#//this turned out a thousand times more lame than i intended it to...

[junekissed]

packages, boxes and bags

day eight of junkissed's svt season's greetings event

member — boyfriend!seokmin x reader genre — the sweetest and purest fluff word count — 3.1k synopsis — you’re having trouble finding the perfect gift for your boyfriend on your first christmas together. maybe his friends can help. warnings — a little cursing, reader is called seokmin's girlfriend, pet names (baby, honey), they are so damn cute it hurts, when can i have my own seokmin god please i'm begging notes — lowercase intended. i apologize this is late but i was busy the past couple days and i also didn't have much inspo for this. so imagine my surprise when today i sit down at my laptop and boom three thousand words just. appear. but i am so happy with how this turned out and i hope you will be too. i must warn you all this is disgustingly sweet and precious and i definitely screamed into my pillow more than once while writing this. i hope you enjoy :) p.s. i promise this isn't an ad for kay jewelers— blame @duhnova for that

one reblog = one (almost) engagement ring

you shut your laptop closed and groan, putting your head in your hands. this was never going to work.

you’ve spent the better part of your day off on websites like amazon, macy’s, even walmart, trying to find the perfect gift for seokmin.

despite being together almost seven months now, it’s the first time you’ll be spending christmas together. and… you have absolutely no idea what to get him.

first you thought about getting him some little gadget for his computer at work, maybe a new keyboard or a cute new mouse pad. but then you remembered how he told you in passing the other day how he couldn’t stand how his job had him hunched over his computer all day, and he was thinking about looking for a new one where he wouldn’t have to be on it so much.

then you thought you might get him a nice framed picture of the two of you, something small to keep in his apartment for when you’re not there. but when you came over last weekend, the first thing he did was show you the digital photo frame he found in his closet that his mom got him for his birthday that he’d forgotten about. he was stoked to “finally be able to put it to good use” and had programmed it with dozens of pictures of the two of you.

you’d tried google. you’d looked at every gift-giving website under the sun. you’d even asked your best friend what she was getting for her boyfriend for christmas to see if it might spark an idea. 

but everything you come across is either something he already has, something he doesn’t need, or something he could easily get on his own.

so… you were stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, seokmin is currently on the other side of town, running through the mall in a panic, trying to figure out what to get you.

he knows he shouldn’t have waited until three days before christmas to get his holiday shopping done, but he’s been busy– there’s a huge promotion up at his job, and he’s doing everything he can to get it. not only would it mean less sitting at his desk all day and more moving around, it would also mean a big raise, so you can finally move in together like you both have been wanting to. now that would be a perfect christmas present if he gets the position, but he won’t find out if he has or not until the new year, so that rules that out. 

it’s your first christmas together, so he really wants to go all out. winter is his favorite season, and now he gets to spend it with his favorite person, so why wouldn’t he make it something extravagant? except… he can’t find anything to get you.

so here he is at the mall downtown, ducking into every store and searching for something, anything that might give him an idea of a gift you might like.

he doesn’t wanna buy you clothes, because that’s lame, and also because he doesn’t wanna get something that’s not guaranteed you’ll like. what if you think the fabric is too itchy, or you don’t like the pattern? returning or even exchanging his gift would mean a big failure.

he doesn’t wanna buy you the trinkets he found at that one gift shop, because even though they are cute, they’re not special enough to get for you. these are the type of things he’d pick up for you on his way home from work as an everyday treat, or at the very most, a stocking stuffer; you deserve more than some cheap little thing he found on a whim.

he thought about getting you a new purse, because you said you’ve been needing one since the strap on your current one broke, but he’s pretty sure you already bought yourself one when your boss gave you an amazon gift card as a thank-you for all the overtime you’ve been doing lately.

it seems like everything he thinks of to get you is a dumb idea. so now he’s stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

you sigh, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your gallery, praying that one of the photos is hiding some kind of sign that’ll tell you exactly what to buy him. but as expected, there’s no magic word or wish list or qr code that leads to the perfect gift.

you’re just about to give up and call him and just ask him what he wants, when an idea hits you. calling him would be admitting to him you can’t think of something special to give him, but calling his friends… now that, that might get you somewhere. they’ve known him for way longer than you have, they must have some idea of things he likes or might want.

you quickly dial the number of his friend minghao. you’ve only met him a few times at some get-togethers, but he seems like the most responsible out of his group, and the most likely to give you a helpful answer.

he picks up on the first ring, but the voice that answers… isn’t minghao?

“hello seokmin’s girlfriend! this is minghao’s phone, how can i help you!”

“junhui, i told you to stop touching my phone!” you hear a voice in the background that you guess is minghao.

“fi-ine,” the first voice—junhui?—grumbles, and you hear a shuffling noise as you assume the phone is being passed back to its owner.

minghao sighs. “hi. sorry about him. what’s up?”

you try not to laugh at the phone mix-up. “just, uh, have a question for you.”

“mhm?” he prods.

“has… seok mentioned anything he wants for christmas? or, like, is there anything you know he needs?” you ask, hoping it sounds nonchalant.

he hums. “mm, not really. are you trying to come up with a christmas gift for him?”

you whine. “yeah. but i’ve tried everything, i can’t think of a single good thing to give him.”

minghao pauses. “he’s really sentimental, but you probably already figured that out by now. the best i can suggest is something homemade, or something related to some kind of memory you have together. he’d like that.”

you freeze. “i… i think i’ve got an idea,” you say jumping up from your chair. “you’re the best, minghao, i owe you big time for this.”

“don’t worry about it. merry christmas.”

you hang up the phone and open your laptop again. this just might work.

you hadn’t planned on spending this much on seokmin’s present, but why not go all out? sure, you’ll have to cut back on your morning coffee for a couple weeks, but it’ll be worth it to see the look on his face on christmas morning.

at the same time, across town seokmin’s just walking out of the jewelry store, a shiny velvet box tucked into his jacket pocket. it’s a lot more than he wanted to pay for it, but it’s better than showing up empty-handed. besides, if that promotion comes through like he hopes, he’ll pay it off in no time. it might have cost a small fortune, but he just knows it’ll look so pretty on you. he can’t wait to see you wear it.

christmas eve finally rolls around and you’re standing outside the door to seokmin’s apartment, your arms full of bags for the weekend you’re spending with him.

his entire face lights up the second he opens the door, and he squeezes you in a tight hug before giving you a soft kiss. “hi baby,” he says, almost shyly. “merry christmas.”

he grabs the bags from you to carry them inside, and you give him another kiss. “merry christmas.”

he takes your things back to his room to set them down, then comes back out into the living room, wrapping his arms around you again. “i’m so glad you get to be here,” he says quietly.

“mm. me too.”

the room is quiet, besides the faint honking of cars outside. you snuggle up on the couch together, picking out a movie to watch, the dim lights casting a soft glow around the apartment.

“do you wanna open your present now?” he asks when the screen turns black and the credits slowly roll past.

“seok, you have to wait until christmas! we can’t open all our presents tonight!” you giggle, and he pouts.

“please?” he says, looking up at you with those big, pleading eyes you adore so much. 

“fine,” you concede. “but only one! or else we won’t have anything to open in the morning.”

he grins and gets down on the floor beside the couch, crawling over to the tree to grab a small wrapped box nestled into the bottom branches. he comes back over and sits at the base of the couch, putting one knee up as he hands you the box.

he grins up at you as you tear open the wrapping paper, revealing the soft velvet jewelry box.

you look down at him, and he nods eagerly, motioning for you to open it. you hesitate. it definitely looks expensive, way more than you would’ve wanted him to spend on you. but you did pay almost $300 renting the place for his gift, so you write it off as being even.

you delicately pry the box open with your fingernail, revealing a breathtaking ring absolutely covered in diamonds and intricate silver gilding. it gleams even in the low light, sitting in its little velvet box, staring up at you.

you gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth. “seokmin, what the fuck is this!?”

his smile instantly drops, the color draining from his cheeks. “do you not like it? i can probably still return it, i have the receipt–”

“no!” you shout, and he jumps, eyes wide. “no,” you repeat, calmer this time. “no, i love it. it’s gorgeous. i just– i thought we were doing… small presents first?” you stutter, still in shock at the beautiful piece of jewelry in your shaking hands.

he blushes. “i… wanted you to wear it now,” he murmurs.

you study him, and suddenly you realize he’s still down on the carpet on one knee. and everything finally clicks.

you scream as you jump up from the couch. “seokmin, you’re not proposing, are you?” you gasp.

“no?” he stammers, confused why you’d think he is, before realizing himself that he looks… well, he definitely looks like he’s proposing.

he hurriedly puts his knee down, sitting flat on the carpet. “i’m not! i’m not. this is just a really nice ring, i swear,” he rushes to explain. “at least, not yet,” he mumbles under his breath, but you don’t hear him. you’re still focused on the fact that there’s more diamonds in this ring than you can count on one hand.

you’re still standing in front of him, mouth hanging open, and he’s starting to get worried because you haven’t said a word in a few minutes. “do you want me to propose?” he asks hesitantly. because, screw it, he’s already got the nice ring; if you’re ready, then he’s ready, might as well—

“no! i mean, yes, i do, i really do, but not right now, i…” you trail off, not sure how to continue.

the room is silent, both of you staring at each other. after a minute he stands up, taking his seat back on the couch. “oh no,” he says, finally breaking the silence with a groan. “i ruined this, didn’t i?”

“no,” you sigh, having recovered enough from the shock to sit next to him again. “no, of course not. i’m just… surprised. i wasn’t expecting this. it must’ve cost a fortune.”

“it’s rude to ask someone the price of a gift, you know,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“trust me, i’m not asking,” you laugh. “i don’t even wanna know.”

“can… can i put it on you?” he asks, his voice getting soft again.

you look at him, and then at the glittering diamond ring in his hand, and you can’t not accept it. you nod, letting out a quiet “mhm” in agreement.

your eyes start to water as he slides it onto your finger, and he looks up worriedly when you sniffle. “it’s so pretty, oh my god,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

“please don’t cry,” he says softly, and he looks so upset that you have to reassure him you’re not mad and you just really, really like your gift. 

you admire how it looks on your finger for a second before you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around him.

“i love it, baby,” you murmur. “you really didn’t have to do this.”

he hums. “but i wanted to. i wanted to show you how much i love you.”

tears well up in your eyes again, and you bury your face in his neck to hide them. “you already show me. every single day.”

he sighs, a happy sigh, relaxing into your arms. “i’m glad you like it.”

you stay like that for a while, gently rocking back and forth on the couch, peacefully enjoying everything. the scent of his cologne wafts around you, a comforting, familiar smell, and the colorful lights of the christmas tree shine softly in the background. you wouldn’t want to spend christmas anywhere else.

you pull away a little, breaking the silence with a short laugh. “mine’s gonna look so stupid compared to yours,” you pout as you snuggle into his side, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“are you gonna make me wait until tomorrow to open it?” he asks, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“no,” you sigh. “it’s probably after midnight by now, anyway.” you lift yourself out of his arms, going back into his room to get his present from one of your bags.

it’s a lightweight little box, and you hand it down to him. the gift itself isn’t big in size, but you know he likes taking the wrapping off, so you put it in a box and wrapped it for him.

he waits for you to come sit beside him again, and he opens it, carefully tearing the red and green paper with a grin on his face.

he opens the box, revealing a small piece of paper. he looks back at you. “baby? what’s this?”

your cheeks heat up as you begin to explain, suddenly feeling shy about your gift. “well, i… i rented out the movie theater we went to on our first date, and i thought it would be fun to, just… spend the day there, i don’t know.” you trail off, looking down at your hands, until seokmin takes them in his own.

when you look back up at him, his smile is so wide, it almost looks like it hurts. “i love it,” he beams, his voice breaking a little. “that’s so thoughtful, honey. i really love it.”

he leans forward to squeeze you in a hug, and you can’t help but smile, too.

“this is the best christmas ever,” he sighs into your neck, holding you tightly against him. “love you so much.”

he sits back, pulling you onto his lap facing him. “do you know where i got the ring from?” he asks suddenly, locking his hands behind your lower back.

you look at him. “um, kay? it says it on the box.”

he grins. “and?”

you frown in confusion. “and… what?”

the tips of his ears turn pink. “y’know, their slogan? ‘every kiss begins with kay’? from the commercials?”

you blink at him.

he groans, rolling his head back. “can i just kiss you now, please?”

you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck and rubbing your nose against his. “fine.”

and just as he’s about to, his pocket vibrates, and he pulls out his phone.

“my… boss?” he says, confused, showing you the screen.

you whine, resting your chin on his shoulder. “what does he want that can’t wait? it’s one in the morning on christmas eve– well, technically christmas morning, now.”

he looks at you with pleading eyes, and you sigh. “you can answer it. quickly, though, please?”

he presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks before sliding the button to accept the call, holding the phone up to his other ear. “hello?”

you can’t hear what’s being said on the other line, so you close your eyes, worn out from the night’s big surprises. you have a lot to do tomorrow—today—and you’ll need sleep if you want to spend the whole day with him like you want to.

seokmin sits up suddenly, startling you. you lean back, looking at him, wordlessly asking if something’s wrong. but he’s beaming, his smile so bright you’d think he’d just been told he won the lottery, and you crease your eyebrows in confusion.

he stays on the phone for another minute, listening intently. “thank you so much. merry christmas,” he says finally, then hangs up, tossing his phone to the other end of the couch.

“what? what is it?” you ask, still concerned despite his giddy expression.

he settles back, his hands sliding to your waist and holding you up on his lap. “i just got some news,” he says, and you know he’s being vague on purpose to draw out the suspense.

you pout. “well, are you gonna tell me, or not!”

he giggles, unable to hold it back any longer. “i got the promotion!” he yells.

your mouth falls open. “what promotion?” you ask, tentative.

“i didn’t wanna say anything unless i was sure, but there’s been a position available at the company, and they wanted to hire someone from within,” he says excitedly. “it wasn’t guaranteed that i’d get it, but i did! i got the promotion!”

“aw, seok! i’m so proud of you, baby,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him.

he pulls away after a second, and you look at him expectantly. “i have more news,” he says with a grin.

“and?”

“and… it comes with a big raise, so we’ll finally be able to afford a place together,” he beams, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, and feel your eyes well up with tears, spilling down your cheeks.

he calls your name softly, and you look up at him. “are you… what do you think?” he asks, his big eyes searching your watery ones.

“i– i’m just so happy,” you stammer, leaning down to hug him again. “i love you so much. this is more than i could’ve ever asked for.” you bury your face in his neck, letting your tears of joy fall onto his sweater.

“merry christmas, honey.”

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[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2 Part 3

They had been talking for hours in bed, about anything and everything, the two of them politely ignoring the late hour. If Eddie had to guess, it was maybe three or four a.m., and both of them had work in the morning, not that it mattered. They were too wrapped up in each other to care, lost in exchanging the silliest questions and answers, just because they could. 

It was his favorite kind of night, even if they always led to his least favorite kind of mornings. But that was future Eddie’s problem. Current Eddie was too busy debating about the Princess Bride, “All I’m saying is Inigo Montoya should have been the main character, and the whole Wesley and Buttercup thing should have been the side plot.”

Eddie couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve was rolling his eyes in the dark, “You’re missing the whole point of the movie. It’s a love story, not a revenge story.”

“But it’s an unrealistic love story! Avenging your father is so much more relatable.”

“You want to talk realism in a movie with human sized rats? Babe, you’re reaching. It’s perfect the way it is. The only thing that would make it better was if we got to see their wedding at the end.”

They were face to face, only a few inches between them, but suddenly it felt like too much. Eddie reached for him, pulling him against his chest as he laughed, “Of course you’d say that. You’re such a babygirl, it’s not even funny.”

“I’m your babygirl, thank you very much. You’re the one who pulled it out of me,” He was using his pouting voice now, and Eddie had to fight the urge to turn on the light so he could see that face in it’s full glory. 

“Mmhm, my perfect, wonderful babygirl. With bad movie opinions.”

“Insult my movie takes again and I’ll bite you. I swear to God.”

“That’s not much of  a threat baby-fuck ow!” The words were barely out of Eddie’s mouth before Steve was nipping at his collarbone. Which, honestly, yeah he deserved it, so he couldn’t even complain at his boyfriend gnawing at him.

“Okay, okay! You win!” Eddie laughed, “I guess violence was the answer this time around.”

“Thank you.” He could feel Steve smiling against his skin, trying and failing to hide his giggling. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, tangling their limbs together as they cuddled. Eddie was on  the edge of falling asleep when he heard it, a tiny whisper against his neck, "I wish we could get married." 

Eddie grinned, voice tired but intrigued at the idea, “You would be an amazing house husband.”

Steve pinched at Eddie’s hip, laughing despite himself, “You’re such an ass.”

They settled back into the comforting quiet, but suddenly, Eddie didn’t feel very tired anymore. It was quite the thought, marrying Steve. Before they met Eddie had always been staunchly against the whole idea. He used to think of it as a lame, patriarchal tradition, perpetuated by the shitty American establishment for optimum baby-making. Something that he would, thankfully, be able to avoid ever doing because of the whole gay thing. 

But now…the idea of a life-long commitment was pretty appealing. At least in his head, that was already the plan. He fully intended to hang onto Steve for the rest of their days. And the thought of a pretty ring on his finger, a tell-tale sign to the whole world that he was taken, that was something Eddie could get behind. 

Eddie licked his lips, a little nervous despite himself, “Y’know…we could. If we wanted.”

Steve shifted to look up at him, curious, “What do you mean?”

“We could get married. Maybe not in the traditional sense. But we could do something like it.”

“But it wouldn’t be…” Steve struggled to find the words, “Real?”

Eddie paused, thinking of every milk-toast bullshit straight marriage he had seen in Hawkins. Maybe it was an egotistical thought, but he knew that what he had with Steve was a thousand times stronger than ninety percent of marriages in that town. 

Fuck it, ninety percent of marriages in the country. 

He shrugged, a plan already forming in his head, “But we could get close though, couldn’t we? Think about it, A name change, some wills, medical power of attorney, we can get some legal stuff going here. Besides, who's to say that the Wheelers ‘love’ is more legitimate than ours?”

Steve was quiet, and was pulling away from him. For a second, Eddie thought he played the whole thing all wrong, that he was being too pushy with a stupid idea that  was about to be shot down to hell. 

But then Steve was leaning over him and switching on the bedside lamp. The panic that was brewing immediately disappeared, all from one look at his handsome beaming face, “Eddie Munson, are you asking me to marry you?”

An excerpt from the unpublished last chapter of this fic

[billconrad]

Reflecting on My First Book

    I began writing what became known as Interviewing Immortality in March 2016 and published this book with Amazon in May 2017. The reviews have generally been positive, and people have encouraged me to continue. Yay!

    I thought pondering my accomplishment would be fun, and so, if you have not purchased this well-written novel, I will summarize: James, a less-than-perfect author, is captured and forced to undergo a bizarre medical procedure that will extend his life. He then interviewed his 500-year-old female captor.

    The main negative feedback revolves around the torture scene. When I wrote the story, I set that scene at a modestly frightening tone and kept the gore to a minimum. The impact came from describing the feelings instead of a graphical description. At the time, I felt the result was mild compared to horror plots but many readers still claimed it was too gory. My only consolidation to these offended readers is, “Umm, the world is tough. I’m the least of your worries.”

    The other negative feedback was that I had “redundant” characters but never understood what this meant. My only thought is that this might refer to my writing tick of repeating myself. Fortunately, this happens less often, less often with later works.

    A recent reviewer did like the story’s conclusion and felt it needed more closure. I intended to leave the story open because not all stories have a perfect ending. Also, that is what the next book (now on sale) is for. Yet, I conclude that I could have made a better ending.

    Another concern from readers is that the story has been done. “An author is forced to write a book. How unimaginative.” They compare my story to the novel Misery by Steven King. I can’t entirely agree. Misery is a kidnapping horror story, and mine explores a fantastic woman’s life from the perspective of a disgraced author.

    This highlights a common problem. Let’s say I want to write a western. My story is about a cowboy bringing home the herd. That has only been done a thousand times. So, when I wanted to write about an immortal woman, there were only so many plots to choose from. I avoided the vampire angle or the famous person trap. Having her/paying somebody to tell the story seemed lame. So, the only option was forcing somebody to record her story. I still think it is a good angle, but there is the famous book/TV/movie Interview with the Vampire. I have not read/watched it, but I imagine there are many similarities.

    Also, let us not forget that many people feel Star Wars is based on the movie Once Upon a Time in the West. When Harold Ramis wrote the movie Ghostbusters, he was unaware of the unpopular show “Ghost Busters.” Or did he secretly use that miserable mess as inspiration? Who knows?

    I thought marketing would be easy. After all, it is in Amazon’s best interest to promote new authors. Upload a book, and everybody will buy it. Bam! Done! It turns out that Amazon required me to market my work, which requires natural ability, experience, research, effort, connections, and luck. I possess ten percent of this requirement, and my dismal sales are the proof. Bummer.

    On the positive side of my writing experience, I received many touching reviews and messages from readers. Each one made me feel wonderful, and I reread them many times. Thanks!

    Another positive is that my writing ability has improved, allowing me to reflect on the quality of my original work. Yeah… There were many issues, and in July 2023, I released a second edition. It was a significant revision…

    From a high-level point of view, I feel my original work still contains a good story. Why? The main characters are perfectly contrasting. One is a low-life author who cannot be honest with himself, and the other is a fantastic paranoid psychotic killer with unlimited resources. Even after all this time, I still find their interaction interesting. I wonder how I came up with such a creative combination?

    Publishing my first book still fills me with pride. Sure, it has issues, but that is not the point. Many people talk about a big game, but only a few are brave enough to publish. Sometimes, we take a leap and land somewhere extraordinary. For me, that turned out to be writing.

