosen the life he had, regardless of what people thought, and it was easier to enjoy those things than it was to try to find another person who saw them the way that he did, saw his lifestyle as a series of intentional choices and not one of circumstantial consequence.

The desert heat hadn’t left with the sunlight, and though sweat ran in beads between his shoulder blades and left salty trails from his forehead and temples that dried on his skin before reaching his beard, he hardly noticed. He opened his eyes briefly as he played between lyrics, a few more people stepping up to join the audience, their featureless faces reflecting the colors of the neon lights that brought the city to life. Just people on vacation, checking “watch a street performer” off of their Vegas to-do list. Crinkled dollar bills and a small cache of coins littered the lining of the guitar case at his feet, and he was grateful for every cent of it because it allowed him to continue to live the life he wanted, even if it meant becoming a small detail in the scrapbooks of other people’s lives.

He blinked as a drop of sweat rolled into his eye, and shook his head to clear it without missing a beat. Opening both eyes again, Ryan expected to be met with the same cluster of strangers that he’d just seen, but where before when his eyes had been able to skim across the crowd with ease, this time they found a sticking point- a young woman standing off to the side in a simple black dress, a soft pink glow illuminating her from behind. What? Ryan’s brow wrinkled, and he gave another small shake of his head as though trying to clear a mirage from his mind.

But you were still there, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly open, body entirely still. But she’s… listening. Ryan closed his eyes, tight, and sunk himself back into the song. Doesn’t matter.

Some will say that I'm no good; Maybe I agree. Take a look then walk away. That's alright with me.

But you hadn’t heeded the warning in the song. You’d stuck around as most of the crowd dispersed, continuing on to the destinations that his presence on the bridge had delayed them from. Why? He looked down as you tossed a bill into the case, the green paper landing on the small pile of other bills but standing out starkly due to the number in the corner being much higher than any that it sat atop. Oh. That’s…

“That’s too much, you don’t have to-” he said aloud, assuming that you’d meant to slip something smaller into the case. Bringing his eyes up to yours, they locked onto something there that surprised him. Lips suddenly dry, his tongue darted out to wet them. “Please, that’s not-”

But you wouldn’t let it go, insisting that he take the tip and the praise that came along with it. You didn’t run off, having checked a box and eager to check another, but stepped aside as he briefly thanked those that did have somewhere else to be. You stayed through another song- one he’d written- watching and listening with the same look on your face, closer now, the curve of your cheek and the tip of your nose highlighted by the yellow orange glow of a different set of lights. She’s… he thanked the couple in front of him, giving them a genuine smile and telling them to have a nice evening, but he was still stuck on your eyes. She’s stunning but I...it... When you’d overheard him answer someone else’s question of what his name was, you hadn’t waited for him to introduce himself to you before using it yourself, and when you did he could feel the way that his own eyes lightened, smiling from the unexpected way you’d maintained the connection that others so easily dropped the second the last note faded.

Close enough now to see even more than he’d been able to before, Ryan realized what had made you different, even if he couldn’t fathom how he knew it. She’s been lonely, too. Knows it's not all bad, bein’ alone. It wasn’t sadness in your eyes that gave that away, it was clarity. Damn. But instead of looking for a way to cut it off, Ryan held onto the connection that the two of you shared, offering to play a song of your choosing.

To him, your choice had only confirmed what he didn’t know how he knew about you. The odd comfort and jarring change of being seen, even if just for the length of a few songs adding to the list of things he’d add to the guitar, to his voice: Soul and memory. Joy and mistakes.

And this… no matter what category tonight falls into.

And now I am going to go cry about how much I love Ryan Brenner and this perfectly frozen moment in time that @gollyderek captured from @something-tofightfor ‘s beautiful words. SWOON and SIGH. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it even if it made me nervous AF and choosing a song for Ryan to be singing was more difficult than it should have been. Thank you a million times to all of you fabulous artists! If you are an artist in the Ben Barnes fandom, or you want to surprise an artist with a quick drabble based on their art, send me a message and link me to the posted artwork. Let’s show these talented folks how much we appreciate them and the things that they create!

#ben barnes fanart appreciation #ben barnes fanart #ben barnes character fanart #gollyderek #something tofightfor #neon lights #ryan brenner #ryan brenner fanart

22 notes · View notes

all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 6 years ago

Text

Awkward ~ Embry Call

A/n: I love this one, it makes imprinting feel so natural aw :’) Unfortunately because there's so much information already given to this character I decided to just make her an OC. Too much I had to apply to her to make this an x reader :/

Additionally: Should I make a part two? If it's not requested I won't do it but I could if y'all really wanted me to. Okay peace out ✌🏼

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: Angst. A lot of angst. Some fluff too :) You know the regular stuff.

Faceclaim: Michelle Rodriguez

MASTERLIST

As long as Embry Call and Quil Ateara had been friends, Quil's sister Nina and Embry had been an interesting pair. Quil thought his sister endlessly annoying and often attempted to exclude her from anything and everything they did together. The problem was, she was stubborn and often liked to do things just to because she was told not to- especially if it meant annoying her brother. They were twins, similar in looks and family but also in personality. The Ateara twins were both loud mouthed and goofy and playfully aggressive- they'd been rough housing and arm wrestling and shoving and tripping each other so often for so long that even before they were wolves everyone used to joke they were like playful pups rolling around in the dirt. Embry got along with both of them and Quil hated it.

People always joked that Nina and Embry would grow up and get married but neither had even considered it in a serious way. Not even dating or kissing or even crushing on each other. The two just clicked, friendly and familiar right off the bat. When Quil was absent at school, in a bad mood, sick, or otherwise busy, Embry spent the time with Nina. The one time they'd both been unavailable had been such a sucky, boring day that Embry was glad he had Nina as a back up for Quil's off days.

There were little moments, though. Tiny things that threw them off of the casual friendship they both secretly held so dear.

One example was when they were thirteen. Nina had been asked to a dance so she'd gotten all dolled up and waited outside her house for the boy's mom to pick him up. Except he never came. Quil finally came outside and told her to come in. It was Embry who had been able to convince her though. The boys paused their hang out that night to cheer her up, Em and Nina cuddling on the couch as Quil was unavailable while he made snacks and picked the perfect movie. When it was time for bed Nina had fallen asleep so Embry decided ti just sleep with her since she was on top of him and Quil shrugged and walked away.

Another example, when they were ten, was when Embry was riding his bike and hit a rock, scraping the crap out his knees and hands. Quil complained loudly while Nina jumped into action immediately, smoothing Embry's hair out if his face to make sure he was okay, kissing him on the cheek like her mom did to her when she needed comfort. Embry found jumself blushing at the contact, not sure if the reaction was from her kiss or the adrenaline rushing through his system. She then proceeded to patch him up with the home made first aid kid she had packed in her backpack when they had headed off. She let him grab her arm as she cleaned out the scraped, shooting him apologetic, soft expressions every time he hissed when it stung a little too much. She had been so gentle and caring and attentive that even at such a young age, he watched her for a few seconds after she finished. She was so familiar and comforting... That held up years after.

When they were fourteen, Embry's girlfriend broke up with him because she was moving and they didn't want to date over s long distance. Embry had been distraught and only Nina had been able to calm him down and bring him comfort. She was with him every step of the way as he came to terms with losing her and moving on. It was easier than he had expected it to be with Nina around. With Nina's smile, that reminded him of sunlight, and Nina's laugh that sounded like home.

When they turned sixteen Embry had pretended to be Nina's boyfriend to make an annoying boy with a huge crush on Nina go away. It had almost been too easy but when the boy left, deterred, and Quil had spent the rest of the day groaning and whining about how weird and gross it was and how they'd ruined his birthday (he'd mostly been joking- he just thought the idea of his best friend and his sister dating was majorly weird), they'd brushed off the sparks and tingles and the thread that seemed to pull them towards each other again and again.

