#this has been a wip for AGES and i finally decided to finish it
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tiny-wyrms · 2 months ago
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They would have loved this. You never got to show them.
(scene from so small)
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raplinesmoon · 2 months ago
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Breaking The Ice (KNJ x F!Reader) - teaser
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pairing: hockeyplayer!namjoon x f. reader
genre/au: ice hockey au, college au, roommates au / smut, fluff, slow burn
rating: explicit/18+
summary: after last season, namjoon knows he can’t afford anymore mishaps. when you show up on namjoon’s doorstep looking to share his apartment, he thinks it couldn’t be more perfect. medical school has you even busier than he is, but what happens when what used to be the perfect arrangement turns into a bigger distraction than either of you bargained for?
word count: 911 for this teaser
warnings: clumsy Joon, injuries, lots of swearing, Joon gets a boner, OC is pretty and way too nice
a/n: *taps mic* is this thing on? happy Joon day! (i hope i made the deadline). I remembered I had this sitting on the bench (get it lol) as a scene from my wip for the 🏒on ice: for the boys collab that was announced a long time ago! I decided to spruce up this little scene and publish it, even though the final fic is nowhere near complete. This can probably even be read as a standalone (a cute moment between roomies)! I hope you enjoy this piece and happy bday again to Joonie! credits for the banner go to @joheunsaram!
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You okay, Namjoon-ah?
Namjoon wants to deck Kim Seokjin and his stupid pretty boy smile into the boards just for asking, when that motherfucker knows he’s at fault for Namjoon’s current state. He feels a painful twinge in his side, sucking in a sharp breath. Practice had barely ended before Namjoon was hobbling out of the arena, the rough-housing that normally accompanied Bangtan’s practice going a little too far today.
When he sees the steps of his building come into view, he nearly wants to sob with relief. Cursing, he stumbles up them, skipping two at a time in the hopes that it’ll get him up and able to faceplant into the couch faster. Knowing his luck though, he’d probably eat his words and end up with his face straight into the ugly grey shag carpet instead.
As he limps down the hallway, he’s struck by dueling aromas – the earthy, nutty mellowness of freshly brewed coffee, and the warm, spicy cinnamon scent of cinnamon. Both coming from his door, propped open slightly, where he can hear the faint lilt of classical music escape. 
Anatomy must have been whooping your ass again.
Namjoon takes special care to slip inside quietly, wincing when he puts weight on his knee. He glances down to see that it’s swelled to an alarming size. Fucking Seokjin.
He knew he should have probably gotten it checked out by the team medic. Yoongi’s nagging is already echoing in the back of his mind, reminding Namjoon that if he wanted to be clumsy, he had to stay on top of his injuries. For the sake of his team.
But somehow getting his limbs checked by a crusty old guy who was past the retirement age didn’t seem nearly as exciting when there was you. 
You who always wore the comfiest sweats, ones he was half-tempted to steal from your closet. You and your penchant for always looking for a pen, when you always had one tucked behind your ear or in your hoodie pocket. You and your stress baking, winning the adoration of his teammates (Stupid Seokjin and his flirting), but most of all him. Your damn cinammon rolls were worth every extra minute he had to spend in the weight room keeping them off.
“Hey Joon, I was just finishing up the cinnamon rolls, they’re on the cooling rack— what happened?” Your smile falls when you take him in, knee as red as his jersey, and a nasty cut under his eyebrow, skin turning purplish underneath.
Namjoon thinks he might pass out, either from the pain or from the way your face falls in disappointment, and the plush cushions of the couch seem like a great place to bury his head into right now.
He’s given a few quiet moments to stew before he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he swears when your face nearly collides with his, noses bumping with such force that you have to take a step back, rubbing gingerly at the bridge.
Great fucking impression you’re making on your pretty roommate, Namjoon. She’s totally into getting clocked in the face. The little devil on his shoulder must be having a ball right now.
“Fuck, ___, I’m so sorry, fuck–”
“It’s okay, Joon, I know you didn’t mean to. But we only have the resources for one injured party in this apartment, yeah?”
Namjoon feels his face heat, not sure if he’s just embarrassed or you’re too close close to him. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you pick up his knee, studying it with a furrow in your brow.
What a day to decide to wear grey sweatpants. His dick-print was so happy with him right now, and he silently prays that your eyes remain downwards.
“We need to wrap this up. Give me a sec and I’ll help you.” 
Is he dreaming, or does your face look a little flushed? If you notice his boner, he’s happy you don’t say anything, humming softly s you disappear into the hallway, rummaging around in the closet for the first-aid kit.
You re-appear moments later, a roll full of medical tape in your hand, and you’re back to prodding at his knee again. Namjoon sinks into the couch, body relaxing at your gentle touch.
Only to jolt a few seconds later when he feels something cold hit his aching joints, nearly whacking you a second time. God, he had to be more careful.
“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips, and Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat. “Gotta put some ice on it.”
“You should really increase your fees, doc. I’m pretty sure at-home care isn’t included in the job description.”
Is he flirting? Fuck, okay he’s flirting. He’s doing this.
“Maybe I like knowing I’ll always have a patient who keeps me in business,” you wink, fingers lingering longer than necessary on his knee when you finish wrapping it. Your hands move next to the cut underneath his brow.
“Now what are we gonna do with you?”
Oh fuck, abort, abort mission! Namjoon shoots straight up, grimacing at your shocked gasp.
“YouknowIjustrememberedIhaveanassignmentdueatmidnighttoday! I should really go work on that!”
You say nothing as he limps into his room, smiling widely at him the whole time. Namjoon collapses on his bed, groaning into the pillows.
Maybe getting banged up wasn’t so bad after all. Not when he always had you around to patch him up.
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a/n pt. 2: As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3
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nyxronomicon · 6 months ago
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🍉 sponsor a fic for gaza 🍉
hey y'all! I decided to offer some of my favorite WIPs up for sponsorship as part of the @ficsforgaza campaign.
🔞 these fics and my blog are all 18+ and include smut and dark themes. minors DNI 🔞
to sponsor a fic, you can make a donation to the vetted charity of your choice. then, send a screenshot to me (feel free to block out personal info! I just need the amount and the charity visible) and let me know which fic you'd like it to go towards!
you can either send these in an ask or dm my main blog @vampnyx (sorry I can't turn dms on here lol)
not sure where to donate? gaza funds picks a random vetted gofundme each time you click the page. prefer a charity? I've donated to Palestinian Children's Relief Fund
for every $1 donated, I will add 100 words to the sponsored fic. for donations $5 or more, I can incorporate a kink of your choice into the fic (see my list of preferred kinks on my pinned).
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salvation | suguru geto x f!reader (series masterlist)
Nearly a year and a half after your divorce, Suguru Geto still texts you. You stopped responding after he told you the ridiculous lie that he was a priest a year ago. When he sends a picture of himself in his priest robes, you feel a little guilty about ignoring him all this time. cw: dub-con (coersion), manipulation, others listed on the series masterlist. (sponsorship going towards the final two chapters of the series) words sponsored: 0/4000
thank you for the venom | toji fushiguro x f!reader
years of cheating and verbal abuse pushes you to murder your rich husband, satoru gojo. finishing a lovely dinner with him slumped over the table, you're surprised when toji shows up in your dining room to assassinate him, only to find him dead already. He offers to clean up your mess, but not for free. cw: reader kills her husband (poison), knife play (no cutting just a bit of danger), manhandling, toji physically restrains reader, other cw tbd words written: 1.1k of 2k-ish words sponsored: 1000/1000 🎉🎉
paperwork | enji todoroki x f!reader
you've been endeavor's secretary for years, and even though he's recently been named number one pro hero after all might's retirement, it seems his life is falling apart. though you've mutually pined for each other over the years, it never went anywhere. that is, until you accidentally mention that enji has always been your number one hero. cw: implied age difference, porn w plot, angst, power dynamic (enji's your boss lol), size (emphasis on him being large lol), other cw tbd words written: 1.5k of 2.5-3k words sponsored: 500/1500
blissful nightmare | death meme!Gallagher x f!reader
au based on the idea that gallagher transforms into the death meme werewolf-style. you talk your favorite bartender, gallagher, into taking you deeper into the dreamscape. the veil keeping gallagher in his human form becomes harder for him to control the deeper he goes, but his lust for you has him diving into that abyss after you. cw: monsterfucking, horror themes, rough sex, claws, heat cycle will be a revised and lengthened version of this words sponsored: 500/2000
fushiguro step.cest au | step.dad!toji / step.bro!megumi x f!reader
for this one I'm doing something a little different. here's the au so far: step.dad!toji | step.bro!megumi toji can't keep his hands off you (obviously) even in public. even in front of his son, though he tries to be discreet he's rarely successful. and of course, there are always consequences when you mess with megumi... cw: step.cest!!, megumi is ROUGH, cucking, maybe public/risky location, brat taming (from megumi), other cw tbd I'm allowing a vote per dollar spent on how many words I will use on each character's respective sex scenes, to a 2k total word max. If you'd like to sponsor this one, please let me know how you'd like to distribute your votes! words for megumi: 500 words for toji: 500 total words sponsored: 1000/2000
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I have many WIPs so it's likely as I finish these I may swap in others. if you've seen me talking about a WIP you may be interested in sponsoring, let me know! I'm happy to open up other WIPs in the interest of supporting Palestine!!
posts about this (not the completed fics) will be tagged #nyx writes for gaza
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snail-eggs · 6 months ago
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Fics For Gaza
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In hopes of being able to raise money to aid those in Gaza, I have decided to join @ficsforgaza! They have lots of wonderful information on their blog, as well as vetted fundraisers; proof of donation to these will be necessary for for both sponsoring a WIP and requesting a drabble!
I will be doing this at a rate of $1/100 words, and will be updating my progress on each fic accordingly.
As for requests, I am bending my own no request/OC only rule and allowing them both for this cause. They can be up to 1k words and I am open to both SFW and NSFW.
With proof of donation (sensitive information redacted) you can send me an ask letting me know which WIP you would like to sponsor or what request for a fic you may have!
*updates for every WIP will be posted regularly until they are finished and posted. donors, if not anonymous, will be tagged.
you must be 18+ to send in a request, as per the rules on my blog
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Sponsor a WIP:
Famous Last Words (An Ode To Eaters) | Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/OFC | Bones and All AU
This fic has been fully sponsored!
est. final wc: 10,500
current wc: 6,619
Ever since she can remember, Nyra has led a lonesome life fueled by her desire for flesh. To sink her teeth into it and rip it from the bone, feeling the pulse of her poor victim beating against her mouth. She lives drifting from place to place, giving in to this ravenous hunger that controls her, leaving nothing but devastation in her wake. But Nyra yearns for something else; a connection that she cannot quite place and it is only when she meets fellow eater Astarion that she finds it. It terrifies her, this intimacy. It is a thing she never thought she would know in her lifetime and yet here it is, in the form of the pale elf. Together, they traverse the country and fall into their gruesome routine, finding themselves becoming closer. Inseparable. A sense of normalcy and comfort washes over them that Nyra can't seem to settle into. Something is out there, watching them, and at every stop, she can feel it getting closer.
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Urn | Cyberpunk 2077 | Johnny Silverhand/OFC
est. final wc: 25,000 (3 chapters)
current wc: 0
She watches from the church parking lot as animals are taken to slaughter. Looks into their sweet, mournful eyes from holes in shit covered trailers. Hers water. A dust storm is blowing through a town in middle-of-nowhere Texas and she’s in the thick of it. Letting the dirt erode her, the wind rock her from side to side. The storm howls. Shouts vile things in her ears that she cannot understand. It is violent — biblical in its anger. She listens.  Jessica Ferreira has lived in the same town her entire life and has, above all, learned to listen. 
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Whistleblower | Resident Evil | Leon Kennedy/OFC
est. final wc: 50,000 (10 Chapters)
current wc: 0
Amateur reporter Lana Laguerre is going against every NDA, every penny and dime of hush money to expose what happened in Raccoon City. All the while, Leon Kennedy is desperately urging her to let it die. Her life hangs in the balance of this earth-shattering expose. Its 1999 and wounds are fresh in a city alive and teeming with endless possibility. Will Lana live long enough to see her story through?
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Thoroughfare | Red Dead Redemption 2 | Arthur Morgan/ OFC
est. final wc: 15,000
current wc: 0
Arthur thought this would be easy. Rob the store and get out. Now with a shotgun at his temple, he can’t help but fear that his life is about to end. Ana’s has only just begun.
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Requestable Fandoms:
Fallout (TV and game), Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age, Stardew Valley, Saints Row, Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption 2, Watch Dogs/Watch Dogs 2
dividers @/saradika
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cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago
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For your newest make me write. Im in a huge complete supernatural/fantasy like AU mood here recently so my requests are going to be towards that this week. Also both of them are supposed to be 15 emojis apiece so can we pretend they are if they are not? (Kinda sorry about all the zombies…but feel free to sub everything to vampires or another WIP if you want)
🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im so ready for the Maddie/Buck reunion and ensuing shenanigans. I think by the time you get to to this that the new chapter *may* be out that goes over that. But im also enjoying other aspects of the story as well. I very rarely read bathena start fics so their relationship developing is exciting for me to see as well).
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸(Spoilery for those not caught up BUT OMG BUCK WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! I was not ready for that!)
Woohoo 90 total sentences for monster fics!
45 for 🧟 (THANK YOU!!!):
---
 “Just… Be careful.”
Chim thinks he probably should listen to her. But he also knows he likely won’t. 
▪️▪️▪️
If anything, Chim gets worse. And that might be problematic if his feelings were one-sided, but after dinner, it becomes more or less obvious that they are not.
They do dishes together. A chore Chim usually finds tiresome, but now is somehow fun. Christopher and Denny have already begged Maddie, Hen, and Karen to have a sleepover together. Something Chim finds somewhat redundant, seeing as every day forever is a sleepover here. But Chris wants to sleep in Denny’s room. 
“Please,” Karen had insisted when Maddie had asked if they were sure it was okay. “He finally gets to have friends his own age. Chris can have as many sleepovers as he wants.”
So Maddie is off kid duty tonight. 
“Other than movie night,” she asks as they’re finishing up with dishes. “What is there to do around here in the evenings?”
“You got something against movie night?” Chim teases.
“No!” Maddie insists. “Just exploring my options.”
“Well, there are games,” Chim says. But then he has another thought. “Or the roof.”
“The roof?” Maddie asks. 
“Yeah. We’ve got chairs up there. We can steal your brother’s stereo. It’s great for looking at the stars. Now that the light pollution is gone.” 
Chim wonders if this is too weird. Too forward. Too intimate. Too much like a date, if the world was normal enough to afford dates. Actually, scratch that. He knows Hen has set up a date for Karen up there, under the stars. On their wedding anniversary. God, what is he doing?
“That sounds really nice,” Maddie says. “Would you… Would you want to do that with me?”
God, obviously.
“I’d like that, yeah.”
---
45 for 🩸 (Buck's gonna Buck!)
---
“Neither am I,” Eddie says. “Okay?”
Buck nods, still a little weepy. 
“Okay.”
💧💧💧
As tired as he is, Buck can’t really sleep for very long periods. A wound to his front and a wound to his back means nothing is comfortable. Eddie helps set him up on an assortment of pillows to prop him in just the right position, but it’s still a more or less futile effort. He manages to get a little bit of rest when his pain medication sets in, but otherwise, he’s awake and uncomfortable. 
Brought down to reality by his conversation, Buck really gets a chance to think through what he’d nearly done. Not the killing part - which he’d been more focused on before - but the dying part. And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about just how right Eddie was. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want their life together to be over just as it finally started.
He really let that compulsive need to fix everything almost get him killed. Maddie was right. He needs to deal with this properly. This pit of dread that lives in his chest that says he is going to lose everything horribly. That says life will never be safe again. He needs to address that head on, and not by trying to be one step ahead of every possible danger. He needs to go back to therapy. He will, he decides. The minute he’s physically up to it.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says again, later that night, when everyone is sleeping and Buck is laying awake beside Eddie. He knows he’s probably going to be saying it for a long time. 
Eddie blinks awake. “Hmm?”
“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats. 
“For waking me up?” 
“No, for everything.”
Eddie sighs. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you.”
“But I’m still sorry.” 
“Buck,” Eddie complains. “Don’t do this. This doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”
“I’m going to go to therapy,” Buck says. 
“That’s a good idea,” Eddie says. “We could both use therapy. Do you think there are vampire therapists?”
“If there’s not, there should be,” Buck replies. “They’d have the corner on the market right now.”
“Exactly,” Eddie says. “And surely some shrink out there got bit?”
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mysticalsoot · 1 year ago
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reconciliation and forgiveness
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part 2 of 'peer pressure and canned beer' // bs au
➸ note; so- it's not Halloween themed but it is a fic I've been procrastinating finishing for five months (basically no motivation for it-) but it's now complete and I have some more wips for this au that I'm working on!! i couldn't keep it to myself any longer so- yeah here I am!! also!! please let me know if you want to be added to the bs au taglist or my main taglist
➸ pairing; bs!au wilbur gold/soot x gn!reader
➸ summary; after convincing from your other crew trainer and a couple weeks of a break; you finally decide to talk it out with wilbur on what happened that night (can be read as standalone but context from part 1 would be good as well!)
➸ warning; angst, hurt/comfort, I easily forgive Wilbur, that's my own problem, kissing, mentions of being drunk/hungover, probably swearing, tension but not good tension
➸ age-rating; 15+
➸ wordcount; 2.9k
part 1
main masterlist
---
Your hope somehow turned into a manifestation, and thankfully, Wilbur got stuck in sickbay--after Grace had dragged him there, of course following a very very long drawn out lecture that he most definitely deserved. You wanted to lay in bed and rot, you didn't want to talk to anyone, speak a single word or even open your eyes. You managed to get away with that for the first half of the day, and you hummed when you felt the bed dip beside you. Your dad was here.
"Kiddo.. how are you feeling?" You open your eyes, watching as his lips curl into a solemn smile.
"I'm not the one with a hangover." Your tone is flat and dry, you could care less for inflection at this moment. You'd rather be left alone to wither away to dust, but your dad is insistent. He isn't going to let go, he'll want to be there for you, and he always has.