    You’re the best -Bill

    May 25, 2024

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[translationandbetrayals]

Yuji Itadori and selflessness in Jujutsu Kaisen

(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE JUJUTSU KAISEN MANGA, GO READ IT WHAT ARE YOU DOING IF YOU'RE NOT UP TO DATE???) Our sun, our boy, our beloved Yuji Itadori, protagonist of the hit series "Sorcery Battle". One of the most beloved and well known protagonists of the modern era of manga, along with Denji and most likely...Deku??? Or Eren maybe, who knows, that's far from the point. The point is, Yuji is the protagonist of one of the most brutal mangas in recent memory, as anyone who's read it knows, people die, A LOT, like, actually dropping like flies every 10 chapters or so, and it ain't just a background character, even in the volume 0 of Jujutsu Kaisen, where Yuta is the protagonist, we see the death of Geto Suguru, a pretty major character, though at the time the author didn't intend for him to be major so he just kinda, poofed him, even though, in this first chapter, the trend which we will dwelve into soon, starts. This trend is the trend of selfish people being powerful. In the first chapters of Jujutsu Kaisen, we see Yuji's grandfather pass away, his last words telling him to "Help people", in the jujutsu world, someone's last words carry inmense weight, due to people being able to tap into more cursed energy as they're about to die, normal people as well not just sorcerers (even though if you ask me, Yuji's grandpa was a sorcerer but that's something else for another day). These words deeply mark Yuji and he does as his dying grandfather tells him, he helps people to the best of his ability, being selfless and always helping everyone when he can, which as we all know turns out preeeetty poorly, we see Junpei die, we see Nanami die, we see Nobara die, we see Todo get crippled and unable to use his boogie woogie (practically death for a sorcerer), we see Yaga die, we see A LOT of death, and a lot of Yuji getting beat up so badly he on various times wants to give up, but he doesn't cuz he's just BUILT like that, Yuji's philosophy even states he sees himself as a cog in a big machine, a lot of times he doesn't care if he's gonna die, as long as he does his best to fulfill his role.  On the other side of trying to save everyone and be a good person, we have Ryomen Sukuna, the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer to ever live (Yeah I think he's stronger than Gojo, I like Gojo more but like bro...PLUS it's not even bad that Sukuna is stronger, he's like what, a thousand years old, Gojo is barely 28, give him the time Sukuna had and he no diffs, but as of his last appearance, yeah Sukuna is stronger Imo). Sukuna's philosophy throughout the whole series is of being selfish, and needing that hunger to reach your goals, he finds people who lack this hunger and desire to "burn it all down and grab what you want" as weak, he explicitly finds Itadori lame for this same reason, he's too much of a good person. Even after he kills his opponents, Sukuna basically goes to hell or heaven with them and talks to them about their fight, telling them they were strong and such if he had a good time, for example in Jogo's death, he tells him he should've been more selfish instead of caring about his curse brothers, and that way, maybe he would've given him a better fight. Even apart from these two, every time we see someone being selfish, they're strong, like really strong, and every time we see someone being selfless, they get punished, HARD. Just look at our "hero" cast, everyone's who's a good person gets absolutely TRASHED by the evil selfish characters, Mahito killed Nanami, a sorcerer who really cared about his students and wanted to keep them safe, he fought for them and only them, which got him killed, even in his last moments, he carefully thought of what to say, as to not curse Yuji Itadori. And RIGHT AFTER THIS, we see Mei Mei, who ran away from Shibuya when she had nothing to win from it, not giving a single thought to his fellow sorcerers or innocent people trapped in Shibuya, and what is she doing? She's chilling in Malaysia, if you remember correctly, this is the place our beloved Nanami wanted to go to rest, this LOVELY WOMAN (no) quite literally stole Nanami's dream, and gets to live, SOLELY because she was selfish. Another example, Megumi, who always fought for the rest and saw himself as expendable, which kept him back from developing as a sorcerer until Goatjo Satoru told him to stop being such a pissy pants suicide boy (actual words trust me), only THEN when he started being the tiniest bit selfish, he got stronger and developed his domain expansion. We could even take the example of Gojo not killing Yuji when he met him, cuz he was a dangerous vessel, containing Sukuna, this single act of benevolence and selflessness, literally has caused ALL of our pain in the Jujutsu Kaisen story. Lets go even further and talk about Gojo's massive growth after he died and came back to fight against Toji, the growth we see here is CRAZY, he acts completely unhinged and couldn't be more rewarded for it, he goes from maybe a grade 1, to truly the strongest there is, when he forgives Geto's actions and doesn't throw a hollow purple at him in the middle of the crowd of people, he is later punished. The message couldn't be clearer, it's kill or be killed, it's be selfish or DIE. Which. Is why seeing Yuji steadily climbing the ranks of power, when being selfless and a good person, is HYPE, this man is defying everything we've seen narratively, Yuji and Sukuna aren't only mortal enemies, their ideas and philosophies clash with a passion, though Yuji has lost everything and Sukuna hasn't lost a single thing, Yuji has always acted for the good of the people he loves, and Sukuna knows nothing about love. Truly our Jujutsu Kaisen, go read it right now and draw fanart. -Javier Salinas

[niamh-the-imposter-blog]

According to myth, elves only meet death through the clash of swords, the stab of flesh, the spill of blood. (According to myth, even halflings live far beyond the years of normal man.) They watch kingdoms rise and fall. They watch children be born, then grow old and die. They stand vigil over the lives of men, the silent sentries of history. 

Immortality is a gift not given to the faint of heart, and fate has a way of weeding out those unworthy of it... 

For weeks, Astrid had been feeling unwell - dizzy, nauseated, so worried she couldn’t sleep. She could barely stomach food, and yet her belly still seemed to swell. Paranoia set in, the kind where she could feel her heart beating ragged and thready in her throat. 

There was a potion Aunt Margaret used to make back at the brothel, and when she was young, Astrid would make herself of use by picking all the ingredients out in the woods. Not for the faint of heart, Margaret used to say, but for those who were strong of will, it could make their troubles go away. 

Astrid could use that now, and with all the court in a frenzy, it was easy enough to sneak away to the woods. She hardly had reason to fear for her safety now - not when the worst had already happened. 

Back in her chambers, she followed the recipe by memory alone, and the resulting mixture was just as brown and mucky as she had remembered it. It was bitter going down, and she had to suppress the urge to vomit, but she managed to swallow down every last drop. 

It only took two hours for her to begin to bleed - faster than she remembered it being, but time seemed to drag in youth, and she thought nothing of it. The cramping was something terrible, but she told herself the pain would absolve her of her sins. 

Still, time passed on and the pain didn’t cease. It got worse, in fact, until it felt like it had seized her entire body. The aches panged with the beating of her heart, a constant throb. Thud thud. Thud thud. Thud thud....

And then the pain started to lessen, to come slower, and crash over more like the whitecaps at shore and less like the tidal waves. 

Thud thud... 

...

Thud thud....

...

Thud.... 

Thud...

.... 

Thud. 

Until suddenly, it stopped. Until suddenly, all of it stopped. No more pain. No more hurt. No more weak heart. 

Immortality is a gift not given to the faint of heart, and fate has a way of weeding out those unworthy of it... 

[wiypt-writes]

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

 Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

 Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13​ who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13​ and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​’s  Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.  

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed.  So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today XXXIII

A/N: And we're back?? With hopefully better more regular updates again??? So, I am apologising with some serious fluff at the end. Oopsies <3 And, without further ado, thank you for your patience and enjoy chapter thirty-three XD Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

--

No rest came for Asta after that night, or at least, it didn’t come easily. Ivar couldn’t get out of her what she’d seen, not about anything. He’d convinced her to tell him she had seen something, convinced her to tell him each thing she’d seen- Hvitserk sick, Björn falling when she fought him that final time in Kattegat, but she wouldn’t tell him why she’d woken speaking of Lagertha.

Ivar was certain now, if of nothing else, that Asta was a Prophet. He just wished that she was a Prophet who could sleep some, as she’d barely done so since the night she’d woken. In fact, as they now sat around the table for another meal with Oleg, Katia, and Igor, she seemed to be starting to doze, and Ivar had to keep gently waking her.

They were currently having a conversation about how they’d entertain themselves through the winter, and Katia’s description of bathing in a hot spring had made Asta’s brows crease, looking up at her slowly. Katia was smirking at her, smirking at Ivar as well, and Asta decided right then and there that she just wanted to take Ivar back to their room and go to sleep. Forget any dreams she may have- that would be better than how awkward she felt just then.

“And you, dear Ivar?” Oleg asked. “The future King of all Scandinavia… what would you like?”

“I would like to walk,” Ivar replied, after a few long moments of thought. Oleg began to chuckle, and Asta narrowed her eyes at him.

“That would be a miracle,” he pointed out, as if laughing Ivar’s desires off. But Ivar didn’t laugh, not at all, and Asta began to wonder if he was going to get angry at Oleg.

“I’ve heard that your God performs miracles,” he began. “Jesus Christ raised a man from the dead. He made a lame man walk. He fed a thousand people with just a few loaves and fishes. I don’t think it’s too much to ask of Him to cure a simple cripple, is it?”

Clearly, Oleg was irritated. The idea made Asta smirk, in a way which mirrored Ivar’s own smirk. Irritating that man was now something which Asta thoroughly enjoyed.

“We will all pray for that miracle, Ivar the Boneless,” he said tensely. Asta smiled softly, taking Ivar’s hand under the table.

“We will,” Asta agreed, nodding, and Ivar turned to her with a small smile, before turning back to their host.

“What about you, Prince Oleg?” he questioned. “What is it that… amuses you?” He was silent for a moment, and then reiterated, “What is it that you really want?”

Once the question was asked, Ivar lifted his cup to drink from it, and Oleg replied, “As usual, I want the impossible. I want to go back into my mother’s womb. I want to float there, in that small, limitless universe, among the stars. With no beginning, no end. Waiting for the new world to begin.”

There was a far off look in his eye, and yet Asta still found herself opening her eyes wider, her brows lifting a bit as she took a sip of her drink. Impossible, indeed, she thought to herself. She turned to Ivar then, who looked almost like he might pity the man, and so her eyes turned to Katia, who seemed as if she were… not quite enthralled, by him, but she certainly listened intently. Ivar followed Asta’s gaze, and so Katia turned to look at them both, a strange smirk on her lips.

“I know we have all been here before,” Oleg continued on. “We’re constantly reborn. It’s what I believe.” He seemed to watch, then, the way his wife interacted with the Vikings at their table. Ivar looked away as Katia returned her attention to her husband, and Asta returned her attention to her drink. “Don’t you, Ivar?” he asked.

Katia looked back to Ivar, and it was then Asta became aware of what was happening here. Rebirth… Rebirth, like the face of one’s late wife, now being the face of a new ally’s wife. The statement was designed to draw attention to that once again. Her eyes narrowed a bit, as she heard Ivar thoughtfully answer, “Yes. That’s also what I believe.” He glanced back to Katia, a nearly anxious look in his eyes, and Katia smiled gently at him. The Shieldmaiden wished she could take him from the room, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk upsetting Oleg without due cause, not now that Dir was free, even if it meant letting Ivar continue to be subjected to this sort of mental torture.

“Well,” Asta said, hoping to interrupt this conversation and change it again. “Isn’t anybody going to ask what I’d like this winter?” Ivar chuckled a little at the pouty expression she wore, as if feeling a bit left out.

“My apologies, my Queen,” he said, inclining his head to her as if he were deferring to her authority. He even gave a little flourish with one of his hands, and earned a small giggle from the woman.

Asta turned back to him, and put a hand on his cheek affectionately. “I’d like to spend some time with my husband,” she began, “perhaps having a drink in front of a warm hearth, enjoying his presence with me here. I count it a blessing every day that we are here together, and this winter, I want to be sure I don’t take that for granted.”

Ivar smiled softly at her, and covered her hand with his own. He pulled it away from his cheek so that he could kiss the back of it, before turning it and lacing his fingers with her own. “I think I would like that as well,” he said. “If my legs will not be healed, then I should like to spend some time with my wife, being grateful for the fact she remains at my side, even after all we have been through together.”

She gave his hand a small squeeze, and her free hand lifted to cup his cheek once more. “Then we will,” she promised him. And, whether he knew it or not, her want for that winter served more than one purpose. Of course, she meant all she said, about wanting to spend time with him, and not taking it for granted, but at the same time, she sent a message to Oleg and Katia, who she could still sense trying to mess with Ivar. She wasn’t going to stand by while this happened, and in fact, intended to actively stand in the way. Whatever they thought about that, she didn’t care. All Asta cared about, was that she was there for Ivar, and kept them from hurting him any more than he’d already been hurt.

Fortunately, the rest of the night passed without incident, and the next day Asta and Ivar found theirselves standing up above the market of Kiev, watching as Igor skated around on the ice beneath them, just as he’d said he wanted to do. The people around them cheered the young prince on, and Asta and Ivar were no exception. However, a man soon approached them, and stopped to stand on Ivar’s right, where Asta stood to his left. Neither of the Vikings acknowledged him, but he still spoke.

“I have a message for you, Ivar the Boneless, and Asta the Prophet,” he began, and finally earned their attention. “Prince Dir sends you greetings. He is safe, well, and restored. But for the time being, still in hiding.” The two looked back toward Igor, ensuring it couldn’t be noticed, not easily, that they had just been talking to the man who’d approached them. “However,” he continued. “He hopes that one day he will be strong enough to help you achieve your ambition… which, is also his ambition.”

Cheers and applause went up as Igor finished his skating, and stopped to bow as if having just finished an elaborate performance. Ivar and Asta, as well as their apparent visitor, joined the crowd in congratulating the Prince on not falling over, though the former two wore proud smiles on their faces. While the crowd was thoroughly distracted, the messenger sat a small, metallic object down on the banister on which Ivar leaned, a brief motion before clapping again as well.

“He sends you this cross, by which you will know him, and is a token of his enduring friendship,” he explained, and Ivar casually sat a hand down over it, as if just balancing himself. He picked up his crutch as well, in time for the messenger to say, “Now, I must leave. Please do not turn or watch me go.”

They did as asked, and the man left their side just as quickly as he had come to it. A thoughtful expression took Ivar’s face as he left, and he shared a look with Asta. Things were in motion still, it seemed, and they’d certainly have much to discuss that evening. Ivar turned then to lift his hand, looking down at the cross which had been left by Dir’s messenger. It looked quite different from the crosses Asta was used to seeing in Wessex, having two bars across the top as opposed to the one, and a diagonal bar across the longer section of the bottom. She figured, to represent the sign held above Christ’s head, and to represent the place His feet were nailed to the cross.

So caught up in what had happened as they were, they barely noticed as Igor approached them, and asked, “Who was that?”

“He didn’t tell me his name,” Ivar answered him honestly. “But, he told me that Prince Dir is safe,” he paused to uncover the cross for Igor to see it, “and that he is prepared to help us when the time has come.”

Igor nodded and looked up and out, saying, “Then he is an angel sent from God.”

Ivar made a face as if considering what Igor said, and he smiled a bit as he replied, “You’re right. An angel sent from the gods.”

Asta smiled as that conversation naturally reached its conclusion, and she moved around Ivar to go and hug Igor tightly. “And you, Igor, skated just like a little angel yourself!” she complimented him, and he grinned up at her.

“Do you really think so?” he asked happily, which earned a nod from her.

“I know so,” she answered with a smile. “You were so smooth out there! Perhaps you could teach me, hm? Though I may be too old to learn…”

She started to walk with him back to the Palace, and Ivar stood behind them and watched them go. He could hear Igor laughing, and telling her she wasn’t old, and certainly she wasn’t as old as Oleg, which made her laugh as well.

A small smile formed on his lips as he watched this, and watched them, before finally following along after them. Not that he figured he’d catch up now, but he didn’t mind. It was nice to sit back and watch the two interact, really. Asta, though still young, seemed to have a very natural way with children, and it occurred to him that he was thinking of this for the second time about her- ironically, it was also the second time he’d really just watched her with Igor.

She even walked with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, a move that seemed both protective and affectionate all at once. But, he noticed that they really did look like mother and son as they walked along, and it occurred to him once more that he rather liked the idea of them being his family, now. It wasn’t a difficult fantasy to entertain, as often as they spent time together in the ways a family would. And, truth be told, he didn’t find it a harmful fantasy in the slightest. In fact, it even seemed to warm him from the inside out- a hard thing to do in the cold Rus climate.

Once Igor had been returned to his chambers, Asta and Ivar had said goodbye to him and returned to their own, which felt a bit colder to them now as the winter wore on. Asta, ever one to take up an opportunity, smirked and said to Ivar, “I think I’m going to have a servant come and light our hearth, perhaps bring us something to drink. What do you think of that?”

Ivar chuckled a bit at the suggestion, remembering the previous night at dinner. “You want to make your winter wish come true tonight, do you?” he asked her teasingly. “I think it is a fine idea, though, you are lacking a husband to sit with, are you not?”

Asta giggled a little and walked closer to him cupping his cheek and answering, “What need do I have of a husband when I have you, dear Ivar?” She gave his cheek a quick kiss, and then went to the door to pop out and begin her search for a servant.

Perhaps dangerously, Ivar found himself considering, quite seriously, the idea of really making her his wife, making himself her husband. The idea of entering another marriage unsettled him, as horribly as the last one had gone, and he was comfortable with Asta, the way they were. Yes, they flirted, far more than was needed for the story they sold to Oleg and Katia, and every other person there in Kievan Rus’, and he felt nearly certain that what they shared was something real.

But what damage could he do by giving voice to it, by truly setting the idea before her? He would be putting his heart at her feet, he knew that, and the last time he’d given his heart away, it had been handed back to him crushed, if not tossed back down at his feet. Was he ready to risk such a thing again, to risk Asta rejecting him, for whatever reason, and perhaps leaving him alone, pulling away? He thought it must have been better to have what he did with her, than to ask for more, and lose it all.

His time to debate this ran out as Asta soon returned with a servant, one who came into their chambers and immediately began to tend to their hearth, lighting it and coaxing the flame into a full, warm fire by which they could sit and warm themselves. The servant left once it was ready, to go and fetch them some drinks, and Asta hauled one of the many furs off the bed and dragged it over to the hearth, sitting down under it as Ivar eased himself down beside her.

At first, when she offered him the blanket, he had declined and said he wasn’t all too cold. A quip had been made about Saxons, and how less prepared they were for such cold temperatures, but by the time drinks had been brought to them, and they’d had one or two, he found his shoulder pressed up to hers beneath the blanket. It was far more comfortable than trying to weather the cold alone.

And, that applied to his current dilemma with her, too, didn’t it? Perhaps it was the slight buzz he felt, the alcohol in his blood which loosened his lips, or perhaps he’d truly just made up his mind that he didn’t want to let the possibility fade away, too comfortable with what he had to possibly gain something better. It didn’t really matter, he didn’t guess, because he still opened his mouth, and still asked, “Asta?”

She turned to him with a quiet, “Hm?” not even seeming to be upset that he’d cut her off. He figured that was a good thing, given he wanted her happy when he put his question to her. But oh, how to ask this? How to even begin?

“What do you think you will do when all this is over, hm?” he settled on, tilting his head just a bit. She gave a thoughtful hum, and turned to look at the fire in front of him. 

After a few moments debating, she turned back and asked him, “What will you do?”

“That was not the question,” he answered with a chuckle. “I want to know what you want after this.”

She sighed and returned her gaze to the fire, the flames lighting up her face with their red glow, and reflecting in her eyes. “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “Part of me wishes to return to Wessex, and visit my brother. But at the same time… I’m not certain I’d be very welcome there anymore.”

Ivar’s brows creased together some as he asked, “Why would you not be welcome there now?”

“I’ve made quite a name for myself as your Queen, don’t you think? No doubt he’s been told that I’m with you, as opposed to in Kattegat with your brothers. If word has travelled to Kattegat of what I’m called here, then word may reach him, and I don’t know that he’d want to receive me now. Not to mention, we live together as though we’re husband and wife, without being… They’re liable to condemn me as an apostate.”

Asta chuckled, but Ivar could tell it lacked all humor. She was anxious, nervous about what her life since she’d left Wessex might have done to the relationship she had with her final living relative. He could sort of relate to that, having lost all his brothers either to death or simply falling out. His hand moved to rest on her leg, meant to be a comforting gesture, and Asta smiled and covered his hand with her own, taking it. Now, he thought. Now is the time.

“We could… always change that, you know,” he began. 

Asta’s brows creased as she turned to him and asked, “Change what?”

He swallowed. “You say it would offend your people, and possibly drive a wedge between yourself and your brother, if it was discovered that we lived together as though we were married, when we are not,” he said. “But we could…” Her face fell, and something cold seized his heart.

“Ivar,” she said. “No, I don’t mean to say that I want to stop. Believe me, I don’t… I don’t know how I’d go back to life before this. Being with you like this, it’s good. It makes me happy. I never felt alone before, but I know now that if I lost this, I would. I’d rather they mistake me for an apostate than lose this.”

Ivar shook his head, and turned to face her more, reaching across so he could take both her hands in his. “Asta, that is not my meaning. My meaning is that, we could change how they would see us living together this way.” Her eyes widened a bit as she seemed to realise where he was leading with this, and her lips parted slightly.

“Ivar…” she managed, but he held her hands a little tighter, and pushed through.

“Asta, if we were married, they would have no way to criticise the way we behave. And nothing would have to change. We live as husband and wife as it is, and we tell all we encounter here that we are. Why should we not be?” he questioned. “Asta, marry me.”

Her hands tightened in his, and he could see a thousand thoughts running behind her eyes, almost as if she were trying to calculate if this could work. Eventually, she managed to say, “You realize I never want to marry a second time, yes? So if I say yes right now, and we do it…”

She was considering it. Somehow, he’d not believed he would even get this far with it, and yet she was actually considering the possibility.

“I can’t lose you,” she finished. “I know I’ve said so before, but I mean it more so than ever if I agree to this. If we were wed, I could not stand to lose you. I don’t want you to offer this just to save my dignity before my brother and the people of Wessex. I may already be outcasted enough for having become, essentially, Viking. So if you’re only doing this for that reason, and don’t truly want to be my husband… Please, say so now, and we’ll leave it be.”

Ivar shook his head. “We would have to wait until all is done here, as to marry now would reveal we have not been married all along, and it would ruin the little trust we have with Oleg. But when this is done, before we return to Wessex, we could be married.”

Asta smiled at him, in such a way as she seemed about to say yes, but then her face fell, and she sighed. “You can’t know how badly I wish to say yes right now,” she confessed. “I want to say yes, to marry you somewhere between Rus and Wessex, and to truly become your Queen. But if we are honest, do we think Alfred will approve of this? I may have all but given up my titles, but that’s here. In Wessex, they will still expect me to uphold those traditions. You would be expected to ask Alfred to wed me, as no other relatives of mine still live.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes a bit. “You are a Viking Queen,” he said. “Why should you need the permission of a Saxon King to marry, huh?”

Asta gave a small chuckle and shook her head. “I’m not a Viking Queen,” she reminded him. “It’s a story we fabricated to protect us, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Ivar said, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. “You are my Queen, and when we take Kattegat back from my brothers, I want you to be Kattegat’s Queen, too.”

Asta swallowed, and for a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in a world where she could simply say yes. So, she smiled, covered his hand with hers, and leaned slightly toward him. It came as no shock to her when Ivar leaned in fully, and captured her lips with his.

For the night, Asta decided, she would believe she could be whatever she wished, and she would let herself believe that she could be his.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @sylki-simp, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @kingniazx, @dekusdante

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Soul of a Lion (Chapter 8)

Sequel to The Smallest Blade.