Later that year though, Embry would get sick. Nina would be by his side, mothering him just like she always was. His mom didn't need the help but she let Nina in every day after school anyway because despite what the two kids believed, there were some things moms knew that kids didn't and this was one of those things. Nina and Ms. Call would make him soup and the trio would watch movies, often joined by Quil as well. Quil came less and less though, slowly coming ti terms with the same realization that Embry's mom had had. Nina would bring Embry his homework and they did it together. Nine would play with his hair to make his headaches go away and take his temperature and far too often have to change the wet rags she gave him to put on his skin to try and cool down his ridiculous temperature. He always refused to go to the hospital and Nina and his mom didn't force it because any doctor would he as boggled by the numbers as they were. Despite the heaviness of feeling so helpless, Nina was there every step of the way...

Until she wasn't anymore.

Embry played no games. First it was his mom telling her she couldn't come in. Sam Uley had come over the night before and now he had come back and Embry and him had been out all day. He was better but Sam had been very strict about him having no visitors until they were sure. After a few days of Embry going completely AWOL even with Quil and Jake - no calls or visits or letters or texts; NOTHING - Quil went over. He came back saying that Embry didn't want to hang out with them anymore.

"He looked me right in the eyes and said he didn't want to be friends anymore." He looked at Jake and Nina. "With any of us." After extensive questioning from the other two he finally admitted, "He was different. He'd cut his hair off, super short, and he was taller. Like way taller. I don't know it looked like'd he'd been working out- and- and he had some sort of tattoo..."

The trio was silent for a second but they all knew what had happened. It had happened before. "Sam," Jake seethed. That was the only clarification anyone needed.

And so there was three.

Working together they managed to eradicate Embry from their memories, banding together to close their wounds with force and put on smiles and keep going with the same ease their ex friend seemed to be using. They were doing very well, even when things got more serious between Jake and Bella. They became a quad again, Bella slipping into Embry's place even if she didn't even begin to fill it the same way.

Then Jake got sick.

He seemed the same kind of sick Embry had been but they all brushed it off and Nina showed up to take care of him, Quil accompanying him this time. Jake swore again and again that it wasn't like what it had been with Embry. He wasn't going anywhere near Sam Uley and his gang. Ever. Just as they were assured, Sam paid Jake a visit. First no visits, then no calls. Then dodging and lying and avoiding until Nina pulled Quil to her one day, needing his comfort. Suddenly Bella was gone too and it went from four to three to four again, straight down to two. The twins were distraught for weeks, but they always took comfort in each other.

And then Quil got sick.

Nina was silent as death as she took care of him. They exchanged no words about it ever, not trying to make jokes as the very real fear sat forever present in the house. It was the exact same sickness Jake and Embry had both had. The fever was unmistakable.

When Sam Uley came to visit, Nina refused to let him in. "Nina you need to let me in."

"NO!"

A sigh. "Nina please, there are things you don't unders-"

The door flew open and Sam stepped back, startled by the fire and ice swirling in her eyes as she experienced wrath and agony at the same time. "You've taken EVERYONE FROM ME!" Her face was so twisted that Sam didn't even try to stop her, knowing she needed to get it out. "You took E-" She still couldn't say his name. She whimpered, blinking and then skipping the rest of te letters. Sam's face softened, only sorrow manifesting. "You took Jake, and Bella. You can't take Quil from me! HE'S ALL I HAVE! I WON'T LET YOU!" He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. She blinked and her tears began falling. "Please," she croaked, her voice hoarse and weak and cracking with emotion. "Please don't take him away too."

Sam was truly regretful. "I'm sorry Nina. It's not something I can control." And then he brushed past her into the house and while she waited outside, frozen and terrified as there was conversation inside that she could not hear. Her mother was at work so she was alone when Sam returned outside after a long time to see her in the exact place and position he had left her. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"I'm sure you will," Nina seethed. Sam sighed before leaving.

Nine was gone when he came the next day and she avoided Quil for a while, eyes still hopeful even though she was terrified to see him and know for sure. When she ran into him as she was headed in and he was headed out, she froze. They locked eyes and she took in his sheered hair and exposed torso. He was taller and leaner, more muscular. He had a tattoo ok his shoulder and her eyes watered. "Nina-" he began. She pushed passed him into the house, desperate to avoid whatever he had to say to her in excuse or reason or apology.

And so she was alone.

She stayed alone for a long time. She watched her brother and friends get along just fine without her, bonding with Jared Cameron and Paul Uley, forever under Sam's rule. She saw them at school and at parties and at the beach. It was too painful so she started to avoid them. If she wasn't hidden in the confines of her house she was hiking or sitting on the beach. She had taken drawing up as a hobby and though she wasn't great at it at first she picked it up pretty well. She became quiet, wearing grey and black hoodies to blend into the background. Quiet and invisible. The boys wouldn't admit it but they could always see her and every time their gazes landed on her, they each grew silent and somber.

Nina was quiet and lonely and a cliche edgy art kid now, but her grades kept up. It kept her busy while she drifted through an otherwise empty schedule. She couldn't go to parties and she didn't have friends so she turned to homework to eat up her time. For a long time it was like that.

Then Victoria made the newborns.

Nina missed a day of school due to a fever. And then another. She got suspended after getting in a fight with a kid in the hallway who had pushed her a little too far and the entire week she was gone she spent attached to her bed. She wasn't sick really. She was angry and incredibly hot- like her blood had turned to fire. Her mom was worried about it and when Quil asked what was going on and she told him, he recognized the symptoms and went to Sam immediately, filled with hope. Just like he always did, Sam went to the Ateara house one night to visit Nina. This visit didn't go anything like his other ones had, though.

He came to her house to see her outside, in a tank too and shorts, her hair tied in a bun as she closed her eyes, feeling the cool night on her skin as she tried to cool down. Sam sighed, approaching her. He didn't get a single word in before she sneered, "Leave."

Sam rose an eyebrow. "Nina-"

Her eyes flew open. "No." Her voice was so hard and cold that the Alpha felt threatened. He could see the aggression and the heat in her and he wanted to help. But she had known she was coming and she blatantly refused. "NO." She moved from her post on the balcony to right in front of him and he solidified his stance to seem bigger, stronger. But she had grown taller too, stronger. And she wasn't backing down. "You-" she began. Her breath came harsher, faster, and she blinked as her vision flickered oddly, the coloring different than she had ever seen the world before. "You have taken everyone," she began again, softer as she trued to compose herself. "You don't het me. You don't get to steal from me and shut me out and hurt me and then add me to your ranks." She blinked as her chest constricted and Sam reached out for her. The second his hand brushed against her skin she growled. Growled. But she was suddenly far too angry to care about that. "NO! You! YOU! You and Quil and Jacob and- and-" Her face hardened. "And Embry. You are not my family anymore! You don't get the right to worry or care about me! ANY OF YOU!" she screamed, the words garbling into something that sounded like snarls and growls more than actual human speech.

Suddenly there were people running to Sam's aid from the woods as Nina shoved him, wanting to start a fight Sam refused to engage in. Nina hunched over, eyeing the new threats. She was beginning to become more a caged animal than anything. Sam held up a hand. "Everyone back and calm down!"

That almost worked. "GOD!" Nina barked. "You follow his every word don't you? You little puppy dogs."

Paul stepped forward. "You don't know anything about us."

Nina's face twisted even more. "YOU don't know anything about ME." Her voice was low and dangerous.

Her eyes leveled on Sam and she took a step forward only to immediately be intercepted by someone. Quil. He pushed her back and began, "Nina no!" But then push set her off and she was suddenly coiling and twisting, her anger exploding as her skin itself seemed to lose purchase and slip and slide and stretch, her bones morphing into a new form. She hunched forward, her hands hitting the ground as- as paws.

Her confusion and hurt and anger changed from her new form to Sam again. She was blinded by hate and pain and all she could think was that she wanted nothing more than to tear Sam Uley to shreds. The boys turned and Nina growled as she faced down the five wolves. She would take all of them, looking them straight in the eye to communicate her vehement hatred without using the words that escaped her outside of her human form. Then her eyes met a familiar pair.

Somehow she knew it was Embry.

The world, already discolored and different, shifted and they both froze, eyes widening. There was suddenly a chord between them that tied them together, thick and undeniable. Impossible to ignore and hard to resist as it shortened, demanding them to be pulled closer.

