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bangtangalicious · 3 years

Text

the glow up | kth (2)

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: smut, fluff, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 2.1k

warnings: carrrrr sexxxx, public sex, dry-ish humping, exhibitionist, horny!reader, praise kink, taehyung calls you princess, softdom!taehyung, slightly awkward, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink for like 2 seconds, light spanking, body image issues, taehyung DRIVING with ONE HAND fffff

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist

The events from Jimin’s party still weighed on you. After Taehyung had left you couldn’t look Jimin in the eye. This is not what you wanted. You just wanted to have fun. You did love Jimin, but Taehyung was right. What Jimin had said…the way he had derogated you all because you willingly had sex with someone you wanted to have sex with...was not okay.

Before you had been to overwhelmed to recall how exactly the whole thing started. But after sleeping on it, you found yourself back in the car, wind flowing through your hair.

“So” You said nervously, “What’s new? Any new girlfriends?”

Taehyung grinned, “Nah. What about you? Any princes for our little princess?”

You licked your lips, looking at how delectable his long neck was, how much you just wanted to wrap your arms around it.

“Ah…no. I actually…I wanna start hooking up with people”

“Oh?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes on the road.

“I’ve had sex before…but it really sucked. I was just worried about crushing him, or if he thought I was…well…I don’t look like a porn star so. I just…wanna enjoy it, you know?”

Taehyung nodded. “Of course, you should enjoy it. Whoever you’re with should make you feel amazing. And stop worrying so much, people don’t care nearly as much as you think they do”

“I guess I just…” You turned to look at the world passing you by, “Don’t know where to start. I don’t know what I like” You had no idea why you were telling Taehyung this. His hand gently massaged the nape of your neck as the other one steadied the steering wheel.

“That’s valid. Just pick a fantasy and start exploring. What do you think about when you masturbate?”

You were grateful at how chill Taehyung was being about having this conversation with you. You realized you really took him for granted at times. He had always been really nice to you, and you really enjoyed his company. You never felt like you had to…try that hard around him. But you knew that was because you didn’t have a shot with someone like Taehyung. Not even now. He was one of the hottest guys from your hometown no question. You assumed he had two or three fuckbuddies in his back pocket at all times.

Taehyung was also openly bisexual. And that made you feel at ease in a way. It was as though because you knew about his sexuality you felt more comfortable to talk about your own.

“Well…” Your face was red, but Taehyung couldn’t see that luckily. “I wanna ride someone’s cock.”

Taehyung bit back a smirk, nodding in understanding. “And?”

“And…I want it to be risky. Like…in a movie theater…or a parking lot…somewhere I could get caught.” You inhaled sharply, thoughts putting you on edge. You rubbed your thighs together feeling the damp squelch of your arousal. You hoped Taehyung hadn’t noticed.

“Ooh. That sounds fun” He glanced your way quickly, noting your blushed state.

“Taehyung” You exhaled, gripping onto the car door tightly, spreading your legs so that the rough wind could ease your yearning a little bit.

“What’s up?”

“I…I…” What the heck were you supposed to say? How did guys initiate things anyway? You couldn’t exactly kiss him while he was driving. “Can I suck your dick?”

Taehyung almost jumped at your query, car jolting slightly before he recovered. He inhaled sharply. “Yeah, um…right now?”

“If that’s okay”

“Yeah…no yeah…um” He glanced down at his lap then back up at the road. “I don’t really know how to do this if I’m being honest y/n.”

“Uh…don’t worry I got it” You reached over to unzip his pants. Taehyung raised himself up just enough for you to tug them down to his knees, giving you access to his cock. It was big. You shivered in anticipation. You stroked him slowly, getting him to harden. You could hear his breathing get shaky. “Does that feel good?”

“fuck y/n of course it does” You couldn’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses but the way his jaw was clenched gave you evidence supporting his words. You look around. There’s a decent number of cars on the highway, but no one directly next to you guys. You decide it’s safe and crouch down into the vehicle, leaning over the console so your tongue could kitten lick his throbbing tip. Your chest pressed against his hand which was clenching the gear shift as you bent over. It was not comfortable.

You licked your lips and covered his tip, sucking slightly as your tongue flicked the opening. Taehyung groaned, pressing his foot down slightly causing the car to speed up.

“Tae”

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t comfortable”

He glanced down at you quickly and smiled, “Doesn’t look it.”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Taehyung coughed. He glanced your way again, lowering his glasses to really look at your expression to see if you were kidding. You weren’t. “Go for it princess”

Careful not to block Taehyung’s line of sight, you somehow crawl into his lap so that you can straddle him. You make direct eye contact with the cars behind, whose driver’s look shocked and confused. This turns you on even more.

“I just want to make sure you know how illegal this is” Taehyung said.

“I don’t care” You exhaled, loving the way his raw cock head was pressed against your clit. You rolled your hips slowly. “Does that feel good Tae?”

Taehyung put one hand on your ass to help steady you and squeezed it affectionately. “Feels so good y/n. Shit. Is this really happening?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the almost childlike excitement in his voice. You began to roll your hips faster, humping him like you were in heat. Arousal shot through your veins. The feeling was addictive, and you didn’t ever want it to stop. You grinded your hips faster and faster, his cock roughly gliding against your barely clothed core, at times pushing the fabric and directly pressing against your soaking folds. You were a moaning mess. You let out streams of curses as you rode him like you couldn’t believe. You tugged his hair roughly, ignoring his whines of pain.

“T…taehyung” You stammered, slowing down. You felt his hand smack your ass making you cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t you dare stop” His tone was gruff, and it sent shivers down your spine. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you cream my cock princess?” He smacked you again. You picked up your pace, feeling the sweet friction guiding you closer to your high. You wished you could have his cock inside you, but you also did not want to get in a car crash.

“Want your cock Tae…” You screamed into the wind, “I wanna feel your cock inside me. So bad. God Tae…baby…fuck…I’m…” You squealed as your orgasm hit you like a truck. Taehyung could feel your wetness soak onto him through your swimsuit.

“That’s right princess…cum for me…you sound so sweet I could listen to you all day” He coos at you, lightly slapping your ass because that’s all he really could do without bringing you both near death. You wrap your arms around him and fall against his body.

“That was amazing” You exhaled.

Taehyung was still painfully hard.

“I’m gonna pull over” He announced. You nodded your head. “and then” He inhaled sharply “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you”

And that’s exactly what he did. He got off the highway at the next exit. You had no idea where you were, but Taehyung found an abandoned parking lot at some hardware store. He parked as far away from the main street as he could. The second the car stopped, he brought his hands to your face and kissed you. Your eyes widened, not expecting that from him.

“Y/n…I…Wow” He chuckled, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. “What did I do to deserve this? This is like, everything I’ve ever wanted”

“Let me help you now” You whispered seductively, grabbing his cock tightly and pushing the fabric aside to allow yourself to sink down onto his cock.

“Holy shit” Taehyung groaned, gripping your hips tightly as you bottomed out. His hands moved to latch under your knees and he lifted you effortlessly, cock buried in your cunt, out of the car, laying you back down on the head of the white convertible. His strength, the ease with which he could just manhandle you, it drove you crazy. You had never felt this good in your life. Taehyung practically tore your clothes off, not caring that they landed on the ground. He grunted as he rolled his hips, thrusting up into you at a perfect angle. “You’re so tight…so fucking tight princess. How have I waited this long for this…” He steadily piston his cock in and out of you.

“You love this don’t you?” He teased, “Spread out naked all for me. Anyone can come see how much you need my big cock”

“I love your cock Tae. I love it” You whined in agreement, wrapping your legs around him.

“Yeah I bet” He said gruffly “You’re so perfect for me princess, all wet…dripping all for me. You want daddy to cum inside you?”

You nodded dumbly, like you no longer could form words. Your brain had completely shut off, and all you could feel was sheer bliss from Taehyung thrusting into you perfectly.

“My perfect little princess. So good to me…so sweet riding daddy’s cock like that…mmm” He kissed your lips, then traveling down to your jaw, nipping at you harshly, then down to your tits, kissing every inch he possibly could.

“I can’t believe how good you feel” He groaned, “This is even better than in my dreams”

You took off his sunglasses so you could see his fucked out eyes. His pupils were completely dilated, and you could see the rampant pleasure on his gorgeous face. Sweat coated the roots of his pink hair. He clenched his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy drank him up.

“Where can I cum y/n?”

You didn’t even hear him. You were too caught up in the amazing feeling.

“Y/n…quick…where can I cum? I can’t last much longer”

“I…I have an IUD…” You managed to mutter. Taehyung exhaled in relief.

“Good fucking girl. Ready for my cum hm? You want me to cum in you princess? Make you mine?”

“Yes…yes oh my GOD yes” Your eyes rolled back as you felt the hot liquid seep inside you. He cried out.

“my god princess, just like that, take my fucking cum” He sucked your tit harshly “I’m gonna fuck you up so good. You’re mine. My princess. My sweet sweet princess”

After he finished he quickly slipped out of you, then went to his trunk to grab a towel. You groaned at his absence, but he was back instantly wiping you up as you flinched with oversensitivity.

He took off his button down shirt and wrapped it around you as he picked up your clothes from the ground. You smiled at how tenderly he cared for you. He grabbed some water and handed it to you, taking another bottle for himself.