Summary: After the Red Lion steals them away from the Marmora base and takes them through a wormhole, Shiro, Keith, Katla, and Lance find themselves in front of a majestic castle with nowhere to go but inside. The events that unfold while they’re there will change the fate of the universe.

Also posted on AO3 under the username “kishirokitsune”.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

8 | Picnic on the Shore

Lance was pretty sure that he looked as miserable as he felt, but after his nap with the four mice he didn't have time to do more than splash some water on his face and smooth out his borrowed clothing in an attempt to make it look a little less rumpled. (It only slightly worked, but Lance couldn't bring himself to feel too upset about his disheveled appearance at that moment.) At least Allura was the only one who would see him in such a sorry state.

The room was easy enough to find, especially with the Princess waiting for him at the door and taking away his one final chance at escape.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted, lamely lifting his hand before dropping it back to his side.

Allura turned and faced him with a smile. “I'm glad you joined me, Lance. I'll admit, I was a little worried that you would change your mind.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice. Not if we want to find another Lion,” Lance said, knowing his tone was flat and unable to bring himself to fix that. He took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do, princess?”

The answer turned out to be meditation, which seemed simple enough. At least it meant Lance wouldn't have to try and carry on a conversation with her, though it did mean sitting still and trying to clear his mind enough for her to connect with him. Which was a problem, because he didn't truly want her to connect with him.

Mostly it was the fear that she'd get a clear look into his head and find out the truth, and he was far from ready for that to come out.

But he'd promised himself and Keith that he would try his best, so Lance uneasily settled down in the center of the room and held Allura's hands. Clearing his mind long enough to properly meditate was more of a challenge than usual, but after a half-varga or so he felt that familiar floating sensation. He breathed out slowly as a form began to take shape in the unfamiliar inky darkness and soon Allura was there in front of him, her long hair billowing around her as though they were underwater.

(Lance wondered if it was the result of their combined mental landscapes. His was normally much brighter, as though he were high in the clouds and resting on a floor of reflective water.)

Lance looked up and saw a web of brightly colored string crisscrossing above him. “Huh, so that's what that looks like.”

“Oh, good! Katla and Shiro already told you what we're looking for!” Allura said, sounding pleased.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance lied. “We're... looking for a string?”

“Specifically, a glowing one,” Allura said, turning her gaze to the web. “It may be faint and rather difficult to see. The two unclaimed Lions are the Blue and Yellow ones, which should make things easier for us.”

Lance took that to mean that the strings would be the same color. Good. That would help it go more quickly and then he could go and... and do something else. The temptation to retreat back to his room was strong but it also wasn't helping him feel any better. He thought back to the quick list he made, trying to remember if finding Katla or talking to Hunk was the second step. After a moment, he picked Katla, if only to give his frazzled nerves a quick break.

“...the outer ones.”

Lance guiltily snapped his attention back to Allura, who didn't seem to have noticed his lapse. What was she saying? Something about “outer ones”? Was she still talking about the strings?

He looked up again, taking note of the way the web formed. Everything eventually linked up to a hexagonal shape in the center, crisscrossing and wrapping around to form what looked very much like a spider web, including the supporting strands that stretched out into the distance. There was a massive and bright cluster that Lance assumed led to his home, a smaller cluster that was possibly the Blade of Marmora HQ, and then a few rogue ones that were all by themselves. (Maybe the members of the Blade who weren't at HQ?)

Lance walked until he was standing beneath one of the single blue strands, taking a moment to examine it and see if he could spot a glow around it. He moved on after a few ticks, checking each and every one of the blue or yellow strands along the way. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Allura doing the same.

And then, finally, he saw it. A soft haze of pale blue around a dark blue string.

He was a Paladin.

Lance's breath caught in his throat as he reached out to the strand and then suddenly the world shifted around them. The other strings vanished into the distance as they were whisked along through space, rocketing past galaxy after galaxy. He could hear Allura struggling to name each of them as they whipped by.

And then everything began to slow. They passed by a massive gaseous planet with rings. Another with swirling red clouds. A dusty red one.

The string led to a pretty blue planet with wisps of white clouds and bursts of green from landmasses.

That was where the Blue Lion was hidden.

“It's beautiful,” Allura said softly. “I wonder what it's called. This is far beyond the range of space we explored ten thousand years ago. I hope I can find it on the star map.”

Lance didn't know what to say to that. He almost volunteered to help her, but was that something he could handle? It wasn't completely awful to be alone with her – not the way he thought it would be – and it wouldn't be the end of the world if they spent a little more time together. He sighed and shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his pants. Baby steps, he reminded himself. “If it does give you trouble we could just do this again, couldn't we?”

Allura's eyes lit up. “We could! Actually, would you mind if we follow the strand back to the center point? I want to make sure I'm remembering everything correctly.”

Lance took one last look at the mystery planet and then nodded, once again reaching up as though to touch the glowing blue string.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Arus was easily one of the more beautiful places Keith had ever had the privilege of setting foot on. (Not that there were many of them.) The wildlife within the bubble was sparse, with just a few birds and some short greenery, maybe a tree or two, but beyond the cliffside where the Castle of Lions rested were beautiful fields and a sprawling forest. There was also a village full of tiny beings that Keith and Lance had taken to calling the “Arusians” but it didn't seem like they strayed too far from the plains where they built their homes.

It was only because Keith thought it was safe that he invited Katla out for a picnic. Being in a new and unfamiliar place was no excuse to ignore their courtship and he wanted to start it out the right way.

Katla looked equal parts intrigued  and unimpressed with being “out in the wilderness”, as she phrased it, for the first time. She'd gone her entire life living in synthetic environments and surrounded by technology, so it was a complete change of pace for her and one that Keith intended to make memorable.

“I guess it's kind of pretty,” Katla murmured as they passed by a flowering bush. She slowed down and breathed in, smiling at the pleasant scent before immediately sneezing – it was a tiny, delicate sneeze and Keith had to turn away so she wouldn't see his grin and think that he was making fun of her for it.

“I'm glad you like it,” he said. “We don't have to go much farther. The spot I picked is just up the hill and under that big tree.”

Katla rubbed her nose and looked at the flowers with a little more wariness in her gaze. “I wouldn't say it's going to become my favorite thing, but I don't hate it.”

Keith grinned at her. “We've only been out here for five doboshes. Give it a little more time.”

“Fine,” Katla agreed, crinkling up her nose. “But only because I trust you.”

He'd know that for a long time, but hearing her state it in a way that was so matter-of-fact brought a flush to his face. He looked away and adjusted the basket he was carrying into a more comfortable position.

They walked to the top of the hill in comfortable silence. Once they got there, Katla unfolded the thick blanket they borrowed from the Castle and spread it out across the grass before she eagerly sat down in the shade. Keith set down the basket near one of the edges and then joined her before opening the basket and pulling out the food and drinks that he pilfered from the kitchen that morning. (Okay, so Hunk caught him halfway through packing everything up and insisted on helping, so it wasn't really pilfering but Keith could pretend.)

“Please tell me that isn't nunvil,” Katla said, dread creeping into her voice as she pointed to the bottle of reddish liquid.

Keith quickly shook his head. “It's some kind of juice that Hunk made. I tried some before I packed it and it's pretty good. Mostly sweet with just a bit of tartness. Hang on...” He paused to retrieve a pair of cups and handed one to Katla, who immediately poured one for each of them.

She took a cautious sip and her expression melted into one of bliss. “Never tell my mom I said this, but the food here is so much better than anything we grow back home.”

That was one secret Keith was happy to keep. He liked living.

He picked up a basket of berries that had a slight coating of some sort of sweet and thickened sauce. Hunk had insisted on making them for him, saying that it was a staple of romantic dates and that Keith should hand feed one to Katla. It sounded silly to Keith but he figured that there was no harm in giving it a try.

“Here, try one of these,” he said, plucking one out of the basket and holding it up.

Katla reached out to take it and raised an eyebrow when Keith shook his head and pulled it away.

“I, uh, I'm supposed to feed it to you,” Keith said.

Katla still looked a little puzzled, but lowered her hand to her lap and leaned forward, opening her mouth once Keith pressed the berry near her lips. She took a tentative bite, humming a little as she savored the flavor, and then finished off the rest. “Interesting... Your turn now!”

Keith held out the basket so she could choose one for him and then obediently leaned forward to accept the berry from her hand. The coating was sweet, with a slight bitterness to it that only served to compliment the natural flavor of the berry; altogether a tasty treat. It was only the act of eating it from Katla's fingers that felt strange.

He sat back and put the basket between them so they could enjoy the rest at their leisure.

“So, what brought this on?” Katla asked, gesturing to the food around them.

“I...” Keith's voice faltered for just a moment. He took a deep breath as he met her eyes. “Katla, two decaphoebs ago I asked if you would accept my courtship once you came of age and earned a place as a member of the Blade of Marmora. I was going to ask you after your Trial, but then we ended up here in the Castle and have been busy ever since. Now that we have some time to ourselves, I am officially asking: may I court you?” Without taking his eyes off of her, he held out his hand.

Almost immediately, Katla slid her hand into his, an effortlessly bright smile upon her face as she nodded. “Yes!”

And with that great weight lifted from Keith's shoulders, their picnic continued on.

They kept the conversation light and casual as they enjoyed the food and pleasant weather, both needing a break from the constant talk about the Lions and whether or not the Alteans would ever be able to trust them or how they would maintain contact with Kolivan and her family. Instead, they brought up old stories and joked about what lengths Slav would go through next in order to see Shiro again.

“I just don't get it,” Katla remarked, shaking her head. “Shiro's cool and I feel lucky to have him as my mentor, but sometimes Slav invents these ridiculous reasons why it has to be Shiro who flies him to another location.”

Keith chuckled as he finished off the last of his juice. As he reached out to put the cup back into the basket, movement from the pond down the hill caught his attention. He looked a little closer, watching the ripples on the surface of the water, one hand reaching for his dagger, and relaxed when a massive fish jumped out of the water and landed with a heavy splash.

Katla jumped in surprise. “What was that?!”

“Some kind of fish,” Keith said, continuing to track its movement. If it stayed near the surface, maybe they could go down and catch it. It wouldn't be the most romantic activity for their first date, but it would be nice to have some tasty fresh fish.

It jumped again and Keith caught sight of a ribbon of purple painted across its side. In that moment, Keith realized what he was looking at and knew that they weren't going back to the Castle until it was flopping in his arms.

“Wait, is that...?” Katla trailed off, her voice full of wonder. “I've never seen one that big. We're going to catch it, right? That's enough to feed us and Shiro for days!”

“We don't know for sure if it's a daagti or not,” Keith pointed out.

Daagti were a type of rare fish that were a delicacy to the Galra. They had soft flesh that had a melt-in-your-mouth quality once cooked and a high amount of protein that was especially valuable to young cubs. For the Blade of Marmora, it was a dish saved for those who needed it most – particularly those who were recovering from injury and occasionally for a young cub who needed the nutrients.

Keith had the privilege of eating it more than once upon his arrival to their Headquarters, but it stopped once he reached the proper weight and height for a half-Galra his age – not that he was underweight before, but apparently the nutritional needs of a human child and Galra cub were very different. He remembered going with Kolivan to pick out which fish he wanted and seeing how small and how few they all were. There were only so many they were capable of raising at once and while they were fairly fast growers, they were also in high demand.

Katla was already on her feet, her tail twitching in interest as she began walking down the gentle slope towards the pond. Keith was fast to follow in her footsteps while keeping a close eye on the fish. The pond was a decent size. If they lost sight of it, they were unlikely to find it again.

“We need a plan,” Keith told her. “How are we going to catch this thing?”

Katla slowed down a little. “Good question. Maybe we could use our blades? If we come at it from an angle and herd it towards the shore then it has less opportunity to slip away from us. Stabbing it might be our best bet.”

“Worth a shot,” Keith agreed. He removed his dagger from its sheath and, in one fluid motion, transformed it to its sword form.

Katla drew her stiletto blade and held it in front of her for a moment before flicking the point and smiling as it shifted into a curved sword with an ornate guard. With unspoken agreement, she moved to the left while Keith went left and they slowly entered the water.

It was all very anticlimactic after that and both Keith and Katla agreed to embellish it for all of their retellings because it all went exactly as Katla planned. They drove the fish towards the shore, which made it flop around more in a futile escape attempt, and then Keith speared it through the head until it stopped moving.

It was too big for either of them to lift on their own, so once they hefted it onto the grass Katla ran back up the hill for the blanket and they used it to drag the fish back to the castle with minimal effort while also carrying the basket.

Shiro spotted them on their way to the kitchen and came to a dead stop. “What's going on?”

“Nothing!” Keith said defensively.

“We caught dinner!” Katla chirped.

Shiro raised an eyebrow as though he didn't believe them  - which was only fair after all of the shenanigans they got up to as cubs – but rapidly changed his tune once he got a look at what they had dragged back to the Castle. He stepped in to help them take it the rest of the way and then helped filet it into more manageable pieces, some of which were set aside for dinner while the rest was put away into stasis. (That didn't stop him from eyeing the smallest of the cuts, wishing he could try a piece then and there instead of waiting.)

“Where did you find this, anyway?” he asked instead.

Katla left it up to Keith to explain how they were picnicking near the skinny end of a massive lake. She would jump in if he needed any help with their embellished tale about wrestling the massive fish onto the shore, but he didn't seem to have any problems.

She smiled to herself as she began moving the fish into the stasis chamber.

She and Keith were officially courting.

It felt - well, not inevitable exactly - like they were on the path that they'd always been heading towards. Their transition from friendship to courtship was easy for them because they already knew where they stood with one another. It was something she'd been dreaming of for years, even before he promised to ask once she passed her Trial and there was a part of her that thought they would have to push it back thanks to their untimely arrival on Arus, but Keith managed to surprise her in the best way possible.

In their world of uncertainties, it was nice to know that there was one constant she could rely on.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Allura called everyone to the Bridge for a meeting just before dinner.

There were no looks of surprise or curiosity as they all shuffled onto the deck, which left Allura to assume that they all expected a meeting of some kind. Lance, who had been with her when she decided to make the call, had picked a wall to lean against while they waited and it was to him that Shirotak, Katla, and Keith flocked once they arrived. Hunk stood somewhere in-between and was joined by Coran, who was the last to arrive simply because he had been in the lowest part of the Castle of Lions, where he continued his examination of the engines.

Allura serenely folded her hands in front of her as she looked over the future Paladins and hoped that she was doing the right thing by trusting them.

Once she had everyone's attention, Allura activated the star map to show off the carefully placed markers she'd taken the time to set up. Each one showed where one of the Lions were located – all but the Yellow one. The Black and Red Lions were shown on Arus, which was in the center of the map. The Green Lion wasn't too far away on a planet lush with flora, but on the other side of the room was the planet holding the Blue Lion.

“As you can see, we have successfully found two more of the Lions. This leaves only the Yellow Lion without a Paladin.” She paused to let her words sink in as well as to brace herself for the aftershock of her next idea. “I've given it some thought and it is my belief that the Yellow Paladin is in this room.”

Allura noted with some interest that Shirotak's gaze slid to Hunk. Good. She could use someone to back her up. She took a deep breath and also looked at Hunk, whose gaze reflected confusion at first but swiftly turned to mild horror. “Hunk,” she said softly, even as he started to shake his head in denial.

“You're wrong,” he croaked.

“Hunk, there could be no better choice for the Yellow Lion. You share many of the qualities that Gyrgan...” She choked up a little but plowed on. “Traits that the previous Yellow Paladin exemplified. Your strong will and mighty heart make you the only one right for the job in my eyes and I do not doubt that the Yellow Lion feels the same.”

Coran gently placed a hand on Hunk's shoulders when the dark-haired Altean continued to struggle with the idea. “He would be proud to know that you are here to follow in his footsteps.”

Hunk looked around the room in search of help but found only friendly, smiling faces urging him to give it a try. Even Lance gave him a nod and attempted a smile. Hunk's shoulders slumped in defeat and he nodded. “Okay... but only if this is what the Yellow Lion wants.”

Allura clapped her hands together in relief. She'd honestly been expecting a drawn out battle, filled with plenty of pleading looks and perhaps a hint of bribery.

“So, does this mean you guys are going to the garden?” Katla asked.

Allura shook her head. “No, if you don't mind waiting, I believe Hunk and I will be able to connect here. This won't be the first time we've connected our mental landscapes, so I don't think it will take us long at all.”

“Why don't I show you all some of the controls while we wait!” Coran said eagerly. “Each of you has a seat around the main console from which you can control small drones for exploration and reconnaissance!”

Allura and Hunk left the others to their new task while they retreated to a corner so they would be out of the way. They decided to sit on the floor rather than stay standing since neither of them were sure how long it would take.

Luckily, it wasn't long before Allura found herself in a familiar hallway lined with old-fashioned, wood shuttered windows. Each one had a letter and a symbol embossed on the surface – Hunk's preferred way of organizing his mental landscape. The windows represented the people around him and he could open or close them at will, depending on whether or not he wanted a better “look” at their emotional state. The one nearest to her had the first glyph of her name and the image of a Juniberry flower in full bloom.

She didn't touch it, despite the temptation to do so, and instead made her way to the end of the hall, which branched off into numerous winding directions. Hunk was standing just inside one of those branches and was nervously shifting from foot to foot.

“Do you feel drawn towards a particular direction?” Allura asked.

“I... maybe?” Hunk sounded unsure. “It feels like there's something over this way, but I haven't wanted to go look.”

Allura nodded in understanding. He'd mentioned in passing that his mental shields weren't in great shape after sleeping for so long – even if that amount of time felt like nothing to them in stasis, it still had an effect on them. (She wasn't back to her full strength either.) It was reflected in the way the halls of his mind darkened as they progressed away from the main area.

The shutters of the windows were broken. Cobwebs were strung across the corners where the walls met the floor. The starry sky above them grew dim.

Allura shivered and tried not to look too hard at the windows they passed by – the windows that showed a broken connection to all of those they had lost. She only stopped when Hunk's sharp inhale broke the silence and his footsteps stuttered to a halt.

There was one window that wasn't broken. The shutters were painted a cheerful yellow and in the very center was the raised, detailed face of a Lion.

They had found him.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

But of course, it wasn't as easy as immediately leaving to retrieve all of the Lions. They needed a plan first and ideally, a full night of sleep before any of them set off for far-away planets. Katla's disappointment was palpable in the air, but luckily Shirotak found a way to distract her. (Something about a fish for dinner? Clearly, there was something Allura had missed.)

“In order to reach each of these worlds I will have to create wormholes,” Allura told them, gesturing broadly to the star map glowing around them. “The only downside to this is that we will also have to lower the Castle shields, which will leave us vulnerable to the enemy. They will be able to pick up on the energy signature the Castle gives off. We will have to move quickly to retrieve the Lions and bring them back here. I need each of you to be prepared for a fight.”

“The Castle of Lions isn't ready for flight, but the weapons systems are all in tip-top shape and ready to provide support,” Coran said.

Allura nodded. “Good. We may need it.” She paused and looked over everyone, who looked a little dismayed with the idea of needing to immediately fight upon finding the Lions. It wasn't an ideal situation by any stretch.

“Go and enjoy your evenings,” she said. “Tomorrow morning we find the Lions.”

Maybe she should practice giving more inspirational speeches. No one looked particularly enthused as they left the Bridge. Allura sighed and took her time turning off the star map, allowing herself a moment to get lost in her thoughts.

As she turned to leave, she caught sight of the four mice tumbling in from one of the vents near the floor. She could feel their excitement as they raced over to her and she knelt down to pick them up, all the while trying to make some sense of what they were trying to communicate. She could understand them but since they didn't speak using words it took a little bit of creative interpretation on her part.

“A picnic?” Allura asked. She smiled when Chuchule twirled around in her palm and fell against Platt. “That's really sweet. And you say Shirotak and Hunk bonded over the training deck? Ah, over Hunk showing him how it functions. Yes, that makes more sense. And... wait, slow down. What are you saying about Lance?”

There was so much squeaking, so many different thoughts bombarding her at once that it was hard to parse through. Finally, Chulatt elbowed the others aside and they went quiet.

Allura's eyes went wide and she sucked in a gasp, struggling to accept what he was telling her. “Lance is... Lance is a what?!”

[besanii]

double happiness at your door

part one | part two | part three

He eventually catches onto what Lan Wangji is doing around the fifth time he tries to broach the subject of their “engagement” with him.

It’s frankly embarrassing, and rather irritating, how easily he’s been played. Okay, so maybe he’d been a little bit at fault for dragging Lan Wangji into this whole mess in the first place, but in his defence Yu Ziyuan is truly terrifying and he’d needed an excuse to get her off his back. He had fully intended to apologise to Lan Wangji and then explain the situation to Jiang Fengmian and his parents and that would be the end of that. He had not expected Lan Wangji to play along. And so enthusiastically too.

Was this payback for putting him in an awkward situation? How far was Lan Wangji planning on taking this?

He wasn’t seriously expecting them to get married right?

Lan Wangji’s fingers pause above the strings of his guqin when Wei Wuxian confronts him about it.

“If people believe we are engaged, you will not need to attend further matchmaking appointments,” he says, looking up at Wei Wuxian calmly. “Unless you want to continue seeing other suitors?”

He lips are pressed together in a thin line, almost as if he were...displeased? That can’t be right. Why would Lan Wangji be displeased? It’s not as if he’s the one who has to entertain a long line of boring suitors who probably wouldn’t be able to to fight their way out of a paper bag. Wei Wuxian rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Not really,” he admits. “But that’s not fair to you at all! We can’t have people thinking you’re marrying me. That would be...”

...preposterous.

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from finishing that sentence, a sour taste in his mouth. Of course. Lan Wangji is the second prince of the Nine Heavens, an immortal of prodigious talent who had ascended to the rank of High Immortal at the young age of twenty thousand, the youngest ascension in the history of all the realms. Wei Wuxian had not been far behind, of course, but Lan Wangji was also a master of the four arts, the sword, not to mention the most beautiful man Wei Wuxian has ever—

His cheeks heat. Nope. Not going there.

Lan Wangji frowns at him.

“That would be what?” he asks. His hand twitches over the strings of his guqin as he fixes Wei Wuxian with a long, piercing stare.

Wei Wuxian squirms.

“...crazy,” he finishes lamely. “No one will believe it.”

He hears Lan Wangji sigh and his heart sinks. Of course no one would believe it. Everyone knows Lan Wangji can’t stand him; the majority of their interactions are him talking at Lan Wangji until Lan Wangji sighs in exasperation. If he were less of a gentleman, he’d probably be rolling his eyes. People would more likely believe an engagement with Jin Zixuan than with Lan Wangji, and Jin Zixuan was already engaged!