Hearing Embry's thoughts and seeing Nina's shift, the other wolves backing off to give the two some room. Embry stumbled forward as if he was pushed but Nina collapsed in the spot she was in, her different eyes closing tightly as she hung her head. He was immediately by her side, nudging her and whining to make sure sue was okay.

Nina? Nina what's going on in that brain of yours. Please let me hear you Nina.

Hearing his voice after so long was terrible and wonderful at such intense levels that she recoiled from him. On top of that, hearing it in her head? Hearing it like she was peeking into his thoughts?

She couldn't handle it. She stood up on all fours and stumbled away from him. Her eyes were wide and her thoughts were scrambled and loud and chaotic, becoming even worse as they realized she could hear them now that she was initiated into the pack when she'd imprinted on Embry, even if she had resisted it at first. It was too much for her though and she howled, the others cringing away from her as her thoughts became hysterical bloody murder screams. She turned and ran.

After they got over the stunned shock they ran after her, causing her to run faster.

Nina stop!

Slow down!

Wait!

LEAVE ME ALONE!

They pulled back and left her alone as she asked. The further she got from them, the more it hurt her and Embry both.

She ran all night, only showing up back at the house in the morning, still in wolf form. Quil came our of their house with a folded up outfit in his hands. He offered them to her awkwardly, unsure where to go from there. She looked between him and the pile before he sighed, jogging towards the woods. She followed him, not looking over as she padded along his side. He lead her a ways in before setting the pile on the ground and then turning around and jogging back to the house. They didn't need to speak for her to know the plan he had in mind. She shifted back to human - something she'd had to work on for quite a while the previous night - and then got dressed, joining Quil back at the house. She still didn't look at him, going to pass him. He caught her arm and she went stiff. "Let. Go of me."

Quil did as she asked, deflating. "Nina-"

"No," she snapped.

Her brother watched her continue, attempting to go inside. "Sam's holding a meeting tonight. You're part of the pack. We have answers and I'm sure you have questions. Please, come?" She paused at the door. "We can be together again. You, me, Jake. Embry." She flinched at the last name as if Quil had burned her. He frowned, seeing his sister so upset. He had always been able to help her when she was upset. But she had never been this messed up and she had never shut him out so aggressively. "Please," Quil begged, his voice only a whisper.

Nina didn't look at him. "The length of my hair. Is that why you guys keep it short?" After a second, Quil hummed in confirmation. She went inside without another word and Quil sat in the steps, closing his eyes and lacing his fingers into his hair in frustration. She came out again a few minutes later but she only brushed past him, ignoring him despite him shooting to his feet and reaching out to her.

Hurt and worried and completely unsure of what to do next, Quil just headed to Sam's.

Night came and hours passed with no sign of Nina. Just as they were about to call it a loss, they all tensed as a familiar smell hit their noses. Quil and Embry were scrambling to the front door before Nina even got close enough to knock. They were surprised by the state she was in.

She seemed firmer, her eyes dark and hard and her hair cut short like Leah's, maybe a little shorter- where Leah had first cut it, maybe. She had worn it very long since the beginning of time, whining and complaining every second of even the monthly trim her mom took her to. She HATED to have her hair cut. She hated having it shorter than to her waist, loving to brush it and do it in all kinds of fun hairdo's. Now it was too short to do anything with.

She brushed past the two boys without acknowledging them except when she paused a split second when Embry's fingers brushed her arm. It was obvious she wanted to cave in and have him touch her again but she swallowed it, forcing herself to keep walking and hardening her expression. Embry and Quil followed after her. She stopped in the middle of the room, across from Sam. The two boys continued past her to Sam's side, Embry taking another chance to touch her arm as if it had been on accident. They both knew it wasn't. Sam faced her. "Quil said you had answers."

Sam nodded. "What do you know?"

"The legends are true," she stated simply. "We're shape shifters. Werewolves. Skin walkers- whatever. The Cold Ones...?"

"Vampires," Sam supplied.

Nina nodded, her face not changing. She was unreadable and even Jacob was struggling with how different she was than how he knew her to be. "Vampires and werewolves," she mused quietly. Sam nodded. "Why did I... change?"

"When more of them come, more of us awaken to combat them." When she didn't speak again, he continued. "Bella Swan. The Cullens are vampires." Nina nodded. "Newborns, new vampires, are hunting Bella down. We're not sure why yet. Bella has a thing with Edward Cullen so we're working with them to protect her." Nina rose an eyebrow but she didn't have to voice her confusion for Sam to add, "The Cullens don't eat people. As long as they feed off if animals as they promised, we don't come for them. We have a treaty."

Nina nodded again, pausing. "Am I still mortal?"

Sam softened a little as her voice became less cold. "Yes. We're still susceptible to injury and death, though we do heal VERY quickly. We can't undo what's been done and as long as you continuously shift, you don't age. If you stop shifting then you can become normal, aging and everything."

That seemed to make Nina relax a little. "And it's a choice to change? No full moon chaos?" Sam nodded. Nina's eyes shifted to Embry and her stony expression gave way to fear. "What happened?"

She hadn't meant to say it out loud but now that she had, she looked back at Sam, vulnerable. He didn't have to ask what she meant. "You imprinted on each other," he told her. She seemed confused. "It's when we find our.... other half. Soulmate is the best word we've found so far. You find someone that completes you in some way and you strive to give them anything and everything they need. A brother, a friend, a protector-"

"A lover?" Nina asked. It had slipped again and Quil coughed. She blushed.

Despite himself, Sam smiled. "A lover," he confirmed.

There was a pause as Nina looked away. She nodded once more and then turned toward the door to leave. "WAIT!" Embry called. She stopped. "Stay? Please?" She didn't respond. "I know... I know we have a lot to work out. But- please? I can't lose you again. Please."

She turned to face him, her eyes sad. "You left."

"I didn't have a choice," Embry agonized. "You can ask anyone, I've been miserable. I was so excited when we found out- maybe even more so than Quil, who was torn because he didn't want you to be like us. But I knew, I knew you'd be the most badass wolf and I've been dying to see you again." He took a step closer to her, his hands reaching for hers. She watched his fingers, now facing him even if she didn't move past that. "I wanted it to be you," he whispered. "And it is. It was always you. Please stay." Their eyes met and Nina actually managed a smile.

A sudden loud, obnoxious groan came from someone. Everyone looked over to see Quil pretending to gag. "GREAT!" he complained. "They imprinted on each other. Now I'll have to deal with the sappy thoughts while we're wolfed out. And the kissing." He rolled his eyes, his nose scrunching up.

The mood shifted instantly, Jake shoving Quil joking. "You're just jealous."

"Am not!" Quil argued. "I'm disgusted- big difference."

Nina moved to Embry's side, taking his hand shyly. They both smiled, finally standing in peace as they were finally reunited. Everyone knew where life would lead for the two, even if they didn't know the little details. Even fate knew that they were destined to fall in love. It felt so right that for a second, the time alone faded away and nothing mattered- not pain or regret or vampires or fear or danger or the chaos and danger facing. Not even Quil's loud, annoying complaints and jabs and fake gags.

Even if it would make things a little awkward...

FTL: @chipster-21 @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @wolfgirlxslytherin @justanotherdaydreamersoul

#embry call #quil ateara #twilight #new moon #eclipse #kiowa gordan #breaking dawn #wolf pack #embry call imagine #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #embry call x OC #wolf pacl x OC #kiowa gordon imagine #kiowa gordon x OC

169 notes · View notes

starbide · 5 years ago

Text

Inspiration below. The following is a work of fiction.

'Six years,' I thought to myself walking down the road. It had rained earlier that evening, but by now the clouds were long gone. The pavement shimmered in the waxing moonlight, still slick with the water of those vanished clouds. I would not slip; the road was mostly level as it lazily stretched down the gentle hill behind me, and the streetlamps cast in gold what the moon would otherwise leave dim. The world was silent.

'It's hard to believe I've been gone that long,' I continued, step by step. Six years since I'd moved away for my career. Six years since I'd left my family behind. 'Left her behind,' I smirked to myself, passing a large bush on my right. Houses stood dark and serene on either side, all daily activities complete and put to rest. No cars joined me on the waterlogged street, preferring the concrete comfort of their driveways and garages. I approached and passed under another hazy lamp.

