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pitchsidestories · 11 days

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love me like you hate me II Millie Bright x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2215

a/n: thanks to the anon who requested this, we hope you all enjoy it. 😌

It almost felt like your first day of school.

Nervousness mixed with excitement in the pit of your stomach.

Joining Chelsea was a brand-new start for you. You had spend the majority of your life in Lyon, going through all of Olympiques youth teams. So transferring to a new club in a different country felt like a huge step but Sonia Bompastor, your former coach at Lyon, had wanted you in her new team and you knew that you could trust her judgement.

That’s why you were now taking your first steps on Chelseas training ground, ready to join your coach and your new teammates.

Sonia gave you an encouraging smile before she turned to her players. “Bonjour, girls. Before we begin, I want to introduce someone to you. This is our new player, y/n.“, she said in her heavily accented English.

You waved nervously at the others: “Salut.“

At least there were some familiar faces smiling back at you.

Sonia continued: “We worked together in Lyon. She is already very experienced for her age and she will play Centre back. We brought her in to ‘ave more competition at this position, especially with Millie.“

“Excuse me, what?!”, a tall, blonde woman said incredulously. Millie, you assumed.

Sonia shrugged: “That is football, Millie. It will ‘elp you improve.“

“Oh, wow. But I’m the captain. I…“, she started, seemingly unsure how to express her anger.

“Someone’s scared.“, Lucy teased. She was one of the few people you already knew from her time at Lyon, back when you had just joined the senior team.

Millie rolled her eyes at her teammate: “I’m not scared of a child.“

“I’m not a child. I’m 22.“, you protested, studying the older woman that you would have to compete with. Your heart sank a bit. She was a European champion, a regular starting player for her club and country and while you had your fair share of trophies, contending for the same position with her would be no easy task.

Millie gave you an unimpressed look: “You’re barely out of girlhood, you still got a lot to learn. Welcome to Chelsea, this will be very different to Lyon.“ There was an icy edge to her voice as she said the last part.

Hushed whispers passed between the other players.

“I’m sure you two will get along well.“, Sonia said but you weren’t sure if she was being naively positive or if it was just irony. It didn’t matter. Millies behaviour towards you had already made your blood boil and you refused to let her have the last word in this.

As the team slowly started to disperse for their warm-up, you caught up with the blonde defender: “Good luck, Millie. I won’t make this easy for you.“

She barely even looked at you when she replied cooly: “Don’t worry. I won’t either.“

Before you were able to answer Catarina Macário wrapped her arms around you for a tight hug. “Y/n, good to have you back in the team.”, the American beamed at you. Back in Lyon you two were good friends likely because of the small age difference between you both. Also, it was her who helped you with improving your English skills. Admittedly, it felt good to see her again especially after the frosty exchange you had with your new captain.

“I can’t wait to play with you again.”, you told her excitedly.

“Very good decision from Sonia to get you.”, she grinned.

“She was very convincing during her phone calls. And to honest I needed a change of scenery.”, you confessed with a crooked smile on your lips.

“Did you get tired of getting tackled by Wendie during training?”, Catarina teased you amused.

“Yes.”, you nodded chuckling while you received another pad on the shoulder from a familiar face.

“Missed us kid?”, Lucy asked winking.

“Of course I did.”, you responded in an honest tone.

The older defender looked at you more closely before she confirmed. “Me too.”

A few days had passed since your introduction, the team has flown to the US for a preseason tour and the first stop was New York. On the way to the hotel Millie sat down next to Lucy. From the bus windows they could see the famous skyline of the city, but the Chelsea captain didn’t had eyes for that, she felt the urge to talk to her England teammate about you.

“Why are you so nice to y/n, she’s so arrogant, Lucy.”, the blonde huffed.

“No, she’s sweet.”, Lucy disagreed smiling.

“Not with me, have you seen how she attacks me in training?”, the younger defender countered frustrated.

“It’s not that bad, Millie.”, the dark-haired player assured her smirking.

” When we were young, we wouldn’t have dared to play like that with older players in our team.”, Millie shook her head.

“Well times are changing. And I like that aggressiveness.”, the older woman reminded her.

“Of course you do. God, I just hate her so much.”, she groaned. Much too late Millie realized that you had heard her last words. Immediately when the bus stopped in front of your hotel you were the first to leave it.

“Looks like you have something to fix, skipper.”, Lucy observed.

“Shit, I obviously didn’t mean hate just that she frustrates me so much.”, the Chelsea captain mumbled biting her lip guiltily.

“Tell her that not me.”, her England teammate replied sounding serious.

“Cat our captain hates me.”, you whispered in your friend’s ear, sitting on your suitcases in the huge lobby while waiting for your room keys.

“Millie doesn’t hate anyone.”, Catarina objected gently.

“But you heard her.”

“She clearly didn’t mean it.”, she gave a smile of encouragement.

“How do you know? She seems to like everyone except me.”, you helplessly ran the hand through your hair.

“I know her.”, the American said firmly.

You left it at that, even though you didn’t fully believe your former Lyon teammate. Especially when the days in the US were exactly like the ones back at London, with Millie mostly ignoring you and you trying to prove her wrong in every training.

You were surprised when she finally acknowledged your existence just a day later. It was only the two of you in the hotel room you had to share when Millie suddenly decided: “Y/n, we have to talk.“

“About what?”, you asked, unsure about the direction in which this conversation would be going.

The older defender crossed her arms in front of her chest, her face with an unreadable expression. “About what you’ve heard.“

“Cat says you didn’t mean it but I think it sounded like you did.“, you said, keeping a watchful eye on her from your bed.

She huffed out a breath: “Let’s just say I phrased it wrong, okay? I don’t hate you, I hate the way you act in training.“

“But I’m just challenging you.“, you frowned at her.

“You’re risking injuries.“, Millie said plainly, the clear accusation hidden in the neutrality of her voice. You could tell she was straining to keep a normal conversation.

You shook your head: “No, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know what I’m doing…“

Millie scoffed: “You’re still a child. You don’t have a clue about what you are doing.“

You rolled your eyes. Of course she would play the age card again. You just wanted this talk to end.

“I’m 22. That’s ‘ardly a child.“

“Listen, all I’m saying is that one day you’re going to injure someone like that.“

“Millie, I won more Champions League titles than you so I’m not as inexperienced as you think.“, you explained, voice tinged with slight annoyance.

“Oh, you mean the titles you won from the bench?”, she retorted.

“No, I actually played.“

“Not in the finals.“

“So you did watch our games?”, you asked before you could decide to throw some French swear words at her.

“No.“

“Not even after Sonia was announced as the new coach?”

“No.“

“I see.“, you nodded slowly, not sure what you actually saw apart from Millies indifference.

“So can we agree that you take it down a notch in training?”

“Yes.“, you agreed begrudgingly. “If you stop thinking I’m still a child.“

From your point of view, that was all that had to be said. The conversation was over. You got up from the bed and pulled your Chelsea shirt over your head, ready to switch into your pyjamas. It was only when you stripped of your sweatpants as well that you noticed Millies gaze on you.

“Stop staring, Captain Bright.“, you laughed through the awkwardness.

She didn’t look away, she also didn’t smile. “Why don’t you get dressed somewhere else?”

“Why don’t you turn around to look at the wall? At least you got proof that I’m not a kid anymore.”, you suggested with a cheeky grin on your face.

“Guess I do. But why do I’ve to turn around? There’s a bathroom right here.”, Millie commented.

“Boring plus it ruins the fantasy.”, you added still smiling.

“What are you even talking about?”, the blonde asked confused.

“Oh, please.”, you kept teasing her for her prude Englishness.

“You French girls are so weird.”, she claimed mildly amused by your behaviour.

“Yeah, but your eyes seemed to like it.”, you smirked.

“Are you done now? I’d like to sleep?”, the older defender changed quickly to a safer topic.

“Good night, Millie.”, you muttered while switching off the light.

“Night, y/n.”, Millie sounded almost half asleep. She hasn’t stopped thinking about your abs, but she would never admit that to you somehow, they followed her into her sweet dreams.

In training you couldn’t stop yourself from mocking your captain, still there was a more loving undertone in the way you talked to her now that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”, Millie tried to shrug it off.

“Whatever? The young won over the old and you don’t care?”, you pretended to be scandalized by her seemingly unbothered reaction.

Soon, you’d regret your cheekiness as the captain swept you off your feet to carry you to the ice bathtub and let you fall right into the cold.

“Ah, no!”, you yelled.

“That’s what you get for making fun of team old.”, the English woman explained, biting back a smile.

At dinner Lucy elbowed her teammate playfully. “You’re starting to like her too, Millie.”

“Oh, shut up.”, she pushed her friends arm away from her, her cheeks had turned slightly pink.

“No, it’s true you use every opportunity to touch her like.”, Guro intervened giggling.

“Like what?”, Millie interrupted the Norwegian forward impatiently.

“Like you’re into her.”, Lucy remarked, rolling her eyes at the cluelessness of her England teammate.

“I’m not.”, she protested.

“If you say so..”, Guro responded humoured.

“You don’t believe me.”, Millie sighed dramatically.

“Not a word.”, Erin affirmed.

“It’s pretty obvious.”, Lucy added.

“You know what they say about hatred and love.”, the Norwegian started laughing.

“Stop being annoying.”, the blonde begged her friend.

“I’m just saying.”, Guro threw an innocent smile at her.

“Maybe I don’t hate her anymore.”, Millie acknowledged quietly, hoping that they didn’t hear that confession.

“We know.”, Lucy declared annoyed.

You shook your head to yourself. You had watched from the table across from Millies friend group and couldn’t believe that they really thought you wouldn’t notice that they talked about you.

Patiently, you waited until the end of dinner and when everyone got up, you walked over to Millie.

With a smirk on your lips, you whispered into her ear: “Love me like you hate me then.“

The older defender paused and stared at you, dumbfounded.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean? I…“

You bit back a smile and prompted her to continue: “You?”

Millie caught herself quickly and rolled her eyes: “I wouldn’t go that far to say that I love you.“

“Oh, there’s no need to rush this but would you go on a date with me, captain?”, you continued flirting with her.

She blinked at you, apparently unsure if you meant it or not.

“A date?“, she echoed. “Like a real, honest-to-god date?”

You nodded confidently: “Oui.“

“Why?” She still studied you with narrowed eyes as if she could see right through you this way.

“Why not?”, you shrugged nonchalantly.

It was clearly not the answer Millie was waiting for. Still, she only said: “Okay.“

Now it was on you to look surprised: “So it’s a yes?”

Millies face softened into a smile: “Yes.“

Excitedly, you got onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to her cheek: “After our next test game?”

“Saturday then.“,, Millie agreed with a single nod.

“I can’t wait.“, you smiled at her.

Millie watched you with a fondness that she hadn’t allowed herself to show up until now. And you had to admit, it looked good on her.

Going on a date with you on that Sunday the older woman realized that it was easy to hate you for your arrogance, the way you played without compromises, your stubbornness but it turned out to be even easier to love you for your passion of the game, the way you took a real interest in her stories and your smile which lit up the whole dim lit restaurant you were eating at.

#millie bright #millie bright x reader #millie bright imagine #woso x reader #engwnt #lionesses #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #chelsea fcw #chelsea women #woso community #woso oneshot #catarina macario #lucy bronze

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nickmarini · 2 months

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Hi! Welcome to Tumblr! I'm really really enjoying your performance on Downfall: every interaction you have with Ashley absolutely breaks my heart, and it's glorious. ☀️ Here's hoping to see you in more live play TTRPGs in the future!

I'm curious, inasmuch as you can/want to say on here, about Ayden's relationship with the Dawnfather? SILAHA, Trist, Emhira, and Asha all seem to think of their divine aspects as one and the same with their mortal avatars, but though Ayden will sometimes speak as though he is Pelor, the vision in the hospital suggests that he's perhaps more like Pelor's champion or son than an incarnation of him. What inspired you to create this relationship, and how does it affect Ayden's relationship with the other avatars?

Thank you so much! I really appreciate the support! Ashley is so incredible, getting to tie our characters together was so rewarding and helped so much to ground myself! I hope to be able to have a longer convo about all this at some point, because I have thought about it a ton. For now I will say that the sun rises anew each morning and brings with it hope for the new day. Ayden is both brand new and ever constant, the young aspect of an ancient whole. A lot of who he is has to do with why he was sent, yes for the mission of the gods, but also to help his sister who needs him now more than ever, and when the Goddess of Hope begins to fade, it is the only the New Dawn that can bring the return of the light and hope to her.

#critical role #critical role downfall #dawnfather #ayden #cr: downfall #the everlight #everlight #the dawnfather #cr spoilers

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 months

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I have never seen anything like this house. Notice that there are no windows. That is b/c the entire home is covered in bullet-proof Lexan. And, that's not all- every surface inside is also Lexan- the walls, furniture, you name it. Everything is bulletproof. Built in 1953 in Maumee, OH, it has 3bds, 2ba, asking $399,900. It looks brand new inside, I don't think it's ever really been lived in. You have to see this.

It's a nice piece of property- 5.08 acres of it, surrounded by $100K worth of fencing and it also has $300K of concrete, so it's a bargain already.

Here's an idea of the layout. Our tour will begin with the entrance - by the red carpet.

I don't know what this is. Maybe it's a rear entrance.

Here we are in the entrance hall. The red carpet is out to welcome guests to your bulletproof lair. Geez, it's awfully bright in here. They chose the lightest Lexan color- notice how shiny the walls are? Lexan.

Even with the model, I still can't find my way around. I don't see a living room, but this is the first room, with a wall of bulletproof closets and matching desk. There's an exercycle in here for some reason.

I don't know, is it a desk? Looks like they have rubber mats protecting the floors. Now, why would you put wood doors in a bulletproof house?

This is your combination kitchen/exercise room.

Nice, shiny Lexan cabinetry. The fridge looks like a 50s model.

Weird little door there. They've got wood beams on the ceiling for a rustic touch.

This is exercise equipment, right? Weird place for a clock.

Bench w/a neon light. This house has some strange features.

Very large pantry.

Bulletproof shower door. Why is it open at the top? Stop playin.'

Laundry room has a little desk in the corner.

Clearly, those machines aren't bulletproof.

Here's your bedroom with the bulletproof bed, nightstands and storage. But, you can still easily be shot. That mattress is so high, you'd be an easy target.

Who cares about the walls, when the bed makes you a sitting duck? This house is dumb.

Anyway, here's your bulletproof closet/dressing room. I hate when my lingerie has bullet holes.

Now on the toilet, you're only partially hidden. Come on, man.

I don't know, a primary bedroom?

I thought that the real estate description had a lot of nerve saying that it could be demolished and the buyer could rebuild. Now, I'm beginning to think that might be a good idea.

The property has a nice water feature.

