#this does relate heavily to my AU so I’m putting the tag here

[mzoyagon]

SABA headcanon:

The Uproar isn’t always this big, evil, monstrous force that people think it is. Matter of fact, the Uproar is necessary for Craftworld to function. Let me explain.

The Uproar is fear. When people have too much fear, they lose their mind, and become a danger to themself or others. What happens when people have too little fear?

They become reckless… And therefore a danger to themself and others.

Yes, Craftworld has the whole 'there must be balance between good and evil' thing going on, but it's pretty justified when your 'evil' is also the face of a literal survival instinct! There must be a healthy amount of Uproar in Craftworld to keep it in check, therefore protecting it just as much as the Knitted Knights do (as ironic as it sounds). Some safer instances of the Uproar are so benign, only the most keen eye would even be aware of its presence. The more visible instances are usually left alone unless they do become a threat, in which case it’s a Knitted Knight's job to purge them.

Vex was once tasked with maintaining the Uproar and keeping the balance, but over time he became corrupt and began using the Uproar for evil, which was when it gained the reputation it has now and became the rivaling force to the Knitted Knights. He still makes sure that the Uproar doesn’t go extinct, but if he sees an opportunity to throw Craftworld into despair and suffering, he'll take it. How come no one's come up to take his place? Well, it’s pretty hard to take a whole natural force from a powerful entity that refuses to give it up…

[provincial-girl]

Gretson Fic Recs

I’ve been reading boatloads of great A League of Their Own fic, specifically Greta/Carson, so I decided to try my hand at doing some Gretson fic recs. It’s something exactly no one asked for, but I used to love the whole fic recs thing, so I figured why not? This is just a smattering of the dozens and dozens of great stories I’ve read, which means it’s by no means an exhaustive list. I’ll split them up by whether they’re one shot or multi-chapter, with multi-chapter fics labeled complete or work in progress. Each description will have a link to the fic, a bit of spoiler-free info about it, the length, rating, and potential reasons for the rating. Please note, I’ve not included an exhaustive list of every potential trigger, so keep an eye on fic tags too. Also, most of these take place in the 1940’s, so assume there’s bound to be at least a bit period typical homophobia.

Multi-Chapter

Complete

Off-Season-A post season 1 Gretson reunion fic that’s well-written, very in-character, and clearly very well researched. The research makes this feel authentic, adds some depth to the fic in a way that keeps you engaged in the story. It’s complete, canon compliant, and gives all kinds of good Gretson feels. At just over 11,000 words, it’s a good fic if you want to spend some time with a story, but can’t make a huge time commitment. Rated M for sexual content.

Pizza with a Friend-I've really enjoyed everything I've read from Zulu, but this one here is a personal favorite. In one of the notes, the author describes the writing process as digging a comedy hole with an angst shovel, which is actually a pretty perfect way to describe it. There’s comedy and hijinks, often related to oblivious Baby Gay Carson, then there’s angst related to all of Greta’s Big Feelings, but it all manages to fit together really well, and the tone is somehow really consistent throughout. I’d say it’s canon divergent, but feels like it could fit within canon from a vibes perspective (don’t really know how else to explain it). It’s complete, and about 28,000 words, the kind of fic I might read over the course of 2 nights, though I’m sure it could easily be read in one evening. Rated E for sexual content sprinkled throughout, though the author carefully picks those moments.

‘Round and ‘Round We Go-Well written and cleverly plotted, this fic is kind of a time travel AU fic, but not in the way you’re used to. Carson lives in modern times, while Greta is from the 1940s. The fic is entirely Carson’s POV, and set in modern times, but I won’t say much more than that to avoid major spoilers. The inspiration for the fic’s version of time travel is apparently a novel called One Last Stop, though I haven’t read it, so I don’t know much beyond that. There’s some neat formatting at the start of each chapter that I really enjoyed. It’s complete at about 17,000 words, a great fic if you want something long, but not too long, the kind of thing I could  read in an evening if I wanted to sit with a fic for a little while. Rated T, not too much beyond kissing as far as sexual content. Though it takes place in modern day, occasional references to 1940’s homophobia.

Works in Progress

Just Put Your Hands on Me-The hurt/comfort fic to end all hurt/comfort fics. It’s all achingly soft Gretson, all the time. There’s moments of the Peaches shipping it too, but it heavily features scenes with just Carson and Greta, so there’s a lot of introspection and exploration of their feelings for one another. The author does a great job of using both Greta and Carson’s POV, often writing from one POV before switching to the other to describe the same events, but it never feels boring or unnecessary, because it creates a more complete picture of what is happening. If I had to label it I’d say it maybe drifts in the direction of slightly canon divergent, but I wouldn’t argue with someone calling it canon compliant. The fic isn’t complete, but has 19 chapters for about 48,000 words, probably a little over half an average sized novel, so there’s enough to keep you busy for a while. Rated T at the moment for mild sexual content (kissing and vague references to other things), though the focus of the fic is more on emotional intimacy.

Tinsel-An exceptionally well-paced, beautifully written AU that I absolutely cannot stop thinking about. It's a story in which Greta is a 1940’s movie star, and Carson is a secretary at MGM looking for an adventure before she settles down and marries Charlie when he returns from war. It’s really well-researched, which creates this amazing atmosphere that captures the dark underbelly behind the glamor of Old Hollywood. It’s also very in-character for everyone, particularly Greta, who I’ve found can be hard to pin down.  Not completed at the moment, but the first three of five chapters are up, and they average over 10,000 words each for a total of 37,000 words, which would be the length of a longish novella (short novel), so there’s plenty to read. Rated M, likely for scattered sexual content, pervasive period typical homophobia, general grossness of the studio system in Old Hollywood, and some heavy drug & alcohol use.

One Shots

Can this be a real thing? can it?-A gorgeously written one shot about times Greta and Carson dream about each other that perfectly captures the ethereal, otherworldly feeling of dreams. There’s some canon-typical angst, but it gets balanced out really nicely by some soft, happy moments. This is one of those 5 times +1 fics, and I’m weak for those, so this hit all my buttons. At 3,200 words, it’s the perfect length if you’re looking for a quick hit of some quality, canon-compliant Gretson content. Rated T, likely for kissing and references to the bar raid. 

She’s Like Us-A short, missing moment fic about the time Jess finds Carson asleep in Greta’s bed. It has the whole tone and vibe of the show captured perfectly, and you can really hear the character voices coming through. It’s from Jess’ POV, and, though they talk about Greta/Carson, it’s really about the budding friendship between Greta and Jess. At just over 1,000 words it’s a perfect fic if you want to spend a few minutes with the good vibes, queer friendship content that ALOTO excels at. Rated T, perhaps for allusion to period typical homophobia and smoking.

She is made up of more-A long-ish one shot from Greta’s POV. It’s a canon-compliant fic about Greta getting into a personal and professional slump somewhere around mid-season, and how she works her way out of it. It’s quite introspective and Greta-centric, but there’s a good dose of the rest of the Peaches in there too. There are sexually explicit sections, though this is definitely not PWP, as those sections are a key part of moving the plot forward. At about 6,500 words, this fic is great if you want something a bit longer than your standard one shot, but don’t have the time or inclination to read a multi-chapter fic. Rated E for several instances of explicit sexual content.

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

That’s all for now! There are some other fics I’m in the middle of reading that I was tempted to rec, but decided to hold off and only recommend stories I’m all caught up on. There's lots of other stuff I've read and loved, so I can definitely do some more of this sort of thing if folks are interested/looking for something specific in their stories. And if you read any of these recs (or any fic, really), don’t forget to leave some love for the story’s author in the fic’s comments!

[doomxdriven]

RULES AND SO FORTH

PREFACE

This is a low-activity, independent, crossover friendly multi muse blog that houses both canon characters (or canon-divergent I should say) and oc’s related to bleach! Do note that when I say canon-divergent for my canon muses, I really, really mean it in light of my headcanon-ing for those muses. Also, while the muses on this blog are from Bleach, I do not consider myself, this blog, or my muses to be heavily affiliated with the Bleach fandom itself-- love the series, but ultimately I'm going to write these muses however I want, and write them in whatever settings/au's/etc's that I want SFJHGSFDGHJ.

With that out of the way: my name’s mark, i’m 28 years old, tired af, but most importantly, pleased to meet you! I’ve been writing on this hellsite for more than 10 years now, and here I am, finally deciding to cluster some of my muses together in the hopes of being more active DFGHSDGHJFGH but we’ll see! Thank you for checking out this page and reading this far, please continue on down below to check out the rules I’d like you to keep in mind for  this blog and it’s muses!

1. This blog is low activity, as stated above, meaning that my activity can ebb and flow but will generally be pretty sparse. I work a very time and sanity consuming job that, well, eats up about 80% of my week and my energy e.e but I will try to be here  as much as I can.

2. This blog is selective, and mutual’s only, a.k.a, I can be kinda choosy in regards to who I follow back, and I will only interact IC with those I follow back. If you follow me and I don’t follow you back in a few days, I’m probably not going to, sorry (unless i’m on hiatus or something in which case I’m not actively checking up on my blog or followers or anything sdfjhgsdfjghs). I generally follow back all types of blogs (canon’s/multi’s/oc’s/etc) provided I’m familiar with their fandoms and/or can see us interacting in some way. Deplorables please dni though.

3. This blog does practice mains, and exclusives, but the latter will only ever be used for my closest friends. The latter aside, I am definitely open to writing with multiple portrayals of a muse, though mains will get higher priority, should I have them.

4. GODMODDING/META-GAMING: Having to put this down as a rule feels so cursed in the lords year 2023 (almost 2024) like, you’d think most people would know this by now, but, for the people in the back I guess; don’t god mod or try to control my muse without my permission and all that!

5. REPLY SPEED/LENGTH: I can be the slowest writer in the known universe so please keep that in mind when you are writing with me. sometimes it can take me weeks, or even a month or more than that to get to replies. i know that isn’t ideal for some people, and if that puts you off from wanting to write with me i completely understand, but that’s just how my brain works. sometimes i can put things out relatively fast, but thanks to the various factors of my life, most of the time my writing frequency is sporadic and my muse for threads can ebb and flow, so [insert shrugging here] that just how it be.

When it comes to reply length, i’m a big quality over quantity person. I literally do not care how big or small your reply is so long as you show enthusiasm and give me enough to work with when it comes to my response. likewise, i’d ask that you don’t hold me to any certain ‘quantity’ when it comes to my writing. i’ll make an attempt to match your length, but at the end of the day, i might not always be able to do that. i will, however, make sure to give you something to work with, instead of leaving the metaphorical ‘ball’ in your court all the time.

6. NSFW?: I don’t expect a ton of sexual-esque NSFW stuff to happen on this blog, but with some muses I suppose it is more likely. NSFW of any kind will of course be tagged accordingly, and put under readmores, but as far as hard-core smut goes, I, do not see myself ever publicly writing that, so situations of that nature, if they do occur, will be taken down the ‘fade to black’ route.

7. SHIPPING? Shipping of the romantic variety is not a huge priority for me, outside of the ships I have with my GF’s muses. There are some muses on my blog that I am potentially open to shipping with in certain circumstances (with good ic chemistry, and proper ooc communication being paramount for such things) ofc, but we'll just have to see how that all goes.

8.  MUN SELF-CALLOUT: I suffer from crippling social anxiety and I’m horrible about approaching people first, so if you want to write with me, your best bet is to just hit up my inbox to talk about things! if anything i try to keep an eye out for starter calls but i dont usually keep up with the dash so, those tend to escape me unfortunately sdfkhjsdfhjksd. If I’m following you, chances are that I want to write with you, but if I haven’t approached you yet….. you know why: i’m too socially inept for my own good sdfkjhsfkhjsdfkhj

9. I prefer not to engage with callouts or drama, and would prefer to see you, as a follower of mine, not fill my dash with the latter and be wise about interacting with the former. I personally will reblog callouts if I find there is real merit in them and awareness to spread, but otherwise I will generally avoid such things if its over petty shit.

10. Please specify which of my muses you are interacting with when sending in asks or liking starter calls. I’ll of course make note of such things in the tags of things I post, but if you like a starter call or send in an ask and do not specify which muse you are aiming at, you will get RNG from yours truly!!

OTHER IMPORTANT TIDBITS

– I can understand on some level why some people prefer their new followers to send in passwords or asks or something but I’m just not comfortable doing that I’m sorry sfhjkgsdgh if i’ve followed you, you can be assured that I have read your rules, but if you absolutely require me to send something in to confirm that then uh….. sorry its not going to happen ):

– I don’t engage in fight threads TOO often but I love them and am definitely down for brawls between our muses! That said I’d prefer we as mun’s sorta talk about where we expect those fights to go, and be realistic about our muse’s capabilities and such, especially if its a fight thread that may wind up with one of our muses being seriously injured!

– Mutual’s are welcome to ask for my discord, but I don’t talk on there very much or use it often-- it is a better place to contact me for plotting or other rp related things, though SFHSGHJDF

WILL ADD MORE LATER MAYBE? THANK YOU FOR READING THUS FAR THO UR AWESOME!

[gyusbambi]

humph; han seojun (pt 2)

 click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 3

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k

after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?

seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.

clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.

one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud. 

quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,

“what’s his problem?” 

_

it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him. 

the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.

however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.

suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance. 

juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?

it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?

while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.

before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,

“y/n?”

it’s han seojun.

frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.

“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.

“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.

“yes.”

“with whom?”

taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.

“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”

abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.

“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.

nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you, 

“your motorcycle-”

“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”

at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.

when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,

“y/n, long time no see!”

“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.

soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.

in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster. 

seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?

yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg. 

noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.

heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps. 

claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.

moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you. 

“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.

it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.

“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”

“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,

“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”

“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.

“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”

“it’s water, y/n!”

it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.

with a mirthless smile you shake your head,

“you’re the dumb one.”

after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind. 

and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.

_

the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.

“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.

sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”

oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.

“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.

after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,

“i’m so sorry.”

“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.

the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break. 

considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.

however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.

“yah, y/l/n y/n.” 

you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,

“come out.”

the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,

“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.

“you better stay out of this.”

han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.

your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall. 

blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.

“you think you can piss me off easily?”

you’re taken aback when he snaps.

“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.

after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.

“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”

“i have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.

“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”

frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,

“and what do i have to do with that?”

“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,

“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”

“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.

“you did, i gave them to you last week!”

seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.

“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.

“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.

“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”

oh no. he absolutely didn’t.

“when did you do that?”

“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.

precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms. 

all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.

however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.

seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,

“how did they get them then?”

suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,

“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”

he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.

“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”

you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.

a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.

right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.

both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it. 

why are you so nervous suddenly?

why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?

carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.

in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.

after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.

probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”

“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,

“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.

seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.

there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.

_

time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful. 

as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty. 

one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you��re not paying attention to him.

sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well. 

as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats. 

you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho. 

oh, well.

both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.

as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now? 

when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.

han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,

“chorong-ah, change seats with me.” 

“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.

the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.

letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.

of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.

“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,

“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”

“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.

but sua was wrong.

half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words. 

right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.

feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.

out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle. 

seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout. 

no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you. 

he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.

still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.

the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.

he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.