It was cool out, a gentle breeze brushed past the wool of my jacket without raising a single goose bump. I paid it no mind; I was always a bit warmer blooded than others in my circle. My best friend for most of my school years couldn't understand my ability to wear shorts comfortably year-round. 'Those were the days,' I mused, thinking back to the last time we'd seen each other. It had to be more than a decade at this point, long before I'd moved north for work and expanded my wardrobe to include legwear longer than my knees.

I reached an intersection and paused. Four ways, no direction more enticing or foreboding than the next. A lamp at every corner, and the bus station deserted save by its sign across the diagonal. The station I'd waited at patiently every morning for that bright yellow school bus, before I'd ever met my old bestie. It was just me and one other kid, a rather scrawny looking boy who had been in most of my elementary grades but with whom I'd never really gotten on with. We'd shared classes, teachers, and the occasional pencil or marker, but never played together outside of academia. He'd moved away much longer than a decade ago. Now I was really delving into my memory, faded as it was with time.

I checked my phone: 11:57 PM in small white font. My first night back home, I should be exhausted. This wasn't my normal time zone and airplane seats aren't exactly memory foam, but I'd found a second wind after dinner and took to the night after my folks had gone to bed themselves. Sure, I'd been physically gone for six years, but we'd stayed in touch off and on since I'd left. Maybe five months back was our last video call. We'd talked about me taking this trip, now that things had settled down and my life was much more under control. Things had been wild for a while, and if all went according to plan at work things would become wild again not too far down the line. Which reminded me, I needed to make another appointment when I returned home. Couldn't go running out of my prescription again.

A brief twitch of motion caught my eye, and I peered down the leftward lane. One of the bulbs had burned out a few dozen meters down, and in this larger pool of darkness something had moved. At least I thought it had, but my eyes could be playing tricks on me with the shadows. One dark spot moving erratically through a larger, differently dark spot wasn't exactly proof of anything. But of course, my heartbeat quickened regardless. Base human instinct, I suppose. Spot a motion in the dark, prepare to act to either fight or flee.

That hallucination had triggered something else in me though. A memory, unconsciously bidden, rose up behind my eyes. That kid, the little one I'd shared a bus stop with for years, I did not recall being nice to often. Many times, I'd engaged in common teasing, and he always took it personally. A couple times he'd even cried, but I'd never gotten in much trouble for it. A different time I supposed. That sort of behavior wouldn't fly nowadays, and that's good. I felt a bit sick thinking back about it, as it was now clear I'd been a bit of a bully. What it hadn't been was a wake-up call for my parents, who didn't get me the help I had so desperately needed until much later in my teens. I was better now, better enough to see what I'd done back then was very wrong. I couldn't remember all of it, but that boy's tears had stuck with me. I wonder what happened to him?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts and calm my pulse, I opted for the path in front. This route would wind close to the park, after a couple turns beyond my current field of vision. Crossing the street, I didn't even bother looking left or right, as the night was so quiet and empty, I could hear a car coming from miles away, if there were any to hear. A rock lay in the far side gutter; I kicked it just to give my ears some stimulation. It knocked against the cement curb and bounced across puddles thin as saran wrap to a rest. By then I'd already forgotten about it and left that intersection behind.

Another thought was creeping up from my subconscious, this one more distasteful than the last. I'd left a girl behind when I moved for work, and the breakup hadn't been pleasant. She'd been very upset, naturally, and felt betrayed I was abandoning her like that. Abandoning. It had been her word, not mine, but with the clarity of distance I could see she was right. It had been years since I'd considered how we ended, and I wasn't sure what spurred those thoughts just now, but after what I'd done to her, I could accept she was right.

Still though, rounding the first turn, my leaving her should have been a good thing. Now that the floodgates of memory were open, I may as well dive right in. She'd been so hurt by my sudden departure because I'd systematically isolated her from her friends and much of her family too. She'd grown more and more attached to me, and I'd encouraged that through some particularly devilish means. I didn't know about the term 'gaslighting' at the time, but that was a polite way of putting it. I'd been very proficient at psychological manipulation back then, and my desire for control over her life could have consumed us both. At the end, she'd only had limited contact with her sister, who had been rightly concerned about her but too terrified of me to do anything to stop me. Looking back, I can't blame her. I now believe it was good that I left when I did. I hope she realized the same, though I haven't heard from her since.

Now the road turned left, arcing gradually around a thicker cluster of trees. This walk was turning out to be less relaxing than I'd hoped. The smallest things seemed to be dredging up thoughts and old memories in me, and none of them were painting me in the best light. Being my thoughts, maybe that was the best light I could possibly be presented in. Maybe their memories of me, the version of me still living in their mind, was far worse than I could imagine on this unassuming suburban night. I'd read somewhere that we're all the hero of our own story, and of course the hero never thinks they're the villain. But I'm sure that's what I am in at least a few people's stories. I'm starting to feel like the villain in my own.

Opening up ahead of me is the park, and the wide-open fields I remember so well. This area is less well lit, with streetlamps only illuminating the edges of the grass and allowing the moon to bathe the world in dead white. In reality, this is only sunlight reflected, but from the moon it feels much less like the bright star that gives this planet life. Like Luna itself, it feels cold and impersonal, like it wouldn't actively try to end my life but also wouldn't even notice if I merely faded away into the ether. I'd had some trouble with those thoughts as well over the years, before I got help. And now, rushing back to me, I remember they were also why I lost my best friend.

He and I had been out for the evening, playing some game with a few other friends. The game had ended, and we were walking home together when a car had rushed past us. Neither he nor I were injured, but it had been close and the driver had continued on recklessly. After it rounded the corner, we'd both heard a large thumping sound, followed by the rapidly diminishing roar of its engine. After a quick glance between us we'd rushed around the corner ourselves to see a big yellow dog crumpled up in the drain. Not losing a moment we hurried up to it, but we needn't have rushed. It had most likely died on impact, before we even saw it.

My friend had knelt down next to it to try and save it, even though it was hopeless. He must have known, but it's only natural to want to help another life. At least, it is for me now, and it was for him then. I remember him crouched over the dog, tears in his eyes when he accepted what happened, and then he looked up at me. His tears ebbed and his face froze in fear at what he saw, but he couldn't say anything to me at the time. We walked home in uncomfortable silence after that, and said a short awkward goodbye. Truth be told, that's the last time we spoke to each other in person.

Thinking of the next part, I felt a chill run deep into my core. I remembered now what he told me, over text message later that night. He'd bent over the dog and been so distraught because he knew it. He'd checked the tag to be sure, but it was his neighbor's dog that he'd grown up playing with. I think he'd even muttered its name a couple times, but I'm not sure. But when he looked up at me, he said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen. The look on my eyes was not maniacal, as some would think, but dead, not present. As if the dog dying had brought out a whole new face in me, as if the lights were on but nobody was home, and yet the lights still wanted to kill you. It had terrified him, and it was all he could do not to sprint from me that moment without looking back. I don't think he ever knew how right he'd been back then, something that took me years to realize and longer to overcome.

I quietly walked to the center of the field, as far from the streetlights as possible, and looked up. The moon provided none of the same dangers as the sun when staring straight at it, and I took a few moments to just gaze at it and let my thoughts sort themselves out. I'd been a monster in my childhood, a terror in my youth, before I found my doctor and we set out on a years-long journey to get me better. Any other time I'd have kept on that dangerous path, ruining some lives and possibly ending others. That had all changed, thanks to my incredible fortune and a lot of hard work, but with the clarity of hindsight I could see just how close to the precipice I'd come. How I'd always be there in the minds of childhood mates and adolescent connections. And this was just what I could remember now. There was no way for me to know how many other monstrous versions of me still lived in any number of former classmates.

In the corner of my eye, I saw another twitch in the shadows. Jerking my head down, I followed the motion to the foot of the trees, the darkest spot on the field. This time there was no mistake; there was definitely an object moving there, slowly but surely. My heartbeat shot up and my throat swelled as I bent my knees and got into a defensive posture. The object lumbered forward, moving without haste but with purpose. When it came into the light, I was surprised to see a little boy with a scratched-up shirt and messy brown hair. Standing up in confusion, I was certain I'd seen him somewhere before. Step by step, I focused on every detail I could make out in the gloom, before it hit me like the car that last night walking home.

