#so i went with a desert road idk why | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

behoright · 2 years ago

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electricity (holy series) l b. burns x a. svechnikov x m. nečas

call me, something / no one, else calls me

summary: andrei and neci cannot seem to get their first night at burnzie's out of their head. especially you. thankfully, their older teammate decides it's time for them to participate.

wordcount: 7k

song: electricity - arctic monkeys

warnings: MINORS DNI. 18+ only. mostly pure smut. includes cursing, dd/lg relationship, dirty talk, baby talk, anal play, bondage, overstimulation, m&f sex toys, orgasm control. slight choking and foot fetish.

PSA: an incredibly bastardized version of a BDSM encounter. please remember things like this require MUCH more communication than what’s portrayed. be safe n take care of yourselves.

a/n: i.... don't know what to say. this might become a series I THINK IDK. I'm too horny my head hurts. enjoy. love u. honorable mentions to @hoesforthecanes @thejoeburrow @ryanpulock @thejerksquad

𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂

“Print that in your fucking heads and try to do the same when you touch a girl. Every time you see anyone from now on, you’ll think about this, this right here, and how good I can make her feel, just come apart in my hands.”

Martin hadn’t been able to get that out of his head ever since he had gone with the boys to Burnzie’s. The experience was so hot, and so, unfortunately for him, incredibly humbling, that he hadn’t even gone out to try and meet any new girls. Brent had a point, and it was delivered clearly to all of them. Just like him, Andrei had been spending most of his time at the rink as well. The security guards were tired of waiting late for him, sitting around by the doors, with their keys in their hands, but he didn’t care. The more he skated, the less he thought about the way Burnzie had him tie your hands. Any free moment and his mind would get flooded with the memory of you bouncing on Brent; your smell, your moans.

The guys had talked about what happened amongst each other, but very little. They all seemed pretty functional, going back to the clubs and the dating apps. It was no coincidence that the only two that were struggling were Andrei and Neci - they were, after all , the only ones that had participated last time.

So, Burnzie had known this was coming ever since he first send that text. At least one of them was bound to the back to ask for more.

The tension was there, and he had caught them more than a couple of times staring and whispering.

It was just a matter of time. And courage, which they seemed to lack. As more time went by, the more they would act more secretive and overall strange towards Burnzie, the more tiresome it was becoming for him. So one day, right after practice, the rubberband snapped.

“What’s up, kids?” he said, not even bothering to turn around. He could feel their eyes, burning into him as he packed his bag.

“Uh, we were just wondering about-, uh-”

“About the room.” Burnzie helped them finish their sentence. He couldn’t believe that they were in their 20s, acting like children that didn’t know how to ask for candy.

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Uh, do you-, do that a lot?”

“Frequently. Why?”

“We just thought maybe…”

“We could come back.” Andrei spewed out.

“And why do you want to come back?” Brent said, eyes still focused on his gear.

“Maybe we can watch more.” The boys said, looking at each other.

“You two are the only ones that entered the room, and now you’re the only ones asking to come back. You think I believe you only want to watch?”

“We thought maybe, we could just, learn more.”

“More hands-on.” Martin tried to clarify.

Brent smirked.

“Expect a text from me.”

They quietly celebrated. Burnzie finally turned around to face them.

“And don’t expect anything else. Remember that.”

𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂𓏸 ₊ 📹 ⋆ ݂

“Don’t expect anything else.”

What in the world could that have meant? Andrei wondered as he sped through the deserted roads that led to Burnzie’s property. It was a chilly Friday night, the moon shining bright in the clear sky, when the two guys found themselves driving back to the place they craved to be in the most.

They were at the door right on time, as the text instructed. 5 minutes earlier, or 5 minutes later, and they would have lost their chance. The same maid led them down the long hallway, right up to the same door. This time, right as they were inserting their phones in the locked box, two forms expected them on the table that was adjacent.

“Read it and sign it. I’m going to need that if you want to come in this time.” the maid uttered.

Their pulse sped up as their eyes scanned through the words.

over 21 years old….

…..agreement of my own free will…..

….private agreement not to be disclosed with third parties…

agree to consent in all or some of the following sexual practices…..

God.

They looked at each other, picked up the pen, and signed it before handing it over to the maid.

What in the world had they gotten themselves into?

They walked into the dark viewing room, which was set up the same as last time. Tonight, there was no exploring it or wandering around. Both of them sat immediately, no words exchanged. Only the sound of anxious breaths filled up the space. A waiver meant that they were definitely participating.

The bedroom looked as spectacular as last time, today with added features. Right in between the bed and the fireplace sat a normal, very simple wooden chair, with two small side tables posing at each side.

The fireplace was on and roaring with flames. Andrei noticed Brent’s cufflinks already set on the nightstand, just like last time. He guessed that there was not going to be an introduction this time.

Their breaths loudly hitched as soon as the door to the bedroom opened, Brent walking you in, already naked.

“Sit here, baby.”

Tonight there was no kissing, no talking, no preparation.

When you sat down, Martin took note of a little clear droplet running down your leg. He wondered if you had already started before they got there.

“Daddy’s friends are going to help today, baby, remember?” You nodded, body quivering with anticipation.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“That’s much better, isn’t it.” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead before revealing a dark cloth in his hands. He wasted no time in wrapping it tightly around your eyes.

“Come here. Hurry the fuck up.” Brent barked, for the first time tonight facing the window. The two guys scrambled to get up and head through the small door, now walking back into the room that had haunted their dreams ever since they first encountered it.

“Don’t even fucking dare to look at her.”

Burnzie stood behind both guys, his face close to their ears.

“If you need to stop, at any point, you say red. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, yellow. Green is go, as you know, and only to be said when I ask. Speaking up is necessary, here. Say yes if you understand.”

“Yes.” they said in unison.

“Do not do anything that I don’t tell you to do. I need you to be honest, here. Don’t pretend you know something if you don’t. We need to keep it safe. Say yes if you understand.”

“Yes.” Brent could hear the trembling and tightness in his teammates’ voices.

“I won’t touch you, okay? You’re not here for me, you’re here for her. You can leave at any moment, boys.” Burnzie reassured them, patting their back. “It’ll be fun.”

And just like that, his demeanor changed again, as he walked over back to you.

Brent stood behind the chair. He pointed at Martin and signaled for him to come over.

“Stand here. Don’t move. Look forward.” he said, positioning Neci directly behind you.

“Come.” he motioned to Andrei, now standing in front of you. “Don’t look at her.”

The boys saw Brent walk over to the dresser in the corner of their eyes. The silence felt heavy in the room, as the anticipation was slowly bringing the temperature up. The older man came back, hands armed with goodies.

“Did I tell you to look somewhere else, or did I tell you to look forward, Neci?” Brent barked as he laid out the objects on the side table that sat a few feet from the chair.

“Uh- sorry.” Martin said, sharply turning his head back forward. Somehow, with his back turned, he had felt Neci’s gaze move. Shit.

They did their best to not look at each other but instead directly beyond, with their chins raised.

“Hold this.”

Brent handed Andrei some rope. He didn’t dare to look down at it, but it felt different than the one he had him use last time. This one felt thinner and much softer than the thick, beige rope from the other night. He couldn’t really tell, but he was mostly sure that Neci was holding some rope as well.

“You’re being so patient, princess. Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes.”

Brent surprised Andrei by moving behind him and placing a strong hand on his shoulder, pushing him down to his knees.

“How much do you remember from what you did last time, Andrei?” he said, towering over him.

“Most of it.”

Brent’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’ve never lacked confidence, kid.” he chuckled. “So you know how to handle it and feel it now. Let’s try something new.”

Brent squatted next to the kneeling Russian and began to instruct him how to tie your ankles to the legs of the chair.

“You see how this part’s looped? That’s called the bite.”

“Now bring this part through.”

“Split that in half, and wrap it in between her leg and the chair. Yes.”

“Do a square knot like last time. Yes, over and under, good.”

No matter how many times you’d done this, you had never gotten tired of the feeling of the rope. The slight scratching of the fibers on your skin as his fingers looped it around you, the way it moved your body unwillingly as it pulled you in different directions, it never failed to make you shiver. It allowed you to only feel some parts of their hands - a graze of his palm, the tough tip of his finger, or even a tiny tickle from the hair on his arm.

You could hear Brent instructing Andrei, keeping his voice low and strong, on how to safely secure your ankle and eventually run the rope up your leg to loop it around your shin, right under your knee, to solidify the knots altogether.

“You see how this part runs parallel to the leg of the chair? That’s how we keep her from moving too much. Can you move, flower?”

You wiggled your leg - the rope only gave you a tiny space to move.

“Good. Let’s do the same on the other one.”

While the two men moved over to tie your other leg, Martin had done his best not to look. You could feel the heat coming off of him, his body so close to your back. Eventually, as you found your bottom limbs mostly immobile, Brent stood back up and walked over to Neci.

He thought that out of the two, he looked the most nervous, but perhaps it was too hard to tell how fast Andrei’s heart was beating, with his eyes stuck on the ground below him. He was to remain on his knees, and so he did. Try everything once, right?

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Uh, no.”

“That’s fine. This one’s not too hard. Give us your hands, my love.” he instructed you. You moved your hands so that your forearms touched the sides of the chair rest.

“Don’t touch her hands. Start by looping the rope at the end like this. Try it.”

You could feel Martin shake as he began to slowly and carefully wrap the rope around your wrists. Before he knew it, you were secured to the chair. Neci’s chest puffed, a small smile spreading on his face. Maybe he could do this; perhaps this could be his life. He dreamed about having his own property, his own dream house, filled with rooms with hidden ropes and bondage chairs. Brent was quick to pop Martin’s bubble, pushing him to his knees, just as Andrei was sitting on the other side of the chair.

“Keep looking down.”

Neither of them had ever been in a humbling position like this before. Andrei thought about all of the times he had pushed a girl to her knees in the countless hotel rooms he’d been in. Is this what it felt like? All the times Martin had taken pleasure in letting his erection spring into a girl’s face. No one could have ever told them to get on their knees for someone else. Well, no one until now.

What surprised them both was how their bodies responded to it all. It was possible that their pants felt extra tight thanks to your naked body, sitting spread open and helpless in front of them, but even then, they weren’t looking at you. They really hadn’t gotten a good look at you this whole time. And it was obvious that they had no control over you. As much as they were dying to, they weren’t able to do whatever they wanted to you.

So why were their cocks throbbing so hard already?

“You did so amazing at sitting so still while we tied you up, little one. I think it’s about time we give you what you need, don’t you think?”. Brent said as his fingers worked to undo the knot that kept black cloth over your eyes. Looking down, you saw the two boys exactly how you thought they’d be - both kneeling, one in front of you and one behind you, panting so hard you could feel their breaths on your feet and legs.

“Are you wet, angel?”

You bit your lip and nodded, your eyes, big and sparkling with lust, staring up at Brent.

“Yeah? Did it make you wet when you felt the boys tying you up?”

Andrei gulped, as quietly as possible. They both hoped it wasn’t too obvious how straining this was starting to become for them, their cocks quickly swelling up in their pants. It was so much, and they hadn’t even taken their clothes off just yet.

“I bet Andrei would love to see your wet little pussy.” he said, as you keep nodding slowly. “That’s too bad he can’t”. You tilted your head towards him, still towering over you.

“You can look down at him, my sweet, he’s not allowed to look at you.” You tentatively peeled your eyes off Brent to look at the kneeling Russian in front of you. You could see the flush that had overtaken his body, his ears, and the back of his neck boiling with heat.

“Do you know why, petal?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Because they’re not fucking worthy, that’s why.” he said aggressively, his hand bringing up your chin to push past your lips with his tongue.