"Yeah, well, when he's out of sickbay I'm going to have a talk with him and then his parents," He pats your knee, sighing before looking down and folding his hands in his lap.
"Is he.." Your voice falters as you take a deep breath and curl onto your side, "Will he get in trouble?"
Your dad shrugs, looks over at you and let's a soft smile curl on his lips before speaking, "A bit. He did break curfew, sneak out and consume alcohol. But I do know him, and I know it wasn't his idea. I'm not going to punish him as if it was his idea."
"You know it was- It was them, right?" Your father nods at your inquiry.
"It was obvious that it was, this isn't the first time they've pulled such a thing," he pauses, thinking for a moment, he rubs your hair and then sighs, “I think you should go ahead to breakfast, yeah?”
He stands up, nodding at you, bidding to see you later before leaving the room. You groan in annoyance before standing up and heading to your dorm to change. It doesn't take you longer than a few minutes to do so, not bothering with your hair before shutting your dorm door and hurrying down the stairs.
It's a Saturday morning, at least lucky for you. And perhaps for Wil too. He stays in sickbay and doesn't miss any classes. You don't have any classes to attend and you can just flee back to your room to rot, like you intended to.
Your mind sort of shuts down on the walk over to the cafeteria, numb of thoughts and feelings as your eyes drop carelessly. It's relatively bare of students, which isn't a surprise for eight in the morning on a Saturday, most kids wake up around nine or ten and don't bother to eat until lunchtime.
Unlucky for you, you're a morning bird and so is Andy. So even if you didn't sleep in his and your father's dorm, you'd still wake up to have breakfast with him.
The moment you step into line, grabbing your tray after you sanitized your hands, your mind then fell to thoughts of Wil. Mornings where you'd both stand in line and talking about everything and nothing while grabbing your food and sitting down together. Laughing and smiling and going about your days together. Something you can't quite do now, and you aren't sure if you even want to. Do you even want to be around him?
It's a valid question that you asked yourself, although you're sure in a week you'll have forgiven him and forgotten about last night. But for the moment, you feel more hurt and angry than he's ever made you. Maybe it's the fact he let himself get pressured, or maybe it's that he didn't stop May from kissing him or the words he used when you tried to help him. It was probably a combination of things, but lucky for him you can't seem to be angry at him for long.
Your tray fills up, or at least somewhat. The star hashbrowns and the pancakes shaped as moons seem to be your choice for the morning. You find a seat at your usual place, staring out the large windows and watching students and teachers walk by. Some museum guests too, admiring the newly remodeled Pathfinder. It only took them four or so years to get it fixed, so might as well admire their work.
What feels like miliseconds but was probably minutes passes by, and Andy fits a seat in front of you, smiling softly with almost a hint of sadness to it.
"How are you feeling?" He speaks so gently, like you were a kicked puppy completely incapable of doing anything.
"Why do people keep fucking asking me that? I'm fucking fine," You seethe, and you catch a glimpse of Andy almost flinching and then his mouth curves down into a frown, "Sorry," you mumble the simple apology, looking down and sighing.
"I'm just worried about you, kiddo. Y'know? We all are," He almost reaches forward to rest his hand on yours, but he holds back realizing it may not be the best idea. Words will simply have to do.
"Everyone heard, huh?" you scoff, rolling your eyes at the thought as you mess with your pancakes, not bothering to eat them quite yet.
Andy nods gingerly, "The whole floor probably."
"That's my fault, I shouldn't have provoked a drunk guy," you put down your fork, glancing up at Andy as he gazes at you, worry etched on his features.
"It's no one's fault, okay? It happened and things will be handled accordingly. Your father and I have a meeting with Evan and Cati, and the trainers for that other team. Hopefully we'll come to an agreement on what happened before we get leadership involved," He takes a bite of his own food after speaking, hoping that it'll somehow indirectly encourage you to eat. It's worked before, so why not now?
"Keep dad in check for me, yeah?" A soft smirk plays on your lips at the thought, your dad can be decently protective of his kids and sometimes gets a bit heated. He's a good teacher though, and Ethan is the same way. Cati and Andy have a handful today.
"I'll do my best, lucky for me, he's short and easily containable," He pauses, sucking in a breath as his eyebrows raise, "Mostly."
He keeps quiet for a while, watching you every now and then as you slowly eat your breakfast. Your mind wanders where it shouldn't, dabbling in thoughts that should never see the light of day, but yet they do.
Thoughts and regrets bubble up, swirling together in a dangerous concoction. Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut. Or perhaps it would've been best if you fought him on going. The mature thing to do is to talk to Wilbur, get it over with and come to a kind agreement. But what you want to do is never speak to him again. You know you're probably being overdramatic. That it isn't worth your breath to ponder over it or be so pissed off about the situation. It wastes more energy than it's worth. Yet you can't help it, you're hurt and you're angry and all you want to do is scream at the moment.
"You should go visit Wilbur, talk to him," Andy finally speaks up, his tray already taken care of and the team's teacher binder set in front of him.
"I don't think it's a good idea," A deep sigh slips past your lips as you chew on a hashbrown you grabbed a moment ago.
"You'll never know if you don't try," He pauses, hesitating and thinking over whatever he has planned to say next, "It may be your last time to see him in person for a while. He's probably going to be suspended."
You weigh the thought in your mind, considering his words and your own thoughts and worries. It takes you a few minutes before you nod, surrendering, "Okay, fine," you let out a gentle breath, playing with your food again.
Andy smiles, nodding before standing up and taking his binder with him. He begins to walk away before stopping beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder to encourage you to meet his eyes. You do.
"I love you, kiddo. Remember that," His lips curve up softly, a warm smile meant for you. The intention meant to solidify his words. He loves you, and you're thankful of that.
"I know," you smile softly, nodding as you keep your gaze up at him, "I love you too."
He nods again, patting your shoulder before walking away and then you're left with your thoughts yet again. Letting them run wild won't do you much good, even if wallowing and rotting seems the most appealing, it isn't the best plan of action. So you take a deep breath, and stand up, walking over to take care of your tray. You run your fingers over the concrete walls, letting your mind numb itself for the walk over to sick bay.
You pray and hope this isn't a bad idea, that Wilbur won't be against seeing you. That he won't view you in the way he seemed to last night. That he'll hear you out for once and perhaps rectify what he messed up. You have responsibility in the matter as well, and you have every plan to apologize yourself. Where you can, at the least.
It's fall now, the chilly air filling your lungs and what leaves have changed now fall from selective trees. Alabama Octobers are like that, selective in its weather and what leaves fall, and what trees turn. But it's nice, it's relaxing and it gives something different even if it's annoying.
You pass underneath the Pathfinder, gazing up at it as you venture through the courtyard it's placed in. There's not many students out today, or at this hour at the least. But a few wander the campus, speaking amongst one another. A few couples make out behind bushes or behind aircraft. You turn into the covered opening, pushing the door open and entering sick bay.
A younger nurse sits at the desk and looks up at you, "What can I do for you, hun?" Her smile is sweet and soft, it's welcoming and she seems decently spry for how early it is.
"I'm here to visit Wilbur Gold?" Your voice lilts at the end, raising in question as you fidget with your fingers.
"He's over there, bunk two," she smiles and nods and you make your way over, knocking on the walls separating the bunk areas.
"Hi," you whisper, eyes glancing down at Wilbur where he sits on the bottom bunk. He looks up at you, eyes widening in a combination of shock and worry.
"Hey," he mumbles in return, putting down the textbook he had in hand and shutting it.
You hold your breath for a moment, mind wandering for a few more seconds as you wonder what to say and then it slips out, "I'm sorry, about last night."
You step into the small bunk room, fingers wringing together and tapping your fingertips together. He shakes his head, a wry laugh let out at your words.
"It's not your fault," 
You stop him short, "but I did antagonize you."
For some reason that you cant quite place, you don't have it in you to be angry, and instead you're just in a state of guilt. You should have stopped him from going, even if it wasn't your job to protect him.
"So? I was the drunk asshole who kissed another girl. I'm sorry, y/n. It's my fault." He pats the spot beside him, pulling his legs up against his chest to make room for you on the small bunk.
You keep quiet, not sure what else to say as you take a seat on the other side of the bunk, keeping your gaze on the wall. Wilbur mirrors your silence, chewing on his lip, his eyes boring into the side of your face.
"I'm only getting a two week suspension," he finally breaks the silence, trying desperately to grasp at something, anything with you.
You nod softly, taking in a deep breath, you turn to him yet don't make eye contact, "Good," you stop again, standing and beginning to walk out.
"I forgive you, but- I need a bit. if that's okay?" You step through the doorway, over the threshold and turn the corner. Wilbur doesn't respond, he just lets the vacant sound of your footsteps retreating out of sickbay.
He doesn't know what he'll do with himself when he's gone, yet he's sure some wallowing will be involved.
You, on the other hand, spend the rest of the day hiding away in the Davidson center. Wilbur is on the other side of campus, packing for his two week suspension back at home. You're sure his parents had a few colorful words for him once they were called and that you were right about. His father had more things to say than his mom, of anything his dad wasn't as aware as her on how susceptible Wilbur could be to peer pressure. Wil wasn't sure if his dad even knew him anymore, and sometimes you wonder if you would have felt the same, if your dad hadn't adopted you. Maybe Charlie feels that way.
You kept to yourself for the following two weeks, talking with your sister and some of your friends but mostly keeping to yourself. You spend so much time to yourself that you're ahead with your work, which isn't too out of the picture since you mostly are on track but with the extra time to yourself; you get ahead.
As usual, your dad is proud of you, showing that outwardly but also keeping his worries to himself, watching you closely and almost acting as if you'll break if he breathes too hard. And maybe you will, you're not even sure yourself. 
Sometimes you feel like a live fuse, ready to burn and implode, but other times you just feel numb, unsure on how to process things. Yet as the day he comes back crawls closer, you find yourself growing at peace with your situation, still missing him but almost forgiving him through his absence. You kept in contact with him, but it was far and few between given your schedule with school and him sort of being a bit grounded. He did explain that was his father's doing, it made sense to you how it was.
You woke up that morning, reaching for your phone just to see the excited messages he left for you. How he was finally looking forward to seeing you again, and the plans he had for you both.
You knew he had apologies attached and that he only wanted to mutter them in person, for that, you were thankful.
You managed to go about your day quietly, tidying up your bunk before heading over to the library on campus, returning a few books you borrowed for a project, and then walking back over to the main museum. Wandering through the halls and exhibits, admiring them as if you don't pass by them hundreds of times a day. It kept your mind off everything.
Somewhere between them and now, you'd walked back to your dorm, turning into the room only to see Wilbur unpacking. You stop in the doorway, watching him make his bunk and put away his bags.
"Hey, Wil," you finally speak up, greeting him and he immediately turns to face you, smiling happily at you.
"Hey," he whispers, walking over to you and offering a hug, which you gratefully take, falling into his arms and hugging him tightly around his waist.
"I'm glad you're back," you mumble against his chest, holding yourself tighter against him, reveling in his warmth; something you didnt realize you missed so much.
"Me too," he breathes, kissing your cheek before pulling back to look down at you, "I'm sorry, genuinely. I shouldn't have let her kiss me, and I sure as hell shouldn't have snapped at you how I did. You didn't deserve any of that, and so I'm sorry."
a small smile creeps up on your lips as he speaks, rambling at a speed faster than what should be humanly possible. so once he takes a breath, you lean up to press your lips to his, letting his mold to yours as you kiss one another, the exchange beginning to build in tension. he holds his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as you reach your fingers to sift through the curls on the back of his head. soft whimpers and hums are shared between your mouths, his grip getting tighter as you lift yourself higher on your toes.
you take a few more moments before you both decide to break for breath, eyes meeting before you both smile and laugh, "so, am I forgiven?" he whispers against your lips, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before swiping his thumbs over your hip bones.
"mmm.. yeah, I think so," you giggle, standing back flat on your feet before you begin to tug him towards the door.
"where are you taking me?" he speaks through soft laughs, quite happy with how things turned out, even if he got his ass handed to him.
"our spot."
he smiles at the mention, nodding as you drag him away; most likely to make out. regardless, you're both happy with how things turned out and are sure to move forward from here. you forgave him, so all that needs to happen is for him to forgive himself.
main taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos
bs au taglist; @lillylvjy @lyssys
(send an ask to be added to either list!!)
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avelera · 8 months ago
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So I’ve gone back and I’ve been reading some Old Guard fic (as I try to get motivated to write the last damn chapter of my one damn TOG WIP finished so I can finally moved on), and I must admit, one silly and very minor pet peeve I have in some Nicky/Joe fics for the Old Guard that explore their Crusader days is the trope of having them go a really long time without being able to understand each other. Because based on Nicky’s path as a Crusader even getting to the Holy Land, and the various hints we have that Joe has a pretty worldly background, I would suggest they should have had a baseline to communicate already when they met and that bridging the gap would have gone very quickly for one or both of them once they committed to learning.
There’s a few reasons I find them going a really long time without speaking each other’s language (most likely Nicky picking up Arabic) somewhat implausible:
- First, just based on my own personal experience: I went through a full language immersion experience myself and yes it was painful and yes, having textbooks and classes certainly helped, but all told it was 3-4 months from almost zero before I could start doing normal things for my age group like read simple books and do homework. However, the most effective language learning program in the country, Middlebury, does a full immersion program that gets people to baseline functionality in 6 weeks. Yes, learning a language is hard and I will be the first to say that mastery takes years and mastery without immersion is nearly impossible, but if you’re completely immersed there, without options, it goes much faster. You won’t be fluent of course but you will be conversational. Also, by all accounts, being illiterate or otherwise not bothering to learn how to read and write at the same time and ONLY going for verbal communication actually makes things go even faster.
- People who pick up by speaking (rather than reading and writing) and people who speak multiple languages already tend to pick up other languages even more quickly. Once you learn one or two, a lot of polyglots don’t stop there. There is that old joke: the word for speaking three languages is trilingual, two languages is bilingual, and speaking only one language is American. Which is to say I think native English speaking writers might be the ones underestimating how quickly a language can be learned (at least to a conversational level).
- Now throw in the fact that both Nicky and Joe have been recently in multilingual societies or organizations as a requirement of their meeting during the First Crusade, no matter how you slice it. Either as both coming from a merchant trading backgrounds traveling across international (so to speak) lands, or Nicky being part of the pan-European Christian army where multiple languages would be spoken across the camp, to him possibly having a priest background which would mean Latin as well. Not to mention Greek if Nicky picked up anything while in Constantinople (if he came over land). Nicky also would have been on the road to the Holy Land, if he went overland, for as long as 3 years and in Antioch before Jerusalem.
- Now, as an admitted caveat to all of this, I’ve lived overseas and it is absolutely common for expats to live in a country for years without bothering to pick up the local language at all. There were cultural and societal reasons that European Crusaders and the Egyptian Fatimids who lost Jerusalem wouldn’t bother to learn each other’s languages or any of the common merchants tongue or other common languages like Greek to bother to talk to each other. That’s absolutely fair to invoke for why they wouldn’t have a single word of any language in common.
- However, I will say, once both or either of them decided to try, I think some writers don’t give enough credit for how quickly one or the other would pick a language up, especially if it’s the language of the country they’re in (basically, I think once he tried, Nicky would pick up Arabic very quickly if he’s still in the Holy Land by the time he and Joe start trying to communicate). Effort plus full immersion is probably the single fastest way to learn a language, you’d be able to have rudimentary conversations within a few months at most. Really from there it’s just a question of whose country are they in once they start talking and stop trying to kill each other.
TL;DR I will be the first to say an author should go with what makes their story work best BUT there’s plenty of historically backed reasons why Nicky and Joe should have been able to carry on a basic conversation with each other from when they first met, and not be completely stymied in communicating with each other because of a language barrier.
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sailor-hufflepuff · 3 months ago
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I have a conundrum.
My darklina fic “Seeing You Again” has been a joy to write, but from the beginning I haven’t really had much of a plan on how the plot would unfold. And while that’s given me room for some truly emotional scenes/revelations, it also means that the last couple of chapters have taken me ages to write as I’m forced to confront the fact that I’ve written myself into a corner where my original plot would no longer work.
So now I get to decide between letting it continue to languish, with sporadic updates, until inspiration magically appears to fix the plot hole….
Or writing just one or two more chapters to tie up the current plot line and ending it there.
Opinions?
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amkalus · 2 months ago
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~~~
Figured I'd introduce myself properly to this wonderful community! I am Ann (26). Primarily interested in exploring archetypes, symbols, and fairy tale elements plot-wise, as well as physical and mental health issues character-wise. I write fantasy and science fiction (and occasionally historical fiction).
About me:
Majored in Psychology and English with Creative Writing (English is my second language)
Writing is basically my lifeline, I get depressed if I don't do it
Infatuated with myths, legends, folklore—and history
Questionably obsessed with the mad genius trope [I blame Victor Frankenstein, Sherlock Holmes, and Gregory House for this]
In love with the sea and all things age of sail [I went for a swim during a black-clouded thunderstorm on a cold September afternoon once, that's how down bad I am]
Can't write a short story to save my life [you shall only find novels beyond this gate, traveler]
My WIPs:
Oh boy, I've got a lot of them, but I'll share the main ones briefly. [bonus, emojis for vibes lol]
The Sea Whisperer (finished, 122k words) 🌊⚓🌩️
Already have a post about this YA adventure fantasy (seek #The Sea Whisperer) and planning to add some more, but here's the premise once more:
The fishing village of Galacair has been the only home Earwyn’s ever known. Between the mysterious illness that plagues her and the villagers who consider her cursed, surviving gets harder with each dreary day. But there are whispers coming from the sea which ceaselessly beckon her, and an ominous vision of a calamity that haunts her dreams. Earwyn fears they could be a part of her illness too, and that madness has befallen her. The only one who seems to know something about it is Galacair’s lighthouse keeper, whose tower is as strange and remote as he is.
Wrote this story because I wanted to bring some awareness to PCOS syndrome and the difficulties of living with it. But also because of my aforementioned love for the sea, including tall ships, shanties, and magic.
I've been querying for this one for 6 months with no success. Likely to undergo new revisions/editing.