“It doesn’t have to be you,” he assures Lan Wangji. His inside churn miserably at the thought. “We can tell people you broke off the engagement because you realised our personalities aren’t compatible. I can find someone else to—”

A hand lands heavily on the top of his head, cutting him off mid-sentence. He blinks. He hadn’t even seen Lan Wangji move, and yet here he was, in his personal space, staring at him with a dark, unreadable expression in his amber eyes. 

“No one else,” he says. Wei Wuxian gapes.

“B-But—”

“No one else,” he repeats firmly. Wei Wuxian finds himself nodding in surprise; Lan Wangji smiles, pleased. “If you want people to believe we are engaged, you will need to do a better job at convincing them.”

“Huh? What do you—”

He squeaks when Lan Wangji bends down without a second word and sweeps him into his arms. His own arms automatically wrap around Lan Wangji’s neck, bringing their faces close enough that he can feel his breath across his cheek. Lan Wangji looks at him impassively and quirks an eyebrow when Wei Wuxian blushes all the way to the roots of his hair.

In the distance, they can hear the startled gasps and excited whispers of passing maids.

“What are you doing?” Wei Wuxian says shrilly, struggling. Lan Wangji only tightens his grip. “Lan Zhan, we’re in public! Put me down—people will see!”

“Let them,” Lan Wangji says. He turns and starts walking down the paved garden path with Wei Wuxian in his arms. “Now no one will doubt the engagement.”

Wei Wuxian buries his face in Lan Wangji’s shoulder to muffle his wail of despair.

// buy me a ko-fi //

[tae-cup]

Candle | MYG Oneshot

Inspired by: Cavetown’s “Candle”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader 

Summary: You met him at the lowest point in your life. He was your candle, your light, and he helped you fly to the clouds. 

Warnings:  TRIGGER WARNING (I write my emotions and my dark thoughts, I write my pain and sturggles, but please don’t hurt yourself, okay? If any of you readers need to talk, please just shoot me a message. I’m a listening ear.) Angst, Hurt/Recovery Au, Depressing thoughts, Thoughts of Suicide, and last but not least Fluff, Please if you are struggling, reach out :) (HOTLINES)

Word Count: 4.3k Words

A/N: Please reach out if you’re struggling. I understand because I’ve struggled with these thoughts and this is my form of release. I really don’t want to trigger anyone. I care for all my readers and I want you to know that this beginning part may be the darkest thing I’ve written in a while, but I swear to you, this has a happy ending. 

Other: Masterlist

Every time I screw up I feel I've let down all my friends Stumbling through a thousand stars and neon cars break through my skull There's so much life out here in space it's crazy that we're here at all

    You can skip this beginning part if you would just like to read about recovery

             It seemed like running away from your problems was the only thing you could do. It wasn’t even just speculation, it was the truth, evident through many many occasions where you metaphorically and literally ran away. 

      The first instance would have been when you were just 10 years old. Your parents were fighting again; smashed plates, drunken screams. So you managed to slip out undetected and you ran. You ran so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Everyone at school had always spoken about how beautiful love is. How they want to fall in love, get married, maybe become famous. 

       But it was at this moment that you decided that love was awful. If that’s what love did to people, why would you want that? As result, you were...emotionally stunted. Rash, unreasonable, guarded. 

        You found yourself running again in seventh grade. Kim Seokjin gave you flowers and sheepishly asked you out. No. No. No. The words rang in your head. Love is awful. You thought as you curled into a ball. It was making you cry. And you feared the ache in your chest would never go away, a forever hole in your heart. Love hurt other people. Seokjin was hurting because of it, or maybe because of you, but your mind watered it down to it being because of love. 

         Throughout high school you refused to let love into your life, to even try. It wasn’t worth it to you. What was the point if you were just going to break it off anyway? Surely you would never survive college. Besides, it wasn’t like you had a line of people wanting to date you. 

           Then college came around and left. You spent the entire time huddled in your studies and maybe going out with friends. You still ran from your problems, your insecurities. You were terrified. Terrified that whatever unfathomable anger your parents had was also passed down to you, that you’d hurt people like they hurt each other. 

           It’s better this way. You thought to yourself as you returned to your empty apartment. 

           It’s better this way. You thought at you watched the happy couple order their coffees. 

          It’s better this way. You thought as you turned down a man with roses and a boxy smile. 

         It’s better if you don’t fuck up someone else’s life like you’ve fucked up your own. The world was a scary place and you just wanted to get by. Happiness meant nothing to you. Everything was black and white. The world felt heavy on your shoulders and you knew no one could possibly help you hold it up.  

         What’s the point anymore? A waste of space. Years of pushing everyone away had finally worked. Now you were alone. No new messages, no phone calls, just empty space. You were stuck in a dead end job and it wasn’t like anyone would notice if you disappeared. 

        You sat in the bathtub, water turning cold, knees drawn in. If you slid under, would anyone notice? Would your body even have the strength to struggle if you inhaled the soapy water? If you let it drown you? 

         What if you took the kitchen knife and...You shivered. No. Your subconscious whispered. 

          Shut up. The monster responded. The monster was dark, a curling shadow the infested your mind. It wouldn’t be long until it grew to fill all the space in your mind; every corner, every turn. Every time you locked it away, it burst back stronger than before. When would it end?

           You didn’t want the pain anymore. You didn’t want to die, you just wanted it all to stop. Maybe that’s why you were in the hospital. Maybe that’s why you were now surrounded by a group of adults around your age, all dressed casually and sitting on plastic chairs in a circle. 

           “Mina, why don’t you go next?” The woman who ran the group smiled. Her name was slipping your mind. She had introduced herself a while ago, but you hadn’t been paying attention. Instead, your attention was on a boy you went to high school with. Min Yoongi. 

          The young girl known as Mina fidgeted restlessly. Her fingers curled in and out, clutching the hem of her white shirt with unease. 

           “I...today...” She searched for the right words. Everyone was silent, only a few people looking at the girl. The rest were either staring at the ceiling or the ground. You were trying to figure out how much long you had to stay here. You had always known you were unwell mentally, but you didn’t think it was this bad. 

          That was until you were brought to the hospital with blood pooling around your wrists and cold water in your hair. It hadn’t been thought out, per say, you just didn’t want to continue on, not like this. None of the people here care about what you’re saying. No one is here to listen. They want to leave as badly as you do. The monster whispered. 

          And you intended to leave soon. You didn’t know what you were going back to, but you didn’t want to spend three months in this place. The entire building felt like a hospital with bare rooms and the bare minimum necessities. You couldn’t even shower without someone standing in the room, back faced away from you. Your phone was taken away, but it wasn’t like anyone was contacting you. 

           “Today, I didn’t feel the need to, uh, you know.” Mina whispered, head tilting down. The woman smiled at her approvingly. 

             “That’s wonderful improvement, Mina. You’re doing so well.” 

             “Thank you.” The girl murmured back, every word getting quieter. You didn’t want to share, you didn’t want to let these strangers into your head, you already enough strangers in there. 

              “Y/N?” The woman turned to you. Her blonde hair was pulled into a crisp bun, not a hair out of place. 

             “Pass.” You said lamely, slumping in your seat. You could feel a heated stare from across the circle and you spotted Yoongi looking at you. He locked eyes and you had no choice but to look away out of pure discomfort. 

             “Okay, but please do consider opening up to the group. We’re all here to support you.” She smiled warmly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You knew she was getting frustrated. A full month and no improvement. 

            “I don’t want to, I won’t ever. I’ve handled my problems just fine before so I’d appreciate if you’d let me do that.” You snapped back. Why can’t they just understand you? See, it’s just another room of people who don’t care. 

            Your fingers itched to dig into the pad of your thumb. That’s how it all started, right? You went numb a long time ago, it was hopeless impassiveness. 

           “Please think about it.” The woman noted something onto her clipboard. She went down the list of names and tapped her pen on a name. “Yoongi?” 

            The male frowned and shifted uncomfortably. He had pitch black, curly hair and bangs that hung loosely in front of his face. He was like you. He hadn’t said much, but there had been a noticeable shift in how he acted. You didn’t even realize that you had been studying how he moved, how he ticked, but you realized it now. He sat up straighter, no longer lazily avoiding questions. The man even tried to interact with you a couple times, but you immediately turned him down. No one wants to be friends with a monster. 

           “Today...today I felt better.” Was all he said, a soft expression passing over his face before he went back to his blank expression. The woman couldn’t hide her excitement at the progress. 

           “That’s great, Yoongi! Keep it up and let me know if there are any issues.” She said, her voice hurried and almost giddy. 

           He simply nodded swiftly and went back to staring at you, or maybe the wall behind you, you couldn’t tell. Your fingers dug into the palms of your hand. Why are you the only one not making progress? 

           “Well, I think that’s all we have time for.” The woman looked at her watch. “Let me know if you want to talk,” She looked pointedly at you. “My door is always open.” 

          She seemed nice enough, just...overly excited. It came across as fake, forced, and certainly not genuine. She gathered her things and left the room, big double doors swinging behind her. 

             You watched her leave and when she was out of sight, you relaxed more. The others in the group got up and went to watch T.V. or play games. Yoongi and you were frozen in place. He was burning you alive with his eyes and you were trying your best to put out the flames. He slowly stood and walked over to you, standing close enough that you had no choice but to look at him. 

              Surprisingly, the expression he wore was not intimidating. It came across as soft, almost kind. He held out his hand and your eyes trailed to where his sleeves hitched up slightly. White lines of faded scars, scars made from sharp razors, peppered his skin. You didn’t mention it. Your arms were marked the same way. 

              “Y/N?”

              “Hm?” 

             “I recognize you from high school.” He said nonchalantly. “Want to get lunch and catch up?” 

             “No thanks.” No. No. No. Stop trying to get close to me. You averted your eyes, but that didn’t deter him. 

              “Y/N.” He breathed. “Come on. I just want to get to know you better.” 

              “No you don’t.” You bit back, hands clenching into fists. 

              “But I do. And if I cared about the dark thoughts in your head or the twisted caverns of your mind, we both wouldn’t be here.” 

             It was weird to hear someone describe their mind to you. You had always thought of your mind as a house and your bedroom where you slept had the worst demon. To hear him see his mind as caverns, twisting tunnels, and a maze, it was...informative. He’s lost. You’re trapped. One in the same. 

              “No thank you.” You repeated. “I’m going to my room to read.” You stood abruptly and left. 

             But he just doesn’t give up. It was actually a weird attribute for someone in the position you’re in right now, but you didn’t think much of it. He asked you every single day. No. No. No. 

              And one day, he wore you down. When he took your hand in his and led you to the cafeteria, you realized how much you craved physical affection. It made you feel out of control. And you dropped his hand like you were burned. You’re not supposed to let people get this close. Getting attached is stupid, what if you hurt them? 

             Yet, when you sat down with him and began talking about life, you could physically feel a weight pulling off your chest. You didn’t know when he took your hand, you didn’t realize, that he had rushed forward and taken some of the weight for himself. He dedicated his shoulders to help you hold your pains as well, he reached out and he cared. He cared for the girl he’d been obsessed with since high school. 

             It was a shock to see you in the same place as him. Why didn’t he see the signs? A question he would ask himself for a long time. 

          You couldn’t laugh. You physically couldn’t bring yourself to do it, even if you found something hilarious. It was like your chest was weighted down, refusing to do anything other than keep you alive and breathing. A month passed of sitting at lunch with Yoongi and then running to get as far away from him as possible. You’re getting sloppy. You thought, was it your thoughts or the monster’s? Perhaps you were the same person now. 

             It was after lights out. The hallways were dark, dead silent. You didn’t want to sleep. You couldn’t. You had another month and then you could leave, but they could sign a few papers and force you to stay if they didn’t think you were better. You couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel better. What is it like to feel anything? Your arms hung off your bed as you sprawled out on the single bed. There was a knock. The door was always unlocked, but everyone usually respected each other’s space. 

          “Yes?” You didn’t question who it was, you knew. 

          The door softly opened and then closed. In the darkness, your eyes struggled to see the outlines of him, but with how he was standing you knew it was Yoongi. 

          “Hey. How are you?” He murmured, he walked forward and plopped onto the ground in front of your bed. You didn’t turn to face him. 

         “I’m stuck in this place, what do you think?”

          “You can talk to me, you know?” 

         “I don’t want to talk, god, everyone just wants me to spill all of my life to them. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You said harshly, your voice hushed as to not be heard by the staff. 

         Again, Yoongi was not deterred. He stood and walked to your bedside. You turned your head to look at him. He crouched and took your hand in his. The moonlight filtered through the small window, illuminating his face and eyes that glowed in the darkness. He was staring at you and you felt your breath hitch. No. You wanted to look away but you were transfixed. Look away, goddamnit. No one wants to know your shit. But his warm hand didn’t stray from yours. You thought back to the cafeteria, all the small smiles of encouragement he gave you, the happy memories he was beginning to create. 

         But you don’t deserve those happy memories. You don’t deserve-

         “Want to see the stars with me, Y/N?” 

         Your train of thought halted. He smiled a little, eye glinting. You craned your neck to look out the small window, but at this angle it was impossible to see much except black. 

         “I’m not sure if they exist anymore.” You whispered, eyes locking with him. He squeezed your hand. 

         “They do, and you deserve to see them.”

          Stop, what are you doing? The monster hissed. 

          I’m not sure anymore. A new voice whispered. The monster was taken aback by a small light, small as a matchstick, floating into the room. All I need is a candle to light this place up. The matchstick whispered in your ear. 

          You nodded blankly, standing up and following him out the door, voices forgotten. 

           “Yoongi?”

           “Hm?” He doesn’t look at you. 

           You’re currently both sprawled side by side, arms and legs splayed like you’re making snow angels. Your eyes are taking in the sight above. The Milky Way shines in a brilliant streak across the sky. The stars are littering the darkness like flashlights twinkling on and off. 

            “It’s beautiful.” You breathe softly. All that’s there is the sound of the trees rustling around the building’s rooftop. 

            “I know.” 

            There’s a beat of silence. Then the gravel shifts underneath him as he turns over on his side to look at you. 

            “Tell me what happened.” He whispered. You shifted over to look at him as well. 

            “You don’t want to know. The things inside my head,” you paused, letting your eyes shut and a breath escape. “They’re monsters. And I can’t tell the difference between me and them.” 

            He nodded, holding eye contact. He reached over and interlaced your fingers with his. 

           “I think if people knew my thoughts, they’d run. So I do the job for them.” You relented, the walls slowly cracking. He had shared so much of himself with you, you felt the need to let him have a piece, but you didn’t want the whole dam to break. 

          “You’re not a monster, and no one’s going to shut you out.” He whispered. The dam cracked, water splashing over the top as it filed beyond capacity. 

          “My parents fought a lot and I fear their anger is in my genes. I refuse to hurt people.” You whispered, suddenly sitting up before the wall could crack further. “And that includes you.”

          “Wait, Y/N!”

          “Just stop, Yoongi. You’re only going to get yourself hurt.” You couldn’t even bring yourself to add anger to your words. It was just pure defeat. You were tired. So very tired.  

           “Y/N. You have someone here to see you?” A nurse knocked on your door. You often heard her knocking on others’ doors to say this exact line, but you never imagined it to be your own. 

          “Who?” 

          “She goes by a Mrs. Y/L/N.” 

          Your heart sped up. 

          “What?” 

          You followed the cheerful nurse down the hall in a daze, one foot after another. She came? She came? You ignored the gaze from Yoongi as you passed him. She came? She came? It was like a chant, a mantra. Your throat closed up at the thought of even seeing your mother. The woman who raised you, the one who made you terrified of love, but loved you endlessly. Nonsense. The monster whispered at that thought. It made you want to cry more. 

         She came? You turned the corner. Your eyes searched the room of visitors. It was quiet, murmurs of joy and sadness shaking from each group. Then you saw her, sitting in the back, not distracted, eyes searching for you. You can’t do this. You were shaking and the nurse paused, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

         “Are you alright?” 

        “I’m just...homesick.” The last word barely managed to get out, your mouth shutting to keep a sob inside. Your mother met your eyes and she didn’t move. You could barely breathe. 

          She came. You bit your lip hard to stop the tears from gathering more than needed. You were an adult. You hadn’t even spoken to her in two years, but there was no doubt that she represented your home, your childhood, years you could never relive again. You walked forward and sat in front of her. 

          You expected anger. Their eyes were always full of anger in your memories. Her skin was always cut from the dishes thrown to the ground. Her voice was always hoarse from the screaming; from the love that faded before her eyes, before your eyes. 

          You expected anger, but when you met her eyes, she was simply worried. Motherly concern written on her face. She looked you up and down.

          “Mom?” Your voice was small, like a child. She stood and went to your side. She crouched and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. Her hand caressed your head, her other wrapped around your waist. 

         “Shhh.” She whispered, but you could feel her wet tears on the back of your shirt. You slowly let your hands come up and wrap around her as well. You pulled her in close, tears flowing quickly, a pain in your chest letting itself out. You were a child again, running from the rain and darkness, running from the things that scared you most. 

         Your hands scrunched up the back of her shirt as you sobbed. 

        “I’m sorry.” You cried out. “I’m sorry.” 

        “It’s okay, It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” She held you. She wrapped her arms around your middle and let you release tears. A language that speaks when the words just aren’t enough. 

         “Once you’re out of here, once you’re better, I think you should come live with us again.” She whispered. 

        “Why?”

         “Because we love you.” 

          You pulled away, rubbing your nose on your sleeve. 

          “You don’t know what love is.” You said in disbelief, the words tumbling out before you can think. See, look at you messing up again. The words weren’t accusatory, they were spoken like the truth; the truth you had convinced yourself to believe. 

          “Yes, I do, Y/N.” She gently pushed back a strand of your hair, not showing any signs of pain. “Your father and I fought a lot, but we still love each other. Love is commitment. You can’t run away from it.”

          “Yes you can.” You insisted. “I’ve done it my entire life.”

          “Are you happy?” 

Silence. You could feel the lump in your throat coming back. She came back for you. She cared. She loves you and she wants you to come home. The matchstick sung. You refused to give it a candle. You were scared. Without the darkness, who would you be? Weren’t you and the monster one in the same? 

          “No.” You said quietly. 

          “Visiting hours are over.” The nurse said over the speaker and families bid their farewells as they left. 

          “I think that’s telling enough.” Your mother didn’t move for a moment. Then she slowly stood, taking you with her. “Get better, please. I love you, Y/N.” 

          You couldn’t move as she left. You watched her leave. Always gone. The monster whispered. 

            But she came back for you. The matchstick said softly. 

               “Yoongi?” 

              “Hm?” He looked up from his food as you walked over. You had spent so long eating in your room, isolating yourself, but you realized you missed talking to that dork. 

               His eyes traced your body, a confused look on his face. You set down your tray and sat with him. Avoiding him was getting you nowhere. You glanced at his short sleeves, then to the metal knife in his hand. He’s improving. You felt self conscious, but continued. 

              “You don’t like carrots, why did you get them?” He asked, eyeing your plate. You knew he liked them. You got them for him. And...you couldn’t help letting out a small chuckle. The sound was foreign. 

              “You’re doing well.” You said quietly, ignoring his confused stare. He nodded once. 

               “You as well.” He didn’t smile. You wanted to see his gummy smile again. You reached over hesitantly and placed your hand on his. His eyebrows shot up. 

              “When are you being discharged?” 

             “Next week.” 

             “Good job.” You ignored the sinking feeling in your stomach. You’re happy for him. Really. But it made you feel weak. This entire time you were trying to be strong, to shut everyone out, but maybe real strength was working to improve yourself. You don’t have that strength. Yet, the monster’s voice was weaker and the matchstick burned brighter.

             Just give me a candle and I’ll light this place up. The matchstick floated towards you. At this rate, I’ll burn up soon enough. 

            And you didn’t know if you would be able to recover if the matchstick burned out. 

              “Hey, Yoongi? Want to go see the stars tonight?” 

           The galaxy looked like if someone took a paint brush and smeared a streak of purple, pink, and white across a blank canvas. 

            “Sometimes, I think I’m just letting everyone down.” Not sometimes, all the time. 

            “What do you mean?” 

            “I chased away all my friends and everyone I cared about. Now look where I am.” You were sitting with your legs crossed while Yoongi laid down. “They probably hate me.”

            “I think if you reached out, they would still want to see you.” Yoongi said carefully. 

            “They don’t.” You said sharply before letting out a breath. “I don’t know what I’d go back to.” 

             “Your friends may not love you, but they care about you, right?” 

            “I haven’t spoken to them in years.”

            He mulled over this fact for a moment before sitting up right. 

            “Well you have me, and I love you. All of you.” His voice was firm and before you could speak, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, tugging you to his chest. You missed this. 

             “That can’t be right.” You murmured, but he heard you. 

             “It’s true.” He whispered, breath fanning across your neck and making you shiver. 

            “Why?” 

            “There isn’t a reason, it’s just the universe telling me something about you makes me feel right.” 

           You turn around and interlace your fingers with his, holding them up between you. 

            “Me too.” 

           Yoongi was gone, but you didn’t feel like a lost cause. They trusted you with metal now and you could take a shower without someone in the room. Your mind just kept going back to his number written on a crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket. 

           You had looked at that paper for hours, memorizing it in case you lost it. Now you stood, fingers curling and uncurling as you hesitated. The door was blue, a contrast to the white halls. The name card read Dr. Kim. So that was her name, huh? You raised your hand to knock. No. No. No. 

           The monster had never fought so hard. Doubt flooded your brain, filling every crevice and the matchstick was drowning. No. No. No. Then, as you were dragged into the depths of your mind, your feet turning around to go back to your room, a hand grabbed your arm and tugged you to the surface. Yoongi’s face stared back at you in the darkest corner of your mind. 

           He pulled you to his chest and looked you in the eye. Yes. He whispered. The candle. There it was. Warmth, a soft yellow light chasing the darkness away. The monster, shrunk away, for once smaller than the candle. You held the candle and found yourself walking back to that blue door. 

           Knock knock knock. The door opened to reveal Dr. Kim, the kindness in her eyes that had seemed so fake a few months ago, now comforted you. The flame burned brighter. 

           “Y/N?” Her disbelief was evident. “Would you like to...to talk?” 

           No. No. No. 

          “Yes, please.” 

          She opened the door and the flame turned into a wildfire, spreading to every corner in your darkened home. You walked in, watching the monster grow bigger, growling at you to leave. And for once...you didn’t run away. 

Have the strength to push away all the pain from yesterday, Cause there's nothing worth crying about Your heart is a candle and I won't let you blow it out

[jokertrap-ran]

[Drama CD]  Ikemen Vampire: Temptation in the Dark, Side: Leonardo da Vinci

Company: Cybird CV: Tsuda Kenjiro ( 津田 健次郎 )

*Commissioned by @shrimpalompa​, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are OPEN!!