Brent began one of his favorite dances with you, engulfing your mouth with his tongue and spit. He loved to see you all flushed and short of breath when he pulled back, your lips now rough and blushed due to his beard scratching your delicate skin. You kept your mouth open, making Brent’s cock twitch, before getting on his knees to grab your face and kiss you again. The harder the kiss was, the more dramatically the boys’ chests would heave, and the more restless you became.

“Is this turning you on, dove?” he whispered, his lips still grazing yours. “Look at you, trying to move your hips against those tight binds. Are you craving touch down there, my baby?”

“Yes, yes.” you answered, your eyes still closed in exasperation, patiently hoping to feel his lips back on yours again.

“I can’t believe I’ve made you wait that long, princess. How awful of me.” he said, in between pecks, one of his hands reaching towards the small table behind him.

“Focus on me, baby. Give me your sweet, sweet tongue again.” he said, so close that his nose was touching yours. You obediently stuck out your tongue, craving more of his mouth on yours. Brent’s green eyes focused on your open mouth, opening his own. He licked your tongue slowly, at first with little kitten licks and eventually wrapping himself wholly around you, bringing on another feverish makeout session. It was so dirty, letting his spit dribble in your mouth like that, and it made your cunt feel so, so empty. It felt so good that you didn’t notice the rubbery touch of a vibrator now positioned right on your clit until Brent turned it on.

The initial vibrations caught you by surprise, letting out a loud moan into Burnzie’s mouth.

“That’s right, baby, there it is. I bet it feels so good, doesn’t it?” he coaxed, making sure to keep it steadily pressed on your sensitive bud.

The whole scene had been making the boys more and more impatient. Seeing as how you were both so enthralled with each other, Andrei was getting away with slowly grinding his hips up in the air. Martin, meanwhile, was focusing on his breath, attempting to control the overwhelming urge to undo his pants.

But Brent noticed. Of course, he noticed. Everything that went on in that room was always under his control. He moved over behind Andrei, his arm long enough to keep the vibrator pushing against you.

“Take your shirts off.” he ordered.

Before he could blink, both of his teammates were now kneeling shirtless. They were so desperate Brent almost felt bad for them. He took Andrei’s sweaty hand and positioned it on the barrel of the vibrator.

“Keep it there. Make her cum, and don’t look at her.”

Andrei tried to stay as immobile as he could, making sure that the toy stayed on your clit. Never before had he felt so… ashamed? It was a strange feeling, and it was hard to take it when all of his senses were getting so consumed so easily. The mix of your moans, your smell, the vibrations that recoiled in his clammy palms and his teammate’s heavy breathing were starting to make him feel dizzy. Not to even mention how hard his cock was already.

Martin’s mouth dropped when he realized it was Andrei that was in charge of the vibrator. If he was sitting in front of you, and that was his job, then what was Burnzie going to make him do?

“Do you know what these are?” Brent asked him.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever used them before?”

“No.” he gulped.

“Dip them in here. Go very, very slow.”

“Arch your back for us, love. Yeah, just like that.”

It was difficult in the most delicious way to keep your back arched. The young man sitting in front of you was trying so hard to keep the toy still, despite your trembling, that it was almost endearing. It turned you on to no end when Brent told you what to do; but when you saw him instruct other people, it was game over. Andrei’s hand started shaking, distracting you from the conversation that Brent was having behind you. You were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, the situation already proving too much for your system. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, a cold feeling filled your asshole. You were brought back to the murmurs of the men behind you, a gasp accompanying yours as the cold feeling returned again. And again.

Anal beads. Brent really did know how to work you right.

“Is he doing good, my girl?” you heard Brent coax.

“Fuck, yes, yes. Oh, please, Daddy.”

“Yeah, you’re going to cum, aren’t you? Already, my sensitive girl, look how much you’re trembling.”

Andrei was basically huffing and moaning at this point, his knuckles white as he gripped the wand so hard.

“Can-can I-, I-” you attempted to get out.

“Oh, you don’t have to ask today, baby. Cum all you want, my good girl.” Brent interrupted, placing a strong hand on your head. You moaned, louder than intended, as your orgasm ripped right through you. Fortunately, you only got louder when Brent ordered Neci to slowly pull out the beads from you, which only contrasted how tight you were squeezing your sex as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Again.” Brent barked, and not at you.

The boys kept going, and you only got more restless, your wrists becoming raw from pulling at your restraints so hard as you came.

Andrei couldn’t keep his gaze on his floor. He noticed that as you got more overstimulated and closer to your peak once again, your toes would wiggle more and more, your legs fighting against the rope. It reminded Andrei of the last time he was here, and he finally understood why Burnzie had instructed him to look at your feet that night. There was something about seeing the pleasure take over your whole being, even your feet, unable to stay steady from what he was doing to you. He was yanked out of his thoughts when he saw a string of fluid come into his peripheral vision. He turned his head back to the floor, now a tiny puddle of juices forming right before his eyes.

You were dripping off the chair.

The more came down, the louder Andrei whimpered, which along with Neci’s cursing sent you over the edge, seeing stars once again in just a few minutes.

Brent yanked the vibrator out of Andrei’s hand, turning it off and placing it away, leaving you breathless and whimpering.

“You made such a mess, my baby. You know how Daddy feels about messes.”

You could only moan, overstimulation taking over you, as Neci was getting the hang of how to touch you right.

“Someone’s going to have to clean this up.”

Andrei’s heart dropped. All he wanted was to taste you, touch you, or fuck, even just see you. See how good you looked all swollen and ready to be filled up. He didn’t think he’d get there, but honestly, he would have done anything to get any relief.

Out of the blue, his eyes suddenly became covered by the dark cloth of a blindfold.

“Color, Andrei?”

“Green.”

“Make her feel good, Svech.”

He immediately lunged forward, getting what he was dreaming of, his tongue eagerly licking every single patch of wet skin, bead of cum, every corner, every fold of you. He would thrust his tongue into your opening to overwhelm his senses with waves of your sweet nectar, just to widen his mouth and spread it all over your cunt. The motion of Andrei’s actions, the whole bottom of his face working overtime, added to the feeling of Neci’s digits, who was randomly alternating his fingers and the cold, metal beads in and out of you, was making you scream. You were dripping from every hole with spit, lube and cum, and it felt so fucking dirty. Martin was absolutely mesmerized at how easily your body would welcome the toy, how your fingers would twitch whenever he pulled the silver beads out of you. The closer Andrei was getting you to another orgasm, the tighter your asshole would get, shifting the objects inside you, causing the utmost pleasure for you, and consequently for the viewing pleasure of Neci. He had become a mess, grinding fully into nothing, joining you with his own moans and groans every time he would see one of the beads come out of your body.

“Look how much they adore you, my girl. They’d do anything for you right now, you see?”

“Oh, fuck, yes, Daddy.” you whimpered.

Brent was standing so close, a big wet spot on his boxers. Sticking your tongue out, you tried to reach for him. His eyes rolled, pelvis subconsciously moving forward towards you.

“Oh, such a good girl.” he said, as you licked his cock over his boxers.

“You could have all the men in the world at your feet, and you’d still choose your Daddy over them, wouldn’t you?.” You nodded, keeping the tip of your tongue focused on the head of his cock, which was pushing hard against the fabric of his underwear.

“Taste me, doll. Only me.” he uttered, taking his underwear off and guiding himself into your mouth. “Slowly, angel. Savor me. This is what you fucking do to me, my girl.”

Brent’s salty precum burst on your tongue as you swirled his head slowly. He loved it when you took your time with him, getting him off for your pleasure only. Seeing you lick his member, tracing every single vein and ridge with the tip of your tongue, your eyes so satisfactorily attempting to look at him, ripped groans out of his chest every single time.

“You’re so, so good. Have I told you today, princess?”

You nodded, starting to tremble again from the three men taking over your body.

“You’re so perfect. You look so good with your holes all filled up.”

You moaned, sending vibrations through Brent’s cock again.

“Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you, flower? Daddy’s friends are making you feel so good.

You want to know a secret? Daddy only invited them because he knew how sexy you’d look all filled up like this. He doesn’t give a fuck about them. I only care about you, petal.”

Hearing those words made Brent’s teammates work overtime, causing your eyes to roll back into your head as you released yourself once again, all over Andrei’s tongue.

“Yeah, let it go, my baby. Just like that, good girl.” he said, walking you through your orgasm.

As soon as you came down, Brent pushed both guys away from you, swiftly undoing your ropes.

“Go fucking get her some water. Fast.”

They must have found it quickly, because as soon as the ropes touched the ground, Brent held you up, gently pouring cold, fresh water in your mouth.

“That’s okay, love. Good job, like that. Breathe deep, my baby. You’re doing okay?” he asked, his eyes studying your face.

“Yes. Thank you, Daddy.” you said, feeling refreshed.

“My sweet girl. Are you ready to keep going?”

“Yes.” you said, welcoming a smile from Burnzie.

“Take your pants off. Go sit.” he instructed the guys.

They sat in the chairs next to the side of the bed, both flushed and sweaty, too horny to even care about what they looked like.

You got on your knees in front of them, right in the middle of the two chairs. Brent took a seat on the bed behind you, facing his two teammates.

Slowly, you finally touched them, running your hands on both of their thighs. They had never felt so much pleasure from a such simple touch. They both threw their head back, the softness of your palm sending waves of electricity through their bodies. You kept moving closer to their cocks, hard and throbbing, wishing to feel a twinge of pressure. Your fingertip circled close to Andrei’s hip, coming in contact with his pubic hair, while your other hand ran up and down the inside of Martin’s thigh, inching closer to the base of his cock. They couldn’t help but twitch, every tiny movement another surge of heat and pleasure.

The metallic, clicking sound took them out of their heat wave, realizing that they weren’t able to move their feet. While you were teasing them, building up now ruined anticipation, you used your other hand to lock their feet into the metal cuffs that came attached to the bondage chair.

“Is this okay?” you asked, almost innocently. “Could you do this for me?” You could basically hear Brent’s smirk from behind you.

Speechless, the two young men nodded slowly. Andrei’s hand, firmly gripped his hair, while Neci tried his best to keep his whimpers to a low volume. Both of their feet were now shackled to the chairs; they couldn’t move from their chairs at all.

“Oh, my little mischievous girl. I bet you didn’t think she’d be this naughty, huh?

Yeah, you guys thought you’d come in here and have your way with her. You had no clue how playful she is. She’s had you wrapped around her finger since the moment you saw her for the first time, and you stupidly thought it was the other way around.” Brent said, walking up to you and petting your head tenderly.

“Did you think she’d be so clueless, boys? That this is not a two-way relationship? You thought I keep her in this big house, always ready for me, and that she just gets used for me.

No, boys. She knows just as much as me, and way more than you do. And that’s exactly why you won’t get to touch her again today.”

Brent walked back over to you, holding out his hand to help you up and bring you two behind Andrei and Martin.

“That’s okay. You get to be this bad because deep down, we know you’re only good for me, right?” he said, giving you a heated kiss.

Martin thought he was going to have a heart attack once he felt your hand on his shoulder. Just the way it felt on his burning skin made him buckle his hips, aggressively enough that the chair moved up with him.

“Take a deep breath.” you whispered in his ear while Brent got the toys ready behind you. “You’re doing okay?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I just need-, I need you to-”

“You don’t need her to fucking do anything.” Brent chimed in, aggressively.

“Just take a deep breath for me.” you reminded him.

Martin breathed deeply, and so did Andrei, who was listening to the conversation as well.

Neci’s eyes had been shut for a while now, way too consumed with the way the desire felt running through his veins, so much so that he didn’t realize you moving a toy in front of him.

Andrei had never seen anything like it before. It was cylindrical and white, with some buttons on top, and as you hovered it above Neci’s cock, lube came out of it, dripping onto his swollen head. The cold feeling made him whimper loudly, right before moaning ripped out of him as soon as you placed the sex toy all the way down to his base.