“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.

suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.

before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,

“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless. 

“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”

seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.

“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.

the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.

seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.

little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.

_

to be continued...

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas   DumbDog: No? I do too.   stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Five

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: New characters, yay! Just an fyi but I would like to start posting one chapter every week... thots?? Also, I've been thinking of adding a taglist? sksk I know it would be small but I personally love to get tagged when new chapters come out for my faves. If that's something ya'll would like comment so I know!! Alright, back to your regularly scheduled program :)

----

Literature was next. Now this? This you could handle. Always being a bit of an avid reader, you could devour a novel in one night --- and you often did. Finding the hidden meanings between the lines of text, like unwrapping a present, gave you a thrill. You were the person who could debate for hours about the meaning of a symbol in a book, as annoying as that is to everyone else.

Maybe it was the promise of escape, where you could be transplanted into another world, detached from your own, that appealed so much to you about reading. You could lose yourself, feeling the rush of the love affair or the thrill of a dangerous adventure. Coupled with your analytical nature, you felt more than at home in a literature classroom.

With this in mind, you make your way to your next class with more vigor than usual. When you arrive and take a seat, you pull out your materials and wait for class to begin.

Several minutes later, your professor walks to the podium in the front of the room to introduce herself. After several minutes of reviewing the syllabus, she explains the structure of the class. You were to be placed in small groups, to discuss the readings and write a paper at the end of the semester. This made you a little nervous --- having to rely on others to some capacity for your grade always gave you a bit of anxiety.

She began reading out the names of the students belonging to each group, so you listen carefully as to not miss your own name despite your anxious thoughts swirling inside your head.

“... Eum Hee-Young, Gal Ae-Cha, Ree Mun-Hee, you are group seven. Kim Seokjin, Y/l/n y/f/n, Kim Namjoon, you are group eight. Ok Youngsoo…” her voice fades off as you glance around the room, trying to meet the gazes of other searching eyes as your group was announced.

Your eyes meet those of a guy who looked maybe a year or two older than you, with round, wire frame glasses. His mahogany hair was pushed off of his forehead, parted to the side giving him a youthful but put-together look. He holds up eight fingers, looking at you expectedly, and you nod quickly. He picks up his belongings, preparing to move to you as you had empty space in the seats around you. As he slings his backpack over a shoulder, you scan your eyes around the room to try to catch the other member of your group.

To your surprise, your eyes meet those of the same boy you had ogled over yesterday in your calculus class, before it had started. You shyly hold up your own eight fingers, to which he gives a decisive nod to, and begins to make his way to you as well. You can’t help but notice the planes of his back as he bends down to grab his backpack, his wide shoulders tilting making them seem even larger. He is wearing a simple blue button down and jeans, but even through that you could tell his shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, making him have the perfect masculine inverted triangular build.

Slightly embarrassed at your thoughts, you glance at your other partner, now close to you. His oversized yellow knit sweater swallowed him a little, but with the glasses gave him a cute bookish look. His large frame juxtaposed his cute appearance --- he was on the taller side and seemed built as well. You made eye contact, and gestured to the seat next to you for him to sit. The other boy now approaching, you both watch as he takes the other open seat in front of you.

Your group now assembled, you tune back into your professor who was explaining the first text you were to read together. She told you that it was a short love story that relied heavily on symbolism and became a prominent symbol in and of itself in movies and television. Your first assignment was to analyze the symbolism of the text, and come to a more complex conclusion than what the surface of the text presents. You could feel yourself becoming slightly excited to jump into the assignment as she explained.

“You will be given the rest of class to get acquainted with your group members. They will be permanent, bar any issues that may arise. The first assignment is due at the end of next class. While on this first assignment I will be more lenient with grading, please do your best and set a good standard for your groups. Okay, go ahead everyone,” she finishes.

At her dismissal of your attention, you glance back at your group members. The boy with glasses speaks first. “I’m Namjoon, nice to meet you guys.”

“Seokjin, or just Jin,” the other boy gives.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you both.”

“So, what year and major are you? I’m a third year, and a journalism major,” Namjoon offers. As he speaks, he gives you both a grin that displays deep dimples on both cheeks. He was very cute, you decided. He had a nerdy charm to him, with a build on the beefy side that made you want to cuddle him.

“I’m a first year… and to tell the truth I haven’t decided on a major yet,” you admit, but give them both a smile.

“Ah, hoobae, you are lucky you are with us pros then! I’m a fourth year, and a business major,” Seokjin says with a wide smile.

“Sunbaenim, are you in calculus before this? I thought I recognized you from there,” you downplay a little. You knew he was in that class since you had spent time checking him out in it, but didn’t want to seem creepy.

“I have a recognizable face.” At this he gives a smug look, but is clearly using a joking tone. “Yeah, calculus with Yoo at nine?”

“Yep. That guy goes so fast,” you frown. “But anyways, how do you guys feel about this assignment?”

Namjoon enters the conversation again, “Honestly I’m kind of excited for it. It’s been a while since I’ve done any reading that isn’t research related, which kind of sucks.”

“That does suck. I love to read, that’s why I took this class, actually,” you empathize.

“Yeah? What do you like to read?” Namjoon leans towards you a bit, excited at the prospect of talking about reading it seems.

“Oh, um… I’d say my favorite genre is probably any type of fantasy, I like being able to be in a different world for a bit. Oh, I also like historical pieces, that stuff is always so interesting.” You were a little hesitant to share, afraid he’d judge your preferences.

“I love historical pieces. I think that’s one of the things that lead me into journalism actually, it’s basically writing history for those in the future to look back on. I just think that’s really cool.” His eyes seemed glitter as he talked about something he was obviously passionate about. You felt yourself developing a soft spot for the boy, finding his friendly disposition and slightly nerdy personality to be incredibly endearing. It didn’t hurt he was also very attractive.

“What about you sunbaenim? Do you like to read?” you ask Seokjin, whose head was oscillating between you and Namjoon.

Surprised the attention shifted to him, his eyes widened to give him an owlish look. You are really surrounded by some beautiful men, you think. What do they put in the water here? It would be normal to run across a cute guy here or there, but this is kind of ridiculous. Seokjin himself has a face that is so beautiful it looks like it should have been carved out of marble!

Focus! You have to scold yourself. The boy you were just admiring in your head is now answering your question and you are too distracted to even process what he’s saying.

“... not too crazy, occasionally I guess…” His body language told you that he was slightly embarrassed at not being as enthusiastic a reader as you and Namjoon.

“I’m sure you have hobbies that are cooler than reading then, if I was athletic or creative I wouldn’t read so much either! Namjoon-sunbaenim, I’m sure you agree,” you encourage with a smile, wanting Namjoon to follow suit in making Seokjin feel comfortable.

Thankfully, he catches on quick. “Oh, yeah, I am way too clumsy to do anything more high stakes than page turning,” He chuckles. You and Seokjin both smile at Namjoon’s subtle self-deprecation. They both were sweet, you think. Your earlier fears about working with others subside. “I guess I could say that I do have another hobby though, I actually help out at the school’s radio station for fun,” Namjoon adds shyly.

Jin tilts his head in surprise. “Oh really? I have a friend who…”

He gets abruptly cut off by the professor’s voice echoing through the room, which causes him to stop his thought.

“Hopefully everyone is acquainted now, and is ready to get to work next class. I expect good things from you all this semester. You are dismissed,” your professor says with finality.

The three of you quickly gather your things, ready to merge with the swarm of students streaming out of the door. You give them both a smile, and say, “It was nice meeting you both. See you next class!” to which they give their own farewell.

As you leave, you check your phone out of habit. It seems your intuition is right, as usual.

*Miss me yet?*

Does Taehyung really have nothing better to do?

*What exactly is there to miss?*

You hope that after your curt response he’d get the memo. This guy is such a fuckboy, you think. While you don’t know why he set his sights on you for now, you hope he gets bored soon. While you give that tough persona to him, the truth is you are more sensitive than that. The idea of being used for sex once and then discarded was unappealing, and Taehyung seemed like the type to do just that.

----

Finally home after attending two more classes for the day, which were thankfully much less eventful, you slip off your shoes and let your bag slide off your shoulder to thunk on the floor. You were tired. And hungry, apparently, because your stomach makes some concerning noises as soon as you slip your light jacket off. You make your way to the kitchen at the sound, ready to make a nice dinner and decompress.

When you get there, you see one of your new roommates sitting at the stools for your kitchen counter. This roommate was one that you had connected with immediately, drawn to her blunt but fun-loving aura. Her short stature, shorter than average, gave no warning for her and ‘gives-no-fucks’ attitude. You could tell however, that inside she had a soft heart. Even in your short time together, you had seen glimpses of it here and there.

You learned when you had met that she had moved to Korea from America last year, making her a second year at your university. Her features stood out from the crowd, with brown skin and large curls that framed her face in a halo. She was really quite beautiful. Tia, but called Bean by her friends, which now included you, made you feel welcomed to campus and you were thankful for her.

Wanting to not scare her as you walked into the kitchen, you gave her a greeting. Her head pops up from where it was buried in her phone, which had been drawing her into her own world.

“Hey chickie. Long day?” she asks. Apparently your exhaustion was pretty obvious if she could tell right off the bat. You sigh, bending over to pull some vegetables out of the fridge.

“I just want to know who let me schedule four classes on Tuesdays. They should be in jail,” you complain.

She gives you an amused look, watching you now stand at the cutting board to prepare your food. “I think that person was you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. If I could go back in time and slap my past self I would,” you grown with your head tipped back. She lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Don’t laugh at me unnie! I’m going to pass away from exhaustion over here!” you try to say seriously, but can’t help but let out a little giggle. “What were you doing with your head buried in your phone, huh? Are you talking to someone?” you tease, pointing your knife at her with your other hand on your hip.

“Why, do you wish it was you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, giving you a side smirk. You knew she was deflecting, so you lift your eyebrow and give her a flat expression, waiting for her real answer. “Ugh, it’s nothing. There was just this really cute girl in my class today, and I tried talking to her but she didn’t really seem like she liked me… and I may have just been looking at her social media,” Tia admitted.

Now at the stove, stirring your dinner, you look over your shoulder to say something that would hopefully ease her anxiety. “You know that you can come on strong sometimes, maybe she’s just a little shy, ya know? Maybe try again with a softer approach,” you offer. “What is there not to like?”

She gives you a wide grin to match your own at your last remark. You both giggle, any tension in the air from Tia’s concerns gone. Dinner now finished, you grab two bowls and serve you both. You both slip into easy banter, almost like you two have been friends for years. You hope that you will be, someday.

[a-froger-epic]

The Queen fandom, Freddie Mercury and Characterisation

Or: Why are those anons like this? Why are those writers like this? Why don't we understand each other?

In this essay, I will-

No, I’m serious, I will. And this is an essay. It’s roughly 2500 words.

The friction, concerns and hurt in fandom around Freddie’s characterisation - most recently centred around a fic the author tagged as ‘Bisexual Freddie Mercury’, stating in the notes that they have chosen to write Freddie as bisexual - have given me a lot to think about. And if you have been asking yourself the questions above, this here might be of interest to you.

First off, why do I feel like I need to talk about this?

The answer is not: Because I’m so very influential in fandom.

I think my influence in this fandom has been vastly overstated by some people. If I were so influential, everybody would rush to read anything I rec or write. And trust me, they really don’t. My relevance is confined to a very specific part of the fandom. That part is made up of: Freddie fans, Froger shippers, some Roger fans, a handful of writers who like to support each other and like each other’s work, and people who are really into research.

There are many parts of fandom where my opinions are entirely irrelevant. Looking at the big picture, by which I mean only the Queen RPF fandom, I simply am not that important. Looking at the even bigger picture: the Queen fandom as a whole, the majority of which doesn't read or care about RPF - I am literally nobody.

Furthermore, everything I will be talking about here is in relation to the RPF-centred part of Queen fandom.

So why this public essay?

Because I have been deeply involved for two years in a divide of opinions concerning how Freddie ought to be written and how people think of RPF. I think this is in large part because I - like several other authors currently writing for the fandom - absolutely love research. It's my idea or fun. I love to dig into these real people’s lives. Not everybody does that and not everybody is comfortable with that. It’s a personal choice depending on people's levels of comfort surrounding RPF. But this does put me firmly in the camp of Freddie fans who like to explore who this man really was, and track down every last fact about him.

Freddie Mercury vs. Fictional Freddie

I’ll admit that I am one of those people who have the urge to speak up when they see somebody claim that Freddie was bisexual, and sometimes I will say: “Well, actually, we do know that he didn’t see himself that way, because…” For me, these have often been positive exchanges.

I think there is overwhelming evidence that Freddie Mercury identified as gay from his split with Mary to the end of his life (wonderfully curated here by RushingHeadlong). In the niche of fandom I have frequented over the last two years, as far as Freddie the real man is concerned, I have barely ever seen anybody argue with this.

But fanfiction and talking about real Freddie are not one the same thing, and they shouldn't be, and as far as I am concerned they don't have to be. Some writers like to put every last fact and detail they can find into their fic, in an attempt to approach a characterisation that feels authentic to them (and perhaps others), and other writers are simply content to draw inspiration from the real people, writing versions vaguely based on them.

But writing historically and factually accurate RPF is more respectful.

Is it? I've thought about this for a long time, and I really can't agree that it is. This, to me, seems to presume that we know what kind of fiction these real people would prefer to have been written about them. That, in itself, is impossible to know.

However, if I imagine Freddie reading RPF about himself, I think that he might laugh himself silly at an AU with a character merely inspired by him and may be really quite disturbed by a gritty, realistic take full of intimate details of and speculations about his life and psyche. Such as I also tend to write, just by the by, so this is definitely not a criticism of anybody. Freddie is dead. Of all the people to whom the way he is written in fiction matters, Freddie himself is not one. There is no way to know what Freddie would or wouldn't have wanted, in this regard, and so it isn't relevant.

Personally, I can't get behind the idea that speculating and creatively exploring very intimate details of Freddie's life, things he never even spoke of to anybody, is in any way more respectful than writing versions of him which take a lot of creative liberties. As I've said so many times before, I think either all of RPF is disrespectful or none of it is.

So who cares about Freddie characterisation in fiction anyway?

Clearly, a lot of people do. Freddie Mercury was an incredibly inspiring figure and continues to be that to a multitude of very different people for different reasons. There are older fans who have maybe faced the same kind of discrimination because of their sexuality, who saw Freddie's life and persona distorted and attacked by other fans and the media for decades, who have a lot of hurt and resentment connected to such things as calling Freddie bisexual - because this has been used (and in the wider fandom still is used) to discredit his relationship with Jim, to argue that Mary was the love of his life and none of his same sex relationships mattered, to paint a picture where "the gay lifestyle" was the death of him. And that is homophobic. That is not right. I completely understand that upset.

But.