Track 2:

Yes, yes. Good morning. Your fringe’s  sticking up, little one. Yeah, wait, don’t try to hide your face with the covers. No, don’t try to hide, no running; and stop trying to wiggle your way out either. Come on now, look back over here. Don’t worry, you’re cute no matter what happens, always. How strange. Your hair’s so mussed up, but yet you’re still adorable in my eyes. You haven’t casted some sort of strange spell on me, have you?

Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me with all your might. It’s only a joke, sorry. I’m only simply stating a fact when I say that you’re cute and...well, I suppose that’s also proof of how I’ve completely fallen for you.

I’m unfair, you say? That, I already know. I’m way more mature than you, not to mention older by a couple thousand years. 

Hm? What’s the matter?

Have you finally decided to get out of bed? Wait a minute. Stay here for a little while longer. For at least 3 minutes more? You smell something sweet? Hm, I suppose that’s the remnants of the cigarettes. Your hair smells equally delectable all the time as well. This might be weird coming from me, considering how we’re technically using the same shampoo and all...But I guess it’s easier to the scent of the woman I love more acutely than anything else? You’re the only one with such a sweet-smelling scent. Always.

Haa...I’ve got to let you go soon. It’s a brilliant thing to be watching you up and about, but I’ve still got to let go eventually. Hm? Oh. There’s a night banquet going on today, remember? Don’t fret, I remember it. Awfully so, in fact. There’s no way I’d ever forget about the day you’ve been looking forward to all so badly. I’ll come get you at night but we’ll both have to continuously give our best at our respective works till then. See you then. It’ll be farewell for the time being, little one. Do your best today as well. Heh, that’s it.

Track 3:

Little one? Come on in. Good work today. I’m here to escort you just as I promised.

No...You’re just so enthralling that I think I fell head over heels for you yet again. Can I get a closer look at you? Hmm, yup. You’re beautiful. I always think that you’re cute, but seeing you like this...I can’t think of anything else to describe you other than simply mesmerising. I’m stumped. I just went off and did something that would trouble you.

Heh. I see that you feel the same way as well, partner in crime. Look, you’ve turned all red. So you are troubled indeed. We’ll both be late if we proceed further though. Well, it’s better to postpone the enjoyment till later when I can take all the time I want. Let’s foray into the streets at night then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ༻ ♡ ༺ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Still, it’s rather lively considering the place it;s situated in. Haha! You’re really expressive, huh. Everything shows on your face; about how fun it is here that you just can’t help yourself. I’m glad you’re here. 

Oh, the song’s changing. Is it time for the dance now? Hm, may I have your hand then? Hey, hey...What are you snickering to yourself about? I’m well aware that this type of princely-attitude doesn’t fit me at all. And honestly, I’m no good with places that are as dazzling as this is either. And adding insult to injury is that I’m absolutely no good at dancing either. In fact, it’s one of the things that I’m absolutely useless at.

Really, do you have to be laughing so much at my expense? Through, what I think about any of this doesn’t matter in the end. I’m saying that I don’t care how lame I look doing all these, little one. If it makes you laugh tonight, I don’t mind it. I don’t mind doing anything. So, here. Take my hand?

Alright. Come on here then.

Heh. It’s better now compared to the first time I’ve ever danced with you, right? Hey. I actually really love the smile you have on your face when you’re having fun and enjoying yourself. All of your expressions are cute to me, but I think your smiling face’s the best out of of them all.

If it’s for your smile...I’m willing to do anything so long as it puts that smile on your face. From now on and forever. So laugh for my sake? Yeah, that’s a nice smile you have on. It really is. Now, how about we dance all night till you actually start to hate it? 

Track 4:

It’s really peaceful and calm out here. Hm? What’s wrong for your face to be so flushed? People are staring at us both? Are you bothered by it? Did we do something weird to garner their eyes on us? You...You don’t really think that we were creating such a disruption that they’d do that, do you? Hah, I knew it. I suppose I understand that feeling as well, weird part of you it might be, but I share the same sentiments as well. Listen here, little one. They aren’t staring at us because we did something odd. They’re all enthralled by your beauty, by your smile. Their eyes stray to you even if they didn’t have such intentions because you are all too dazzling upon the dance floor. I’m not lying and it isn’t a joke either. I’m just stating the facts and I suppose you’re the only one who isn't aware of it. Well, I can’t say I hate that air-headedness of yours. That just made the fact that you’re mine even clearer now. Idiot girl, don’t make me spell every word out for you and everyone out there. Even I, for as long as I have lived. Am unable to get rid of this nagging feeling called jealousy. What do you know of man? Besides, we only get worse whenever something happens to the one we love. In other words, let me steal you away.

Your ears have turned red. This one here too. No, it’s redder, actually. Haha, your reactions really do stir me up. Turn over here. I’d love to tell you that you can expect more to come but it’ll be bad if we continued anything out here. And I don’t wish to let others witness this cute face of yours. Allow me to continue once we get back to the manor, yes?

Track 5:

Now then...Hey, hey, what’s up with that face you’re pulling? You’re not aware of it? Then let me tell you exactly what kind of expression you’re showing. It’s one that tells me that you want to do things. Much, much more. Am I mistaken? Whoa- It’s kind of stifling when you hug me that tightly, you know… Heh. You’re so cute even when you’re like this. Sometimes I worry what I’m to do in the future if this is how cute you’re going to be all the time. But I suppose it’s not a problem at all so long as I keep holding onto you like this. Right?

Heh. Your neck’s gonna fall off if you keep nodding so vigorously. Besides, I can’t do this either. Looking at your pale white neck...I can’t help but to feel things that I shouldn’t really be feeling.

It makes me want to bite into that neck of yours. It makes me want to bite into it and steal everything from your very existence. However, I can’t do that. I won’t make you into a vampire like I am. You already know that without me telling you? You’re really the oddball, aren’t you? You’re probably the only one who’d stick around with someone as troublesome as me and remain smiling, happy to be by my side. Have I given up on you? No...I fell for you again. You’ve turned red again, how cute. Thanks to that, I think I don’t want to let go of you anymore. Actually, I never intended to do so to begin with. Hey, little one? How about we spend the night together today?

Track 6:

What? You’re awake? Hmm? Ahh, I’ve been awake. I lost my sleepiness while watching you sleep. Is the cigarette smoke reaching your side? That’s good then. What was I thinking about, you ask?

I was just reminiscing about the time when I first met you. My first impression of you was that you were adorable. But, I never thought that something like this, something like us right now would ever happen back then. I’m a timeless vampire and you’re just a human, remember? We’re two existences as different as heaven and earth and I honestly never thought that love between the two would even be possible. Because I knew that eventually your time would run out and that you’d never be able to live up to where I am. Fleeting. I thought that it was bad, that it was the worst thing one could do, for an immoral to be stealing the time of someone who had a limited time in this world. That’s precisely why I tried not to fall for you, but...Strange, isn’t it? You eventually still managed to sneak your way into my heart and I didn’t want to let go of you anymore. It’s the same even now. Little one, I can’t imagine a future without you any more. A life without you would only be boring, sad and lonely. So...please continue being a part of my life from now on. And beside me...I’d like for you to stay beside me while you still live.

Hey now, why are you crying? Heh. You’re so good at getting me to extinguish my cigarettes that even I’m appalled. There you go. Here, I’ll give you a hug, so calm down. You know, I actually love you much more than you’re aware of. What? It’s not unnecessary at all now, is it? Okay, alright, you’re really...just cry your heart out. It’s still a long time till the night breaks so I’ll just hold you till the time comes.

Track 7:

Both of us and this relationship we’re in. One between a Vampire, eternal, and a human. Living together side by side, this sadness and loneliness that I feel...It might not be the same if we were both humans, for our times would be the same. This love of ours would definitely not be one befitting of her. It wasn’t what she deserved...Or so I thought. And that’s why I tried to stay my hand; I tried to stay away. Your love wasn’t fated to be one that ended in tears. I wished that you’d have one, one that made you happy. Short, fleeting, just as you are. I remember telling you that once, but you insisted. You still insisted that it was a wall between us that you didn’t care about. And before I realised, we were both on the same path. One that we shared, walking in tandem. I was caught off-guard, but it seems like I’ve fallen head-first into this love that defies all logic. 

With our differences, there’s no saying that we’ll have a future together for all of eternity. I don’t even know if this love of ours will be forgiven. But I do love how pure it is. Something that I wish will continue and stay on. That’s why I swore to myself, I made a vow, somewhere in my heart. It was something that she didn’t know of. I swore that I’d love her and only her, for however fleeting her life was to be in this realm. If...Even if the time comes where she’d disappear and fade away in front of my eyes, I’ll grab onto the shadow she left behind. I’ll take this love, relish in it...and live out the rest of my eternity. Innocent, yet forbidden. This love of ours that defies even what the gods have decreed. I’m the only one who can protect this. However, I’ve only one wish. Gods are fickle things. They seem to have a penchant for recalling those pretty and pure back up under their wing. That’s something I’d rather not happen. This little one...I wish for her to let her live a little longer. I can always tell her this anytime, sometime in the future. Even if she cries, I’ll hold onto this love and think of it as my fate. I’ll accept this fate of mine.

I won’t be happy if she’s gone. This happiness cannot be attained one-sidedly. And while waiting for that fateful time to come, I’ll live alongside you. Minute by minute, lovingly.

[lisinfleur]

WYWTTS - Chapter 3: Before the Dawn

Author’s Notes | Ok... I have to say I was pretty sad with the lack of reaction I received in the last chapter of this work. However, more than reactions, my own sweetness towards this character and the amazing actor behind it, along with the tenderness that came from the requester of this work are what move me to push this forward. So, as much as David - who finished his work with Sigurd although all the hate his character received - and for the sake of my sweet Any and the others who wanted to see this work done, here am I with one more chapter of this series.

I really hope you guys enjoy it. If not... Well... I do. :) Words | 1694 ⁑ Warnings: Offensive words, some cursing.

"And you want to convince me a woman wasn't paid to make that whole embroidery for him?"

Ivar's voice, of course, was sounding full of mockery as Sigurd was straightening the beautifully embroidered cloak he had earned from Siggy. The woman had really dedicated some good time to make him a beautiful pattern, detailed and colored, he loved at first sight.

"Yes, Ivar," Sigurd answered, proudly standing with his new cloak, ready for the festivals that were starting at the town for the new cycle of seeding and harvests. "Someone decided to voluntarily spend time and dedication to make me something beautiful. I know it may be something completely unknown for you since, besides our mother's obligations, no one has ever done such a thing for your lame ass, but yes. Someone decided to do it for me. And maybe this same someone will like to spend some time at this festival doing another thing that you won't ever understand which is having a healthy and pleasant conversation that I intend to extend for as long as I can manage to be away from you tonight. So... Enjoy your bitterness, little brother. I have a sweet flower to meet and no time to lose with your envy."

Ivar's smile lost itself for a moment before gaining size once again in his face.

"Well, let's see the size of your flower's beard when you decide to bring your boyfriend around, little Sigurd."

"It's a girl, and she's pretty," Hvitserk entered the conversation like someone who catches a boat in the middle of the departure, knowing nothing about its destiny.

Sinking Ivar's plans to mock Sigurd that night and putting a bigger smile on the blonder brother's face.

"Good that you came to deal with little Ivar's solitude. I don't wanna be late if you don't mind. Good night, Hvitserk. Little bitter brother," Sigurd saluted, sneering, jumping out of Ivar's reach before the younger prince could hit him with the cup of mead he had just thrown.

Sigurd didn't even look back. His mind was flying over Siggy's smiles as his hands touched once again the beautiful embroidery she had done for his new cloak. She was such a skilled woman! Although talented, she was humble. And sweet. And gentle. And gorgeous like Sigurd's best dreams.

He could feel something whenever she would smile at him and this time, he was sure his life was finally giving him something good for all the years of loneliness.

Since Siggy had entered his life that day on the river, he was happier. Undoubtedly!

And his happiness wasn't passing unnoticed around.

"Little Sigurd seems to have found a green bird around..."

Sigurd stopped by one of the tents at the square when his brother Björn's voice sounded that giggling way.

"Not yet," he smiled. "But soon. And not green. But colored," his smile became bigger as his fingers ran the colored embroidery of his cloak one more time. "All the colors I've ever wanted to see at once, brother."

Björn laughed, patting Sigurd's shoulder.

"Oh, I know this sensation. Go ahead, brother. Just don't let her threads go around your neck or maybe she'll sew you a collar," he joked.

To what Sigurd smiled almost tenderly. His eyes catching the image of Siggy entering the square in a dress surely combining his cloak's pattern.

"You wanna know what, brother? I don't really mind if she sews me a collar after all. I think I would use it happily for one more of her smiles."

Björn's eyes followed his little brother's glare but there wasn't a smile on his lips at the end of that line. Instead, as Sigurd walked away without noticing, Björn's cup almost went straight to the ground as his eyes watched his little brother being received by a ghost of his own past.

The woman standing at the entrance of the festival, smiling shyly at his little brother... That face was something he could never forget.

"Þórunn?" he mumbled to himself.

But no... That woman was too young to be his sweet Þórunn. She would be older like him, not preserved in time like a perfect painting or marble sculpture of his memories.

That couldn't be his Þórunn. But maybe... What was that woman's name?

Leaving his cup at the tent's table, Björn turned around searching for his other brothers, catching Ubbe by his braid as soon as he was able to see the younger one walking around.

"I told you already a thousand times, stop this shit of pulling me by my-" Ubbe started complaining but Björn's voice cut him before he could finish that sentence.

"What's the name of Sigurd's new girlfriend? Did he tell you what's the woman's name?"

Ubbe frowned. What could be wrong about his little brother's happiness to make Björn so serious about that woman?

"Siggy, I think. Not sure. There are a lot of women with this name around the town, Björn. What is it with the girl?" Ubbe asked, worried.

"Siggy what?" Björn insisted. "What's her origin? Where did she come from?"

His nervousness starting to get Ubbe unsettled.

"I don't know, brother. She's a farmer girl. I don't know what's her father's name. Sigurd seems to have saved her life at the river and they proceeded to meet each other here and there... It seems something new. What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Björn finished the conversation with a knot in his throat, leaving Ubbe even more confused. "I'm just overthinking."

He had to be, right?

His mind making the calculations. His Siggy would be around Sigurd's age at this point. And as long as he knew, Aslaug had given her to a farmer's family, wasn't it? Or was it the woman who sewed her dresses? He couldn't properly remember or be sure... There were so many years now!

What if that was his Siggy?

What if that wasn't the right girl?

By the doubt, he thought it was better to keep an eye open at the girl and his little brother.

If he wasn't wrong, then that would be his daughter.

He couldn't let that happen without taking the proof.

"It seems we combine, my lady."

Sigurd's voice sounded like the smile he had on his face for her when she arrived at the festival.

He was dressing proudly the cloak she'd made for him and it filled Siggy's heart with happiness at the same proportion it made her cheeks blush in shyness: her dress was made of the same tissue which made it look as if she had combined to go dressed like him.

Like a pair.

"You look gorgeous, prince Sigurd," she tried to keep herself polite, but Sigurd extended his hand for her and smiled.

"Tonight, we forget I'm a prince. Please, call me by my name only. Let us enjoy this night together."

No titles attached.

She knew they were becoming closer and closer. Although she knew her origins and their blood relation, her heart was full of joy with his tender approaching and she accepted his hand, entering the festival with eyes over her simple figure standing beside the proud prince walking by her side.

Sigurd was shining that night. He couldn't feel happier. And yet, he kept his sweetness, laughing with her, making her laugh, giving her the sweetest night Siggy could ever remember have lived in her whole life. They'd danced together, drunk, and ate together, and by the end of the night, he placed a crown of colored flowers over her head, gently pushing aside some strands of her hair from her face.

The sun was about to dawn when Sigurd invited her out of the festival, to the beach near the town where they could see the dawn together.

He helped her to climb up some stones and sat beside her as the sun was starting to lift itself on the horizon.

"It was a happy night," she broke the silence, noticing Sigurd wasn't looking at the dawn.

But at her face.

"Won't you watch the dawn?" she asked, shyly.

"I am watching it," he answered, causing her cheeks to blush even more. "Through your eyes," he completed, caressing her face gently.

Making Siggy smile in a way no other had ever made before.

His thumb caressed her cheek gently and she slowly leaned into his caress, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I could kiss you right now," he mumbled.

Almost asking her permission to do what he wanted so bad.

"I could let you kiss me right now," she answered, good-humored, getting a smile from the bardic prince as his caresses continued warming her face.

"But then I would have to tell you how I feel... And ask you to be my girlfriend," he continued that game.

Receiving a tender glare from Siggy's eyes.

"Oh, then I'll have to say yes," she answered, causing Sigurd's smile to become slightly less playful.

"Then... I would have to believe I'm dreaming. And there is only one way to know if I'm dreaming or not."

She turned herself to him completely, looking into his eyes. Her heart was decided when Siggy smiled at him.

She was decided to ignore any barriers.

She wasn't his niece. Björn was never her father. She was Siggy Dagsðóttir!

And she was in love with Prince Sigurd...

"If you're dreaming... Then... Wake up, my prince," she mumbled.

Leaning forward to feel his hands touching and cupping her face right before Siggy's lips encountered Sigurd's in a long and tender kiss that filled the prince's heart with joy.

They spent a long time knowing each other's flavors before the need for air forced the kiss to be broken.

And Sigurd giggled after he opened his eyes.

"Whether I didn't wake up... Or I'm not dreaming. I still don't know the difference... I guess I'll have to kiss you again," he joked.

Getting a laugh from Siggy who nestled into his arms.

"You're my boyfriend now, right?" she said, smiling at him. "I guess you can kiss me as much as you want."

They laughed together and Siggy smiled at the sun who was now filling the sky. Brighter times were coming, she could feel.

Brighter times that she wanted to live fully.

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[hollyxqx]

playing with fire  //  yoongi  //  04

↪ PARING: Min Yoongi x Reader ↪ GENRE: angst » smut » idol!au » enemies to lovers ↪ SUMMARY: Yoongi hates you. Or at least he thinks he does. (AKA the one where you work for BigHit and Yoongi is bad at feelings). ↪ WORD COUNT: 6.7k ↪ WARNINGS: heavy angst | sex | secret relationships | jealousy | mild possessive behaviour

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

Over the next few months Yoongi and you began to text back and forth. He couldn't help but feel a little thrill every time his phone pinged and your name popped up on the notification. You were just as busy - if not busier - than he was, so often the replies could be sporadic and at odd times in the day but he appreciated each one.

Yoongi had found out from Namjoon that your birthday was approaching and he had an idea. He was actually going to show you a genuine sign of affection. It made him feel anxious and weird but with Namjoon's encouragement he was going to commit and do it.

"Do you know where she's staying?" Namjoon asked discreetly as the two boys made themselves comfortable in their plane seats. They were flying to America and had 14 hours to kill.

"Yeah." Yoongi nodded, unravelling his headphone wire. Namjoon was fishing through his backpack, no doubt looking for a book. "She's in the States too. Chicago."

"It makes it sound like she's close but America is massive."

"I know." He muttered. "I don't even remember when she was last in Korea."

"So what's your plan for the birthday then?" Namjoon asked, pulling out not one but three books. Yoongi fought the urge to roll his eyes at the overkill. Classic Joon.

"Tell me if this is lame, and don't lie," Yoongi began, feeling a little shy at the prospect of what he was about to say. "I'm going to send flowers and champagne to her hotel room. I also got her a gift."

"What's the gift?" Namjoon asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's a limited edition signed copy of an album she loves. It's vinyl that's out of print." He said quickly, hoping it would make his confession seem less pathetic is he said them faster. "We also saw them live...together."

"Awwww, hyung!" Namjoon exclaimed, punching Yoongi affectionately in the arm. "Who knew you could be so cute?!"

"Shut up." Yoongi grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Cutie. Cutie pie Yoongi."

"I won't hesitate to murder you on this plane Joonie." Yoongi warned. Namjoon just grinned wider. He slipped an arm around Yoongi's shoulder and squeezed, practically squealing with glee.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day of Min Yoongi being an adorable sweetheart, all for a girl." Namjoon said as he dodged Yoongi's incoming smack to chest. "It's nice hyung. I think she'll really like it."

"I hope so."

They settled in for the international flight, Yoongi with his music on and Namjoon with his face buried in a book. Somewhere a few rows behind them he could already hear Taehyung snoring and Jimin complaining. It was going to be a long journey.

***

Yoongi watched the rookie boy group you managed on YouTube on the ride to the hotel, ignoring the rest of his bandmates. They were bundled into a minivan rather quickly after landing to avoid the crowds at the airport. He'd just spent 14 hours with his group, he could do with some quiet time alone. Taehyung had alcohol on the plane and was too giddy for his liking, talking too fast and giggling.

The group were called TXT. They looked young, but Yoongi was never great at guessing someone's age. He was watching a backstage vlog that one of the boys filmed. He would never admit it but he was looking for you in the background. It didn't take long for him to spot you, laughing and joking with the main rapper. An ugly feeling roared in him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

You wore the same leather jacket he's seen you in a thousand times, the one adorned with cute metal pins. Your hair was longer and lighter than he remembered. You looked like you. The same, but slightly different.

He watched the video in its entirety, keeping a careful eye out for you in the background, occasionally catching a glimpse. It made him feel slightly voyeuristic, but it was the only way he could see you. Your instagram that he sometimes lurked had been made private (much to his dismay) and he wanted to know what your were up to.

"What's that?" Jin asked, nudging Yoongi with his elbow, gesturing to the phone screen.

"Nothing," Yoongi replied quickly, locking the screen so it went black. Jin eyed him suspiciously.

"That looked like TXT."

"How do you know that?!" Yoongi asked, incredulously.

"I recognised Soobin. I've spoken to him a couple times before they debuted." Jin explained.

"Oh."

"Nice kid. Didn't think he was your type though." Jin teased, a hint of amusement in his voice since Yoongi was obviously straight. "Unless...you're keeping tabs on y/n."

He felt his face flush with embarrassment getting caught in the act of snooping. It was intended to be a private thing he'd never admit to. "I was just checking out our competition hyung. These kids are the next generation." It wasn't the most convincing lie he's ever told but it was all he could come up with on the spot. Jin bit back a smirk.

"If you say so."

***

The sound of a ringing cellphone stirred Yoongi out of the sleep he'd accidentally fallen in to. After being in America for several days the jet lag was taking its toll and what was supposed to be a short rest on the sofa backstage turned in to a full on nap. Bleary eyed and still half asleep he fished through his pocket to find the device. When your name popped up on the screen he was instantly wide awake.