“Hold it, just like that.” you said, kindly, before moving on to stand behind Andrei. Just as quickly as it happened to his teammate, the feeling that wrapped around his dick caused his flushed stomach to tighten with pleasure. It felt wet, and warm, and nothing like what he had felt before. If you didn’t have to tell Martin twice, you didn’t have to tell Andrei once, who grabbed onto the toy fast, pushing his hips up into it. He looked back at you, his eyelids only halfway open, as he began to fuck the sex toy as diligently as he could with his legs constricted. He watched your face as he moaned incredibly loudly, almost groaning, inching to get more and more from the toy. You wiped a sweat bead off of his eyebrow, just as Brent’s arms wrapped around you.

“You’re way too kind, my dove.” he muttered into your temple. “Say fucking thank you.” Brent barked at Andrei.

“Th-, thank you. So much.” he stumbled out in between moans.

“Come, flower. Let’s show them who you belong to.” he said, picking you up bridal style and throwing you onto the mattress.

Finally, your hot, big Dom was positioning himself at your entrance. Not before grabbing his phone, and to their surprise, turning on the toys for the guys. If they were moaning loudly before, the suction and vibrations that initiated around their cocks basically caused primal growls to fill the room.

Brent entered you, swiftly, the swollen head of his thick dick coming flush with your cervix in the most pleasurable pain.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy.”

“I cannot wait any longer, little one. I want to claim you so badly.” he said, moving his hips harshly against yours. Brent was a sweet Dom, but when he claimed you, he fucked hard, and you loved every second of it. The room was filled with the sounds of men moaning for you, making you even weaker than before.

“My girl. You’re my fucking girl, yeah, baby?”. You moaned dramatically in response.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me, angel.”

“You, you, you,” you repeated, your eyes stuck at the back of your head as he kept pounding himself inside you.

It had finally dawned on them. Andrei and Martin understood, as they were being consumed by pleasure, what it was. The power dynamic, the push and pull. The fact that you had them at your disposal and you couldn’t care less. The fact that they had suffered for so long, had made you cum countless times, and all they had gotten in return was… a sex toy. At the end of it all, the whole team could have been in the room, on their knees, sweating and panting, reaching for you, and you only would have looked at Brent. You only wanted to get on your knees for Brent. You trusted him enough to bring random men into the room, to blindfold you and tie you up, but only him. And it hadn’t felt forced. They had only seen you smile at him. You only giggled when he picked you up. All those times that Andrei had used a cheap pair of handcuffs on a whatever short-term girlfriend, craving something more; times that they had tried spanking their date, or been called Daddy - it just ended up making them cringe. They didn’t believe it. What they were missing was… this.

The motorized toy was doing wonders for them, picking up the pace and pressure just right, and slowing down right when they felt they were getting too close. But that was starting to take a toll.

“Oh, shit. Oh, oh, shit.” Martin moaned, getting too close to his peak.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Brent growled at him while he turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees. The way your mouth dropped open when he entered you again made Andrei’s chest, now completely flushed, heave really hard, moving the chair slightly at his twitches and thrusts.

“No one gets to cum before she does.” Brent said, pounding over and over into you.

“Oh Daddy, slow it down for them.”

you said, attempting to reach out to the phone sitting on the nightstand. Brent’s hand easily reached out to you, grabbing your wrist and holding it behind your back.

“They’re here for you. Not the other way around. Don’t fucking forget it.”

“Do you need to be reminded, flower?” Brent uttered, his hips now slamming even harder against your ass.

“Do you need to cum more, baby? So you can remember what your purpose here is?

"Look at them. Look at how fucking pathetic they look. They’d do anything to touch you right now. A graze of your skin, a drop of your cum on their tongue would make them explode.”

“Fucking say it. Tell her.”

“I’d- I’d do anything to touch you.” Martin repeated, his normal tone muffled by the pleasure.

Andrei couldn’t fight it; he knew Burnzie was right. He felt incredibly pathetic. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t care less that the chair was moving, and he was fighting hard against the restraints while fucking his length hard into the sex toy. He moaned harder and louder than he ever had before in an attempt to control his orgasm from coming early. The top of the toy had sealed, creating a vacuum that only heightened the pleasure, torturing them both more.

“Блядь, блядь, блядь.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

All of his inhibitions had gone out of the window. He was needy, and desperate for touch, and spit and cum and release like never before. He couldn’t even hear his teammate next to him moaning anymore. It had all blended into the most overstimulating sound for him.

“Это так чертовски горячо.”

This is so fucking hot.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to try and keep it together. No English, nothing. He was one hundred percent under the spell of you, someone who was ironically getting fucked by his older teammate.

“Я должен был сидеть там, с твоей киски капало прямо передо мной, сливки заливали весь стул и пол, и я, блядь, я ничего не мог сделать.”

I had to sit there with your pussy dripping right in front of me, creaming all over the chair and the floor and I fucking, I couldn't do anything.

Martin heard him speak, but didn’t know if he was losing it from holding it in so much, or if his friend was rambling in Russian next to him.

“Я не могу поверить, что мне пришлось, мне пришлось сидеть так долго, слыша твои стоны и, черт возьми, звук шариков, входящих и выходящих из тебя, боже, детка, черт возьми.”

I can't believe I had to, I had to sit for so long, hearing you moan and, fuck, the sound of the beads moving in and out of you, god, baby, fuck.

The more they held back their orgasm, the harder they seemed to move their hips up, chairs scratching the hardwood floor underneath them. Andrei couldn’t even see you clearly anymore, his eyes blurred by lust and sweat.

“Это так приятно, но, о черт, я чертовски сильно хочу, чтобы твой рот был на мне, твоя грязная девчонка. То, как ты позволяешь ему делать с тобой все, что угодно, тебе даже наплевать на нас, когда я сижу здесь и умоляю скользнуть в твою прелестную пизду. О, детка. Я хочу этого так чертовски сильно.”

“This feels so good but, oh fuck, I want your mouth on me so fucking bad, you dirty girl. The way you let him do anything to you, you don't even care about us, when I sit here and I beg to slide in your pretty cunt. Oh, baby. I want it so fucking bad.”

“I-, I can’t fucking hold it in anymore.” Martin whimpered pathetically. “I’m going to fucking, explode, oh fuck, so soon.”

“Когда, когда я наконец прикоснулся к тебе губами, я думал, что кончу себе в штаны, я так сильно хотел тебя.”

“When, when I finally put my lips on you, I thought I was going to cum in my pants I wanted you so bad.”

Your back arched, staring at the two guys lost in pleasure in front of you. Brent had grabbed you by the throat, his beard tickling your shoulder as he mumbled praises in your ear. Praises that were muffled, almost unheard, covered by the noise of the chairs creaking as they moved, Brent’s balls hitting your clit every time he bottomed out inside you, Russian mixed with moaning and the ringing that came from your ears as soon as you released yourself all over him and the bed; sticky, slick juices exploding out of your swollen cunt, covering Brent’s thighs.

“Я собираюсь вернуться, куколка. Я должен вернуться и, блядь, заставить тебя кончить на меня, устроить беспорядок на мне, черт.”

I'm going to be back, doll. I have to come back and fucking have you cum all over me, make a mess all over me, shit.

“Good fucking girl, baby. I’m going to mark you, my doll. You’re going to be mine forever now, shit.” Brent growled in your ear before squeezing your body tight, releasing himself and pumping you full with so much cum that it seeped over before he was even done, or before you had a chance to catch your breath.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Fuck, oh, fuck!” Martin exclaimed as he finally released in the sex toy, primitive noises ripping out from his chest.

Andrei was the last one to finish, and a sight to see. He fucked himself done inside the toy hard, cumming harder than ever before with a piercing growl and a clenched jaw. He sat and watched his cum run down his pelvis and legs as he pulled the toy off of him, tossing it aside as he heaved heavily, on the border of hyperventilation, his bright red face and chest dripping in sweat.

Brent left you empty on the bed, scrambling to unlock his teammates and bringing them over to his California king mattress for a rest. Before laying down with you, he grabbed candy and water from the nightstand, tossing it to his friends as he held you again.

“You’re alright, dove?” he asked, holding your face. It was a miracle that your eyes were even putting up a struggle to stay open. “No, no, no, doll, stay with me. Open your eyes.” he said, sitting up alarmingly.

The guys heard how his tone of voice switched and set aside their own exhaustion to come around you.

“Stay awake, baby, I need to know that you’re okay.” he repeated, setting your head on his chest. Andrei opened his bag and placed a piece of candy on your lips. The burst of sugar and citric acid woke you up, welcoming the sweetness inside your mouth. You began sucking diligently on the piece of candy as you cuddled up to Brent, placing kisses on his scruffy neck.

“Atta girl, much better.” he coaxed, now more relaxed. “Eat some up, boys, it’ll help.” he said, watching his friends chug from the water bottles.

It was nice that you could all sit together and cuddle in silence, replenishing themselves and slowly feeding you candy, water, and kisses.

“All good, love?” Brent asked in between pecks.

“Yes.” you whispered.

“Much better. Take your nap now.” he said, with a kiss on your forehead.

You fell asleep, soundly in his arms, and Brent was left with two tired and still very giddy boys in his bed. Their eyes sparkling, waiting for him to say… something.

“You guys did well. Want to come back next week?”

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year ago

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Hi everybody! I’m mostly settled in back home and I’m feeling a lot more energized and ready to finish up those last few requests so I can go into September with a clean slate. Thank you all for your patience, it feels good to be back :D

Under the cut are some pictures from my trip for those who may be interested to see what I was up to.

Starting off strong with a black bear we saw on the side of the road! We saw 5 total I think. All while driving, which was be a theme for most of the animals we hoped to see on our trip. One of the scariest moments was when one bounded into the road in front of us. A very close call, but nobody (person or animal) was hurt. (Riding Mountain NP, Manitoba, Canada)

This elk silently strode right into our campsite one morning. I looked up and I had a heart attack because he emerged from the bushes like a reverse Homer Simpson. He was very chill though, went to go eat leaves in the little island surrounded by campsites. He came back the next morning too. You really don’t think about how big an elk is until the only thing separating you is a picnic table. (Prince Albert NP, Saskatchewan, Canada)

Bison, also seen on the side of the road while driving by. This was also the same place where I saw the beavers and because of that I think that’s why this place is ultimately my favorite from the whole trip. I’ve only seen one wild beaver in my life before I came here so getting to see a bunch chew and swim around made me very happy. Also, you could not pay me to get into the water there. Never mind the fact that they had a blue-green algae bloom, but they also had leeches that you could see swimming around just by looking in from the dock. Icky, but fun to watch. (Elk Island NP, Alberta, Canada)

Moose, also brought to you by simply driving down the road. Which is funny because we went on a trail that pretty much guaranteed you to see moose and we didn’t see a single one. But this one was just hanging out on the side of the road maybe 40/50km away from the critically acclaimed moose spot. She was the only moose we saw, and some people were disappointed to have not seen one with antlers, but I say better one than none. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Jasper probably had the most cool views. Love me a mountain with a big ol’ glacier on it. There was a nice, cool wind that blew through this area almost constantly. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Another elk, but this one was too cool not to share in my opinion. Another from the car shot as we left Jasper. He’s running with the mountains in the background and he’s got the biggest antlers I’ve ever seen. Super neat. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Here’s a nice little artsy photo I took. We saw a lot of these purple flowers around and I think they’re really pretty, especially paired with the beautiful glacial waters and rugged mountains. Wish I could see views like this all the time. (Yoho NP, British Colombia, Canada)

I know this probably doesn’t look like much, but I think it’s so neat to look at. It’s a mountain that still has snow (maybe a very small glacier idk) on it but also has a little dune that looks like it belongs in the desert and a refreshing little stream curving around the rock. I took this photo while on a 10 mile (~16km) hike too much elevation gain and the down didn’t feel much better, but on those rare stretches of flat ground I felt like Rock Lee when he took off his ankle weights. Also, 10 mile hike up a mountain, barely any people around, you think we saw any animals? No. No we did not. (Yoho NP, British Colombia, Canada)

I think these birds are called Clark’s Nutcrackers if my quick googling is to be trusted. I thought they were really cute, but also kind of vicious. I saw one dive bomb a woman and steal a good chunk of her wrap/burrito. (Banff NP, Lake Louise, Alberta Canada)

A whole herd of big horn sheep seen while waking around the campground. Some of them looked really menacing. Really big horns and super buff. If one wanted to mess you up, it definitely could. Still really neat to see from a distance! We also checked out the hot spring nearby. Too hot for me, so I spent most of my time in the little cool pool, a refreshing 55F (~13C). (Kootenay NP, British Colombia, Canada)

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science-lings · 2 years ago

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Idk I don’t think you’re giving the other links enough credit when it comes to preparedness. You’re kinda implying that they could just wandering into town whenever to restock but that’s not really true. I’d actually argue Wild had the easiest time because he could just teleport to ten different villages to buy whatever he needed at any given time (that’s how I played him in BOTW lol. I’d just clear out the stalls every few days tbh I’m too lazy to farm stuff myself sometimes). Plus he has a Hyrule that is full to the brim with natural recourses. Most of the other Links had much harsher worlds.