The King's Steward/The King's Embroiderer 🗡️❄️🔥
A loose retelling of a quite obscure Nenets fairy tale called Kotura, Lord of the Winds with a Skyrim-esque Scandinavian-inspired medieval setting. A sort of fire vs ice battle going on. Definitely in the YA range. Very likely to be a duology!
Aira Alderkvist knows she's destined to become the kingdom's best and most beloved embroiderer, in the court of the king. She met him once when she was a child, alone by the snow-clad woods, and no one believed her. But she will finally prove her skill and that her story was true at the upcoming obeisance.
In the capital city of Vallholm, Sorena Froradottir prepares to abandon her post as a steward imposed on her against her will, and flee. However, on the night of the king's obeisance where noblemen and commoners gather, jarl Ravnan Jarnsen unexpectedly usurps the throne. Sorena must decide between deserting the kingdom in the hands of a tyrant rumored to be using forbidden fire magic... or leave, and find a new life unburdened and free.
So far I have 18k words written on this and a detailed plan chapter by chapter, which I will hopefully stick to (doubtful).
To All the Royal Subjects in the Land (working title because this is too long and cringe?) 🍁🕸️🎭
This is basically a dream project for me, for I have always dreamed of writing fantasy comedy. Only, I played myself cause medieval-based comedy is hard as hell? Honestly, though, I absolutely love wracking my brain with it. You can't be a writer without being at least a little masochistic, I think.
This is an NA/Adult fantasy rom-com [Mrs Maisel meets Beauty and the Beast], and a gender-bent version of the Russian fairy tale The Princess Who Never Smiled, in which a clever traveling jestress who values her freedom above all faces a joyless Prince.
Soon after entering a kingdom where joy and laughter are forbidden, Sarai realizes she'll be forced to break a foul spell if she wants to leave. And she grudgingly agrees. But it promises to be no easy task when this withering kingdom is caught in endless autumn, the Prince's odd, mist-veiled castle seems to be crumbling each day, and his knights are ever-so eerily quiet.
Will likely share more about what this story features in other posts! This is currently sitting at 22.5k words.
Sentinel Chronicles Series 🚀🌌✨
This one is probably closest to my heart. My first project ever [started writing this series 7 years ago], and have a detailed plan for 5 books in total, with more spin-offs for a side character very likely to appear later.
The first book [Transcendence] is finished at 96k words, and the second is written halfway. Transcendence is Star Trek meets House MD adult science fiction. It's a space adventure with aspects of science mixed with philosophical elements and a dash of humor. I have a very found-family-centered theme here with the crew. And a (very) slow-burn romance that would spread over the 5 books.
The story follows eccentric science genius Ashton Axolem as he attempts to take on scientific issues beyond his understanding with the help of Doctor Amelia Harper, who, like everyone else, is convinced mixing madness with science will never result in anything good. But her close encounter with Axolem leaves her questioning her understanding of both madness and goodness.
Will probably be blogging a lot about this one because I've had years to form it in my mind lol
Thanks for reading, that was a bit long! Hopefully, I set up some sort of tag system for all those WIPs soon.
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jubilantmedusa · 2 months ago
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Hi! I just wanted to say that I really like your fics <3 I re-read your latest Zukka one 3 times. Do you plan to write any more soon? What type of ideas do you have? I hope I don't sound pushy I'm just curious!
Aww, so glad you enjoyed it :)
I doesn't take much to get me to talk about ideas and WIPs so here you go!
I'm not sure how soon any of this will get done, just because life is very busy right now (which is the reason I've been focusing on short stuff - I prefer medium/long, but short is more achivable right now; and it is a fun challenge to stick to a word limit).
Actively working on:
Zukka HC Sketch + Fic: I have two other Zukka H/C-ish sketches that I need to write stories for. They should be a little less angsty then the last one, in theory, but still have some H/C element. Waiting for inspiration to strike. (1 - 1.5k each goal). I might do more of these, or I might switch to a non-H/C sketch/fic focus. Or I might stop when those two are done. IDK. Whatever's fun.
Iroh and Zuko Post "The Desert" Whump AU: Zuko and Iroh’s escape from "The Desert" is intercepted by an enemy who quickly surmises that the most effective way to torture Iroh is to torture Zuko. With Iroh literally losing his mind, can Zuko (who is not doing well) save his uncle and himself? (currently at 4k; estimated 12 - 16k)
If I can finish the above by the end of the year I'll be pleased.
Ideas that I really want to do and have at least done *some* pre-writing for:
Iroh's Second Spirit World Journey: An Iroh centric story that diverges after "The Earth King." When Zuko never wakes up from his angst coma, Iroh goes literally beyond the ends of the earth to try to save him (aka - Iroh's second spirit world journey). Could have a sequal (or even be a trilogy, potentially), but not required. I really want to write this but I'm not sure if it would have an audience. Estimate: long, over 25k
Escaping the Desert: Another "The Desert" divergence story - Zuko and Iroh are captured by the Rough Rhinoes. Unfortunately, so is Toph. Zuko will do anything to save his uncle, but what about the strange blind girl who was with the avatar? Estimate 15 - 25k. The problem with this one is it would more or less require a trilogy... but if I can keep all the stories to around 10-15k that may be achievable.
Zukka Iron Lung: There is a plague that only effect firebenders. This spurs the invention of the iron lung -- Sokka is one of the lead engineers. When Sokka goes to the Fire Nation to Save the Day, he catches feelings for the Fire Lord. Unfortunately, Zuko then catches the plague. Length TBD.
Zukka Post Series romance: Zuko was injured/disabled before the finale and never took the throne. Sokka hasn't spoke to him since. He has, however, developed PTSD. With his life seemingly falling apart. Sokka decides to run away and go to university at Ba Sing Se. He stops for tea at the Jasmine Dragon, which is now run by, you guessed it, Zuko. Angst and romance ensures. Bonus airbender field trip. Length TBD.
Ice Demon / Waterbender Hospital - This is something I'm not sure anyone would be interested in except me, but I do like medical whump. I've done some light worldbuilding for a waterbender hospital, and have a vague idea of sending Zuko there when he's attacked by an Ice spirit. For some reason. Maybe involving Aang and his quest to master the avatar state? or maybe not, because that would be a lot of story. Lots of more to develop here. Could be gen or Zukka. Season 3 somewhere. Length TBD.
Fire Demon story - I would love to write a longer form season one AU that shamlessly steals the premise of the excellent short fic Fire Walk by Sholio and makes it into a multi-chapter Zuko joins the gang early story. Length TBD.
Ancedotes: This is an idea for a series of short form slice of life/characters backstory fics (3 - 8k, lets say). So far they'd include - "Old Man " a story that answers the question 'how did Sokka learn about physics?' - coming of age/loss of innocence; "Losing at Pai Sho" a story about teen Iroh learning to not be arrogant; and "First Kiss" - the only idea I've ever had for an Azula story, featuring Ty Lee's first kiss and Azula's first... something else. I have an idea for Toph and Zuko, but not committed to them. Katara story has not come to me. I also wanted to pair these with exercises from The 3 A.M. Epiphany because idk the whim struck and the idea is in my head.
Aside form that, I'd like to write a few whumpy Zuko short stories (3 - 10k) that focus on the gaang relationships I haven't written about as much - friendship fics featuring Katara & Zuko, Aang & Zuko, or Toph & Zuko.
If I am ever to become independently wealthy, I'll write my season 3 AU.
And if I ever feel very, very silly - but still slightly angsty - I'll have Iroh commission a symphony in C.
Thank you so much for the question! I am flattered. It was very nice.
If there's an idea you (or anyone who stumbles across this) especially likes, let me know!
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thisisapaige · 7 months ago
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Tagged by @mercurialkitty. Thanks! This was fun :-)
20 Questions for Writers
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 59
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 645,479
3. What fandoms do you write for? Just Supernatural. I have the brainworms and they are in the shape of Thee One and Only Castiel.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
stay, In Just Saying It, Non Solum, Still Waters Run Deep, Sleeping Together
5. Do you respond to comments? Most of them. I do get kind of overwhelmed (with love and joy) if someone comments on all the chapters as they read, so I'll often reply to their final comment. And if the comments are rude, I ignore them (doesn't happen often, but it has).
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Thee fic that started it all: Empty Spaces. A bold choice for my first posting, lol. At least I wrote a sequel? :-P
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Something Blue. I wrapped that up with a bow. As a commenter wrote, "Holy happy ending, Batman!!!!!"
8. Do you get hate on fics? Mmmmm, not sure I'd call it hate but I did have a commenter who wasn't happy with the direction The Angel went in. Thankfully, they figured out the fic wasn't to their tastes and decided to leave halfway through.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yeah. It's fun to write but, whew, very difficult to edit, lol. As for what kind... somewhat-idealized- romantic-everyone-has-a-good-time-and-feels-their-feelings kind of smut, I think. Most of the time... Murder the World was a lot more angsty.
10. Do you write crossovers? Nah. I don't really have the fic bug for other fandoms.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yup! A couple in Russian and one in Chinese.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. I don't know if I'd be able to. I don't think I'd be a very good partner :-P. I don't even like a beta to look at my stuff 'till the draft is done and I read it though a couple times.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? It's the DeanCas of it all.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? The Path of the Righteous Man (my reverse verse fic) is like, my white whale. I keep going back to it and never adding a single word. The block is strong on that one.
16. What are your writing strengths? Introspection and action. Both are sooooo fun.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue. UGH. Dialogue. How do people talk? Hell if I know.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Sure. My monolingual ass won't, though.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Posted? SPN. Written on loose leaf paper as a tiny child, which has been lost to the ages (thank goodness)? Final Fantasy VII.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? This is a mean, mean question. I cannot chose one! I cannot! So have a selection (answer subject to change in 30 seconds):
stay for being my fix it that allowed me to continue enjoying the show after that fiasco of an ending.
The Angel for being the fantasy epic I always wanted to write.
insi(de an)d outside for being some of my strongest writing.
Still Waters Run Deep for being my first bang and also because I have prints of the art reafre made and that still blows my mind.
Something Blue because it took me on a very personal journey (and also I just posted it so it's fresh in my mind).
I *could* probably post most of my fic, honesty. I like my stuff. I wrote them for me, after all.
Tagging: @angelcasendgame @hornystiel @wormstacheangel @bloodydeanwinchester if you so chose to participate!
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storiesofaot · 19 days ago
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WIP game!! I find it so funny how you name your files, but I love it. So organized.
How about "A Thousand Times Nothing Happened - Zoom" ? It sounds like "A Thousand Times Hange and Levi had Insane Tension But Were Too Emotionally Constipated to Act" and I can always get behind tension.
Thank you so much, @starshower1215 - haha yes, I do my best to keep everything organised 😂
You're actually not too far off! Let me rephrase it a little bit, "A Thousand Times Hange And Levi Acted As Best Friends And That One Time They Had Insane Tension And Didn't" (yours sounded so much cooler, though!).
This oneshot is based on a German song (xD) that randomly came to my attention again, and which I dont even like thaaat much, but my Levihan brain immediately turned the lyrics into an Modern AU fic, oops! Levi and Hange have been friends since they were four years old, and they stayed best friends for the next 24 years until one night changed it all... *dramatic drum roll*
It's going to switch between present time and flashbacks of them growing up together, because that's where the lyrics led me (and I followed). Here's a little snippet from the beginning, with the cursive being the (translated) lyrics of the song:
You just wanted to pass the time in the evening, and since you didn’t want to go alone, you called me. We were only friends and wanted to stay that way, not in a dream I believed something could happen.
Running a shaky hand over his face, Levi sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the soft click of her bathroom door. Saying that this night had taken an unexpected turn was probably the understatement of the year. Actually, no - of the century, or rather, of his entire life. This was what happened when he ended up agreeing to things he didn’t want to do. He should’ve said no, should’ve explained that it had been a long day at the bookstore, that he was tired and only wanted to lie down and read a little before falling asleep.
A little snippet from one of the flashback scenes:
I don’t even know how long we have known each other. Your parents used to go bowling with mine. We stayed at home, you fell asleep in front of the TV. We were like siblings during all those years.
It had all started when Hange moved in with her parents and her older brother at the young age of four, into the house right across the street from where he lived. His mother had insisted on giving her family a little welcome gift and, against his will, had taken him along - his little hand in one of hers and a box of homemade cookies in the other. “If I saw correctly, they have two kids, a girl and a boy. Who knows, maybe you can become friends! Wouldn’t that be great?”
Levi had shaken his head, a deep scowl on his face. He didn’t want a friend; he had his picture books and his mum, what else did he need? The kids at kindergarten were all dumb; they didn’t like playing with him - so why should those two kids be any different?
And the moment things started to shift:
Soon, he was nodding along to whatever she was saying, her words all but lost under the pounding bass, and when she laughed, he found himself smiling too. Because it was Hange, and her laugh always made everything feel a little lighter. But tonight, it stirred something different in him - a strange tingle in his stomach as he watched her look at him, nose crinkling, eyes alight with amusement.
(...)
She squinted a little, as if deciding how to answer his question. Or maybe she was just too drunk and trying to refocus her eyes on him. “I’m trying to read you,” she finally replied. “Something’s different about you tonight, and I wanna know what.”
This story contails probably the most "sensual" writing I have ever done, but it's definitely nothing explicit, the emphasis is more on the emotional connection 😆 And it's also pretty much finished, so I might upload it towards the end of the week! (if everything goes well ha)
Thank you so much for asking, and have a great day/night! 🌙
The WIP tag game 💛
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thevioletninjadraws4 · 5 months ago
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I'M BACK WITH A NEW POST!!
And I bring you a story that's been in works for a couple of months. I was hoping one day to make an Transformers comic and decide to wait until I know little more about it and finish the shows and read some comics. Just to be sure I get the lore more 😊🤔
And now, I think it's finally time to start my first comic/story, my own idea!! (I also post on A03 too so this isn't my first story I'll say. But still! 🤗)
I'll pin this so you all can find each chapter on this and retweet every time a new page is out. Which hopefully be soon! ☺️
But! A quick summary if you want to know a little about it!!
It takes place on Earth, Jetfire, trap in the ice, that is until a young human girl finds him and helps him out of the ice. Jetfire knows little about Earth and how Cybertron has been. No idea that a war is happening. But, with the help of the human name Lyna, they both should be able to find out and he can learn about Earth. And Lyna, can learn about Cybertron. And discover some things about each other too that they did not know how similar humans and Cybertronians really are.
Lyna is a 16 year old Filipino Aroace girl!
This story's age rating is 15+ due to swearing, violence, blood, abuse, and some small comments that could be rude to those who are Aroace. She will have a couple of people who talk shit down to her. (Idk if there's a word for it, I can't find it 😅) But I promise you I will warn you about all those things before the page!! And most of the stuff won't show up until later on!!
Prologue: (Finish!)
Chapter one: (WIP)
(p.s. I start drawing the comic pages and the cover of the comic before I change my style just a bit with their noses so for the prologue it'll be my old style 😖😗 but once chapter one starts it'll change)
Transformers by Hasbro
Comic and Lyna belongs to me!
Art (C) me!
Please do NOT copy, trace, repost, steal my art or use it for Ai! (If you want to repost my art, give me credit, if not credit, I'll tell you to take it down, or add credit.)
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beepersteeper · 6 months ago
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I Will Always Find You -- Astarion x Tav -- There's No Arguing With That | part 6
Astarion and F!Tav live happily together for the remaining years she has, she refuses to be turned into a vampire because her faith says that her soul isn’t finished with its work yet. Tav dies of old age and leaves Astarion to put together the pieces of his broken heart. AN: Lord of Light lore taken and changed to fit the story's means. Not canonically accurate. TLDR story line stuff. This is an AU where Astarion ascends but isn't a power hungry bastard and Tav is able to help him continue healing. Wyll is immortal and the Duke. Karlach in my mind, if given a new engine would be able to live a lot longer than the usual tiefling. Another AN: idk if anyone wants tagged in this WIP but let me know. 
“Well, you look like you finally got some real rest.” Wyll says looking up from the desk.
“I did.” Astarion says fluffing his hair trying to get it to lay where he would like. “When is that meeting with the fists?”
“In about an hour and a half.” Wyll responds while putting papers into different folders for the meeting. “Are you still coming?” he asks to which Astarion nods. “Wonderful, you get to see me in action to see if you want to pass me the torch permanently.” he laughs handing Astarion a folder “This is everything I’m talking about and showing them. Just to keep them in check.”
“You've done great for thirty years, I don't need more convincing. Whenever you're ready, we'll start the process. But in the meantime let's go get under the Flaming Fists skin.” he laughs, turning out the door to get dressed. Once he was in his room he picked out a black and white embroidered suit with thin gold threads lining the seams and details. He threw it on the bed with a complimentary pair of loafers on the footlocker. He made his way to the washroom and preened his hair, adding pomade to keep his curls locked in place, when he was happy with every strand being in place he dabbed his bergamot-perfumed oil on his neck and wrist and turned to retrieve his suit when a knock was rapt on his door, a worker offering him his breakfast. He happily receives it and thanks the man at the door. He greedily drinks the warm red liquid before getting dressed. He smoothed his pants' legs after slipping his shoes on and looked in the mirror. And deciding if this was the suit he wanted to wear. It was. The black one is my favorite, my love. Tav would coo from behind him with her chin rested on his shoulder. It really lets your fair features just glow. He smiled and slipped his arms into the white button-down shirt and buttoned it and tucked the ends into his pants before adding the dark jacket, patting his pocket to check for his pocket rock and tidying himself one more time before leaving the room.
He meets Wyll in the hall by the front door. “It looks like Lord Ancunín is officially back!” Wyll jeers as Astarion turns in an ego-filled circle. “You've always known just when to clean up.”
“300 years of putting on a show.” Astarion flicks his wrist to look at his nails dramatically “It is nice to clean up now and again Wyll, you should really try it sometime.” he laughs at his own joke at Wyll.
“Funny.” Wyll responds, not amused and rolling his eyes. “Are you quite done?”
“Probably not.” Astarion laughs honestly, tucking his folder under his arm “But I am ready to leave.” The two walk out the door.
“I'm glad to hear all of your old snark flitting back to your tongue. As much as it pains me to say I have to admit I missed it.” Wyll groans at his admittance. 