“Drink up” He tapped the bottle against yours and gulped the whole thing down. You watched the way his throat moved, feeling yourself heat up yet again. He put the bottles back in the car, then helped you into the back seat. He let you lay down comfortably, stroking your face as he lowered himself onto you, careful not to crush you beneath him. His smile reached his eyes and it made you feel elated. He left a soft kiss on your forehead. “I missed you so much y/n” Then another on your nose. “You have no idea” Another on each cheek, “how happy I am right now” another next to your mouth “because you’re back home”. Another at your jaw, pecking all over your face in the most loving way he could. “You’re so beautiful y/n…” He inhaled you deeply “fuck…am I dreaming?”

“No” You giggled.

He sighed, a goofy smile returning to his blissed out face. “Mmm we better get going…” He kissed you once more, lingering as long as he could, before helping you back into the passenger seat. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded. “Yeah…wow…that was”

“Yeah”

You dressed yourself quickly, giving Taehyung his shirt back. He stared at you a while longer, blinking almost as though he were in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. It all happened so fast it seemed unreal. Before you knew it, you two were back on the road, only minutes from arriving at Jimin’s house.

<-----previous next----->

A/N: WOO okay, there it is. dw dw...i promise jimin will get his chance to shine.

#taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyungsmut #bangtan smut #friends to lovers #taehyung x you #bangtansmut #bangtansmutcentral #btssmutcentral #btssmutclub #taehyung imagine #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic

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ktheist · 3 years

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05 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.8k

➙ warnings. mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“i missed you.”

“i know.”

you steal one last glance at seokjin, the smallest of smirk playing on his lips but before it spreads across his face, he’s already burying it in the crook of your neck, biting and suckling on that one spot that gets you clenching your legs together only to be reminded of the man buried to the hilt in between your thighs.

“hey, tae,” you sing the first word, barely managing to get your best friend’s name out without your voice cracking as seokjin starts to move again, tampering with your sanity.

“hey, where you at?” taehyung baritone rings in your left ear where your phone is pressed and seokjin’s exhaled breath drums in the other.

“uh, in class?” your brain shortcircuits - you can barely offer anything tangible than a two worded reply but that probably has something to do with the hand that clasps over your mouth as you feel the moan about to spill off your lips.

“still? i thought you have class till noon and the rest of the day off on thursdays?” the confusion in taehyung’s voice laces around his words - you can almost hear him scratching his head in confusion whilst his brother’s hands rests on the dip of your waist, pulling out and letting a pause lull in between you, that damned smirk gone from seokjin’s face, replaced with a hazed look that couldn’t care less about the little brother who’s on the phone with the woman he’s about to-

“fu-” you whimper against the mouth that crashes against yours, swallowing your moan.

but the kiss was short-lived.

you push away seokjin’s face to force out an awkward laugh, “yeah, so i forgot i had a replacement class.”

“shit, you just knew?” taehyung sounded like he didn’t mind having a whole conversation with you while you were in your fake class.

“i mean,” you breathe out softly when seokjin’s thumb grazes your erected nub, “i think the professor mentioned it some time ago? i don’t know. didn’t care.”

“touche.” the man on the other end replies, you can almost hear him nodding.

“i gotta go, okay?” and with that, you toss your phone to the side.

in hindsight, you should’ve checked if you properly ended the call.

but how can you have a sliver of concern for something else when you’re too rapt in grasping onto the bed sheets as stars dot behind your eyelids. pleasure courses through your veins. back arching, toe curling, heart leaping within your caged chest as moan after moan pours out of your mouth as seokjin takes you higher than any man you’ve had before.

seokjin’s body falls over you a moment later, his strong arms propped on either sides of your head on the bed as he moans. your arms wrap around his body, face buried in the crook of his neck as you tighten yourself around him, goosebumps rising on your skin when his moan turns to a growl as you feel him twitch inside you.

it’s a moment later, once your breathing calms down, do you catch the faint scent of seokjin’s cologne amidst the smell of sweat and sex in the air as seokjin lifts your head with his hand, pushes the pillow away and places your head on his bicep as his free hand wraps around your body. because of your position, you can clearly hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

he should be getting off his high but why is his heart racing like crazy?

you snuggle into him, forehead resting against his chest as your cheeks remain hot - you think you’re gonna catch a fever.

the weeks pass by in a breeze with taehyung adamantly advocating for you, hoseok, jimin and him to hang out at jeongguk’s place. rather than a place, it’s a studio for one so having five grown adults in the same room isn’t exactly the brightest idea.

neither you nor taehyung brought up what happened three weeks ago. whether he heard you have sex with his brother - you rather not find out. but to say that everything went back to normal would be a pathetic lie.

every time silence lapses over you, there’s a stale air of awkwardness that comes with it. as if you have to sift through your brain for a topic or else you’ll die from suffocation because having a hole open up underneath you and swallow you into oblivion is too good of a fantasy.

but little do you know, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

“jinnie, you got so much better at cooking!” a high pitched squeal bursts your eardrums as you watch yoo mina stand too close to your man in her delivery of compliments.

“psssh, this is nothing, wait till you taste my special garlic butter potatoes,” seokjin tries to play it cool but the blush on his cheeks is too apparent even to a blind person.

not to mention, she’s using the nickname you gave him. well, his parents started calling him jinnie first and since you’ve been around for a long time, you end up calling him that too but that’s besides the point.

the point is, you’ve found an annoying little thorn stuck inside your flesh and you want her out.

christmas break rolled around and for the first time, the four of you manage to catch a flight back to your hometown at the same time. usually, seokjin and namjoon would have a day off and spend christmas together in seoul since a day is too short of time to be flying back and forth while you and taehyung go back home.

though this year, your parents decide to make an impromptu visit to your grandparents’ two days before you landed and leave you in the kim’s care like a charity basket on someone’s doorstep on christmas eve.

“yo,” taehyung’s baritone drums in your ears all too suddenly, making you flinch, “can you pass me the-”

as if on cue, an earth shattering crack bounces off the walls for the longest moment as silence settles in the room and nothing except the sound of the tv host energetically announcing something about welcoming guests to the show, fills the air.

“...angel,” taehyung ends his words, blinking at the pieces of porcelain angel scattered across the floor near your feet.

“oh shit, sorry,” you say to no one in particular, heart racing as you drop to your knees, attempting to gather the broken pieces in hopes of- “can you ask mrs. kim if you have hot glue?”

“___, don’t touch the glass with your hands-” you can barely make out taehyung’s instructions even though he’s standing on the ladder right next to you.

“maybe i can piece it b- ah,” you hiss, retracting your hand and holding it against your chest as you watch the spot where it stings starts to seep out bleed.

“let me see that,” a large hand slips under yours gently, as if you’d break under the slightest pressure.

the familiar scent of ocean and fresh air hits your nose as a pair of troubled eyebrows bind together, eyes focused on your bleeding finger, “we need to disinfect it,” seokjin turns to the dark haired girl and middle aged woman standing a few feet away, probably giving you space to breathe and recover from your shock, “sorry mom. mina. can you watch the stove for a bit? and - is the first aid kit still under the sink in the bathroom?”

the pain hasn’t registered, but it’ll be a bitch once it does.

mrs. kim smiles that warm, gentle smile that seokjin often wears. like mother like son, “yes, dear, it’s still there. we hadn’t moved it since you left because no one was getting hurt some of them might’ve expired...”

“come on,” seokjin pushes himself up first but he stops mid action as your anguished voice slips out of your mouth, “ow ow ow, jinnie, it hurts so much, i can’t even stand up.”

“wait, let me-” taehyung starts before his voice gets drowned out by his mother’s order to- “oh tae, since you’re not doing anything, go get the gloves and broom from the storage room and clean this up.”

seokjin shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips as his hands slip under your armpits and hoists you up to your feet like he would a child.

“welp, there goes my chance of being carried like a princess,” you sigh, lips puckering into a pout but you don’t expect him to agree to it so casually-

“okay.”

with a shrug and an all too willing smile, one arm wraps around your shoulder as he bends down to hook his other arm under your knees - only to have you grasp a handful of his sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop him from dipping any lower. like a lesser than smooth criminal scared of getting caught.

“i’d reach up and pluck the stars for you if you asked me to, what makes you think i won’t carry you in my arms if that’s what you want me to do?” his face is dangerously close to you as he whispers before standing back up again.

“what if i asked you to stop talking to someone?” cheeks hot, you murmur to yourself, glancing at mina’s frowning face as you and seokjin walk pass the kitchen counter, him with his face too close and you with your overjoyed heartbeat.

“just kidding!” you grin at the man before skipping a few steps ahead.

“no, please! i don’t wanna die!” you lament, leaning your body over the bathtub and away from the man that’s holding the gauze pad soaked in alcohol over the cut.

instead of sighing, clicking his tongue and calling you dramatic like his brother would, seokjin chuckles, “you know, we haven’t had a conversation since forever. what’s your favorite thing about christmas?”

“you’re just asking to distract me and when i’m distracted, you’ll pour the alcohol over the cut and it’ll hurt like hell,” you pout, eyes boring into his in an attempt to scour for admittance but when he doesn’t let up, you let a grin spread across your face, “i’ll let you do that for a kiss.”

but his inquiry isn’t what you expected, “just a kiss?”