Over 5 acres is a lot of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1360-Old-Trail-Rd-Maumee-OH-43537/34722959_zpid/

#bulletproof house #unusual homes #unique homes #Lexan homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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hoseoksluna · 3 months

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SMOKE, i. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. bangtan)

genre: angst

word count: 6.8k

summary: everything that begins also ends.

pinterest board: smoke / taglist: join

warnings: suicide ideation, yoongi has deep feelings that he hasn't felt in a long time, sexual innuendos, yoongi has brief dirty thoughts, alcohol consumption, talks of alcohol, social anxiety and feelings of anxiety in general, jungkook has mint hair, covid and the pandemic, talking to a dead loved one, jealousy, envy, anger, crying, yoongi's bad shoulder.

note: welcome to the brand new yoongi series! i can't believe this baby is alive and ready for you to read. i struggled with this a lot, since it's written in a way i've never tried before. yoongi's pov, first person—like what? i thought this chapter was pretty shitty as i didn't feel comfortable writing in this style, but i pushed through, felt like it was meant to be—which is why i need tons of your validation. i was also kinda sad today, so please send your love. :( fyi, jungkook may be a huge part of the beginning of this story, but this is not steam pt 2. jungkook won't be present as much later on. no polyamory here. *spoiler* he just brought oc to yoongi and then he will lovingly go away, dw. :) enjoy this first chapter, i can't wait for many more! kisses.

side note: happy bday to us! mwah.

It was a bang, what happened in our group.

A bomb that blew off in Jungkookie’s trembling hands when he shared the news. A decision that wasn’t really collectively discussed, not even privately with Namjoon—but an information that erupted among us as we sat in the lounge room of the venue, refreshing ourselves with snacks and drinks after the tough soundcheck we had. I had a bottle of Hennessy in my hands myself, about to pour myself some liquid courage in order to chase away the bitter ire I had swirling in my veins, but hearing his words made me forget about the nectar right away.

He was bringing along a female friend for the tour.

The ire turned sour in my bloodstream.

He must’ve lost his mind.

And what’s worse, I was the only one who looked at him as if he were a lunatic. The members squealed and hollered, clapping their hands, shouting different variations of words of, “Jungkookie got a girlfriend!” that made him blush so profusely that he wasn’t able to reciprocate any of our eye contact.

Especially not mine.

I was fuming, taking breaths that hurt my lungs. The bottle of liquid courage damn nearly broke, but I didn’t feel a thing. How could I—when amidst the ruckus and the soft smiles of our staff my feelings parted and melted into a crossroad that I began to stand in the middle of.

One way led to selfishness, the other to the very polar opposite of it.

Jungkook didn’t deal with the pandemic well. His skin was invariably lined with a certain sensitivity towards forlornness and when the mandate forced upon him a pressure of being abandoned—by us and by his long time flirt that was the driving force behind his creativity, besides Army themselves—he didn’t take it well. Crawled inside himself, even deeper within when our management canceled our Map of the Soul tour and we had to stay bricked up inside our homes for a full year.

He was crestfallen and despondent, a decaying human. No girlfriend, no Army. No band members to slap his back, cook him food and distract his mind from the loneliness.

Except for me.

I was the one who made time for him. Who visited him, despite our management’s strong disliking for it. I went around them and did it without anyone’s knowledge but Jungkook’s. With a mask and health in perfect condition that I took care of more for him than for anyone else. Our relationship blossomed to highs that overgrew the bricked walls of our mandatory, artificial castle. A peach honeysuckle vine that we watched as much as we could while I wrote poems to him in my heart to alleviate his ache. It was spring and one, singular hummingbird would fly in to listen to my words while inhaling the sweetened perfume of those pale orange flowers or the fragrance of the natural honey I would buy him and pour over the pancakes I would make for him. A comfort food, a symbol of our secret meetings. A butterfly would sit on the small creature’s back, just to look over its wings and be a witness to a mind’s mending, an afternoon’s tea mixed with dark liquor that would always fade to noraebang.

The key to Jungkook’s heart.

I don’t know how the little fella found us, but I wish his wings would sense us here. There’s no windows for him to look out of, but the craving in me for it to fly in and save the day, remind Jungkook who’s been here for him this whole time, blossoms in me just like those peach flowers.

The castle has collapsed a tiny bit, but the honeysuckle remains untouched.

Or at least I hope so.

The other, non-selfish way is simple. Our work had been put off for so long and now that we’re able to pick it back up—in a way that isn’t as satisfactory as I’d want it to be, of course, for the only faces we’ll be seeing beyond the stage are the ones of camera lenses, not the ones belonging to our beautiful Army—there’s a distraction, an external person who could never understand the gravity of that pain we all went through.

This was supposed to be a precious time shared between us. Another mending of some sort—as our job is the chambers of our hearts.

And now as I look at her, I feel her playing with those strings of my heart like a harp. And I have that terrible feeling that she will open the doors to each chamber and ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for.

In spite of the fact that she didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a gut feeling that consumes me and I can’t do a thing about it, not even admit that it gives me the tiniest hint of a thrill that I’ve been craving for so long.

Jungkook wasn’t the only one affected by the loneliness that came with the mandate. I gave my all to him and always walked out of his door empty—with no one to refill me.

Performing again was supposed to do the job, but it seems as though she’s come in to hijack it.

Announcement, the ruffling of his hair and multitudes of teasing aside, we had an hour and half left until the beginning of our first show in Seoul. Jungkook left us, with cheeks as darkened as poppies in the summer, with a staff member and our bodyguard to pick her up at a designated meeting spot nearby. He hadn’t eaten all day—not before our dismal soundcheck and certainly not during our hair and makeup session. A ribbon of worry curled tightly in my gut that unfurled once he filled his plate with hotdogs after introducing her to us.

No shaking of hands, only Jungkook’s hand pointing at each member while his mouth gave life to their names. And she didn’t nod her head, not even once, as she moved to greet and smile at every face, which caused me to think that she either already knew of us, either due to our popularity or due to Jungkook’s stories—or both.

But when it was my turn, her smile faltered.

I didn’t see much of her face, for she wore a black mask. And the only part of her features I was able to see spoke to me in a foreign language I was too pissed off to decipher.

Feline eyes.

Round and wispy, so terribly cat-like that it cut through my heartstrings she played with and then abandoned. She held my gaze so unfathomably deeply and it wasn’t until she whisked her eyes away that I realized she, irrevocably, clutched time in her hands. It had stopped during that brief moment and resumed as if nothing happened.

It unnerved me.

As did my strange feelings as I took in the personality of her outer form.

She wore a long silky dress, as black as her energy and her hair nearly akin to the length of that garment. Its hem brushed against her ankles with every movement she made and her feet were shod in a pair of heels that would puncture my heart if she so much as wished so. Over her shoulder hung a matching, leather purse and I noticed something that bruised, most peculiarly, my flesh.

The clasp of her chain strap had a chubby Grookey Pokémon caged as a keychain.

I found it as adorable as absolutely dangerous. Still do as my eyes can’t help but to watch it twirl.

She’s a dangerous black cat, with her claws tucked in. And the entire night coils in her eyes, dressing her in innocence and a simultaneous seductiveness that make my lungs swell.

A quintessence of beauty, she is.

After the introduction is over, Jungkook pulls out a chair for her beside him, sitting down and not wasting a second as he stuffs his mouth full with one of the hotdogs. The monkey bounces with her movement and it’s only now that my brain puts two and two together. The monster almost matches the minty tinge of Jungkook’s dyed hair with its plump, green body.

None of them know that I match him, too.

A leaf of the same plant swirls in my glass of whiskey.

And the notion of iciness that it adds to the bitterness of the liquid turns to ash in my mouth as I take a sip. I, myself, sit on the armrest on the couch, alone—but not alone physically. Hobi rests, leisurely, next to me and she’s stolen glances at him more times than I like. Looked at him while completely avoiding the ring of protectiveness I’ve conjured around myself.

She does good, but it spreads fire to the strangeness of my feelings that I can’t name.

Is she throwing a rope around another one of the boys? Her claws itching to rise?

Who’s next?

I sigh as she laughs, softly, at something Namjoon says and it deepens my ire. Namjoon should’ve made order as the leader of our group. Should’ve said no to Jungkook at the unfolding of his news and keep the number of our group to seven. Especially when our time together is this precious.

Not chatting her up and coaxing that wonderful sound out of her.

“Can we get you anything to drink?” Namjoon asks, waving his hand in the direction of the alcohol station out far in the left corner of the lounge room. A mint plant mocks me as my eyes flick to it while I take another sip. The reason why it’s there in the first place is because Jimin likes his mojitos.

He sips on it like it’s a Capri-Sun as I swallow the dark liquid after swirling it in my mouth for a moment, the bitterness doing nothing to stifle my ire.

“No,” she says, feebly, brushing her fingers down the length of her ebony hair before tossing it over her shoulder, giving me a perfect look of one singular strand that has been dyed in the same pale green color that is suffused all though Jungkook’s hair. The shade, but darker, more sinister, imbues my blood with envy. It’s not that soft color, redolent of spring meadows, by any chance. It’s an ancient, vague memory of a forest once in full bloom that is now withering and dying at dusk. How long has he been seeing her that they reached this base? “I don’t drink hard liquor, but thank you.”

Namjoon licks his lips, spreading his arms over the two empty chairs beside him. “Ah,” he laments, smiling at her, gently. “You don’t drink at all?”

Jungkook lifts his head from his plate, laughing through his nose as he chews his food, his mouth forming into that bunny smile of his. He knows something I don’t and my green blood boils.

The cat girl grins, her head twisted in Jungkook’s direction when she laughs, the skin under her chin rounding out, and my chest tightens in endearment at the sight of it.

The cutest fucking double chin I ever have the eyes to see.

Fuck.

“Oh, she drinks,” Jungkook says, his words muffled due to his full cheeks, the food inside showing as he continues to be all smiles.

The cat girl pinches his arm, but owing to the thick fluffiness of his jumper, she doesn't reach skin, and therefore doesn't inflict the pain she intended. Jungkook pretends to moan in pain, anyway. My chest tightens again—this time for a beat longer.

An oddity flies through my vision, slicing through my envy.

Her claws sinking into my bare skin as I let her playfulness out—

I shake that picture out of my head as quickly as it arrives, running my fingers through my strands that had fallen in front of my eyes. The girl helps my effort by speaking, distracting me from the faint rush of lust that begins to course down my body.

I can’t get hard.

“Yeah, I only drink wine,” she reveals, coyness entwining around her tone, and she kneads her hands, struggling with her straight posture.

Another distraction, one that softens, most peculiarly, my lust.

If I were born with deaf ears, I would’ve known she was fighting through her shyness by one glance at her body language and I don’t blame her.

She doesn’t have only seven pairs of eyes watching her. She’s the apple of fifteen more if I include our staff, sound engineers and our management.

If I weren’t the person I was and if this wasn’t my job, I would have run the first chance I got. A certain admiration envelops my heart the more I study her toy with her fingers, soothingly, because of a reason that aches to admit.

A reason far from plain.

She’s the same as me. Uncomfortable by and disliking any public event with people involved, especially if you’re put in a position to talk.

A bond forms and I can’t stop it. I can’t rip it apart even as I willfully try in my headspace to cut off that red string tied around my heart, leading to hers. I can’t because she eventually slouches, giving up, her spine protruding towards me through the open back of her dress, for she’s turned her body towards Namjoon, who sits at the head of the table, but I figure she did it in order to be closer to Jungkook to gain some comfort from him. The skin of her back is refulgent and tanned, scattered with little blemishes that connect, like constellations, to a night sky full of birthmarks, and that only add to her beauty.

Her whole back is filled with them, stirring my wonder. And, unknowingly, she let me see by sweeping her hair to one side. I wonder if Jungkook has seen them and appreciates them as much as I do—

Jungkook burps, obscenely loudly, setting down Hobi’s unfinished can of Sprite that he left on the table. I’m sure Hobi’s regretting making that mistake, but when I look at him, he’s smiling so widely that I can see his gums and I’m so astounded by that view that I’m thrown off my balance.

Even more so, when I check the reactions of the other members and begin to feel shame descending down my own spine like cold sweat. Jimin has hearts thumping in his eyes, raising his hand in the girl cat’s direction, connecting with her as he says he loves a good bubbly. Taehyung, sitting on the direct opposite side of Jungkook by the table with his arms crossed and his face flushed intones that tonight after the show he will break his sobriety streak. Jin joins the table and flicks Taehyung’s forehead, tells him he doesn’t have to break anything while taking a huge bite of his banana. And Namjoon… he laughs, hands intertwined upon the back of his head.

The whole table laughs, in fact.

Hobi does beside me, too.

I’m the only one who doesn’t, steeped in my uncertainty as I am.

They all bask in comfort and gaiety. There’s no awkwardness, no unspoken words or silence that hangs heavily in the air. There’s no need for our hummingbird; no need to change directions, play pretend or act accordingly to the new situation because there’s absolutely nothing new about the atmosphere I find myself to be in. Everything is as if it were just the seven of us.

Making jokes, lighthearted energy, connections lengthening and digging deep…

I haven’t seen that, been a part of that in so long.

I was wrong—and the shame, stemming from my wrong impression and unwarranted fear, washes out the envy from my blood. It stands, arm to arm, with my life-long emptiness and I bow my head down, licking my lips.

I wish to exit myself out of this room.

I wish my heart wasn’t so sensitive.

I wish—

“It’s her birthday today and I bought so many bottles of champagne and wine,” Jungkook says, running his tongue over his teeth, and my head lifts; my heart enlarges before it shrinks, painfully, magnifying my shame until it grazes the flesh like a shard. It’s her birthday? “I’ll need your help, guys. We’re not celebrating here tonight. After the show, we’re going to my place.”

It’s not peach honeysuckle that I’m thinking of. Not pancakes. Not our hummingbird and butterfly as the boys cheer all over again, wishing her happy birthday.

It’s her that I’m thinking of.

And how much I messed up.

He brought her here to make her birthday special—to be with her on the day that carries her name, not to replace me.

It explains why she’s so magnificently dressed up; why she’s putting her feet through so much pain in those heels of hers.

Just for one night. And I’ve managed to ruin it so majestically with my energy. No wonder she won’t look at me; no wonder her eyes won’t even sweep past me en route to Hobi’s chocolate fountain that his eyes emanate.

Mine are nothing but death. I don’t blame the decline of her smile as her pools met it. A kitty cat that looked at the face of a skull. It symbolized the end of time and now I perceive that it epitomizes the end of me.

The longer she’s present, the more I loosen the consuming negativity that I’ve lived for so long in compliance with—because now I’m soft.

I’m gutted I made her feel awful to be here with my dark energy.

“Jungkook, you should’ve told us that was the reason why you brought her along. We would have welcomed you with a happy birthday song,” Namjoon says, his palm lifted towards Jungkook and her while his other hand reminds behind his head.

I can’t see her smile. Not even a hint of it in her eyes, for this time around she doesn’t turn around to steal a glance at Hobi. And I wish she would, with a strength that I’m in awe that I’m even possessing, because I find myself yearning to look at her face, amidst my softness.

I misjudged her so terribly that the yearning doubles as she presses her hands against her cheeks amidst the overbearing attention. Becomes a need—a need to fix what I so unfairly have broken.

And jealousy thunderstrikes in my system when Jungkook bumps his shoulder into hers, gently, his head tipped low, fixed in her direction as she struggles, once again, in her shyness. Straightens her spine just in time for Jungkook to curl a finger around her ear and take off her black mask.

I’m so jealous everyone else gets to see her face fully that indignation supersedes my past ire and my softness and I’m quickly up on my feet, ready to walk out to breathe in some fresh air but something else steps into my plan.

And it’s not her.

It could never be her.