"Hello?" He answered, somewhat cautiously.

"Min Yoongi you are terrible."

Perhaps it was the fact that he'd just woken up but he was instantly confused. "Huh? What?"

"My gift!" You exclaimed and it suddenly clicked in his mind that yesterday was your birthday and you received the present he sent. For a horrible moment his heart sank, thinking you didn't like it. "I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?" He played dumb.

"Got me one of the most thoughtful birthday presents ever." He swore you were smiling as you spoke. "I was so shocked when the delivery guy knocked on my hotel door."

"I wanted to surprise you." He laughed a little. "It's not a surprise if you know it's happening."

"Well, you certainly did. I'm still in shock." You joked. "I just called to say thank you. It's perfect."

"You're welcome."

"I'm saving the champagne though."

"Why?" He asked. He had wanted you to enjoy it.

"For when we see each other next. We can share it." You explained. Yoongi bit back the huge smile that was tugging at his lips. "You know, we will be at the LA KCON at the same time right?"

He didn't actually know that. Yoongi wasn't the most organised person in the world, relying on the team around him to tell him where to be and when. He was aware KCON was approaching but that was it.

"This is news to me." He said and you laughed, knowing from experience just how he was with his schedule. "We probably won't have time to see each other though."

"Let's make time then." You sounded so confident and assured it took him aback. A part of him didn't expect you to want to see him, that you were comfortable with being just acquaintances and nothing more. It made him happy that you were insistent.

"There's the eager y/n I know." At the mention of your name Namjoon's head whipped round and his eyes locked with Yoongi's, a keen look on his face. No doubt Yoongi would get a million questions once the phone call ended. He looked away, trying to ignore the eyes on him.

"So wanting to see my friend is eager?" You played along. Although he couldn't deny the friend comment stung a bit. He fought the urge to make a dirty innuendo knowing Namjoon was within earshot.

"It is when you have more important things to do."

"Shut up. I know you want to see me too."

"I'm just coming for the champagne." He teased. He imagined the eye roll you were no doubt giving him right now. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Well," You sighed. "I worked twelve hours and had one of my boys injure himself then spent three hours in an emergency room."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

"It was. Your gift made my day worth it though."

Yoongi felt his chest swell with pride. That was exactly the reaction he had hoped for and he was glad he took the risk in the first place. The two of you chatted for a little longer before you had to go, duty calling you. When you hung up the phone he caught himself smiling a little too much and it was only when Namjoon laughed and threw a packet of snacks at him did he snap out of his daze.

"You look lovesick." Namjoon grinned, ducking when Yoongi threw the snacks back. "It's soooooo cute!"

"I'm not!"

Jimin walked over and flopped down on the sofa next to him, leaning his head on the older male's shoulder. "Were you talking to y/n?" He asked, yawning sleepily. Yoongi wasn't the only one suffering with the time difference.

"Uh, yeah." He replied, shifting so he was comfortable as well.

"Yoongi hyung is in love." Namjoon announced making Jimin snicker.

"I know, I saw him smiling from over there." Jimin replied. "It's the most I've ever seen you smile, hyung."

"So now I can't smile without everyone getting on my case?" Yoongi muttered with a frown but his bandmates just laughed. They continued to tease him throughout the day but he took it on the chin. It didn't matter, because he'd get to see you soon and that in itself was worth the mocking. Just.

***

Two weeks passed in a flash, and before he knew it Yoongi was checking into an L.A hotel room the night before KCON. Fortunately he was sharing with Namjoon which guaranteed a good nights rest. Together they dumped their stuff in the room and settled in for the night.

"Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon yawned, stretching on the opposite twin bed. "Shall we order room service?" He fumbled with the hotel menu.

Yoongi mumbled something in agreement as he checked his phone for the umpteenth time, to see if you had texted. You hadn't. He tossed his phone to the side, mentally cursing himself for being so affected by the lack of attention.

"Oh, Jin-hyung is joining us." Namjoon said, momentarily distracting Yoongi from his thoughts. "He met up with the TXT guys and he's on his way back, said he'd stop by."

Yoongi felt his stomach flip. "TXT?"

"Yeah they're staying at this hotel also." That meant you were staying at this hotel too. Combined with the fact that you hadn't got in contact only made him feel worse. His insides churned.

Jin joined them some time later after their food had arrived. He sat on Namjoon's bed as Yoongi and Namjoon tucked in to their food, face buried in his phone. "Those rookie kids are a mess." He told no one in particular. "They're so nervous for their interview tomorrow."

"Really?" Namjoon laughed, sipping some water. "Is it because they don't speak english?"

"Yeah." Jin replied. "I told them they'd be fine, Yoongi sucks at English and he manages."

"Your English is terrible too." Yoongi protested with a glare, both Jin and Namjoon laughed.

"I ran into y/n, too." Jin said, startling Yoongi a little. "She says hello."

That's it? That's the entire message? Yoongi frowned. He had expected something a little more, at least. Pushing the thought from his mind he attempted to distract himself with his meal. Once he was finished and still thoroughly focused on the sting of mild rejection he excused himself from Jin and Namjoon with the excuse of needing some fresh air. He decided a late night walk might clear his head.

Sejin would not be best pleased that Yoongi was walking around late at night, unaccompanied. What the manager didn't know couldn't hurt him, Yoongi thought as he made his way down to the swimming pool area. It was void of any other hotel guests given the lateness of the hour. It was peaceful.

The pool had lights underneath the water, giving it a relaxing glow. Combined with a cool breeze in the warm night air it was enjoyable. Yoongi sat on the edge of one of the sun loungers, leaning on his knees. It felt almost surreal to be literally in the same building as you but unable to see you.

He was unsure how much time had passed as he sat there, overthinking. "Namjoon told me you went for a walk, I figured you'd be here."

Yoongi looked up to see you standing there, a sweet smile on your face. It had been so long since he'd seen you in the flesh for a moment he thought he was dreaming. "How'd you know?" He smirked.

"I know you." You said simply. "You wouldn't go too far because you wouldn't want to piss off Sejin, you like quiet places so the hotel is a no and you like looking at the sky. So, hence the pool."

"Am I that predictable?"

"I wish you were." You teased. "Still, it's nice to see you."

"You too." He replied quietly. "Sit with me."

You did as he asked, mimicking his position on the sun lounger opposite. He swivelled round so he was facing you rather than the pool. Your knees brushed up against each other as he moved. "How are you? It's been a while..."

"Same old Yoongi, you know me." He couldn't help but study your entire face as he talked, like it was the first time seeing you again. "What about you, Miss Manager?"

"I'm so busy I think I've aged 5 years in the last 5 months." You sighed. "Right now is the first moment of the day I've had to myself." The thought that you came looking for him the second you could made up for the lack of communication from you earlier.

"Thanks for stalking me when you could, I guess." He taunted. You rolled your eyes but with a smile on your face, nudging him playfully with your knee. He noticed you shivered slightly. You were only in a shirt. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine." You insisted. As if on cue you shivered again. Yoongi didn't need to think twice, he was slipping out of his oversized bomber jacket and leaning across the gap between you, slipping it around your shoulders. "No, Yoongi. Now you'll be cold." You tried to shrug the jacket off but he held it shut at the front of your chest.

"Don't worry about me." He held your gaze for a moment, enjoying just being in close proximity to you. He could smell your perfume this close. It was familiar, images of you underneath him in various locations flashed through his mind.  

"Thank you." You almost whispered. Yoongi didn't let go of the jacket.

"Y/N?" He wasn't sure what he was asking. You looked from his eyes to his lips and then back again. He knew you were thinking exactly what he was. It was as if you were both magnets, being pulled in towards each other when your lips met. Delicate at first, tentative, almost nervous. Like a first kiss. His hand slipped from your front to slide up the side of your neck, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Unwillingly he pulled away, some rational part of his brain kicking into gear telling him how reckless it was to kiss you in a public space, even if it was deserted. It was always possible someone might be watching.

"Wow," You said breathlessly and he smirked. "It's been...a while since we've done that."

The two of you shared a small, slightly embarrassed laugh.

"I couldn't help it. Sorry."

"I liked it."

"I like you." Yoongi said without thinking, caught up in the moment. Your cheeks tinged pink at his declaration.

"Still?" You asked, avoiding his gaze shyly. "I thought you would have found some other staff member to fool around with by now."

"Nah, Sejin's not my type." He joked. "You are."

"I like it when you're like this Yoongi."

"Like what?"

"Nice." You squeezed his knee affectionately. He placed his hand on top of yours.

"Are you sharing a room tonight?" He asked. "I believe I was promised some champagne."

You grinned. "No, I'm alone tonight. Shall we go up?" He nodded and followed you inside.

***

Your hotel room was smaller than Yoongi's, given that it only had one double bed instead of two singles. Not that he cared. The second the door clicked shut he caged you in against the wood, palms pressed either side of your face. He wasn't going to wait a second longer. He couldn't wait a second longer.

His lips attached themselves to yours greedily, pressing his body into you as he kisses you. Yoongi can't help it, months of pent up want and frustration clouding his mind. You seemed just as desperate also, hands already sliding up the sides of his shirt to touch the bare skin underneath.

"You have no - " He kissed the side of your mouth. " - idea - " His lips moved to your jaw. "- how fucking badly - " Mouth on your neck he sucked the skin between his teeth, nipping at the flesh ever so slightly. "- I've wanted this."

You moaned in response, squeezing his sides. "Me too."

Briefly, he pulled away stripping his jacket and your t-shirt off of you practically growling at the sight of your tits. His memory of them was good but nothing compared to the real thing. He kissed them as he unclasped your bra, hands instinctively cupping them once they were free.

He dropped to his knees, pulling down your leggings and panties, giving you a moment to step out of them leaving you completely bare. Yoongi stayed in this position but hooked one of your thighs up and over his shoulder before diving straight to your leaking core and slipping his tongue between the folds. He felt you almost lose your balance, overcome with the sensation.

"Your pussy is perfect." He said, pushing a finger into you. "I've been fucking dreaming about it."

Your laugh turned into a long moan when he resumed licking your clit, pumping his finger in time with his mouth. Hands tangled in his hair, encouraging him as your hips rocked against his face. After he added a second finger it didn't take long for you to cum hard against his tongue. Yoongi groaned feeling you clench around him. He looked up at you, smirking.

"Jesus christ, Yoongi." You sighed, chest and cheeks both flushed from your orgasm.

"Good?"

"Better than good. Perfect. Amazing." You laughed making him chuckle. He removed his fingers from you and stood, kissing you sweetly on the lips. "Can you get naked now?" You whined. He nodded but didn't move right away, embedding the memory of you naked and pressed up against the door into his brain.

He shed his jeans and t-shirt quickly and you couldn't resist palming his cock over his boxers. Yoongi placed his hand over yours, kissing you deeply as you worked him. His cock was rock hard and any bit of relief felt amazing. "Where do you want it?" He hummed against your lips.

"Anywhere. Just want you."

He walked you backwards to the bed, pushing you on to the soft mattress and ridding himself of his last remaining piece of clothing. His knee went between your thighs spreading them open as he settled between them. Suddenly he remembered that it had been months since he'd last slept with you. It's possible you had had a partner or worse, partners since him.

"Do I need a condom?" He asked in a low voice. You bit your lip and shook your head no.

"Not if you don't want to. You're the only one I've been with in ages."

A wild possessive part of him roared to life, pleased that no one else had got to have you like this. His cock teased at your entrance and you moaned loudly when he dipped the tip of it inside you teasingly. "You want me huh?" He smirked. "Want me to fuck you like old times?"

"Don't care. I need you Yoongi." You whined with a buck of your hips, trying to encourage him as you clung to his shoulders desperately.

He pushed his entire length in agonisingly slowly causing you to practically whimper as you adjusted to his size. Stilling for a moment buried to the hilt he paused, savouring the moment as you made eye contact. "You're so beautiful y/n." He said quietly. Before you could reply he rocked his hips, delighted at the way your eyes closed in pleasure.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he glided in and out of you, going much slower than usual. Yoongi didn't want the moment to end. His orgasm was already bubbling under the surface and he was fighting not to come too early. "How does it feel baby?" He hadn't meant to use the pet name but it just slipped out. In this moment it felt like you were his.

"So good, Yoongi." You moaned. "I want more. Harder, fuck me harder."

Yoongi gave in immediately moving just as you had begged him to. He found the spot in you that made your eyes roll and he drove into it relentlessly, determined to make you fall apart again. "Feels so good. Pussy so tight and wet for me." He grunted.

"For you." You repeated with a gasp. "I'm always so wet for you Yoongi."

"Fuck yeah you are." His pace quickened and when he felt you lock your legs around his waist he knew you were about to come. Angling his hips so that his body was pressed against your clit you cried out his name as you orgasmed. "I'm cumming too, fuck." He groaned, loudly into your neck as he spilled cum into you, eventually slowing his motions to a stop.

Once both of you had regained your breath he rolled off of you, laying on the bed beside you. He didn't know what possessed him but he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, wanting some kind of closeness still.

To his surprise you nuzzled in to him, placing a small kiss on his jaw. "That was amazing. I can barely think straight."

"I missed that." He mused. You gave him another kiss before rolling of the bed and heading to the bathroom to clean up. Yoongi lay on the bed, body and mind not entirely back to normal yet. He was still in the same position when you returned a few minutes later. "Come here." He said lowly, opening his arms to you.

You crawled into them, placing a head on his chest. Yoongi pulled the comforter over your naked bodies. "Don't you have to go?" You asked.

"Yeah. At some point. Not yet though." He replied, pulling you close. This was unfamiliar to him, you'd never really cuddled together after sex before. This time it was different and he knew it. Things had changed. He'd allowed himself to be more open to you and in return you'd let him in again.

"You're so much nicer to be around when you're not pretending to hate me." You teased, a gleeful tint in your eye. You went to poke his chest but he grabbed your hand before you got the chance to.

"It doesn't give you licence to be the mean one."

You just smiled at him and went quiet for a few moments. "Is everything you said before still true? About liking me?"

Yoongi gulped, suddenly feeling very nervous and vulnerable again. "Yes."

"You know I like you too, right?"

"In that conversation you literally said you hated me." He laughed.

"I was angry at you!"

"Still."

"Over the past few months you've just been different. I like this side of you. You're sweet. You just have this icy exterior sometimes and I don't know why." You said softly. Yoongi was half embarrassed, half secretly pleased at your compliment. "The first time I met you I thought you were so intimidating." You chuckled.

"Seriously?" He scoffed. "Why?"

"You didn't smile once the entire meeting. And you're hot."

Yoongi recalled that day in his mind, being dragged to lunch, annoyed with himself at how attractive he found you. "I remember being annoyed at how pretty you are." He smiled.

"Annoyed?! Why?"

"Because I wanted you and I couldn't deal with it." He laughed at himself. "Idiot, huh?"

"Yeah, kinda." You joined in his laughter. "It makes sense now."

"What does?"

"Your weird hot and cold behaviour. You didn't want to like me. Technically you're not allowed to like me. I get it now. You were just conflicted."

"So you're not mad anymore?" He smirked.

"No." You smiled.

"When can I see you again?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"Maybe we can find some time tomorrow?" You offered. Yoongi nodded.

"Tomorrow."

*** Yoongi regretfully tiptoed out of your room some time after you'd fallen asleep, holding back a silent smile at the untouched bottle of champagne sitting in the mini fridge. You'd both known it was only an excuse to be together anyway. He gave your sleeping form one last glance on the way out, a wave of affection surging through his chest.

Namjoon stirred when Yoongi re-entered their shared suite. The room was in darkness and the younger male sleepily flicked his bedside light on. "Whoosere?" He mumbled, half sitting up in bed. Yoongi tried not to laugh at the irony of asking that question with your eyes closed.

"It's me, Namjoon." Yoongi whispered, quietly crossing over to him.

"What time is it?"

"Late. Go back to sleep." He leaned over Namjoon to flick his light back off but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Were you with y/n?" Namjoon asked, voice still husky with sleep. He yawned and Yoongi nodded, opting to sit on the side of his friends bed. "How was it?" Namjoon smirked.

"Fine." Yoongi tried to bite back yet another smile.

"Fine?" Namjoon smirked harder.

"I'm back in the good books, if that's what you mean."

"And it's all thanks to Kim Namjoon: part time idol, part time therapist." Namjoon teased with a small laugh. It was no secret to Yoongi how much help and advice his younger (but wise beyond his years) bandmate had offered him. Not that he was about to give him all the credit.

"Yeah, yeah." He said, pretending to roll his eyes. "You're a genius."

"Why does it feel like you're being sarcastic?" Namjoon joked.  He sat up straighter in bed, feeling a little more awake. "What happens with you and her now? Are you dating?"

"I don't know." Yoongi answered truthfully. "It's not like either of us have much time for it. After tomorrow I don't know when I will even see her again." He sighed.

"You could always do the long distance thing." Namjoon offered, ever the optimist. Yoongi knew that with his lifestyle and career that is almost always the only option he has when it comes to dating. The risks of getting caught get substantially higher however. At least one night stands and flings are easier to keep from the public. Although he can't remember the last time he had one of those before you.

"Yeah, maybe." He said quietly.

"Hyung, you don't see it but you're totally different when you talk to her. All of us have noticed it. She makes you happy. Someone like that might be worth struggling for."

Yoongi sat silently, letting the weight of Namjoon's words sink in. He certainly had a point. "Yeah." Is all he can manage to get out, suddenly feeling a little emotional.

Namjoon finally looked at the alarm clock and swore loudly as he registered the time. "We have to be up in two hours, sorry Yoongi but therapy hours are over."

Yoongi laughed a little before wishing him goodnight and climbing into his own bed, trying not to overthink things as usual.

*** He knew he was being ridiculous. Logically, he understood why he was feeling that way. But it didn't help quell the bitter, ugly emotion rising like bile in his throat at the sight of you being affectionate with a man that wasn't him. Yoongi was jealous.

The unidentified male was a member of staff and foreign, like you. Yoongi guessed he was a sound engineer by the headphones and clipboard he had. You were laughing together, his arm loosely slung around your waist. It made Yoongi feel insecure - another ugly emotion he hated admitting to - maybe you liked this man more than him. Surely it would be easier for you to be with someone who spoke your native tongue.

Surely you'd want to be with someone who can openly put his arm around you like that.

He turned away and frowned, unwilling to watch anymore. His chest felt hot and tight. Jimin was talking as they waited in the backstage corridor and he tried desperately to focus on him but his brain was screaming at him to peek back at you again. He caved.

The guy held you in an embrace now that looked a little too intimate for Yoongi's liking. Before he could stop himself he was walking, headed in your direction, ignoring Jimin call his name.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but can I please talk to y/n?" He found himself asking you and the stranger. You looked completely startled.

"Uh, s-sure Yoongi." You said cautiously. "Andy, excuse me for a minute. I'll come find you later?" You told your friend. Even that sentence annoyed Yoongi. 'Andy' just smiled and nodded, stepping away to give you and Yoongi some privacy.

"Follow me." Yoongi told you, and although you still looked incredibly confused you did as he asked. He walked briskly, taking a turn down the hallway he remembered BangTan's dressing room was down. He stopped at the door opposite, looked left and right to ensure the hallway was empty and roughly dragged you inside.

"Yoongi what's going on?" You exclaimed. "This is a bathroom." You pointed out as you took in your surroundings. Yoongi shut and locked the door behind him. "Why - "

Yoongi couldn't help himself, before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you and roughly pushed you up against the door, his lips going straight to yours. Instinctively you kissed him back, so familiar with having your lips on his. His hands held your wrists up against the cool metal of the door.

"Who was he?" He asked gruffly, pressing his entire body in to yours, chest to chest, dark eyes boring into you.

"Who?"

"Andy." He frowned. "I thought you hadn't been with anyone but me."

"He's my friend." You say quietly. "What's the issue?"

"He didn't look like a friend." Yoongi scoffed. His head dipped down to capture your lips again in a heated kiss. He let go of the vice grip on your hands and gripped your hips, pulling you into him. "You let all your friends touch you like that?" He murmured as he pulled away, opting to kiss his way to your neck.

"Like what Yoongi?" You replied breathlessly. "I didn't do anything."

"He was all over you." Yoongi said into your neck. He started to slowly suck on the tender flesh there, taking it gently between his teeth. He felt your breathing begin to labour as he popped open the button on your jeans.

"You can't leave a mark." You told him, almost in a moan. He just hummed in acknowledgement, already suspecting that it's too late for warnings considering the pace he was going.

"Do you want him to touch you here too?" He asked huskily as his hand slipped in front of your underwear, cupping your entire core. "Is he next, after me?" Yoongi asked, pulling away to look at you for an answer.

"It's not like t-that." You stuttered when he started to rub you over your panties. "Don't be jealous."

"Hmm," He said, pushing your underwear to the side so he was able to touch your bare skin, fingers going to your clit instantly. You hissed at the contact. "How can I not be huh?"

You were silent as Yoongi started to rotate his fingers, keeping a languid pace. His head fell to your neck and he resumed his work on red mark that was starting to form, deliberately ignoring your earlier warning. He was going to mark you. If he couldn't have you publicly this was the next best thing.

"Yoongi," You whined, trying to wiggle away from him but he only held you tighter.

"This is so Andy can see he can't touch you like that." He growled, fingers beginning to go ever so slightly faster. Once he was happy that he'd sucked a dark enough bruise into you he pulled back, returning to your lips. "I want you." He breathed. "You have no idea how badly I want you. The way you look is so unfair."

You were too turned on to be mad at him. "I have an idea of how much." You smirked, rolling your hips into his very prominent erection.

"Do you have time to do this here?" He asked lowly.

"No," You murmured, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure - his hand hadn't stopped its ministrations. "But I want it. I want you too."

In one quick motion Yoongi withdrew his hand and flipped you around so that your chest was flush with the door. Your jeans were soon pushed down to your knees before he nudged apart your feet with one swift push of his thigh. "Put your hands on the door and don't move them."

He was quick to pull his cock out and push in to you. There was no time for teasing and foreplay, Yoongi was sure it wouldn't be long before people started looking for both of you. He set a brutal pace and you were gasping beneath him, hands balling into fists against the door.

"No one fucks you like this, do they?" He panted, squeezing your hips for emphasis.

"Fuck - fuck, no." You choked out. "They don't - ugh - it's just you."

"Good girl." He's close now, hips relentlessly smacking against your ass. "I want you to cum, show me you're not lying. Show me I don't have a reason to be jealous again."

"Yoongi." You moaned loudly. He hoped there was no one on the other side of the door because you definitely would have been heard. "You don't have a reason to be jealous."

"Give it to me." He groaned. "Fucking give it to me, cum for me."