“and a hug,” you nod, opening your arms and offering an innocent smile that barely stays for longer than a second before you feel his arms around your waist, his hand on the back of your head pulling you down to his longing lips.

the kiss lingers a little too long. seokjin pulls away only to breathe out a sigh of relief, as if quenched from the deprivation that almost drove him insane. his hands lock on your back as his face finds home in the crook of your neck. he tends to do that - breathe in the scent of your perfume as if it’s his safe haven.

“i missed you,” his breath is hot against your skin, but nothing could beat the warmth spreading throughout your whole body from just holding him like this.

your heart clenches in your chest. a kiss on top of his head.

“i know.”

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods (if i missed anyone, please comment below. i haven’t got my shit together after coming back eye-)

note. so i wrote this before christmas, hence the holiday theme for this chapter. but stuff happened and i couldn’t post it. hope yall enjoyed!

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin imagines #bts imagines #bts scenario #seokjin scenario #bts smuts #seokjin smuts #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you

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bsnldn · 2 years

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Pilgrimage

By: Kaarina Sorensen-Jarrett, Co-Editor

As a culture so steeped in the media that we consume, it is only natural that there are some places which are especially near and dear to our hearts. So much so that we may deem taking a pilgrimage to be necessary. For me, visiting record/music stores has always been worth making the journey. Amongst many other opportunities, studying in London has provided me with the opportunity to visit a few. The two that I happen to have chosen for today are Reckless Records and The Great Frog.

Raised in Chicago, I was taught to consider Reckless Records as an absolute institution. Located in the heart of Wicker Park, it is situated perfectly between Damen and Chicago along the Blue Line (infamous for being the best place to cry in the city). I would spend hours combing through the CDs and vinyls, familiarising myself with the titles, the feel, the energy. With enough time, I would see which albums were most popular amongst my favourite artists as they never ran out of stock of second hand merchandise. The one artist that I never found, however, was the Arctic Monkeys. Before today, I had never in my life seen so much as AM in a record store. When I walked into the Soho location and the first thing I saw was Favourite Worst Nightmare, the name of an Arctic Monkeys album, posted on the walls. Seeing this, I felt just as safe as in my hometown. After scouring London’s significantly smaller brick and mortar store, I approached the register with The Clash’s London Calling, Jake Bugg’s self-titled, and The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan. In an effort to make conversation, I asked the man at the till which location came first? The lore –as it were– is that the man who founded the Soho shop in 1983 moved to the States some years later. He later founded my beloved establishment in Chicago and simply stayed there. The two stores have a very different feel: In London, I was hit with wafts of incense and greeted with friendly bops over a spotify playlist. In Chicago, there are gumball machines with local art and records of 80s punk blaring overhead and a wall of cheesy rom coms in the far back (where I got my mom her collection of Downton Abbey DVDs), so it feels as though the brand has come quite a far way. It means the world to me that instead of staring at a sticker with the infamous skeleton hand on my chromebook in AP Stats, I finally got to step foot into that seemingly mystical other locale.

My infatuation with The Great Frog, another London-based music store, is quite honestly also Arctic Monkeys affiliated (yes, I intend to visit the Sheffield store as well). They have an alter ego of sorts for their B-sides called ‘The Death Ramps’ in which The Great Fog generated personal signet rings for the group that they used to don on stage quite regularly. After publishing my first article and receiving that paycheck, I walked right to their Lower East Side location in New York and got the brand’s infamous rose ring. Orchard street is in and of itself an experience, one which coincides well with the eccentricity that comprises an eclectic group of individuals who park their motorcycles outside the shop around one in the afternoon every day. It felt quite different to their much larger -albeit still relatively small- store (also in Soho, just the NYC location), where the employees were all twentysomethings wearing mostly black and chatting to one another about how their night out the day before was detrimental to their mental health and complimented my birkenstocks n’ socks combo. The feeling of community was still deeply ingrained, however the Soho store felt much more up and coming than New York, which holds onto the remnants of the music scene that took over in the eighties.

In any case, despite how the store differentiated from my youthful fantasies, it meant a lot to finally be able to visit places I have long since dreamed about (one of my escapist dreams was to work for The Great Fog London and live above the shop and have that be my life). I highly recommend visiting both shops even if you do not have such strong connections, the employees are incredibly kind and educated about their respective crafts.

#submission #nyu #nyulon #travel #music #records #female writers #london

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bidotorg · 3 years

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Musician, Scientist, and Activist. Meet Carlos Castaño.

My name is Carlos Castaño. I was born on April 16th, 1987 in Béjar, a small town near Salamanca (Spain). However, I’ve been living in Madrid for the last 12 years where I work as a Ph.D. scientist researching molecular biology. I love movies, books, nature, and music. I actually play the keyboard and sing in a rock band called Me Quito el Cráneo!

Turns out, I am also bisexual. This took me a lot of time to figure out and the bisexual group of COGAM (an LGBT association from Madrid) was very relevant in this process. Having a safe place where bi people could just be themselves showed me what bisexuality really was and allowed me to embrace my identity and live my life to its fullest. I started my bi activism in this group, which I am currently coordinating with other bi activists.

In time, I joined the bisexual area of FELGTB (Spanish LGBT Federation), which is one of Spain’s main LGBT organisations made of LGBT groups from all over Spain. Here, I was part of the group of bi activists coordinating FELGTB Bisexual Visibility Year in 2016, which increased bi visibility in Spain. This was the first time I came out as bisexual publicly (in national papers or TV news). It was very, very scary, but also, very rewarding in the end. At the moment I am part of the FELGTB main board, a team made of nine LGBT activists from different areas of Spain working to improve the life of LGBT people from Spain and the rest of the world.

How long have you been out and who was the hardest person to tell?

I’ve been out for four years and a half.

The hardest person to tell was probably my mother, even though she and my father had raised me in an open-minded environment. At first, she did not understand what being bisexual was and she accepted me nonetheless. This acceptance increased when, bit by bit, I explained to her about bisexuality, bi-erasure, and so on. This made me so happy.

Who is your bi icon?

My bi icons are the Spanish bi activists that worked before me. They paved the way so my activism and my life would be much easier than it was for them. And of course, the bi activists that are currently working all over Spain to fight biphobia and increase bi visibility.

What is your greatest extravagance or indulgence?

I've got plenty of those but I would say that my greatest extravagance is that sometimes, when I am alone with my husband, we speak to each other using some sort of a made-up cat language (just using “meows”) and, oddly enough, we understand each other! It’s super weird!

As for my indulgence, I use to eat food that I like as a reward for the work that I do, so on Saturdays, after a looong week, I often eat a large dish of pasta with cheese and Lea & Perrins sauce using my mum’s recipe.

What do you like most about yourself?

I can multitask! I am a scientific researcher, a musician, a writer, and an activist. I think that’s cool… and a bit exhausting.

What was your last post on social media?

Two tweets saying how much I loved the movie Ralph Breaks the Internet and how I probably enjoyed it more than the kids that were watching it.

Where would you most like to live?

I love Madrid. I got everything I need in this city… although sometimes I miss the countryside where I grew up… but I can get to my hometown by car in less than three hours and enjoy nature.

Would you like to be famous? If so, for what?

My only ambition is to sleep eight hours a day, which I rarely do, even on weekends! I think being famous would demand less sleeping for me, so no thanks!

What do you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 18?

That studying a lot, getting a degree, a master and even a Ph.D. would not necessarily get me a good job. I would tell myself “stay away from science, lad!!!”.

What are you the most grateful for today?

My family, my friends, and my husband.

If you could change any one thing about the way you were raised, what would it be?

I wouldn’t change that much. I was lucky enough that my parents always told me that I would be loved no matter who I loved. Of course, they never taught me that bisexuality was a thing, but then, they didn’t know!

If you could wake up tomorrow with one new quality or skill, what would you choose?

I would love to have the ability to sleep whenever I wanted, for the exact time that I wanted. That would be awesome.

What’s your fandom?

I love way too many fictional stories or characters that I find inspiring and have contributed to my view of the world. For example, I love Doctor Who because of the witty anti-violence and feminist stories, or the Final Fantasy videogame series as they have some of my favourite stories and characters, especially Yuna from Final Fantasy X.

What trophy or prize do you most covet?

I don’t recall winning any trophies in my life, to be honest! Does a Ph.D. fellowship count as some kind of prize? If so, this definitely the prize I most covet!

What is something you remember fondly that someone who is now a baby will not grow up with or understand from personal experience?

Jokes from Monkey Island or The Simpsons that some younger people than me don’t understand. How can they communicate without using jokes from The Simpsons!?

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Courage, probably.

What stereotype about bi people annoys you the most in your own life?

I just hate the stereotype that says that bi men are actually gay men in denial, or that bi women are just straight women “playing." It is oftentimes used as a joke in a very harmful way because it shames people’s internalized biphobia or/and homophobia. When you think about it, it’s incredibly cruel.

Your house is on fire and all people and animals are already out and safe. You get a chance to run back in safely and save a single possession. What would it be?

Nah, I think that I would enjoy the company of the people and animals that are out and safe! It’s not like I don’t care for my possessions but, my favourite music I can find on Spotify, my favourite books are in my ebook (and could be retrieved if my device broke), most of the video games I own I have already finished so I wouldn’t need to buy them again. After moving a lot from house to house I’ve learned not to accumulate much, or I will suffer the consequences when I have to leave one house and move to the next. And it’s not like I (or most people my age) can afford a house in Madrid so…

Who’s your favorite bi character?