These are not the only people who care about Freddie and for whom Freddie is a source of inspiration and comfort. What about people who simply connect to his struggles with his sexuality from a different angle? What about, for example, somebody who identifies with the Freddie who seemed to be reluctant to label himself, because that, to them, implies a freedom and sexual fluidity that helps them cope with how they see their own sexuality? Is it relevant why Freddie was cagey about labelling himself? Does it matter that it likely had a lot to do with discrimination? Are his reasons important? To some degree, yes. But are other queer people not allowed to see that which helps them in him? Are they not allowed to take empowerment and inspiration from this? Can you imagine Freddie himself ever resenting somebody who, for whatever reason, admired him and whose life he made that little bit brighter through his mere existence, however they interpreted it? I honestly can't say that I can imagine Freddie himself objecting to that.

This is the thing about fame. Anyone who is famous creates a public persona, and this persona belongs to the fans. By choosing that path, this person gives a lot of themselves to their fans. To interpret, to draw inspiration from, to love the way it makes sense to the individual. Please remember, at this point, that we are talking about how people engage with Freddie as a fictional character creatively. This is not about anybody trying to lay down the law regarding who Freddie really was, unequivocally. This is all about writers using his inspiring persona and the imprint he left on this world to explore themes that resonate with them.

This is what we as writers do. We write about things which resonate with us and often touch us deeply.

But don't they care about the real Freddie?

Yes, actually, I would argue that a lot of people care about "the real Freddie". It seems to me that depicting Freddie as gay or with a strong preference for men is what the vast majority of the RPF-centered fandom on AO3 already does. You will find very, very few stories where Freddie is depicted having a good time with women sexually or romantically. That he was mostly all about men is already the majority opinion in this part of fandom.

But another question is, who was the real Freddie? If the last two years in fandom have taught me anything, it is that even things which seem like fact to one person can seem like speculation to another. I have personally had so many discussions with so many people on different sides of the debate about the exact circumstances of Freddie's life and his inner world, that I must say I don't think there is such a thing as one accurate, "real" portrayal of Freddie. Even those of us who are heavily invested in research sometimes disagree quite significantly about the interpretations of sources. So that narrows "You don't care about the real Freddie" down to "You don't care about Freddie because you don't interpret everything we know about his life the exact same way I do". Sure, by that definition, very few people care about Freddie the same way you do.

The bottom line is, there are so many writers and fans who love him, people who are obsessed with him, people who care about him deeply. They might care about who they believe he really was or who he chose to present himself as to the world, the way he wanted to be seen. But ultimately, in my personal opinion, if somebody is inspired to write Freddie as a fictional character they feel that Freddie means a lot to them. And it is hurtful to accuse them of not caring.

But what some people write hurts/triggers me.

Yes, that can happen. Because the nature of AO3 is that everything is permitted. Personally, I am very much in agreement with that. You will also find me in the camp of people who are against any sort of censorship on AO3, no matter how much some of the content goes against my own morals or how distasteful I find it. Some people disagree with that, which is fine. We must agree to disagree then. Here, I would like to quote QuirkySubject from the post she made regarding this whole situation because I cannot put it better myself: “The principle that all fic is valid (even RPF fic that subverts the lived experience of the person the fic is based on) is like the foundation of [AO3]. The suggestion that certain kinds of characterisations aren't allowed will provoke a knee-jerk reaction by many writers.”

No matter how much you may disagree with a story's plot or characterisation, it is allowed on AO3. "But wait," you might say, "the issue is not with it being on the site but with people like yourself - who should care about "the real Freddie" - supporting it."

This is some of what I have taken away from the upset I have seen. And it’s worth deconstructing.

I've already addressed "the real Freddie". Moving on to...

The author is dead.

This is something others might very well disagree on as well, but to me the story itself matters far more than authorial intent. And what may be one thing according to the author’s personal definition, may be another thing to the reader. Let’s use an example. This is an ask I received yesterday:

This author thinks they were writing Freddie as bisexual. However, going by the plot of their story, I would actually say that it is largely very similar to how I see the progression of Freddie’s young adulthood. To me, personally, Freddie would still be gay throughout the story because he arrives - eventually - at the conclusion that he is. The author and I disagree on terminology only. And I think simply disagreements about terminology, given that some terms are so loaded with history in Freddie’s case, trips a lot of people up.

It seems to me that many people still equate bisexuality with a 50/50 attraction to men and women, when in actual fact many - if not most - bi/pan people would say that it is nowhere near that distribution. Some people are of the opinion that anybody who experiences some attraction to the opposite sex, even if they have a strong same-sex preference, could be technically considered bisexual. (However, sexuality isn’t objective, it’s subjective. At least when it comes to real people. What about fictionalised real people? We will get to that.)

Let's briefly return to real Freddie.

What I'm seeing is that there are several ways of thinking here, with regard to his sexuality.

1. Freddie was gay because that seems to be (from everything we know) the conclusion he arrived at and the way he saw himself, once he had stopped dating women. Therefor, he was always gay, it just took him a while to come to terms with it.

2. Freddie can be referred to as bisexual during the time when he was with women because at that time, he may very well have thought of himself thusly - whether that was wishful thinking and he was aware of it or whether he really thought he might be bisexual is not something we can say definitively. He came out as gay to two friends in 1974 on separate occassions, and he talked to his girlfriends about being bisexual. (Personally, I think here it is interesting to look at who exactly he was saying what to, but let's put my own interpretations aside.)

3. Freddie can be seen as bisexual/pansexual because his life indicates that he was able to be in relationships with both men and women and because there is nothing to disprove he didn't experience any attraction to the women he was with. Had he lived in a different time, he may have defined himself differently.

Now, I'm of the first school of thought here, personally, although I understand the second and also, as a thought experiment, the third.

I think all of these approaches have validity, although the historical context of Freddie's life should be kept in mind and is very relevant whenever we speak about the man himself.

But when we return to writing fictionalised versions of Freddie, any of these approaches should absolutely be permissible. Yes, some of them or aspects of them can cause upset to some people.

And this is why AO3 has a tagging system. This is why authors write very clearly worded author's notes. This is the respect authors extend to their readers. This, in turn, has to be respected. Everybody is ultimately responsible for their own experience on the archive.

Nobody has the right to dictate what is or isn't published under the Queen tag. As far as I am concerned, nobody should have that right. As far as I am concerned, everybody has a responsibility to avoid whatever may upset them. I understand where the upset comes from. I also maintain it is every writer's right to engage with Freddie's character creatively the way they choose to.

None of us can control how other people engage with Freddie or the fandom. None of us can control what other people enjoy or dislike about the fandom.

The best way to engage with the content creating part of fandom, in my opinion, has always been to create what brings you joy, to consume the content that brings you joy and to respectfully step away from everything that doesn't.

[wooyunhwa]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

view pinned post for masterlist!

Genre: smut (with plot), angst

Pairing: mafia au!seonghwa x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k 

Warnings: violence, lots of angst 

Synopsis: The truth comes to light as things take a turn for the worse. Seonghwa’s family secrets are darker than you imagined, and you find yourself caught in the crossfire. How can things ever return to normal?

A/N: I’m sorry in advance for what I’m about to put you all through. Technically still smut but mostly plot here! This is my favorite chapter so far from a writing and a reading perspective so I really hope you all enjoy!! Comments are super appreciated as always! <3 My posts are disappearing from the tags so if you read this and enjoy a reblog is really appreciated so my work can be seen! 

Panic. 

That’s what you felt as you gathered a small bag of your things. You felt like you were packing up your things to evacuate for some sort of natural disaster. It all happened so fast, throwing some clothes and your most prized possessions in a bag and flying.

It wasn’t long before you were in the passenger seat of his car. He peeled out of your driveway and onto the highway before you could even register the events of the past 10 minutes fully in your mind. Why was he so urgent? Why were you in danger? Where were you going?

In your state, you could only choke out a few confused words. “Seonghwa, what the fuck?”

“I guess I promised I’d explain, didn’t I?” He had his eyes glued on the road, but you noticed him shift in his seat nervously. “There was a fight... with my father. He told me he found out about you. That I’d been seeing you.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. But he threatened to have you… removed.”

Your heart sunk in your chest, nausea building in your stomach. “Removed? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Killed, probably. It usually does. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve put out a hit on someone to protect the family’s interests. And it wouldn’t be the last.”

Your limbs felt like lead as you took it in, glued to your chair by what felt the weight of the entire world. You sat silently for a while, unable to process the breadth of the situation fully. You didn’t even feel like crying, you just felt truly speechless. You were snapped back to reality by his hand stroking your thigh, the other gripped tightly around the leather steering wheel. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he comforted. His soothing voice helped to calm your nerves as you watched the scenery fly by. “I’m gonna make sure it’s okay.” 

You didn’t talk for a while after that, not quite sure what to say. Your legs trembled slightly, but you managed to get your breathing under control. You made light conversation, or attempted to at least, but it felt contrived at best. Why were you so nervous to talk about anything serious? You were literally escaping from the fucking mafia, but the idea of talking about Seonghwa’s father felt too off limits. You gathered the courage to ask something that had been on your mind for a while. Seonghwa had talked very little about his position within the mafia, other than the fact that he was the boss’ son. Otherwise, you knew very little about its structure. 

“About, uh… your family. There’s something I’m confused about.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at your sudden curiosity.

“The guys who helped you rescue me—Wooyoung and Jongho—you called them your cohorts. Who are they? In—in the mafia I mean.”

Seonghwa sighed. It was something he always did before revealing information he knew shouldn’t be telling you. “Well, Jongho is like my cousin, in a way. Wooyoung, well, that’s more complicated.”

“I have time.”

“He’s kind of like my brother, but we aren’t related. Not by blood at least. I’ve known him since we were young. We were raised together.”

“We’ve been dating for a month and you didn’t tell me you had a brother? Jeez, Seonghwa,” you teased. 

“Ah, dating, you say?” A smirk pulled up on his lips and he flashed you a playful glance. “I like that.” 

You wanted to ask him a bit more about his family, but you decided it was best not to push your luck any further than what he’d just been willing to divulge. You drove in a comfortable yet tense silence for a while longer, and you tried closing your eyes to maybe seize a few moments of sleep, but to no avail. 

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

“Can we get some air? I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“That’s fine. I could afford to stretch my legs a bit.” 

You pulled off at the next lookout point. It was completely empty, like the rest of the highway had been since you’d been driving, and he pulled the car off in the furthest spot. 

The lookout was gorgeous, much like your company. You couldn’t see much of the intended scenery in the dark veil of the night, but you could see the stars glimmering in the sky, brighter than you’d ever seen. Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled in the starlight, and you watched him in awe as he took in the view. The circumstances may have been terrible, but you couldn’t imagine a more picturesque night. 

You hoisted yourself on the stone ledge of the lookout, legs straddling Seonghwa as he stood in front of you. He pulled you in closer until your waists flush were together, and you squeezed your legs tightly around him.

He stroked your hair for a bit, then moved a hand down, his fingers drawing along the sensitive skin of your neck. His touch on you felt exhilarating in the cool breeze of the night—something about the adrenaline of running away with this man had you melting like putty in his hands. 

“You’re too tempting,” he purred in your ear, running his other hand along the small of your waist. “We should be getting back on the road… but I have half a mind to take you right here.” 

Inspiration struck. You gave a few sensual kisses to his neck, breathing heavily against it as you spoke. “Your car.” 

“What about it?”

“Fuck me in your car, Seonghwa.” That came out more forward than you intended, but there was no point in mincing words right now. 

His breath caught in his throat. You watched as his expression turned from lustful to invigorated, a hot fire burning beneath his eyes. He scooped you up, your legs still cinched tightly around his waist for support. You threw your arms around his neck as he guided you back to the Bentley, tossing you gently in the backseat.

You didn’t necessarily have expensive tastes, but something about the luxury of his car was arousing in a way you couldn’t describe. The quilted leather seats felt cool against your skin, and you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to know they were custom. The car smelled like fresh mahogany and leather, like the most incredible cologne you could imagine. How could he keep it so immaculate?

His lips slid against yours as he crawled on top of you. He barely fit in the tight confinement of the backseat, having to bend his knees slightly as he positioned himself over you. Your arm came up to his waistband, doing him the favor of removing his belt for him as you made out. The air in the car grew thick and balmy with the heat of your lustful breaths, fogging the already tinted windows slightly. 

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, his tongue dancing and sliding against each other hungrily. You palmed his dick through his pants, and he groaned needily against your mouth. His raging hard-on indicated he craved more. He followed your lead as you ungracefully unbuttoned his pants, sliding his underwear down, allowing yourself better access to his dick. You clumsily wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping and twisting, drawing moans from his lips like music. He hoisted you by your waist up to a sitting position, settling you down on his lap. His hands explored under the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head suddenly, and you took the initiative to clumsily remove the rest of your clothes, giggling lightly at the difficulty of maneuvering in the confined space. “Your car might be more expensive than my house but that doesn’t make this any easier,” you grumbled, and you watched him as he smiled, unbuttoning his own shirt, still entranced by watching you undress. 

You settled back down in his lap, repositioning your hand around his shaft. You loved the way his dick fit perfectly in your hand, and you subtly teased him with your hand, rubbing circles on the tip, applying just enough pressure to the base to keep him wanting under your touch. He moaned against your lips, his needy grunts indicating you had him in the palm of your hand. 

He reciprocated by running one finger along your folds, testing your wetness. The sudden sensation caught you off guard, and you removed your hand from him for a moment to wrap your arms around his neck. He pumped a finger in and out slowly, drawing contented whines from your lips against his ear. How had he managed to turn the control of the situation back to his favor? 

His touches were just as deliberate—giving you just enough to be overwhelmed with pleasure, but not fully satisfied. You were practically dripping in his lap now, and the thought of his dick stretching you out was sounding more and more tempting. 

He pulled his fingers out suddenly, guiding your shoulders away from him for a moment to take the image of you in. Something familiar glimmered in his eyes--you recognized the same expression he had on earlier, when he marvelled at the stars. His facial expression softened into wonder. 

"I'm so lucky," he mused softly, and it was almost as if he wasn't talking to you, but to himself, for a moment. "I know you're scared of what's going to happen next. But it's going to be okay." 

His words hit something deep inside of you, a part of your mind you had pushed far down. The part that was incredibly scared of the coming unknowns. 

He stroked your hair, his eyes still sparkling as he comforted you. His voice was calm and smooth as always. "No matter what happens I'm going to protect you. I promise." 

You kissed him gently, forgetting for a moment the explicitly sexual position you were in. Slowly but surely, you were falling for him. Well, more like tripping flat on your face down a flight of stairs for him. You had known that for a while, but your sudden dangerous circumstances had cemented it in your mind. He was yours, undeniably. 

You smiled against his lips. "I'll hold you to that promise." 

You felt his hands reposition under you, raising your hips and positioning you over his shaft. You sunk down slowly, and his nails sunk into you with a breathy moan as you pushed down fully. “You feel incredible,” he cooed softly. You moaned against the skin of his neck as his dick stretched you out slowly. The intimacy of the moment heightened every sensation by what felt like a power of a million. You rocked your hips slowly on top of him, and one of his hands came up to caress your breasts, the other supporting under your ass as you moved. Your pleasured moans harmonized with his, echoing against the interior of the Bentley. The car rocked slightly under you as you slid up and down over his hips slowly. He brought the hand on your breast down to where his cock connected with you, applying gentle pressure to your clit. The sensation was almost too much to handle. “Seong- fuck, ah-” you whined breathlessly. You trembled under his touch, barely able to move your hips up and down with the way your legs were shaking. 