Astarion smiles and shares a knowing look with Wyll “I'm still the same magnificent bastard that I've always been. He's just been buried beneath all of the grief I've been carrying. I am just feeling really good today.” he shrugs.
They make it to the Flaming Fist Headquarters and are seated around a small round table. Wyll is greeted first before the Head Fist notices that Astarion is seated there as well “Lord Ancunín. My apologies, I was unaware that we would be blessed with your presence today.”
“I decided that it was time to return. Just felt like the safety of my beloved city was at risk because of some information I was given in my absence." Astarion sneers at the muscular man standing opposite the table. “Tell me, are my suspicions accurate?”
“No, my lord. The city is as safe as it's ever been.” The man speaks quickly trying to quell any concerns that Astarions holds.
“Is that what your data says?” he turns to ask Wyll to take the lead.
“Not at all.” he feigns shock “Would you care to explain all of these contested arrests?” Wyll speaks in a stern tone handing a folder to the man.  They sit for the better part of 4 hours listening to the man explain arrest after arrest, and in turn, they explain why nearly all of them were done unlawfully. “You had better get your ranks in line, and quickly. It truly would be a shame if the Fist lost what is it…” he pauses for effect stroking his chin as if in deep thought “75% of its funding.”
“Absolutely Duke Ravenguard. You will find that the regime is put back in shape.” the man bows.
“It shouldn't need put back into shape.'' Astarion sighs, loudly placing his hand flat on the table admiring the ruby ring on his finger to seem like he is talking passively to the man. “Be sure that we don't have to have this conversation again.” he looks to Wyll who nods that he is finished with everything he has to say. Astarion waves the man away, his lip raised in disgust. The two see themselves out of the building and walk through town toward the palace.
“We make a pretty good team.” Wyll laughs heartily, shaking Astarion’s hand and pulling him into a half hug.
“That we do.” Astarion responds in kind, feeling a bit of a high from feeling that kind of power again.
“Are you sure you'd want to give that up?” Wyll asks unbuttoning his jacket and vest
“I guess I could see myself keeping some sort of stake in the game, but truly you do so much better than I would, you're diplomatic I just sneer down my nose at them until they give in. My attitude and willingness to bully anyone else in power would always be at your service.” They both laugh at the blatant self-awareness.
“Are you going to see Vira today?” Wyll asks in front of the palace.
“Yes.” Astarion smiles a big dumb grin “But you're not surprised by that.” he states, earning a laugh from his friend. “I'll see you later.” both wave to the other and walk their separate ways.  He walks quickly to the bookstore and walks in, each time feeling more natural than the last, and this time being greeted by Eyman.
“Well look at you, what's the occasion?” Eyman chuckles looking at him from behind the counter.
“I joined the Duke Ravenguard in court today.” Astarion shrugs, starting to unbutton his jacket when Vira turns the corner with a box in her hands. 
She trips over her feet as her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open to say “Well hello, Handsome.” He laughs at her display, catching the lid as it falls from the box.
“Gods above.” she says almost under her breath while setting the box down and putting her hand over her heart. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” He does a quick playful turn for her, causing Eyman to groan like a dad and walk out the front door to “check the mail or something” he said. Astarion reaches for her hand and kisses her knuckles. “You are truly gorgeous.” she coos.
“If this is the reaction dressing like this gets me I just might have to do it more often.” he flirts still holding her hand close to his lips.
“You can't,” she whines playfully “That might very well kill me.” she smiles, leaning her body into his for a hug “Besides something is charming about being surprised by such a wonderful sight, I would hate to get used to this and miss out on thoroughly appreciating the view every time.”
He smiles and hugs her tight before letting her go, but not before she kisses him on his cheek. He blushes and cocks a crooked smile at her before taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair behind the counter.  He chuckles at himself peacocking in such a way, not disappointed by any stretch, just surprised to be enjoying it. When he turns back around he unbuttons his cuffs and begins rolling the sleeves up to his elbows he catches her looking, almost through him. “Everything alright, Darling?” he asks, adding one final fold to his sleeve. “I know that look, you’re a million miles away.”
She shakes her head slightly ridding herself of whatever she was thinking and smiles at him “Just thinking.” She shrugs and walks to meet him by the counter wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his shoulder. “Just taking this all in case something happens, in case this is all just a dream that's too good to be true.” she smiles into his shoulder. “Gods you even smell amazing.” she groans “And here I am looking truly homely.” She motions to her black denim pants and cream ruffle tunic.
He leans himself onto the counter and wraps his arms around her shoulders pulling her tight to his chest holding most of her weight and whispers into her ear, making sure that she can hear him. “First, you are anything but homely. And nothing is going to happen, darling.” he assures “We are both very much here, and very much real.” he rocks her gently from side to side earning little giggles from her. With one hand between her shoulder blades, he slides his other hand on the side of her face, having his red eyes look into her green ones. “Are you sure that's all?” he asks.
“I’m sure,” she pushes her forehead against his and smiles shyly,  “just a bit of deja vu. I’m okay, I promise.”
“Okay,” he whispers, not wanting to push her. He smiles and looks behind her at the front door, making sure Eyman isn't walking in before he kisses her quickly, taking her by surprise. “As long as you're okay. Now what do you need help with?” he asks, moving his hands to her waist, still holding her body against his, to comfort her, he hopes.
“I have quite a few orders to pack, and need to find a place for the whole shipment, a new Introduction to the Weave Wizard Series.” she taps her hand on his chest and steps out of his hands to get into the box she had put on the counter to add “besides daddy is taking the afternoon off in a few, so we’ll have the bookstore to ourselves and I’m in charge.” she laughs bobbing her head from side to side exemplifying her sass.
“For the evening, Vira, don't let that go to your head.” Eyman says walking through the door “And don't go getting Little Star here into any trouble ‘having the bookstore to yourselves’.” he mocks and shakes his head. 
“Ugh Daddy.” she groans “We’re just going to be loading and unloading books, what trouble could we even get into.”
“Just because I’m an old man now, I wasn't always this way.” he laughs “All I’m saying is to be good.” he rolls his eyes and reaches for his jacket from the coat rack by the side door. “Are you staying for a while Astarion?” Eyman looks at him leaning on the counter still.
“I don't have any other plans.” he smirks, playing nonchalantly “As long as Vira wants my company I’ll be here.” he scans his eyes to Vira who is organizing the textbooks and his smirk melts into a smile.
“Then I am sure I'll see you when I get back.” Eyman laughs a belly laugh. He kisses Vira on her cheek and waves to them as he walks out the door. When the door latches Vira starts to walk toward Astarion and he holds up a hand to stop her just as the door opens again and Eyman peaks his head in and flips on the gas for outdoor light “I‘m just tuning this on so you don't have to. You kids have a good night.” They respond in kind and he leaves the door again. 
“How’d you know he would come right back?” she asks, laughing while walking to him with several books in her arms.
“Just kind of felt like he would. To make sure we’re not trying to do any dirty things in his bookstore.” he jokes, raising his eyebrows for effect. Vira groans and rolls her eyes in response pushing the stack of books into his arms and points to an open shelf. He laughs at himself and starts stacking the books where she says “Whatever you say, You are the one in charge.” He rolls his eyes mocking the way she does it.
“And don't you forget that.” she chuckles, prying open two more boxes and moving them next to the shelf to be unloaded.
“I’m positive you wouldn’t let me if I ever did.” he bumps his shoulder into her as she walks back to the counter. He continues to unload the crates.
“You're damn right.” she chuffs "By the way, where's your rock?” she smirks, hoping to have caught him unprepared considering he was more dressed up than usual.
“Inside pocket.” he grins and points toward his jacket. “You’re not going to get me. I've carried that thing for nearly 100 years.” he shakes his head and returns to his work. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her pick up his jacket and finds the rock, sucking her teeth in disappointment. 
Vira brings one more box over and sits on the floor next to the boxes and starts handing him books to place on the shelves. They pass the time with idle chatter between customers eventually filling the shelves and move on to the orders of books to deliver tomorrow morning. Once they finish those orders it is time to close up the shop. Vira flips the sign to closed, locks the door, turns off the front light and closes all the blinds. Astarion flops himself onto a padded chair and picks up a book on the Lord of Light to read. Vira walks over to him moving the book slightly to see the cover. She hums after seeing the title and perches on the arm of the chair reading over his shoulder after blowing out all of the candles except the few around them.
“You can't be comfortable up there.” Astarion chuckles softly and pulls her onto his lap with her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, wrapping his arms around her to continue reading the book. “Have you read this one?” she shakes her head. They read the book together discussing different passages for more than an hour. Vira stops reading after a while and snuggles closer to Astarion pushing her face into the crook of his neck. She places soft kisses on the corner of his jaw before laying her head on his shoulder hugging him around his torso tucking her hands behind his back. “Darling, you’re falling asleep.” she hums a half-hearted response. “Don't you want to go to bed? Or at least get changed?” she groans, pushing her face into his neck. He giggles and rolls his eyes “Whatever you say.” before he closes the book and sets it on the table next to him. He shuffles his body slightly lower on the chair bracing their weight with his legs with his feet firmly planted on the floor. The movement earns a disgruntled groan from Vira. “Oh you’re fine darling.” he sighs. He wraps one arm over her thighs tucking his hand under to keep ahold of her when he ultimately falls asleep too. He rests his head on his free hand and closes his eyes. 
He smiles to himself at that moment. The irony is not lost on him. The night after he was finally willing to sleep in his bed again, he is choosing to rest in an uncomfortable chair, but happily so to be close to her. He feels Vira readjust herself to curl up closer to him. He as if by instinct tightens his hold on her to be sure she doesn't fall and squeezes her thigh 3 times. She sighs and weakly squeezes her hand on his back. Astarion feels her breath on his neck change as she falls asleep and the pattern of her breath lulls him to sleep. 
Astarion’s eyes shoot open when he hears the door handle jingle. He feels his breath getting faster. Sitting cautious he watches the door open slowly, and close again. Eyman. He relaxes again and closes his eyes wishing to still be asleep
“You crazy kids” Eyman whispers to himself looking at them curled up together on one chair. 
“She fell asleep and I didn't have the heart to move.” Astarion responds waving his hand that was holding his head. “What time is it?”
Eyman walks closer to talk still in a whisper “It's well past one.”
Astarion stretches his legs one at a time trying to regain more feeling in the limbs “I'll get her to bed and head home.” readying himself to stand.
“The second door on the right.” Eyman’s smile is clear in the flame's light “You're not going anywhere son, you get some rest too. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Astarion stands holding Vira in his arms walking up the stairs behind Eyman. “I can go home, I'm not worried about the ruffians in this town, I’ve dealt with worse.”
They make it to the top of the steps and Eyman’s face meets his “We have that in common then. I'm not worried about them, I'm worried about you. And you’re not going to risk going home by yourself at this hour. Now stop being so damned modest and get yourselves situated and get some rest.” he says in a stern but careful tone. 
“Yes sir.” Astarion chuckles, “Thanks, Eyman.” He walks into the door sideways to be sure he wouldn't bump any part of her off the door frame. “Goodnight.”
Eyman sets a candle on the desk and walks further down the dark hall. 
Astarion lays Vira on the bed, carefully placing her head on the pillow. He gently tugs her boots off and places them by the door, he unlaces his own and puts them next to hers. He covers her form with a blanket before he situates himself in the desk chair and leans back onto his palm. He hears Eyman whisper-yelling from down the hall. “I know you're not trying to sleep in a bloody chair, Little Star. Lay down and get some rest, you look like you've not slept in days.” 
Astarion sighs and walks over to lay in Vira’s bed and thinks to himself for a moment while he unrolls his sleeves and unbuttons several buttons at the top of his shirt before ultimately lying himself down gently to not wake her up. He lays down tucking his hands under his head and closes his eyes. Before he can fall asleep he feels Vira roll onto her side and drape her arm and knee over his body and sighing contentedly. He slowly moves his hand from under his head and rests it on her back rubbing tender circles making sure she stays asleep. Sleep quickly finds him.
@zoeloveslotr @silverfangmarks @prudent-nerd
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 2 years ago
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Drunk-Dazed and Lust-Crazed
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pairing: demigod!San x fem!reader (mentions of other idols)
genre: fluff, angst, slowburn, demigod!AU, college!AU
warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption (an unhealthy amount), mentions of anxiety and past trauma, suggestive themes, mentions of violence, knives, blood, (not so minor) character death, cursing
Word count: ~13.8k
Summary: San, the son of Dionysus, decides to descend to the human realm and experience the human ways of having fun for the first time in his life. But he experiences much more than that - danger, recklessness, lust… and love.
Author’s note: This fic is part of the Hamartia (Αμαρτία) collab, hosted by @sleepylixie​ and @delicatewerewolfsoul​! Thank you for letting me participate in this amazing collab <3. The header was made by @intokook (original gif by @fixons​). Here’s a mini playlist to get you in the mood of the fic. Another huge thank you to @himbocoups​​ and @bitchlessdino​​ for giving me the necessary push to actually finish this TWO YEAR OLD wip.
taglist: @aliceu​ @heresyourramen​ @iwillgiveyoumyhappiness​​ @choism​​ @flowerwonu​​
This fic does not portray San in real life in any way. This is pure fanfiction.
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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Olympus.
The home of all Greek Gods, the pinnacle of their power and their majestic residence. Among the known and worshipped gods, only a few selected are able to enjoy a life next to them, most of them being demigods, born from the gods themselves.
Choi San is part of the lucky ones.
A demigod born from the God of Wine and Feast, Dionysus himself. He was born in Korea and lived with his human mother until he was five years old - until Dionysus decided to take him to Olympus and raise him as a god.
Of all the sons and daughters he had, San was his father's favorite for numerous reasons. One of them was his otherworldly beauty - chocolate foxy eyes, a jawline sharper than the most finely-crafted swords, broad shoulders leading to a thin waist and well-defined muscles covering the entire expanse of his body. San's beauty was on par with the beauty of the sons and daughters of Aphrodite, if not above. 
But that's not the sole reason.
San had a heart of pure gold. He was kind to everyone, always there to help someone in need, be it physical or psychological. He had a strong sense of justice, standing up for the weak. All these qualities earned him praises from the rulers of Olympus themselves, but San never lost his humble nature and kindness.
However, he had one miniscule flaw. Endless curiosity. And Dionysus has seen countless times how dangerous curiosity can be.
It was another bright day and San was at his usual spot, under the willow tree close to his father's shrine. A flower crown made from pink roses adorned his ashy brown hair. He was laying on the soft grass, twirling one of his white highlights. He loved moments like this, of pure serenity and peace.
But he was slowly getting tired.
He had turned 22 in human age, yet he had never experienced the ways of humans having fun on their birthdays, especially those of his age. Sure, he absolutely loved the feasts his father would prepare - the ambrosia never failed to amaze him, no matter how many times he tasted it.
But deep down, he felt an unexplainable emptiness. 
How is it like to have fun like a human? How is it like to go out and party like a human?
How is it like to live like a human?
These questions have been floating in San's mind for a long time now. He has repeatedly tried to convince his father to let him descend to the human realm, but every time, the answer is the same.
“I cannot allow this, the human realm is full of dangers, you haven't seen the things I have.”
Frankly, he's sick and tired of listening to the same thing over and over again. And he has finally worked up to the needed courage and make his wish come true.
San gets up from his spot and sprints to his father's shrine, hoping he would find him there. As he enters the majestic temple, he is both delighted and terrified to see Dionysus himself sitting in the throne, enjoying a glass of wine.
"Ah, San! What brings you here today, my beloved son?"
"Hello Father" San says as he rubs his hands together, trying to get rid of his anxiety. 
“Is there something troubling you, my son?” Dionysus asks as he descends from his throne and approaches San. "Actually, there is, but I have finally found the courage to speak", he straightens his posture and Dionysus smiles. 
“Go on, boy, I'm all ears.”
San takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to speak. 
“As you know, I became 22 years old a few days ago and you asked me for a special gift, but didn't give you an immediate answer. I gave it a lot of thought and I have made up my mind.”
“What is your wish, my son? Speak and I shall grant it.”
“I want to go to the human realm.”
San immediately feels the atmosphere darken as Dionysus drops his smiley facade and anger is written all over his face. 
“Time and time again we've had this discussion, my answer remains the same. You will not leave Olympus!” Dionysus growls, but San does not yield.
"I would greatly appreciate it if you could give me one good reason to stay here” he grits his teeth. 
“Good reason? Have you gone mad, son? You are living in Olympus, you receive the same treatment as if you were a pure God! What other reason could you possibly need?!”
“I want to know what it's like to live like a human, Father. They are mortal beings, yet they feel like they are immortal, like you. They don't live in the residence of gods and goddesses, but they make it look like they live in paradise. They do not feast and eat ambrosia, but they can party for days as if they are tireless” San explains, holding the stars in his eyes, completely awestruck by the human lifestyle. 
“Oh, San… You're still so young and pure, my son. While your words hold the truth, you must never forget that every light casts an equal shadow. There are humans who have more virtues than some gods, but there are also humans whose evil nature can compare to Hades himself. These people will try to take advantage of the kinder souls and I cannot even imagine the horrors some of them have been through” Dionysus admits and San is slightly disheartened at his father's words. 
“You, my dear San, are one of the purest souls I have ever encountered in the time I've walked upon in all the existing realms of the universe. A trait definitely inherited by your mother, as well as your beauty” he continues as he caresses San's cheek in a very affectionate way. 
“I would be damned if I let you become tainted because of some wretched humans, hence why I took you to Olympus with me.”
“Father, I truly appreciate your worries and I'm beyond thankful for having such a caring father figure. However, I'm not a child anymore. I can handle myself just fine, I've learned how to differentiate people based on their motives. Besides, you have said that I can have everyone in the palm of my hands by just looking at them, right?” San smirks and Dionysus laughs, its echo filling the shrine.
“I guess it cannot be helped anymore. It was bound to happen at some point and apparently, the time is now” he announces and San's eyes double in size.
 “Father, are you saying-”
“Yes my son, you are free to visit the human realm as you see fit.”
San literally jumps out of joy due to the good news and hugs his father. 
“I will be forever grateful to you, Father!” he says with a beaming smile. 
“I am not finished yet, San. You are free to visit the human realm, on one condition: You must not fall in love with a human” Dionysus adds and San is left dumbfounded. 