Time spent several weeks (months?) trapped in the future post-apocalypse where the only civilization to survive was a single village in the far corner of Hyrule. Every other town or place was destroyed or cursed or frozen.

Legend was a wanted criminal so he couldn’t just wander into town and buy a loaf of bread.

Twilight was trapped as a wolf for a long while and was actively chased away.

Sky was stuck on the ground without any civilization aside from an old lady and Groose.

Hyrule didn’t even have towns to go to during his first adventure.

Wind spent weeks at sea, which he couldn’t even fish in because there are no fish in the Great Sea. Plus he couldn’t get water easily. Arguably I’d say he had the hardest time with that because the life of a sailor is dang hard because of the lack of resources.

So I’d argue that the other are actually way more prepared to deal with the food situation than Wild, who’s literally never had to ration because he ran into food everywhere he went. Seriously it’s basically impossible to go ten feet in BOTW without seeing a mushroom. Even in the desert there’s stuff it pick. (It’s actually a problem for me when playing lol I get so distracted picking up each and every berry)

Warriors especially would be good at monitoring food levels because he was a Captain of a large army. If I know anything about war conditions in the pre-modern world it’s that food and starvation was a huge factor in winning wars. Fun fact - most strongholds and castles fell because people were starved out, not because the doors were bashed down. That’s why modern armies are so big on logistics now. So Warriors would be on top of that with details and numbers on how much an active man eats in a day and what foods keep and what’s the best way to transport it. There’s no way he’d not be deeply involved in something so important. So I doubt he doesn’t know the challenges of keeping a small army fed while on the road.

I respect your opinion and I get what you're saying, but you're missing the major thing that generally, the others can't cook. While that just may not be a mechanic in any of their games, it doesn't matter.

Like obviously the others aren't completely useless and I get why that pisses people off that Wild may be good at something that the others may not be.

It's not unreasonable to assume that the worlds of the other Link's are just as bounteous when it comes to wild plants and animals that can be hunted but the fact is that they NEVER needed to resort to foraging or hunting for their food. A lot of them healed up by killing monsters and picking up their hearts that popped out, which idk how that would translate to reality but whatever.

Wild was born with nothing to his name but a weird little iPad, he was forced to pick up everything along the way so he wouldn't starve. He couldn't even properly cook until he left the great plateau.

Not everyone plays the game like you do, it's honestly crazy to me that you waste your rupees on food that you can literally pick up off of the ground. I only buy things that can't be harvested like sugar and goron spice and milk.

You can have whatever headcanons you want but don't come to me acting like I'm wrong for not having the same ones.

#when i talk about wild in love I don't mean that the others are useless or whatever #im not attacking your faves by saying that Wild is better than them at one of the things he's canonically shown to be better at #if you come at me with a defensive rant I will rant back #linked universe #lu wild #linked universe wild #ask andromeda

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miniscrew-anon · 1 year ago

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Merry Whumpmas - Day 6 “Nowhere Else to Go”

This is Shadow backstory time. Like, early backstory. Before meeting Four or anyone else. Earliest entry in this merry whumpmas timeline

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It was a small town out in the farthest corner of the Southern desert, in the shadow of inhospitable plateaus and sand dunes. A ghost town; occupied by the forgotten and abandoned.

The town had been booming once. An outpost that was built from government money to act as a stopping point between the more populated cities and the sturdy military bases built out of the mountains. Hundreds of miles from anything and surrounded by sand and heat, this town used to see every soul that went to and from one of the Dragmire Clan’s biggest headquarters.

But things changed.

The Dragmires completed a new station somewhere else and the income from traveling soldiers dropped off significantly. Then goods and trade completely dried up when the Dragmires moved their entire stockpile out of the mountains. Government aid kept the town afloat for a few years, until that too stopped when the economy crashed as the Hylian royal family and their allies ceased trade with the desert dwellers.

The people who could escape town did. The ones left behind did what they could to survive.

The farmland was poor, water was scarce, and personal stocks were dwindling. Transporting goods became difficult and trade became more and more expensive as costs rose. The roads were overtaken by sand storms and vehicles were left in disrepair by neglect as gas deliveries were stopped.

The town became buried, forgotten.

Only the damned lived there now. Hundreds of miles from anything, without any way to leave and without any help, the people starved and wasted away slowly.

The boy squatted in the shadow of a worn down shop, drawing circles in the sand with his finger. He was hungry but he had nothing. Two days since his last meal, he thinks, but he’s not sure. He sleeps so much that time sometimes feels stretched out and loose. It was a can of creamed corn, he thinks. Found buried under the floorboards of a corpses home; killed for stealing from one of the gangs.

Two days ago, probably. But it could have been four.

He blinks sand out of his eye and keeps drawing in the sand.

He doesn’t know where he can get more food. The farms, what few of them there are, are mostly barren. And anything that’s there is guarded by starving eyes and twitchy trigger fingers. Trying to steal from there would lead to nothing but death.

No food here, but there are always plenty of guns.

The boy thinks about all the storehouses that might be left, trying to remember if he’s checked them all yet. He thinks so. Every one but the one on the corner of Moldul Street, but he heard screaming and gunshots over there last week. So it’s empty by now.

There are a few other places, maybe. Under that old bar near the broken down bank, or out near the old icehouse. All those places are well guarded, though. Owned by the small gangs that have monopolized the little bit of power there is around here. Going into their turfs would be a death sentence.

The boy stops. Smiles to himself without any humor, lips cracking from the dry heat.

A death sentence. Heh, what a joke.

The boy stands up as the sun sinks below the horizon. He stretches out thin, shaky limbs and pats sand out of his threadbare clothes.

He’ll chance stealing from the icehouse today. Even if he doesn’t have a weapon or a plan, he’ll make do. He’s watched the men and their normal patrol routes - he can probably sneak in and out.

Probably. Maybe. But even if he can’t, it doesn’t really matter.

There’s nowhere else to go.

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I always imagined Shadow having nothing. Literally spawning in and just having no family or anything really. The kind of life that inspires you to not give a shit about anything or anyone. That's why he's so skrunkly!

Idk how coherent this is when I jump around in the timeline. sorry lmao

#townhouse au #hsh au #st0rmyverse #merry whumpmas 2023

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rillette · 1 year ago

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jeremy slept through dnd soooo the rest of us played tod

annes sexual fantasy is socialism. eliass is emotional intimacy. people think atlas killed his parents. atlas did not go to school. atlass biggest ick is elias. eliass biggest regret is not walking home with theo before he went missing. annes first celeberty crush was burt bobain. if stranded on a deserted island anne would bring elias (so he doesnt walk away in the middle of sex again), atlas would bring theo (idk why???), and elias would bring theo (because theo would do all the hard work for him). eliass first celeberty crush was himself. elias has never cheated on somebody and everybody is surprised by this. atlas showers daily despite them having been on the road with the party for more than a day. i dont know where he got the water. (jeremy woke up and joined the call here) rowans biggest fear is being unloved. anne frequently pees in pools.

Help me God. Burt bobain, crying 😭

#asks <3 #ty for the ask!!#dnd adventures #sounds like u guys had fun!!!

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bolin-begs · 1 year ago

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Took a trip today and here's our adventure!

- followed a dirt road some ways out into the desert(on foot) and saw some horse poop on the way and we came across some houses just kinda built out there with some teenagers in the front yard of one of them playing basketball.

- one of my favorite jokes these days is to call any teenager I(24 years old) see a hooligan. I shared with my brother that these hooligans were up to their tricks. My brother (32) told me that they're not hooligans just because they're teenagers :(

- we kinda circled around that dirt road a bit and then took a break in some shade. He told me I was getting really red. I told him I'm immune to the sun. He didn't believe me.

- we took a little side dirt road and saw some horse tracks. We decided to follow them to find the horse. They led us to the horse poop on the road we saw earlier.

- while walking back to the main road we saw a cloud peeking over the nearby mountain. Idk how else to describe it other than the cloud was giving it a hug.

- we decided to go down yet another dirt road, yet again in the middle of nowhere, and found this absolutely beautiful castle of a house on this dirt road in the middle of nowhere. It legit had a Romeo and bullet balcony and a beautiful driveway and it was just so gorgeous that we speculated on why anyone would build that out here.

- across the street from fairytale house was a mostly fenced off area with one entry in or out of it and a sign that said "sunset pond". It was neither sunset nor a pond because there was no water at all in it. It had rained before and the shrooms were starting to take affect so all of the plants around it looked extra green but we made fun of the "pond plants" for being in the wrong place.

- there were also benches inside the fencing area as well as a path around the "pond" and down into it too so we went to explore inside. Inside, I shit you not, was a place that had to be designated just for stoners, people tripping, and other hooligans because there was a breath taking rock formation that was definitely handmade next to an underground tunnel that was COVERED in graffiti. We decided to take a break there.

- while in there, the shrooms really started taking affect to the point that all the graffiti looked like it was melting away and every time I looked down I seemed to be covered in bugs that weren't there. I think this is the longest break we took the whole day and, at least in trip world, it felt like we were there for 300 years at least just watching the graffiti and the rocks and the desert around us.

- one notable hallucination during this time too was that while we were in the tunnel, we were staring at the clouds around the mountain(they were no longer hugging it). My brother was watching a flat cloud above everything else and swore it looked like a dragon ball z(?) Type fight in the air. Meanwhile I was looking at a line of clouds beneath that one that looked like a cartoony chase of an alligator, a hippo, a chipmunk, a squirrel, really just a bunch of animals chasing each other around.

-I also remember looking into the desert beyond and thinking if we had to run out of there for some reason, it would be like those nightmares where no matter how much you run you get nowhere. Idk why I thought this.

- we left the tunnel and followed the path the rest of the way out of there until we came to a closed gate(remember how I said the fence was only open on one side? This is why) and my brother, at the peak of his high, could not figure out why the gate wasn't open no matter how hard he stared at it.

- finally I pitched the idea to go the way we came. Half way through the pond, he decided to stop and make fun of the pond plants again.

- we went just a bit more past the fairytale house and we came to another house with a fake deer in its back yard. The fence to the back yard was completely see through so it spooked me and I asked him why someone would have it. He told me the backyard was where it grazed during the day. The back yard was filled with gravel and had no grass whatsoever.