“I want you to feel good,” he breathed in your ear. His deep voice resonating in your ear sent you soaring, and your eyes rolled back as he rubbed harder against your clit, rutting his hips up against you. Your orgasm crashed through you, enveloping your mind in a thick, blissful fog. He held you tight as you shook, and you saw his lips curl up into a smile. “Good girl,” he praised, and you panted against him, still coming down from your high. “Tired?”

You were, you were exhausted. You came hard, harder than you could remember in a long time. But you wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d given you. You continued to rock up and down on his dick, mustering up every drop of energy you had to slam your hips down on him. He sang your praises with his desperate groans, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. You latched your lips against his neck, marking him as you gave a few final thrusts. He bucked his hips up against you, and you rocked in motion with each other. 

You felt warm liquid spill over inside of you, Seonghwa grunting beautifully as he came, before pausing for a moment. “Shit, I didn’t mean to- inside-” he stuttered, his voice laced with a slight panic.

“Hwa, it’s fine. I’m on birth control,” you reassured, sliding yourself off on him. You realized that was the first time you’d called him by his nickname.

He paused, smiling a bit. “Right. I probably should have known that.”

You collapsed on top of him, still straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, head nestled in his warm neck. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so relaxed, so content, than while you were wrapped in his arms. Even in the balmy heat of the car, you felt refreshed leaning against his soft skin. It felt unbelievably intimate, the way you were pressed against each other, bodies nearly flush. He ran his fingers through your hair, combing through the knots slowly. 

“You’re probably gonna have to get this thing detailed,” you laughed, realizing you were dripping sweat—and all sorts of other liquids—all over his custom interior. 

“Worth it,” he grumbled, pulling you in tighter against him.

You sat silently like that for a while, both working to catch your breath from the intense session. 

Seonghwa was the first to break the silence, his voice tender and calm. ���That thing you said… about us dating.” He paused. “We are, right?”

You smiled against the skin of his neck as you nestled your head tighter into the crook of his neck. “Yes, I think we are.”

He pushed you away from him gently, so that you were eye-level with him. His eye contact was intense and serious, but loving. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden cheesiness—you’d never been particularly good at embracing sincere moments. “Does this mean I can say my boyfriend is in the mafia?” 

He chuckled for a moment before his expression grew serious. “Not for much longer. If we can pull this off, I want to start a new life with you.”

“Awfully fast, don’t you think?” you teased, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. Then, more seriously, “I’d like that.”

You sat like that, embraced for a while. You felt remarkably safe in his arms, despite everything you’d been through with him. Your track record with him was tainted with the threat of uncertainty, and yet it felt entirely right. You debated telling him just how much you were falling for him, but you decided to hold off for the moment. This was enough. 

You eventually slipped back into your clothes after nearly nodding off in his arms in the backseat. He carried you around to the front seat in a bridal hold, resting you lightly in the plush leather passenger seat. He retrieved a thin blanket from the trunk, draping it over you delicately. 

The last thing you remember was Seonghwa’s hand gently stroking your thigh as he drove, and the gentle hum of the car’s tires on the highway lulling you to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a few moments to adjust to the low light of the night outside the window. It was dark, but you could make out the glimmer of water on the horizon to your right. 

The ocean? How long had you been driving for?

“Seonghwa,” you muttered drowsily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“I have a private place. A beach house. We’ll be safe there for the night—my father doesn’t know about it.”

Jesus. A beach house? How many houses could one man have? you thought, biting your tongue from saying anything out loud. You still sometimes forgot how rich he was, even while lying comfortably in the passenger seat of his Bentley. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh comfortingly.  

You nodded sleepily, your consciousness fading in and out as he finished the drive. The car slowed significantly as he pulled off the highway onto a rougher private road. It was lined with a thick covering of trees on both sides, filtering out the faint glow of the moonlight. You dragged to a halt at the end of the road, met with the sight of a clearly expensive and yet surprisingly quaint beach house. You had your hand on the car door latch, about to press it open when Seonghwa suddenly grabbed your arm. 

“Wait.”

You paused, your stomach sinking as you saw his expression fall into something serious. You followed his gaze out the window, headlights piercing the front windshield the moment you looked up. 

Three cars circled you, tires skidding against the sandy pavement as they screeched to a halt. You looked at Seonghwa, frozen in fear as figures began to step out into the night. 

“Seonghwa—” You grabbed his arm, curling your fingers into the fabric of his sleeve as you watched the men grow closer. 

“Stay here,” he said sternly. “Don’t move.”

He stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He took an apprehensive step forward, keeping close as he called out to them.

“What the fuck do you want?” His expression was tight, stoic as he scanned the crowd. There were five men that you could count, standing in a loose circle around Seonghwa’s Bentley. Panic crept into your system, and you clenched your fists against the seats. 

The car right in front of you swung its driver’s side door open, and a familiar blonde haired figure stepped out. 

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa called, giving a relieved sigh as he laid eyes on his comrade. “Thank god it's you, I thought I’d been caught. Why did you—did something happen?” 

The expression on Seonghwa’s face was one of visible confusion. Wooyoung laughed, running a hand through his hair. He looked up at Seonghwa with eyes cold as ice. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Hwa. You really threw a wrench in things, you know. You think you can just run off with your little girlfriend so easily?”

Run off? Was he trying to run away from the mafia?

“I—I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t.” Wooyoung scoffed, bitter and resentful. 

“Did my dad put you up to this? Were you the one who told him I was—”

“Your dad? Hah, I’m not the one who told him you were leaving, Hwa.”

“Then, why…”

“Your dad is the reason I can’t let you leave. You have no idea the kind of hell he put me through. Not a fucking clue!” His voice trembled with an eerie, subdued rage.

“Look, I don’t know what my father did, but I hate him as much as you do. I have nothing to do with him!”

“You can’t possibly hate him like I do,” Wooyoung laughed humorlessly. “You’re his only son. You mean everything to him. He has everything he could possibly want. Money, power, respect… But you, you can’t be replaced.”

“What the hell are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“The agony of his only son slipping away, powerless to stop it. How it feels to have the only person you love ripped away from you, just like that… like my father was.”

“Your father? My father said he found you abandoned in a crack house, left to starve after your parents ran off!”

“Well, he fucking lied, didn’t he?”

Seonghwa stood, stunned at Wooyoung’s words. 

“He lied. You wanna know what really happened? Your father put a bullet in my father’s head with his own two hands. He was murdered, Seonghwa. Not before being tortured, of course. I saw the whole thing. But your daddy doesn’t know that.”

“He… what? Wooyoung, I didn’t know—“ 

“Of course you didn’t!”

“If I had known earlier—“ 

“What would you have done, exactly? Kill him? No, see, I don’t want him dead. I want him to live his life out with his son’s blood on his hands.” 

“The blood would be on your hands, not his!” 

“In a literal sense, yeah. But you know what they say. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. I’m just paying back what he’s owed.” 

“You’re like a brother to me, Woo. You know that. You always have been.” Seonghwa’s voice was softer that time. Sadder. 

“I’ve never once thought of you as a brother. I can’t even look at your fucking face. You’re the spitting image of him, right down to your fucking ego,” Wooyoung spat, closing the distance between them, giving Seonghwa a harsh shove to the chest. 

“You don’t mean that,” Seonghwa said, stumbling back. He clearly wasn’t looking for a fight. 

“I do mean it. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I bring him your fucking head!” He punctuated his words with a swing powered with rage and hatred. 

“Woo, please—I don’t want to fight you!” Seonghwa dodged his blows, refusing to swing back. 

“I wanna let off a little steam before I kill you. Come at me. Come on, hit me!” 

Wooyoung swung again, his lips curled up into a furious smile as he aimed at Seonghwa’s face again. The punch landed, almost as if Seonghwa let it. He staggered back, wiping a stream of red across his cheek as it dripped from his nose. 

“Man, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” Wooyoung sounded almost giddy with delight. 

“Please, Woo, that’s enough—”

“Hit me. Right now.”

“No.”

“No?” 

The smile faded from Wooyoung’s face. He made a nod to one of his guys, who flung the passenger door open and grabbed you by the hair. You screamed as he dragged you out of the car, kicking and thrashing against his hold to no avail. He halted, and you felt something cold against your temple. 

“Fight me, or the pretty girl dies.” 

You heard a frightening click next to your ear, and your blood turned to ice. You frantically looked over at Seonghwa, who met your gaze with a look of anguish you’d never seen on him before. 

“Stop—Wooyoung, please! Don’t drag her into this!”

Wooyoung clucked his tongue in sympathy. “Poor thing, having to take the fall with you. I’ll be nice, at least. I’ll give you two a nice double grave—”

Seonghwa cut him off with a right hook. Wooyoung stumbled back, clutching his chin with a satisfied smile. Seonghwa grabbed him by the jacket, dragging him in so their noses were practically touching.

“You lay one finger on her and that grave is yours,” he snarled. 

Seonghwa shoved him forward, giving himself enough room to cock his fist back for a punch. Wooyoung ducked out of the way, swooping in for a jab, landing it square against Seonghwa’s cheekbone, using the momentum from his dodge to power his blow. 

Seonghwa caught his balance and lunged, keeping his eyes locked to Wooyoung’s face as he threw his weight forward for another attack. Wooyoung was fast, light on his feet and easily stepped to the side, delivering another painful blow to Seonghwa’s face. 

You couldn’t bear to look, but also couldn’t bear to look away. You were afraid of what would happen if you closed your eyes, but you felt every punch that Seonghwa took as if you were the one fighting Wooyoung instead. Tears welled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks as you watched powerlessly from the sidelines. 

“Stop,” you croaked, your voice lodged in your throat. They couldn’t hear you, and even if they could, they wouldn’t stop for you. You had no part in this. You felt small, useless, and utterly, utterly powerless. 

“I take it back, you’re nothing like your father. You’re weak as hell, afraid to hit me with everything you’ve got. At least your father wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger,” Wooyoung taunted through his teeth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa snarled, launching a hit to Wooyoung’s nose so hard that blood nearly splattered all the way to your feet. 

Wooyoung dragged a hand across his mouth, wiping away the blood pouring down his lips from his nose. He smirked as he looked down at his hand, shaking off drops of crimson as he continued speaking. 

“I’ll be doing him a favor, really. You’re not fit to take over his throne. You’re a pussy, Hwa. Always have been, always will be.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Seonghwa practically screamed at him. 

It was a side of him that was brand new to you, and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. You wished you were home with him, watching the smile on his face instead of the movie on the screen, hearing his laugh like a song. Not this Seonghwa, covered in blood, dripping sweat, eyes full of hate as he swung his fists. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take over for you. I’ll stay by his side, watching the look on his face as I tell him my version of the story. He won’t know it was me, and I’ll even say I tried to save you. After all, you’re my brother, right?” 

Wooyoung laughed as he dodged Seonghwa’s blows, taunting him ruthlessly, wearing a crooked smile on his face like the devil’s own. 

“You’re not my brother. Not anymore,” Seonghwa spat, cold as ice. 

Wooyoung laughed, shrill and joyful. “That’s the spirit. Now we’re on the same page!” 

Wooyoung landed a fierce uppercut to Seonghwa’s jaw. He fell back, landing hard against the ground, reeling from the blow. Wooyoung’s foot lurched forward, smashing into Seonghwa’s ribs with all of his weight. Seonghwa wretched, coughing wetly as thick strings of red dripped from his lips. Wooyoung kicked him again as you screamed and begged for mercy. 

“Wooyoung please—stop! Please!” you sobbed, trembling and gasping for breath in between cries. 

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll make yours quick.” 

Wooyoung planted a foot against Seonghwa’s cheek, digging and twisting his heel against his face. 

“Can’t say the same for you,” Wooyoung said down to Seonghwa, who was barely clinging to consciousness. He groaned, glaring up at his former brother through heavy eyelids. Wooyoung delivered a final kick to his skull, and Seonghwa stopped moving. 

“No! No, god—no!” 

You screamed and thrashed against the man’s hold on you, forgetting about the hand wrenching your scalp, forgetting about the gun to your head. You screamed until your lungs ached as one of the guys peeled Seonghwa off the ground by his shirt collar. His body was limp, and you felt numb all over as you feared the worst. 

Wooyoung wiped his hands together as one of his guys shoved Seonghwa into the back seat of a car. You sobbed and wailed uncontrollably, digging your fingernails into the fist holding your hair, clawing desperately to get free. The man gave a painful shake to your head, commanding you to be quiet. 

Wooyoung knelt in front of you, and you froze, gasping for breath as you looked at him with wide eyes. His expression softened, and he brought a bloodied hand to your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. You were paralyzed, completely motionless under his touch. 

“I’m really sorry, love. It’s got nothing to do with you. I’ll make it quick, I promise. You don’t deserve to suffer,” he said sweetly, genuinely as he wiped your tears away. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he stood. “See you soon.” 

With that, he turned and hopped into his S Class, leaving a smear of blood against the door handle. Cruel hands dragged you toward another car, your screams piercing the night sky with no answer. You felt a cloth against your mouth, and everything went black. 

The next thing you remembered was waking up on the cold leather seats of the car that had taken you. It took a second for you to regain consciousness, but when you did, the events of the night hit you like a truck. The images flooded in, and it was like reliving it all over again. The dull ache in your chest grew quickly into unbearable anguish, the tears beginning to flow down your cheeks without much warning at all. 

You choked against the fabric gagging your mouth as you sobbed hopelessly. Your heart felt like it’d been ripped from your chest, a wide gaping hole replacing any semblance of hope you still clung to. Your cries echoed uselessly as you thrashed in the backseat of the car, muffled as you tried to scream. Your wrists stung against the zip ties cutting into them, and you quickly gave up trying to get free.

The man in the passenger seat groaned, throwing a menacing glance over his shoulder. “Can this bitch just shut up?”

“I wish Wooyoung would have just taken her out back there,” the driver grumbled. 

You knew there was no getting out of this alive. Your only hope, the only one who knew where you were, was dead. At least, you could only assume he was, or at least he would be soon. You couldn’t forget the sound Wooyoung’s fist had made against Seonghwa’s skin, delivering blow after blow, or the sound of his lifeless body being dragged away as you begged for mercy. The image haunted you relentlessly, every time you closed your eyes, every time you stopped to take a breath through your sobs, you saw him lying on the pavement, cold and bloodied.

You were completely helpless, being transported in some mafia car like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d die scared and alone, surrounded by strangers, with no one left to mourn you. You tried to picture Seonghwa’s face in your mind—the Seonghwa you wanted to remember, the Seonghwa who promised he would protect you no matter what, the Seonghwa who comforted you as you panicked. You tried to picture his soft, gentle smile, the feeling of his hand on your thigh reminding you it was going to be okay, but all you could see was his lifeless body, dripping blood and sweat onto the ground. 

That couldn’t be the way you remembered him. It couldn’t. 