Captain Jack Harkness from Doctor Who and Torchwood.

Given the choice of anyone in the world, living or from history, with whom would you want to sit down and have dinner?

I believe that we often have these fantasies of meeting some celebrity or person from history that we admire. However, I have the theory that these role models are idealized, so it is highly likely that we would be disappointed when finally meeting them. Therefore, I’d rather have dinner with someone I have already met and admire. My answer is definitely my late grandfather and grandmother.

What is the best thing about being bi?

Being bi is like being a double agent. You know that what most people think about dating men or women is wrong. For example, straight men that complain about how difficult is to communicate with the women they date don’t know that this also happens when men date men. Having dated men that see and treat you as an object helped me to understand painfully well everything that my female friends were complaining about all the time. It gives you a great gender perspective and an out-of-the-binary view of the world that I find very rewarding. Of course, being bi does not necessarily make me a better person but I feel that all that I have learned from my bisexuality may help make the world a better place.

*If you are interested in being featured as part of bi.org What Bi Looks Like series, please fill out the form here.

#bi #bisexual #bisexuality #bi pride #bi visibility #what bi looks like #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer

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artyrogue · 3 years

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Blind Date Gaming: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon R

Well today's date was a blast from my past. Remember way back when in yesteryear, before the advent of anime in the west? Probably not? Well hey, let's go back in time to when Sailor Moon was like the only anime being shown on TV. Okay, so yeah, it's really not super-great and all (at least the dub wasn't...), but whatever, it was my jam as a young impressionable lad of...what was I, like 10 or something? I can't remember, but since my old grey brick Game Boy was the cornerstone of my youth, I am a little excited to revisit a merging of two old passions. That's right! We're gonna play some Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon R!

It starts with a cutscene, of course. This IS based off an anime, so we gotta get a fill of some anime girls with their obligatory high school problems! Sadly for me, it's all in Japanese, but I can provide some crappy machine translations to no doubt elucidate the action-packed dialogue!

"Today, every one of them..."

Oh. Guess I shouldn't have just kind of took a random screenshot in the middle of nowhere. Well, uhh...I'll ad-lib. Today, everyone is apparently milling about whatever Sailor Moon's hometown was. Serena was being a git and verbally harassing everyone she found on the street. That kind of accurately described the first phase of gameplay in this game: an 'adventure' where you have to talk to the right person, then talk to someone else, etc. until the game decides that surprise! You found the area's boss! (My apologies to the script writers here for my clear bypassing of their hard work.)

why hello there fellow school girl, let us talk about boys and how hard maths are

I get some bad vibes of two sorts: One, adventure games where you just try things randomly until you click the right thing and the game decides to let you progress; and Two, Mario is Missing. An odd marriage, especially considering the random boring mini-games they sprinkle in here and there, like matching cards, guessing if the next card will be higher or lower than the current card, and of course the staple of youth fun, sliding puzzles.

At least Final Fantasy gave you money for completing these dumb things....

Well, luckily the game isn't just mingling. There's a platforming phase where you use magical powers to jump, shoot foes, and do battle with evildoers from the Sailor Moon universe! Though I really don't recall any of these enemies since I never watched this season of the show, so I can't speak to their accuracy to the source material. The platforming is accurate for girls wearing high heels, though. These jumps're so stiff, you can mount 'em on a ladder and do high dives offa them.

I can only assume these are the Japanese temple versions of Jehovah's witnesses

The bosses are unsurprisingly dull! Pretty much the only cool thing about them is their animations, which are alright and fairly fluid. Combat is summed up as ‘spam the attack button and don't even try to dodge, because who cares?’ You have more health than every boss in the game. Which is a good thing, ‘cos it's not like you can actually move around and dodge anything anyway.

Ahh yes, the handstand of dominance. A most impressive display for an inter-dimensional being bent on destruction!

So after thumb-wrestling a boss, you get kicked back into story mode. It shifts the scout you play as, but who cares, they all blabber to randos on the street. Come on, just let me fight things! This sucks! While the best aspect of the street-roaming phase that gets changed up is the road layout, later platforming levels get a little cute with their traps and enemies. Still, though, it's all stupidly easy and kinda boring. Except that one time Sailor Mercury was dodging spike mace balls in a sea of scaffolding. Dang, I liked that episode of the show!

Why can't they ever have spiky cubes? Why always balls? C'mon devs, get creative!

Also, I feel the need to point out that the background artists definitely got paid more than the foreground artists. There is so little effort put into the foreground, you may as well be playing an old Game Boy g...oh. Right.

Mmyep, this sure looks like release material and not placeholders during development.

The story starts getting kooky near the end, at least from what my illiterate self can tell. Your first foes are some David Bowie wannabes. Next, a cloaked fortune teller pops in to ruin your self esteem and flash their $40 glass orb (as they do). Eventually, you meet the REAL enemy pulling the strings. It's...a planet? I think? A planet with a dirt lip and a mohawk. Sure. That's fine, I don't see anything that could go wrong with that.

"...my life is Wiseman. This is my heart." Yeah no, I don't think you should have put 'Organ Donor' on your driver's license then, buddy

"Moon Crystal Power!" The faces are definitely part of the power summoning rite. I get a similar look from my wife when I take the last ice cream bar from the freezer

The ending was lackluster, really. I mean, don't get me wrong, the character portraits were pretty good, but you don't get many more unique ones in the final cutscene. But hey, at least you can use the existing ones to redo some popular internet memes.

Overall, not really that great. It was pretty disappointing, but I mean, that's kind of spot-on for all of my revisits to fond childhood memories. So what I've learned from this date is that holy moly did I have terrible taste as a kid! While my younger self might have sprung for it, I ain't going on a date with this one again. Nopes all around! But at least I found a baller Sprite of Passage from one of the lame mini games! Have it as a reminder to never revisit your childhood. Keep that past rosy!

do you have burials at sea for sailor scouts?

#blinddategaming #gameboy #sailor moon

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curlybookwriter0294 · 4 years

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My Dragon Roommate

Chapter One: Let the New Life Begin

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Summary: All Lucy wanted was her own life which was why she moved to Magnolia to start at her dream college. What she didn't expect was that she'll have a random roomie who happens to be a freaking dragon! Turns out they exist! Lovely! What a great start at her own life! AU!

Rating: M

Pairing: NaLu(Natsu & Lucy)

Genre: Romance/ Fantasy

Lucy Heartfilia gripped the handle of her blue roller suitcase as she approached the receptionist desk, pulling back a strand of lose blonde hair as she stared at the elderly woman with graying hair typing away on her computer. Her heart ponded tightly in her chest and took the courage to clear her throat which caused the woman to look up at her with a eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you with something, dear?”

Lucy smiled kindly at the woman as she placed a fifty dollar bill on the counter. “One ticket to Magnolia please, ma’am.”

The silver haired receptionist hummed quietly as she checked the money with a special pen to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit before pressing a couple of buttons on the register that was next to her.

Lucy beamed when the receptionist handed her one train ticket to the city of her dreams. “Enjoy your trip, miss!”

Lucy chuckled at her as she placed the ticket inside her front pocket so she wouldn’t lose it. “Not a trip ma’am! I’m moving there!” She yelled as she ran towards the line of trains that were lined up at the railroad tracks.

She smiled widely as she approached her train and gladly handed her ticket to the conductor who had a hand out asking for her ticket and used a puncher to punch a hole in her ticket.

“Thank you,” she said as she stepped onto the train and glanced down at the aisles of seats. She managed to find a perfect spot near the middle next to the window and sat her suitcase next to her with a sigh in relief as she stared out the blurring trees as the train started to move. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Lucy was highly nervous, so nervous about doing this. She wanted to get away for so long but it took a lot of planning and a lot of money that she had managed to hide from her father, Jude, who she believes that he’s pretty angry with her right now but currently she didn’t give a damn or a flying fuck what he was thinking as of this moment.

She just turned eighteen, she basically had her whole life planned by the time she was five years old. She was going to go to college for English and creating writing, be a famous author that has ever lived, get married to the most handsomest guy ever and lived happily ever after!

She wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if she had lived in that house any second longer, so she was very glad to be finally eighteen and couldn’t wait to start her life at Magnolia, home of Magnolia University, known for their best writing program of Fiore! She was so happy when she got her letter after working her ass off on her entrance essay.

However, before she can officially move there, she had to find an affordable apartment within her budget and she was glad to see she had found one from an ad online from Craigslist about a two bedroom and one bathroom apartment for $800 a month. She wasn’t sure why she decided on a two bedroom, but it was the cheapest one in all of Magnolia and the University was about a twenty minute walk which was perfect in her eyes!

Lucy rolled her eyes in annoyance when her phone started to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out without even glancing at it and ended the call and blocked the number, already knowing who it was and placed it back into her pocket without a second thought and leaned against the window with a smile on her face. “Let the new life begin.” She whispered.

Natsu Dragneel groaned in pain when he stepped inside the airport after getting off from his plane. He grab hold of his stomach and leaned against the nearby wall, praying to Mavis that it would stop hurting. Damnit, he hated having motion sickness. “Damn it all to hell.” He muttered, trying his best not to throw up his lunch that he had on the plane, highly regretted eating while on the flight but he was so hungry and couldn’t wait any longer.