Staffs members circle around us, guiding us out of the room to wire us up. But I stall my time, purposefully staying behind so I can look at her. I pretend to exercise my pain from my shoulder surgery by rolling it and making a face. Jungkook whispers something to her, her face pointed upwards as he stands before her while she remains sitting and I’m so bothered by it that it calls out the pain, incites it to come haunt me again.

Everyone else had something to say to her—and yet I still haven’t, owing to my foolish mistake. Self-hatred fastens to my anger and I can’t breathe, my lack of knowing what to say to her when the time comes worsening my feelings.

The boys leave the room and it’s just me and her. The staff member knows not to push me, but the pressure in her eyes is the driving force that takes my legs to the kitty girl.

She sits so awfully forlornly in her chair, reminds me so much of Jungkook, her spine back to slouching, that marvelous pillar protruding again and my lungs do that thing they seem to automatically do whenever I see that part of her.

She hears my footfalls as I approach her, but she doesn’t turn around. I ignore the way it makes me feel, the heaviness that comes with it, too. She, in most probability, thinks I’m walking out of this room without saying a word to her, but I’m not capable of that.

Not anymore.

I call out her name and, in surprise, she lifts her spine. Turns around, at last, the sleek fabric of the dress adding swiftness to the movement and I see her face. Her full mouth that compliments, most perfectly, her big feline eyes. And I think about how much her dark, sensual energy doesn’t mirror her personality, her coyness that hides inside until someone speaks to her. Her chin is so small that my fist would still be empty if I held it in the way my body asks for, but the look she gives me diminishes the lust that slowly begins to crawl again within me.

It’s one that bears a different kind of shyness. It’s fear-induced respect and the hatred towards myself thickens.

I don’t want her to feel this way, but I molded it in her.

It’s my fault.

It’s why I think twice before I tell my fingers no, for they ache to drum against the top edge of her chair in effort to linger in her proximity. I won’t encourage her discomfort when I yearn to wipe it clean. But when she inhales my prolonged silence and raises her thin brows in waiting, the tiniest sliver of a smile quivering on her lips, she doesn’t know it—but she somehow gives me the words I was lacking.

“Did Jungkook tell you where to go?” I ask, softly, fearing her knees will turn away from me, her body language divulging to me the depth of her uneasiness around me. But she remains put, the pillows of her lips balancing at last as they stretch out in a small grin that I don’t deserve.

Her slender nose crinkles.

My heart forgets to beat.

“No, he told me to wait here and that Min-ji will take me to a room where I can watch you, guys, perform on the TV,” she says, her grin making it difficult for her to get the words out and she blushes. There must be some other, silent language shared between our bodies because I discover myself smiling, too, even though there’s nothing from her sentence that can possibly be the cause of it.

The energy shifts, devastatingly, and heat clings to my skin, dispersing relief down my nerve endings.

All while buzzing tingles chase it, hastily, grabbing it by the back of its shirt and consuming it.

It’s strange, so terribly strange to be consumed by nervousness when I’ve been used to nothingness and emptiness for so long.

And her eyes seem to grow bigger, despite the irrepressible dynamism of her fear. Is she gaining thrill out of it—to be staring at the face of breaking death like the small kitten she is and knowing it’s her power that influences me?

Those eyes. If my ears weren’t bombarded by Hobi’s sound effects wafting down the hall and into the lounge room, mingling with the rise and fall of Jungkook’s voice as he warms it up, I swear I can hear the song of swallows in them. She’s a manifestation of a summer evening in her fear and nervousness, when those birds go mad in the tender blues and pinks of the sky—and I don’t know why I like it so much. Why I want to seize it in my hand and squeeze it.

And she’s about to be all alone here with it while I go join the rest of my brothers.

It’s something that doesn’t feel right.

The staff member taps me on my back. Time is against me—why doesn’t she control it? I swivel behind me to catch her nodding her chin in the direction of the hall and I sigh, quietly.

“Wait with her until Min-ji comes to get her, so she’s not alone here,” I tell her, then look down at the kitty girl again.

Her raised brows create wrinkles on her forehead and once she sees that I’ve noticed, she relaxes, wetting her lips. Doesn't want me to see the surprise that comes from what she created in me.

How cute.

“Enjoy the show,” I murmur, moving my feet towards the exit. I gaze back at her, catch her lungs shuddering, and the words slip off my tongue before I scramble the courage to stop them. “And happy birthday.”

Her blush reaches her neck and it’s all my vision consists of—even when I’m performing.

Our interaction was too short. Too, too short. And my anger took on a new face.

Hers.

Every word I rapped as I stared into the camera, I felt it dissolving in me and transforming into a yearning so great that my verses gained new meaning. A yearning to see her again, talk to her, pinch that fear in my fingers and fling it away, make space for something in her that had the vigor to surprise me and make me soft again. And in my concentration, I didn’t have the fight in me to put a stop to it. I was doing my duty for the happiness of our Army and while I thought about her, it seemed right. Those two things went along and it spurred a pleasant feeling in me that was warmer than the adrenaline sticking to my inflamed body from all the performing.

It didn’t hit me that she was watching me the whole time until my eyes regarded her unperturbed, flaccid posture in that white plastic chair, wading in my thoughts as I was. Her grin and the flecks of light in her eyes illuminate the room with orange, blazing fire. She’s barefoot, her heels kicked to the side, crooked, elegiac, yet still sensuous. Our show is being rerun on the TV and she’s watching it, transfixed, not realizing me and Jungkook were the first to come to her out of the group.

A mental connection clicks in my brain at the sight of it. The peach blossoms of the honeysuckle, Jungkook and the genuine love I carry for him. It is that orange color—it’s a home that keeps it safe, the atmosphere that she exudes through her evident elation and I don’t really understand why I feel this way.

I haven’t even known her for a day.

And it’s forced to collapse when her pools don’t find mine, but Jungkook’s once we walk in, joining her. She holds up her hand in the air, curling down her middle and ring fingers in while the rest of her digits remain erect, small and slim as they are. Her nose crunches up in the way it did when our bodies spoke in that secret language. And when she laughs and the corners of her eyes crinkle, I realize she’s mimicking his gesture that he so often does on stage while showing off his Army tattoo.

The finger-fucking gesture.

Her blush beams on her face, even more so when she does a stroking movement with her curled fingers, and I can’t help but wonder, briefly, if that’s how she does it to herself when she’s all alone and the night sinks inside her skin to get a refill of her juices, only to smear it across the sky.

It’s what I need to focus on, so I don’t explode in anger that she ignores me.

Jungkook cackles, sticking out his tongue and doing the gesture. I hide my face in my towel, getting rid of the sweat coating me—but it pours out of my pores again when I hear her giggle.

And I need to leave, my imagination no longer strong enough to withstand the jealousy that poisons my blood all over again.

I fling the towel out and away from me, not caring where it lands.

I don’t meet any eyes as I walk out, keeping my sight fixed on the gray floor, streaked with black lines from the hundreds of wheels of carts that have drove down the hall and from all the sneakers that have walked past. I follow them and I don’t know where they take me until I’m suddenly face to face with the gaping night.

And it’s not her.

It’s my wound.

No stars for a naked pupil to see. Merely an abounding canvas of blackness that stares back at me and questions me, questions my feelings when it knows full well how hard I’ve wept, many times, in its airy embrace.

I sit against the wall, needing something solid to support me, the spaciousness of the roof enveloping me, but not tightly enough. There, but never close enough—always a safe distance apart, as if afraid of me.

Everyone is so always fucking afraid of me.

And when they lean in and graze my heart, they get repulsed by me.

It’s an ouroboros that my life, like my legs, follows. Like a dog chasing its own tail—and it’s such a perfect comparison because I’ve always been alone, save for my brothers. Distracted for a while, then alone again.

I’m weary of it, despite the fact my body tends to wait for the thrill of the attention, longs for it, even when I dislike it. I’m an oxymoron that won’t cease and I have to live with it.

And I can’t exit out of it because I have millions of lives that depend on me, plus six more.

I sigh and I think sucking on a cigarette, numbly, while I crawl on my knees through the forest of my thoughts and feelings would be a thing of perfection. But I can’t afford that. Not when we’re working again. Not when our boss lurks at every corner, has eyes everywhere. Jungkook has had his last hotdog for a while and I…

I swathed my broken strings around someone he brought into my life.

Through a little hole my brothers let me see by forcing her to sit through a conversation that was a pain for her. A moonlight stripe of her personality, encased by her social anxiety and shyness. One that has awakened my body to emotions it hasn’t felt the touch of in a long time.

Why am I not fighting it?

Why am I not coercing my soul into submission, into that abyss of emptiness and hostility?

Why am I letting myself feel?

She’s just a girl that he’s seeing. Many stories like these have been written before and we’ve read the lines, recognized words that limned us, only for the love interest to disappear into thin air after some time like she never existed. And she’d just be another character in his love chronicles, if her persona hadn’t spoken to me so much.

If her body hadn’t spoken to me in a language no one knows—not even me.

I can’t begin my sentences about her with ‘she’s just a girl’, because she isn’t.

And I don’t understand how that’s come to be.

It happened so quickly that I fear I wasn’t present enough.

My wound tilts its head as my world does the same thing—slants on its axis. Coos at me, seeing me, seeing through me. Reminds me of what happened the last time I felt.

The passing of my girlfriend gave me the gift of a gun to my hand—gave me the face of death that I’ve been carrying ever since because it nearly made my dream of time ending come true. And the kitty girl… standstill hangs off her fingers like a pearl necklace that’s too long. And I find myself wanting to wear it. Because it’s her decision, her consciousness, her will.

Not mine.

And it will bring me closer to my Sun-mi.

My wound begins to cry at the memory of her, raindrops pitter-pattering on the tin ridges of the rooftop and I cherish that she’s remembered and honored by such vastness, by such picturesqueness that I’ve always considered the night to be. And when the wind brushes along my fidgeting hands, I almost feel her touch all over again.

Feel.

I feel.

And in my heart, I tell her. I sail to her, attaching myself to her again. Tell my Sun-mi that I am capable of feeling and that I don’t know how it came together in me. And I ask her, in utmost respect, to guide me on this unknown path.

Because I am alone without her. Adrift, without rhyme and reason. No wits to me, no rationality, no clear perception of right and wrong.

There’s only grayness to me.

Maybe that’s why I, unknowingly, dyed my hair this color before the start of the tour.

And it dawns on me, now that one chapter has closed in my life, that the passing of my Sun-mi a year and a half ago is the reason why I’ve clung to Jungkook so rigidly. Because I couldn’t spend my time on her, I spent it on Jungkook. Because I had all this love for her and I couldn’t give it to her, so I gave it to Jungkook.

And the kitty girl has put a stop to it.

Sun-mi graces me with the tepid, yet fuzzy impression that it’s good—that it was meant to happen. And I believe her.

And with my belief, the rain thickens.

A thunder rolls forward from a far-away corner of the canvas of the sky that I can’t see. And I dwell in the pool of the fountain of the love I still have for her and forever will continue to have. Kneel in it. Search for her.

I imagine her. The button of her nose, the curl of her top lip whenever we ridiculed aegyo by doing it together and doing a good fucking job while at it. I imagine her small fist at her round cheek, but she connects my memories to the kitty girl.

And she consumes me, wholly.

Sun-mi makes me imagine her doing a cat-like aegyo and as the corner of my mouth lifts, a particular fear devours my gut.

A fear of closeness.

A fear of doing something with her that I did with Sun-mi, even when she okays it in my spirit.

A fear of reliving something so painful again.

The rain inches towards me and I scurry to my feet, my hand trembling as I open the door to the staircase. And when I shut out the sound of hard rainfall and prevent the traumatic memories of my accident from slinking into my mind, it’s the only strength I have left.

And I crumble.

I mirror the rain I abhor so much.

I sit on the top of the staircase and I sear my hands with my acid-suffused tears. Sob so devastatingly that I don’t recognize myself, drenching the denim fabric over my knees. And when I pull on my hair, numbness is all that I detect within me.

Good.

No feelings; only emptiness.

I steel myself by taking a few deep breaths, letting the oxygen settle that deep in me. And I unattach myself from my Sun-mi, promise her I will get back to her soon. Go back to who I previously was before I scraped the skin of my knees raw on the hardened soil of my emotions and thoughts.

Alone death.

But Sun-mi doesn’t sail away back to heaven. Doesn’t let me go. She stomps her foot on the wet grass of my heart and I understand why. I asked her to guide me and what I didn’t know was that she would break the laws of heaven in order to do that. She wouldn’t whisper words of wisdom into the chambers of my heart. She would take my hand and show me wisdom, pointing me to the right decision.

That is my Sun-mi.

I let her because I need her. I bow to her and I would stoop to my stomach on this dirty, metal staircase floor to divulge my respect and gratitude to her if I didn’t hear a voice echoing up towards me.

A familiar male voice calling out to me.

Sun-mi pulls me to it and tingles vibrate down my legs as I fly through the stairs, skipping the bottom ones in order to get me faster to my brother. Sun-mi pumps blood into my heart, refreshing the grass she lays upon, and lightness descends upon my shoulders.

Her work of art.

Heaving, I meet Jungkook in the doorframe, glancing up at me, disappointment lidding his eyes. But I don’t fear, not when Sun-mi is with me. He opens the door wider for me to step through, but I remain fixed on my spot, panting, ringing piercing through my hearing sense.

Too much adrenaline at once in a season of drought. My body is unable to catch up to the new acclimatization.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my throat raw from my crying and I clear it, so there’s no evidence of my sensitivity. Sun-mi caresses the wall of my heart to soothe me and tears burn at the back of my eyes—from the simple fact that I can feel her.

I’ve felt her only once before. A week after she died, I prayed to her, loudly, until I lost my voice. Begged her to come back to me.

And she did.

And it felt nice until it didn’t—so I made it my habit to attach and unattach myself because of my fragility. It is only a matter of time before the logic of your mind distinguishes a real person from a ghost. And the parting of that vulnerable mist, in the middle of your agony, isn’t for the faint-hearted.

But Sun-mi, at this very moment, feels more real than she ever has. As if she truly was hidden in the rooms of my heart like a little doll, like a little angel that has the task from above to guide me.

And because I need it, I’ll let more time pass through this transcendental connection.

Jungkook flattens his lips, tightly, the tip of his tongue poking out to play with the thin metal pierced through his bottom lip. He’s changed back into the clothes he came in, minus the fluffy jacket. A black T-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It makes the green of his hair stand out—just like the wisp of the same color on that singular strand of the girl kitty’s hair.

They have a tendency to match and shame boils in me, that Sun-mi is a witness to the jealousy I feel. I haven’t told her and I don’t know if I want to. In my momentary cowardice, I hope that she can sense it and validate it.

But I gain nothing from her.

Silence.

One that Jungkook breaks.

“Staff said that we have to wait until the storm passes.”

My stomach sinks, the memory of the rainfall faint in my ears. “Good.”

Jungkook pauses before he voices out the question that I can visibly see rising in him. Nibbles his bottom lip, the metal tilting to the side like my world. “Where did you go?”

My breath shivers as I inhale, tasting my half-false words before I speak them. “I felt hot and I needed some fresh air.”

I felt jealous that you made dirty innuendos with your friend, I don’t say. It led me to seek my dead girlfriend because I feel inclined to fraternize with that aforementioned friend.