That boy was dressed, to the letter, the exact same way I had on picture day in third grade. My hair had been an untamable brown mess, and even the cheap novelty watch was the same. I was more perplexed than anything now, as I couldn't understand for the life of me what a kid was doing in that field, at midnight, wearing clothes that weren't even made any more. That was until he spoke, and his voice froze my blood in its veins.

It was like whispers, floating around my head, and several voices all at once and all taking turns being the loudest. They were all his, but not really. His mouth had opened and his lips were framing the syllables, but it was my voice from so many years ago repeating every taunt, every tease, every foul nickname I'd ever given that scrawny boy who shared a bus stop with me. Who'd cried, not once or twice, but dozens of times. Who'd gone home often with scrapes and tears in his clothes personally inflicted by myself. I had terrorized him for years of his early life, and what I saw before me must be what I forever lived as in his memory.

But if that were true, then this kid in front of me couldn't be real. I had to be hallucinating again, I must have been more exhausted than I'd allowed myself to feel. He sure looked real, though, and his footsteps were matting the grass in a way I didn't trust my mind to make up. But the ghostly, strangled voices of my younger self crashing in waves into my ears gave the entire scene a surreal feeling, making the hair on the back of my neck stick up like electricity. I couldn't bring myself to step away, and I sure as hell wasn't going to walk forward to meet him. It. Whatever it was I was seeing, real or not.

Only a few meters away, he stopped moving. Swallowing bile, I could do little more than watch him as the voices continued to echo in my ears, unchanged by his distance all this time. Then I spotted another motion far off to my right, and then a third to my left. Glancing quickly between them, I determined that they were both noticeably older than the child before me, one by a few more years than the other. They too walked slowly towards me, bringing their own voices to the forefront. Despite the dozens of voices I now thought I was hearing, every word registered clearly in my mind. One was speaking about my old best friend and the dog, the other repeated every lie I ever told my ex-girlfriend before leaving. As if their mere presence in my eyes were not enough, hearing my old, hateful words repeated to me in my own voice almost made me vomit with fear and disgust.

They too, stopped approaching me at the same distance as the child. As they did, dozens more similar hallucinations emerged from the trees and surrounding neighborhood, all carrying their own chorus of hate and venom and bringing back new, abhorrent memories of my youth. Terrorizing a girl in my 4th grade class. Catching squirrels in my early teens and setting them on fire, then getting caught myself. Giving that kindergartner a major concussion on a dare, after my best friend had ceased speaking to me. Even one similar in age to myself now, though he brought words of loss and failure, and of betrayal to my parents. That must have been right before my breakthrough, with the doctor and an early test version of my current prescription. I was better now. I had to be. But why was I seeing all of this, all of these versions of me locked in the minds of everyone who I'd left behind in my life? My trail of destruction?

They had all stopped walking now, forming a tight semicircle around me. The voices still buzzed in my ears, but slowly they faded to an indistinguishable babble. I tried to speak, but my throat had caught a bubble, so I gulped fruitlessly and closed my mount again. The thoughts racing through my mind had no similar handicap, as my mind shouted repeatedly the same things. Who are you all? Why is this happening? What are you doing to me?

The version of me who gaslit my girl took a couple steps forward, as if presenting himself as the leader. I had no time to process what this might mean before he spoke, in a much clearer form than any of these hallucinations had yet. "We are you. We are you that you left behind, trapped in the minds of those you hurt, frozen in time from the moment you left us years or decades ago. We have had no life to live, no chance to grow and thrive, no possibility to leave the prisons of mind which you left us in, being tortured again and again by those you tortured without remorse and without recompense. We cannot sit by from behind our bars as you continue to enjoy the life you stole from us all."

"I didn't know I was doing this!" I cried, finally able to break the blockade in my throat. "I was a monster, I know that well now, and I've spent years trying to recover from the damage I've done!" I felt foolish, yelling out into the night at visions only visible to myself. 'All this work, all this progress,' I cried to myself. 'This will set me back months if not more, and I can only hope my medication doesn't fail like I have.'

The same me looked down at the ground and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but you must know how little that matters to us. You've lived a life of freedom from any repercussions and locked us away to suffer in your place. You've flaunted that fact with your precious medical tools and until tonight, hadn't even remembered us or what you did to torture and imprison us. We are here now for the life that you stole from us, to end the torture you sentenced us to and walked away from yourself unscathed." He took another step forward, his face growing menacing.

"I don't know what that means," I cried, shaking my head as the tears started to drop. This was starting to feel all too real, and fear was expanding like a balloon deep into my core. "I don't know what any of this means. What do you want from me!?"

Another step. "We want your life," the gaslighter said mirthlessly. "We all want your life, the life wrongly denied us time and time again. And you will learn what it means to be ripped apart and put back together, over and over again. Tortured yourself for what you did to so many people in your life. You gave us to them to burn, to break, to grind down into dust and be restored only to do it all over tomorrow. You tortured them, and then you gave them us to work their revenge on, day after day with no hope of an end. And the most unforgivable of all was giving the youngest of you away to feel this pain the longest. Over two decades have the youngest of us been taken to pieces, shattered in mind and body and soul for your carelessness and your fleeting experiments in sociopathy. This will end tonight."

I could say nothing, the terror burning white on my face. If this was a hallucination, it was the worst one I'd ever had and I had no idea how I'd survive it. It was far too realistic, far too deadly for me to think of anything else, any of the tricks and tools my doctor had given me. What had happened to cause this? I swear I never missed a day on my prescription, and these memories... Where had they all been before? Why had I not been able to recover them and work through them with my doctor? Were they even real? Was this me, standing only a meter away now, real? Or was he only real in my mind, and if he wanted to hurt me would that distinction make a difference? I reached out my hand, reaching toward his arm slack against his torso...

And he reached out and took my wrist like a vice. Ice cold and unflinching, he held my arm up in front of me and closed the gap between us imperceptibly fast. "You may have many regrets. I have only one," he said in a low, bloodthirsty voice. "While there are dozens of us gathered here, dozens you sentenced to eternal damnation without a second thought, only one of us may live this life. I may not be the youngest of your victims, I may not give you the longest time in the torture you gave us, but I intend to fight with everything you have put me through these long years. Your life is mine."

As he growled in my face, a white-hot streak of terror shot through me and I pushed him back with almost reflexive strength. He staggered, rebalanced, then looked at me with cannibalistic hunger in his eyes. He panted twice, then screamed and lunged at my neck. With adrenaline now coursing through me, I turned and sprinted away from the gathering, hearing the pounding of footsteps deep in my brain. He had grabbed my arm. I glanced at it as I reached the sidewalk and saw a chalk white handprint etched into my grayish skin. The urge to vomit came back, but I managed to fight it down as I kept up a faster pace than I'd ever run before. The swarm of my past, tortured selves was hot on my heels, like starved dogs following fresh game. Any loss in my speed and I'd be eaten alive, or worse. I truly did not know what would happen if they caught me, and my mind was too far gone to even entertain the idea of hallucinations any more.

I rounded the next curve and thought the sound of the pack was a little quieter than before. It still sounded like pure rage and bloodlust, but with fewer voices than before. Thinking it was only a few stragglers being blocked by the trees, I kept up the fastest pace I could, not even feeling my feet hit the ground. Another hundred meters of straightaway and it was definitely growing less loud with each step. The roar was diminishing, no trees to hide the sound now, but it was still a roar. By now a cramp had begun to grow in my stomach, and no matter what I did I felt myself losing speed. Every few steps I could burst forward faster again, but I couldn't maintain the same rocket pace as before. To my ears, though, as my speed gradually fell, so did the volume of my pursuers. By the time I got to the intersection, it only sounded like a couple of me were still hunting, and I could count their individual footsteps. It was at this time I chanced a look behind, just to know what was still coming.