Your hopeless screams turned to quiet, choked sobs as the reality sunk in. None of it mattered anymore—nothing you could do, no amount of thrashing or crying would set you free. Even the scenery flying by in blurred streaks through the window seemed irrelevant. In hours, maybe even minutes, you would cease to exist. If you were lucky, maybe Wooyoung would follow through on his promise of a double grave, but the thought brought you not even an ounce of solace. Your fate was sealed, exactly like Seonghwa’s. It was over. You closed your eyes tight, conjuring his image in your mind the best you could. Just as he had been on the first night you’d met him, he looked entirely unreal in your mind’s eye—too good to be true. Too good to be true. What a joke. You almost wanted to laugh. It was too good to be true, after all. You couldn’t laugh, though, not with this bitter emptiness consuming you like a lost speck of dust in the void. 

“What the hell—“ the driver suddenly shouted, pulling you back into the moment. 

A car drifted in front of you, hurtling closer as it spun its rear into your lane, on trajectory for a collision. The driver slammed on the breaks, and a wave of inertia threw your body forward. You bit your tongue as the car swerved, tasting iron as the wheels skidded and screeched against the highway. The driver cursed as he lost control, frantically turning the wheel as the car’s flank scraped against the guardrail. 

The windshield shattered, erupting into a spray of glass particles that coated the entire car. Gunshots rang out—gunshots?—and you fell against the seat for cover. Not that it really mattered if you died now or later, you thought morbidly. The driver’s window shattered next, a bullet just barely missing his face. 

“Fuck!” 

The man in the passenger seat pulled a gun from his jacket, stretching his arm past the driver to shoot. He pulled the trigger a few times, but the other car still had you flanked, sabotaging his aim as they forced the car against the rail. Your ears rang from the gunshots, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to buffer the sound with your hands. 

The driver jerked the wheel to the side, ramming the car with all his might, metal groaning and screeching in the collision. They pushed and shoved against one another like a high speed arm wrestling match, your body jostling painfully with each impact. There was a sickening jolt as the tires blew, and the car spun out, wheels screaming against the asphalt before finally crashing into the guardrail. 

Everything went still, and the passenger threw his seatbelt over his shoulder, flinging the door open with guns ablaze. He didn’t even fire off two shots before he went down, crumpling to the pavement as he took a bullet between the eyes. The driver aimed out the jagged remains of the windshield, screaming out strings of curse words as he furiously squeezed the trigger. 

Blood splashed across the interior of the car, soaking it in red as the driver went limp. You screamed as blood splattered across your face, the man’s shattered skull a haunting afterimage on the back of your eyelids. Your heart was pounding, body trembling as footsteps approached your side of the car, and the door flung open. You didn’t dare open your eyes as a hand hooked around your elbow, pulling you out of the car against his body with a careful touch. 

“You ok?” a voice asked. You didn’t recognize it, and you kept your eyes tightly shut. Your whole body shook as you hyperventilated, your lungs burning as you gasped desperately for air. 

“Shh, hey, it’s ok! It’s ok, I’m on your side,” the voice soothed, rubbing a hand along your back. “I’m gonna untie you, ok?” 

Your hands fell free as a knife cut through the zip ties holding them together, and he moved to undo the gag next. He gingerly untied the knot behind your head, pulling the wet fabric from your mouth. He brushed your hair out of your face, his tone soft as he spoke.

“There. Hey, can you look at me? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You cracked your eyes open. His face was intimidating, with sharp eyes and an x-shape shaved into one eyebrow, complete with a diamond in the center. His deep blue hair was pushed back impeccably, and he wore a huge leopard fur coat. He looked like another scary mafia guy, and you’d had quite enough of those. Despite his looks, he seemed kind, his expression gentle and eyebrows pinched with concern he surveyed you for injury. 

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.” [to be continued]

[mallowstep]

(I came up with this au while in debate class so I'm calling it the Debate AU if you don't mind)

Tigerstar absolutely misread everything about Riverclan and fucked up so bad by keeping Stonefur, Mistyfoot Featherpaw, and Stormpaw alive and well and healthy but basically doing everything to Leopardstar that he does to Mistyfoot and Feathertail and Leopardstar in the Misty and Leopard AUs that Stone pulls a Scourge in front of all the clans and everyone looks at Stonefur in terror but Stonefur only has eyes for Leopardstar, who is leaning heavily on Mistyfoot. (Like Leopard is beat down, she's loosing hair, and she has deeply infected scratches on her shoulders.Stone and Misty fucking Hate Tigerstar for what he's done to this cat they've known all their lives.) Stonefur kicks Shadowclan the fuck out of Riverclan territory, Mistyfoot doesn't let Mudfur near Leopardstar (neither does Featherpaw, for that matter. She wasn't abused and she's healthy, but she was traumatized in-Tigerstar had her watch Mudfur abuse Leopardstar and Tigerstar himself told Featherpaw Greystripe thought the same things about her.) Featherpaw won't let any warriors in Leopardstar's den unless she's in there with Leopardstar ---so Featherpaw can protect Leopardstar. The silver furred apprentice curls around her leader, "I'm right here, Leopardstar. Stonefur and Mistyfoot are talking to the other clans and then they'll be back. Stonefur said he'd bring back your favorite." Featherpaw added, purring as she groomed Leopardstar's head. "Stormpaw said he went and got the best trinket for your new den though, and he thinks it's going to be your choice over uncle Stonefur's."

damn anon. thank you. hold on i'm going to engage.

also fair like. i'm. i'm out of the haze and not good at keeping track of au tags so. the only ones i'm really tagging for are the ones i'm like. still thinking about. stone au atm. just didn't want like. u to be. think it was a thing. i'm just tired 100% of the time. anyway.

cw: sexual assault, physical abuse, a few more detailed cws immediately under the cut

cws: parent being involved in sexual assault of child, child sexual abuse (via exposure)

cool. sometimes it's like. i dunno. anyway. sorry i said i'm tired but also very into this.

anyway /nm but also reminder to everyone that i have adhd and would prefer if you included paragraph breaks. obviously i just copy it into a document and add my own but. i appreciate when you save me the step. like i get it y'all've seen me ramble at Length in one paragraph before i just. appreciate it.

okay back on topic.

i'm going to sidestep riverclan related concerns for the sake of "angst good," lmao. riverclan related concerns being if i wasn't tired i could easily come up with a justification i'm just tired and lazy.

but like yeah like. uh. dammit i'm already opening up tpb books left and right. let me just.

"But common sense says there’ll be a battle, Firestar. I don’t need an omen from StarClan to tell me that."

oh my god can cinderpelt like. go and talk to all of the modern medicine cats so that they stop flipping out because starclan isn't answering their texts or whatever.

Remembering the wounded and devastated cats in the WindClan camp the day before, he had expected only a small group to come to Fourtrees. Instead practically every warrior must have been there.

i mean windclan has like five warriors but-

Firestar waved his tail to signal to the two united Clans—LionClan, he thought with a rush of pride. This was his destiny.

this is mostly for jace (assuming u see this) bc it's the whole "importance of lionclan existing" thing i was referring to. didn't bother to pull quotes on my dotc rant, but here u go.

so. point of canon divergence* is:

“Greetings, Tigerstar,” he meowed coolly. “You came, then. Not still looking for those prisoners you lost from RiverClan territory?” Tigerstar let out a snarl. “You’ll regret that day’s work, Firestar.” “Try and make me,” Firestar retorted.

* from firestar's pov

bc obviously that didn't happen.

no, what happens is firestar sees -- blackfoot and darkstripe and.

leopardstar.

firestar harbours no affection for riverclan's leader. but. even from a distance, he can see her ribs. he'd be surprised she was standing on her own, if he wasn't processing everything else going on.

he doesn't see this part.

Mistyfoot's tail flicks to Stonefur's shoulder, and he nods. They've only exchanged a few words, only had a brief moment, but they're ready.

Stonefur glances back. Featherpaw and Stormpaw are out of the way. He hopes, if this goes wrong, they have the sense to run. If they had the chance, he would have told them to skirt the edge of TigerClan and try to make it as deep into ThunderClan's territory as they could.

He hopes they have the sense to figure that out for themselves.

Firestar is exposing Tigerstar's plans. RiverClan doesn't react. There's not much they'd be surprised by, Stonefur muses. If Firestar told them Tigerstar killed his own kit, he doesn't think he'd be shocked.

Mistyfoot slips towards the front of the crowd. Leopardstar doesn't know, of course. Stonefur has barely had the chance to say two words to her in the past moon. He slinks around to the space between the Clans.

Firestar finishes his speech. No one says anything. Firestar looks takenaback. He glances towards Leopardstar; Stonefur does too. Mistyfoot is watching him, but she's looking at the ground.

A part of Stonefur wants to say, "That's not all." Because, as he starts to run, preparing to leap at Tigerstar, he wants them to know why. He wants them to know what Tigerstar has done. He wants them to revel in Tigerstar's death.

But he doesn't.

Tigerstar sees him, of course. Stonefur isn't trying to be subtle.

"You," Tigerstar growls.

Say it, Stonefur thinks. Tell them what you've done.

But Tigerstar doesn't.

The actual fight is a blur. He doesn't think he is himself again, until Tigerstar's corpse twitches and stills, and he looks towards Leopardstar. Mistyfoot has inserted herself between Leopardstar and Blackfoot, and Stonefur nods minutely.

It's over now.

the clans, of course, are...shocked. riverclan has no complaints, and while...everyone (more or less) is happy tigerstar is dead, but...for thunderclan and windclan, stonefur just murdered him without direct provocation. and the fact that he killed him nine times? direct violation of a warrior doesn't need to kill.

like. if they Knew, they would think stonefur just. but they don't know.

and riverclan doesn't want to explain and shadowclan doesn't want to explain and no i'm not at this moment figuring out what happens wrt bloodclan and so forth. i just wanted to set that scene.

yeah. no idea what happens next in a lot of places here. but.

everyone goes home.

("Your territory," Stonefur growls.

"Obviously," Blackfoot says.)

mistyfoot takes leopardstar to her den. stonefur tells stormpaw to run to thunderclan and ask for their medicine cat. tells him to say it's urgent and he can't explain here. tells him that if they want to send her with a warrior or two, don't argue. just get her here.

featherpaw stations herself outside leopardstar's den.

stonefur feels like he should say something. he's still covered in tigerstar's blood.

"we're taking this down," he says, "now."

they dismantle the bonehill.

once the process has been started, stonefur lets the rest of the warriors finish, and grooms himself and washes in the river until he's satisfied every trace of blood has been taken care of.

he's about to see her when stormpaw arrives with cinderpelt and...hm. sandstorm.

(cinderpelt was there. she saw leopardstar. she can start to put pieces together.)

stonefur greets them, and featherpaw goes to tell mistyfoot and leopardstar, and the adrenaline is fading, his limbs starting to tremble. when's the last time he got any real sleep?

"Stormpaw said you needed a medicine cat," Cinderpelt says.

"We do."

"Did something happen to Mudfur?"

"He can't do this." Stonefur's tail flicks. "We need someone to look at Leopardstar -- you can use our herbs, of course, whatever you need."

Cinderpelt blinks. She's a young cat, Stonefur thinks, too young to be looking at him like she understands. Maybe it's part of being a medicine cat.

"Right then. Does Leopardstar know I'm coming?"

"Featherpaw is telling her."

and stonefur isn't going to follow cinderpelt into leopardstar's den.

for one, it's crowded enough, and he'd probably just get kicked out. for another, he doesn't know what leopardstar and cinderpelt will talk about, but -- he doesn't want to force himself into it.

cinderpelt stays for a while. sandstorm runs proxy, taking some herbs to her, but then she stays with cinderpelt. stonefur has probably been up for over a day when cinderpelt and sandstorm nod.

"take some prey before you leave," he says. "riverclan won't forget this."

"i went over some things with mistyfoot," cinderpelt says. "always good to have some basic herb knowledge."

cats don't have a direct analogue for kissing, but stonefur could kiss cinderpelt for having the grace to say that without letting on why. it's not like riverclan doesn't know. everyone knows.

but.

it's still appreciated.

As the sun rises, Stonefur stands, facing into Leopardstar's den.

"Can I come in?"

Her eyes are watching him. Even they have been changed: no longer the brilliant gold he remembers, but something brassy and dull.

"Of course."

Featherpaw slips past him, taking his place as sentry. She needs to sleep, Stonefur thinks, but it might be best to wait until she's too exhausted to keep her eyes open. He's not above carrying her back to her den like a kit.

Leopardstar starts to stand.

"Don't," Stonefur says. "It's alright."

He hates that seeing her like this is not foreign to him.

Mistyfoot curls up, her eyes closed, a compromise. Stonefur sinks to the ground. "Can I -- do anything?"

Leopardstar looks at the empty space in her nest. "Would you stay with me?"

"Of course." (Anything.)

yeah. uh. i think like. i dunno. it's not like tigerstar ever showed leopardstar a single ounce of kindness. so. uh. am i using that as an excuse to sidestep angst? no. no i am not. well. not entirely. but Damn leopardstar needs a hug.

that she can initiate and control.

but still. she's desperately deprived of positive human contact and as someone who cried once because someone put their hand on my shoulder and i hadn't touched another human being in like six months. i think she needs it.

ohh boy yeah. i think y'all know me well enough to know where i'd go with that angle.

so let me turn my attention to featherpaw. i started answering this ask like an hour ago. anon i love you.

featherpaw has. uh. she's got a Lot of problems. as you can probably understand.

i'd say let's start at the top, but i'm not sure where that is, so let's start with her relationship to stormpaw, because i think that should get fucked up. i think...you know how stormpaw says, "i won't let him kill us"? and. yeah.

but there's never One Moment here and stormpaw realizes way too late and featherpaw feels like...you know like. everyone who is supposed to help her is failing her. she can't really blame leopardstar, and mistyfoot clearly feels bad, and stonefur like. idk what he was doing but she's solidly neutral on him.

could tigerstar try to fuck all of that up? of course he could. do i want to write featherpaw and stonefur arguing about leopardstar? i've already written a lot of something blindingly similar, so not at the moment.

anyway. the relationship i will freely fuck with is stormpaw. i think not because of anything specific, i think tigerstar just gets in her head and she looks like her mother (something tigerstar brings up) and stormpaw takes after their father and he keeps acting like everything is normal and.

at the end of the day, there's this gulf between them that he keeps stepping into.

so yeah. not to mention greystripe. like. fuck.