Jungkook frowns. “You went out in the rain?”

I pass through the gap between his body and the doorframe, not able to stand the position I’ve been put in, anxiety prickling my fingertips. Jungkook lets the door shut behind him with a loud thud, following closely behind me until he falls in step beside me.

“It felt refreshing until it didn’t,” I decide to mutter. Typical words of mine—I can’t stand them either.

Sun-mi is still silent.

Maybe I should unattach myself, protect myself from further pain. It was a moment of weakness, anyways—

Jungkook rubs my shoulder, gently, the fixed one, barely touching me, but the gesture is there. And I grasp why I love him so much.

His gentleness is everything to me.

“The rain will stop,” he says and I take those words to heart, giving them the meaning that they are the wisdom I needed to hear, the wisdom I sought from my quiet Sun-mi.

The rain will stop.

The sensitivity will stop, too.

And time will stop soon, one day.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff.

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suuuupernovaaa · 2 months

Text

zaldrīzes

zaldrīzes - dragon

Aemond's intended claims a dragon, quite unexpectedly, and he is greatly pleased.

Tags: aemondxoc, aemondxreader, no use of y/n, sexual content, 18+

Word Count: 1.1k

Her footsteps echo through the hall, wet and loud, thwap, thwap, thwap. Heads turn, watching her soaking skirts flying behind her, but she notices no one and nothing except him.

His arms open as she flies to him, soaking him completely as she wraps him in a tight and boisterous embrace.

"What is it?" Aemond asks, unsure if he should be concerned or scared. She is never affectionate in public, and always the example of composure and quiet elegance. To see her sprinting through the halls, white hair loose and wild, skirts filthy, is a brand new sight for him.

"I claimed him," she hisses, pulling apart only a few inches from her husband-to-be.

"Claimed?" Aemond asks, leaning into her. "A dragon?"

"Zaldrīzes iksis ñuhon." The grin upon her beautiful, flushed face grows, ear to ear, painfully wide. The dragon is mine.

She has left Vhagar's rider speechless, for the first time in all his years. "Which?" is all he can muster in reply.

"Cannibal."

His beloved has never lied to him, and he does not think she ever would, but this must be some untruth. A joke she is playing on him. Cannibal cannot be claimed - should not be claimed. No one has ever been foolish enough to try.

He pulls her by the elbow, away from prying eyes, into an alcove, and presses her gently into the cold stone wall. She shivers.

"You lie."

The smile falls from her face, and through he is confused and a little angry, he feels guilty still.

"Why would I lie, my love?"

The high of claiming the dragon they say could not be claimed is starting to wear off, and the dampness of my clothes is beginning to bring a chill to my bones.

I shiver again, but not because of the cold. It's entirely because of the way my husband-to-be stares down at me, with rage and confusion in his eye.

"Aemond," I reach out, cupping his angled jaw. "Why would I lie?" I repeat. "The beast, he was upon my riding path. I had never seen him before. He is... so large, Aemond. I made to turn, but he turned and looked at me. Looked into me, it felt. When I approached and commanded him, he bowed. He lay down his wing, so I might climb on, and we rode."

"With no saddle?"

"I admit, that was a challenge I did not foresee. His scales are so large, Aemond, that I was able to settle into the grooves of them. Were it not raining, I daresay I may have been able to easily hold on. As it was, the ride was short. But I claimed him, Aemond! Cannibal!" It was hard to keep my voice hushed with my excitement, and my nerves. I had not thought Aemond would be so angry.

He steps forward, just half a step, closing the distance between us and pressing me tightly to the stones.

"You could have been killed," he hisses through a tight jaw.

I nod slowly, and shiver once more. "I know. I am sorry, but I... I could not help myself."

Just as I am beginning to wonder if Aemond is going to really hurt me, his mouth is upon mine, a welcome warmth in the chilling cold. His kiss is urgent and demanding, and my hands find their way into his hair with a mind all their own. Aemond's hand slides over my backside as his tongue explores my mouth, then his curious hand moves down my thigh, and to the back of my knee. He pulls my leg up, and presses his core into mine through our clothes, eliciting a moan from deep in my chest. A chill runs through me, nothing to do with the cold air and my wet clothes.

"Aemond, someone will see," I whisper, pulling away just long enough to do so, before he silences me with his mouth upon mine once more.

"Let them see. Let them see me fuck Cannibal's rider right here, in front of them all," he drawls, his lips trailing down my chin, my neck, and to the small area of flesh visible above my dress. He presses his hard cock into me once more, and my head rolls back against the castle wall. "But I think I'll take you in a warm bath instead, dragon rider."

True to his word, Aemond requests a hot bath in his room, and while it is filled, helps me undress and hangs my clothes gently by the fire - something I have only ever seen our chambermaids attend to.

He takes my hand gently and escorts me to the scorching bath. Settling in, it causes gooseflesh to break out on my skin, going from so cold to so hot, but I quickly settle in, releasing a moan.

I turn my head to the side to see Aemond undressing, keeping his eye trained on me as his clothes drop to the floor, revealing the beautiful and toned body of a warrior.

Eagerly, I lean forward so that he can slide in behind me, and he pulls me back once seated so I can rest against his chest.

"Are you terribly angry with me?" I ask after a long, comfortable silence.

Aemond reaches over to the small wooden table next to the bath, and grabs the soap. "Not terribly, no," he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

He starts to wash me gently, with great care. My arms, over my chest and stomach, my legs down to my toes, until I am the cleanest I have ever been, as well as the warmest.

"Were you scared?" he asks.

"Of you, or Cannibal?"

He snorts, but does not answer.

"Yes, I was terrified. But once he laid down his wing in invitation, the fear disappeared. It felt so right, to mount and ride him. He is so large, Aemond."

He sets down the soap and runs his hands up my arms once more. "We are unstoppable now, you and I."

I lean back into my lover, pressing my forehead to his cheek, as his arms encircle me tightly. "Now I can protect you, as you have always protected me. You, and the entire royal family."

He sighs once more, and presses a kiss to my forehead. "I am in awe of you. Tomorrow, I will request the wedding be moved up."

"To when?" I ask, closing my eyes as Aemond's wet, strong hands begin to roam my body.

"The earliest possible moment. I will not be unwed to you a second longer than is necessary, my dragon-claimer."

Aemond's adept hands find their target, and I arch my back, gasping. "Yes, my lord," I reply, and he chuckles.

"No one is lord to you, not anymore," he replies - and then devours me whole.

#aemond targaryan #aemond fic #Aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction

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vendetta-if · 11 months

Text

Chapter 6 Part 3 + Major System Public Update! 🎉

Hello everyone! 👋 It's finally time for the public update! 😁 This update brings in 24K of new words, bringing Chapter 6 wordcount in total to 89.4K words and the total demo wordcount to 325.3K words! This update brings Chapter 6 to a neat close, which is important because to me, Chapter 6 is like the end of the first arc of the book.

Not only that, but I have also added a few major coding functions with this update, namely, a skip chapter function, and an autosave and reload function. I'm aware that my demo is getting longer, so I assume a skip chapter function might be a welcome addition.

It took me a long time to plan and figure out how to implement these systems, but in the end, after a lot of personal testing, I have finally managed to make them work.

WARNING: It's highly advised that you either play from the beginning with clean saves (or try out the new skip chapter function). I messed with some of the old variables as well, including Santana's and Skylar's default relationship values. Do not reload the saves to avoid potential future errors.

What's to expect from the new update:

Dropping Rin off to their apartment (and maybe, if you've been a good boy/girl, you can get a little smooch 😘)

Have an angsty talk with Uncle Luka 😥

But don't worry, there are potential wholesome moments too (if you choose them, of course 😉)

Another POV of the killer 😈 To see more on how they think and what they know so far.

Brand new skip chapter function! (Currently only for Chapter 6)

An autosave and reload function! (Currently only for Chapter 6)

Plus some new little stuff added in previous chapters.

New stuff added to previous chapters:

Chapter 2: Add proper introduction scene with Ivan and Boris, the twin bodyguards, highlighting their different personalities and their relationship with MC and Ash. They have changed quite a lot and become more fleshed out compared to the first time I wrote them.

Chapter 4: For MCs who said yes to Yvette when she asked them whether they are interested in becoming a Superhero, you now have the option to accept her guidance and reconnect with her or reject her guidance but still have a choice whether to reconnect with her or not. This is in contrast to how those who said yes was forced to reconnect with her.

Chapter 6: Meddle, fix, and add some background variables. Another reason to play from the beginning and to not load old saves.

Also, I have a side story just released on both Patreon and Ko-Fi and a spicy one coming really soon! I'm also still opening ideas/suggestions for this month's side stories until November 11th and then after that, we'll have our polls! So if you're also interested in supporting me while also getting these exclusive contents, please do consider becoming a member! 💖🥰

[DEMO] | [PATREON] | [KO-FI] | [COG FORUM] | [DISCORD]

#demo update #chapter update #writing updates #if: vendetta #if vendetta #vendetta if #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript #choice of games #hosted games #cyoa #interactive game #cyoa games #interactive fiction wip #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive games

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ethanmorales · 1 year

Text

Misconceptions

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Part 4 - Air

Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 4.1k words Requested Tags: @arij3lly@hitoshislut@bjrmaybank@ghostfaceorgirlfriend @in-silverlake @misacc08 Warnings: swearing, smut

It's the beginning of a brand-new school year at Sherman Oaks high. The last year for some of us; me included. But the start of my senior year, ironically, is not the reason my legs are wobbly. Nope, that was all because of Ethan, who had knocked on my window for a late-night visit about 6 hours ago. There were a few things he wanted to try so… let’s just say, it was a good thing my mom had the night shift at the hospital.

It’s only been a week since our first time. Only a week since he admitted having feelings for me. Unfortunately, we didn’t discuss the matter further. My mom had gotten home after his confession, and he practically had to take his clothes and run out the back door before we got caught. We’ve met almost every day since, but we haven’t talked about us. We kiss a lot and of course we have sex, sometimes we even cuddle, and we talk about our days, but we never talk about what we are to each other and at this point, I’m afraid to ask.

I loved every second of the time we’ve spent together. But now that school has started again, I’m afraid. Afraid that things will go back to how they used to be. Afraid that a new girl will catch his attention. I know it makes no sense, after he confessed to having feelings for me, but the heart is a treacherous thing. You can never trust it. I most certainly don’t trust mine. It always makes me feel crazy most times. Or maybe it’s my mind that’s the problem.

It doesn’t help that it’s almost time for first period and I’ve not heard from Ethan yet. He usually texts me as soon as he wakes up. Today? Nada. I even texted him first, but he left me on read. So, I’m spiraling, just a little bit. I think I’m entitled to in this situation.

I glance around the hallway one more time as the bell rings. I don’t see him anywhere. At that moment, Devi links her arm around mine. “That was the bell ringing just now,” she said, pointing a finger in the air.

I ignored the sarcasm but let her steer me away to our first class.

“I was expecting some witty remark,” she said, when I didn’t reply.

I force myself to smile, “Sorry, head in the clouds today.”

“It’s okay, girl. The first day of school sucks. My sleeping schedule is so messed up from a summer full of all-nighters.”

I quirk an eyebrow at this, “Do these all-nighters have a name?”

Devi shakes her head furiously, “Nope. No name at all.” I pretended to believe her as our teacher walked in the door, closing it behind him. I look back to Ethan’s desk but it’s empty. I hide my phone under the desk and shoot him a quick text.

Skipping on the first day? That’s bad, even for you.

Devi smacks the top of my desk, eyes wide. I glance to the front of the classroom and see the teacher is staring right at me. “Sorry, Mr. Shapiro.”

He sighs, “You guys are lucky I am the coolest teacher ever,” he continues before anyone can respond. “Raise of hands if you completed your summer reading,” pauses, “Yes, the audio book counts. No, the movie does not.”

The rest of the class was a blur. A glance at my phone confirmed that Ethan hadn’t responded. The anxiety in my chest continued to grow as time continued to pass. At lunchtime I still hadn’t heard from him. At this point, I was angry.

Fuming, I stomped all the way to my locker, putting away my books and backpack for the hour. As I’m closing the door, Dominic Stryker leans against the locker next to mine. Dominic was an exchange student that started late last semester. Everyone was surprisingly welcoming to him, but that might have something to do with the fact that he’s hot. Mind you, I only have eyes for Ethan but if I didn’t, the windswept blond hair and bright blue eyes would do it for me.

But Ethan was very much the only person that I wanted, so Dominic’s presence only served to irritate me more.

“Yes?” I asked when he just stared at me, sweeping his hair back with his hand.

Unfazed by my tone, he smiles warmly at me, “Say, have you seen Ethan anywhere? He hasn’t been in any of our classes.”

I frown at this, “Of all the people you could ask, why would I know where he is?”

Dominic shrugs, “I just got a vibe last time, like you were into him or something.”

I huffed. “I am definitely not into him.” I say it louder than I intend to, and some people slow down to look at us. He waves at them, and they quickly carry on with their business.

“My bad,” he says, looking back at me, smiling wider, “Just a misunderstanding.”

I sigh, once I realize that I’m being snappy and rude. “I’m sorry. It’s not been a great morning, I’m a little on edge. There’s no excuse for taking it out on you.”

Dominic slides over the lockers a bit, cutting some of the distance between us; then lowers his voice.

“I forgive you,” he says, “but I might have to seek compensation for the emotional damage.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile does tug at my lips. “Whatever. I’ll buy you a soda. Is that compensation enough?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “How about a meal? After school?”

I suddenly realized that he was asking about Ethan to make sure he could make his move. And I basically gave him the opening. Horrified, I struggle to respond.

“I- uh

“She’s busy after school.” The voice was very close behind me. I turned around so quickly that I bumped into his chest.

“Ethan.” Even at my addressing him, he didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on Dominic. For the moment, I ceased to exist.

“I think Y/N can decide if she’s busy or not,” Dominic says, standing up straighter to look down at Ethan. But Ethan seems unfazed.

“I think you need to keep walking before I lose my patience.” Ethan’s words were calm, but I knew him well enough to know this was the calm before the storm. I’ve seen him fight before; Dominic did not stand a chance if it turned into that.

“Guys, please. Just stop. If you get detention this week, they won’t let you come to homecoming.” I was trying to be the voice of reason, but my reasoning was lacking in many ways. My audience could care less about homecoming, for one.

“I’m still waiting for a response, “Dominic says, ignoring my previous statement. “Food after school? I know a cool spot.”

Ethan pulls me to the side so that he can face Dominic without me being in the middle.

“I already told you that she’s busy.” Ethan’s voice was not as calm as before. His hands were balled into fists. I knew I had to stop this now or it would turn into a fight.

“I got a lot going on right now, sorry Dominic.” My words come out quick.

Ethan smiled at this, motioning towards me. “You heard her. Now go find someone else to hit on.”

Dominic’s expression was deadly as he stared back at Ethan, but then his gaze turned to me.

“I thought you were definitely not into him,” he said it in a mocking tone, air quotations in the air. I didn’t know what to say that could make this better, so I just looked at him with what I hoped looked like a silent apology. He just shook his head in disbelief as he pushed past us, finally leaving us alone.

Even with his departure, Ethan stays in place, still not looking at me.

“Ethan?” I finally say.