“Um, I… understand, but why?” he asks out of curiosity again. 
“Only a few selected demigods are allowed to live in Olympus along with the rest of the gods and goddesses, simply because most of us have a lot of offsprings, for better or worse. However, demigods falling in love with humans usually leads to more offsprings, who still have a fragment of divine power, but end up using it in corrupted ways. As a result, these demigods are forever banished from Olympus” Dionysus explains and San feels a chill run down his spine. 
“Worry not, Father. You have my word, my journey in the human realm is purely out of curiosity” he smiles and skips happily out of the shrine.
“If only I could tame the ferocious curiosity you had in you, son. Let's hope it won't get you in trouble.”
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A few months later….
Saturday night, the streets of Gangnam are filled with young people, all of them ready to dance and drink the night away, to their hearts' content. All types of restaurants, bars and clubs are almost full, the owners rubbing their hands, as if they already feel the money flow through their cashier machines. 
Not everyone has the same thing going on in their minds though - some people want to find someone to spend their night with, someone else wants to drink in order to forget a painful experience and others just want to have fun with their friends or significant other. And there are those people who want all of the above. 
San is one of these people.
But there is a basic difference between San and the rest of the world - he is a demigod, which gives him a huge advantage over pretty much everything in talks of tolerance and energy. You could even say he holds an enormous amount of power.
However, the more powerful someone is, the more insatiable they become. Whether it's money, fame, people, the more you get, the more you want. In San's case, it is a bit different - it's living to the complete edge of life itself.
When he first landed on the human realm, it started off quite innocently - it was just a glass of soju with a human boy his age, Wooyoung. This boy had a few more friends and he introduced them to San. Even if he was awkward at first, they quickly made him feel comfortable in the group and San couldn't be any happier. 
He felt like he finally belonged somewhere, with people he met and befriended on his own, not because of his supernatural powers, but of his sheer excitement and warmth. He had managed to make his own friends.
The visits at the soju place became more frequent and more crowded, since it wasn't just San and Wooyoung anymore. But after a while, they started getting bored of it and wanted a change. They were boys in their early twenties, after all, it was expected to seek a new experience.
“Yo, wanna check out the new club that opened at the corner of the street? Heard they got some pretty good booze there” Changbin says while downing a shot of soju. 
“Booze or boobs?” Yeonjun, another boy in the group, snickers and Changbin raises an empty bottle at Yeonjun's head. 
“Why not both? These two are always a good combo” Wooyoung smirks, “Besides, it was about time we did something different, right Sannie?” 
San perks up at Wooyoung's words and he can already feel his blood rush faster through his veins. 
“Damn right I'm in!” he exclaims and the boys laugh, as they raise their glasses and drink once more.
“I’ll get a head start, need to go check the sound equipment - don’t want anything to fuck up in the middle of the night” Changbin downs another shot of soju.
“I’ll join you, Bin” Yeonjun gets up, putting on his coat.
“You know stuff about consoles, Yeonjun?” San asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Nah, he just wants to fuck around and post stories on socials” Changbin snorts.
“Fuck off, Seo, it’s called promotion - Hak will be thanking me” the taller man throws a light punch on the shorter male’s arm, “Anyways, we’ll be off now -  see ya later, darlings” and they disappear from the shop.
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“Yah, San, c'mon dude, let's get going, we're gonna be late!” Wooyoung whines, pulling San by his sleeve in a kinda aggressive manner, as they were walking towards their destination, where Changbin and Yeonjun were waiting for them. 
“Are you sure we'll be able to get into the club? They did say it's very hard to even get inside, let alone book a table…” San trails off and Wooyoung laughs. 
“That is for the commoners, my dear friend, and I assure you, we're not commoners. Besides” he flips his hair dramatically, “The owner's son is a very good friend of ours and a regular at the club on top of that” he winks and San smiles, relieved that they will be able to have fun properly. 
“You must have a lot of connections around here, don't you Woo?” San asks, half impressed by his friend. 
“Hmm well, not really, it's mostly Yeonjun, 'cause he works in a model agency, so it's normal for him to be popular and have lots of connections here and there.”
“Well, yeah, but...” San trails off, “You’re in a dance crew, aren’t you? I mean, you must be pretty popular too”.
Wooyoung chuckles and San raises an eyebrow in question.
“I do have some tricks up my sleeve, Sannie, but I choose to use them wisely”
“Care to elaborate?” San asks and he is startled by some female voices gasping and giggling.
“Oh my God, it’s Wooyoung!”
“He looks so much hotter in person.”
“Ugh, I could pay for all his drinks just to get his attention.” 
“Hey, who’s the hottie with him?”
Wooyoung catches on and sends a wink towards the chattering girls, making them squeal in return. San is stunned by his friend’s action and Wooyoung waves a hand in front of his face. 
“See now? That’s what I meant earlier by tricks up my sleeves.”
The boys finally reach the club and witness an alarmingly long line of people waiting to get in. 
“Um, are you 100% sure you can get us in?” San asks again and Wooyoung rolls his eyes. 
“Watch with your own eyes.” and he goes in front of the security guards, he shows a card and as if on cue, they open the door. San's mouth hangs open in surprise and Wooyoung laughs, waving to him to follow him, completely ignoring the infuriated beeline of people shouting in protest.
As they finally get inside the club, San is greeted by neon lights, loud EDM music playing through the huge speakers and people around his age dancing and drinking mindlessly on the first and second floor of the club. For most people, it would be a cacophony of fun, but to San, it was one of the most exciting things he had ever witnessed in his entire life. 
“Finally, what the fuck took you so long?!” Changbin yells to make himself heard over the noise. 
“Fuck off, Bin, we're here now” Wooyoung sneers, “Hey, Hak, what's up, bro?” he greets the unfamiliar boy. 
“All good, Woo, the usual shit. I see you brought a new friend with you.” the boy says, looking at San with a beaming smile. 
“Hey buddy, I'm Juhaknyeon, but you can call me Haknyeon or just Hak.”
“Nice to meet you, Haknyeon, I'm San.” San greets back the boy.
Is he really the owner's son? He looks way too innocent, San thinks as he studies Haknyeon's face - light brown hair falling on his forehead, pink plush lips, big brown eyes and a beaming smile. If he wasn't human, he could easily be a son of Aphrodite.
“What's your order?” Haknyeon asks San. 
“My order?”
“He means what you're going to drink, dumbass” Yeonjun laughs and San is startled. 
“O-Oh! I'm fine with anything, honestly” he waves his hands in defeat and Wooyoung exchanges a knowing glance with Yeonjun. Changbin looks at them and facepalms, already knowing what is coming up. 
“Oh boy, you did not just say that” he mumbles and San is left dumbfounded.
“Did I say anything wrong?” 
“Depends on how well you handle your liquor” Haknyeon replies. 
“Pretty well, actually” San admits - he's the son of Dionysus after all, but that's a detail he shouldn't share. Wooyoung and Yeonjun snicker almost maliciously at San's words and he raises an eyebrow. 
“We'll see about that, Sannie boy” Wooyoung smirks and yells to the waiter to bring them a round of shots and a bottle of whiskey. 
“Tonight, my friend, is the night you'll get shitfaced and laid.”
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To say that Yeonjun and Wooyoung were surprised would be a total understatement.
They half-believed San when he said he could handle his liquor, but they definitely did not expect this.
“One more!” San yells and the newly swarming crowd around him starts hollering, egging  him on to down another round of tequila shots. Haknyeon was watching in pure amusement, while the original troublemakers were hanging their heads in defeat.
“Which round was that?” Yeonjun asks.
“Dude, I swear I’ve lost count, this motherfucker has no mercy” Wooyoung half-whines, still not able to accept his embarrassing defeat “Even Bin is on the verge of passing out, for fucks sake!”
Of course, San was in his own happy world, drinking to the point of alcohol poisoning, but looking and feeling like woke up from the most refreshing sleep ever. Suddenly, he feels a lithe hand smoothing over his shoulder and he turns around to see one of the girls who were fawning over him and Wooyoung a few hours earlier. 
“Oh hey, I remember you!” San remarks in an enthusiastic manner and the girl gives a sultry smile. 
“Hey cutie, thought it would be a good idea to say hi” she says and trails a manicured nail down his chest, “Wanna talk somewhere more...private?” she tilts her head in a suggestive manner. 
Something clicks in San’s brain, as if a switch was turned on and unleashed a brand new sensation all over his body. 
It was a strange feeling and it was making him feel hot everywhere. 
Lust.
In a split second, he grabs the girl’s wrist and pulls her to the club restroom, the music significantly lower now, drowned in the background. He pushes her on the wall, hands firm on her waist. 
“Is that private enough for you, sweetheart?” San licks his lips and tilts his head towards the girl’s neck, his breath fawning over her skin. 
“Hot and smart, you’re a catch, pretty boy” she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a feverish kiss. He could taste the alcohol on her tongue, but he didn’t care and neither did the girl. They were both too caught up in the moment to care about such things, any hint of rational thinking was gone, replaced by lust and need.
San pulls away momentarily, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. He looks at the girl’s swollen lips, a train of not so innocent thoughts running through his mind. 
“Cat got your tongue, baby?” she asks with a sultry smirk. 
“Hmm not really”, San retorts and twirls one of her hair strands around his pointer finger, “Just thinking about whether I should take you to my house or fuck you right here” he bites the skin between the base of her neck and her shoulder, eliciting a lewd moan from her lips. 
“But then again, a pretty little girl like you doesn’t deserve to be taken in a filthy restroom, am I right?” he asks rhetorically and the girl nods feverishly. He then pulls away and leads her out of the restroom and back to the table, giving her her stuff. 
“Let’s get out of here, shall we, sweetheart?” San smirks and rushes out of the club with the girl, his friends completely forgotten.
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The morning finds San in his familiar bed and shirtless, which is occupied only by him, no sight of the girl he brought over last night. He notices a small note with a lipstick mark on it, something scribbled on it. She probably left her number, he thinks and ignores it. He gets up and goes to the bathroom to freshen up a bit - yes, even demigods need a splash of water to wake up. As he feels the cold water splash on his skin, he lifts his head and looks at his reflection in the mirror. 
“Holy shit…” he mumbles, as he traces his hand over the very visible hickeys on his neck and the expanse of his chest. A cacophony of purple and red blotches covering his pale skin. 
“Damn, was she a vampire or something?” he continues and turns to see his back, covered in red streaks, probably nail scratches. San remembers and a smug smirk spreads on his lips. A string of whimpers, moans and screams, spilling from the girl’s lips, as he drove her over the edge last night, more than once.
What was even more fascinating is that he had zero sexual experience beforehand. Suddenly, he feels like a light bulb just lit up inside his brain.
Since when did I get so confident?
He tries to recall the sequence of the events that occured last night. 
When did it all start? As soon as I entered the club? No, I was too stiff. When I met Hak? Nope, I was kinda awkward at first. Ugh, think San, think-
His trail of thoughts is cut short by the sound of his ringing phone. He goes back to his bedroom and picks it up without a second thought.
“Hello?” 
“CHOI SAN, YOU FUCKING BITCH, WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO LAST NIGHT?!” San winces at Wooyoung’s loud voice echoing through the speaker.
“Dude, it’s 9:30 in the morning, could you not scream into my ear?” he complains and he hears the familiar scoff of his friend. 
“Oh I’m sorry, your Highness, but that’s how I react when my bank account is fucking bleeding because a certain someone decided to drink his entire existence in the club!” Wooyoung snarls angrily and San is hit with a reality check. 
“How much did you guys pay?” he asks, voice laced with guilt. 
“You want the total amount or your share?”
“Option number two, please.”
“....210 bucks.” 
San chokes on thin air at the sound of the amount. 
“Just...how much did I drink last night?!”, he asks, completely mortified. 
“Hmm, let’s see… Definitely a bottle of whiskey, three plain vodka glasses and some rounds of shots. Although I lost count after the seventh one probably,’cause I was pretty much wasted” Wooyoung explains. 
“Oh my God, why the fuck didn’t you stop me?!”
“I dunno bro, you were having the time of your life, even Haknyeon was amused.”
And then it clicked. San’s eyes went wide from the realization.
“Hey Woo?”
“Yes, San?”
“What do you mean by having the time of my life?”
“Which part of the sentence exactly did you not understand?”
“Let me rephrase the question: When did it actually start?”
“Uhhh, around the time you started downing alcohol like it was water? I can’t remember much, but you looked like you could take over the world, man.”
 San feels like he’s about to lose his mind. 
“Woo, I gotta go, talk to you later bro.”
“What the f-” Wooyoung doesn’t get to finish his sentence as San has already hung up.
He rushes to the kitchen and rummages the cupboards, searching for any trace of alcohol. His mind is racing with all the possible scenarios playing out in his head. He manages to find a can of beer and he runs back to the bathroom, the can still in his hand. His eyes drift between the mirror and the can, hesitant to take the next step.
He takes a deep breath to calm down and pops the beer can open. 
“Okay, here goes nothing…” he mutters and gulps down the beer. He slams the empty can on the bathroom counter and he breathes heavily. He looks at his reflection and his eyes are blown wide as he witnesses the hickeys on his body slowly fade away, his smooth skin now back to its original state. San threads his fingers in his silky hair and starts laughing almost like a lunatic. It all made sense now - the surge of confidence, the crazy stamina and now the fading hickeys. 
He isn’t just immune to the effects of alcohol, it makes him stronger.
San is lost in a euphoric daze, he wants to scream, let the whole world know the power he holds. He’s snapped out of it once his phone screen lights up, a message from Changbin in their group chat.
binniebinniechangbinnie: Yo losers, I’m gonna be the dj at Noir Club next Thursday, wanna join???
yeonjun choimbell: DUDE I’M DOWN
San grins evilly and starts typing back.
mountainchoi: Count me in too bro
jungsexywoo: how kind of you to grace us with your presence mr. Choi
jungsexywoo: AFTER HANGING UP ON MY FACE-
mountainchoi: IT WAS AN EMERGENCY, OKAY?
yeonjun choimbell: yeah emergency *snorts*
mukhaknyeon: all good bro? you kinda disappeared last night-
mountainchoi: yeah, thanks for asking and sorry :’)
jungsexywoo: yeah, disappeared to GET HIS DICK WET
jungsexywoo: AND DIDN’T EVEN PAY FOR THE DRINKS
mountainchoi: I’LL MAKE AMENDS, OKAY?
yeonjun choimbell: are you paying for everything on Thursday then-
mountainchoi: yes.
binniebinniechangbinnie: WAIT-
jungsexywoo: FOR REAL????
mukhaknyeon: damn, that’s some real ass flex bro 
jungsexywoo: you better not disappear again or i’ll rip your balls off-
mountainchoi: i swear on the whiskey i drank last night
yeonjun choimbell: OH FUCK HE’S SERIOUS
binniebinniechangbinnie: BRO I’MMA RESERVE THE BEST TABLE FOR YA
mukhaknyeon: We wouldn’t have it any other way ;)
jungsexywoo: OH MY GOD WE’RE GETTING WASTED BITCHES🤪
mountainchoi: damn right we are😏
San closes his phone, a wide Cheshire-like smirk spreading on his lips, his mind already racing with the endless possibilities that could take place on Thursday. 
And boy, he was in for a treat from Fate herself.
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“Come on Y/N, please, just this once!” your best friend Yeji begs, but you still hold your ground. 
“Hwang Yeji, I love you, you’re my best friend, but I will not come to that godforsaken club!” you deadpan and she whines. 
“But whyyy?”
“Because I don’t like clubs and you’re asking me to come with you on a THURSDAY NIGHT” you add, punctuating the last two words by furiously typing on your keyboard. 
“Can you at least pay even the miniscule attention to me or is that essay of yours more important than ME?” Yeji mocks and you glare at her. 
“Of course you’re important to me, but I’m afraid that if I don’t hand in this essay by the end of the next week, I’m doomed” you complain. 
“That’s exactly why I want you to come with me to the club!” she chirps and you grimace. 
“Are you trying to help or bring me closer to my doom?” 
“Oh just shut up and listen to me for once!” she smacks your head and you rub it in a soothing manner.
“You’ve been holed up in your room all this time, trying to keep up with your studies. I admire you for that, don’t get me wrong, but you need to live a little too!” she explains and you’re thrown into overthinking mode. 
“You’re not wrong, but still-”
“Ah ah ah! No buts, you’re coming to the party.” she slams her hand on the table and you flinch. 
“Yeji!”
“Y/F/N Y/L/N, you will come to Noir Club on Thursday night, even if I have to drag you out of your room! Not that I’ll have any problem with that since Giselle is coming too…” and your eyes widen at the mention of your roommate’s name.
 “Giselle is coming with you?!”
“Yes, and so will you”. 
“...Will there be good music at least?” you ask sheepishly and Yeji’s foxy eyes light up. 
“IS THAT A YES?!”
“Answer the question, Yeji.”
“Do you know Seo Changbin from the Arts department?” 
“Yeah, he’s friends with Jisung, why do you ask?” you raise an eyebrow. 
“He will be the DJ of the night” and your eyes perk up. 
“Hmm, interesting” you mumble and Yeji smirks. 
“Oh? Now you’re interested? Bitch, do you have the hots for Bin?!” she nudges your arm playfully and you swat her away. 
“No you idiot, I’m hoping that Jisung might be there too, it will make the party a bit more bearable.”
“Boo you wh-”
“Don’t you dare say it.” you threaten her and she raises her arms in defense. 
“Well, my job here is done, you’re free to continue your pitiful essay, see ya on Thursday night!” she waves cheekily.
“We see each other every day, you dumbass!”, you yell.
“Yeah, but you don’t count as a human with these clothes!” she yells back and you gasp, making her laugh. 
I’ll show you, you minx, just you wait until Thursday, you think.
Thursday night came around and you were contemplating on your outfit, standing completely clueless in front of your open closet. 
“What the fuck does someone wear at a club?!” you whine helplessly and your roommate Giselle peeks her head through your room. 
“Need help?” she asks. 
“Yes please, I’m lost here” you huff in defeat and she skips happily next to you.
“There is one basic rule when it comes to club parties - the flashier, the better” she grins and you grimace. 