- we came to another house with 2 horses outside. Success! We found out where the horses went.

- at a crossroads we decided to turn right. A plane flew over us, again idk if it was the drugs exaggerating things or what but it was super loud. We stared at it until it passed.

- we came across a very rotted old wooden realtor sign that said "1/2 acre lot- utilities". I started pretending we were archeologists discovering the ruins of an old city named "acrelottility"

- we came across another fenced off area with a bunch of small machines inside and a sign that said something about studying hydrology in the area. We later looked up what hydrology meant, it's something about studying water. Again, I can't stress this enough, this was the middle of the desert with no water.

- we came to an area with a bunch of hills and valleys. I assumed immediately that it was for local 4 wheelers. My brother did not. We made our way to the top of one of the hills and took a break again. I noticed broken glass on the ground and(safely) grabbed a piece and told him the ancient people used it as a digging tool. He started making a glass castle with the pieces, or as he called it, a glasstle.

- we sat there for 50 years shrooms time and all I can remember talking about is how terrible 9/11 would be to experience while tripping

-I know we were on an area for 4 wheelers but some asshole decided to ride super close to us and release all his exhaust fumes all over us so my brother finally made the connection that this is for 4 wheelers and not people so we got up to leave. On our way out I remember us talking about how that poor boy was a 4 wheeler/ human hybrid and how his mother cries herself to sleep every night because of how ugly he is.

- we also kept looking at the clouds on the mountain and they seemed to be rushing towards us with a big storm but also staying where they were at the same time.

- we decided to start going back home because we were both pretty hungry but we took an extended route around back to the main road. We passed by a house that looked like it had come from a small village in Germany or Switzerland and we nicknamed it "little Germany". We also talked about how little Germany was friends with Fairytale houses because weird out of place houses have to stick together

- while walking down the main road I remember thinking how we must have looked to anyone who saw us. We were both sweaty and covered in dirt and sunburned(turns out I'm not immune to sun) and my brother was playing pink Floyd with his speaker.

- also he was wearing a bandana, sunglasses, and a tank top, with this grime on him, with this trippy music and all I could think about was that this must have been how it felt in Nam. Like we had just survived a war.

- there was a sign on the road that said "hidden drive- 300 ft" so I told him "be careful, there's a hidden drive around here" and he said "AND it has 300 feet?!" Truly I wish I could have seen the faces on the people who were outside to hear this.

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githvyrik · 4 years ago

Photo

decided to work on this today… tried not to be too perfectionist about it lol

#idk why. but here it is #wow i did some art that isn't dnd for once haha #myart #artists on tumblr #skatergirl #skateboard #tried to make it Aesthetic #i was gonna make her be skating down like a suburban street or smth but #i didn't wanna do that background #so i went with a desert road idk why #where is she going. come back. it's getting dark you'll be cold.#bg is inspired by the utah desert which tbh is one of the most beautiful places on earth #no i'm not biased #i have never drawn anything to do w skateboards before so this was fun #i am actually impressed with myself for doing this so quick #normally something like this would've taken me way longer bc i am slowwww #maybe i'm getting faster #i kinda wanted to add some stars and the moon and other stuff #but i don't like to draw past 2 am and i decided i wasn't gonna spend more than 1 day on this #bc i have a whole list of things i wanna draw #ANYWAY

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hey-kae · 2 years ago

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Off-track

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!female reader

Request: Heeey! I love the way you write and i have a little request. Idk I just thought about it :)). Charles and reader they meet at a traffic light or in traffic, and they just agree to race a little when the light turns green. Thank you💖

Warning: a lot of cursing.

a/n: so i made the reader into a driver because i couldn’t think of any other context tbh. I’m sorry if that is annoying to anyone😅 Please be responsible drivers and don’t do dangerous things such as street racing irl!!

The rage inside you after you had crossed the finish line could enable you to tear down a full, mighty building with your plain, bare hands.

P2 couldn't have meant any less, not when the win was snatched right out of your grasp just two laps before the end of the race.

Charles fucking Leclerc.

You could've literally killed him as you got out of the cockpit in parc-fermé but you desperately wanted to do it when you watched the red Ferrari fly past your car on track.

"Irrational reactions cost too much." Your team principal had warned you when he saw how furious you were and how you were glaring at Charles' back in the cooldown room.

Admitting it felt like a defeat, but he was right. So you sucked it up, got on the podium, drank some champagne and faked some smiles then left without any further words to anyone.

Like a lot of F1 drivers, you chose to live in Monaco. You were oblivious to why each different driver chose to live there but you did purely because you loved its atmosphere. It felt like the holy grail of Formula 1 and sport cars and you were more than there for it. You loved it.

Therefore, flying home was always something you looked forward to, what explained the slightly better mood you were on when you boarded the plane after the race, your trophy in hand. You just went home and slept the exhaustion off, only waking up in the evening when your friend called you repeatedly, practically begging you to show up at a party just a few minutes away.

Having turned down way too many invites in the last few weeks, you agreed and got dressed in a black dress but ditched the heels for something comfier.

It was a few minutes before you were out the door and in your car, your pride and joy.

Deciding that you weren't in the mood for trafic and just wanted to speed down the road, you took a backroad. Sure, it wasn't deserted but it had way fewer cars than the main road. You smiled and let down the car windows, allowing the wind to breeze in as your foot pressed down on the gas pedal, the smooth sound of the engine being enough to calm you down after so much anger.

You were so relaxed as you took your time driving to your friends until you reached a red light. You stopped the car and looked out of your window towards the beautiful scenery of the night sky blending in with the dark sea, both of them littered with small sparkles, stars and boats. It was breathtaking until your view got obstructed by a car pulling up beside you. A fucking Ferrari Pista 488 Spyder. That matte black one everyone in the whole country of Monaco knew.

"You're fucking shitting me right now." You cussed under your breath, both your hands now fisting your steering wheel as you averted your attention to the street in front of you, trying to ignore the asshole who stole your win just a few hours ago.

Sure, the two of you were friendly but he was your rival and it was past half the season and the points were too close for comfort so the tension between you two was through the roof.

Charles noticed you right away. After all, your car was just as famous as his among people. For some reason, when he saw you mutter and turn away from him, he decided he wanted your attention. Smirking, he started loudly revving up the car while keeping it in its spot next to yours. He kept doing that, his engine sounding louder by the second until you felt yourself going insane.

"What?" You snapped you head in his direction and shouted at him.

It made your blood boil when he stopped his act and laughed.

"Race me. Get your revenge, babe."

"Fuck off, Leclerc." You looked away.

"What? You're obviously still mad i overtook you, so race me."

"You want me to race you? Fine."

You didn't even wait to see his reaction, you just stepped hard on the gas and the car shot down the street, taking Charles by surprise.

In your rear view mirror, you could see him hot on your tail, actually trying to catch up to you and somehow, despite you starting before him, he was close to passing you.

It was barely any time before he shot past you, honking at you as he did so. It enraged you.

In a matter of seconds, traction control was off and the car was switched on race mode. You foot was pushing the gas pedal down to the floor, your face twisted with anger. You were determined to overtake him.

"Over my fucking dead body, Leclerc." You said to yourself as you watched his car become closer as you accelerated, eventually becoming parallel to yours and he was fucking smiling.

It made you push the car to its limits and soon enough, you flew past him, quickly putting a decent distance between the two of you.

That's when it sunk in, what madness you were engaging in. Your manager would be furious and you wouldn't hear the end of it if everyone found out about this.

"Shit, what am i doing?" you kept repeating as you pulled up on the side of the road, taking in how unprofessional and unsafe that was.

Charles' cars pulled up behind yours and he got out quickly.

"I was joking but you won, i guess. Hope that did it for you but what the fuck has gotten into you? I thought we were good." He bent down and leaned on your window.

"Shut up."

"Alright, alright. I hope you remind yourself that it's racing and i will do anything to win just like you would."

"You fucking pushed me off track, Leclerc so don't hit me with that racing bullshit." You opened your door and got out, pushing him away in the process.

"It's not my fucking fault that you have no regard to track limits!"

"Oh, please. You knew exactly what you were doing!"

"Alright, whatever. Enjoy your night, princess." He waved you off and walked away.

This wasn't good. The PR team would hate you if they found out you initiated an off-track rivalry with Charles so you sighed and called for him.

"Charles..."

He heard you. You knew he heard you but ignored you.

"Charles... I'm sorry."

Yeah, that did the trick. He stopped walking and quickly turned to look at you at the sound of those words.

"You're what?"

"I'm sorry. Our teams will hate us if we start a fight."

"Oh, that's why you're sorry. Our teams. Okay, yeah. We're good. Bye." He curtly nodded and continued his way to open his car door.

You stormed toward him.

"Why else would i be sorry, Charles?"

"I don't know... Maybe human decency, or wanting to keeping whatever friendship we have." He shrugged and tossed his phone onto the driver's seat of his car, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're my rival."

"So?"

"So it's basically impossible to be friends!"

"Okay, i'll talk to you in a few months then." He got into his car and drove off.

Your stared at the back of his car until it disappeared out of sight, questioning what the hell he wanted. He left you dumbfounded because you never thought he'd want to be friends with you but you were even more weirded out that you were now looking forward for the season to end. Frowning, you shook that idea out of your mind, not believing you even thought of things that way, got back into your car and drove off to the party, your thoughts still about the monégasque.

Guess you'll have to wait a few months to see what he wanted.

#charles leclerc imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc oneshots #f1 oneshots #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 fics

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz @stayverse @districtninewriters @kpopscape @skzwritersclub + @sunoo-luvs @sleepylixie @rae-blogging @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah @p2q3r4 @baby-innie (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

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sanoluvs · 3 years ago

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my goofy ahh dream:

i was at school, but there was a school shooting [i think]

but it wasnt like just 1 shooter it was a full on bombing with like a whole ass gang scattered around the school. like in those movies where theres security guards everywhere but its just criminals yk?

and so idk why but the teachers put us all in like these lines, like on a road those ppl who stand with the stop signs and shit.

so it went like that.

so we finally got out and ran out then just...........................................................................................................................................................................black. just black.

and so i dont rlly remember but i woke up and so i remember nothing with waking up but the first thing i remember is that we were in the afterlife. like there were these groups of ppl split into teams of 3 ig? and god decided to be a b and made us all...work out ig? idk we were doing these chores and shit

+ heaven looks like hell. its red, theres like red rocks everywhere with volcanos and it looks like an orange desert.

so i was in a group with this one woman and this old ass man, and my friend somehow ended up there too (she doesnt even go to my school lmao)

so we took a bunch of courses or whatever and we still went to school (im guessing everyone died cus all the staff, teachers, and students were there) so we got impatient and we went to god's work..he worked in a building..he was like a CEO or smth, like a cool ass spy.

(we were doing quests for god to get another chance in life or smth)

(it was me, my friend, the woman, and the old ass man who came to see god)

so we came to gods work and somehow got past the security then jumped god but ig satan was coming cus we suddenly had a shooting :D

and god did some cool flexable moves like loid with a pipe in his hand..and so we got out and he took us into this limo and we drove away.

while we were driving away we went through this portal and we bid our final goodbyes. so then we were suddenly back at my school!

it looked normal, like nothing ever happened.

it felt like the fucking twilight zone or something (my teacher gave me too much reading assignments on the twilight zone)

and i facetime my friend, and this bitch is already at a diff house, so i ask that since we got reincarnated back into our bodies, if that means that our fam and friends will remember us.

and that bitch was so fucking chill about it with a smile on her face just saying "no" :)

like bitch u wont miss ur mom and dad???????

and so i see my mom with a missing poster of me in her hand...like wtf there was a school shooting why do u have a missing poster.

so i waste no time and i was like "nah she'll remember me"

so i run up to her and im like "mooooooooooooom" like running crying tears then this b......................................SHE WAS SO FUCKING RUDE.

she was like "get off me" and snarled at me, and looked at me in a disgusted manner

so i was like "wtf thats literally me mom" while pointing at the poster.

and she's like "no its not" so i take a bunch of time explaining to her what happened and..................................and the dream ended :D

the dream ended w/ me crying about how i hate reincarnation and death and it ended w/ my friend just saying that reincarnation helps u fix up any mistakes and how "its not free time, its education" i think she was referring to the course god put us through or smth

#[★] zo’s rants #tw shooting #tw violence?#tw religious..?