"Featherpaw!" Greystripe waves his tail at his daughter, and she flinches.

oh hey i hit the grammar cut off again. let me. i learned how to do this okay i'm going to insert some kind of dummy image or something to reset the counter.

there it's a link to my tumblr but i've got grammar checking again xd

moving on.

featherpaw doesn't want to talk to greystripe. it's not Strictly that she thinks what tigerstar said was true (although she's not sure it isn't), but that. just looking at him sets off a loop in her head.

uh. does anyone explain this to greystripe? no. because the cats who could are:

leopardstar (doesn't want to talk about it)

mudfur (doesn't want to talk about it)

mistyfoot (but only by inference, and doesn't consider explaining things to greystripe a priority)

featherpaw (doesn't want to talk about it and doesn't want to talk to greystripe)

so yeah. no. he's in the Dark.

one of the first priorities is building leopardstar a new den. and decorating it. that's part of building a den i just wanted to clarify and.

featherpaw takes it seriously. because. you know. beauty begets beauty.

she doesn't want...stormpaw is ready to jump straight into sharing a den with old apprentice friend dawnpaw. maybe they never stopped.

but featherpaw? doesn't feel safe there. (doesn't feel safe anywhere.)

especially as she's getting older and tigerstar certainly implied and-

she's not sleeping very well.

mistyfoot and stonefur are trying to help her but they're not therapists! they don't know what to do! featherpaw clearly is dealing with shit but how do they help her??? they have no idea!!! how would they?

in a very strange inverse of canon, leopardstar and featherpaw develop a close relationship. leopardstar feels like she failed to protect featherpaw. featherpaw just. doesn't know. she doesn't know what she feels or thinks or knows and like: leopardstar doesn't. she doesn't need to explain herself to leopardstar.

she's in a big sister role to the kits, i think.

uh. yeah. featherpaw. she is not taking any of this well.

sooner or later greystripe corners her (because he doesn't know) and she's having a panic attack and leopardstar is like "you are never allowed to talk to her ever again" and greystripe is like "what the fuck did i do" and someone (mistyfoot?) finally explains.

uh. what else.

stonefur + leopardstar + featherpaw cuddle pile? leopardstar is in the centre. she feels kind of weird about that because she can tell featherpaw is like. going through this whole. uh. whats the. fuck.

like. featherpaw feels like she needs to protect her and leopardstar doesn't really want to encourage that but on the otherhand it's kind of nice that featherpaw is right here because tigerstar 100% used to threaten her to leopardstar and-

yeah.

uh.

i started writing two hours ago so i'm just going to post.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended - 2

As you can see - so I decided to pursue Blended. Originally, there was no serious plot to this, I swear. I was just winging it but before I knew it - I was exploring this interesting new AU that I’ve unearthed and I thought, eh why not? Now, I have quite a backstory for our main characters here. Which, unfortunately, will not yet be revealed below but just the same, hope you like this!

---

Title: Blended

Previous installment here.

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

Multi-part, WIP

—

Narook’s

Lin sucked in a deep breath. She released it slowly, counting up to five.

Her eyes blinked, wishing for all the strength in the universe not to forsake her.

She had taught her sons never to play the break-up one-up game but good Agni, she wanted to say that she is winning this particular break-up even a decade or so after.

Yes Lin, you can do this. You have won this break-up.

She tried to give herself an imaginary fist pump.

Yes, sure. Real mature of you.

Feeling that she had done enough pep talk, Lin plastered a smile on her face. She had gotten good at this in the past years after all.

Now or never. For Jinora.

She crossed the room quickly. “Hey kid, sorry I’m late.” Lin pressed a kiss on Jinora’s hair, not meeting the eyes of the other occupants of the booth. The young girl faced her to give a kiss and a hug in return. “Of all the days, I know.” Lin focused on tucking some stray hair strands behind Jinora’s ear. “I don’t even know why Mr Sato has an assistant if the man barely follows his own schedule.”

She finally took a seat and faced the now gaping man across her.

“Ah – this is my mom –,” Jinora started to introduce her at the same time that Lin extended her hand.

“I’m Lin, Jinora’s mom. Nice to meet you.”

The bald man automatically reached to grasp her hand to shake it He was a beat too slow to release her hand and Lin involuntarily frowned at that.

Ikki elbowed her father. “His name is Tenzin.” She added helpfully. “He’s my dad.”

No kidding.

She put up the menu as a shield between them to prolong the inevitable conversation; a ruse of reviewing the food and beverage lists even if the diner has yet to update it in the past five years.

Belatedly, all her uncharitable thoughts about the faceless man that was Ikki’s father came to the forefront of her mind.  

Figures he would be that stuffy businessman who did not have his kids play with the neighborhood kids.

Speaking of kids…

The two girls were sharing a plate of waffles beside them. The waffles were slathered with butter, whipped cream, maple syrup and sprinkled on with chopped peanut butter cups. She frowned and glared at the man across her from behind the menu. That was a sugar overload and sugar crash waiting to happen. And happen it will when the two girls would be in her care later today. He would not have to deal with that.

Tenzin only had a cup of coffee in front of him. She eyed the porcelain canisters at the side containing cream and sugar. The sugar bowl was only a third full and she would bet that it was full earlier before he had his hands on it.

She put down the menu and decided they have had enough time.

Lin waved a waiter over and requested for a tall glass of lemonade.

Tenzin was still looking at her apprehensively.

As he should.

If he thinks I will cash in on this 'renewed' connection, he is very much mistaken.

“So, I believe you have some concerns about Ikki staying over?” Lin was pleased to note that her voice did not even waver at any point.

She felt the curious eyes of the kids turn to them; their own conversation turning into whispers.

That seemed to snap Tenzin out of his thoughts.

“That is - that- no I don’t -.” He stammered unbecomingly.

Lin briefly wondered how this man managed to lead a conglomerate with this level of eloquence.

Ikki pounced on this. “Does it mean I can stay over at Jinora’s and Ms Lin’s? I promise I will behave, Daddy. And I swear we will produce the best project ever – with glitters, and sparkles and all the colors.” She beamed from the side, clutching at her father’s arm in excitement.

“It’s not our first sleepover at the house,” Lin interjected gently. “But I understand it’s Ikki’s first time to sleep over that is not with family. So you might have some questions for me – about the overnight stay.” She amended quickly, if the look in his eyes meant that he did have questions - just not related to the sleepover.

He motioned to speak but was interrupted by the serving placing a glass of lemonade between them.

“Well,” Lin calmly took a sip. “I could probably start with my questions and just chime in if there’s anything that comes to your mind.” She pulled out a pen and a small notepad from her bag. “Does she have allergic reactions to food -?”

“Shrimp and crab.” Tenzin responded in a subdued manner, absentmindedly stirring his coffee. A habit that Lin knew to indicate his nervousness.

“That won’t be a problem because,” Lin began but was interrupted by her daughter.

“Me too!” Jinora pointed to herself with a grin. “I’m allergic to crab and shrimp as well!”

There was a small shriek as the two girls began chattering about being besties and twinsies.

Tenzin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the display.

If that was how they would react over a common allergy (of all things that they could get from their father, it would be his ironic allergy to shellfish, which was to his mother’s consternation – but that’s a different story), wait until they realize they were sisters, Lin idly pondered.

She froze.

Sisters.

It did not dawn on her until then, put in simplistic terms, the two girls are related. She looked at them thoughtfully now, trying to see similarities in their features.

Half-sisters.

Lin corrected herself. Everyone knew how much she had clung to that particular distinction in her own family.

She clicked her pen and noted down in neat precise letters about Ikki’s allergy. “How about emergency numbers or any medicines that she needs to take regularly?”

Tenzin lifted Ikki’s bag, he showed her the bag tag which has all the emergency numbers. He also stated that there were no other allergies or any meds that the kid needs to take.

The pen continued to scratch on the pad.

Pen scratched on the pad.

“Bed time?”

“I'll leave it to your judgment to what's reasonable.” The fingers continued to hold the spoon that stirred the coffee. “They are bound to stay up later because of the project, I suppose.”

A back and forth of more questions and answers continued in the same vein.

When Lin (and Tenzin) was satisfied with the childcare information, flipped back the note pad and kept it and the pen back in her bag. “Alright then, are you really okay with Ikki staying over? If not,” She peered at him, gauging his reaction. “I can easily bring her back to your house later tonight.”

Tenzin shook his head with conviction. “No need, I mean, yes, it’s okay for her to spend time with you.” His face looked stricken at what he said. “No that’s not why I’m implying – I mean.”

Lin resisted rolling her eyes. “I get it.”

 ---

“I get it.”

Did she really, though?

Tenzin tilted his head down, stirring his coffee again, which has gone cold really. He did not dare ask for another refill as he had lost count of how many he had drank in his nervousness.

He inattentively watched the interaction of his daughter with Lin and her daughter.

Lin laughed at something Ikki was talking about.

If nothing else, Lin looked –

Happy.

Contented.

Tenzin was happy, truly, that his childhood friend (among other epithets he had for her, he thought heavily) is in a good place. He would be lying to claim that she did not cross his mind once in a while. He did wonder what had become of her. Their parting was not…ideal. And that was putting it very very lightly.

Now, here he was years later, sitting across her, having finished a conversation about their respective daughters. Lin was warm to Ikki, and he was thankful that she did not seem to bear a grudge against his daughter because of their past.

It was a surreal scenario, to say the least.

If Bumi had told him that was what he would be doing that Friday afternoon, he would have probably slapped his brother upside the head. Or checked his breath for the stench of alcohol.

This was not a normal Friday afternoon for him.

When Lin sat in their booth, he felt a chill run up his spine. The air left his lungs, as though someone had punched him suddenly.

No, it can’t be. Was his first thought.

And yet – he knew it was her.

He would recognize her anywhere. There was no mistaking the way she carried herself, the smirk, the flashing of her grey eyes – only a moment of emotion before it was hidden by the veneer of politeness.

It was cold but his palms turned sweaty. It was an odd feeling really, like a memory that was at the fringes of his mind suddenly before him. He did not know what to make of it.

As much as he was sure he has not forgotten her – when she started introducing herself, he wondered if the same can be said for the other way around.

He had moved far to start a new life with his children. Figures, that, with his luck, he lands at the very town that Lin lived at.

But if Lin wanted to keep it like they did not know each other, fine then. He could handle that. It would be simpler that way, he supposed, especially if Jinora and Ikki would remain friends (bffs, Ikki had said).

It was a cliché but he really did think the years were kind to Lin Beifong.

Is it still Beifong?

He surreptitiously peeked at her hands on the table. One of her fingers was sporting a ring.

So maybe not a Beifong…

He took a sip of his coffee and made a face, forgetting momentarily that it was little more than sludge.

 Before long, the bell at the diner’s door tinkled, announcing that more customers had entered.

Lin turned to face the door at the sound. Her face brightened up and Tenzin craned his neck to see who had arrived.

There was a young man with yellow-orange eyes, a messenger bag slung across his body. His eyes alighted at their corner booth and he smiled, more of lifting the corner of his mouth really than an actual smile.

Tenzin barely heard Lin excuse herself from the table; the two girls, still eating their pile of waffles and chatting about some singer or actor (he wasn’t exactly paying attention), took no notice of her.

Lin went to the newcomer, who raised his hand slightly as greeting.

He watched them with curious fascination – or horrible fascination, he wasn’t sure.

There was that odd tug at his stomach (that he would rather not explore, no, thank you) when the young man (boy, really now Lin? He grumbled internally, never mind his own ex-wife was years younger than him) moved to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek.

Yes, it was definitely not Tenzin’s usual Friday afternoon.

---

Note: I enjoyed writing this. Pretty cathartic - did you like reading it too? Let me know! 

[mzoyagon]

I got inspired this morning and decided to make some concepts to inspire others with!

Trigger warning for the following: Body horror via mouths. Intentionally trypophobic imagery via eyes. A mention of cannibalism, though no actual portrayal of such. And finally, an ink creature. This art is intended to be a form of horror art, even if it seems mild (and please don’t complain if it’s not scary enough to you).

Yes I know you can put trigger warnings in the tags, but I also like to be upfront if not a little blatant. I’m not one to take risks when it comes to accidentally triggering someone.

With all that out of the way, I created some concept doodles for Vexed (or otherwise Uproar-afflicted) Sackpeople! I love playing around with the idea of them and they are a thing that is (very) relevant to the plot of my AU. I’ve seen a couple others' ideas for Vexed Sackfolk, but I wanted to throw in my own ideas of what they would look like visually. Feel free to save this image and use it as inspiration, reference, or even to show your friends (please don’t remove the credit at the top if you do)! As well as that, please do throw in your own ideas, designs, and additions to what I’ve already made! I would love to see what you all make of this :]

Image description: Six sketches depicting Sackpeople with unusual, uncanny, or downright scary traits. At the top of the image there is writing saying "all of these concepts CAN be combined". The first (top left) one's mouth and zip intersect, causing the zip to function as part of their mouth. It's vaguely reminiscent of a creature from Stranger Things, or an SCP. The writing at the side says "zip extends into/is part of mouth (kinda looks like an scp tbh)", then "probably the spookiest one here", "imagine this thing trying to bite you". The second (top middle) Sackperson has a second mouth between their chest and belly, inspired by the Impostor from Among Us. They have an angry or hungry (hangry?) expression and are slightly hunched over. The writing says "among us impostor (i'm serious the concept goes hard)", "would probably eat another sackling if vex wanted them to", and then "imagine the terror when they succumb to the uproar and their chest/belly opens up into a new mouth". The third (top right) Sackling is a confused looking werewolf. The writing says "uproar induced therianthropy* (the uproar turns them into an animal)" (at the bottom of the page there is "*the mythological condition, not the identity"), "looks cute but will probably rip someone to shreds", and then "doesn't necessarily have to be lycanthropy/werewolves". The fourth (bottom left) Sackperson has 12 eyes, 7 on their face and 5 on their chest. This design is intended to evoke trypophobia, which is defined as the fear of clustered holes, though in my experience it can extend to any cluster of circular shapes. The writing says "eyes.", "you cannot beat them in a staring contest", "yippie trypophobia", and then "they could be spies. the eyes of vex. think about it". The fifth (bottom middle) Sackling looks mostly normal, save for their full set of teeth which is reminiscent of Bob Velseb from Spooky Month. The writing says "teeth.", "idk about you I think sackpeople with full sets of teeth can look really uncanny (not always, but enough to include it here)", and then "I may be a little inspired by spooky month". The sixth and final (bottom right) Sackperson is covered in liquid Uproar, which resembles tar or black ink. It also leaks from their eyes and mouth. The writing says "goop/ink", "I was thinking of flight rising but you could also say bendy and the ink machine", "liquid uproar everywhere. very messy. they have an easy time spreading it though", and then "screw the stereotypes. be edgy. we are cringe but we are free", the latter of which I think sums up this entire post.

[grian-stole-my-rights]

OK! This is ridiculous at this point but DSMPblr, LEARN HOW TO TAG POSTS!!

Y’all are pretty good about putting ship warnings and putting “/rp” when it’s needed but that isn’t always enough! You need to learn how to tag? Fine, I’ll teach you!

Here’s how I typically tag my posts. (It’s a pretty standard tagging system. Nothing special.)

General tagging!

Put the fandom, in this case “mcyt” (optional) and “dream smp” (mandatory on related posts) or sometimes you might need to put a “tales from the smp” tag in. Abbreviated titles are also acceptable.

Is this crossover content? If so put on a crossover tag. For example “hc x dsmp” or “dsmp x mcd”. (Typically I like to put the SMPs the post is about in chronological order of when they started airing, but you could alphabetize it or just not have an official order to it.)

Is it an au? If so, put the fandom + au. In this case “dream smp au”. Does the au have its own tag? Then use it!

(This one is definitely optional but) Does your posts heavily feature a certain duo, trio, or other YouTube group? Great! Tag them! Ex “dream team”, “clingy duo”, “sleepy bois inc.”