“You just said that to a minimalist, Gi.”
“Geez, Y/N, don’t be such a buzzkill. Besides, there must be something in your wardrobe suitable enough for tonight” she adds as she rummages through the hangers. 
“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in there” you mumble and you hear an obnoxious gasp from Giselle. 
“Then what is THIS?!” she squeals as she gazes over a black velvet slip dress, one that you hadn’t worn in a long time. 
“Y/N, this is it, you must wear this!” she hands it over to you and you look at it, smile slowly fading away at the memories coursing through your mind.
It was a gift from him, for your 21st birthday. It was also his last gift.
“I’m sorry Giselle, but I cannot wear this dress” you put it back into the closet.
 “But… why not? It’s the most beautiful dress you have and you look amazing in it” she slightly frowns. 
“That’s exactly why I can’t wear it” you reply and Giselle gives you a sad smile and hugs you softly. 
“I know you miss him, bubs, we all do. But he would never want you to be sad” she states and you wrap your arms around her tight, fully knowing she is right.
He loved seeing you happy, no matter the reason.
“I hate you when you’re all wise and shit” you grunt and she laughs. 
“Now now, we should get ready for the club, the last thing I want is Yeji yelling at me for standing her up” Giselle rolls her eyes playfully and you both scramble to get ready.
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You should have refused.
You knew it was a terrible idea, yet you joined them, in hopes to have fun. The club was booming from the loud music, people of all ages either half-drunk or stupid enough to grind on each other on the dance floor. This was already a waste of time and you couldn’t believe you actually got all dressed up just to see this. The thought of watching Netflix back in your room curled up in your blankets crossed your mind. 
Giselle and Yeji, on the other hand, were having the time of their life - They were on the podium next to Changbin, who was excitedly chatting with them. You could spot a group of boys behind him, probably his group of friends who reserved the best spot - the perks of being the DJ of the night, you thought, as you sipped on your Aperol.
If there’s one thing you were actually enjoying, it was your drink.
Your eyes mindlessly drifted around the club again, only to lock eyes with a boy around your age from the familiar loud group. You swore you could feel the intensity from his piercing gaze on your skin. You break off the eye-contact in a split-second, not wanting to seem obnoxious. You really wanted to get out of here.
Why did I agree to this? Why did I dress like that? I shouldn’t have worn heels, dammit-
“Hey.”
Your trail of thoughts is cut short by a smooth voice behind you and to your dismay, you turn around to see the same boy who was looking at you not a while ago. Although the word ‘boy’ definitely fails to describe him.
Short, black hair slicked back with gel showing his undercut, high cheekbones and a jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds, a crimson crushed velvet suit framing his toned body. He was wearing only a vest under the jacket, no undershirt and you could spot the black swirling ink creeping from his collarbones, seemingly in the shape of roses. He screamed danger, everything about him was a red flag.
“I saw you looking earlier.” he muses and you sip your drink. 
“So were you.”you bite back and he smiles.
“It would be rude of me to ignore a beautiful presence here” 
“Is that what you tell every girl you lay your eyes on?”
“Only the interesting ones.”
“So you admit I’m interesting?”
“You’ll get even more interesting if you tell me your name.”
Damn, was he smooth. 
“Y/N.” you give out your hand and he flashes a sultry smirk. 
“Choi San, delighted to make your acquaintance, Y/N.” he takes your hand and presses a soft kiss on the back, giving you a sly wink. 
“An Aperol? You must be a lightweight” he states.
“Not really, just.... not a fan of heavy alcohol” you deadpan. 
“You don’t look like you’re having fun, unlike your friends over there” and he nods over to Yeji and Giselle who now dance with some of San’s friends.
“They dragged me here, I had no intention of coming… here” you grimace and he chuckles. 
“And what if I told you that I can make your night more interesting?” he asks and you raise an eyebrow to his suggestion. 
“And what could you possibly have in mind?” you ask.
“Let’s go to my house and you’ll see” he whispers suggestively and your murderous instincts come out. You start chuckling, running a hand through your hair and swirling your drink with the other. In a split second, you dropped your happy facade and with that, your Aperol on San’s velvet suit. 
He gasps with a laugh as you storm out of the club, your night completely ruined. He turns towards his friends who are left stunned at what happened. Yeji and Giselle rush to catch up with you, heels clicking on the pavement.
“Y/N, wait! Stop running!” Yeji shouts and you turn around to see your friends panting from running. 
“What happened back there?” Giselle asks, visibly worried. 
“What happened is that I should have stayed home and not come to this fucking hellhole!” you yell. 
“Honey, please calm down-”
“Calm down?! Yeji, are you fucking kidding me?! An entitled asshole just tried to take me back to his house, thinking he was some random hook-up!” 
“Y/N, listen to me-”
“No, I’m sorry, but this is too much. I just… I just want to go home” you choke back a sob. Giselle and Yeji look at each other and they nod. “Are you two onto something here?” you ask sheepishly. 
“Nothing serious, just contemplating what we should eat for take out” Giselle smiles and the three of you laugh. 
“Come on, let’s go home” Yeji says and you walk back home with your friends.
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“Dude, what the fuck was that?!” Wooyoung wheezes and Haknyeon glares at him. 
“Okay, but seriously, San, what happened?” he asks, but his question falls on deaf ears. 
“San?” Changbin waves his hand in front of San’s face, but without effect. 
“Oh God, he’s broken” Yeonjun facepalms. 
“Y/N, huh….” San mutters as his brain replays your eventful meeting. 
“Did you say something, bro?” Changbin asks and the rest of the boys turn their heads to San. 
“That girl… is really something, isn’t she?” he says with an interested smile. 
“Uh, which one? I danced with at least four” Wooyoung snorts. 
“He’s asking about the girl who turned him down, bitch” Haknyeon smacks Wooyoung and he whines, rubbing his head. 
“Oh, you mean Y/N?” Changbin perks up at the mention of your name. 
“You know her?!” San almost leaps on his friend and he’s taken aback. 
“Y-yeah, she’s friends with a friend of mine from university” Changbin says and San’s eyes light up at the opportunity of seeing you again. San looks at Changbin with puppy eyes, practically begging him and it doesn’t take more than 5 seconds to realize his ulterior motive. 
“No.” 
“But why?!” San whines, “This might be the only chance I’ll ever have!”
“I know, but I cannot let you be ridiculed like that again, bro” Changbin deadpans. 
“Ouch” Yeonjun mumbles and San sends him a death glare. 
“What Bin is trying to say is that he doesn’t want to see his friend getting heartbroken” Haknyeon explains. 
“I don’t care.” San blurts out, “I want to see her.”
“Are you sure about this? I mean it’s easy for-” 
“I said I want to see her” he nearly growls and the boys are taken aback. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this determined before, Sannie” Wooyoung pipes up, “I definitely don’t want to miss this” he smiles in a flamboyant way. 
“Just say that you want to see Yeji again” Yeonjun smirks and Wooyoung grimaces to the black-haired model. 
“Ugh, I have classes tomorrow, but I’mma skip ‘cause there’s no way I’ll be able to wake up” Changbin rubs his temples, “So yeah, if you want to see Y/N, you gotta wait a bit, bro.”
“It’s okay Bin, I can wait...Perhaps it’s better that way” San mutters, already anticipating your future meeting.
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Tuesday, 10:30 AM.
“Ugh, finally, this class is over!” Giselle squeals triumphantly and you roll your eyes at her. 
“You love Ancient Greek History so much, don’t you?”
“I don’t hate it, but when it’s a two hour long lecture and I haven’t had a single sip of coffee? No thank you” she laughs. 
“Now that you mention it, wanna stop by the cafeteria?” you ask and Giselle lights up at your suggestion. 
“You are doing me a huge favor right now bestie” she hugs you. 
“I wanna go to the cafeteria too, Jisung sent me a message he’ll be there” you say. 
“Ohhh, so that’s why you want to go… Sneaky bitch” Giselle smirks. 
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t see Jisung that way?! He’s just a friend!” you grimace. 
“Yeah yeah, sure thing, Y/N~” she sing-songs. 
A few minutes later, you push the familiar glass door and you see your friend Jisung sitting on a table on his own, headphones connected to his phone, humming an unfamiliar tune. You and Giselle sit down and he cracks a beaming smile once he sees you. 
“Oh! Hi girls, how you doin’?” Jisung asks happily.
“I’ll be fine once I drink coffee” Giselle groans.
“Don’t mind her, we had a two-hour lecture on Ancient Greek History” you explain. 
“Oof, that’s harsh” Jisung grimaces, “But it’s over now and you can enjoy your break time, right?”
“Couldn’t agree more. By the way, why are you here on your own?” Giselle asks.
“Oh, I’m actually waiting for Changbin, he said he’ll drop by with two of his friends” he replies and you exchange questioning glances with your roommate.
“Do you know them?”
“Nope, I’m as clueless as you are” he pouts, “Anyways, I’m going to the counter, three iced americanos?” and both of you nod in unison. 
As soon as Jisung leaves the table, you turn to Giselle, who tries to read  your expression. 
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” you ask. 
“If you’re thinking about the possibility of Changbin’s hot fuckboy gang showing up, the answer is yes” she smirks. 
“You’re happy?!”, you whisper-yell.
“What if that asshole comes here?!” 
“Y/N, calm down, the chances of him showing up here are miniscule. If anything, he looks like the type to hang around fancy places and the university cafeteria is not one of them. Besides, his other friends weren’t so bad, especially Haknyeon, he’s really cute-”
“You think I’m cute?” an unfamiliar voice asks behind you and you turn around to see a very handsome boy around your age, smiling towards a furiously blushing Giselle. 
“Uh, um, I- yes, I think... you’re... cute… I guess” she fiddles with her hair and the pretty boy cracks a beaming smile. 
“You’re really cute too, Giselle”
“You remember me?!” she squeals and you choke back a laugh. 
“Yes, I do, I actually asked you for your social media” he rubs his neck and Giselle gasps in realization. 
“Oh my God, you’re right! I’m so stupid” she facepalms and Haknyeon laughs.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay! Although I don’t remember meeting your friend back in the club” he turns his attention to you. 
“I… left earlier that night, I wasn’t feeling very well. I’m Y/N, by the way, it’s nice to meet you, Haknyeon” you smile sheepishly and his eyes shoot up at your name. 
“No way! It’s you! You’re the girl that-”
“You guys know each other?” Jisung shows up with the iced americanos, Changbin by his side. 
“We sort of met last Thursday at the club I was DJing for” the black haired male pipes up.
”Aw shit, I wish I could have come, bro” Jisung whines while sipping on his coffee.
“Yeah, me too” you mumble, reviving the sour memories. 
“Why do you say that, Y/N? Didn’t you have fun?” he asks. 
“An asshole wanted to take her back to his house and fuck her like some cheap whore” Giselle spits and Haknyeon and Changbin exchange worried glances, knowing full well that within seconds, the quiet cafeteria will most likely turn into a warzone. 
“Can we please not talk about it? The last thing I want right now is to talk about him” you grit through your teeth. 
“And who might that be?”
You freeze in your spot, the familiar voice sending a chill down your spine - not the pleasant kind. You turn your head towards Changbin and behind him stands your worst nightmare in the face of none other than Choi San himself. He locks eyes with you and you swore you saw a strange glint flash momentarily. Giselle was shocked, frozen next to you, Haknyeon and Changbin having regret written all over their faces. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in and you pick up your bag, rushing out of the door without a word, leaving everyone behind completely baffled. 
“Y/N!” you hear San’s voice call to you and you speed up, not wanting to face him, but to your dismay, he’s fast enough to catch up to you and grab your wrist. 
“What the hell do you want from me?!” you yell and pull back your wrist aggressively. 
“I just want to talk to you! Is that so bad?” he retorts and you scoff. 
"What could I possibly have in common to discuss with the likes of you?" you spit with a venomous tone and San is taken aback by your aggressive tone.
He takes a step closer and pulls you, his breath fanning over your cheeks, too close for comfort. 
"You know nothing about me, so you better not make assumptions about me, sweetheart" and he punctuates the pet name, making your breath hitch. He notices and smirks smugly as he lets you go. 
"For someone who hates people like me, you get way too bothered when I call you that, don't you now, Y/N"
"Of course I get bothered when a scum like you calls me what Yun- calls me that" you correct mid-sentence and San raises a questioning eyebrow, but lets it slide for now. 
“Whatever makes your boat float, love. I just wanted to apologize to you and perhaps start over" he admits and you scoff.
"Yeah, in your dreams, asshole"
"My name is San"
"I don't fucking care" you spit and leave San behind, heading to your dorm. Fate really had a peculiar way of playing with you. 
"San!" Changbin calls his friend, huffing in the meantime. 
"Did you talk to her?"
"Does calling me an asshole count?" San mutters in defeat and Changbin frowns. 
"Is it that bad?"
"Yep. And it doesn't seem like getting any better" he runs his hand through his hair. A chuckle escapes Changbin’s lips and San glares towards his friend. 
“What’s so funny?”
“You said you wanted to get under Y/N’s skin, but so far, it’s the other way around. And you seem to like it, loverboy”
“Shut the fuck up, Bin. And don’t call me loverboy!”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re so not in love with her.” 
San sends a death glare to his friend and walks back to the cafeteria without a word, leaving Changbin behind, who was rolling his eyes.
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Tuesday, 11:00 PM.
You were beyond tired - physically and mentally. The lectures ended around 4 and as soon as you finished, you headed straight to the library and then back to your shared apartment. You had zero energy to deal with anything and anyone - especially after your encounter with San at the cafeteria.
“Could you at least explain what the hell happened back there?” Giselle asks and you try to find the right words to tell her as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. 
“Remember the guy who followed me after I left the cafeteria?”
“Short black undercut, black v-neck sweater, rose tattoos on his collarbones? Yes, I most certainly do” she replies in full detail and you roll your eyes. 
“That was him”
“Him?”
“The guy who hit on me at the club last Thursday”
“WHAT?!” Giselle squeals from surprise.
“Welcome on planet Earth, enjoy your stay” you mock and she smacks your arm. 
“Okay damn, now I understand why you fled like that”
“Yeah, I still feel horrible about that” you mumble, “I ran without saying a word and left everyone behind thanks to that asshole”
“Handsome asshole-”
“Giselle!”
“Hey, he might be an asshole, but he’s drop dead hot, okay?” she retorts and you groan. 
“Anyways, why was he here?” your roommate asks and you huff. 
“Apparently, he wanted to apologize for his behaviour back in the club and he subtly hinted that he wants a second chance” you explain. 
“Okay, maybe he’s not a complete asshole-”
“He called me sweetheart.”
“Oh no, that’s code red”
“Exactly.”
A few seconds of silence pass and Giselle sits up, facing you. 
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to give him a second chance?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it!” 
“Exactly, because there’s no way I’m wasting my time with someone like him” you state with certainty. 
“Well, it’s your decision and I respect it. But don’t you dare come to me when you fall for San” she warns. 
“Not happening!” you yell back.
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“Thanks for staying tonight Woo” San says to his friend as he brings a blanket and a pillow, placing them on the couch. 
“Don’t even mention it, it’s the least I could do after not keeping my promise to be your wingman” Wooyoung admits with a hint of guilt. 
“Even if you did, I don’t think the situation would have turned out any better” San frowns and his friend’s eyes widen. He then skips to the kitchen, rummaging the cupboards for a few seconds and he returns with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. 
“Really now?”
“Did you really think you would tell me what happened without drinking alcohol?” Wooyoung deadpans. 
“Bro, we’re wearing sweats.”
“Your point being, Sannie?”
“I hate you, Wooyoung”
“I love you too. Now start talking” Wooyoung snickers as he pours the whiskey into the glasses and hands the one to San, clinking them in the process. 
A couple of glasses and an empty whiskey bottle later, Wooyoung is left utterly dumbfounded, still trying to process San’s story. 
“To summarize, you’re telling me that you went to the campus, found Y/N, you tried to apologize and she shut you down?”
“Yep” San replies, punctuating the ‘p’. 
“Damn bro, you are in for a ride with this one”
“I didn’t expect that either, to be honest. But it won’t be long before she falls for me” San takes a sip from his glass. 
“I wouldn’t be so sure, dude. Don’t take this the wrong way, but from what you told me and from Changbin’s info, dear Y/N is not your local fuck-of-the-night girl. Hell, she’s even a History major or something” Wooyoung throws his hands in the air from frustration, all while San is completely frozen in his spot. 
“A history major?”
“Oh please, don’t ask for details, I have half a brain right now” Wooyoung whines, “Can we just… go to sleep for now?”
“Sounds like a good idea”, San agrees.
“Goodnight, San.”
“Goodnight, Wooyoung.”
Later that night.....
Your skin was flushed, a thin layer of sweat covering your body,  his lips creating a symphony of red and purple patterns, a blank canvas now slowly turning into his favorite masterpiece. Your whimpers and airy moans sound like Apollo’s music, if not better. Your hands search for his own, eyes seething with a mixture of lust and need. His name is rolling from your lips like a prayer. 
“San…”
“...San, buddy, wake up! San!”
San lurches forward, drenched in sweat and panting heavily, eyes blown wide. 
“Dude, are you okay?!” Wooyoung puts his hands on San’s shoulders. 
“W-water…” San mutters and the other male runs to the kitchen, returning with a glass full of water a few seconds later. San grabs the glass and downs it in one go, gasping loudly. 
“Was it a nightmare?” Wooyoung asks. 
“N-Not exactly…”, San mutters, “I saw her, Woo.” 
“Her?”
A few seconds of silence pass and Wooyoung realizes who San is referring to.
“You dreamt of Y/N?”
“Yes, I fucking did!” San whines and runs his hands through his black hair anxiously. 
“Bro, calm down, it was just a dream!”
“No, I can’t fucking calm down Woo! This was not supposed to happen!”
“San, you just saw a dream about a girl you l-”
“Don’t you dare complete the sentence” San threatens with a raised finger. 
“Or what? You’ll punish me?” Wooyoung taunts. 
“Now is not the time for jokes,Woo”, San grits and his friend scoffs. 
“Why are you suddenly acting like this? A few days ago you were all puppy eyes to Bin in order to see Y/N again and now you’re in denial? Just admit you’ve fallen in love with her!”