I jump in surprise as he slams his fist on the locker door and I see the metal bend.

“Oh my God,” I grab his arm and pull him away before anyone sees what he did. I haul him through the hallway and take a left, this part of school is empty during lunch time. I find the nearest door and push him through it. I lock the door behind us and turn around. It’s the faculty bathroom, I realize.

“Are you insane? Do you know how much trouble you could get into for damaging school property? You don’t need a vandalism strike on your records.”

He finally turns to face me, but the expression on his face is even angrier than before.

“What the fuck do I care about that?” he replies. Before I can start listing the reasons why he should care, he continues, “What the fuck was that shit about?” He points to the door, but I know he is talking about Dominic. I stay quiet for a moment, not sure how to proceed. I had never seen him this angry. Ever. But at the same time, screw him. I was angry at him myself.

“I should be the one asking you, what the fuck was that? I’ve been looking for you all morning and texting you and nothing. You ghost me and then have the audacity to throw a jealous scene over some guy asking me out?!” The volume of my voice rose with each word.

I half expected Ethan to throw more angry words at me, or to yell back at me, but it was the opposite. His voice low, he responds. “I dropped my phone in the toilet this morning.”

I stare, waiting for the punchline but he doesn’t say anything else.

“You dropped your phone in the toilet,” I repeat, not sure if I believed it.

Ethan let out an annoyed breath, “I was going to respond to your text, and I dropped it. If you texted after the first one that I read, I haven’t seen them. I left my phone in a bowl of rice.”

I scoff, “Your phone is waterproof.”

Ethan gives me a pointed look, “Not if you leave it in water for a long time, apparently.”

“Why would you leave it in there at all?”

Silence.

“Ethan, I am trying to give you the chance to explain.”

He mumbled something under his breath.

I take a step closer to hear him better. “What was that?”

Ethan shakes his head. “My parents were fighting again.”

“Oh.” Is all I can say.

Ethan laughs, but the sound is bitter.

“Yeah. So, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back to you then. But you letting this dick hit on you while I’m dealing with that shit. Fuck that.”

I suddenly felt terrible, even though I didn’t know what was happening until he explained. We kept ending up in this situation, always with a misunderstanding. But I knew the only reason this kept happening is because our communication was shit. Because I didn’t know where we stood.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was hitting on me until it was too late.” I finally say.

Ethan scoffs – not amused.

“What are we?” I finally ask, exasperated. As soon as the words spill out of my mouth, I regret them. This was the last thing Ethan would want to talk about with everything going on.

Ethan just stares at me. Looking beautiful and tortured.

“Sorry. Forget I said anything,” my voice trembles and I hate it.

Ethan steps closer. “Are you serious?”

I meet his gaze, but I can’t decipher the emotion in his eye.

“I said forget about it!” I start turning to leave, embarrassed at my outburst. Ethan just pulls me into him and kisses me. I’m too stunned to respond to his kiss, which seems to upset Ethan more as he pushes me into the bathroom sink, kissing me more aggressively. I give in and kiss him back. His tongue quickly starts a tug of war with mine as he deepens the kiss. After a moment of this, I can’t remember what we were arguing about in the first place. All I can think about is the way his mouth moves with mine, effortlessly. His hands on my waist, then lower, cupping my butt. I pull away for a moment, “It’s the teacher’s bathroom,” I said, my voice breathless.

“I don’t give a fuck,” is all he says, as he kisses me once more, then stops, “You asked me a question. I’m making my point.” I try to remember what the question was but then we’re back at it and I forget to remember.

Ethan plops me on top of the sink as we continue kissing. I feel one of his hands on my thigh and then moving slowly up under my skirt.

“Fuck.” He groans against my lips. I smile, knowing that he has realized I’m not wearing underwear.

“This better have been for me and not for that asshole,” he says as his fingers caress my opening.

I look at him, annoyed. Smack him in the chest. “Do you really think I care about Dominic?”

Ethan holds my gaze steadily and my heart flutters. Stupid body. Why do you have to react in the most annoying ways at the worst possible times. Who cares about his beautiful caramel skin and beautiful brown eyes. He is a jerk.

“I hope not.” He finally says.

“What?”

“I hope you don’t care about him. I hope you only care about me.”

My heart speeds up. “I don’t care about him or any other guy.” I start to tell him that he was the only one I care about, but I don’t get a chance to tell him. In that moment, he slips a finger inside of me and I gasp in surprise. Ethan holds my gaze as he slips a second finger in. I let out a shaky breath as he starts moving in and out.

“I’m the only guy who’s allowed to do this, do you understand?” His tone was a mixture of anger and lust. I was holding on to his arms for dear life as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, then he presses on my clitoris with both fingers, which makes me moan involuntarily. I claw my nails into his arms to keep myself together.

“Do you understand?” he asks again. Fighting the ache building up inside me and breathing heavier by the second, I nod.

His fingers stop moving suddenly, leaving with their absence, a vengeful kind of coldness and I whine in protest. “Ethannn”

“Say it.” He demands. I frown at him, annoyed.

“Fine. You’re the only one who is allowed to do this.”

He smirks. “Yeah, I am.”

I think of an insult to throw at him but never get to say it. At my saying what he wants to hear, Ethan’s hands spread my legs apart and he kneels, his head disappearing under my skirt. Still, I’m not prepared for the attack from his tongue.

Ethan’s POV

I’m not proud at how I reacted about that dick hitting on her, but when I walked over and heard him flirting with her and then asking her out… It felt like I was set on fire by some supernatural being. It took all of me not to pummel him right there. The nerve on this fucker; to ask my girl out. But what really fucked me up is that she didn’t immediately reject him. That felt like a stab to the heart. I wanted to burn the whole damn world down.

Once in the bathroom, as we threw angry words at each other I realized what the problem was. We both care too fucking much, but we also hold back even more.

Most of the anger in me dissipates at her words when she finally says what I want to hear, even if she only says them because I told her to. I don’t know how to say the things I want to say, so I decided to show her to the best of my abilities. I drop to my knees and in between her legs and under the shield of her skirt, I kiss her in her wetness. I hear her breathing pick up as I suck at her clit; her hand grabbing at my hair. I groan, turned on even more at the simple gesture. I loved it when she did that.

I pull away and she practically whimpers. “Don’t stop.”

I stand up and look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest moving fast with shallow breaths. I feel more blood rushing to my dick. The pain is almost unbearable now.

“Hang on, baby.” I fumble with the button in my jeans. Once I pull them with my boxers, I let her look at me for a moment, the desire in her eyes just driving me to the edge. I pull her to me for a second, kiss her lips softly and smile.

“Now turn around,” I order.

She looks confused for a second, but she does as she is told. Her doing everything I ask her makes me so fucking horny, she has no idea how much power she has over me. Fueled by an animalistic kind of desire, I guide her to a bending position and hold her hips with both my hands. Without a word, I push myself into her. I see her grab onto the sink to support herself as I drive myself deeper inside her. I give her a moment to get used to the feeling since it’s the first time we have done this.

I can see her flushed face through the mirror and when she makes eye contact with me, I catch the silent plea. At this, I lose whatever is left of my sanity. I plunge myself inside of her. She moans and I follow, as I slip in and out. As I watch our reflections in the mirror, I see when she starts to close her eyes as the pleasure continues to build. I hate the idea of her not looking at me when I’m inside her. I pulled out and turn her around to face me.

“Don’t take your eyes off me.”

I lift her onto the sink again and hold her gaze as I shove my throbbing dick inside her again. At this angle, her head falls back when she screams. I grab her face to make her look at me.

“God, Ethan.” Her reaction eggs me on. I move faster, knowing I have a limited time to make her cum. I was barely hanging on as it is. Our breaths were labored as I continued to fuck her. You could hear her wetness as I moved, but her pussy continued to tighten around me so I knew she was close. I slid out a bit and positioned myself slightly to the left before I pushed myself in again. She screamed, loudly this time. I smiled at finding the right spot and moved faster. This time, as if we were in sync, we came together. Once we rode the wave, breathing heavily, I gently helped her off the sink. After pulling my pants up, I loop my arms around her and rest my sweaty forehead against hers. We both closed our eyes, trying to catch our breath.

“What I was trying to say is… you’re mine.” I finally found the words.

I open my eyes to find her watching me. Her face gets redder. I’m confused for a moment and then realize why she’s upset.

“And I’m yours. I thought that part was obvious.” I say.

Y/N narrows her eyes at me, and I laugh.

“How is that obvious?” she asks.

“I told you how I felt last week. If anything, I’m the only one that should be angry. You never told me how you felt about me.”

“I thought that part was obvious.” She throws the words back at me, her tone playful.

I smile and kiss her deeply.

“So how do you feel about me?” I ask after we stop.

I didn’t want to admit that it had bothered me so much. We’ve spent the last week glued to each other and not once had she brought it up, so I decided to not bring it up and make an even bigger fool out of myself. But the more days passed, the more insecure I became. That’s probably why I lost my mind earlier.

Y/N smiles softly and cups my face with her hands.

“I’ve been crazy about you for I don’t know how long,” she says. I smiled at her words, the heavy feeling in my chest finally easing.

“Me? But I suck,” I say jokingly.

“Yet I’m still in love with you.” She pushes at me gently, embarrassed. I grin like an idiot at her declaration.

I grab her face and kiss her again. Once, twice, three times.

“Ethan,” she giggles. I bury my face in her neck and kiss her there too, holding her tightly against me.

“I love you too.” I say.

When she looks at me, I see stars in eyes.

A knock on the door makes us both jump.

“Shit.”

Y/N POV

“Oh God, we’re going to get expelled.”

Ethan chuckles at this and I smack his arm.

“Just deny everything. They didn’t see anything so it’s their word against ours.”

I shake my head, “But the door was locked.”

“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin up, “You trust me?”

I nod and he smiles.

“Then follow my lead.”

I do. I walk slowly behind him, fighting the soreness in my body and holding on to Ethan’s arm when I notice how shaky my legs are. Ethan looks beside me and realizes. He gives me what seems to be an apologetic smile.

We moved to the door, which was still being knocked on. He turns the lock and opens it.

We’re both surprised to see Paxton standing there, swimming coach uniform on. I don’t think Ethan was prepared to see him of all people. He stays quiet.

Paxton looks at him and then me, almost trying to hide a smile.

“You guys should go. Now. Be thankful it was me.”

I let out a sigh of relief and so did Ethan. We started moving around him and out into the hallway, but Paxton put a hand up to stop me as I was about to walk past him.

“You might want to try being a bit more… discreet next time.” I look at him, confused and he elaborates, stepping closer to not be heard. “You were loud. Like very loud.” I blush furiously at his words and speed away from him. I heard him chucking behind me.

The end of lunch arrives at the sound of the bell and suddenly the empty hallways fill up again, everyone going into classrooms and their lockers to pick up their stuff at the last minute. As we’re moving through the people around us, Ethan’s hand slips into mine and he interlocks our fingers. I quickly looked at him in a question. But he just smiles. We walk to my next classroom, and he walks in with me, hand in hand, even though we don’t share this class. We get to my desk, which coincidentally, is next to Dominic’s. I understand now.

“Thanks for walking me.” I say, shyly. I hear my classmates whistling and adding commentary in the background. I sit down but notice Ethan hasn’t moved from his spot. I look at him in a question. He then bends down and kisses me long. I vaguely hear angry muttering beside me, but I ignore it, lost in the kiss.

“Good afternoon Mr. Morales. I wasn’t aware I had you in this class.” My math teacher had arrived.

Ethan winked at me as he moved away to leave. “I’m out,” he tells my teacher, hands up in surrender, turns around and points at me, “I just wanted to take care of my lady.”

The whole class reacts loudly.

I sink lower into my desk. Still, I smile. He was announcing to the world that we’re together, claiming me in front of everyone. I couldn’t imagine ever being happier than I was in that moment.

The End.

___________________

A/N: Thank you all for reading! You are bomb! Hope you enjoyed this little story of mine. I enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for other fanfics and/or one shots about Ethan. ☺️

Stay awesome, much love xx

#ethan morales #ethan morales fanfic #ethan morales x reader #never have i ever #never have i ever season 4 #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #michael cimino #nhie #nhie s4

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klaprisun · 4 months

Text

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 31

⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️

The two of us burst through the front door of Haley’s house. We were shivering, but still in a fit of giggles. We kept trying to shush each other since Emily is most likely asleep in the other room, but it just made us chuckle more.

We were still dripping with ocean water, so I volunteered to go grab some towels for us from the bathroom.

“They’re just on the shelf in there. You’ll see them when you walk in. I’ll be in my room when you come back,” Haley explains.

“I know where they are from the last time I was in your bathroom,” I give her a little wink, making her recall what went on the last time I was in her bathroom. I guess it was more about the night before we were in the bathroom, but I could tell she knew what I meant due to her blushing.

“Just hurry. I’m freezing,” she shoos me off and I scurry over to the bathroom. I fumble around for the light switch and finally turn it on. Just as I remember, there is a whole shelf of fluffy towels stacked up. I grab two off the shelf and head to Haley’s room. But when I get there, she isn’t around.

“Haley?” I call out loud enough for her to hear, but not enough to wake up Emily.

“In here!” I hear her muffled voice through the door at the back of her room. It was the one she told me was a ‘work in progress’. “Just make sure to close the door quickly behind you!” she shouts again.

Cautiously, I turn the doorknob of the door and pull it open slowly. Sure enough, Haley was standing there waiting for me. Doing as directed, I shut the door behind me.

“Ta da!” she opens her arms wide and gestures to the room. I raise my eyebrow as I take in the room dimly lit by a red light. I can barely make out anything at first due to my eyes not being adjusted to the darkness yet.

“Wow,” I sarcastically say, blinking rapidly a few times to get my eyes to adjust.

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” she chuckles. I know her well enough to know she is rolling her eyes at me.

Finally, I begin to start making out some shapes in the room. I notice a bunch of the same shape hanging from a string across the ceiling. Right in front of me were 3 buckets fitted into the middle of a table. They appear to have water in them, but they are glowing red from the tinted light in the room.

I finally realize the things hanging from the ceiling are a bunch of printed out pictures. I begin to pace alongside the string holding them up, admiring each picture the best I can in the darkness.

“Welcome to my brand new dark room!” she exclaimed excitedly. She follows along behind me as I continue to admire the pictures strung up. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, Haley. I’ve never seen a dark room in person before,” I drag my finger along the edge of one of the water buckets. I then put both my hands on the edge of the table around the buckets and lean, holding myself up by my arms.

“You really have a thing for me, huh?” I question her.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Haley stutters.

“I have eyes, you know. I can see what’s in all of your pictures,” I smirk at her, still leaning on the table.

There were many pictures of our day at Marnie’s farm strung up. There were more candid pictures of me than there were of anything else. Even in the low light, I can tell that the pictures she took of me made me look the best I have ever looked.

“Well you are just a great model,” she replies as she walks over to one of the pictures and studies it. I stand up from the table and walk over to stand behind her. I noticed the picture she was looking at was one of me looking down at something while rolling up the sleeves of my flannel. Each muscle of my arm was visible even through the sleeve of the flannel.

“Um…so, anyway… what do you want to do?” she turns to ask me, sounding a bit nervous. I was standing so close behind her, that when she turned around we were face to face. I feel her breath quicken when she surveys how close our faces are.