Next up you put the character tags! Ex “Karl Jacobs”, “Quackity HQ” or you might need their TFTSMP character as well. Please if it’s a TFTSMP character, put an abbreviated episode title or TFTSMP in front, especially if they have a common name like “Isaac”. If the character is only meantioned in once in that post they probably don’t need to be tagged. (I tend to alphabetize my character tags, but that’s just personal preference and is optional)

Is it shipping related? Put the ship name! Ex: Karlnapity. Is it a platonic ship? Be sure to state that. (Y’all are pretty good about that one)

Warnings! (I typically put these last because they’re for people who have the tags blocked but you can put these first if you want)

Does this post contain spoilers? If so, use the “dsmp spoilers”, or “dream smp spoilers” tags. If it’s tales from the smp, add a spoiler warning for that as well. If it’s live blogging be sure it to tag it as such (about half of you are tagging live blogging and to those half thank you).

Now here’s a big one, trigger warnings. Use them. If you have a gory art post, tag “gore tw”. If your fic involves a character’s death, tag it appropriately, with “death tw”, “character death tw”, or “minor character death tw”. This goes for pretty much any warnings a post may warrant. Even if it’s just a meantion of something. Some people have triggers and although you can’t always tag everything, y’all could at least try to tag common ones. Please, even if it’s just a meantion, or if it’s only implied, tag it.

Notes:

Feel free to change the order in which you tag things. This is more of a guide than a concrete tagging system, but some things do need to be tagged, no matter what. (Trigger warnings, spoiler warnings, and ship tags)

/rp. It’s not necessarily required but it can be very helpful and I’m sure those who need it appreciate it. (Y’all are pretty good with slash indicators. Thank you for being mature about those and not making fun of it. Some people genuinely can’t tell & slash indicators help with that)

Hybrid SMP is a big one. There’s already a roleplay group, that’s been around for a while, called Origins so um- maybe don’t tag your posts as that. The DSMP fan base is already so big that it kinda wipes out a lot of other fanbases. (Even the hermit!tommy AU was enough to warrant the need for making crossover tags mainstream due to y’all flooding the Hermitcraft tag)

I am going to reiterate this because it’s important: Certain characters have really common names or names that coincide with pre-existing tags, so to prevent cross-tagging either put what they’re from before the name or you can list out their full gamer tag, for example using “dreamwastaken” instead of just “Dream” or “TFTSMP Jack” instead of just “jack” (especially that last one. Some people may get Ponk’s character confused with Jack Manifold)

You can add in tags for the kind of content as well but, its preferable to have “DSMP” in front (a lot looser on this one because if you were to search up “incorrect quotes” you’ll see some stuff from the SuperWhoLock days of tumblr mixed in with Harry Potter and Sanders Sides, so that one doesn’t matter that much). Ex “DSMP Fanart”, “DSMP memes”

Definitely optional, but if a post is aimed at the community itself I highly recommend using the tags “MCYTblr” or “DSMPblr” (if it’s just aimed at the Dream smp fandom, it’s preferred to just tag as “DSMPblr” and not “MCYTblr”)

If you ever forget to tag something or need to remove a tag, the great thing about tumblr is, you can come back and edit posts at any time. I retag old posts all the time.

I cannot stress this enough, if something is just barely mentioned it doesn’t need to be tagged, unless the thing in question can be extremely triggering, in which case, trigger warn it. It’s basic human decency. Tags aren’t just to get as many people as possible to view something, they’re also there for if someone doesn’t want to see something.

[ulkoilla]

I found this meme via @bleachbleachbleach​ and decided to tag myself xD

Color coding in here is weird? But I’ll use it so that S is for search, A is something that I super-like and D is something that I don’t like that much. But I don’t really skip stories for tropes, it’s more about how the tropes are done that does it for me. This is mostly for my reader self’s opinion, but it’s not overly different from my write’s opinion.

Because I love to hear people’s comments on tropes, I’ll provide some of my own!

I usually view “fix it” as canon divergence, which is something I hugely go for. Because few canons have done everything Right, and I love to see the divergences. But the fics tagged as fix it… I don’t know, they often tend to focus heavily on the one (1) aspect they are trying to fix. Often it’s a pairing, which is why I personally don’t normally search for fix it.

I also lump arranged marriages and fake relationships together because the arranged marriage fic I search is often a fake relationship xD Because it makes sense. Two people have marry because they are told to and there are little other possibilities? “Listen, sir, I know you don’t want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you, but it is what it is, so let’s marry for the sake of X and have our own lives. Let’s be mature about this and communicate, and I’m sure we’ll get along as much as we’ll have to.”

Sadly, these stories too often end up as love stories, but it was fun as long as lasted.

Ofc there are other takes on arranged marriage. If they are taken, I’m almost always pleasantly surprised. Which is how we get to Dark fic – one of the tropes I’ll go wild for. Often it is because “the good guys” in canon material are so good they make me a bit sick. Sometimes it is because the villains seem to better persons than I am, which make me a bit more sick. So it’s good to have some actual darkness in the story.

But if it gets too dark, angsty and hurt-ey, it loses it’s potency. Hurt/comfort is therefore a good thing to have, but I admit I don’t search for it as much I used to. It’s probably because many h/c stories lack other aspects, and I prefer long fic. A 100k story made purely to hurt and heal a character isn’t my cup of tea anymore. I’ve read them, I’ve enjoyed them, but after a while they start to seriously repeat, in this reader’s opinion.

Body swaps and gender swaps instead have always been a thing for me and I’m a bit disappointed these are rarely seen these days. I think there are two reasons on this: sensitivity towards for the readers who struggle with gender dysphoria, and that way these fics are too often turned to simple crack fic. Which is not to say that I dislike crack, but I think there is a lot of potential in body swap and gender swap, if approached seriously.

The last “S for Search” bunch for me is the AU’s. I don’t usually search a single type of AU, I just search an AU. Yes - also Soulmates AU! I’m not after romance and sex in my fic reading preferences, but I actually have taste for this because of how utterly, deliciously fucked up the soulmates systems tend to be.

Moving to a category down (from search to super-likes), there is unrequited love, with a bit of the same note than the Soulmates AU.

Missing scenes, time loops, gen fic and amnesia fics are in super-likes category mostly because it usually doesn’t occur for me to search these, but when encountered, I usually approach if the content is otherwise of interest for me. I usually pass, for example, missing sex scenes. Of these I especially like amnesia fics, but I usually view them primarily through other tropes (h/c, canon divergence etc ). They, too, have a lot potential but too often (to tastes of this reader, not objectively xD) amnesia is played as a tool to facilitate romance. For example, I can’t remember ever seeing a fic where the one with amnesia is forced to study the world around them more objectively, free from the previous biases towards the actions and objectives of their allies and enemies.

In the “B” category, “likes”, I put slow burn, crack and A/B/O. Slow burn is perhaps my favorite romance trope, probably because it usually comes with another plot attached, and usually I’m there for the other plot. In A/B/O, similarly, I go for the whole hypothetical sexuality things and how the writer shows it and its effects on the society.

“B” is also a category for neutral tropes or “tropes”, like Crack and Major character death. This is stuff I don’t have a bone to pick, it happens, I usually like it in a story if the other aspects are doing it for me.

Category C is now called “approach with some caution”. Many romance-related trophies go in here. Established relationships, pregnancies, and babies, especially. Again, I don’t dislike these elements - add a layer of fire and brimstone and I’m in! But when the story focuses on, say, a pregnancy, there is relatively little one can do with it. A pregnancy you wanted? Nice, congrats, end of the story or enter: a baby fic. An unwanted pregnancy? More room for drama, but it doesn’t make much of a story either if the characters don’t behave stupid or seriously Miscommunicate.

Which end up the least desired box, D, “approach with extreme caution” for being the perhaps weakest and most boring method to create tension. The D category has mostly vehicles to initiate sex and romance, which I’m not after, in case it wasn’t clear at this point of the post xD Ofc there is also e.g. humorous takes on sharing a bed, or other takes that won’t result in sex or cuddling after the initial awkwardness. Nothing wrong with the less typical takes, in this reader’s opinion!

Most of the persons I follow and may be interested are already tagged, so please help yourself if you feel like sorting!

[glimmerglanger]

So I’ve been plagued by this since I read mirror AU. For your spice week, how would you feel about obikin sex with an audience? Can be purely for pleasure or a ritual thing or an accident, but like, thinking of Anakin staking a claim in front of Cody in agaptfaa may have awoken something in me? Ditto prime Anakin and mirror Anakin with either Obi-Wan. I know Obes would think it riduculous/primitive but maybe find it hot anyway?

Anonymous said:

hmm this isn’t particularly spicy on its own but it can be added to a spicy september fic? like ur prompts are the ice cream and this ask is the extra toppings haha. but like obi wan’s pale skin being marked up with finger shaped bruises and hickeys and his own flush? bonus points if he’s ‘pleasantly sore’ 🥺

Mmmmm, I like these ideas very, very much! I went with ritual sex with an audience because I’m legitimately so, so weak for that. Marking ended up fitting in very well with this particular plot bunny. Hey, if we’re staking a claim…. No reason for half measures. Established relationship set during the Clone Wars (close to the end, with Anakin’s mental state being frayed).