He drove in to you with such a force you stumbled a little, catching yourself on the door. You didn't have time to tell him you were cumming but he could feel it, pussy clenching tightly around him. Yoongi barely let you ride out your orgasm before he was cumming himself, as deep inside you as ever.

His head fell against your back as you both panted, spent. "Didn't take you to be the jealous type." You breathed with a laugh. He carefully pulled out of and went to grab some nearby tissue.

"I didn't like people touching you like that." He grumbled, unwilling to meet your eye as he handed you something to wipe down with. He felt stupid for letting his emotions get the better of him.

"You've got nothing to worry about." You said as you cleaned yourself. "There's no one else. I'm not sleeping with anyone else, that wasn't a lie."

"That might change though." Yoongi said, more so to himself as if he just realised it for the first time.

"If it does, you'll be the first to know." You pulled your jeans upwards as you walked to the mirror to fix your hair. "Jesus christ, my neck Yoongi!" You exclaimed, straining to see the darkening red mark. He peered at it behind you. That would definitely bruise, he thought hiding his grin.

"You can hide it with your hair." He shrugged.

As soon as the two of you were back to being presentable, Yoongi peeked out the door first to ensure a discreet getaway for you both. The coast appeared clear and he slipped out, you close behind. Before you went your separate ways you grabbed his hand. "Steal some of my time later?" You ask.

"Of course." He said and you smiled. As he started to walk away you shouted something that made him feel half embarrassed, half relieved.

"By the way, that guy I was with? He's gay!"

***

After the performance there were several press junkets the BangTan had to attend. Yoongi always found them marginally draining, especially in foreign countries. His English wasn't fantastic (although it had improved vastly since debut days) and it took a lot of mental strength to remain focused. Since they were the main act of KCON they had the most interviews. He was glad when they were over.

It was evening time when they arrived back at the hotel. He'd made plans with Namjoon and Jungkook to do some writing with a few ideas Jungkook had. Yoongi felt like a proud older brother whenever Jungkook took an interest in this side of making music. They holed up in him and Namjoon's room to work.

Yoongi was trying his best to text you discretely, keeping his phone turned away from his bandmates as best he could. He was making an attempt to meet you later, given that the next day would be the last of yours in LA. However it didn't work, Jungkook caught him rather easily.

"Yoongi hyung we're supposed to be working." Jungkook reprimanded from behind his macbook as he sat cross legged on the bed.

"Two guesses as to who he's texting." Namjoon smirked, exchanging knowing looks with Jungkook.

"Shut up." Mumbled Yoongi. "I can do two things at once."

"Like waiting to perform and fucking a bathroom?" Namjoon snickered, already laughing at Yoongi's wide eyed stare. "You idiot."

"What?!" Jungkook exclaimed, a shocked expression appearing on his face.

"I sincerely regret sharing that with you Namjoon, you dick." Yoongi swore at him.

"You are crazy, hyung." Jungkook replied with a shake of his head. "What if you'd got caught?!"

Yoongi just shrugged, trying to act like he didn't care. Obviously he would be mortified if he'd got caught but the truth was he didn't. "It was worth it. You'll know if you ever lose your virginity one day Kook." He grinned.

"I'm not a virgin!" Jungkook whined, making both the older boys laugh. He wasn't and hadn't been for a while but they still liked to tease him as he was the youngest. "I hate you guys."

"I won't judge you, it's okay." Yoongi teased.

"You should be careful though hyung, this girl is making you reckless." Namjoon warned, his tone a lot more serious now. "All jokes aside you shouldn’t pull a stunt like that again."

"God, ok. I won't. I won't even have the opportunity. She's leaving tomorrow."

"I know you like her, but don't let her make you stupid. Stop thinking with your dick."

"I think it's too late for that." Jungkook mumbled under his breath.

"Watch it, kid." Yoongi grumbled. He felt foolish knowing he let his bandmates, his leader down like that. Namjoon was right he shouldn't be so reckless. "Look, it won't happen again."

"You were lucky this time, Yoongi hyung. You might not be next time."

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling anxiety constrict on his insides. He needed to be smarter about this before he risked his career any further.

chapter 03 ↩           ↪  chapter 05  

masterlist

[icanbehardcore]

Top 10 WORST Powerpuff Girls Episodes

For a long time, I have been wanting to make a project resembling a countdown list, being inspired by the likes of @umbramagna777​, @phantomstrider​ and even the Nostalgia Critic. After some considerate years, I have finally decided to make a list based on my all time favorite show The Powerpuff Girls.

Cartoon Network's breakaway hit of the late 90s and early to mid 00s starring three adorable, precocious little kindergartners with superpowers was a cultural phenomenon. Spawning hundreds and thousands of merchandise, a theatrical film, several TV specials, an anime and a reboot, it's unbelievable that a cartoon with an all female lead would become an icon in the cartoon industry.

Created by Craig McCracken fresh off two pilots in the "What A Cartoon" shorts and evolving from the earliest incarnation "Whoopass Stew", The Powerpuff Girls became the highest rated cartoon debut at the time. Critics praised this show for being so unique, entertaining, epic, action packed and nothing like anything else at the time, but most of all, this show was very, very funny.

But that doesn't mean this show gets all the glory and praise 100% per episode, like every television show, there will always be flaws and bad episodes and, the Powerpuff Girls is no exception when it comes to rotten entries in the line-up.

Whether you like these episodes or not, remember to respect each other's opinions, including mine. If you like these episodes, that's great, you're more than welcome to have your say, but be nice.

I am only counting down episodes from the ORIGINAL series, this won't include the movie, the anime, the Dance Pansted special, The tenth anniversary special, the christmas special or especially the reboot.

Mixing either of these up would be one big mess and would derail my points of view. With that being said, let's begin.

NOTE: Spoiler alert ahead.

 10. Keen on Keane   This episode was a new era for the original show, it had a new art style which was first introduced in the movie. So if you hadn't seen it, you would have had to get use to this new art style before getting puzzled or confused.

Unfortunately, these episodes were somewhat mediocre and after 2002, show creator Craig McCracken left the show to Chris Savino, so he could work on Foster's Home for Imaginery Friends. Usually when this happens, that's a sign of a show losing it's...err...Mojo. No pun intended. For a first of this newly animated version of the show, this episode is just ...well...sappy.  

So what's the story: It's Valentines Day...oh boy, what a way to start the new era of an already great show. I am NOT a fan of this holiday whether I'm taken or not. I prefer to keep romance and affection personal.

While receiving various little Valentines from her beloved students, Ms. Keane gets the one simple innocent question asked by the girls: "Where are you going out tonight?" and "Who's your sweetheart?" (don't you just love precocious little questions coming from kindergartners). Ms. Keane explains to the girls that she doesn't have time for going out on dates and is too busy for that sort of thing, this leaves the girls slightly worried, knowing she may be lonely and in need of a significant other half.

Later that evening, the girls are all at dinner with the Professor whose attention prompts the innocent, curious little question from an inquisitive Blossom "Why aren't you going out, tonight?".

Personally, if he WAS going out, he may need to hire a babysitter for the girls and knowing the Professor, he may end up calling someone but being delayed or on hold due to everybody with their arms round each other, making googoo eyes and lip wrestling all evening as they bask into their romance.

Anyway, the Professor tells the girls that HE doesn't have time for dates or going out, nor does he have a sweetheart...(hope he hasn't forgotten the events a long time ago when meeting Ima Goodlady who turned out to be using him and was revealed to be Sedusa).

On hearing this, the girls trade rather sly and calculating looks to each other, a plan has hit them. If their father isn't going out and doesn't have a sweetheart and Ms Keane doesn't have a sweetheart, why not get them together for date?

At Ms. Keane's place, she is busy grading homework. On hearing the doorbell ring, she goes to answer the door only to recieve a love letter from a secret admirer and a rose. Oh bittersweet cliches...

Round the same time, the Professor too recieves an identical love letter from a secret admirer (by the way, I do love how he recieves a red rose and Ms Keane recieves a pink rose).  The two admirers meet at "Petes-A Pizza", an obvious parody to Chuck E Cheese, you can just feel how out of place these two are.

Not to hurt each others feelings, the two adults try to strike a conversation, but seem to show no interest in each other, all they can do is slap on a plastic smile each.

As they try to communicate and interact more and order, Ms. Keane suddenly forces a hearty little smile, stunning and questioning the Professor. As she tells him to look behind him, he sees that his own daughters are hiding in the large ball tank, this catches on as both Ms Keane and Professor Utonium have realized that they had been set up.

Unfortunately, the evening was unsuccessful and the Professor offers his date a ride home with three dejected little girls in the back. Their high hopes sunk to the bottom, gone down like a ship, but the Professor tells them if they did end up going out, then he wouldn't have enough time to spend with his own daughters. As he walks her to her door, Ms. Keane trips on a crack, the Professor immediately dashes forward to catch her. After bewilderment and indecision on what to do next, Ms Keane and the Professor's hearts become intertwine. As they stand up straight, they both share a nervous laugh while blushing (by the way, I find this scene amazingly cute, I mean...the Professor here is just...OMG, how can you not just want to reach out and dive into his arms...ahem...).  Finally,  they hold hands and are somehow...in love. Also note this is the only time in the episode where they see each other  face to face. Feeling accomplished, the girls smile knowing that their mission is complete . The following morning, the girls notice that not everything is all hunky-dory! Now having a significant other half, the Professor neglects his family duties and lab work and Ms Keane neglecting her school duties and even forgetting to feed her cat. Why? Because the two most important role models in the girls' lives are now sickeningly sweethearts talking to each other endlessly on the phone together, complete with EVERY single sentence ending with a mushy pet name. And you know what? It's really degrading! Also that phonebill must be really expensive by now,

Because of the neglection, the girls don't know what crimes are being caused....seriously, not even watching the news? Also, doesn't Ms Bellum have a light for a signal? Why couldn't she  just set that up in the sky for them?

But no! Instead, Sara Bellum gets kidnapped while the conversation continues until the Mayor sneezes, causing the couple to realize that they were holding up phoneline and neglecting their duties, including feeding the cat. This upsets the Professor and complains about the past event where a cat made him jump off a building which somehow, Ms Keane doesn't believe and causes them both to suddenly break up. Hmm...like every other couple today right? Okay that was bad.

Overall, this was a weak episode with no crime fighting at all and for a new start of upgraded animation, this was pretty bad. Especially being a Valentines themed episode.

9. City of Clipsville  I ought to let you know that seasons five and six sucked. Big time and this episode is no exception. I am not much of a fan of clip shows and this one was really weak, lame and the repetitive dialogue is as entertaining as a stale book made for toddlers. "Remember when Mojo Jojo turned us into dogs?"...umm...yeah? There's like two episodes with pretty much the same chunks of animation of it and it doesn't help that they referenced BOTH episodes! Also, did we really want to be reminded of some of the more mediocre episodes?

Mind you, most of these little trips down memory lane never happened. These include The Professor marrying Ms Bellum...for some reason, the girls losing their superpowers without realizing until they fall off a building...the Professor turning the girls AND all of Townsville's citizens into helpless infants...(no, seriously...make way for cliche'd moments whenever a baby is in a cartoon, which I'll get to later), complete with Blossom spitting up over the Professor's shoulder.

BUT the most most shameful fan-service cringe-worthy moment would have to be a quote on quote flashback of when the girls sped up time and became teenagers. Oh my god! Just...yeah. Complete with their midriff showing, slender figures, skinny jeans and stereotypical valley girl accents and mannerisms such as blowing bubble gum talking on their cellphones and ...discovering boys, teenage boys...in this case, the Rowdyruff Boys.

Yeah...remember when I said that the whole counterpart thing is a drag, well they do it here too. But this time, they are somewhat getting along, yet the girls are ditzier. I do love some of the hidden innuendos snuck in this scene visually and audibly.

Besides this episode being a weak one, I do admit that I like how the girls looked as teenagers, a bit two fan-service material-esque but still cute. I love how Bubbles still kept her pigtails in, but are a little longer, Blossom's red hair still makes me jealous *seriously...) and Buttercup growing out that little bob, it suits her.

Of course, I can't mention this scene without the fact that it was a reference to Craig McCracken's fan mail he was  receiving from fans about what would happen if the girls and boys were couples. He hated the idea so he decided to poke fun at this little trope.

Interestingly, there was going to be a scene that never made it, but there were storyboards lying around of the teenage girls becoming popstars...obviously a reference to the likes of Mandy Moore, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera and other teen idols, maybe even the lesser known band that have since broke up, No Secrets.

The episode gets more stupid as everyone somehow ends up in the house until the episode ends which turns out to be filmed in front of a "live audience". Yeah, just...weak.

If you do like this episode, that's great, it does have a few funny moments but I still feel like it's just another cheap bland clip show.  

8. Neighbor Hood Good god was this episode lame? The moral was a good one I will admit, but first, the story...Bubbles rushes home from school in time to watch her favorite show: The Wondrous World of Whimsical Willy. Mr. Willy being the host of the show (and an obvious parody of Mr, Rogers) greets his audience warmly, at first, he seems like the typical friendly, harmless, yet unsettling kind of person on a kid's show. He never snaps, he's calm and mellow. But when Daydream Lane loses all of the happiness and joy, Mr Willy asks his audience to hand over all of their cash to him so they don't lose hope.

Being naive and simple, not wanting the show to fall flat with misery, Bubbles somehow breaks into the town hall and takes off with the money in the Mayor's vault and hands it over to Mr Willy and the rest of the crew on set. By the way, the Mayor also donated...yeah, he's a man child. lol

Meanwhile, back at home, after getting a phone call from the Mayor, Buttercup and Blossom notice their sister live on TV with a huge bag of money, thanking Bubbles, Mr Willy and his gang celebrate until Bubbles' sisters barge in telling Mr Willy to literally drop his act.

Sweaty and nervous, Mr Willy finally snaps and reveals his true plan to steal all of the money of Townsville, showing his true colors at last. Bubbles demands an explanation and tells her sisters that Mr. Willy isn't a crook, he just needed the money to help save Daydream Lane. Blossom isn't buying it and tells Bubbles that none of this is real and that the whole set is just canvas painted with scenery and backgrounds and the crew are all crooks in costume.

Now shocked and realizing she had been conned along with the rest of the those who donated, Bubbles loses faith in Mr Willy and the show and even refuses to save his fall. In case you might guess, Mr Willy is arrested and thrown in prison and Bubbles apologizes for her foolish act and also that she shouldn't believe on what she sees on television. In a way, this is a great moral for kids, especially when the main cast are kindergartners, but come on, the girls are more precocious than this, they are better than this. This is basically a weaker version of Film Flam.

This episode is really unsettling for many reasons.  Mr Willy asking for donations from little kids, isn't that a little creepy and somewhat makes him a pedophile? But to go as far as flying all the way to the set on your own and revealing the stolen cash is even more risky and dangerous.

I have read something interesting here from the PPG wikia, this episode was based real-life events in a 1965 New Year incident where Soupy Sales, miffed at having to work on the holiday, ended his live broadcast by encouraging his young viewers to tiptoe into their still-sleeping parents' bedrooms and remove those "funny green pieces of paper with pictures of U.S. Presidents" from their pants and pocketbooks. "Put them in an envelope and mail them to me," Soupy instructed the children. "And I'll send you a postcard from Puerto Rico!" He was then hit with a pie. He later admitted that he was joking and that the money would be donated to a charity, but Sales was negatively affected by the incident.

Also I learned that this episode was actually written back in 1999 as a season 2 episode, but was scrapped since the staff feared a lawsuit from PBS, so instead the story was given to DC Comics named Remote Controlled. The story was much better and less mediocre compared to this one. It's such a downfall when a great cartoon runs it's course and episodes that were originally written for the comics suddenly have elements thrown onto the screen and never live up to how they could have been.

There's something else I would like to point out here. I saw this comment on the PPG wikia by a user named Crossoverfan4ever and he pointed out that Bubbles commited a crime and got away with it, and did she get punished? Of course not, because she's, cute, innocent adorable, precious, sweet little Bubbles who can probably get away with murder if she tried.

So...in A Very Special Blossom, Blossom steals a rather valuable set of golf clubs and gets punished for it with 200 hours of community service, yet the Professor asks the cops to go easy on her and she's also sorry (seriously, you can feel her sorrow in her voice and that face just says it all).

In the fan-loathing controversial episode Moral Decay, Buttercup commits a crime by breaking into the local villains homes and steals their teeth for money from the "tooth fairy" after already beating up crooks for committing crimes. Her punishment: Ambushed by her worst enemies as her sisters sadistically watch her get beat up (note that Buttercup is a little girl, so can you imagine the pain inflicted on her?). Going back to Neighbor Hood, yeah, it's bad. One of season five's worst.

7. Crazy Mixed-Up Puffs

Season six was definitely the weakest link in the original show's run, so in a way, it's a breath of fresh air when McCracken and Savino declined a season seven from Cartoon Network (much to the disappointment to the fans).

CMUP just made way for some really weak points in writing and character development and derailment. Whichever one, even my feelings for this are mixed up...or mesed up. Whatever!  

In this episode, Mojo Jojo is watching old clips of the past fights and battles he has had with the girls and soon stops for an ice cream break. Unforunately, a little girl is in front of him and he deters her. As Mojo orders his three scoops (which happen to resemble the signature colors of the Powerpuff Girls), the little girl throws her ball at him, causing him to drop the ice cream onto the floor. As it does, Mojo gets an idea.

Mojo then goes home to his lair and creates a dummy of a girl calling for help, attracting attention from the Powerpuff Girls, they fly over to save her and are immediately caught in his trap.

The machine swirls the girls together, fusing them all into one and because of this, the girls find it hard to fly, spin and even keep their own balance, not to mention worsening their arguments every single time. It's really unpleasant to watch.

From here, the girls  now have to rely on each other with trust and work as a team to stop Mojo. After finally making their way to Mojo, they defeat him, destroying the fuse machine with a huge blast, but are still stuck together as one.

As they make their way back to the Mayor's office, they get Professor Utonium to try and seperate them. Feeling hopeless, the Professor breaks down into tears knowing that his daughters will never be the same, but they tell him that they don't mind being this close and reassure him that everything is going to be okay. The Mayor finds a thread from their fused dresses and pulls it which somehow...separates the girls restoring them to their glory. I do love when the Professor tells the girls that he loves them all, it's moments like this that always make the show great, it's too bad this episode suffered from mediocicy, unpleasant arguments and...this (Really? After all you've been through, you decide to add this in here?) NOTE: Never let Paul Stec or someone else write a Powerpuff Girls episode storyline which may result into tasteless immature fart jokes...speaking of which...

6. Reeking Havoc Season six...why? Why did you have to go with this crap? An entire episode about flatulence? Really? Okay, well silently but still visually. I for one don't care for this kind of humor, it's immature, lame, not funny, pointless and...just go watch South Park if you're into that stuff (by the way, I'm a huge fan of South Park, freakin' ironic I know! lol).

The Girls have just returned home from enjoying a beautiful sunny day in spring, admiring the fresh air until their noses are suddenly inflicted with the smell of something ...not so fresh, in this case, chili. Yep! Because how else are the writers going to come up with an episode which is ten minutes of fart jokes. Real mature. Not.

It turns out that the girls father Professor Utonium is cooking this...chili for the "2nd Annual Chili Cook-Off" in Townsville. The girls reluctantly try a sample, as expected by them and those watching, it doesn't go down well (we even see a shot of Buttercup losing it in the waste-bin). Worried that he may lose again, Blossom decides that they should tell the Professor, but her sisters object due to the year before, in which the Professor lost and broke down.

Later that night, the Professor still thinks his chili needs something extra...or should that be "x-tra"...with that, he adds a drop of Chemical X into the concoction. Sure, because somehow that works right? Also, maybe adding COFFEE into the chili is the reason it doesn't taste so good. Later on that night, the girls (one by one) also happen to put a drop of Chemical X in the chili.

The following morning during the annual chili contest, the judges (which happen to be Ms Keane, the Mayor and Sara Bellum) are trying out all the dishes that have been made for the event when soon, they try the Professor's chilli causing reactions that they never experienced before. With that, the Professor is declared the winner of the contest and is awarded the trophy and with that, the Mayor hands out free samples of the prize winning chilli.

What then follows is nothing but flatulent puns, visual and audible, one after the other while everyone's guts start growling and all that gas happens to escape and creates...a giant methane monster. No, seriously! A giant cloud made out of everyone's gas! What were the writers thinking, seriously? It's like they have watched Ren and Stimpy and got some ideas off there, no? 

The following day, the methane monster soon causes chaos all over Townsville and his stench is so unbearable that it causes everyone to feel nauseous and complain. This then causes the Mayor to call the girls and...*sighs*...watching them trying to fight off a huge flatulent monster is just...well...yeah. Lame.  

As if stinking up the city has already been done in season 2's Down and Dirty, but that as caused by Buttercup refusing to bathe, but nope, we get a full on episode with gastronomical proportions and bad jokes!

From here, we get some rather ridiculously stomach churning moments including the girls actually trying to suck the monster up...err...gross? So...after the mention of a "match", Blossom gets an idea and takes off and returns again in seconds with...a giant match...no seriously AND to make this episode even more cringy, she mentions that she got it from the same place where she got the giant jar in "episode two season one". Was that really necessary?

I don't wanna go on since its pretty cliche'd with the fact that entering a chili cook-off with an ingredient that happens to be linked to chaos, it's obvious what that equals.

This was a bad episode and I mean really really bad. GOLDEN RULE: Keep fart jokes off this show! Oh wait...the reboot pushed that further! *sighs*

5. Gettin' Twiggy With It Consider this the Pet Sitter Pat episode of The Powerpuff Girls. Nearly every character in this show is likable, funny, great, relatable and somehwhat a decent role model. All but one...that being a less major character: the girls class mate Mitch Mitchellson. A sadistic, nasty, evil, selfish, greedy, manipulative  child who takes pleasure in bullying his fellow...ahem...classmates. Think of him as the Nelson Muntz of Townsville. Think of him as Ren Hoek off Ren Seeks Help in Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon, or maybe even Stewie Griffin. In this episode, it's Friday and that means one of the kids has the responsibility of taking the class hamster Twiggy home. The girls volunteer, but somehow Ms. Keane chooses Mitch to look after her.

This episode is legimately painful to watch in my opinion. As an animal lover (especially hamsters) who hates animal cruelty to a degree couldn't even watch this. It isn't funny, isn't a pleasure to watch, it's just sick, twisted and evil, I'm glad though that the episode itslef wasn't treated as comedic, that would make me up this episode straight to number one in my opinion. Mitch apparently says he never owned a pet before, yet you can clearly see that he has a snake in the background, what the hell?