San falls on his knees as the realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he can hear his father’s words echoing in his head.
“Do not fall in love with a human, or else you’ll be banished from Olympus forever.”
“No no no no no no!” he yells, gradually losing his temper, “This should have never happened to me!”
“What do you mean?! It happens to anyone, you idiot, you’re not special!”, Wooyoung yells back. 
“I am special and a human like you could never understand!” San snaps and the two-toned haired male is taken aback by his words.
“What the fuck did you say, Choi San?” he narrows his eyes towards San. 
“No, you motherfucker, you don’t get to be a self-entitled bitch, thinking you’re some sort of god and we’re suddenly lower than you!” Wooyoung growls.
“And what if I am?” San raises a partially mocking eyebrow. 
“What?”
“You heard me, Jung Wooyoung”
“Are you actually saying that you’re...a god?”
“Well, a demigod to be exact-”
“Cut the bullshit, are you drunk or something?!” Wooyoung yells in disbelief
“I cannot get drunk, even if I wanted to” San replies, “You should have noticed that by now.”
Wooyoung looks at San completely baffled, as he tries to understand whether his friend has gone insane or he’s actually telling the truth. However, he can’t help but think back to all the times they went out for drinks with the rest of the boys and every single time, San was the only fully sober one, despite drinking a dangerous amount of alcohol. 
“No, it can’t be… There has to be a logical explanation!” Wooyoung gasps and San goes to the kitchen and brings back a knife and a small bottle of what seems to look like vodka. 
“If the times we went out drinking doesn’t convince you, then this will.” He takes the knife in his hand and creates a cut on his left palm, blood starting to gush from the freshly opened wound. 
“San, are you insane?! Stop-”
“Watch.”
San opens the small vodka bottle and gulps it down instantly. Wooyoung watches as the bleeding cut on his friend’s palm completely heals in front of his eyes and the skin looks as good as new. He stumbles backwards in sheer horror, not being able to fully comprehend the situation at hand. 
“What kind of fucked up sorcery is this…?” he breathes heavily, “What are you?”
San takes a deep breath before explaining everything. 
“I’m a demigod, my father is the God of Wine and Feast, Dionysus and my mother is hu-”
“Get to the fucking point” Wooyoung grits his teeth and San continues. 
“Alcohol is the source of my power - healing, enhanced senses, all of that.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you say anything, you asshole?!” Wooyoung yells. 
“I was fucking scared! Did you really think I could just waltz into someone’s life and be like ‘Hi my name is San and I’m a demigod’ as if it was the most normal thing in the world?!” the black-haired man yells back, “You would have run away in the blink of an eye!”
“No you asshole, I would never do that!”
“How can you be so sure about that?!”
“BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS DO! THEY TRUST EACH OTHER!”
“But.. you are my friend, Woo”
“Am I, San? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like that’s the case any more” Wooyoung picks up his hoodie and throws it over his head haphazardly, picking up his stuff in a hurry, his hand on the doorknob. 
“I don’t intend on snitching you to the rest of the guys… But you better sort out your shit before it’s too late, San.”
And with that, he closes the door behind him, a deafening silence engulfing the living room. A single tear falls on San’s cheek and another one follows.
What have I done?
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Wednesday, 6:00 PM.
It has been three weeks since San and Wooyoung had their fight and to San's dismay, it had affected the rest of the boys as well. They had grown distant over the days, with the exception of Haknyeon actually trying to patch up things between the two, even if he didn't know the real reason behind their argument. Yeonjun was too caught up in his own business, his schedule fully packed with photoshoots and Changbin had to catch up with his own classes.
Hence why San is sitting alone in the diner, a bowl of ramen in front of him long abandoned. The last few weeks had been rough on him and it was quite visible on his appearance - his hair covering his forehead, not in the usual slicked back style, a pair of black sweats and a grey hoodie, his outfit being a sheer contrast to his usual style. His eyes had visible bags due to the lack of sleep - partially because of you constantly appearing in his dreams, whether you were just there or underneath him.
As if on cue, he hears the door jingle open and his attention is momentarily on you entering the diner alone, a couple of thick books on your right arm. He couldn't help but stare at you, even your slightly disheveled hair due to the chilly breeze looking prettier than Aphrodite's hair. You place the books on an empty table with a soft thud and sit down, waiting for a waiter to take your order, as you open the books to start your assignments. San hears the short conversation between the waiter and you, his mind wandering, completely missing your surprised look when you spot him across your table. He subconsciously turns his head when he finally meets your frozen gaze and he's left stunned as well. Instinctively, he throws a pair of dollars on the table and rushes out of the diner. 
"Hey, wait!" you yell at him but your plea falls on deaf ears, as San runs on the pavement, making a sharp turn to cross the road ahead. He doesn't even look at the sideways and steps on the road, completely ignoring the incoming truck. Despite the constant honking of the truck driver, San is lost in his own world, not paying attention to the traffic ahead. You watch as the truck inches closer and closer to San in front of your eyes and the painful memories of your boyfriend's death cross your mind. 
No, not again!, your brain screams and in the blink of an eye, your body lurches forward, pulling San back at the last minute and you stumble back on the pavement, your back flat on the ground and San on top of you. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize he’s laying on top of you, your face morphed in a scowl, due to pain and fear. He looks at you with wide eyes and gets up immediately, helping you get up as well. 
“Are you o- Ow!” and he’s cut off by a sharp punch on his chest - your punch, specifically. 
“Are you fucking insane?! What the hell was that for?! You could have been dead by now!” you scream at him, a stray tear running down your cheek out of frustration. 
“I… I.. don’t know…” San admits breathlessly and you drag him back into the diner, away from the slowly forming crowd around you.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re still sitting at the same table with a very much silent San, who is drenched in cold sweat, mostly because this is the closest and most civil encounter the two of you have had so far. You break the awkward silence by exhaling and straightening your posture, as you close your books and divert your attention to the black-haired male in front of you. 
"Genuinely asking: What the fuck was that?" you deadpan and San looks at you with wide eyes. 
"You mean almost getting hit by a truck? 'Cause I most certainly don't know what the fuck was that either" he lets out a nervous laugh. 
"I'm talking about you storming out of the diner as if you saw a ghost"
"Oh, that. Um…" he scratches the back of his neck. 
"Are you stalking me, Choi San?"
"What? No!"
"Then why did you run?"
"Because I got scared!" he blurts out and a hint of red appears on his ears. 
"May I ask why you got scared?" you lean forward. 
"Oh I don't know, maybe because every time we meet, you're on my fucking throat?" he retorts with a braver tone. 
"Oh really? And whose fault is that? Because last time I checked, I wasn't the one who behaved like an asshole!"
"I told you again, I'm sorry about that night! Is it so hard for you to give me a second chance?!" San's tone coming off a bit more pleading than he intended, "Unless…"
"Unless what?" you glare at him.
“Unless you have a boyfriend.”
Oh boy.
You feel your chest tighten, but your pride is better than that and you carry on the conversation. 
"What makes you think I have a boyfriend?"
"I didn't dwell on it much last time, but the way you reacted when I called you sweetheart and how your tongue almost slipped out his name is pretty much enough to explain the situation" San explains, his expression remaining the same. 
“I can’t believe I’m actually discussing this with you” you scoff. 
“And what exactly did you want us to discuss, Y/N?”
“For starters, a ‘thank you’ would be very much appreciated” you sneer. 
“Thank you for saving me, Y/N” San replies dryly, “I’m still wondering about one thing though - if you say you don’t want to be associated with someone like me, why did you save me in the first place?” he adds. 
That previous feeling returns in your chest stronger than before.
“I saved you because I have basic human conscience! I may dislike you, but I would never let you die. Besides, there are people who would actually miss you if you were to die” you state. 
“Then why did you cry when you pulled me back?”
Well shit.
“I… It was out of frustration, obviously! It’s not like I see people running in the middle of the road, about to get hit by a damn truck!” you blurt out, hoping to convince San. 
“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, Y/N, I just want to know the reason why you saved me. And I have a feeling you aren’t telling me the truth right now” he retorts. You clench your jaw and it doesn’t go unnoticed by San. A shaky breath escapes from your lips and you try to calm yourself down. 
“If it’s something you cannot tell me, I respect that. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable” he admits with guilt. 
“God, why are you like this?” you huff in annoyance and San tilts his head sideways. 
“What do you mean ‘like this’?”
“Why are you so goddamn honest?”
“I don’t see the reason in lying anyways” San says, his words leaving a bitter aftertaste, as he remembers Wooyoung’s words during their fight. 
“I guess it can’t be helped, huh” you sigh in defeat and take a deep breath before speaking up.
“A while ago you said that I probably have a boyfriend, correct?”
“Yes, I did” 
“Well, that was partially true”
“Partially?”
“Yeah, because he’s still my boyfriend, in a way… Just...not here anymore” you rub your knuckles nervously. It takes San a few seconds to realize the true meaning behind your words and his gaze darkens in a sorrowful way. He makes a move to take your hand in his, in an attempt to comfort you, but as his fingertips brush over your soft skin, an array of images flash before his own eyes, a film of your own memories. 
A tall boy, with pastel blue hair and a smile as bright as the Sun, pulling you by your hand, as you run across a beach, the two of you riding his bike on the streets of Itaewon, eating ice cream together and him giving you your birthday present, a beautiful black velvet dress.
The same dress you wore when you met each other that night.
San felt an unfamiliar, painful sting in his chest, as if Artemis had pierced his heart with one of her golden arrows. 
He was jealous. And he hated it.
"What was his name?" he asks, choking back a sob and you look at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 
"Jeong Yunho" the name of your late boyfriend leaving a bittersweet taste on your lips. 
God, even his name has a sweet ring to it, San thinks and he retracts his hand out of shame. 
"He was on his way to the campus, he woke up late and he was trying to get to class on time. He had taken his bike and he was pedalling through the road. He was always a very careful one, always checking the traffic lights and incoming vehicles. But that one time, that one fucking time - he didn't check. And he got hit by a truck" you sob while unfolding the story in front of San. 
"He was already dead when they brought him to the hospital, he was barely recognizable" you add, tears freely running down your cheeks, your voice now trembling. 
"Do you understand now why I saved you, San?" you ask him and he can't bring himself to form a suitable answer, the words dying in his throat. Instead, he lets his own tears speak as well. 
"I'm sorry, I have to go" you blurt as you wipe your tears with the back of your hand and pick up your stuff in a haste, leaving the diner and San behind. He drops his head between his hands and he notices the book on the table, the same one you were reading before the incident. Shoot, she must have forgotten it when she picked up her stuff. His curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the book, his eyes shooting up in surprise at the contents of the book. 
"Ancient Greek History and Myths?" he says and runs through the pages, carefully reading all your side notes and comments on each page. 
"Damn, she's so fucking smart...Why is she so smart?!" he whines in defeat. Even if he had a clear advantage on the field as a demigod who lived his entire life next to the Olympians themselves, he couldn't help but admire your passion and knowledge on the subject. 
"You really are testing me, aren't you?" San nods to the sky through the window of the diner, most likely picturing his father watching over him with a half amused, half worried smile on his face.
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You return to your shared apartment in a pitiful state, eyes red and puffy from crying, your entire body aching from running all the way back home from the diner. You try to wipe them, smoothing over your hair and clothes and making yourself look presentable, not wanting to worry Giselle.
You click the door open and see your roommate laugh with a cute guy on the couch - Haknyeon, to be exact.
"Hey, stop it! You're too fun- Oh, hey Y/N, you're home!" she jumps from the couch and pulls you in a hug. 
"Hey, Gi, hi Haknyeon" you show a tight-lipped smile. She pulls back and studies your face for a few seconds. 
"Baby, is everything okay? You look exhausted."
"Don't worry, I'm okay, just beat up my brain too much" you laugh nervously, but you don't seem to have convinced Giselle. 
"I think I should get going, it's getting kinda late" Haknyeon clears his throat and smiles towards you, noticing the mood change. 
"Wanna walk you down the entrance?" Giselle pouts and the boy laughs, kissing her cheek. 
"No need, honey. Goodnight ladies, I'll see you around" and he waves goodbye, closing the door behind him.
"And now it's you and me" Giselle turns around and looks at you sternly, "You better start talking before I make you"
"...Didn't hide it well, did I?" you admit with guilt and plop down on the couch in defeat. 
"Nope, you're too honest to lie about your mood, Y/N" she smiles softly while rubbing your arm soothingly. 
“I saw San today.”
"What?!" her eyes go wide with shock. 
"He just happened to be at the same place I was studying! He was so shocked when he saw me and he literally ran away" you explain. Your mind goes back to the moment you pulled him away from the road and your hand starts trembling. 
"Y/N? What is going on, why are you trembling? You're scaring me" she holds your hands in hers. Your pent up emotions break free and so do the sobs from your mouth.
"H-He almost got hit by a truck today and I saved him at the last minute. I-I don't know what got into me, I saw him running and it, it…"
"Yes?"
"It was Yunho all over again, Gi. It felt like a deja vu"
"Oh, sweetheart…" Giselle wraps her arms around you and you cling onto her for dear life. Your phone rings abruptly and you see an unfamiliar number calling you. 
“I don’t want to pick it up”, you say. 
“Why not? It could be Yeji calling, her phone could have died from low battery” your roommate replies and you end up picking up the call.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi, Y/N. It’s San”
“San? How did you find my number?” you ask and Giselle’s ears perk up. 
“I-I got it from Changbin weeks ago”
“You- Nevermind. What is it?”
“Um, you forgot your book on the table when you were picking up your stuff" he says and you rummage through your bag, noticing that your book was indeed missing. 
“Shit, you’re right” you admit, slapping your forehead. 
“I can bring it to you if you want to”
“Uh, um… Can you come tomorrow at 11 AM at the university cafeteria and meet me there?” you ask, trying to push Giselle away, who has been glued to your head for the past minutes. 
“Sure, I’ll be there” San replies. 
“Hey, Y/N?” 
“Yes?”
“Thank you” he says softly and your breath hitches. 
“Good night, San” and you end the call, letting out the breath you were holding.
 “What did he say? Where did he find your number? Are you meeting?! Tell me tell me tell meeeee” Giselle bombards you with questions. 
“I won’t tell you anything until you calm down!” you chastise her. 
“He has my history book, which I fucking forgot, he found my number through Changbin and he’s coming tomorrow at the campus to give me said book” you explain in one go and Giselle gasps.
“Oh my God, a date!”
“SHUT UP, GI!”, you start chasing her around the house, your voices drowning out any other sound.
Sounds, like Haknyeon’s footsteps skipping down the stairs.
“God, please forgive my actions, it’s all for a good cause, I swear” he mutters under his breath, “Make this work and I swear I won’t touch alcohol for the next three months” he prays as he exits the dorm.
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Thursday, 11:00 AM.
You check your watch for the time as you wait for San to appear, anxiously bouncing your leg under the table. “Where are you, Choi San…”, you mutter, mindlessly checking your phone. As if on cue, the front door bell jingles, and San comes inside, holding your book in his arms. He spots you and walks over to your table. 
“Hi”
“Hey there. Wanna sit down?” you nod to the seat across you and San slides into the chair. 
“Um, here’s your book” he awkwardly pushes the book to your side. 
“Thanks a lot, you’re a lifesaver” you smile. 
“I could say the same thing for you” San jokes and you snort, his lips twitching in a smile, his attempt to break the ice ending up successful.
“Wow, I actually made you smile, huh” he comments and you look at him with an unreadable expression. 
“Wow, you’re actually not a total asshole, huh” you cross your arms in front of your chest with a smirk. 
“Touché” he fakes a gasp and you laugh. 
“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me about that night?”
“Perhaps. I mean, look, I’ve already saved your life and we’re actually talking without being at each other’s throats” you state and San scoffs lightly, “For real though, if someone saw us, they would either boo us or clown us until we die.”
“Not that you can actually die…” you whisper under your breath. 
“Hm? Did you say something?” San asks you. 
“Oh, I said that Giselle will definitely clown me until I die” you chuckle nervously. 
“Oh, you mean your roommate?” 
“Yeah, her lovingly annoying ass” you roll your eyes. 
“Better not say that in front of Hak, though” San runs his hand through his silky black hair. 
“If you’re trying to say that Haknyeon likes Giselle, there’s no need, because he-”
“He was at your dorm last night?” he completes your sentence. 
“Yeah. Wait, how do you know that?” you raise your eyebrow in question. 
“Uh, we um.... talked before he left his house” he lies awkwardly.
“Oh okay, that makes sense”
You hear a tapping noise close to your head and see Jisung outside of the window, signalling you to come out. 
"Shoot!" you exclaim, as if you just remembered something very important. San looks at your friend, his gut slightly churning. 
"Sorry, San, I gotta go" you say apologetically. 
"No, no! It's okay, don't apologize!" he says with a forced smile. 
"Thanks, San" you smile back and run towards the door. 
"Hey, Y/N!" he calls to you one last time,
"What is it?"
"9:30 PM, Dejà Vu bar, on Saturday!" he says and you look at him with a grin.
 "See you then!" you shout back.
You exit the cafeteria and greet Jisung with a hug and set off together. 
“Hey, what was that?” he asks you and points towards the table you were sitting with San. 
“What are you talking about?” you ask him innocently. 
“Oh come on, Y/N, don’t play dumb with me. I saw you talking with him!” Jisung scoffs, his hands resting on his waist. 
“I was just talking with him, Ji, nothing dangerous….maybe arranging a meet-up with him…” you trail off, lowering your voice and trying to hide your beaming smile.
To your dismay, Jisung heard your entire sentence.
“Excuse me? What did you say? Come again?” he squints his eyes at you, raising his eyebrow simultaneously. 
“Uhh, I said I was just nothing-”
“Not that part, Y/N” he deadpans and you feel cold sweat run down your neck.
 “Okay, fine, I have a date with San on Saturday night!” you blurt out and Jisung scrunches his face in disgust. 
“You..have a date with San…on Saturday night” he repeats. 
“Yep” you confirm, popping the last letter. 
“With the same guy who literally wanted to fuck you at first sight”
“He apologised numerous times!”
“He’s still an asshole, Y/N!”
“I thought so too at first, but he might not be as bad as I thought” you admit, reminiscing about your past encounters with San. 