This is NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. No real warnings beyond that. We’ve wrapped up Spicy September Week with this fic! I hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks for all the wonderful prompts! I’ll be posting all the fics over on ao3 to make sure they don’t get lost etc. Hope everyone has a great rest of the week, time for me to get back to prepping for Whumptober!

~~~~~~~

They landed on Tuls on a clear, cool morning, with frost across the ground. Technically, Anakin wasn’t even supposed to be on the mission, but he’d been working with the 212th when Obi-Wan’s orders came through and…

Well. They’d had enough things go wrong for Jedi sent on solo missions from the Senate. He’d decided he ought to tag along, and Obi-Wan hadn’t protested. They’d even had some time to sleep, on the flight to Tuls. Anakin had hoped they might have time for a bit more than sleep, but Obi-Wan had still been recovering from...whatever the kriff had happened to him over Raydonia.

Anakin took one look at the fading bruises all down his ribs, and lost the urge to press the issue. It was more than enough to hold Obi-Wan close while they slept, to pour healing energy down into his skin, hoping to ease as much of the damage as he could.

By the time they arrived on Tuls, most of the marks had faded away. Obi-Wan had stretched that morning, when he woke, and looked down at his side with a surprise written all over his expression. “Feeling better?” Anakin had asked, dropping a kiss against his ribs, and Obi-Wan had smiled at him, looking soft and still mussed from sleep.

But that had been earlier, when it was just them. Obi-Wan looked nothing but professional as they set foot on Tuls soil, met by an entire delegation of tired, stooped humanoids, who looked at them and said, “Thank goodness you have finally arrived, Jedi. There is no longer much time.”

#

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, after the Tuls delegation had hurried them along, out of the cold and into a finally appointed meeting chamber. There was a fire crackling in a large hearth along one wall, which was a relief. There was a bitter chill in the air, which seemed odd. Anakin was almost sure Obi-Wan had said that it was supposed to be late spring on the planet. “I was not informed we were on a time-table, but you mentioned--”

“We are very late to bring the spring,” an older man said, rising heavily from a chair by the fire. He was solidly built - Anakin guessed he’d probably been all muscle, once. Time had added a healthy girth around his waist. He wore a crown of dark stone cut through with pale lines.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, and Anakin shrugged. Obi-Wan looked back at the man and said, “And you… require our help, to bring the spring?”

The man nodded. He said, “Forgive my manners. I am King Urtus. And, yes. We need your help, specifically, Master Jedi.” Anakin could feel the relief radiating off of all of these people, even as their leader spoke.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, shifting around, loosening his shoulders in a little movement that Anakin wasn’t sure anyone else would identify as the first step towards a fight. “May I ask why? I’ve not heard of such assistance being required before.”

Urtus grimaced, looked to the side, and spat into the fire. “We did not need outside assistance. Not before the Separatist attacked us. The Keeper of Seasons was killed in the attack. Her apprentice…” He gestured to a boy standing to one side; the kid looked to be in his early teens. “Is not yet of age to bring the spring.”

“I think…” Obi-Wan said, as a creeping feeling ran down Anakin’s back, “that you ought to tell us, exactly, how one brings the spring, here on Tuls.”

#

“Are you serious?” Anakin said, after Urtus finished explaining exactly what it was they wanted Obi-Wan to do. He felt a prickle across his shoulders as everyone in the room turned to look at him, including Obi-Wan, who raised an eyebrow for good measure.

“We are quite serious,” Urtus said, as though he had not just suggested that - that Obi-Wan come down to some - some kind of ritual chamber and take off all his clothes and--

“Getting kr -- engaging in intercourse doesn’t make the seasons change,” Anakin said, feeling his cheeks getting far too warm. He, abruptly, didn’t like the way any of the people in the room were looking at Obi-Wan.

Urtus shrugged. “It ever has on Tuls,” he said. 

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, hoping for support on how mad the entire suggestion was. He got a shrug, instead, and a thoughtful look, as Obi-Wan said, “I can feel the Force flowing through the core of this world. It is possible the seasons have become tied to… rituals, of a sort. And carnal relations are often tied to the advent of spring.”

Sometimes Anakin wanted to shake him. Not everything had to be a science project.

Urtus cleared his throat, before Anakin could point out that now was not the time to get curious about the ecosystem of some new world. “Please,” Urtus said. “It should be nearly summer now. We beg for your assistance with this matter.”

“Why does this have to be Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, shifting to put himself between them and Obi-Wan, just in case they got grabby.

“We can feel his connection to the Force,” Urtus said, straightening and meeting Anakin’s gaze for the first time. “The planet responds to him, already.” Anakin figured he’d have to take Urtus’ word for that.

And Anakin knew damn well there was no way Obi-Wan was actually going to decline. He’d be full of concern about the fate of the planet and the safety of these people and if it meant him getting fucked on an altar to set things to rights, then so be it. So, it wasn’t much of a surprise when Obi-Wan said, “Of course, I will assist in any way I can.”

Urtus sagged with relief. Anakin felt the emotion vibrating through the rest of the crowd, and fine, he supposed they could make this work. He could help and they’d just get this over with, and-- Urtus said, “We will prepare you and arrange the melee immediately, then.”

The back of Anakin’s neck prickled, even as Obi-Wan asked, “Melee?”

Urtus nodded. “Indeed. To determine who shall have the right to assist you. So you may remove winter’s veil and bring the spring.”

Anakin tightened his grip on Obi-Wan’s arm; he felt Obi-Wan’s emotions shift, some hint of worry entering his feelings for the first time. None of it came through in Obi-Wan’s tone when he said, “Surely, I select who has the...right?”

Urtus shook his heavy head, making a deep humming sound. “No. It must be whoever is touched most deeply by winter, as decided by the Force,” he said, “it has ever been thus.”

Anakin looked over the crowd in the room. He really disliked the way they were eying Obi-Wan, and wondered, if he picked Obi-Wan up and bolted, what his odds were of getting to the ship. Probably not high, if Obi-Wan decided to fight him. Which he almost certainly would.

Anakin blew out a breath, instead, and said, “Is anyone allowed to join this melee, then?” Because, kriff, if it was a fight they wanted… Well. He was more than happy to give it to them.

# 

In the end, the Tuls were agreeable to the idea of Anakin joining the melee. He had no idea what they meant by ‘touched by winter’ and he didn’t really care. He was taken to a chamber to prepare with all the rest of the entrants, while Obi-Wan was spirited off elsewhere. They were only to use weapons with blunted edges, apparently, but that was fine. Anakin had long ago learned how to fight with whatever was to hand.

He cracked his neck side to side, selected a weapon that fitted his hand, and waited, ignoring the chatter around the rest of the room.

It seemed to take an age and a half before the doors were opened again and they were led out, across a frozen expanse of ground, and into a small entryway, directly into the earth. It was dark inside, and warmer. There were steps, leading down, and Anakin followed the figure in front of him, flexing his fingers in and out until they, finally, reached the bottom.

They were… in a large, open space, ringed with seats stretching upward, many of them filled. The walls glowed, faintly. Anakin barely noticed any of that, because, in the center of the… well, the arena, there was a familiar figure.

Someone had taken Obi-Wan’s tunics and left him wearing…pieces of white fabric, tied in bands around his body. His eyes and mouth were both wrapped. There were more bindings around his arms and hands. He was standing in front of a tall lump of stone. Anakin assumed, with a hot lurch of his gut, that this was the altar.

Which meant the Tuls fully expected someone to fuck Obi-Wan right there in the center of this arena and, well. There was no way Anakin was going to let anyone else touch him. He took a breath, adjusted his grip on his weapon, and waited while Urtus made some kind of speech that he didn’t care about.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for the moment when the melee started, and then springing into action. The Tuls were determined, he had to give them that. And they seemed to have decided that they didn’t actually care who won the right, as long as it wasn’t him.

They swarmed him, and Anakin snarled. Even with numbers, they were not a match, and he knew it. They had not a fraction of the practice and experience he’d gained, and he knocked them aside, one after another.

One almost cracked him over the back of the head with a cudgel, only to slip on nothing a moment before the blow could land, falling into one of his fellows, instead, and Anakin half-laughed at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s presence against his skin.

The Tuls woman in front of him balked at his laughter, and Anakin took the opportunity to elbow her in the gut, listening to the sound she made as she folded up, flinging himself back into the fight. There was no real strategy to it, it was nothing but a brawl, fierce and vicious, devolving, finally, into a bare knuckled scrap between the last contenders.

Anakin had something of an advantage in that area, and grinned fiercely at the sound his fist made hitting the jaw of the last Tuls standing between him and Obi-Wan. The man had a half a head of height on Anakin, but went over backwards with a satisfying thump.

Anakin stood, for a moment, in the midst of the groaning fallen, breathing hard. His clothes were torn and bloody, he noted. He throbbed from a dozen different places, wounds aching. He tasted copper on his tongue and turned his head to the side, spitting, even as drums started around the room.

He distantly remembered being told about the drums, and grinned, because they meant he’d won.

He met Urtus’ eyes across the arena, nodded, and stalked towards the center of the space. Obi-Wan hadn’t moved, standing there still as a statue. There were, Anakin noticed, as he got closer, clothes wrapped around his knees and ankles, too. His feet were bare on the stone and there were strange tendrils of light winding away from him, out through the stone.

Anakin decided he didn’t care about the light, right at that moment. His blood burned in his veins, his gut full of fire from the battle. He was already hard, when he stopped in front of Obi-Wan and reached out, grabbing the wrap around his eyes and pulling it away.

Obi-Wan blinked open his eyes, so clear and blue, and did not look surprised to find Anakin before him. Anakin grabbed the wrap over his mouth, hoping he was doing an adequate job removing winter’s veil, and Obi-Wan said, quietly, something tense in his expression, just for a moment, “I knew it would be you.”

Anakin shivered and could not stop himself from sliding a hand back into Obi-Wan’s hair and leaning closer, kissing his mouth, aware he was leaving smears of blood behind and - and liking it, liking the way it marked Obi-Wan’s clean, perfect skin. “I think I had some help,” he murmured, against Obi-Wan’s mouth, and felt Obi-Wan smile.

“Maybe a little,” Obi-Wan agreed, and Anakin kissed him again, pleased to know it had been him Obi-Wan wanted with him, here in the middle of an arena, here at this crude altar.

It made his pulse beat faster, instructions for what he was supposed to do jumbling together in his head. The Tuls had been specific about some things, but it was hard to focus on what they’d wanted. He’d needed to - to take Obi-Wan out of these bindings, definitely. 

Anakin could do that, He kept one hand in Obi-Wan’s hair, aware of all the eyes on them. He expected a prickle of anxiety across his nerves, he even anticipated, in a flash of worry, that he would not be able to maintain his current state of interest, not while knowing so many people were watching.

But these people had thought they could have Obi-Wan. Thought they could just use him for their ritual. And he, abruptly, quite liked the idea of showing them all just how wrong they were. He slid his mouth to Obi-Wan’s neck, nipping at the skin and then sucking, hearing Obi-Wan make a loud, surprised sound.

He slid his other hand down, tearing at the white wrappings, careless and rough. He just wanted them off. 

“The altar,” Obi-Wan ground out, his hands freed to come up, to grip at Anakin, pulling him closer. “We need to--the stone is Force-reactive, we need to be on--”

Anakin got the idea. The altar was the size of a large table, rising directly out of the floor. It came up to his thighs, he noted, even as he pulled the last of the wrappings away, grabbed Obi-Wan���s thighs, and lifted him. 

The stone lit up beneath Obi-Wan, when Anakin turned and put him down on the altar. Veins of color shot through it, so bright they were almost blinding. A murmur went up through the crowd, relief and joy, but Anakin barely noted it. 

Obi-Wan lit up, as well, and that was far more interesting. Trails of light stretched under his skin, glowing. He looked like something out of a dream, something magical. But then, he always had. Anakin groaned and crawled onto the altar, falling forward to kiss him, hands all over his skin, warm and soft and perfect.

He left behind smears of blood, marks that showed where he’d touched, and groaned at the sight of it. Everyone on Tuls had wanted Obi-Wan, but he was the only one who got to have this, the only one who got to touch, and he wanted, suddenly and fiercely, for them all to know it.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan panted, tugging at the closures on Anakin’s tunics. They were hanging off of him already, and Anakin yanked the outer tunic off, tossing it aside. He cared little about the under tunic; it wasn’t in his way. He slid a hand down, curled his fingers around Obi-Wan’s cock, and watched the light beneath him shift, spreading away from the altar, out across the arena.

Obi-Wan’s hands clenched at his belt. He made a sound, thick and pleasure-drunk, as Anakin stroked him, setting a fast, brutal pace. He had not patience within him, at the moment, he just wanted. Wanted to watch Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter, wanted everyone in the arena to see what he got to do.

He bent forward, kissing Obi-Wan deep and filthy, the drums pounding around them, almost drowning out the sound Obi-Wan made when he spilled all over Anakin’s fingers. 

“Force,” Obi-Wan panted, and Anakin grinned, rubbing his fingers together and considering. They’d not given him anything to ease the way. He shrugged, decided to make do, and slid his fingers back, between Obi-Wan’s legs.

He found Obi-Wan slick already, slick enough to slide two fingers in at once, and the revelation punched a groan out of him. “I thought,” Obi-wan gasped, deliciously flushed and glowing, “I’d better, ah, be ready.”

Anakin nodded. He felt quite beyond words, aching with so much want it felt hard to think. He wanted, so badly, to stretch out over Obi-Wan like this, to touch his glowing skin and let all the Tuls see how good he could make Obi-Wan feel, show them his beauty, the light of him--

The Tuls had warned them both that they might be...affected by the ritual. Anakin was willing to blame the hot jump of his pulse on whatever the kriff the Force was currently doing, whatever was making Obi-Wan light up, the glow off of his skin chasing away all the shadows in Anakin’s head, leaving him… singularly focused.

The urge to make everyone see swallowed him. Anakin took another kiss, hard, and then rocked onto his heels, batting Obi-Wan’s hands away - he’d gotten Anakin’s slacks open, that was more than good enough - and gripped at Obi-Wan’s hip.

Obi-Wan made a thick sound, surprised, when Anakin dragged his fingers out. His gasped beautifully, his skin all aglow, brighter spots of light at his freckles. Anakin ran a hand over his chest, awed, and then settled his hands, pulling Obi-Wan’s hips just so, gripping tight.

He heard the sound Obi-Wan made over the drums when he pushed in. Around them, the light started picking up colors, purples and pinks and blues, greens, spreading around the room, spreading across Obi-Wan’s skin, like an aurora, a celestial event, right in front of him.

Anakin jolted at the feeling of being in him. It was always amazing; he could have happily fucked Obi-Wan for the rest of his life, but-- Sinking into him on the altar felt like something else, the sensation spreading out to each nerve, clearing his head, leaving nothing but want and need and desire behind.

Anakin needed to fuck him, needed to drive into him, needing to make him gasp and cry out. Anakin gripped him, hard, keeping a hold on him, knowing he was leaving marks behind and - and liking it. He wanted marks, his marks, all over Obi-Wan’s skin, wanted everyone on Tuls and all the other worlds in the galaxy to know that Obi-Wan was--

Obi-Wan’s trembled, light spreading out from him, through the stone, the colors getting brighter, sharper. And Anakin wanted everyone to see, deeply. Force, he loved the way Obi-Wan looked when he was getting fucked, loved the way Obi-Wan’s mouth got soft, the way he flushed all across his cheeks and down his throat.

Every inch of him was beautiful, and Anakin groaned, driving into him as the light curled and flowed around them. He wished he had another hand, to curl around Obi-Wan’s cock, and in that moment saw no reason not to utilize the Force.

Obi-Wan jerked, full-bodied, when Anakin curled tendrils of the Force against his skin, pressure and sensation. Anakin thought he heard his name - it was hard to tell, the drums had gotten louder and his blood was pounding in his ears - and he took it as encouragement.

It felt like encouragement, through Obi-Wan’s emotions, overspilling into Anakin’s head.

He touched and touched and groaned when he felt Obi-Wan quake, come spilling across their skin and the altar and--and something shifted in the air around them, in the presence of the Force through the room. Anakin felt like lightning grounded down through his spine, pleasure and primal want swimming up through him.

He lost himself, for a moment, aware of nothing but pleasure, but needing to fuck into Obi-Wan, desperately, but the sheer joy of spilling within him. Anakin groaned, cock pulsing, and slumped forward, over Obi-Wan’s glowing form.

He held Obi-Wan - almost limp - and buried his face against Obi-Wan’s throat. He sucked hungry kisses against the skin, wanting to leave more marks, wanting to stain the pale flesh, wanting to leave no room for doubt that Obi-Wan was--

Was breathing shakily, trembles moving through him.

Anakin swallowed, hard, wrestling back control of all his riotous wants. He was aware, distantly, of cheering and the brilliant lights filling the chamber. But that all felt far away as he stroked a hand comfortingly across Obi-Wan’s stomach, pressing softer kisses to his skin, and holding him, there on the altar.

He managed to ask, as he got his breath back, “You think that did it?”

Obi-Wan laughed, tilting his head further to the side in what Anakin took as an invitation, and said, “Darling, you may have overshot us right into summer.”

[atelier-dayz]

Hello, it's me!! I am H Y P E D for Tegaanal!! I love me some good soulmate au! Question: what is the jedi order's stance on soulmates? I know love is not attachment, but i could also imagine that opinions about soulmates differ among the order? What are your thoughts on that? :D also gotta re-read the snippet again because iT'S WONDERFUL AND I LOVE IT

OKAY. This answer is long too LOL

Note: I’m still ironing out some of the details so some things might change over time!

Just as a recap on the soulmate/soulmarks: in Tegaanal, maybe 50-70% of people have a soulmate, with matching soulmarks that only the two of them can see. Only when they first touch do the soulmarks become visible to other people.  Some species tend to not have them; some species tend to have them. It’s considered the Height of Impoliteness to ask someone if they have a soulmate/soulmark and to discuss them unless the person volunteers that information themselves. 

The soulmark is only the physical manifestation of a soulmate bond, but is the easiest confirmation (and proof) of whether a person is your soulmate. However -- here’s where the Jedi Order sort of comes in -- while the soulmate bond is not the same as a Force-bond, it is in fact related somehow to the Force, though it’s proven difficult to really study. 

(I would like to note for a moment that the soulmate bond is not exclusively romantic! It could in fact be platonic. The nature of the bond is up to the individuals to determine! Also! One could also have more than one soulmate!)

I was asked before (it’s somewhere in the Tegaanal tag) how Jango knew that Obi was his soulmate just from watching the holovid, even though he hadn’t seen Obi’s soulmark. Because their connection is related to the Force, soulmates can often tell based on instinct/some deeper sense if someone is their soulmate. That instinct (Force-related!) varies from person-to-person, but Mandalorians with soulmates tend to have Great instincts on that front. So really Jango doesn’t know for sure, but he “knows.”

So getting to your question, it’s a little complicated, just like the topic of Jedi marrying is in my fics. Please note this applies only to my fics and not canon and such though I base heavily off canon. As a Jedi, you have a commitment to the Jedi Order, to serving the Republic -- putting the good of the galaxy before all else essentially. And yes, love does not equal ‘attachment’. A Jedi is allowed to love. A Jedi can have a casual relationship. A Jedi can also have an exclusive, romantic relationship. Marriage though, marriage is tricky because a Jedi is, as I said, committed first to the Order, Republic, galaxy. Marriage is technically allowed, but if a Jedi wants to marry, they have to petition the Order for permission. It’s not something to be taken lightly, and going in, it has to be understood that the marriage, their partner, does not come first. Duty before love. A Jedi cannot prioritize one individual before their job, the good of the galaxy and all that. And that can be tough for a partner to understand and live with. It’s a more difficult road, which might lead to electing to leave the Order as the alternative. Thus, Jedi marrying isn’t very common and not general knowledge. (Also I am very down with the idea of the Order an aro/ace culture, and generally, romance and such just isn’t very relevant. So if it happens, it happens but it’s not something sought out.)

So anyways, back to Tegaanal’s ‘verse. The Jedi Order in general is fine with their people having soulmates, especially considering it’s a Force-given bond in some way. Just as it’s impolite to ask if someone has a soulmate, it isn’t known which Jedi have soulmates unless they themselves disclose it. (Hence, only a few people know Obi has a soulmate.) But it’s like the whole thing with commitment and marriage. If a Jedi finds their soulmate, can they put duty before their (platonic or romantic) soulmate? And is there danger of attachment? And I imagine that is something a Jedi with a soulmark, whether they’ve found their soulmate yet or not, is tested on, through the trials they face on Ilum, at their Trials, etc. And it’s something they’ll have to assess after they meet their soulmate and talk it out with them. 

As to differing opinions on soulmates, yes indeed. I kind of imagine it like the ability to See the future or like prophecies. It exists but the extent to which an individual Jedi puts stock into it varies. Some think a soulmate isn’t required for a fulfilling life, so there’s no point in seeking them out and such -- if they meet they meet, if not oh well. Others might put more stock into soulmates because it’s like a Force bond but also not. The Force has a hand in it so it must be important.

...that’s it, I think. Ending this before it gets longer LOL

Thank you for your ask and thanks for reading!! <333