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romanogers-lyrics · 4 years ago

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TFAWS Ep 5: finally some good fucking ✨vindication✨

Scratch that rewind what I said- this is the best episode (maybe in comic book tv history). Closure, growth, and redemption 🙌 just when I was worried they wouldn’t be able to tie things up they fucking give me this 😩🤩👏✊🏽

Holy hell my poor heart died and ascended to the moon to hang out with Steve and Natasha. ✨Goddamn the mastery of storytelling in this episode is why I love the MCU so much ✨

The opening fight between Walker, Bucky, and Sam had me on the edge of my seat. Like in most fights you know the stakes are low because the main heroes always win but this fight... whew it was consequential and more personal than the civil war fight imo. I genuinely was worried about the outcome for Sam and Bucky physically and emotionally. Every beat was character driven! This was cathartic. 🙌 the stunt coordinators knocked it out of the park lovelovelove 💕.

“I am captain America” homie you giving me Gollum vibes. “It’s (the shield) MINE!” Like-

So many creative stunts with the wings!!!

Bucky and Sam working TOGETHER

BUCKY DROPPING THE SHIELD AT SAM’S FEET 😭

The golden light seeping into the frame at the end of the fight 🤌🏼

Sam wiping the blood off the shield. 🥲 I can’t even articulate but it makes me feel-

Sammy’s wings got snapped off and he eventually left them with Torres (passing the mantle?) which symbolizes Sam growing out of his old super hero role. It was cleansing. He’s ready to be more. He’s ready to take action rather than let things happen to him 👏

Baby boy Torres trying to talk to Mr Bucky 🥺. You have both sleeves today Mr Bucky sir 💕

I want no I NEED 😫Torres to fly in with the wings next episode.

How we feeling about Walker?? On the one hand I feel him. Us gov did him dirty but at the same time he made the choices he made. Maybe there is room for redemption? Idk... 🙃 or will he continue to get worse?

I am SO glad that Sam went back to talk to isaiah. He needed to know the full story. He needed closure. I could ramble on and on but the writers made the points so much better than I could but just-

Steve did the exact same thing as Isaiah in the first avenger. He went behind enemy lines to rescue Bucky- without permission! He was a hero for it. And Isaiah was thrown in jail? The double standard is so frustrating

I think Isiah’s point that “no self respecting black man” would use the shield makes sense with his background and story. It makes me sick what was done to him. Things really haven’t changed 😞. At this point I honestly wasn’t sure what Sam was going to do. More later on about this-

Zemo’s theme is so beautiful every time I hear it. 🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼

What a beautiful scene. Cinematography 💯 Such a great moment between Bucky and Zemo. Zemo fully expects to die and then Bucky does the one thing zemo didn’t expect- the one thing he wasn’t “programmed” to do. Fuuuuuckcjfkekxn

“I crossed my name off in your book” 😭. He obviously grew to respect Bucky and wants him to have peace at last with all the civil war stuff.

Ayo back to calling Bucky white wolf 🐺 love to see it.

The kids playing with the shield and tracing the star has me CRYING. Kids are our hope and they still see something special in the shield. They still believe in it. 😭 such a small moment completely floored me.

Wholesome boat fix up 🥺. I feel like this is the montage where SamBucky fall in love 😂

When Sarah and Sam are talking about the boat- how it is their history- I think again of Isaiah. His history was erased. Sam has to preserve his history ✊🏽

Sarah is a goddamn queen and I Stan 🤌🏼✨

The montage was just a sip of cool water in the desert of trauma that is the MCU.

OKEEEE the conversation between Sam and Bucky where they’re tossing the shield is great on so many levels 😍:

Physically the shield matches the dynamic of the convo. Someone makes a point and throws it. Someone accepts what that person said and catches the shield. Bucky physically offers the shield when he says “I’m sorry” and Sam accepts the shield AND the apology.

The difference between avenging and amending. I was surprised they even used that word bc it calls out the avengers for maybe not doing the emotional work involved in being a hero. Healing is part of the hero job now. #phase4

A small detail but as a person of color I valued it; when Bucky said I’m sorry Sam did not say “it’s okay” or “no worries” because he didn’t have to, I feel like as a POC I’m always making white people feel better and for once I’d like to be confident enough to just accept someone’s apology outright and know I deserve it.

Pivotal when Sam said “it doesn’t matter what Steve thought” at first I was like biiiihhh??! 😠 but he had a point. Both Sam and Bucky have been trying to do hold onto another person who is gone. They gotta heal but more importantly they have to find their own reasons to keep fighting.

The training montage 🤌🏼🙌🤩🥲🥺😭✊🏽. Like FEED ME YEs WE ARE EATiNG. Sammy deserves it all

Sam’s cap theme music is similar to Steve’s but still different. Goddamn so beautiful 💕💕😩

Sam has been pretty passive in this show- almost wanting confirmation he did the right thing. Isaiah didn’t give Sam that comfort but neither did Bucky at first. Sam had to make his own choice 😤✊🏽

It’s a heavy burden to be cap knowing all the shit that has come before but Sam is the only one who can make that decision to be or not to be. And he’s seen the alternative now. In life taking action and taking control of our situation is empowering but always harder than doing nothing. He says it best- what’s the point of all that struggle if you’re not going keep on fighting ✊🏽🥺 I love and respect Sam so much 😭 spoken like captain America! 👏

Show me the suit you COWARDS I WANNA SEe

Goddamnit damnit to hell... I need to SEE IT

Is Sharon setting a trap for Karli???

🚨 end credit: I’m not sure if they are making an iron man comparison. What do you guys think?

Ready for the showdown throwdown next week 👀

All in all it was fucking wild ya’ll and I felt catharsis watching this and so fucking hopeful. I cry 😭

Please feel free to share any thoughts you have about this episode💕

there’s so much in this show that is world building within mcu but also in greater conversations about heroism and power. It is a moral re evaluation of the superhero. Malcom Spellman being head writer you know this shit is not happenstance it is intentional. The took the long road and it totally paid off in this episode 😭

🙇🏻‍♀️ I am emotionally manipulated by this show 🙇🏻‍♀️

Huge shout out to all the cast and crew for making something both respectful to the lore but also challenging it to be better 🙌

My ep 4 review:

Tag list: @soliloquy-of-nemo

#romanogers #mcu #captain america #marvel #avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #stackie #sam wilson #sambucky #tfaws spoilers #tfaws #john walker #sharon carter #helmut zemo #marvel memes #joaquin torres

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turkey-korvid · 3 years ago

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Repressed Emotions Hat Man, aka Farhan’s Jotaro Kujo playlist

You can find it here I still need to add more songs to this thing but fuck it, sharing it now Explanations for why the songs are chosen below the cut, contains some stone ocean spoilers so if you haven’t at least watched the anime i recommend you look away (only Who Was She? has some big spoilers but still)

Poor George by James Supercave Yeah this song just fits a lot of characters, the lyrics just. Yeah they fit Jotaro, hell I’d even say the Joestars in general. “Poor George, poor George, he’s going blind to watch you lose” he was blinded by Dio’s blood right before killing him.

“Momma taught him right from wrong How to love and how to talk Poor George, poor George Never learned how to stop When you’re a star they let you do it Don’t ask me how It’s quiet in the dressing room The women all got loud” Holly being a good mom, Jotaro ending up being a delinquent. You know the events of sdc, Star Platinum awakens, causes Jotaro to lock himself away, and then Holly getting sick (”It’s quiet in the dressing room”) if i try to explain it in even more detail i think i’d die.

“Poor George, he’s growing up before your very fucking eyes” so you know how Jotaro comments on how he worries Star Platinum’s becoming a lot more violent? Yeah? Yeah..

Tardigrade Song by Cosmo Sheldrake Jotaro being an incredibly powerful person but really just wants to live a normal life with his family. “If I were a tardigrade I'd move out from home Why live in the shrubbery when you could have a throne?” Something something Jotaro and Dio parallels. “Pressure wouldn’t squash me” High Priestess, road roller “And fire wouldn’t burn” Wheel of Fortune

“If I shed all my liquid and let myself dry out I'll shrivel and sleep for some 15-odd years I'd wake up, come water, and get on with living With time in my pocket to pass by the day “ The heart stopping scene. Actually this can fit a lot of moments in Jotaro’s life lol.

“For I am a tardigrade And I'll stay at home I'd not trade it for anything Not a knife, a cup or a throne Well, all I want is my shrubbery (Ah ha) And my little patch of moss (Ah ha) With my whisky in the cabinet (Ah ha) And my feet all clothed in socks” He doesn’t want to rule the world, or do anything big really. All he wants is to be with his friends and family, who he would do anything to protect, even distance himself from them. Also i thought of baby Jolyne being called a “little patch of moss” and found it funny

A Horse With No Name by America (I just put the BoJack Horseman ver bc i like it) I mostly associate this song with the journey to Egypt. Some of the lyrics really do sound like what goes on in Jotaro’s head during the journey. “The ocean is a desert with its life underground And a perfect disguise above” idk how to explain this but yeah.

Who Is She? (reprise) Imagine this right before Jotaro faces Dio, think about it. Suffer with me. ”Who is she? She’s the echo I’m chasing Who is she? Oh I swore that I’ll never let her go And now the one I held so dear, my mind’s erasing” You ever wonder if Jotaro thought of his mom and the possibility that he’d never see her again? You ever consider how the last time Jotaro saw her she fainted? Because yeah. Yeah. And also the dead crusaders.. of which he wasn’t even there during their last moments. ”It takes a little boldness, and a little bit of magic I went on my own, but now I’m alone. I’m lost and I am panicked I think I should go, into thе unknown. So say bye, to the old..” he is just a kid. He is just a 17 year old kid who suddenly gained a terrifying power he himself is afraid of, and had to go on a trip to save his dying mother. Jotaro gained the ability to stop time out of desperation and won, but that doesn’t erase the trauma, nor does it bring back his dead friends.

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons Where do I begin with this one “Tremble for yourself, my man You know that you have seen this all before Tremble Little Lion Man You'll never settle any of your scores” Even though he killed Dio, the british man still haunts him and his family, and the journey in sdc still left scars.

“But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line. I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?” Guilt over leaving Jolyne to protect her.

Land Ho by Supertramp THIS PART specifically “When you're alone, there's not a sail in sight There's a grey-lit sky and you may just try to take your life There once was a lady made me feel alright But she couldn't stay, she just sailed away Now there's only waves to see me through the night” Holly, the one family member who has been with him throughout his childhood and loved him no matter what collapsing in front of his face due to the sickness and AGSHGXYUCHNXHJCYUD.

“Maybe I'll always be sad And maybe there'll always be strife Drifting alone with a saddened tone Afloat in the ocean of life” yeah this is self explanatory Jotaro has so much TRAUMA

Everybody’s Fucking With My Mind by Forrest Day Oh my god oh my goddddd ”It blows my mind every single time How you’re all dead and think you got ahead” Dead crusaders. Specifically Kakyoin who was so confident in thinking he got Dio cornered AGHH

“Everybody’s fucking with my mind, everybody’s fucking with my mind, everybody’s fucking with my time, everybody’s fucking with my time” Forrest Day songs make me insane associating them with Jotaro makes me even more insane.