“Well I could say I could help you decorate in here, add some final touches and more decor…” I breathe out, as I slowly creep my hand up the side of her thigh.

“Or…?” she looks down at my hand tracing along her exposed skin on her thigh.

“Or I could do this…” I bring my hand up and cup it against her cheek and jaw. I meet her eyes for a quick second to judge how she is feeling. Her eyes stare back at mine in a needy, desire kind of way. I take that as my sign and immediately bring my lips down to hers, not being able to take another minute of this tension.

Without hesitation, she matches the pace of my lips, moving hers effortlessly with mine. I feel her hands float up and wrap around my neck, holding me in place.

“Oh Danny,” she moans between kisses, “I’ve been waiting so long for you to do this.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” I say breathlessly. Just as I try to go back for more, she pauses.

“One moment…” She steps out of my hold and dances over to the wall. I watch as she flicks a switch on the wall, causing the majority of the red lighting to go out. Only a single, faint, red light in the corner remains.

“Okay. I’m good now,” Haley rushes back into my embrace. This time, she is the one to go in for a kiss. Not missing a beat, I swoop down and meet her lips. I begin to slowly back her up a couple of steps to the table, not breaking away.

When I feel her waist meet the edge of the table, I wrap one of my arms around her waist and lift her up so she is sitting with me between her legs. It gave us enough time to take a few quick breaths, but we urgently went back in for more.

I have both hands rubbing along each of her thighs now, nearly pushing the hem of her dress all the way up. She has her fingers hooked into my belt loops, keeping my hips pressed tightly against her.

I feel her let go of my belt loops, and onto the collar of my flannel. She slowly slides down to the first button of my flannel next. There is a bit of tugging and fumbling, but it soon comes loose. She repeats the same motions all the way down my shirt until each button is undone.

I don’t dare stop her as she tugs my flannel loose from my body and tosses it somewhere in the room. She begins to explore the bare skin of my upper body with her hands, tracing them along every crevice and curve. She soon feels bold enough to bring her hands up to my sports bra strap. As she does, I feel her heart begin to pound in her chest.

Testing her reaction, I end up bringing my hands all the way up her dress, causing it to lift up to her stomach. I pull back to gauge my limits and see how she is feeling. She gives me a nod and even slides it the rest of the way off and over her head for me, causing her to have to shake her hair back into place.

I can only stare at how gorgeous she looks, sitting so dainty on the table with me between her legs. My eyes widen as I notice she has matching baby blue, lace panties and bra on. That sly dog. She knew this was going to happen, but that only turns me on more.

She had tossed her dress somewhere in the room along with my flannel, both no longer to be seen for the rest of the night.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper into her ear as I lean tight against her body. She lets out a little giggle as I trail kisses down her jawline. The kisses down her jawline quickly turn to kisses down her neck, then to kisses just above her breasts.

I get tired of bending weirdly, so I spin her around on the table so she is stretched out the long way, and join her on the table. I hover above her as I continue to kiss just above her breasts. Her hands have found my belt loops once again, but not for long because I notice her unbutton my shorts. I freeze once I feel my shorts loosen around my waist, realizing what she has done.

“Take ‘em off,” she whispers in my ear, wrapping her arms around my neck again.

“Yes ma’am,” I obediently start sliding my shorts off and toss them aside. I bring my lips back to hers, missing them already. Her hands slide up and down my back, slipping them under the back of my sports bra every now and then.

I begin to trail kisses down her body again, this time going to just above her panties. I drag my tongue up her stomach, causing her to squirm. I give a few playful bites along her stomach as well, making her squirm even more.

I find myself back at her breasts. Her bra is still on, but I kind of flick between her eyes and her bra as if asking permission to take it off. She gives me a knowing smirk and arches her back so I can get the clasp. I dive right for it, undoing it with no struggles.

She slides the straps down her shoulders slowly, building anticipation. Once off, she loops a strap around her finger and flicks the bra away. Shamelessly, I just stare at her bare breasts. She was posed so gracefully underneath me. Her hair was sprawled across the table around her head, her arms were stretched overhead, and her body just looked so perfect. She looked like a painting made by the most talented artist on earth.

Without wasting another second, I bring my hands up to caress her breasts, bringing my lips down to join them. She starts moaning in pleasure, twisting her hands into my hair. Her hands then find their way back to my sports bra. Her movements are kind of hesitant and cautious, but she quickly recovers and brings my bra up my chest. I pause what I’m doing and lift the bra the rest of the way, causing her mouth to involuntarily open.

“Yoba, you are so hot,” she moans as she takes in the flex of my muscles as I bring the bra over my head. Her eyes trail down the rest of my naked torso, lingering on my chest and stomach. I swear she is nearly salivating at the sight of me.

Leaning back down over her, I bring my hand down to her thigh. We both watch my hand travel down that way, our breathing speeding up even more than it already is. I dance my hand around her thighs, and slowly make my way to the fabric of her panties. I look back at her to see she is still watching my hand, biting her lip. I carefully dance my fingers to the waistband and slide my hands underneath it. She bites down on her lip harder and she closes her eyes, waiting for my fingers to finally make contact with her clit. When I hold my hand in place and don’t move any further, she opens her eyes and looks up at me.

“Are you sure you are okay with this?” I double check, not wanting to push her too far.

“Absolutely I am,” she grabs my chin and brings my lips down to hers. I feel her tongue part my lips this time, getting more intense with the kiss. I move my hand farther down her panties just the way she hoped for.

When my fingers finally met her clit, she was already dripping wet making for easy movements of my fingers. She moans against my lips, spreading her legs further apart for me.

“Can I take these off?” I snap the band of her panties against her waist. She nods in agreement, not breaking her concentration from the movement of my fingers. I stop for just a second to take the last of her clothing off, and go right back to what I was doing.

After a few seconds of just moving my fingers around her clit, I gently start pumping a finger into her. She arches her back a bit, letting out a little gasp. One finger soon becomes two, causing her to start squirming from pleasure.

“Danny…” she moans, fighting to not make too much noise.

“Haley…” I whisper back, causing her to whimper. Not too long after, I feel her start throbbing against my fingers. She grabs at my back and digs her nails in. She tilts her head back and lets out a gasp. I quicken the pace, and softly cover her mouth with my free hand with a smirk on my face. Emily is asleep in the house, we can’t be too loud.

She relaxes her body and slows her breathing down, so I move my hand from her mouth and remove my fingers. I watch her face as she tries to recollect her thoughts and morals.

She sits up on her arms and just stares at me straddling her legs. I lick my two fingers clean, which causes her jaw to drop. I shoot her a wink.

“I’ve never…had that so good…ever,” she sighs, still trying to catch her breath.

“That’s cause you’ve never had it done by a girl, pretty lady,” I smack the side of her thigh twice and slide off the table. Chivalrously, I begin to find her undergarments first. I come across what feels to be hers, and allow her to step into the leg holes of her underwear. She slides off the table and I yank them all the way up for her. I then hold the straps of her bra up and she waves me off.

“I won’t be needing that for the rest of the night. It’s pajama time,” she finds my flannel, bra and shorts from the ground and hands them to me. “However, I don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you… so you better hope nobody walks in on us sleeping.”

“So you get cute little pjs and I have to sleep naked?” I tease.

“I’m not complaining,” she winks as the two of us leave the dark room.

“Mmm neither am I. I doubt those little pjs are staying on long anyway,” I flop onto her bed, tossing my clothes aside.

“In your dreams,” she shoots back.

“It sure will be,” I chuckle. She slips on a light pink nightgown and gets into bed with me.

“That was nice,” Haley whispers after a few moments of silence, blushing immensely.

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introspectivememories · 9 months

Text

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.) (AO3 LINK)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out.

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry.

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up.

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands.

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file.

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.”

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie)#anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club!#currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him'#also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision?#also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club!#it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died???#i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much.#also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill.#also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them.#also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

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lynnettys-world · 6 months

Text

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Three – Noona}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

Rated (M) for mature

Words: 4k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF MENTAL TRAUMA, (MILD) PANIC ATTACK AND PROFANITY. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION

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MATERIALIST

Taehyung's POV

The shock I felt was overwhelming, to say the least.

Why was she going against everything we've been taught? As hybrids, our purpose has always been crystal clear - to serve humans obediently and to seek their approval and attention.

Yet here she stood, challenging the very foundation of our existence. She advocated for our freedom, for the recognition of our worth as equals in a society that had always viewed us as mere possessions.

I couldn't help but question her motives. Was she naive, idealistic, or perhaps just brave beyond measure? And where did that leave the rest of us who had long accepted our subjugated status without resistance?

Lost in contemplation, I was taken aback when she appeared before me, concern etched across her features.

"Taehyung, are you alright? You seemed lost in thought," she inquired, her eyes reflecting a genuine worry that tugged at my emotions.

In that moment, I longed to seek solace in her embrace, to share the turmoil brewing within me. For I was far from okay, and the realization of our oppressed existence weighed heavily on my heart.

Being owned and exploited had been our norm – a perpetual cycle of submission that had stifled any flicker of rebellion within us. The dream of freedom, of being recognized and respected, had seemed like a distant, unattainable fantasy.

But her words, her actions... Perhaps they held the promise of a new dawn, a ray of hope amidst the darkness of our existence. Maybe, just maybe, today marked the beginning of a revolution long overdue.

As uncertainty mingled with hope within me, I couldn't help but wonder,

Was this really a path we desired to tread, one filled with unknown challenges and risks? Or was it a leap into a future where our voices could finally be heard, our identities no longer defined by the chains of servitude?

The answers eluded me, shrouded in the complexity of our reality. And as I stood there, grappling with conflicting emotions, one thing became clear – the winds of change were blowing, and we stood at the precipice of a choice that could redefine our very existence.

Heaven's POV

After carefully observing them, I realized that their appearance was not necessarily extravagant, but it was the emotions they displayed that caught my attention.

I could sense that they held great potential within them, waiting to be unlocked and showcased to the world.

I felt a strong determination to help them harness the talents and capabilities that lay dormant within them. They deserved a chance to shine and I was determined to make that happen.

In order to make them feel more comfortable and cared for, I called one of my guards to bring them some fresh clothes. It didn't sit right with me to see them in their current state, and I wanted to provide them with a sense of dignity and respect.

Shortly after my request, there was a knock on the door. I welcomed my guards into the room as they entered with multiple bags of clean, brand new clothes.

Their promptness and attention to detail reflected the level of care and professionalism that I expected from my staff.

"Ms. Valentino, here are the clothes you requested. They are clean and brand new, just as you specified," one of the guards informed me. I expressed my gratitude towards them and instructed them to also prepare seven double beds for our guests.

I began to envision the transformation that awaited them once they were given the necessary resources and support.

With determination and a compassionate heart, I was ready to guide them towards their full potential and help them realize the greatness that I saw within each of them.

I could feel several pairs of eyes on me as I stood there, commanding attention from them but I shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“Okay, uhm, how about you all take a shower, dress up, and wait for your beds,” I said with a warm smile, trying to make them feel comfortable in this new setting.

They didn't budge, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Well, this was just the beginning for them. They were about to get pampered in ways they never imagined.

I caught Jimin's eye, and when he quickly averted his gaze, I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Jimin?” I called out softly, making him tense up before slowly meeting my eyes again.

I gave them a piece of advice, emphasizing the importance of holding their heads high and never showing submission to anyone. I wanted them to be confident, to never let anyone look down on them.

Taehyung was the first to stand up, a glimmer of determination in his eyes as he approached me, trying to break free from his ingrained habits.

It was progress, even if it was just a small step forward.

“Thank you mas-- H-Heaven, I promise that on behalf of me and my pack, we will try not to show submission and break through our conditioning,” Taehyung's voice was firm, filled with determination to change.

I couldn't help but smile at his dedication. It was going to be a journey for them to embrace their true nature, and I was ready to guide them every step of the way.

As their protector and their link to the Valentino family, I made it clear that they were safe under my watch. No harm would come to them, not now, not ever.

“I'm glad, but let's not forget the practical stuff. Could you guys shower and dress up, please?” I added, feeling a bit awkward at the prolonged exposure to naked bodies.

The scene was chaotic as they frantically tried to locate the bathroom.

Their confusion was evident as they scurried in different directions. I couldn't help but chuckle at their adorable bewilderment, finding amusement in their predicament.

Not wanting them to endure any more embarrassment, I took it upon myself to guide them to the bathroom, offering a sense of relief amidst the chaos.

As I directed them, I made sure to inform them about the specific toiletries I had prepared for their use.

Understanding the sensitivity of their skin to human products, I had purchased hybrid-friendly soap and body lotion, keeping their well-being in mind. New toothbrushes were also made available in the cupboards for their convenience.

To further put them at ease, I encouraged them to choose clothing from the bags I had set out, assuring them that they could change after they had showered.

However, it came as a surprise to me when I discovered that they had never used a shower before. My heart went out to them as I realized the foreignness of such a mundane activity for them.

It saddened me to think that they were unfamiliar with the concept of taking a shower, highlighting the stark differences between our species.

The fact that something as basic as personal hygiene could be a new and potentially overwhelming experience for them tugged at my heartstrings. It served as a poignant reminder of the privileges I often took for granted.

After demonstrating how to operate the shower, I left them on their own, granting them the privacy they deserved.

Retreating to the living room of the suite, as I waited for the beds.

As I sat in the living room, my thoughts lingered on the cultural and physical barriers that separated us, prompting a sense of empathy and compassion for their vulnerable state.

~An Hour Later~

The boys were now clean and dressed, they looked absolutely breathtaking.

I mean, if they were good-looking before, now they were on a whole other level of beauty, they could pass for models on the front page of vogue magazines.

They were all rocking simple, casual outfits, but they somehow managed to make them look so stylish and chic. I couldn't help but admire how effortlessly cool they all looked.

"Okay, now that you guys are all clean and dressed, who's hungry?" I asked them, feeling excited about our little mealtime.

Hoseok timidly raised his hand without meeting my eyes. It was adorable how he was trying to be subtle about it.

"Yes, Hobi, what can I get for you?" I inquired, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

His reaction was priceless. His eyes widened, cheeks turning a cute shade of red as he stammered out his request.

"C-can I get w-what you're having, mas– Heaven?"

Gosh, he was just too precious.

"Aww, Hobi, sweetheart, you don't have to be so polite. Order whatever you want, and I'll make sure you get it. And if you want to have the same as me, that's totally fine too. Same goes for all of you, alright?" I reassured them with a warm smile.

Seeing them all nodding in agreement made my heart melt. They were just too adorable for words.

I wasted no time in calling Min-Soo for some food delivery, and just like that, he was at our doorstep in no time. Seriously, did this guy have superhuman speed or what?

"Hello, Min-Soo. My hybrids and I are hungry. Where's the restaurant?" I asked him, my voice coming out emotionless but eager, ready to fill our bellies.

"I'm sorry miss Valentino but the kitchen is closed and will only be open at seven in the morning" He said.

The restaurant is closed, which is beyond frustrating. I mean, who closes a restaurant at such a crazy time? Especially when they host late night events, which end at two in the morning.

Annoyed at the inconvenience, I dismissed Min-Soo with a sharp word and closed the door firmly behind him. Turning back to my hybrids, I noticed they were all staring at me in bewilderment.