If there was a way to get to Fiore from America without getting onto any type of vehicle or aircraft he would’ve done it. However, there wasn’t which was why he had to get on a freaking thirteen hour flight instead. It was pure torture to him.

He sighed in relief when his stomach finally settled down after a few minutes. He walked outside through the sliding doors of the airport and glanced up at the bright blue sky and then looked around at the hustle and bustle of Magnolia, his hometown. He sighed and grabbed the strap of his backpack tightly, his nose perking up at the familiar smells of his hometown, a place he hasn’t been since he was ten because his foster father Igneel moved them out to America for a better life for themselves.

Natsu sighed heavily as he began walking down the streets of Magnolia, his mind thinking about his foster father.

Igneel was working at odd jobs at the time, as well as raising a fiery breathing dragon whom he found wondering the streets alone one night with no where to go. He raised Natsu like he was his own even though he had never had a kid before. He taught Natsu everything he knew about being a dragon and as well on how to control his fire. Natsu was grateful that he shared the same element as him and was happy that he was a dragon too! He was highly thankful at everything he had taught him. Natsu always thought it was going to be just the two of them, like Batman and Robin!

However that all changed after a few months at being in America, Igneel met a lovely and spunky Grandeeney. Natsu was upset about it for a while because he assumed it would always just be the two of them. Turns out, after getting to know Grandeeney and learning that she was a dragon as well, he accepted her fully as well as her adoptive daughter Wendy Marvell who she had adopted a few months before she had met Igneel.

The four of them lived a blissed life. Until, a year ago, a car accident took Igneel’s life. Natsu balled up his fist by his side as he thought about it, chewing on his lower lip with his canine tooth until it started to bleed.

He used a hand to wipe a small drip of blood from his mouth and hoisted his backpack higher onto his shoulder as he continued walking down the street, his stomach growling for more food. “Fuck.” He muttered as he checked the time on his phone and smirked at himself. “I still got time.”

He hummed as his nose perked up at the smell of food near by and let it guide him to a burger joint that was located around the corner and sat down the first booth he had spotted as soon as he walked in.

He checked his phone for the millionth time to double check to make sure he has time to eat before his meeting with the landlord about his leasing contract on the apartment he had found through an online ad on Craigslist before arriving here. He wasn’t sure why the hell he needed a two bedroom one bathroom apartment but it was cheap and close by to the Magnolia University a school that Igneel wanted him to go to ever since his high school days and made sure that he had studied his ass off everyday.

Igneel wanted Natsu to make a name for himself, he wanted him to go college, get a good paying job, something he himself couldn’t do and he made sure to stay on Natsu’s ass each time he would slip up with the fights that would get into with other people who spoke ill about dragons.

“Can I take your order?”

Natsu looked up at the raven haired waitress who was standing across from him with a bright smile on her face, pen and notepad in each hand as she waited for him to place his order.

Natsu ran a hand through his pink spiky hair, not even bothering looking at the menu that was in front of him. “Get me four burgers, four fries and two shakes. Thanks.”

The waitress paused at her writing, confused. She cleared her throat. “Is there someone coming soon with you?”

Natsu rolled his eyes at her with a scoff. “No, I have high metabolism. My stomach can handle this.”

The waitress nodded as she resumed writing down his order. “Give us about forty minutes for your food, okay?”

Natsu nodded in response as he watched the waitress walk away.

Forty minutes later, his nose twitch as the smell of his food came towards him. As soon as the waitress sat it down in front of him, he dug in, not even taking a breath or taking a break because he was soon hungry from that thirteen hour flight.

He burped loudly after finishing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he pushed the plate away, smirking. He’s back in Magnolia, his hometown that he hasn’t seen in years, he wonders what his childhood friends were up to, he wonders if anything had changed. So far, everything to him looks the same. He couldn’t wait for his new beginning. In fact, he’s all fired up just thinking about it. “Let the new life begin.”

A/N: I had this idea for a long while and now it’s time to write it out! I have so many ideas for this story it’s unreal! I hope you guys will like it!

This is just a sneak pick of my story! I’m going to post more of this on FF.net so be sure to follow my account CurlyBookWriter94 and leave a review! :)

Hope you guys are staying safe out there with anything going on :)

#fairy tail nalu #nalu fanfiction #nalu fanfic #ft fanfiction

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writeforyoon · 4 years

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through the mirror | part one

Title: Through the Mirror

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Slightly Sci-fi-ish

Pairing: Yoongi & Freya (Original Character)

Tags: Fluff, Slightly Angst, Magical

Summary: A young woman in her early 20’s rents out an old apartment unit left by an old woman who passed away a year ago. She finds a strange mirror plastered on the wall that brings something out of the ordinary.

PART I | he came like a nightmare, like a dream

It’s Wednesday and the sky is gloomy. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, giving off a grayish, colder than normal atmosphere. Cool breeze make the twigs sway, autumn leaves filling up every path. For Freya, it’s a good day. Though the nimbostratus clouds may bring heavy rain this afternoon, it still left a smile on the young woman’s face. After all, it’s her first official day of becoming a strong independent woman. The twenty-three year old had fought for her independency since she turned eighteen against a strict, overprotective family. It’s only when she received a job offer far away from her hometown that her mother had finally let her loose— well, kinda. There’s still the announced and unannounced visitations that her mother will do from time to time. It’s a deal she agreed to. Her friends saw it as “too much” but she saw it as unconditional love. “You know how to compromise.” One of her friends remarked when she gave them the news.

Nonetheless, she’s now standing by the apartment building— seconds away from sealing it off. Her independence.

“Bring it to third floor, last room to the left.” The man who owns the building tells the men Freya hired to help her move her things. His attention then focuses on her. He tells her to follow him as he will give her a short tour around the unit.

Before they enter the apartment, the owner gives Freya the spare key and the updated code for the automated lock. “You can change it once everything’s settled.” He tells her before pushing the door open.

It is when they’re inside that she finally let herself loose and smile so wide. Her heart is literally leaping from happiness right now.

She drops the bag she’s carrying to take in the familiar yet new surrounding. Freya had only seen the apartment in pictures on a Facebook post. It was sent to her by her college friend who she informed that she’s looking for an apartment near her workplace. Due to the rush transfer requested by the company she’s working for, she didn’t have time to check it out in person. Her worries of living in an unsafe and uncomfortable place washed away once she finds how neat and pretty it actually is than the pictures she saw on the Internet.

“This has to be the only presentable unit that has been used for years.” The owner remarked. “It’s all thanks to the previous tenant who always cleaned the place once a week. It’s either she was a germaphobe or someone who just loved to clean— but I’m thankful. It’s the only unit Joe didn’t have to enter to clean. It helped the old guy somehow.” Freya didn’t know who Joe was but she thinks it’s the janitor who’s assigned to clean the units of the building. The owner’s kind of talkative and as Freya listened to the guy talk, she let herself wander around the place.

The color of the wall resembles the yellow sunflower dress she used to love when she was eighteen. The outer walls are made up of plywood stacked together painted in bright yellow but the inner walls are cemented. The floor is tiled. The lines that separates the tiles are not covered with mold— it’s surprisingly bright pink. The unit has two windows. One above the sink and the other is inside the bedroom, right beside the bed. The two windows are enough to bring the needed sunlight in the apartment. Freya unhooks the window by the bed and slides it up to allow some some fresh air to get inside.

Freya steps back to find a small bookshelf near the bed enough for all the books she had brought with her. It makes her smile just from the thought of it. She takes a couple of steps further, her heels turn around then a high pitched shriek leaves her mouth when she finds a face with a funny expression looking back at her: big eyes and mouth wide open, mirroring hers.

“Oh my God!” Freya clutches her chest, ears red and cheeks flushed. She calms herself down once she realizes it was just her stupid reflection. Before her is a mirror attached to the wall right in front of the bed. The mirror is blurry, it has stains that she couldn’t tell coming from where or what. It is big enough to take in her face and her torso.

“This doesn’t go with the room.” She mutters before reaching her hands forward with an attempt to pull out the mirror from the wall.

“It’s stuck?” Her hands pull harder, clutching her small hands on the wood covered sides of the mirror.

“Miss don’t!” The owner shows up out of nowhere and grabbed her arm away from the mirror. It terrified Freya for a second. The man notices her expression and retreats his hand right away.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes casts down, regret evident. “It’s just that the previous tenant requested not to remove the mirror at all.”

“It’s ugly and already foggy. It’s hard to even call it a mirror. What is there to keep?” She replies with knitted eyebrows. She didn’t want to sound disrespectful but she just couldn’t keep it to herself. There is no way that it makes sense at all. The unit is now hers. Why would she allow something that was of the previous tenant to stay in the unit she already own?

“It was her last wish.”

“Sorry?”

“The previous tenant died of old age and the only wish she had is to keep the mirror in the unit.”

The news broke her but at the same time it worried her. Freya couldn’t keep her mind off of the mirror hanging right in front of her bed. It felt odd to have something from a person who passed away, especially when she barely knows the person.

Everything’s settled now. All her things are inside the unit and the owner has already left with the reminder that she keeps the mirror. It bugs her so much that every time she passes by it, she keeps her eyes away from it.

It seriously creeps the hell out of Freya. The mirror bothers her so much that the first night she spends in her unit, she couldn’t sleep well. She tosses and turns, she grunts and gasps unable to keep her occupied mind to rest.