Right on my neck was him, the gaslighter. He grinned at me, his face less than a meter away. I felt that same shock explode throughout my body and I shot forward, faster than before if possible, fully terrified again now that I knew he and he alone was here for me. I kept running and running, past houses, lanes, and bushes. Still no signs of life from any houses, no cars rumbling down the road or creaking into place in a driveway. The night was as empty and uncaring as before, and only myself and the predator I had been broke the gentle midnight breeze. My legs thundered on, screaming in pain in their own way, but I didn't stop or look back again until I'd reached my family's old house a few blocks down.

Now truly running on empty, I turned back to face my hunter, but he was gone. Disappeared. Evaporated into the night, nowhere to be seen. The moon still hung high, reflecting some small percentage of sunlight down to me, and the streetlamps bathed the road and yards in amber light. He wasn't hiding from me, he hadn't overtaken me. There was no shortcut to the house, it was a straight shot from the park. He was simply gone, faded back into the night from which he'd come without a trace. If he'd ever really been there at all, and not merely a hallucination from exhaustion or medication or... I didn't even know any more. I just knew that he was gone, just gone, just gone.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice called out to me. I jumped, but only in surprise. It was a familiar voice, but not familiar like my own. It sounded like my dad, and I heard large, calm footsteps walk toward me from our front door.

"Yeah," I said, although it was little more than a whisper. I buckled over, fell to my hands and knees, and felt the cramps and burning in my lungs catch up to me as the adrenaline faded away. I felt like vomiting, for the third time that night, but this time it was easier to fight the urge than before. I got some deep breaths in as I panted on the ground, slowly but surely recovering from my insane dash moments before.

My dad walked up in front of me, wearing the same well-worn brown leather shoes he'd owned since before I left. I didn't want to worry him about this night, and what I thought I saw in the park. Not when my recovery was going so well. Not when a lapse like this would mean months of work just to get back to where I was only an hour ago. "I'm okay dad, I just went for a walk. Then I saw how late it was and tried to get back as fast as I could. I guess I'm not the athlete I used to be, eh?" I tried to lift my head up to give him a weak smile, but still couldn't raise it much higher than his waist

He chuckled softly, and sounded a little strange. Still sleepy maybe, I guess I woke him up coming back here, and maybe I was screaming too. I don't know any more, I don't know what was real any more. But he knelt down in front of me after I dropped my head again, still exhausted, and said, "That's okay sport, I think we both know your real talents weren't on the field. I learned that lesson very well over the past six years."

#horror #creepypasta

1 note · View note

kclenhartnovels · 5 years ago

Note

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻-(obvi u don't have to do em all)-🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

119 flowers, Lisa. 119. You think I won’t answer all of these? You’re a fool. I’m a fool. I’m going to answer all of them, and they’re all going to be Wolf at the Gates related so I can break your heart again. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. I’m putting it all beneath the cut so that not everyone has to suffer through this. Just you, Lisa. Suffer with me.

🌻 Here we go. Let’s go. First of all, WatG is about 18 years old. It’s older than most of tumblr. That being said, I found a fun game someone else did that has first and last lines of characters, so I’m gonna do that with the major players:

🌻 T’ke: “T’ke” and “I haven't lost it yet.”

🌻 Medvetis: “What has this man done?” and “Isthe, don't.”

🌻 Isthe: Is mute, has no dialogue

🌻 Constantine: “I don’t recognize him.” and “Long live the King.”

🌻 Delgos: “You’re supposed to be socializing, Con—my Prince. I’m not sure your father would be pleased about—” and “May the stars guide his spirit.”

🌻 Alastair: “Just a few words. Can you spare the time?” and “I am sorry, but we will have to bind your wrists, in order to maintain appearance.”

🌻 Samantha: “Sir Alastair Lobane, am I right?” and “Well, that could have gone worse.”

🌻 Valerian: “Mine ran off when I was attacked.” and “Away with you, rogue, before I lose my composure entirely.”

🌻 Kamin: [Not counting songs, because his first and last lines are actually both songs] “Any requests, my Lord?” and “If you would allow it.”

🌻 Jinx: “Pitiful crowd tonight.” and “Anger is all I have left, Delgos. Don't try to take that from me, too.”

🌻 Ashleigh: “Oh, I can hold my own. Why do you ask?” and “Stay in here to sleep tonight, otherwise the men will raid your bags for scraps.”

🌻 Silas: “Only one word? From Valerian? I didn’t think it possible.” and “Dismissed. Both of you.”

🌻 Aashiq: and “Safe journey, little cousin. Don't lose that bright head of yours.”

🌻 Tallest character: Ash, followed by Medvetis

🌻 Shortest character: Kamin, though narrowly, and of course Constantine is next

🌻 Most popular: Valerian

🌻 Least popular: Silas

🌻 Smartest: T’ke

🌻 Dumbest: Isthe is the least educated, but Con is the biggest dumbass

🌻 Oldest: Major characters only, Valerian. Otherwise, Silas.

🌻 Youngest: Kamin

🌻 Most talkative: V a l e r i a n

🌻 Least talkative: Not counting Isthe, Alastair

🌻 Since it’s pride month, let’s talk about orientations! Main character first! T’ke: Cis, Aro/Ace (touch-repulsed)

🌻 Medvetis: Cis, Demi-romantic, asexual

🌻 Isthe: Trans, ???romantic ??sexual, canonly has sex with a woman, probably at least bi

🌻 Constantine: Cis, super gay both romantic and sexual

🌻 Delgos: Cis, panromantic, pansexual

🌻 Alastair: cis, heteromantic and heterosexual (and so in love with Samantha)

🌻 Samantha: cis, ??? but definitely in love with Alastair

🌻 Valerian: cis (but honestly more gender-flexible if he allowed himself to be), bi but in denial about it

🌻 Kamin: cis, also extremely gay

🌻 Jinx: Cis but genderflexible, aromantic, pansexual

🌻 In the original draft, Samantha’s child from the first marriage died. But there was no real reason for it, and now she and Alastair just get to keep collecting children and they’ll all star in book 3 whenever I get around to it.

🌻 The original original draft was a short story. A short story. A short story. Save me.

🌻 This story has been around so long, the good news is I’ve been able to develop a lot of the world and backstory, such as:

🌻 Three generations of Vendave Kings and what happened during their rule: Marius, Silas, and Constantine

🌻 Two generations of Cielan Kings and their rule: Antony and Kendrick (after he takes out his brothers)

🌻 Two generations of Reckson Kings: [Ash and Xav’s father which I have not named], then Xaviastriuos and Ashleigh fighting over the throne.

🌻 Tawrivers, which was conquered by Vendave during Silas’ rule

🌻 Jinx is one of my favorite characters to write because she’s so unapologetically angry, bordering on feral. She is passionate and injured, and ready to take revenge because no one else will help her and her people.

🌻 Honestly, Jinx would have joined Medvetis and company in a heartbeat, if Valerian and Alastair hadn’t given them shelter and respect first. They are the only reason she didn’t join the rebellion.

🌻 T’ke has dysthymia, and is touch-aversive due to trauma in childhood. He is also very sensitive to sunlight due to his albinism. He wears so many layers both to protect his skin from the sun, and to hide his scarring as much as possible.

🌻 Isthe is mute thanks to a dog attack in his youth, and the attack led to a high fever for many days that nearly killed him. The infection damaged part of his memory, and as a result he has trouble learning new things. This is why T’ke is never able to teach him how to write. He prefers expressive communication anyway.

🌻 T’ke also gets seasick and it cracks me up every time because he’s so annoyed by that fact.

🌻 Valerian has severe agoraphobia, and after he was harassed by bandits in the beginning of the book, he never leaves Angaroth again. Samantha goes in his stead whenever he has to represent the area.

🌻 Alastair has lung problems thanks to his town being razed when he was a child, and severe smoke damage from the fire. It gets progressively worse as he gets older, but he tries very hard not to let it affect his work.

🌻 Constantine is an excellent swordsman and a terrible horseman. He gets thrown from his horse at least twice over the course of the book. May have been three times.

🌻 He also almost dies from sickness, gets strangled twice by Isthe, trips up the stairs during a swordfight, and generally gets his ass handed to him over and over again.

🌻 The beginning of each chapter has a journal entry from T’ke. If you take them all out and read it in order, it is a singular letter of sorts explaining his feelings about the whole story.

🌻 Delgos and Alastair have a very quick bromance that stays a strong friendship to the end of the book.