I like how when Twiggy becomes a vicious monster, the girls do their part to save him, but still teach him a lesson in harming little Twiggy. It's rare for an episode to be played out seriously for the most part, yet this is just so difficult to watch. Especially all the ways Mitch tortures the hamster.

Gettin' Twiggy With It is just nasty and an unwatchable episode. It's unpleasant, demented and just uncomfortable to watch. For a better review on this episode, I suggest reading this: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/1001-Animations-Gettin-Twiggy-With-It-517452789. He does great reviews and provides decent detail.

Overall, Mitch Mitchellson is hands down my most despised character in The Powerpuff Girls, maybe even worse than Princess Morbucks. And that's saying a lot. 

4. Girls Gone Mild I don't think there's one countdown of top ten worst PPG without this episode at least appearing on there. It's bad, the story, the premise, the fact that this episode was inspired by letters Craig McCracken received from parents thinking the violence was appropriate as a defence, pretty much the Three Girls and A Monster of the Chris Savino era. This episode is basically like a reminder that parents and legal guardians are the ones who should ultimately take responsibility for their children's actions instead of just blaming other people for it. But for what it is, it's not funny or entertaining and definitely one worth skipping. Need I point out that the two people of "P.A.P.P" (People Against Powerpuff Girls) were played by the same people behind the voices of Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly Odd Parents?

But seriously, where do these two come from? Clearly not from Townsville otherwise they'd be more than happy to ask for the girls help, but no, instead they eat everything up with complaints and threaten to sue the Professor if the girls start using their superpowers again. I hate tropes like this, especially when we all know in the end, they go back to normal and do what they do best. Now if only they were kicking Stanley and Sandra Practice's butts instead.

3. Moral Decay *sighs* some of you have definitely seen this one coming but you can see why. It's one of the most unpleasant, mean spirited and degrading episodes of the Craig McCracken era. What were the writers actually thinking?

Buttercup's nothing but a straight up sadist in this episode, the moment those mouth muscles form a malicious slasher smirk, she has straight up changed in personality throughout the episode. After accidentally knocking one of Bubbles' teeth out, she learns of the "tooth fairy" bringing money in exchange for teeth under kid's pillows and what does she do? She constantly abuses Bubbles just to try and knock out her teeth.

First off, Buttercup may be tough, but she loves her sisters dearly and wouldn't think of abusing her own sisters for kicks. Sure she gets into scrapes now and then, argues and teases them, but she would never want to hurt them to this extent!

UmbraMagna's stated this before on YouTube but have they go something against Buttercup, did they hate her character? Why did she always get the rough stuff in punishment and treatment? Think about it? In Down and Dirty, she refuses to bathe and even gets kicked out the house until she gives in and is forcefully given a full scrub by her own sisters. In Cover Up, a whole opportunity is wasted  on a story that could have had a heartwarming peptalk scene between Buttercup and the Professor, there, Buttercup feels vulnerable without her security blanket. You gotta remember that she is a little girl, it's normal for someone her age to have a baby blanket.

Going back to Moral Decay, it's a terrible episode that's just painful to watch and do NOT get me started on the ending. The Professor at his most non-caring right here, not to mention that close out ending scene. As punishment, the Professor pays covers Buttercup's dental bills with the money she "saved". By the way, I suggest you check out @UmbraMagna's extended review on this episode. Since mostly I'd be shadowing and echoing what she has said, along with A Very Special Blossom in her top 10 worst PPG eps countdown.

2. Sun Scream/The City Of Frownsville I put these two together because...well, they both aired together, simple as, bit cheap and not so well explained or thought but what else. These two episodes are just torture! Despite being on different topics. 

First off, Sun Scream. This episode is just a chore to get though. The girls all catch the sun after refusing to put sunscreen lotion on while trying to stop a solar flare from plummeting to the earth. What do their fans and the rest of the citizens do? They laugh at them, instead of showing concern for three kids who have badly been sunburned. Just...what has happened to Townsville?

The rest of the episode is nothing but the girls struggling to get up out of bed and trying to answer the hotline, getting dressed to even struggling to attack some con artists. I won't spoil this episode but if you have made it through till the end then good luck, this one's just painful to watch.

Then we have The City of Frownsville. Although being dedicated to those who lost their lives during 9-11 (with all my respect, I pray now even). Despite this, this episode is nothing but everyone sobbing their eyes out for ten minutes. If you can't stand nails scratching on a chalkboard, then you will definitely not be able to make it through this episode.

All of Townsville's put under a spell by "Lou Gubrious" and his machine that causes everyone to cry uncontrollably, this then reverses his mood giving him the new name "Hal Larious" (please, seriously?), the rest...ugh.

Skip this one while you can guys.

Before I get to number one, I'd like to give out a few dishonorable mentions.

Cover Up - For shaming Buttercup being a softy. Also her sisters cruelly laughing at her. Twisted Sister - First off, I don't hate this episode as a whole, I don't like what they did with the new sister Bunny. She's unstable, but her slurred speech and lack of English, as well as dying in so called comedic fashion's a bit too much. Fallen Arches - Blossom's unbearable in this episode. Sure, we should respect the elderly but refusing to fight these crooks and throw'em in jail. Just...no. Sweet and Sour - Ugh, cutesey animals getting away with crime and the citizens are just as clueless because they are "TOO CUTE!". Come on! Pee Pee Gs - Unsettling and nothing but pee jokes. Umm...no, unfunny and a cringefest. Prime Mates - Mopey Popo's constant complaining and rambling in his Droopy-esque voice and the girls not having enough screen time make this a true downer. A Very Special Blossom - Ugh, one of the first of episodes where one of the girls does wrong and gets punished for it. In this case, Blossom's dark side shows when she steals a valuable set of golf clubs just to please the Professor for Father's Day. That's Not My Baby - Ah the baby cliche! Whether it's abandoned or just being looked after the whole package is there. The baby never stops crying, and when it eats, it's diaper needs to be changed yada yada yada, I'm sick of this cliche and this episode's no better. HOW did they not even notify the Professor even? I left it out of here because the ending was actually clever. Cop Out - Forgettable, bland and yeah. Unfunny, also that cop. Ugh. Custody Battle - Just doesn't feel like a PPG episode, but a Rowdyruff Boys spinoff. Also the whole two daddies thing...nah. Divide and Conquer - I know education and learning's important but an entire maths episode...nope. Save Mojo - I'm a bit of an animal activist, no lies but...a cartoon chimpanzee with constant diabolical plans to destroy the Powerpuff Girls and take over the world, that's different (plus a cartoon), and...yeah. Basically Girls Gone Mild with animal activists and protesters. Say Uncle - Absolutely forgettable and lame. Mizzen In Action - I love the Crack McCraigen pun name but over all, this swash buckling episode's one of the show's most forgettable episodes. Seed No Evil - Bland and boring and...seriously, what's this all about seeds in olden times? The City of Nutsville - Bubbles gets stung in the throat by a bee/wasp and her sisters actually laugh at her...messed up. Also, squirrel apocalypse. Insane. West in Pieces - Ugh...ancestors of the Powerpuff Girls? really? As if Seed No Evil was no better.

And the number one worst Powerpuff Girls episode is...

1. Toast Of The Town I HATE this episode! Talk about character derailment, especially when you're in the middle of season five. If you can get through this episode listening to the Mayor speak in the third person, good for you, because there's a lot of it and it's enough to make your eardrums split.

The Mayor has a huge craving for toast (say, at least SOMEONE now has a toaster unlike everybody in Too Pooped To Puff few seasons back) but his toaster is out of range, so he goes to the Professor to have it fixed. And with that, we get some of the most cringe inducing audio, lack lustered story writing and some of the most ANNOYING dialogue in any episode! The Mayor is basically nothing but...a child in a man's body here. The Professor won't fix his toaster because he's busy, but after more complaining from the Mayor, he gets on with the job and the Mayor is so impatient he asks in seconds if it's done yet...really? The Mayor is an idiot, that's for sure, but at least he means well and loves his city and job and looks out for the girls. BUT his stupidity here is both questionable, childish and dumbed down to a tee!

The Professor makes the Mayor wait somewhere in the lab which he does despite still dejected and impatient. What follows is...the Mayor curiously pressing buttons like a child and setting off an alarm and causing a huge explosion in the lab...err...is this Dexter's Lab or The Powerpuff Girls? Some weird pattern here! Anyway, the Professor then proceeds to let the Mayor stay put by putting him in a high chair...for...some reason...

Later on, the Mayor discovers a can of Chemical X and rubs some of it on his head thinking it's hair growth formula and...his entire body is now the size of King Kong, complete with a shameless parody to boot. I don't need to explain anymore of this.

Seriously? The Mayor's third person speech and childish behaviour here is some of the worst character derailment I've ever seen. As I said with Gettin' Twiggy With It, there's a more detailed review here by Regulas314: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/Animated-Atrocities-Toast-of-the-Town-475588395

There's no other way I can mention this episode without any...ahem spoilers, but I suggest avoiding it while you can. SERIOUSLY! This episode's unbearable!

Compare the Mayor in episodes like Uh Oh Dynamo, where he was against the girls having the city destroyed (even though it was the Professor making the girls use the Dynamo). Then compare him here...it's just painful. And with that, let me know what you think which episodes do you think are th eabsolute worst? 

[wygolvillage]

been thinking about how i would make a remake/reimagining of simons quest. long post ahead. might be a little stupid since im no game designer or writer or anything lol

random gameplay stuff

it would be metroidvania style, but not all in the castle. imagine it like ooe but the map is interconnected.

i would keep the day/night cycle but it would be less obnoxious of course... probably there would be a little clock on the HUD showing what time it is and how close you are to nightfall. villagers would go inside during the night, but you can still enter churches. churches are your most reliable healing method since save rooms would be pretty sparse in the rest of the world map, and saving at the churches also allows you to skip straight to morning or nightfall if you so desire. being stuck in the middle of the woods during night can be disastrous if the player is ill-prepared since monsters grow stronger then.

there would still be puzzles to figure out and complete, and it would still be a bit cryptic (not to the degree of the original of course), but there is a supporting character i would put in who you can ask for hints at any time, and hers are a lot more straightforward (more on her later). important items are gained through quests rather than bought with hearts, but drop rates would be VERY forgiving since it’s required. like, a villager promises to give you the red crystal if you can get him some fish meat from a merman, which would have about a 40% drop rate... i kind of wanted to preserve the sense of fighting monsters to forage for materials the original has without making the game a total grindfest :P

additionally, materials dropped from monsters can be used to craft food items after simon teams up with the aforementioned supporting character. like i said before, save rooms wouldn’t be super common so it would be implemented as a way to heal yourself when you’re away from town.

the bosses would be decently difficult to compensate with there being very few of them- a true challenge, but they can be beaten with both playable characters if the player is skilled enough

the plot would be expanded upon as well so lemme give a little summary

it begins in simons house where he wakes up having trouble breathing. he’s been struggling with some physical illness ever since battling dracula years prior, especially a nasty bite on his arm he sustained during the fight, and that arm has been turning a pretty nasty shade of grey, like its wasting away. he goes outside to a graveyard near a local church to try and get some fresh air, but it is largely unhelpful. suddenly, he spots an old woman standing at one of the graves. he looks over at him and says mysteriously “ah... must be a horrible night for a curse.” simon is like “what do you mean?!” the old woman tells him to “resurrect him and destroy what remains, or nothing will remain of you”. she then disappears into thin air, implying she’s a ghost or something equally spooky. simon is like “destroy what remains... dracula’s remains?!”

the game starts properly in the graveyard and surrounding forest as simon heads in a fairly straight path towards the town of jova, where he meets a woman a few years younger than him named agnes. agnes’ parents were killed by dracula’s forces when he was resurrected back then, and she admires simon greatly for defeating the dark lord (shes also implied to be a descendant of grant danasty!). she decides to accompany him on his quest after hearing about his curse. he asks the head priest of the town if he knows about dracula’s remains, and the priest tells him that he heard of some of dracula’s followers placing some of dracula’s body parts in their strongholds to worship, and points him to the direction of the first stronghold and hands him a stake. he also warns them that bringing all of his remains together can resurrect the dark lord and it holds a remarkable corrupting power.

simon and agnes then become a character swapping duo (just like portrait of ruin hehehe). agnes is low on defense but can deal plenty of damage at a close range, and her signature weapon is the golden knife. she’s fast as well, whereas simon is more of a slow, defensive character who is best at keeping distance between himself and the enemy. agnes is smart, but impulsive and stubborn, and doesn’t like being told that she’s wrong. simon is a stoic but kind individual who tends to keep to himself. their personalities occasionally cause conflict between them during the adventure, but they eventually grow to become really good friends.

eventually they reach berkeley mansion, the first of the strongholds, and its aesthetic is very much “dark evil church”. there are the usual skeletons and bats and stuff, but some of the dracula followers are regular enemies as well. the first boss is a human who has dedicated his life to following dracula (specifically to contrast against the priest dude who gave simon the stake and directions) who uses magic attacks and stuff. beating him earns simon dracula’s rib, which functions suprisingly well as a shield (which becomes important later).

the adventure continues on like this, going from town to mansion to town, with simons curse becoming more and more hindering to him (from a story perspective not a gameplay one. simon wont become worse to play as because that would be lame as hell). they go to the other mansions, with the bosses being carmilla (guarding the nail of vlad, in a mansion thats very much a vampires lair), olrox (guarding the eyeball, in a massive dining hall themed mansion) death (guarding vlads ring in a Spooky Clockwork Skeleton Mansion with slogras and gaibons and all the usual death stuff), and in the final mansion... there is no boss. just as simon is about to grab the heart, agnes stops him.

Agnes: You told me you were going to destroy the remains, weren’t you?

Simon: Of... Of course, Agnes. Why do you ask?

Agnes: Why haven’t you?

Simon: ...

Agnes: We have almost all of them. You remember what the priest said, right? That bringing them together can resurrect Dracula.

Simon: Well... I haven’t exactly been truthful, Agnes. The old woman who sent me on this quest didn’t tell me just to destroy his remains...

Agnes: So you’ve been intending to resurrect the Dark Lord this whole time? For your own selfish gain?

Simon: This curse will kill me if I don’t.

Agnes: ...So it’s true, then. You’re willing to risk the lives of thousands just to save your own skin. Lives like my parents’... Lives like mine.

Simon: I...

Agnes: There’s no need to explain yourself, oh great hero, Simon Belmont. (Scoffs) If you care more for yourself than anyone else, strike me down now!

surprise! simon has to fight against his best friend! tbh i would be pissed at him too lmao. and it’s a tough fight, as agnes can deal a ton of damage and is hard to dodge. killing her like any other boss will give you the bad ending, where simon realizes she was right and lets himself succumb to the curse out of guilt for her death. the way to the good ending is to use dracula’s rib as a shield (i told you it would be important!) or dodge/survive her attacks until she tires out (the shield is the best method though), and realizes simon doesn’t want to hurt her. they have a touching emotional moment and simon assures her that he beat dracula before and can do it again, but he will need her help. agnes nods, and they head to the ruins of dracula’s old castle, which is totally empty. there’s no music, while the rest of the game has been filled with catchy tunes, here there’s only ambient noise.

they reach the throne room and place drac’s remains on a pedestal, where they begin to glow with dark energy. blood is dripping down the walls and stuff, and the count is returning to the mortal plane as thunder booms in the background. simon begins to doubt himself. if he loses now, the world will be plunged into darkness, and it will all be his fault. but... agnes has his back, despite everything. they fight dracula together, and though it’s tough with simon’s weakened body, they eventually prevail, as simon drives the stake into his heart, the curse finally lifted.

the game ends with agnes and simon returning to jova. agnes admits that she’s still upset with simon for lying to her, but she would be even more upset if he died slowly because of her. simon sighs, stating that there was no easy solution to the situation they were in, and asks for forgiveness for breaking her trust and risking so much for his own desires. agnes says maybe one day she will forgive him completely, and she still considers him a friend, but she needs some time to herself. simon nods, and they go their separate ways.

SO YEAH idk if this is even good but i hope u at least enjoyed reading it. maybe ill make designs for this version of simon, and for agnes too ofc :D

...yeah, not exactly the happiest ending, but i always found it kind of weird that simon was so willing to resurrect the count to save himself from the curse, so that’s the main conflict i decided to add to the story. its not the sort of conflict that can be easily resolved. theres no easy answer... agnes was right about simon risking other peoples lives being wrong, but she was also wrong to insist that he just give up and let the curse kill him instead. its Complicated idk... Castlevania II: Simon’s Trolley Problem

edit: actually i decided there would be two "true endings" after using the shield in the agnes fight. the one i described, and a second one where they decide against resurrecting dracula and simon lives out the short rest of his days with agnes until he dies of the curse. both endings are considered equally canon and valid

[seancamerons]

First line game

Tagged by nobody !! Thank you for the tag, I genuinely love these things 🧡

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories! See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors! (I don't know if it's last 20 posted or last 20 WIPs so we're gonna compromise and do last 10 posted and last 7 WIPs I've been working on!) Favorite authors: @reinhartroleplays and i’m not sure but theodorathayer from ff.net and ao3 come to mind idk if she’s on here.  The starred ones are my favorites. 

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WIP 

Summer Daze It's July 2004 and Emma and Chris aren't doing well together. Between Chris being somewhat distant, temperamental and preoccupied with music and overall lack of communication between the pair Emma assumes it'll only be a matter of time before their relationship is over. They talk everyday but the romance leaves a lot to be desired.

Maybe this Christmas Emma Nelson awoke bright and early 7:00 AM to her alarm buzzing and she was anything but chipper. It was a cold December morning and she shivered once she took the blankets off her in her king-sized bed. Together Forever * Emma Nelson spent her summer days by the pool catching rays and nights at the ravine with someone unexpected - Jay Hogart. Summer fling, nothing committed or serious. Its August 2005 and the living is rather easy. Backtrack The bells on the door jingle as a figure trudges in to the warmth of The Dot, the neighborhood eatery at closing time on a Saturday night. The streets were bare aside from a few cars; it's at this time that Emma typically closes down shop and goes home. She carefully picked up a cup left behind at a table to send to the back. Focused on her craft she didn't really budge making sure she didn't drop anything. She often believes it's not a normal workday if at least one mug breaks. I Have Nothing * '...I can never forget how we ended on such bad terms with that fight, and then he left my heart bleeding in his hands as I crumbled my photograph meant for him. It sucks how it haunts me to see him every day,' Emma writes in her bright red diary with a pen as she takes a sip of Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. She sighs and then finishes, 'he was so not who I thought he was.' She almost had half the mind to tear out the entry crumble it into the trashcan like she did that photograph. This was how Emma spent most weeknights in the basement bedroom getting plastered and writing her thoughts in a diary.  Orange Car of Secrets (Hiatus) Emma Nelson, Jay Hogart and Ellie Nash have just piled into the car and were en route back home. It was around six o'clock. The sun was orange in the sky and the air was stale. The three were hungry, sweating and dirty still from the sand lingering in their clothes. It had been a long day and a day of ages for the misfit ragtag group of acquaintances. Emma had longingly looked out the window to see their friend, Sean Cameron being ripped from their lives and their memories. She saw he had tears in his eyes. Judging by his demeanor it was difficult for him to say his goodbyes. One thing that struck her as strange was he hadn't even said goodbye to her. The wordless look was all she needed to get her by. It was worth a thousand goodbyes. Maybe his goodbye to her was just the hardest one because of their past that he more than made up for in the last twenty-four hours or so. The Starlet and the Dealer (Discontinued) Zoe Rivas, child-starlet was the epitome of popular with teenaged girls. She was just sixteen herself. Piles and piles of both open and unopened letters handwritten and typed come from girls all over, some in English some in other languages that only a translator could read litter her bedroom. If the girls knew her day to day life they likely wouldn't have had such nice things to say. Honestly, they would have probably of text messaged and tweeted their thoughts or anonymously hurl threats from a computer screen. 

One-Shots/Drabbles

Why don’t you believe me? *

Sean entered the main vestibule at the courthouse handcuffed with an officer present for court. Emma's mind was flooded with sadness as she saw him battered and bruised.

Mutual

The words turned her world from bright and innocent full of hope in the air to darken shades of monochrome. Fortunately for Emma, there was still a lingering light still flickering in the distance. Although Archie had only been her family for a short time, he was always around and she never would be able to fathom a world without him.

Homecooked Meal

The first day of school was pretty eventful for Sean but he was glad that it's over. After the final bell rings he makes the trek to caf to see Sheila the lunch lady. He hadn't seen her all summer and he had to stay behind in Simpson's class because he wanted to talk to him so he missed lunch.

Addicted

I didn't mean to see that you know, see him scoring drugs on the street corner from one of those sketchy thugs down the street. I was buying the newest installment of the Fortnight book series to sink my teeth into, no pun intended. Maybe fun intended, maybe I should put down Fortnight, I'm too old for vampire fantasies not when very real ones exist in my life.

Unfinished Business *

The only time we can be together is while she's asleep, how lame does that sound? I can stay in her house forever if I wanted to. I was invited there even if she doesn't want to acknowledge me. It's my fault she doesn't listen to my messages or chooses to ignore them. I get that now and if she resents me forever it'll hurt. She never mentions me. My name is Cam, but I know you were thinking I might as well be named Casper the friendly. . wait for it don't finish. 

Honesty Maya Matlin stood still for a moment, playing back the recent moment in her mind as it echoed and swam through her brain. "I should've just kissed you." He whispered just inches from her, his eyes wide. Her eyebrow raised and then he just walked away. She knew he meant every word. Girlfriend of the Month * Sean Cameron like most guys his age found himself in the bathroom more often than not in search of reading material. He had the house to himself for the day, his girlfriend was out with friends and he could pretty much do whatever he wanted on that day. Since his long-time girlfriend Ellie moved in he found it more or less refreshing to see that she subscribed to some magazines but most of the reading material is not anything that is remotely of interest to him. A smiling blonde beauty graced the cover of this month's Girltrash magazine and in his boredom he picked it up reluctantly. He didn't expect that kind of magazine of Ellie to own because of it's preppish style of writing but sometimes he struggles to expect the unexpected.

The Reunion Even though Sean never graduated and was expelled from Degrassi he still managed to get invited to the class reunion for the class of 2007. Sean technically never graduated from the school, but he always considered it his high school despite getting his high school equivalency a short time after his expulsion. He can't believe it's been a little over 10 years since he last has seen some of his long time friends. He spent those years growing as an individual. He achieved most of his personal goals for example he owned his own garage called Cameron's Custom Cars. He was also going stag by choice because he wanted his reemergence to be a surprise to his old friends and best of all he was single. He was briefly seeing a girl but it was mostly casual on his end and his mind was always elsewhere. When Liberty received the email that he was making the reservation she knew she was the only one who knew and while she knew Emma was on student council she made absolutely sure she had no clue he was coming.