It’s still Wednesday night and it’s raining cats and dogs. If it doesn’t creep her out even more, thunder and lightning flashes through the open window. The harsh wind is entering through it, making Freya’s exposed shoulders shiver. She hurried to go under the covers a while ago and forgot to close the window. Freya decided to keep it that way. That to let the cold in and just sleep it off. Now rain started to enter as well, making her blanket damp and her shoulders literally shake. She know she have to go and close the window herself.

Her feet comes out first before the rest of her body follows. Her eyes are half shut, eyelids fluttering as she stretches her hands out reaching for the window. She drags the edge of it down and hooks it fast, locking it.

That was actually easy. She thought to herself. But she crosses that thought out once a lightning slams against a nearby tree. She yelps in shock, pushing her index fingers inside her ears, then turning around to ready for the loud boom of the thunder. It comes after 6 seconds, Freya had counted. Her eyes squeezes together throughout the whole sound, shaking up the glass window as it went. It’s scarily close!

Her back is flat against the wall beside the window. Eyes are open now while her palm is against her chest, calming her fastened heartbeats. This unconsciously led her eyes towards the mirror. She doesn’t notice this until another lightning flashes. The light hitting the mirror reflects against her face. It shined so bright it made her eyes squint for a second, but through this she finds something. Her curiosity led her right in front of the mirror. Freya reaches her open hand towards the bottom of the foggy mirror. There’s something written on it but it’s blurry. She takes a piece of cloth, the scarf she used a while ago, and presses it against the mirror. She vehemently wipes the stains and dust away from the bottom part of the mirror, uncovering a series of letters. The scarf falls from her grip, her feet moves back, trying to see the words better as they slowly form into words then sentences in her brain.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Show me the truth behind it all.

The other side, another world

Let my eyes see through the mirror.”

“What?” A deep chuckle escapes her chest. “Was the previous owner the Wicked Queen?” She tries to humor it.

Thunder rocks the sky again, making the mirror shake. Freya apologizes quickly for the stupid joke she made about the late tenant. She’s quite superstitious.

• • •

The twenty-three year old smashes her head with a pillow, groaning from the noise. Rock music is playing. It disrupts her peaceful sleep. Is this how thin the walls really are? The music seemed like it’s coming from her room. Her alarm doesn’t even sound like this. This is not an alarm, this is ear mutilation.

“Ya!” Freya cries, pushing her legs up in frustration. She finally sits up, ruffling her hair, whining. Thoughts of moving to another apartment crosses her mind. Everything wrong is here. Thin walls and a creepy antique mirror. It’s literally made out of a tenant’s nightmare!

She opens her eyes, finally, ready to demolish whoever is playing the noise (Freya don’t call rock genre as music). But she closes it again, smiling sheepishly. “I must be dreaming.” A forced grin follows then a laugh.

The terrified woman pushes herself back to the bed, covering herself with the duvet. Repeating the words that somehow brings comfort to the seemingly Halloween special episode of a morning, “I must be dreaming.” She keeps doing this until the rock music stopped. When it does, she pushes the duvet away from her then lifts her head to take a peek back to the mirror.

Her eyebrows furrow together as she tries to make out of the view on the mirror. It doesn’t look like a mirror now but more like an illusion. She’s looking into another room— another bed opposite of hers.

“What the f—“ she stops midway after she finds a man walking towards his bed with dark wet hair. His hair is so wet that the water dips from the strands. Some of the water droplets end up on his toned chest. Some lands on his pelvic area, just below his abs. The guy is pale and the lower part of his body is covered by a white towel. His wet hair is covering his line of sight and he seemed like he’s looking for something. Freya on the other hand— on the other side, has her saliva stuck in her throat. She didn’t move an inch. Her eyes are wide as an owl as she studies the man walking around his own room. He searches under the sheets (his bed and pillow covers are all in black), then on the cabinet right next to the bed. Freya clutches the ends of her duvet, her heart is thumping fast, as the man is walking closer to the mirror.

Is he going to pass through the mirror? That thought enters her now lagging brain.

“Where is it?” His voice is deep and groggy. It made Freya gulp. He is now rummaging under the mirror, looking for something. Freya quite understood that there must be a table under his mirror where he is searching. She could hear keys being pulled aside and plastic bottles falling over. A sigh then escapes the pale pink lips of the guy, his shoulder slouches. It looks like he had given up looking for it, whatever it is. Without any word, he pushes his hair up and stares right into the mirror, staring right into the eyes of a horrified Freya.

Freya didn’t break yet, because she’s still battling whether the guy could see her or not. There’s a silent, deafening pause that runs for a straight twenty seconds. The two did not blink at all during that time. Freya studied his face, looking for a sense of recognition. And she sees it, the slight quirk of the eyebrows. That is when she screams, loud. Her eyes are still on the guy and when she found him moving back from the mirror and running away from sight with his hands against his ears, she screamed even louder.

It got to a point where she strained her voice already that she decided to stop. The guy is no longer in sight but the room is still there. The mirror is no longer doing its sole purpose— instead it’s now a window to another person’s room. Freya slowly sits up, holding the duvet over her clothed torso. It’s as if she was the one found out topless and in a towel. She carefully put her feet down and stands up, eyes not leaving the mirror.

A slam of the door makes her jump a little, and it’s not her door. The guy shows up on the mirror again, now fully clothed. His hair is already brushed properly but still damp.

“Are you the new tenant?” His droopy, cold eyes follow her to the side of the window where she stood the night before, back flat against the wall. He does not seem so surprise of all this.

“Y-yeah.” Freya answers, stammering.

“How many days since?” The guy continued to probe as if the unit itself is his.

“Since yesterday?” Her mind is running with so many questions that even her answers sounds like one.

“And you read it already?” It didn’t sound like a question but more like a comment. A smirk forms over his lips after he says that. He opens his mouth again to say something but a call interrupts him. The guy follows the sound and finds the phone under the pillow. “There you are.” He mutters lowly.

Freya watches him intently as he goes on with his call. During this time, she studies him. She notices his slouchy posture and his unoccupied slender fingers casually making its way to the back of his ear, scratching that part. It seems like a habit, as he does it from time to time. She couldn’t get over how pale his complexion is for a man. He’s wearing a black shirt and black square pants casually, it makes his skin tone stand out more. Two rings cover his right middle and ring finger. Aside from playing with his ear, he also hiss from time to time when he is in thought. He doesn’t smile much too. He looks cold and reserved.

Freya slaps herself from almost believing that it is all real. She could never imagine something like this to be true in real life. It’s a childish dream.

Freya stuck to this idea and dropped the duvet. She approaches the mirror to face the nightmare— and hopefully wake up from it. When the guy finally ends the call with whoever he was talking with, he turns his face back to the mirror only to be surprised by the sudden close proximity he has with the new tenant.

“Woah,” he says in monotone. He steps back from the mirror, slightly caught off guard.

“I know this is a nightmare.” Freya purses her lip and stares back into the guy. He has now flopped back unto the mattress of his bed. There’s a hint of perfunctory in his demeanor. Uninterested and undisturbed, the complete opposite of what Freya is going through right now.

“Hey!” She pounds against the mirror, begging for his attention, begging for an answer, some kind of confirmation that this is just a nightmare. It’s when she notices the still existence of the mirror. Her hands does not pass through. She realizes it’s a barrier and not a complete portal.

The guy sits up finally, sighing loudly. Freya couldn’t tell if she really earned his interest or he’s just worried she might break the mirror.

“Where’s Tammy?” He asks, eyes cast down, dejected.

“T-tammy?” Who? Freya is already very confused and now he’s asking about someone who she doesn’t even know.

“The previous tenant, before you. The person who owns the mirror.” His voice break, and it breaks her heart too. She just realized that the man is looking for the old woman who stayed in the unit before her, and it seemed like doesn’t know that she had passed away already. Freya is put into a position she doesn’t know what to do or what the right thing to say.

“I know you know what happened to her.” He pushes, putting Freya in a corner.

“Sh-she passed …” Freya confesses. There’s no really point in lying. It seemed like the guy really cares enough to know— in fact he cares more than she thought because once he heard the words come out of her mouth, he stood and took a piece of a black clothing then covered the mirror with it. He shut her away and Freya never woke up from that dream— because in the very first place, it was never a dream.

#yoongi #bts yoongi #min yoongi fic #min yoongi #bts fanfic #yoongixoc

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journal-of-an-outlaw · 5 years

Text

The Price to be Paid

Hey gang!

This is my very first Tumblr fanfiction. I used to write waaaay back but it’s been awhile. Just finished my first playthrough of Red Dead Redemption 2 and of course needed to write something about my story with it.

Feel free to message me with feedback or thoughts, like I said it’s been a few years so I’ll post this to Ao3 after awhile. Please like and reblog only, no reposting.

Chapter 1

“See that one? Easy. Go nick his watch.”

You laughed and smiled over your shoulder at Abigail as you walked over towards the cart that had stopped from one of the nearby farms selling apples in the middle of town, red and bursting to be eaten. A man who was picking out which ones looked best out of the pile didn’t seem flustered by your sudden appearance which was good. It made the next part easier.

“Oof! Excuse me sir, I didn’t see you there. Are you okay? Oh, let me help wipe that off your shirt.”