What? Did I say something?

“Are you guys okay?” I asked, my tone unintentionally brusque.

But they all silently stared at me.

Weird.

Until it clicked.

"Oh, sorry, I hate insolence, it gets on my nerves," I remarked, deflecting the intensity of the situation with a casual shrug.

"Hello? Yes could you please bring in some food…" I talked to my guards as I took time to ask the boys what they want before hanging up.

In the faint light of the room, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the boys' imposing muscular bodies and the visible outline of their ribs, a telltale sign of malnourishment.

It tugged at my heart, a reminder of the struggles they must have faced.

As I stepped further into the room, their gazes bore into me, making me feel incredibly small despite my own confidence.

It wasn't just their sheer size or height that intimidated me, it was the way they stood in a rigid, almost defensive formation, like a wall closing in around me.

The hybrids seemed to exude a certain unpredictability that kept me slightly on edge.

Feeling the tension in the room, I tried to break the silence,

"As we wait for our food, why don't we do something?"

Jin, the lion hybrid, approached me with measured steps, his presence commanding attention.

There was an unspoken intensity in his voice that gave me pause, a hint of something hidden beneath the surface.

"What should we do?" His voice was laced with an unidentifiable undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.

I found myself faltering, unsure of how to interpret the weight behind his words.

Locking eyes with Jin, I noticed the darkness that seemed to swirl within them, a silent mystery that left me unsettled.

I realized then that he had been unusually quiet since our encounter began, a fact that added to his enigmatic aura.

Just as the tension peaked, a disruptive cough cut through the thick atmosphere, jolting us back to reality.

In that fleeting moment, the veil of darkness that shrouded Jin's eyes lifted, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of strength.

What was that? It seemed like he was trying to figure something out, I could feel it.

The raw and undeniable fear.

Was he testing me, by trying to intimidate me?

Confusion and curiosity warred within me as I tried to make sense of the sudden shift in dynamics.

"C-can you please scratch my e-ears?" Jin's bashful request was just the tip of the iceberg in the dynamics among the hybrids.

The way he timidly approached me with that innocent look in his eyes, contrasting with the powerful aura he previously exuded, was quite a sight to behold.

As I gently ran my fingers through his hair and scratched his ears, the pure joy that washed over his face was undeniable.

The way he leaned into my touch, seeking more closeness, was endearing beyond words. It was a reminder of the simple pleasures in life that these hybrids had been deprived of for so long.

"Have you never been given pets?" I asked slightly amused.

He shakes his head no and that breaks my heart.

The fact that he and probably the rest of the boys had never experienced such a simple form of affection before was both heartwarming and heartbreaking.

It made me realize just how much they had missed out on in terms of basic care and love.

Observing the eagerness in the eyes of the other hybrids, I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility weighing on me.

I had spent countless hours studying about hybrids, their behaviors, needs, and desires.

Hybrids, as I had learned, were not just creatures to be feared or controlled. They were beings capable of deep emotions, forming bonds, and seeking out the warmth of touch and affection.

It was a side of them that many failed to see, overshadowed by their predatory instincts and fierce appearance.

So, when the other hybrids clamored around me, their eyes pleading for the same attention and care that Jin had received, I couldn't help but laugh at the sudden rush of demand for pets and cuddles.

It was a stark reminder of just how starved they were for these simple acts of kindness.

Without hesitation, I welcomed them into the circle, giving each of them the ear scratches and pets they had been longing for.

The way their eyes lit up, their bodies relaxing under my touch, was a testament to the power of affection and care.

In that moment, surrounded by these powerful yet vulnerable beings, I knew that I had found my purpose.

To be the one who would give them everything they had been denied, to show them that in a world filled with darkness, there was still light and warmth to be found in simple gestures of love and kindness.

I noticed only six of them came to me, their fluffy fur shimmering in the dim light of the room. They wagged their tails, eager for attention and pets.

I looked around and saw the seventh one standing alone in a corner, his eyes fixed on us but his body language distant, almost wary.

After I had finished giving the last hybrid his pets, I walked toward the seventh one cautiously.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, a hint of concern creeping into my voice as I approached him.

He seemed a bit shaken, but his expression remained neutral.

"Yes," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind.

I sensed something beneath the surface, a tension that made me worry for him even more. "Are you certain? You don't seem..." I trailed off as he suddenly cut me off, his voice sharp and accusing.

"I SAID I'M FINE! YOU DON'T NEED TO PRETEND THAT YOU CARE ABOUT ME OR ANY OF US!!" He exclaimed, his words cutting through the room and capturing the attention of the other hybrids.

His outburst caught me off guard, his voice starkly different from the gentle tones I had heard before. I felt a surge of confusion and a tinge of hurt. Why did he think I was pretending?

“What are you talking about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper in the tense atmosphere.

His words came rushing out, filled with anger and pain.

"Oh, cut your bullshit, no human is nice. You all are just sick solipsistic, power-starved, sex-hungry beings that want to use hybrids to feel superior. I know all of this is solely a ploy for us to trust you, only to betray us in the end and inflict unimaginable suffering on us!"

Tears streamed down his face, his anguish palpable in the room. I stood there, struck by the intensity of his accusations and the depth of his despair. His words stung, painting a picture of humanity that I couldn't bear to see reflected in his eyes.

As the weight of his words settled around us, I realized the importance of listening, truly listening, to his pain and fears.

This wasn't just an outburst, it was a cry for understanding and empathy in a world that had shown him nothing but cruelty and distrust.

I took a step closer, a silent promise in my heart to prove him wrong and to show him that not all humans are the monsters he believed us to be.

The situation was heartbreaking, to say the least. It was evident that he wasn't just dealing with anger or frustration, no, he was battling deep-rooted pain, scars that ran far beneath the surface.

His anguish transcended mere emotions, it was a haunting blend of hurt, fear, and utter terror.

And who could blame him, or any of them for that matter?

After enduring such torment for an extended period, even the most joyful individual can find themselves in the shadowy depths of despair.

The quiet ones, those who bear their burdens in silence, are not exempt either, eventually, the weight becomes too much to bear.

It all boils down to a matter of endurance, of how much one can bear and for how long. For him, for all of them huddled in that dimly lit room, they had reached their breaking point.

The seams of their collective resilience were unraveling, frayed threads of composure coming undone in a tumultuous display of raw emotion.

As I cautiously approached him, offering a gesture of comfort, he recoiled, a pained scream tearing through the heavy air.

"NO, NO, NO, BACK AWAY FROM ME," his voice cracked with anguish, the words punctuated by gasps for air.

His desperate plea to keep his distance, to spare him from further distress, echoed off the walls in a wrenching crescendo of agony.

"DON'T TOUCH ME, PLEASE, I'M SO TIRED OF THIS!! PLEASE, DON'T DO IT, D-DON'T DO I-IT."

The desperation in his voice was palpable, a visceral reminder of the turmoil festering within his shattered psyche.

I could see the torment etched in every line of his face, the anguish that had driven him to this precipice of despair.

With a gut-wrenching cry, he twisted his fingers into a tight grip, his knuckles white with strain. His back pressed against the unforgiving wall, he sank to the floor, the weight of his suffering bowing him down to the ground.

A lump formed in my throat, a bitter taste of helplessness settling in the pit of my stomach as I bore witness to his unraveling.

The sight was almost too much to bear, a tableau of anguish that seared itself into my mind's eye.

He was a man besieged, haunted by ghosts that only he could see. What unspeakable horrors had he endured, what demons lurked in the darkest recesses of his mind?

My heart ached for him, a silent cry of empathy for a soul adrift in a sea of pain.

As he began to scratch at his skin, the telltale signs of a panic attack setting in, my heart clenched with a sense of impending dread.

The frantic energy that coursed through him, the feral need to escape his own skin, painted a stark portrait of a mind in turmoil.

In that moment, all I could do was bear witness, a silent sentinel in the face of a storm that threatened to consume us all. The air was thick with unspoken anguish, a heavy shroud of despair that cloaked us in its suffocating embrace.

As I took the risk and wrapped my arms around the hybrid, a wave of emotions and thoughts flooded my mind.

The danger of being so close to a hybrid in such volatile tendencies lingered in the back of my head, but my concern for his well-being overshadowed any fear I felt.

The bond that seemed to have formed between us, seven males and myself, appeared almost predestined, as if our meeting was written in the stars.

To outsiders, my actions might seem irrational or even foolish, but deep within me, there was an unexplainable pull towards these individuals.

Their vulnerabilities and struggles tugged at my heartstrings, compelling me to protect and nurture them. The connection I felt with the hybrid in my embrace was undeniable, despite the risks involved.

As he held me tightly, I could sense his turmoil and pain. It was a moment of raw emotions, where words seemed inadequate.

Yet, I found myself making promises, vowing to shield them from any harm that may come their way. My voice quivered with determination as I declared my commitment to safeguard their autonomy and ensure they led a life free of suffering.

"It's okay, sweetie," I whispered, the weight of my promise heavy in the air.

"I swear on my life that no harm will befall you or any of the others. Your life, your choices – no one will infringe upon them. I will earn your trust and build a shield around you, protecting you from the darkness that once plagued your existence. Your future is bright, and I will not allow anyone, including myself, to cast a shadow over it."

In that moment, my resolve solidified, fueled by a mix of defiance and solemnity.

I knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but my conviction to safeguard these individuals was unwavering.

With every beat of my heart, I vowed to be their protector, their guardian, standing firm against any threat that dared to approach them.

And as we stood there, locked in an embrace that transcended words, I knew that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with unwavering loyalty and unbreakable bonds.

The male's once tense demeanor visibly softened, though he still clung onto me tightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck. The desperation in his actions was palpable.

Glancing around, I realized that the others, who had been ominously silent until now, were all watching us intently. Despite their stoic expressions, the fear and weariness in their eyes betrayed their facade of indifference.

Turning my gaze back to the hybrid, I felt a shiver run down my spine as he held onto me with a fierce grip. His sudden intake of breath as he whispered in a low, guttural voice sent a chill down my spine.

"Noona"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey, lovely readers!

I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the story so far. I'm eager to hear your thoughts on this latest chapter.

Did you predict which hybrid would burst out? Were you surprised by the twist, or did you see it coming?

Your feedback means a lot to me, so please drop a comment below and share your thoughts. And remember to reblog the story if you're hooked and want to show your support.

Your enthusiasm and engagement truly make my day, so thank you in advance for taking the time to read, comment, and reblog.

Every interaction with my work means the world to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

So, whether you're reading this in the tranquility of the night or the hustle and bustle of the day, I hope you're having a wonderful time.

And to all my beautiful butterflies out there, thank you for fluttering through these pages with me.

Your presence adds magic to this journey, and I'm grateful for your companionship. You're all awesome and fabulous, and your support fuels my creative spirit.

Sending love and inspiration your way,

Author-nim.

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody @strawblueberrys

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choosingwhatmatters · 29 days

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Music in The Loyal Pin, Episode 4

Welcome back to my music rambles. Buckle up, creampuffs, this is going to be a long one. Luckily, it was very easy to structure. Let me tell you about four different types of kisses.

Handkiss – Big emotions

Last week I talked about a piece I call “Big emotions.” It is connected to situations in which our princesses (Pin is the princess of my heart, and nobody can take that title away from her) have a lot of feelings. Snake bites. Tears on letters. Happy reunions. And, in this episode, giddy memories of a kiss to the cheek, as well as the angry chuckage of rocks into a pond.

Although this piece sounds relatively tame, there’s a lot going on in the music, especially the harmonies. A harmony consists of all the notes that accompany the melody at any given time of a piece, plus the notes of the melody itself. Harmonies are the melody’s clothing. They are the bed in which the melody stretches and writhes.

Usually, there is one harmony that everything comes back to. Some call it first chord; some call it tonic. I call it home. Our piece starts out at home in D major. So far, so snug. But then, suddenly, there’s a c in the accompaniment and the first music theorists are already raising their eyebrows: there’s no c in the D major scale. The music is trying to throw us off balance. The whole phrase is repeated and then there’s even more shenanigans in the harmonies. First we greet a chord that is a welcome guest in the house of D major: B minor, its sad little sibling. But suddenly, B flat major appears. A foreigner! Not one, but two notes that do not belong to the D major scale. B flat major waves through the open door before the melody comes to rest in A major, another regular in the household, and there it stays without ever going back to D major.

The whole thing happens in the span of seconds, but it leaves us with several instances of startled surprise and a quality of unfinished-ness. Much like a character grappling with a big emotion, our ears must come to terms with what we’ve just heard.

We hear the melody of the piece one last time at the end of the episode, when Anil is kissing Pin’s hand. It’s only the beginning of the melody, and there’s hardly any accompaniment. No harmonies to throw us off guard. The piece only lasts for a few seconds, hinting at big emotions to come before it floats away.

Butterfly kiss – Anil’s theme

Anil’s theme has undergone a lot of changes in the course of the first four episode. It starts out as a sweet, playful melody that matches Pin’s wistful one. It is often played by a glockenspiel but is fully orchestrated in moments in which Anil twirls for her family. Or sneakily returns from the UK without anyone knowing.

Anil brings back with her a new version of her motif. This one we can hear when she is plotting against the men in Pin’s life or manipulating those around her. Instead of the usual, cheery major scale we’re used to, we can hear the melody in a minor scale. Minor scales tend to sound melancholic or sad. In the piece at hand, the melody sounds sinister which, again, goes back to the harmonies underneath. Harmonies are powerful allies and even more formidable foes.

In episode 4, we can hear the minor version of Anil’s motif when she schemes against Kuea, shortly after being interrupted at the pond with Pin. We hear it again when Pin remembers Pranot trying to kiss Anil’s hand.

And then there’s a brand-new version of the motif when Pin learns about the butterfly kiss.

The time signature is different now. Instead of our usual 4/4 time, we are in 3/4 time. This time measure often has a waltz-y, swaying quality to it. Together with an airy keyboard sound I cannot identify, the whole thing sounds whimsical and innocent. Anil’s theme glistens in silvery glockenspiel notes above this soundscape in a high octave. We are putting a pin (heh) in this fact, namely the use of the glockenspiel and the high pitch.

Lip kiss – Pin’s theme

Pin’s theme is a constant in the first four episodes. Sometimes we can hear the whole piece, sometimes it’s just the first three notes, but it’s everywhere. It hardly changes.

Up until that fateful moment in episode 3, when Pin becomes aware of her heartbeat when she is massaging Anil. The melody evolves. There are more notes and shorter note values. The same thing happens when Anil kisses Pin’s lips.

Y’all, I don’t even know where to start gushing because this is so beautiful. As Pin has these life-changing experiences, her melody expands. It’s played by a glockenspiel now, the same instrument that has been mostly Anil’s up until that point. The tempo is off, restless. It doesn’t fit the accompaniment. Yet. Something shook Pin’s world, and she has yet to regain balance.

French kiss – Pentatonic flourish

In my last post, I promised to take a look at the pentatonic shenanigans that happen every time Anil and Pin are close. When Pin massages Anil. When Anil smells Pin’s hair. When Anil draws Pin close at the pond. When Anil kisses Pin in a way from which there is no return. Semi-quavers are drizzling on our eardrums, the measure is almost undeterminable.