“No control over anything I don’t really care, I’m just watching it unfold with a golden stare” there’s a reason why this was my discord status for so long MMMMMMM

Did Don’t Do by Don’t and Cosmo Sheldrake It’s very hard to explain this but this song feels. Dissociative? Idk, I just feel a certain way when I listen to it Anyways this is how I imagine Star Platinum and Jotaro communicate because stand and user connections are weird ”What say you? What say we?” <this line in particular

Sleepwalk by Forrest Day I mostly associate this with the beginning of sdc when Jotaro called his stand an evil spirit and saw himself as a danger to everyone around him. ”It scares the hell out of anyone around, the sounds are near” Yep! ”I wake, try to remember it Grab a glass from the cabinet Close my eyes, subconscious trapping it now Try to pry it open Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem” This poor boy is so confused and lost…

Purple Jaguar Eye Yeah just from the song title. You can see where I’m going.. ”Something's going on underneath your skin Oh, purple jaguar eye Open up and be alive See the world in vivid color There's no turning back” Star Platinum awakening. ”You've got all the love you need To run sure-footed, newly freed” the cr.. the crusaders… the first real friends he had. Abdul helping him handle having an Evil Spirit mmmngh

SUB-01 by Marskye Haha underwater song. No really that’s it. This song has no lyrics. I just want more people to listen to the GNOG soundtrack

Is Anyone There? By Jack Stauber Oh yeah oh yeah Jack Stauber song This song is literally about isolation that’s all there is to it ”Look up from your World Is anyone there?”

STAR Child by The Orion Experience Similarly to Purple Jaguar Eye this is very much associated with Star Platinum. Also the title. Yeah I couldn’t resist

Cuckoo Song by Cosmo Sheldrake This can actually just fit the Joestars in general BUT focusing on Jotaro.. ”What do you do? In April I open my bill In May I sing night and day (something something his dad being a musician. I like to think that during Jotaro’s childhood Sadao sometimes would do a little performance for his family) In June, I change my tune (the edgy phase) July, far off I fly In August, away…” sdc events

Who Was She? (STONE OCEAN SPOILERS) ”And she barely said farewell to all her friends And of course, she regrets leaving so quickly Though, if she got to go back, she’d do this all again” Yep. Getting disced, saying he loves his daughter for the first and last time because he thought it was over for him. I can literally imagine him singing this song in the afterlife/limbo and I HATE IT

“Who was she? I guess it doesn’t matter, she was loved” PAIN AGONY SUFFERING

#turkeykorviDIO #turkeykorvidcaws

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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago

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MSA: Take Back The Future (part 3)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Mystery, instead of answering Vivi’s questions, leaps over the seat dividing the front and back areas of the van, exiting out the back doors.

“Wait, ” Vivi yells after Mystery, “get to back here and explain what happened to my memories.”

/It is not a tale that can be simply told. Not right now when we may be in danger/

Arthur thinks kitsune turned dog sounds slightly strained but it’s hard to really tell with Mystery’s weird telepathy. When the meaning of words are projected right into your brain some of the nuance is lost.

“Who is Shiromori? Why is she attacking us?” Vivi tries, following to glare at Mystery who circles the van, barely paying attention to the two of them. “Just answer one question!”

His mechanical arm twitches of its own accord and he eyes it nervously. To hell with it. Arthur frees his hand and begins to feel about for the quick release lever hidden under a panel on his upper arm. After the van crash and almost getting thrown to his death, the arm had been too banged up to safely remove, jamming in place. Best to be rid of it now, before everything when to shit all over again.

The sound of his heavy metal arm hitting the ashfelt draws Vivi’s attention and she turns to give him a quizzical expression.

“Better off then on,” He explains, “Wasn’t really working that well anyway. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of the curse as well.” Honestly, this cruse is the least of his worries.

Vivi exhales and Arthur can see the stress pinching her mouth, pulling it down into an uncharacteristic frown, “If the curse is specifically attached to your arm then removing it might work. On the other hand, if it’s anything like the one that got my memories then who the hell knows what will work. I certainly don’t. Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

The last sentence is louder, directed at Mystery. There is no response from the dog who is staring off into the middle distance, head to one side like he is listening intently for something. Arthur offers Vivj an uneasy shrug. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Vivi’s memories, his arm, and the night they both went missing. However, his most recent run-in with dead-Lewis has him quickly reordering his priorities. None of the answers are going to mean much if he’s dead. Again…

Speaking of which… On the horizon, a purple light flares, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop. Arthur’s mouth goes suddenly dry and limbs feel very cold. Yeah, that seamed about right…

/You called this spirit Lewis?/ Mystery turns his head to examine him, expression troubled. /Are you sure?/

He gives a short nod, eyes darting from Mystery then back to the road. It looks like Mystery is planning something based on how his fur is glowing red. He’d seen a similar red glow on the night of Lewis’s disappearance and during the confrontation outside his Uncle’s workshop. How much did Mystery know about Lewis? The question sticks in his mind, painfully heavy.

“Lewis? You mean the purple fire ghost? The one that caused the van crash?” Vivi steps up next to him, eyes locked onto the truck which grows quickly larger, “How are we going to stop it from running us all over?”

It’s too late to try a drive or run away now. Even if he decides to run there is a steep rocky slope on one side and a sharp climb on the other. If he did make it down by some miracle there was just flat desert and no cover for miles. Arthur doesn’t voice this observation instead commenting in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “I don’t think you need to worry about the ghost running you over. I’m pretty sure he’s only after me. So…ah…maybe don’t stand near me?”

Why? Why was Lewis trying to hurt him? In his mind’s eye, Lewis and Mystery meld together into a nightmare inferno of fire, teeth and death.

“I don’t want you to get run over either.” Vivi’s voice sounds faint, coming to him like it has travelled a great distance. Too much fear packed into too short a timeframe is making it harder and harder to concentrate. The ice at her feet thickens into long sheets, which creep out over the road, freezing it solid. He is probably lucky his remaining arm hasn’t frozen off with how tight Vivi had been holding it. Maybe if he turns into a giant Arthur icicle and he can sit this whole thing out. The hysterical thought momentarily breaks through his mounting panic.

/Wait./

Arthur can almost hear the crackle of fire and the hum of the truck's engine.

/ You should not be drawing on so much of this power at once! You’ll damage the seal further!/

“I’m not letting Arthur die again. Anything comes near us and I’ll make whoever it is, regret it… that includes you.”

Vivi steps out so she is positioned in the centre of the road.

/I can handle this confrontation. There are still many aspects to the situation that you remain unaware of./

“And how am I supposed to fix that if you won’t tell me anything.”

/ I swear I will explain when there is more time. I only ever wanted to protect you./

“I don’t believe you.”

Vivi snaps the final sentence and punctuates it with a sharp hand gesture aimed at the oncoming truck. Several lines of ice stretch out and down the road, racing away from Vivi to meet the oncoming vehicle. Shining an ethereal blue, the frost coats the road’s surface, smoothing it over. Arthur catches the briefest glimpse of skeletal Lewis before the truck hits the ice sheets and the wheels suddenly lose traction. The sound of metal crunching is deafening, accompanied by the hiss of water abruptly vaporising. Heat and cold collide in a cacophony cracking ice and explosion of steam.

A flash of bright purple fire. Mystery disappears, obscured by the thick columns of steam. He finds himself being yanked to the side by Vivi just in time to watch the purple truck careen past in a shower of sparks and groaning metal. At such high speeds, it rams straight into and through the guardrails separating the road from the rocky slope. Stunned, Arthur watches it disappear over the edge. If Lewis hadn’t already been dead then Arthur might have been worried. The sound of banging and crashing, as the truck presumably roles several times, has him physically wincing. Scratch that, he was worried. Very worried. Worried enough that it overtakes his mental panic and replaces it with deep concern. How durable were ghosts? He doesn’t know and that scares him.

“Vivi! What the hell,” He finally manages to spit out, breaking his panic-induced stupor. He tries to rush past her, intent on checking for any signs of Lewis. He promptly slips. The combination of ice and his lack of a second arm throws off his balance and he ends up falling backward. He is saved from a collision with the ground by Vivi who seemed to now have supernatural levels of balance and was unaffected by the slippery surface.

“I …wow. That was… something.” Vivi breaths, examining the road still covered in planes of ice as if not quite believing it.

“Help me to the edge,” He interrupts, trying and failing to stand straight collapsing back on her, “I need to see if he’s okay,”

“Who’s okay? The ghost?"

“Yes.”

"You want to see if the ghost is okay? You said it was trying to hurt you?”

Arthur can practically see the concern and confusion now hanging over Vivi as she looks down from where she's holding him up by his one good arm.

“It’s just…a misunderstanding or something. I…we…might know this ghost.”

“What?”

“Just help me check.” He motions with his remaining arm. Visible through the plums of steam are thicker lines of darkened smoke coming from the space where the truck had disappeared.

....

Note: I’m Sorry to everyone who’s showed interest in this AU but i’m not sure if i’ll continue this since i’ve lost motivation. Here are some of the more coherent plot notes if people are interested in this AU. Feel free to ask questions if u have any :) .

...

- Shiromori shows up directly after Lewis’s crash, distracting Mystery. With all the steam obscuring their vision Arthur and Vivi don’t realise that Shiromori has arrived immediately, and there is enough time to briefly look for Lewis.

- Lewis makes it out of the truck crash only slightly worse for wear and tries to attack Arthur. Vivi moves to defend Arthur, then Arthur has to defend Lewis and it’s all very awkward for everyone.

- Lewis sees how scared Arthur is a reconsiders his revenge plot, hesitating long enough to get some dialogue in.

- Arthur finally gives Vivi a brief Lewis overview (sans the whole ‘he almost threw me off a fake cliff thing’). Vivi is suspicious and somewhat unconvinced. Lewis is slightly confused when Vivi starts referring to the alternate time line.

- Not time for further discussion because Mystery is fighting Shiromori and, since he had warning this time, he’s winning.

(fight scene stuff. Vivi rushes in to do something idk this part is not planned.)

Vivi overused ice abilities.

Lewis and Arthur have a moment alone.

Vivi, slightly untrusting of Mystery, ends up stepping to stop the two from fighting. (Vivi ends up saving Shiromori maybe??? a parallel to the original timeline). A dramatic moment where Vivi rushes in ( maybe takes a blow for Shiromori idk would depend on Shiromori’s backstory) and ends up injured.

- ??? makes an appearance, takes over Vivi instead of Mystery.

Some background world building stuff

- Vivi’s ice powers might become unsealed and she is vulnerable to ??? (spiritual energy is damaging to humans if too much is used at once or if is not used correctly)

- Yukino family are spiritual channels making them both more powerful and more vulnerable. Mystery holds a seal to the ability and it eats up a tails worth of power to maintain. Same deal with Shiromori, Mystery holds a seal to keep her fully realised abilities in check which also eats up a lot of power.

- The seal is damaged when Mystery is hurt

- Arthur is unaffected by the ice because he’s got some odd time based supernatural power which has bonded to vivi spiritual signtaure as well. This is the reason ??? want to possess Arthur. One possible resolution was for Arthur to figure out how to rewind time to the seconds before Vivi gets possessed, giving her a chance to defeat ???. It takes a lot of power which Lewis ends up giving to him.

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #msa fanfic #Vivi Yukino #arthur kingsmen #Mystery the dog #Vivi and Arthur friendship #angst #lewis arrives then imedetly exits stage left #paniced arthur #time travel au

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 4 years ago

Text

Gift Fic - Of a Hand’s Span

It’s officially over two months past due, so idk if I can call this a birthday gift, but I bludgeoned my way through a serious case of writer’s block for the very lovely @thereluctantinquisitor anyway! I realized too late that this might read as a bit of a rehash of the birthday fic you wrote me Kay, and I don’t consider myself an expert enough on your delightful OCs to think it’s at all in character, but I hope you enjoy the effort all the same! Thank you for always being a voice of encouragement and an incredible friend!! <3

~ 2500 words, of the Stonebreaker variety

------

When your year included a day spent swinging from the gallows, it seemed poor luck not to celebrate surviving it.