Coffee bled a dark brown down the man’s white shirt as he hastily moved to grab something to stop the spread, and you were ready with your handkerchief. While he snatched it out of your hands, you removed his pocket watch without him knowing, the pressure of your hands on his torso masking the motion. The cold coffee had been sitting on the edge of the cart as if someone had forgotten it in their haste to leave for the center of town. He huffed and hawed and made a bigger fuss than you could have hoped for, but the nearby prying eyes only saw a silly girl who managed to spill coffee onto the boy buying apples.

You smiled one last time at him and batted your eyes then flounced down the street and around the alley to meet Abigail. She laughed and grabbed your shoulder while you showed her the watch; no engraving or photo slipped inside which made you relax at the fact it wasn’t overly sentimental.

“Now see, this here is exactly what you can pawn off. A good 8 dollars for this, plus whatever else you can grab adds up fast. Then maybe...a way out?” her eyes were kind as her mouth twisted into a coy smile.

You smiled back at Abigail. The past few months while she and her gang were in town you had grown close. She hadn’t divulged too much about the people she ran with and that you could understand. The world was dangerous and full of opportunities and you couldn’t judge her for the choices she had made to keep her and those she cared about safe. You had never really left the town you were raised in and your family was your ‘gang’, but their secrets would never haunt others that you choose to surround yourself with. You knew she had a man, maybe not a husband but someone she loved. And a son that she loved more than anything in the world. Although she’s never told you outright about him, you’ve seen her buy (or steal) little trinkets and toys that no grown man would want. That’s when Abigail taught you the same tricks. How to divert the attention of shop owners so your hands could dart into your pockets with stolen food, or how to nab items to pawn to build up your own funds when you bump into folks and cause a scene. You had been eyeing the mountains outside of town a lot more lately, and thinking how great of an escape you could make.

“Where would I even pawn these? Do I walk in with everything at once?” you asked her. She contemplated for a moment. “You don’t want to walk in with arm loads of stolen things, but a few here and there should be okay...maybe clerks will let you trade them for goods! Like for food or clothes and such. There’s a good pawn shop in Rhodes, but that’s a long ways from here in Blackwater.”

Your hometown, or at least the place you had been raised in, was hot, dry, and desert like most of the year. The people were kind and you liked being situated by the river. On particularly hot nights you would sneak out and sit by the slow and lazy moving water, imagining it was carrying you someplace new and far away, where no one would know you and you could start over. But you knew that idea was just that and there was no escaping. Small fantasies were all you had. Some nights you yearned for your life that began in Boston, but Blackwater was the only home you had ever known.

Abigail brought you back to the present with her hand on your arm. “Y/N, I might have to leave soon. I don’t want to but there are things I can’t change that are set in motion by the people I’m with. You’re...well I guess my friend and I wanted to let you know.” You laughed at her hesitation to call you a friend. Knowing her it isn’t an insult. If anything, she means it as a way to say she doesn’t get close to many people and has somehow chosen you.

“Abigail I appreciate you telling me, but I’ll see you again! I am not worried.” Sometimes your blind optimism got the better of you. Damn those novels that you got lost in. Few things brought you pleasure like the chapters of a book.

The two of you clasped hands and parted for the day as the sun set behind you. Slowly but surely you were building a collection of items that had been lifted off the residents of Blackwater and were going towards your future pawn trips. As much as you loved the town and its dusty, dirty humbleness there was a darkness that lived there.

You neared your house and felt your heart drop to your stomach as the parlor light flickered on meaning your mother was not home, but your father was. Dad had a mean drinking problem, and as the man in charge of some government organization had power which mixed terribly with his vanity. He wanted everyone to know that he and he alone was in charge.

Climbing up the steps quietly you hoped to sneak by. That damn fourth step gave you away, and you silently swore as your father barked for you to come back down.

“Y/N! Get down here. How dare you walk by and not say hello to your father?” You mumble an apology and kissed him on the cheek, the smugness in him as strong as the whiskey on his breath. As you turned to head to the kitchen for dinner he grabbed your elbow hard enough to make you wince. “Were you in town today,” he asked, but it was more of a statement than a question. He must have seen you, or heard about Abigail somehow. “Y-yes father, I spent the day in town. At the market, there was a wagon from a nearby farm…” you drifted off and tried to walk to the other room. Your father stood abruptly, but was distracted by your mother opening the kitchen door. She was a force of pure good and the only thing that could tame your father’s wild ways. Her face beamed and invited you both for dinner.

“How was town today, Y/N? The apples look delicious.” You mother winked at you and motioned to the three red apples sitting on the counter waiting to be baked into a pie for dessert. While in town you didn’t even notice her so she must have moved quietly. The roast chicken and potatoes were delicious and you couldn't eat fast enough. After dinner, your father went out to the back porch to smoke while your mother sat and played cards with you.

“Mother, why don’t we just leave?” you whispered. This was a conversation you had had many times in the past. “If we packed and left at midnight he couldn’t track us. We could go to the mountains, move west or even north again! A new city with no one following us and we could make a new life. Work in an art gallery or a farm or...just some place nice and safe. Where no one could hurt us.” The darting of your eyes was not missed by your mother who had never known about your father and how his rage manifested late at night. He always did have a knack for hitting you in places that no one else would ever see.

Her hand was soft as it wrapped around your own. You knew this fantasy would never happen but you always hoped someday she would finally agree.

“My dear, we musnt run away from those things that we fear. Fear only increases when we turn our backs to escape rather than face it head on.”

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

The next day in town you met up with Abigail again. You knew the time was coming for her to leave from the way she clung to you a little tighter and laughed more forced and often. It made you sad to think that this bright light in your life lately would just be gone due to...whatever it was that would drag her away. Loyalty and family all meant something to you of course. But it was still upsetting to think that this exciting time would soon be over.

“The last thing I’ll teach you as a thief is this. In order to pull off a good heist, you have to believe. With everything you have. A poor orphan left to die on the side of the road? Believe. Someone who just got robbed and needs a ride to town? Believe. Someone who isn’t being abused by a man somewhere in town? Believe.”

She stared you down hard during this last line. You flinched and moved to cover the bruise that had been exposed when you rolled your sleeves up from the heat. A soft expression met you when you looked up to her blue eyes.

“I...It’s nothing I promise.”

“And that, hon, is exactly what I was talking about. You have to believe. Make it out of this town, safe. Please. If not for me, maybe just for you.” You watery eyes meet hers and you realized that it’s obvious to everyone but you that leaving may just be your last hope to being happy. The only issue you have is leaving your mother behind with the monster that hides behind the eyes of your father. His rage wasn’t always there. Mother said as a child you lived happily in Boston just the three of you. It was supposed to be four, and that’s where the trouble began. When your brother was lost a few days after his birth your father couldn't stand it. The whiskey was his crutch, and it soon became more of a constant burden. Every day it seemed he stumbled in from work already drowning in the vile stuff. Even the thought of its scent brought you gagging now. Your mother says that’s the reason you had to leave the northern city and move to the nowhere town of Blackwater and start all over again. That drink and the havoc it caused.

While you had the time the two of you decided to celebrate. Sitting in the saloon you clinked your drinks and cheersed to seeing each other soon someday. Abigail loved hometown whiskey and your poison of choice was gin. Many drinks later and the two of you stumbled out to the main road, needing fresh air after leading the whole bar in a great rendition of a popular song. You swayed in the heat that met you outside of the doors. A huge commotion down by the water caused half the town out to come bursting out to the roads behind you. Galloping horses, screaming, and gunshots were all you could make out. Damn those drinks and whatever was in them! You couldn't see more than four feet in front of you, and everything beyond that was a big old blur.

“Y/N! We need to move. Now!” Abigail somehow sobered up and was in charge of the whole situation. “Get behind that building and pretend you don’t know me-” but her words were cut short by a man grabbing her arm and yanking her down the road.

“Abigail!! Hey! Let her go!” You chased, well, more like stumbled after, the pair and beat his arm with your fists. He released Abigail and grabbed your hands, shoving them down by your sides and forcing you to stare into his eyes.

“Now what in the hell are you doing?” You stare dumbstruck into his face thinking that you might have landed yourself right into one of your novels. Beautiful blue eyes searched your drunken face and you couldn’t even speak. His eyebrows pulled together and crows feet showed around the edges of his eyes, years of the open sun and road changing the landscape of his face. Stringing coherent thoughts together was a struggle when Abigail shoved the man. “Arthur! Let her go she’s my...she’s my friend.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, “Abigail I have to get you back to John-”

Three men raced around the street corner on horseback and shouted in your direction. “Those three! Stop them! They’re linked with them gangs from the riverboat!”

You swung around to face Arthur and Abigail. “What have you done. Your gang! What did you do!”

Arthur swore and grabbed you by your waist. “Abigail, get on that grey horse there. The bay is mine.” She nodded and took off down the road. You cursed and swung as hard as you could but it was no use, this man had you captive as he put you on the horse and followed Abigail. The lawmen were not too far behind and you heard the bullets they fired whisk by you and hit the buildings down the street. From the back of a horse you watched the faces of people you knew zip by faster and faster, and with them the memory of who you were confined to be quickly slipped away. What a strange turn of events in the past few months. Abigail had taught you how to pickpocket and thief your way hopefully to a new life, but instead of taking that route here one was riding you off on a horse. It scared you, but you couldn't look back.