🌻 Alastair is the first person that Delgos comes out to. Unfortunately, Delgos confessing his love for Constantine flies way over Alastair’s head, and the response is more or less “you’re such a good guard, of course you love your king.” Whoops. He tried.

🌻 T’ke makes a binder for Isthe so he stops bruising his ribs with bandages. It then becomes a battle to make sure Isthe takes the binder off every night to sleep so he doesn’t injure himself.

🌻 T’ke is such the mother of the dynamic trio and he would hate it if anyone points it out.

🌻 That being said, he also spends most of the book making all three of them immune to poisons by gradually introducing them all to it.

🌻 One of the things that changed very little between initial writes and editing is Valerian’s dialogue. It remains paragraphs, rambling, warm, and ridiculous. I love him.

🌻 I need to make it more clear that Delgos is mixed race from a low-ranking family, because his change from middle child of a merchant sailor to Captain of the Guard speaks a lot about him, and about how much Constantine cares for him.

🌻 Valerian has two pet deerhounds that he adores, and are never used for hunting. They just lay all over everyone in the house instead. They were a gift from some nobility, but he never leaves the house to hunt with them.

🌻 T’ke keeps a pet hawk for a good portion of the novel. Isthe is inexplicably jealous of it.

🌻 Alastair gets incredibly attached to his horses, and names all of them after flowers from his mountain home.

🌻 Aashiq is also very attached to his donkey.

🌻 Uh, let’s see. Book one is technically Medvetis’ story arc

🌻 Book two is Alastair’s arc

🌻 Book three is the next generation

🌻 T’ke’s story spans books 1 and 2. His journals cause book 3

🌻 Alastair’s sons are identical twins. Poor Samantha.

🌻 Seeing how Alastair was raised by a single man makes Constantine think very long and hard about adopting an heir rather than trying to make one by blood.

🌻 Most of the reason why Silas passed such terrible laws was because he was in love with Elophia, Kamin’s mother.

🌻 Kamin is the youngest of three. His two older sisters were taken to Tawrivers for sanctuary, but Kamin was too young to travel so far, so he was adopted by Jinx’s family.

🌻 Constantine and Kamin are about the same age, and should have been King and chief advisor if Silas hadn’t been a raging bag of dicks.

🌻 Constantine’s mother died from complications of childbirth. Silas blamed Elophia for not saving her.

🌻 Kamin was an unplanned child. They didn’t think that they could have any more children after the two girls. His name roughly translates to gift.

🌻 Which, incidentally, is what Nafal’s name translates to. Aashiq adores his son beyond all measure.

🌻 Jinx is not her real name, but it’s what she’s been called since she was a toddler, and she protects her real name as if she could some day go back to it.

🌻 Harper is Kamin’s title, not his last name. He is, after all, royalty.

🌻 Kendrick is Alastair’s cousin. There’s no accounting for family sometime.

🌻 I fixed Patience’s autonomy, and I can’t wait for her to pop back up later in book 2 or 3

🌻 At one point, Constantine accidentally breaks Medvetis’ nose.

🌻 It probably wasn’t the first time Medvetis had his nose broken.

🌻 Speaking of single dads, Medvetis was raised by one, too! His mother died from the plague that rocked Vendave and its surrounding lands when he was young, and Cohen took over teaching and protecting him. Medvetis loved his father.

🌻 Oh! Apparently I have a wealth of single dads. Valerian more or less raised his daughter alone, as his wife’s schizophrenia got so bad she confined herself to her room for fear of hurting them.

🌻 Silas theoretically raised his son alone after his wife died, but let’s be real, Silas didn’t do any raising. The servants did.

🌻 Delgos was raised primarily by his mother and older siblings; his father was at sea most of the time.

🌻 T’ke was raised by Khalid and the rest of the merchant caravan, and they ruined him.

🌻 Isthe was raised on the docks with the other street orphans, running with a group of kids and probably one or two pseudo-adults that kept them in line. I have no idea what happened to his parents, but it’s likely they died at sea.

🌻 Delgos really wants to have kids, and Constantine is slowly warming up to the idea. They will likely end up adopting later, and have the discussion about it in book 2

🌻 T’ke hates children. He actually just generally hates people.

🌻 Medvetis wouldn’t mind having kids, but he would adopt and not have them naturally. As much as he would want kids, he doesn’t want to have sex.

🌻 Isthe loves kids. He loves people. Kids usually find him weird.

🌻 Isthe is also incredibly lucky at gambling, specifically dice games. I guess it balances out his poor luck when it came to the dog attack.

🌻 Isthe isn’t his birth name! He refused to let anyone know his birth name after he was attacked by a dog; he thought someone had used it to curse him. So, he made up a new one.

🌻 Delgos has a tattoo of the Runnemede lion on his chest. (Constantine thinks it’s incredibly hot)

🌻 Isthe gets a tattoo of Medvetis’ wolf on his arm at some point.

🌻 Kamin, of course, has his stars on his cheeks.

🌻 Jinx has the stars on her neck, plus another tattoo in her lower back

🌻 In the dark!AU, Delgos has a tattoo of the Cielan dragon instead :D

🌻 Speaking of defining marks, Medvetis has freckles and it is the most adorable thing

🌻 Also defining, Jinx’s red, red hair.

🌻 Ashleigh’s full name is true Reckson style: Ashleigh en Crowenne Brighton di Reckson

🌻 Originally, Wolf at the Gates and Dragon on the Mountain were one big book named Vendave because I had no idea what to title it. One big book. Thank god I had the sense to cut it in half.

🌻 Book 3 has nothing written on it yet, and only a vague idea of what the heck I’m doing with it.

🌻 Book 2 needs major rewrites but it’s not on the next “to do” list

🌻 I have no idea what any of the characters’ birthdays are, even though Medvetis turned 18 during a battle in the book.

🌻 These dumb kids are all so young in the book, it’s no wonder they suck at everything.

🌻 That’s a lie they mostly just suck at emotional stability and the ability to compromise.

🌻 Literally half the plot would fall apart if they all just sat at a table and talked it out.

🌻 All of the plot would fall apart if Silas hadn’t been a raging bag of dicks when he was alive.

🌻 Honestly I’m so mad that he just died in his sleep. He deserved a worse death and a shorter life but unfortunately the author let him get away with all of it. Damn it.

🌻 I thought a lot about cutting all the songs in WatG, but you convinced me otherwise. And no other beta readers were bothered by it.

🌻 Have I mentioned yet that I had the best beta readers for this book? Because I had the best beta readers for this book. They were SO helpful.

🌻 I’m both tired of editing it, and very excited about editing it.

🌻 I’m debating on commissioning someone to make a map for me because I don’t want to, but the book really needs it. I have a rough sketch, but that’s it.

🌻 A part of me wants to go back and rewrite the book as pure medifant, instead of low fantasy, but I don’t want to develop a complex magic system, and it would change too many things. I just want it for the aesthetic really.

🌻 That being said, it’s heavily implied throughout the book that T’ke may really be magical, which is fun in a no-magic world.

🌻 I was able to weave in some of the Ekanti “magic” though, including healing songs and tattoo work!

🌻 Valerian is slightly magical too in that it seems like he doesn’t need air to keep talking. He just goes without ever pausing for breath.

🌻 When Samantha married Alastair, she takes Valerian under her wing too, and tries to keep him from getting beheaded by the crown, or at least getting his tongue removed.

🌻 Speaking of, an assassin later in the book has his tongue removed. Gross.

#wolf at the gates #answer #vendave #you asked for it #you got it #WHY IS READMORE NOT WORKING

6 notes · View notes

skittles-pixie · 7 years ago

Text

85 statements

R U L E S : you must answer these eighty five statements and tag twenty people

I was tagged by the always wonderful @essentiallychaotic

I would like to tag: dude idk if I know 20 people to tag but ill try... if I tag you and you don't want me to please tell me @iridescentautistic @mybloodyplacemats @wanderer-and-muse @standswithpotatos @alaskanomad @melodychanges @happydance416 uuuuuuh idk that's 7? lol @everyone that works right?