“I…I just hope you know what you’re doing, Y/N. I don’t want you to get hurt”
Jisung slightly puffs his cheeks, rubbing his neck awkwardly. 
“Thank you, Jisung. I really appreciate you caring about me” you smile softly at him and pull him in a hug. 
“Of course I do, you dumbass. That’s what friends do” he mumbles back, giggling in his embrace. 
“Come on, we have a class to attend”
“...Can we not?” Jisung grins in anticipation.
“Jisung” you deadpan.
“Ugh, fine, you buzzkill” he groans in response, the both of you sprinting towards the class, hoping you wouldn’t be late.
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Saturday, 9:00 PM.
You alternate between your closet and the bathroom every two minutes, bringing your hair stylers and makeup supplies, trying to match the hairstyle you want with the makeup. It has been quite a while since the last time you went on a date and you can already feel the panic reach the logical hemisphere of your brain.
“Can you please calm down? It’s just a date!” Yeji crosses her arms in slight annoyance. 
“It’s not just a date, Yeji. It’s my first date in ages!” you yell back from the bathroom, trying to blend your eyeshadow as evenly as you can. 
“She’s right, Yeji. Please show some sympathy” she seemingly coos and you mentally thank her for taking your side. 
“After all,  Y/N just wants to make a good impression on her crush!” she snickers like a demon. 
“You’re lucky I want to look good, or else I would have stabbed you in the eye with this!” you peek your head from the bathroom door, holding the eyeshadow brush in a threatening manner. 
“You’re awfully jittery tonight though, you really need to calm down” Giselle comments in a serious tone, “I don’t think San will feel comfortable if you’re tense”. 
“...You’re right, Gi, but I just can’t help it!” you huff nervously, coming out of the bathroom, your makeup now blended to perfection. 
“How do I look?” you ask, waiting for a positive answer. 
“You look absolutely stunning, Y/N. Lowkey jealous I’m not going on a date without you” Yeji pouts.
“Aww, she’s jealous~” you sing-song and she swats your arm playfully. 
“Okay, but, do I make curls or straighten my hair? Which is best?” you ask again.
“Some light curls would be nice. Here, I’ll help you with them” Yeji volunteers, taking the hair styler in her hands, twirling her finger around and you turn her back to her, throwing your hair back. 
“Thank you.” 
“For what, honey?”
“Everything, Yeji. Helping me, tolerating me” you admit, the warmth of the newly curled hair strands.
“Stop blabbering you idiot, we’re friends, of course we’d help you!” she playfully chastises you and you feel a sudden warmth engulfing your heart, a small smile spreading on your red tinted lips.
“Once again, Yeji is right. We’d help you at any time, Y/N. I even gave you my dress for tonight!” Giselle points out at the burgundy sequined dress, which fits you like a glove, hugging all of your curves perfectly. 
“Speaking of which, are you sure it’s a good idea to wear this?” you mumble and she frowns.
“Well duh? Girl, you look bomb! Besides, he’s gonna love it on ya” she winks and you roll your eyes. You check your watch and gasp once you see that you can’t stall any longer, otherwise you risk standing up San - not the ideal head start.
“Fuck, I gotta go, I’ll be late!” you pick up your stuff in a haste, bidding your friends farewell in a rush, closing the door behind you.
“I really hope they’ll get together in the future” Giselle comments.
“Ditto” Yeji agrees with a nod.
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San is adding the finishing touches on his outfit, draping the black oversized blazer on his shoulders, smoothing over a few hair strands that seem a little bit out of place. Picking up his keys and his wallet, he walks out of his apartment, his feet light as a feather, feeling giddy like a school boy.
It feels like a fever dream, going out with you on an actual date - But it’s real and he couldn’t be happier. He’s walking towards his destination with a newfound excitement. He can’t help but imagine how pretty you would look - not that you aren’t naturally pretty, obviously.
His carefree moments stop abruptly when he hears a bunch of whistles directed at him by a suspicious looking group of men, steadily walking towards him.
“Look at this guy, walking all high and mighty” one of the men - most likely the leader of the gang - “Where are you off to, pretty boy?”
“None of your business” San spits back and carries on, but two of the guys block his way and he falls on them.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, kid” the man towers over San and he punches him in the guts from behind, stumbling forward as the other two men land harsh punches on his face and chest, knocking him down on the concrete.
San manages to land a kick on the leader’s shins and make him lose his balance, yet it’s futile, because one of his lackeys pulls out a switchblade, stabbing him in the abdomen twice, without mercy in a heated moment, streams of blood flowing from his newfound wounds. San is screaming in pain, clutching his stomach to stop the blood flow, but to no avail.
“Shit, let’s get the fuck out of here!” the men yell and make a run for their money, leaving the young demigod laying on the forming pool of his own blood.
“F-Fuck…” San groans in pain, barely able to move. He can’t even muster the strength to yell for help, let alone move to a nearby shop to ask for help.
Suddenly, his phone rings and he struggles to pull it out of his pocket, his fingers leaving blood stains on the screen as he manages to read Wooyoung’s contact name and number and accept the incoming call.
“W-Woo-”
“Hey San - What’s wrong? Are you okay?” the man on the other end of the line worriedly asks.
“I g-got stabbed…On the way to D-Deja Vu bar, fuck” San barely replies
“Stay fucking put, San, don’t move!” Wooyoung screams on the other end of the line, “Where are you exactly?!”
“The alleyway…next to the apartment block I live in”
“Fuck…Try to call an ambulance until I get there, just stay the fuck alive, Choi!” he hangs up and San cries out in pain, dragging his fingertips on the screen to call an ambulance.
“Gods, please don’t give up on me yet.”
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Saturday, 10:15 pm.
You’ve officially been stood up by San. 
You’re angry as fuck, cold as fuck and feel stupid as fuck because you actually believed he would show up and you would have an actual date with him.
"I'm such a fucking idiot" you huff in annoyance, as you close your phone, your tenth call to San remaining unanswered, along with a bunch of your messages. You turn on your heel to walk towards the dorms when your phone rings again and you slide your finger across the screen to accept the call without checking who it is, purely out of frustration.
"Choi San, I swear to fucking God-"
"Y/N? Is that you?" 
You suddenly realize that it isn't San calling - It's Wooyoung.
"Wooyoung? What- What's up?"
"Fuck, how do I say this…"
"With your own words, for starters" you retort with an annoyed tone, your arms crossed in front of your chest.
"Shit, now's not the time for jokes, Y/N - I'm with San-"
"Oh really? You better tell him to fuck off-"
"He got stabbed."
Your blood runs cold when you hear Wooyoung say those exact words, eyes widening in fear.
"What…did you say?"
"He was on his way to the bar to meet up with you…And he got attacked by some strangers and they stabbed him, probably tried to rob him and he resisted….Fuck, Y/N, he was calling your fucking name when the ambulance took him" the man nearly sobs from the other end of the line.
"Where…Where are you now?" you thread your hand in your hair, pulling at the roots out of frustration and anxiety, tears starting to form on your eyes.
"The National University Hospital."
"Stay where you are, Wooyoung, I'm coming over." you end the call and search through for a taxi number, calling it and hoping they will get here fast - But nobody picks up.
"Fuck!" you yell and slam your phone in your bag, feeling utterly helpless.
"I'll just fucking run there, damnit" you curse and take off your heels, clutching them in your hand as you start running like a crazy woman on the street, the passersby people looking at you in shock. But you don't give a shit about it.
You lost someone once - but you won't lose anyone else, ever again.
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moreespressoformydepresso · 9 months ago
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Guess who continues to make themself cry with their own ideas? This gal :)
This idea has been in the drafts for a long time and because @crazycriter was interested I’ve finally decided to finish this behemoth of a post and the sequel in my drafts I’m debating on posting as well. I hope this lives up to your expectations in ways my big fic likely will not when I (hopefully) post it somewhere next week 💜
A few months ago I made a biiigggg AU post starring Lamina and Treech, and in most of them they’re siblings because family angst and all that. But them being in a romantic relationship opens up whole new doors!! So lets talk about one of my 25th Hunger Games AU’s, and I’ll expand on another one like I said I would in that past post. This will not be random AU blurbs like the past post, this will be a pretty detailed plot synopsis because I may write this if there’s enough interest. Only after I’ve both posted the big one-shot and finished The Losing Battle We Won’t Stop Fighting, because I try to limit myself to actively working on 3 WIP’s and I’ve got one lined up to fill one of those two spots already. With that out of the way, let’s go! :)
Basic concept:
So I had two main ideas for an alternate first quarter quell. The one that’s relevant for today’s barrage of my madness is the AU where the tributes are picked from the families of the victors, to show that even the strongest cannot protect their loved ones from the Capitol’s might (and monstrousness). Well, how about we change that from being unable to protect their loved ones, to being unable to protect their lovers. The only exception is if said lover is also a previous victor, because the 75th games was the first time they broke the promise that victors wouldn’t have to go into the arena again. To truly hammer in the message, the victors won’t be mentoring this year. Instead, the gamemakers are going back to the original system where the top performing academy students mentor the tributes in the hopes of winning a monetary prize. Previous victors are not allowed to even see their lovers, let alone talk to them. As for what kind of tributes will fight in the games this year… Pretty much all the victors stay far away from love the first few years after their victory, because the deep sea of trauma that comes with watching 23 kids die in the span of days and knowing that you’re only alive because of their horrific fates isn’t very conducive to building a healthy relationship. Therefore, the people now eligible to be picked as tributes are all pretty far into adulthood, the wives and husbands of the victors of the first few games, mostly.
The part where LumberKids/LumberLove/Lameech/Treemina becomes relevant:
District seven has only had one female victor so far, which is Lamina, and she and Treech were in a relationship before she was reaped. If there are any gay victors, they don’t have a boyfriend anyone knows of. Her talking about him in her interview and her mentor sending people to district seven to interview Treech during the games are a big part as to why she won, since it gained her a whole bunch of sponsors. They’re both well-known and beloved in the capitol, and the fact that the people love their love story so much is the only reason Lamina wasn’t forced into the more… unsavory side effects that come with being a victor (side eyes Finnick Odair I think it’s pretty clear age isn’t a dealbreaker for them). Because of this, Treech is the only possible male tribute for the Quarter Quell, and due to the before mentioned usual mental health break from dating he’s also the only minor who becomes a tribute. The person closest to him in age is over 25, and due to him being from the poorer area (headcanon) of one of the poorer districts (canon), he’s also the least well-fed. He doesn’t live with Lamina, and despite her offering he refuses most of the benefits her victory gave her because he’d rather give it to his family. All the other tributes are living with their partners, and thus healthier than Treech is. Their brains and bodies are fully developed and they’ve got a lot more life experience than he does, so all the odds are against him here.
The reaping is a sombre affair, because for a brief moment the district rejoiced at not having to send in their kids for once. It’s still horrible, but even the girlfriends/wives that are now gonna have to fight to the death are okay with it because at least they had a good run on earth and, for one year, their daughters are safe. But then they remember that there’s only one boy who qualifies for the reaping, and the mood sours instantly. All the other districts get to send in adults, but they’re still gonna lose a child. It’s not fair. There are still two bowls, and after the oldest woman (roughly in her forties) volunteers, the escort tries her damnest to be cheery as she swirls her hand in the bowl for the guys. It’s almost like she’s trying to prolong the inevitable, because there’s only one piece of paper lying innocently at the bottom and there’s only one person standing on the right side of the podium. It’s impossible for her to not feel any sympathy when the only sound filling the square is Lamina’s muffled sobs. After she finally reads out the name, Treech steps forward, far past the initial horror. Reality hasn’t quite crashed down on him yet, but the claws have been sunk into his soul for long enough that he’s dissociated.
He looks like he does during the reaping in the movie, but while the escort gives out her little speech tears do shimmer in his eyes. More due to Lamina’s obvious distress and his inability to console her than the fact that he’s probably going to die. He feels… numb, on that front. It doesn’t quite feel real. When the escort takes the hands of the tributes to raise them in the air, Treech stares blankly for a second before wiping the tears from his face and raising his chin high because he knows how the games work. Again, Lamina won partially due to the sponsors he helped her get. If there’s anything he learned from watching her games it’s that if you want to win, you have to be interesting. If you’re not, people will only bet on your odds of winning, and those are decidedly not in Treech’s favor. Especially since his age is going to be a stigma that’ll make people hesitant to bet on him. No matter how skilled he is, the simple fact that he’s so young will hang over his head. He’ll have to twist the odds he does have control over to balance it out. The one advantage he has is that he’s the only tribute that the capitol already knows and cares about, and they really like him. He’s a capitol favorite, despite seemingly having very low chances of surviving even the first day in the arena, let alone actually winning.
For the opening ceremony, the district 7 stylists lean into the nature aspect of their industry rather than their produce. The female tribute, who I’ll call Ascaia, wears a long dress made of colorful leaves and flowers. She gets a flower crown as well. Treech, on the other hand, has a less flashy outfit. Green pants and a green, sleeveless top that look like they’re made of leaves. His arms are covered with what looks like vines, and his outfit has subtle golden elements to give it a little pop. On his head is a golden laurel wreath, a symbol of triumph and victory. Two nature spirits, one bold and wild, the other calm and peaceful. They catch attention immediately, and after the ceremony they’re introduced to their mentors.
Treech’s mentor ends up being Pliny “Pup” Harrington, who somehow met and befriended Lamina during one of her visits to the capitol, though Treech had never met him before. Pup pulled some strings to switch assigned tributes with another mentor so he could give his friend’s boyfriend the best help he could possibly get. Not that the other student minded switching, given how disastrous everyone perceives Treech’s chances to be. Pup tries not to get too attached, but they end up becoming close friends by the time the week is up. Aside from Pup passing messages between the two lovebirds, they discuss strategy both in the game and out of it. Pup’s dad has clout because of his position in the navy, and Pup is fully using that to his advantage. People jump at the chance of getting in his good graces, so quite a few sponsors warm up to the idea of supporting him, although most are still on the fence. They may be swayed by the training scores, and that’s where it gets a little difficult. Treech has to decide how to approach these scores, and he has to decide carefully. On one hand, he can play fully into the “underdog destined to die soon” act that he cannot escape no matter what he does by getting a score around 2 to 4, but that risks putting off the sponsors who don’t want to invest in tributes that have no chance of making it. Or he could lean into getting sponsors by getting a high score and risk putting a massive target on his back, which is a horrible idea because his whole strategy is to play the long game. Stay hidden, away from fights, and sneak around. Prepare to use the deteriorated state of the last remaining tributes to his advantage at the end of the games. It’s a lot harder to stay out of danger when people are actively hunting you down. Especially because a lot of the other tributes could body Treech no problem when it comes to raw physical strength. So, he and Pup decide to go with the middle option and aim for a mid score. Not low enough to turn off sponsors but not high enough to really stand out. I’m not sure at what point training was implemented, but for the sake of the story I’m gonna say there was a massive technological development in the 15 years between the 10th and 25th hunger games so training is pretty much just like in the 74th and 75th games.
During training, Treech spends most of his time at the survival stations. He’s already good at climbing and fire-starting because he’s from district seven, but the rest is mostly new. Most tributes gravitate towards the weapons stations, but Treech ignores them in the interest of remaining as far under the radar as possible. The second and third day the weapons stations are empty enough for Treech to use them in short bursts, mostly the knives (at Pup’s suggestion, since they’re very common and versatile). He deliberately flubs the ax station, balancing it so that he’s good enough to be believable (since he is from the lumber district) but bad enough to not be considered a threat. The private session comes, and Treech needs to choose one skill to show the gamemakers. It’s a tough choice between the edibles, axes, and climbing, but since he doesn’t wanna risk straining his muscles too much he goes with edibles. They saw him climb plenty during the open training sessions, as it was his way of not losing his muscle strength without showing all his cards to the other tributes. It lands him a solid 6, showing sponsors he’s not hopeless without being outstanding enough that other tributes will pay more attention to him.
Lastly, it’s time for the interview. The only real advantage Treech has is that, again, the capitol already knows him. They loved Lamina, in part because they loved her relationship with him. He was central to her story and instrumental to her victory, and the Capitol adores him for it. And Treech milks it for all it’s worth. Most of his interview is spent talking about his life back in district seven after Lamina’s return, and his short stories about their hijinks with their friends leaves everyone aw’ing. He makes sure to also build up his own personality, sharing things about him that aren’t necessarily connected to Lamina so he comes off more genuine instead of making this sound like a shallow attempt at profiting from his girlfriend’s victory. So he’ll mention carving wooden figurines for her and shows everyone a small wooden box he made in the capitol as a gift to his stylist, to both reinforce his love for his girlfriend and showcase his individuality. It works, because Lamina won the 23d games (at 15. Treech is 16-17 during the 25th games) so he’s got a lot of room to work with. Their story happened recently enough that it’s still fresh in everyone’s mind, but long enough ago that it’s mostly smoldering coals for Treech to reignite without it feeling like a rehash of this sick reality show’s previous ‘plotlines’.
Treech manages to successfully recapture the hearts of the capitol citizens, and he becomes a favorite to win. Now he’s done all he can with his time in the capitol, and he’s a few hours away from going into the arena. Pup informs him that all the victors have to watch from back home, set on the stage so the entire district can see their reactions to their lovers fighting for their lives. In response, Treech carves Lamina one last figurine. A heart laid on a bed of dahlias and roses, symbolizing eternal love. From the top of one of the arches of the heart, a small bouquet of hyacints and poppies cascaded slightly over the edge. Hyacinths represent sorrow and regret, but also forgiveness, whereas poppies symbolize remembrance. The message was clear: “Our love is eternal. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together, please forgive me for leaving you so soon. I love you.”
Just before Treech is taken to the arena, he gives the figurine to Pup and asks him to give it to his girlfriend for him. Pup agrees to give it to Lamina, but only if Treech promises he’ll do whatever it takes to be the one leaving that arena alive. Not just for Lamina, or for Treech’s family and friends back home, but for Pup as well. Treech promises to do what he can, and they both know he can’t do much more than that. They hug one last time, and then Treech is escorted to the arena.
Will he keep his promise? Will he live? Will he die in the first 30 seconds? Will he go insane? I know, but if you want me to write this as an actual story I’ll keep some details to myself :D
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