Pin’s theme is back to its usual piano, but it's off beat now. Accomplished, less tame. Then Anil explains the French kiss to her and leans in a second time. The accompaniment narrows to one sequence that is repeated time and again, and once more there's Pin's theme, off beat. She has found her confidence. She is part of the music, and part of something even more beautiful.

Remember the other pin I was talking about earlier? How, during the butterfly kiss, Anil’s theme is played on the glockenspiel in a high octave? Well, during the French kiss, we can hear the first three notes of Anil’s theme, on the piano. Just as Pin has borrowed Anil’s instrument, Anil is now borrowing Pin’s, and even more importantly: they're on the same instrument now. Both of their themes are reduced to the first few notes, Anil's in a low octave that we haven't heard before. The low pitch has a calming quality. It provides the foundation for the last two high piano notes: the first note of Pin's theme, played twice. In my head, Pin is saying "I ... I ...," without even knowing how to finish that sentence, and instead giving up. Giving in.

Dear friends ... this show is so bloody beautiful! I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’ve spent way too much time revelling in the soundscape of this episode, and I regret nothing. If the show ended now, there would still be heaps of things to talk about. But it's not ending. It's just starting out and that is making my undescribably happy.

The fact that the premise of the show seems designed for me (sapphic, historical, South-East Asian) tells me that The Loyal Pin is not the most lucrative story to tell. To have hundreds of people dedicating time, work and skill into telling this story, supported by the Ministry of Commerce, no less, leaves me in tears. What a journey! Thank you for travelling with me!

#long post #sorry again for the quality of the soundclips #if I had recorded everything the way I wanted to #this post would have been published around christmas #if at all #thank you so much for reading #this show y'all #this show #the loyal pin #thai love you #Utsch choosing music

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thefalloutwiki · 2 months

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The Independent Fallout Wiki is proud and excited to host the Fallout London Wiki- and are now ramping up to get the show on the road!

Everyone is welcome to contribute in our brand new ⁠fallout london pages and on the site's dropdown you will see article-creation templates made just for the mod's content.

As soon as the mod releases, we will be importing pre-prepared previously-private content on to the wiki for everyone to enjoy and begin adding to! Stay tuned for updates!

#fallout #fallout wiki #independent fallout wiki #fallout series #fallout 4 #fallout london #team folon #folon

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darcylewisbingohq · 4 months

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2024 Darcy Lewis Bingo Headquarters

Welcome back to Darcy Lewis Bingo Headquarters, friends and Darcy fans, and to the beginning of our 2024 bingo round! We’re looking forward to seeing our bingo friends from rounds past return again and we’re delighted to welcome new Darcy Lewis Bingo creators, too!

We’re trying some new things this year, beginning with our Darcy Bingo creator card for writers and artists and fannish creators of all sorts. After a successful soft-launch of a new prompt format during our Halloween bingo event last year, we’ve decided to go all in for 2024 on this new format for our Darcy Lewis Bingo 2024 creator cards. We’ll explain more about the exciting changes to the creator bingo card in the all new bingo guidelines below, but rest assured, friends, you’ll still have several fun ways to curate your prompts and creator bingo card this round. Only the method has changed to streamline and deliver curated prompts into your hands faster than we’ve ever been able to before.

We’re also introducing our first ever Darcy Lewis Bingo HQ Reader Bingo Event. Reader Bingo Guidelines will arrive here on our tumblr blog in just a few days. For now, let’s take a look at the new bingo guidelines, the 2024 bingo card, and talk about curating prompts for your bingo card, Darcy creators…

2024 Darcy Lewis Bingo Guidelines for Creators

Brand new format!—NEW for 2024, DLBHQ creator cards got streamlined for this round thanks to a successful experiment with the new this-or-that prompt format we trialed on our 2023 mini bingo Halloween event cards. Our new creator bingo card allows you to curate your card at a glance just to start, no need to request prompt changes before you can begin creating fanworks because every square on your card already begins with 2 prompt choices so you can curate your own ideal bingo card as soon as you finish reading these guidelines.

Squares—Your creator bingo card still has just 25 squares, now with 2 prompts on every square for you to choose from. The center square on your card also now features 2 prompts to choose from—FREE SPACE or AVENGERS ASSEMBLE. The choice of which to use and how to use them is yours. Any version of Avengers Assemble fills the prompt if you use it in a fannish work. You can still use the center square as a free space, but if that doesn’t inspire you to use it, you can use the 2nd prompt in that square, Avengers Assemble, like any other prompt on your card to inspire a new fanwork or new update to a fanwork.

Prompts—Prompts on the new creator card are all Darcy-centric to begin the round, meaning they’re derived from Dr. Darcy Lewis’ appearances in the MCU, many recent, but with familiar throwbacks to her early appearances, too. You need not have seen the newest films or shows featuring Darcy to use any of the prompts or to participate in this bingo. Prompts are only intended to inspire new fanworks. You are welcome to use them to write stories about everyone living in the tower or go all the way back to Puente Antiguo and the beginning of Darcy’s MCU journey. Or create entirely new AUs! It’s up to you. Note: Every bingo creator card bears 50 total Darcy-centric prompt options now, allowing you to curate your creator bingo card hundreds of different ways even before our curated prompt request form opens for this round. You can use the Darcy Bingo creator card attached at the end of this post to start writing today.

Fills—Aesthetics, drabbles, one-shots, multichaptered fics, series, drawings, paintings, sculptures, social media AUs, gif edits, video edits, moodboards, coloring pages, playlists, new additions to pre-existing series, and new updates to pre-existing fanworks are all accepted fills.

Truly, ANY CREATION inspired by your prompt counts.

Cosplay as Darcy, make it fit your prompt somehow, and take a selfie for the fill—we’ll count that, too. We’d also love to see you Darcybounding irl.

(A little fannish history sidenote on character-bounding: With the rise of popularity in cosplaying the past 10-15 years, the practice of guest cosplaying is no longer permitted or politely ignored within Disney Parks in order to add an extra layer of protection for impressionable children who can’t tell the difference between professional face character actors and adult guests in heroic cosplay. When cosplay in the parks was ‘outlawed’ for adults, Disneybounding was born to fill a certain fannish niche without breaking Disney’s park rules or getting frogmarched out of the parks. Or worse—banned from them forever. Character-bounding, or the generally more popular, Disneybounding, is a type of character dress-up that’s like cosplay, but you don’t literally dress up as the character in a costume identical to theirs as worn on screen. Character-bounding is similar to cosplay, but it’s more like a character dressed in modern street clothes that can’t be accidentally mistaken for a face character actor at a Disney Park playing a mythical princess or famous hero.

If you’re curious about the practice of Disneybounding or want to try your hand at Darcybounding some of your bingo fills this round, we recommend checking out the popular #disneybound , #disneybounding , #marvelbound , #marvelbounding , and #characterbounding tags on Instagram sometime. The fan creativity in the character-bounding community is off the charts!)

Back to fills!—To mark a square complete:

You must fill at least one of the two prompts in each square, unless you swap in one of your own curated prompts or swap curated prompts with another player (see Bingo Card Curation and Additional Bingo Card Prompt Swaps for more info)

Fill requirements differ based on the type of fanwork you create (see Fanwork Fill Requirements for a complete list).

There Can Be Only One!—Every creator begins this round with the same DLBHQ creator card—no exceptions! (Keep reading to find out how to curate your new creator card with our curated prompts request form!)

Bingo Card Curation

Fill out our 2024 DLBHQ Curated Prompts Request Form to request up to 10 curated prompts based on your favorite fanwork genres and other types of prompts.

You get a list of prompts—You will receive a list of curated prompts by email if you fill out the curated bingo prompts request form.

Curated prompts are for swapping squares—These curated prompts can be used anytime during this round as swaps for squares you’re not vibing with on your base creator bingo card. The only squares that can’t be swapped out on the base creator card are the four corner squares if you plan to complete our Four Corners Bingo Bang Challenge (we’ll explain more about that in a bit).

Player prompt trades—Your curated, requested prompts are the only prompts that can be traded with other players to use as square swaps for squares on your base creator card and theirs.

To be as clear as possible: the curated prompt request form is not a form to fill out for a second bingo card or a one-of-a-kind, custom bingo card as we’ve done in previous rounds. You are only requesting a list of 10 prompts curated for you to use as instant swaps wherever you want on the base Darcy Lewis creator bingo card anytime during the 2024 round.

We recommend the Chrome browser—We strongly recommend opening the curated prompts request form in a Google Chrome browser to complete it, if possible. (One of our beta-testers had trouble submitting the form in Safari after filling out the whole form.)

Curated prompt requests are limited to a maximum of 10 requested prompts. We strongly recommend maxing out and requesting all 10 curated prompts on your curated prompt request form when you submit it.

Each player may only fill out the curated prompt request form once during the 2024 round. So make it count. 😉

Though the option to request these additional curated prompts is available to all creators, creators participating in Darcy Bingo are not required to request curated prompts to supplement their bingo creator card if they like the base creator card just the way it appears.

The only curated prompts that can be replaced by Mods this round after you complete the prompt request form are those you’ve been sent as a result of your prompt request form that accidentally include something on your Omissions/Do Not Want list. Your DNW list should be clear and concise. Please don’t send us a lengthy essay on your dislikes. If you feel you would need to write an essay-length response about your dislikes to get just 10 prompts that you’re okay with writing, you may be better off (and we would strongly recommend) letting us know you’d prefer one-word prompts-only because one-word prompts are less likely to include or impinge on your lengthy and specific dislikes.

Additional Bingo Card Prompt Swaps

Trade curated prompts with Darcy Bingo friends—one curated prompt swap with another Darcy Lewis Bingo creator is allowed per month. Contact a mod to notify us if you and a friend have both chosen to swap one each of your curated bingo prompts with one another.

2024 creator bingo base card prompts are not tradable with other creators because everyone begins with the same creator bingo card prompts this round.

Monthly adoptables.—A fresh list of monthly adoptables will be posted at the beginning of each month, starting in July. Anyone can adopt a monthly adoptable at any time during the month. To adopt it, you must complete and publish the creation by the end of the month to use it as a completed fill for a square on your bingo card.

The Darcy Lewis Bingo Weekly Challenge continues in the DLBHQ Discord with a fresh prompt every Sunday.—New weekly prompts can be found on our Discord anytime once you join us there! Click this link for your invite to the DLBHQ Discord. The weekly challenge is very similar to monthly adoptables, but the time period allowed is much shorter—just one week to plan, create, and post your fanwork before the week’s 5:00 pm Sunday (New York) deadline.

Publishing Bingo Creations

Tag—@darcylewisbingohq in the A/N and use the tag #dlbingohq (all one word!) in the first five tags when posting your new creations on tumblr if you want your work reblogged. If we can’t find it, we can’t reblog it.

Each published creation should include an outline of the folllowing…

• the square filled

• trigger warnings for content consumers

• word count (for fics, descriptions for the visually impaired, and other wordy works)

• pairings/polycules/main characters

Please include appropriate warnings when you publish your creations.—If warnings are spoilers, put a warning in the tags that spoilers are in the end notes and then actually include the spoilers in the end notes.

Share your fanworks with other creators.—You may also post your fills in the appropriate fill channels on the Darcy Lewis Bingo Headquarters Discord to share your works with other creators and readers for our new reader bingo challenge. Posting your fills in our fill channels helps other readers find them to complete our new reader bingo. (We’ll post about that in a few days!)

A new Darcy Lewis Bingo 2024 Collection will be appearing soon on the Archive.—Please add your works to this collection as you upload them to make them easier for readers to find (especially those playing Darcy Reader Bingo!).

Please use the ‘read more’ feature on tumblr when possible to abbreviate the length of your fills if you’d like them reblogged by the Darcy Lewis Bingo HQ account.—There’s a shortcut on mobile now that makes it so much easier. It’s in the toolbar at the bottom of every post you create. It’ll look like two stacked em dashes with a squiggly line between them.

Fanwork Fill Requirements

• 100 words for written works or word art, with the exception of poetry with independent formatting rules (such as haikus).

• 1 image for artwork or handcrafts of any kind and a description for the visually impaired of the medium used and what it represents.

• 1 image for cosplay or character-bounding and a description for the visually impaired of cosplay or clothing and any other fashion influences incorporated into the costume or clothing (be descriptive! talk about fabrics and colors, tone and texture! describe the emotions the colors you used evoke in you as the creator!)

• 9 elements for moodboards (background, images, texts, ephemera) and a description for the visually impaired of the moodboard and what it represents.

• 6 images for social media AUs and a description for the visually impaired of the creation and what it represents.

• 10 songs for playlists and a text list of artists and songs to give credit to the original artists, plus a description for the visually impaired of what the playlist represents and how it relates to Darcy.

Still not sure if your creation will meet the minimum prompt fill requirements? @ a mod! we’ll create new requirements based on new types of creator fanwork submissions, as needed.

Deadlines & Masterposts

Deadlines—We have no deadlines. Really. We mean it. We’re not joking. There’s just a form to fill out when you’re done with the current card, completed your bingo, your blackout, completed all the badges you’re interested in, whatever. Set your own goals and fill out the creator bingo award badge request form whenever you’re ready to reap the rewards of your fanwork efforts.

Masterposts—Masterposts are due whenever you’re done with this bingo card creatively and have achieved whatever goals you’ve set for yourself. We recommend posting your masterpost before the next bingo round goes live, but it’s really up to you. We’re not your mom and this isn’t homework. No deadlines or due dates, we swear.

Creator Bingo Award Badges

You Tried Badge—fill any 5 squares anywhere on your DLBHQ creator bingo card.

Creator Bingo, Truly, a Classic Achievement—fill 5 squares in a row, column, or diagonally on your DLBHQ creator bingo card.

2024 Creator Mini Bingo Brownout Challenge—Complete 9 fills in a perfect 3x3 grid pattern anywhere within your Darcy creator bingo card to complete this challenge. (This badge may just be a giant poop emoji the size of a 3x3 mini card. Who knows? Certainly not us. 💩)

2024 Creator Bingo Blackout Badge—NAIL IT! Complete 25 fills on your DLBHQ creator bingo card and blackout all 25 squares for the ultimate 2024 bingo achievement award badge.

Four Corners Creator Bingo Bang—Looking for a ludicrous bingo challenge? Not feeling challenged enough? Bring it on. 😈 We’ve got a real one for you now, a bang within a bingo. Complete a minimum four-chapter story using one prompt each from all four of our bingo creator card’s corner squares (absolutely no curated prompt swaps permitted to be used to complete this badge challenge—you must choose from and use only the prompts as they appear in the four corner squares of the bingo creator card). Your Four Corners Bingo Bang creation must be at least 6,000 words in length to qualify for this bingo bang badge.

Creator Bingo Award Badge Request Form

Please direct any remaining questions to #ask-the-mods or @mod on our Discord if you have bingo questions you can’t find answers to in the bingo guidelines for creators above. If you’re on tumblr, drop us a DM with whatever questions you have or click that invite link in the guidelines above and come join us on Discord to ask your questions there or check to see if your question has already been answered!

The 2024 Darcy Lewis Bingo card for creators is attached below. Have fun creating new Darcy fannish works!

—The Darcy Lewis Bingo Headquarters Mod Team,

@chrissihr & @ibelieveinturtles

#darcy lewis #dlbingohq #2024 Darcy Lewis Bingo #bingo guidelines

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