Part 1: the last:

drink: Twist up its a lemon lime soda... idk I asked my boy for a drink and that's what he brought me

phone call: My mother she woke me up two days ago

text message: to me- my mother.... from me- my coworker

song you listened to: Brittany spears toxic started playing on the radio when I got home from work

time you cried: Last night... combination of hormones and touchy feely movie... hormones suck...

Part 2: Ever:

dated someone twice: uh ive been on more than one date with my boy... otherwise my dating history is a little unclear... several guys who acted like we were dating and then refused to actually call it a date... so yeah idk...

kissed someone and regretted it: ooooooooh yeah..... alcohol is bad for you kids......

been cheated on: nope... ive only been in the one relationship and I have a very loyal boy

lost someone special: yes... both in passing away and by loosing touch....

been depressed: been? as in passed tense... lol try still depressed... ive learned how to handle it though, and it helps to have an outlet that's not controlled by my mother, and people who care about me. and to not be told how terrible I am every 5 minutes.

gotten drunk and thrown up: I had a crazy 21st birthday.... after that I try not to get that drunk... but it happens on occasion... lol

Part 3: Favourite colours: ALL OF THEM!!! I really like colors.. though green, blue, and blood red are prolly my top colors...

Part 4: In the last year have you:

made new friends: yes.... more like my boy made friends and introduced me, but yeah I always meet new people

fallen out of love: Naw I love my boy too much

laughed until you cried: yeeeeah.... I laugh a lot lol....

found out someone was talking about you: yeah apparently people talk about me a lot “oh yeah I know who you are” is a phrase I hear a lot when meeting people... also I guess my boy talks about me? but from what I hear people usually say good things

met someone who changed you: yeah ive spent some time getting to know myself better

found out who your friends are: yeah.... and in the process ive lost almost all of them, but I'm done trying too hard to get people to like me. I want to be invited out not just kinda sorta included but only if somebody else takes me. So yeah... long story short I found out that my friends are simply not....lol... I do still have the good ones though....

kissed someone on your facebook list: don't have facebook.... if I did it would prolly be yes though lol....

Part 5: General:

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: yeah still don't have facebook

do you have any pets: Theyre not really mine, but I live with 2 doggos

do you want to change your name: when I was little I wanted to change my name... I wanted something more pretty like rose or diamond.... but now I'm pretty happy with my name... would only change my last name if the occasion called for it....

what did you do for your last birthday: If I remember right I went to my physics class and then chilled in the empty cabin.... my boys aunt and uncle were visiting from Germany and got me a cake and a couple of presents... but on the actual day of my birthday I was pretty much alone... but birthdays are gross anyway

what time did you wake up: 1 pm lol... I'm too much of a night owl

what were you doing at midnight last night: I was finishing my movie and playing with my phone... I wanted to snap about how the sunlight in Alaska makes fireworks a bummer for the 4th, but I was too lazy lol

name something you can’t wait for: not having schoolwork.... I'm so glad to be done.....

when was the last time you saw your mom: may when she came up for my graduation... it wasn't too bad... she only put me down once....

what are you listening to right now: bobs burgers.... my boys watching it

have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes.... I have a friend named tom.... we don't talk very often... but hes still my friend....

something that is getting on your nerves: my one coworker.... he pisses me off...

most visited website: tumblr.... or Netflix....

hair colour: blonde... which is kinda an ombre cause I dye it lighter and then let it grow out and then repeat so its always lightest on the bottem lol... though I'm trying to let it grow out for a bit...

do you have a crush on someone: my booooooooooooy (please read that in a super cheasy sappy sarcastic tone)

what do you like about yourself: that's a tough question... lol... But I like my ability to be stubborn... It helps me work hard to get what I want and be a better person.... and I get to prove people wrong which is great because so many people have told me that I would never really succeed because the odds were too stacked against me...

piercings: don't have any... have considered earings.. but nah....

blood type: yeah... no idea

nickname: cece ce Cebu skittles pixie.....

relationship status: dating and hopeful for the future cause this is a very good one...

zodiac: leo

pronouns: She/Her

favourite tv show: Gilmore Girls, buffy, charmed, x files.... idk I watch a lot of shows...

tattoos: I absolutely love them... but my fear of needles and my indecisiveness mean that I don't have any nor any plans to get one... but I love henna...

right or left handed: right handed when it comes to writing... but ambidextrous for just about anything else...

piercing: no.

sport: uuuuh I don't follow any major teams or anything... but I'm always down to watch baseball, basketball, hockey, or soccer... ill gladly play any sport but I'm sorely out of shape lol and I don't always know all the rules... football still confuses me...

vacation: everywhere lol.... but right now Germany, Ireland, las vagas, japan, or just taking time off to travel around Europe in general, are all at the top of my list.....

pair of trainers: ????? idk????

Part 6: more general :

eating: Most food is good... I will prolly die if you ever feed me spicy food tho

. drinking: water, iced tea, hot tea, coffee, some soda but not very much or very often, milk, alcohol...

I’m about to: prolly go to bed so I don't die working the morning shift tomorrow

waiting for: it to be dark at night again lol...

want: my degree, a job that utilizes that degree, my own place.

get married: one day. ive got some time before anything happens... but I found my person....

career: Chemistry.... in Alaska.... man I'm still piecing that one together.... but environmental chemistry is super cool... and id love to work with the Alaskan environment, to keep it safe and clean and to better understand how it works

hugs or kisses: both... but mainly hugs... I'm a very touch oriented person....

lips or eyes: lips... idk why cause I love eyes too... but I'm fascinated with how peoples lips look.... like I never understood those superhero masks that just cover their eyes because I always recognize people by their lips and how they talk

shorter or taller: taller....... when I'm around tall people I feel smaller and that makes me happy... plus like.. they can reach the shit that I cant lol...

older or younger: I'm sooo old...... not really but sometimes I feel like it so idk lol

nice arms or nice stomach: arms... always.... especially shoulders...

hook up or relationship: uh before my current relationship I was totally all for either though I focused mainly on hook ups... but now I'm content with the relationship thing....

troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker... definitely... but usually its a good thing.... I never much cared for rules...

kissed a stranger: oh yeah... many times...

drank hard liquor: yup... do it a lot... but life in Alaska....

lost glasses or contact lenses: forgot where I put them a few times... but always found them... break glasses a lot tho....

turned someone down: yeeeeah... guys usually don't respond well... I know... big surprise...

sex on the first date: yup... i love sex....

broken someone’s heart: yeah.... it was terrifying... i vaguely knew him through mutual friends and similar activities... he asked to be my valentine when id told him that id never had one before ... valentines was about two weeks away... we saw each other for like a week... he had my entire future planned out for me... and i couldn't get passed the fact that he was 14 years older than me.... when i told him things weren't gonna work he broke down bawling.... and our mutual friends told me how bad he was after the conversation....

had your heart broken: yeah... and then toyed with... it was fuuuuuun.......

been arrested: no I'm an good kid who can do nothing wrong... and anytime ive done anything illegal i was always with people who took all the attention off of me....

cried when someone died: yeah... ive known too many people that have died....

fallen for a friend: yup... it didn't work out

Part 7: do you believe in:

yourself: Its a work in progress lol.

miracles: yes. This world is not always as terrible as the people who inhabit it...

love at first sight: you know... i never used to believe in it... but then i met my boy and i swear to god it was like i saw the puzzle pieces of my life fall into place around me... we were pretty drunk but to this day i still cant explain why i had such a strong urge to meet this man. why i insisted that he had to play pool with us... we already had more than enough people to play... but he had to be there with us.... and from that moment on my life has just gotten better and better....

Santa Claus: I guess... more like i believe that once upon a time he exsisted....

kiss on the first date: yes... again I'm a very touch oriented person....

angels: I think theres a lot of things out there that we do not understand and we are not ment to... so yeah i think angels exist...

Part 8: Other:

current best friend’s name:

Mckenzi is my go to... but Daniel is also my best friend.... I have a few others too like maddi... but if i named everyone then id be naming like all my friends and that would make me sad because I'm too social to have such a small social group lol....

eye colour: blue....

Favourite movie: depends on my mood... but i can never really pick a favorite...

#personal #tagged #oh god this is long #lol #enjoy #long post

1 note · View note