The realization found Sylda quietly, one scorching afternoon in the height of summer as she idled around the dingy inn room that she and Delver had spent too much of their dwindling coin on. They hadn’t had much choice in the matter; the little inn was about the only place a reasonable person could wait out the arrival of the caravans that ferried travelers through the heart of the wilds beyond the bustling little trade stop. So they had spent the last two days waiting, until the waiting turned to bickering, and the bickering to silence, and the silence to sudden, glaring memory.

Staring up at the pock-marked ceiling, Sylda checked the date against the calendar in her head, checked it a second time for good measure, then sighed and heaved herself up off of the groaning springs of the bed beneath her. Its complaints drew Delver’s attention from his third reread of the book that he was definitely not falling asleep to.

“Where are you going?” he asked hazily, on reflex. There was resistance in his voice already. Sylda shrugged.

“Out,” she said, just to annoy him. “Maybe down to the market. Maybe to a tavern with some better wine. Hey, if I’m bored enough, maybe I’ll find my way over to the Gilded Keys. That could be fun.”

“We need to be here when the caravan arrives,” Delver reminded her, blinking the mirage of the book’s pages from his eyes as she crossed to the door.

“Mhm.”

“And I’m not going to climb around the whole city looking for you.”

“Of course not. I’ll be back.”

“Sure.” Delver sighed, scrubbing half-heartedly at what Sylda assumed was the beginning of his latest headache. Then he straightened.

“Isn’t the Gilded Keys a brothel?”

Her answer was the door falling shut behind her.

------

It was a productive afternoon, all things considered.

She spent nearly all of it loitering around the fringes of the market square, indulging in the long-neglected impulses of a thief gone nearly legitimate. A bakery lost some small, pocket-sized rolls fresh from the oven. A grocer misplaced a lump of cheap butter and a wide-mouthed jar of jam. A vintner got a very fine payout for a bottle of strawberry wine from the purse of a nervous gentleman up the road who had used braided cord for his purse strings instead of tarred rope. All in all, child's work, but clean work nonetheless. As the sun began to fall behind the edge of the horizon, Sylda wound her way as far from the center of town as she dared, and scaled the first roof that looked stable enough to hold her. It was nothing more than a low, flat plane of straw mats several blocks from the market, packed down and then gone over several times with pitch and bits of clay until it was as solid and sharp as unhewn granite. The family of three that lived beneath it wouldn't hear her footfalls on something that thick, even without all of the arguing they were doing.

She settled herself down on the corner that jutted out over a deserted alleyway, dangling her feet over the edge as she spread her spoils out beside her. The bread was still warm from its stay in the satchel she had tucked against her chest, just enough to melt the harder edge of the butter that she slathered on top. Cheap though it was, it was still deliciously salty, accenting the sweetness of the jam and the tart pop of wine. She indulged in three of the rolls, and half of the bottle of wine, before she let the tension roll slowly out of her shoulders.

Another year, then.

By every metric, that was something worthy of a toast. It meant that she hadn’t been too slow or too stupid, or at least that she had been good at cutting an escape when she was. It meant that she had cultivated enough luck and favor to be more of an asset than a menace. It meant that she had kept herself fed and safe and alive, and that she had done so, consistently, season after season, for the better part of two decades.

Almost, whispered the traitorous voice in her mind, quiet as a shadow. Almost, and almost not. A shame, to have nearly lost so much to the rope, and to have it mean so little…

She silenced the thought with another angry gulp of wine. She had survived. That was plenty. She didn't owe the world anything past that; she didn't owe anything to anyone.

And to yourself?

Sylda lowered her bottle as the flash of anger fizzled. Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? She had survived, and in surviving had been dragged away from everything that she had ever known. Every blessing and curse of street life, every familiar face that she had loved and never thought that she would miss; all of it had been swept away from her like so much road dust under her heels, carried off in one whirlwind of an afternoon. Now, instead, she had a messy inn room to look forward to one night, a frigid road camp the next. She had the company of a man who irritated her nine days out of ten, whose need for her mostly involved being a particularly interesting puzzle. Oh, Delver was fine as far as traveling companions went, but he had been clear about the purpose she served him, and vice versa. An even trade. That hardly made him something to be relied on.

When she thought about it, truly thought about it, her blessings fit almost entirely in the span of her hands - these clothes, this butter, a handful of rolls, a bottle of wine -

“There you are!”

And she nearly lost the bottle of wine over the edge of the roof. Heart in her throat, Sylda spun in her seat as Delver's head suddenly appeared over the edge of the wall beside her, his face twisted into a grimace of effort as he struggled up over the side. Habit alone roused her to her feet quickly enough to reach him at the edge of the roof, and haul him up by the crook of his elbow.

"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked, bewildered, as he staggered to his feet. Delver just snorted and knocked the topmost layer of grime from his cloak.

"I’m doing what I explicitly said I wasn't going to do,” he said dryly. “I'm climbing all over this dusty speck of a supply town looking for you. It's been hours, Sylda."

Defiance edged up through the cracks in her surprise. "I told you I was going out.”

"Sure. And then you went and stayed out until nearly sundown, when we were supposed to be back at the inn, waiting on the caravan -"

"Oh, the caravan isn't here yet." When Delver arched an eyebrow, Sylda shrugged. "What? I’m right, aren't I? If it had shown up already, I’d have seen it, or at least heard the ruckus from the market. You can spot them coming a full league away, and I’ve spent years running rooftops. I know what to keep an eye for.”

“Do you?” Irritation touched the edges of Delver’s tone. “Well, that’s a relief. Because you didn’t seem to ‘keep an eye’ on the shopkeepers that you spent all afternoon stealing from. If you had, maybe they wouldn’t have known exactly who I was talking about when I asked after you.”

He made a flourishing gesture to his purse, which jingled pitifully against his waist. Newly emptied, Sylda realized with a wince. She could just about picture the shape of the conversation that Delver had been subject to when the shopkeepers that she had swindled recognized her description. Maybe she hadn’t shaken nearly as much rust off as she had thought. She chanced a sheepish grin.

“In my defense, I wasn’t exactly intending to go back to them.”

Delver huffed. “No, I bet you weren’t.”

The brush of an insult there was almost enough to raise Sylda to an argument, but Delver’s attention had already shifted down to her meager pile of plunder, still lain out on the roof’s edge. He eyed the simple fare over for a moment, frowning, then turned to steal a glance up at her through the dirty fringe of his hair.

“Why?”

She could have lied. Could have pretended that she didn’t know what he was asking, could have pretended she was just sharpening her skills again, could have chalked it up to boredom, plain and simple. But a ghost possessed her instead, and she said, “It’s my birthday.”

It was almost worth the admittance to see Delver straighten so quickly. “What?”

“My birthday,” she said again, a little stronger. The words were out; no use fighting them now. “Rolls around about every year or so, you know? I figured it was worth doing...something, after making it through another one.” She made a pointed gesture near her neck and then shrugged like it didn’t wake the rotten seed of that particular memory. Delver just nodded, suddenly as stiff-necked as a new actor. He looked down at the spread of her spoils at their feet again, then out over the dusty rise of buildings spiraling out around them, frowning.

"Kind of a shit place for a celebration, isn't it?" he asked after a moment. Sylda shrugged.

"I’ve had them in worse places," she said, with a twist of a smile. "And to be fair, it's still better than sitting in a tiny inn room listening to you snore your way through a book you hate."

Delver scowled. "I don't snore."

"No," said Sylda, full grinning now, "you thunder like a bear in heat, and that’s on your better nights. Really, I’m not surprised you don’t travel in the wilds much, since you’d be in very real danger of one of them trying to petition you for the night -”

She broke off just in time to duck out of the way of one of the bread rolls as it sailed past her head.

"I’m starting to regret coming to find you,” Delver snapped as she heaved herself upright, snickering.

“You didn’t have to,” she pointed out helpfully. "Actually, I’m surprised you found me at all. We're not exactly near the market, and your bad luck is legendary -”

Delver raised another roll.

“- which makes the fact that you did find me that much more impressive." She held up a hand in a half-hearted gesture for peace, and begrudgingly, Delver lowered his weapon.

“It wasn’t exactly hard,” he admitted after a moment, dropping the little hunk of bread back onto her spread cloth. “You said that you used to work on rooftops, back in Yelen. After the mess in the market, I figured the only place that you'd go is up.”

He looked away, back out over the rise and fall of the town’s silhouette around them, and a strange tightness suddenly coiled itself inside Sylda’s chest. Delver was right; it wasn’t a difficult assumption to make, that she would go scurrying back to the rooftops for her safety. But it still took knowing her. It took remembering. A Cipher’s long, long memory was a testament to the things they found important enough to keep. The notion that anything about her even approached that bar, even temporarily…

She suddenly found herself settling back onto the edge of the roof, gesturing Delver down beside her and holding the bottle of wine out towards him.

“You still had to find me,” she pointed out. “It’s not a big town, sure, but finding one rooftop in a thousand, well…”

She shrugged, leaning back on one hand. Some starved, wretched part of her knew exactly what she was doing. It was the child in her, reaching out with both hands, little fists grasping for another word, another reassurance, another little brush of that companionship. Anything to have more than just this bottle of wine. The shame of it burned like a wildfire in her chest, but if Delver noticed, he mercifully didn’t say so.

“I tried just taking the roofs myself,” he said instead, accepting the seat and her offered wine with a grunt. “Managed to get on top of one without falling flat on my ass in front of everyone. Almost celebrated. Then I had a knife at my back.” He sighed, and took a long pull of wine as Sylda stifled a startled laugh. “I don’t know why I expected most thieves to stay on the street after knowing you. The gentleman holding my spine hostage seemed to think I was part of another gang and had come to muscle in on his territory. Then he tried to rob me. Then I guess he realized I wasn’t even worth dulling his blade to cut my purse, so he told me to get back on the ground where I belonged. I've spent the last hour peeking up onto roofs at random and hoping no one tries to cut my fingers off.”

"We usually check for rings on them first," Sylda assured him with a grin, even as her child-soul latched its stubby fingers around the thought and reeled it close. For me, it crooned delightedly. For me, for me; all of it, done just for me! A fresh tongue of shame licked up her ribs, spitting like a new log on a fire, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to push it away. She was so warm, suddenly, shame and all. Maybe it was just curiosity, or frustration, or the ill-used dregs of duty, but Delver had still come looking for her. She hadn't needed him to; they both knew how easily she could work a town, even a small one, when she was being careful. But he had come anyway.

Even a very useful tool didn't warrant that sort of attention.

Swallowing the knot building in her throat, Sylda forced a shrug that she hoped looked nonchalant.

"Well, all the same, I’m glad you didn’t get your fingers cut off. Or fall off a roof. Or get robbed a second time." Delver leveled a glare at her over the bottle of wine, which she returned with a thin smile. “What? I’m serious! It’s a dangerous task, running rooftops like this. I just mean that I’m glad you made it up in one piece, that's all. It would be a pretty terrible birthday present for you to go and die on me."

Delver snorted. "Yeah, happy birthday," he muttered. "Now you’re sitting on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere while I drink away all of the wine that you stole. I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

Sylda just laughed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to correct him.

#my writing #other people's ocs #stonebreaker #thereluctantinquisitor #original fiction #i'm convinced I ran away with the characterization on this #so you have my deep apologies for that #i still hope it brings you a little bit of joy though!!#you deserve all of that and more :D

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