A sharp and terrible pain grabbed you suddenly as a bullet met your left side below your ribs. Screaming, you almost fell off the horse but managed to clutch onto Arthur’s shirt with weak fingers. He turned around at the noise and seemed upset as his face filled with worry when looking at the blood spilling onto your shirt. The pain proved too much and the last thing you remember was landing on a hill of grass with dust swirling all around as the sound of pounding hooves raging your ears from all directions.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #fanfic #arthur morgan #abigail roberts #john marston #reader story #reader fanfic #the price to be paid #i don't know how to name anything #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x reader #female reader

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changarroo · 5 years

Text

Hello Again // Bang Chan AU

❖ a/n: So this is a collab with the one and only @bhubblemilk cause we are bubble tea soulmates,,, and I’m high key in love with her writing (the Minho one to be exact but I’m just a sucker for Minho). So when Eiko told me about this idea I fell in love and was 100% down to do it. SO here is part 1 of our collab! keep your eye out for part 2 on her account ;)

❖ word count: 3.1k

❖ genre: fluffy, vampire au

❖ pairing: reader x bang chan

Good morning every one of Seoul, if you are just waking up right now the time is currently 7:14 and it looks like it’s going to be a rainy day” the radio clock said as it turned on for the morning.

You rolled around in your full-size bed, trying to fall back asleep, but it was no use. The sound of the rain falling on your window brought calmness but it wasn’t enough to get you to fall back asleep.

Sitting up and leaning on your headboard you extended your arms up above your head as a yawn left your mouth. You tossed your blanket to the other side, setting your feet into your simple cream-colored bunny slipper before you officially left your bed.

As the clean freak that you were, you went ahead and made your bed, making sure it looked presentable just in case you have unexpecting visitor which was rare but wasn’t too rare.

The sound of your kettle went off knowing that your water was ready for your morning cup of tea. Once you finished pouring it into your mug you headed over towards one of the giant windows that overlook the city of Seoul.

You had to admit this was your favorite spot in the world and with this weather you were in love. So there you were sitting near the window ledge in an oversize shirt and pajama shorts looking at the world just reflecting on what life had the offer.

On the other side of town in an apartment was a blonde male who looked to be the age of twenty-one. Sitting in front of the window with a journal in his lap.

Sighing at the weather he just looked down and opened the journal, memories started to come back to him as if the event that was laid out in this book were from yesterday.

“Channie hyung are you looking at the book again?” a young male with apple red hair asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“I just miss her Jeongin, it’s been like what a whole year since I last saw her? And what sucks the most is that I’m back at square one where she doesn’t know who I am,” the blonde haired boy said trying to hold back his tears.

“I know you miss them hyung but you will meet her again soon I know you will,”.

“I’m going to go on a walk Jeongin,” Chan stood up from the chair and walked over the closet by the door. He pulled off his black boots and hoodie, grabbed his keys and left the apartment.

The cold wind on his face felt calming but also made him feel lonelier. He put his hood over his head, popped in his airpods and began to walk in the cold rainy weather.

You on the other hand just lived your life as you did, not knowing what the future would have in store for you, but also learning from your mistakes from your past.

Growing up you moved from place to place due to your mother’s job. You loved it cause as a kid you got to see the world but you missed having a sense of stability. Plus you never were good at making friends so you kept to yourself.

Due to moving, you began to write stories to take your mind off of it but over the time you realized that you had a love for writing. All of the storylines that you wrote felt so real to you as if you actually lived in your stories.

Once you were in University you moved back to your hometown Seoul and are planning to stay until the universe brings you elsewhere. Getting your degree in literature and you couldn’t be more at peace. But you were still lonely, somedays you loved it but other days you felt alone.

Continuing to look outside the rain started to give you some inspiration for a new idea. You went into your room and quickly changed into everyday attire. Grabbed your bag, notebook, as well as an umbrella soon headed out the door.

You walked into your favorite coffee shop and order a simple iced coffee. The shop was busy but your luck was in favor when your favorite spot in the shop was available.

Sitting down and setting your stuff down you looked outside the window you were next to, the rain was still pouring.

Once your coffee was on the table, you put in your airpods and began writing. You were transported to a world of fantasy, the year was 1719 a time where supernatural beings roamed around in hoping to just fit in a have a normal life. Vampires and witches were the most common in the city of Berxley but they were impossible to spot. Chris was a recently turned vampire who was still trying to live his life as a normal human searching for a way to stay with his love forever. He didn’t want to turn her since he didn’t want to cause any physical harm to her but he knew there must be another way to be together. So he made a deal with a young witch to let his love live forever, but instead, he ended up losing her.

The story to you felt so real as if you could understand the pain your main character was feeling, the loneliness.

Chan happened to walk into the same coffee shop, once walking in he looked around and spotted you. He couldn’t believe his eye, after not seeing you for so long he thought he would never see you again.

He noticed how busy the shop was and how there was a chair empty in front of you, so he took his chance and walked up to your table. Lightly he tapped on your shoulder “Hi, do you mind if I sit here,” a tall blonde stranger asked you “there are no empty tables left,” he smiled showing off his dimple.

You had to admit you were taken by surprise, why would someone like him want to sit with someone like you? What did you have that draw him closer to you?

“Um, yeah sure,” you stuttered your words out moving your bag out of the way.

“I’m Chan,” he said extending his hand for a handshake.

Okay now you were really confused at was going on but you look at him and there it was that smile and those dimples. Well, there’s no turning back from what you are about to do.

“I’m y/n,” you shook his hand and a small smile grew on your face.

There it was, the smile that made Chan’s heart beat out of his chest. He wanted to hug you and never let you go but knew that you would find it weird for a complete stranger to be hugging you. But the only that you didn’t know was the two of you weren’t strangers.

“Are you a writer?” Chan asked pointing to your book.

“Yeah, I’m studying literature at the University of Seoul,” you replied looking down and fidgeting with your pencil.

“Can I read some of your work?”.

“Bold move to be asking, how can I be sure that you are not also a writer who going to rip-off my stories?”

“I promise, the only storytelling that I do is through music,” he said leaning towards you and setting his hands on the table.

“Oh, so you write songs?”

“Write, produce, sometimes sings,” he shrugged his shoulder like it wasn’t a bad deal.

Shaking your head you couldn’t believe what you about to do. “Okay, I’ll let you read my stories, but only if you sing me something first,”.

Wow, where was this sudden blast of confident coming from? Normally in a situation where you have to talk to strangers, you barely say a whole sentence. Why was talking to Chan so natural for you?

“Is me singing going to prove anything y/n? Here how about we do this, let me take you out for the rest of the day doing the craziest adventures, and if I convince you that I’m a generally nice human being, am I allow to read your stories?”.

“Okay fine, but you have just a day,” you said closing your notebook and putting it off to the side. “But if you get to read my stories, I should be able to hear you sing?” crossing your hands and leaning back in your chair.

“Deal,” Chan set both of his hands on the table and looked at you with his soft brown eyes “so y/n what are some interesting facts that no one knows?”.

“Oh so we're just going to dive into this okay well, I moved around my entire life due to my mom’s job so I pretty much been around the globe. When I got accepted into university it was a way for me to live a one time for some time”.

“And when did you start writing?” Chan asked setting his hand on his cheek cause he was so happy that he found you again.

“I’m getting there,” you smiled and looked at your notebook. “I think due to moving a ton I began to write about characters who go on different type of adventures like me, I really loved it as a child and here I am studying it,”.

“Oh, where did you move as a child? Maybe our paths have crossed before and we didn’t know it,”.

“Most places in Europe and American,” you said reaching for your coffee. “What about you, what’s your story?”.

Chan really didn’t know what to say, he really can’t blurt out that he was a vampire or that he knew you before.

“I was born and raised in Sydney but I moved to Seoul around the time I was 13 with my mother for her work and my father and two young siblings decided to in Sydney. It was hard being away from my family but they were still young so my parents did want to make them leave all of their friends,”.

“But you had to leave your friends,” you said lowkey feeling sorry for him.

“It’s okay, I went back to Sydney to see them and I made a bunch of friends in I moved here, I consider them to be like family,” he said with a smile on his face thinking about his vampire family.

“Well that’s is good,” you returned a smile to him.

“So do you wanna go on an adventure?” he asked getting out of his seat and held his hand out for you.

“It depends what the adventure is? If we’re going to jump off of buildings I’m going to have to kindly decline that offer,” you looked up at him from your seat.

“Come on, I promise by the end of the day you are going to enjoy today and would totally be down to hanging out with me again,” he raised his eyebrow.

“FINE,” you set your hand in his and smile at him.

Soon the two of you were out the door and on your way on a crazy adventure. The two fo you got onto a bus and it brought you to the Guangdong district. The two of you continued to talk about your interest and goals for life.

Meeting Chan was so crazy cause he would of fit your character Chris if it ever turned into a movie, but you would one hundred percent dye his blonde hair brunette.

“We are here,” Chan said getting up from the bus seat and you followed.

“Chan, where are we going?” you asked looking around. They were many things that one can do in this area but you have no idea what he had in store.

“Well, you wanted to hear me sing right? So we are going to a karaoke room,”.

“That yay, I finally get get to hear you sing and only you sing,”.

"Oh no, y/n you are so joining me for a song or two, there is no one I’m going to be the only one who going to be singing,” he looked at you and then linked you're in the arm with his.

“Chan, I don’t sing,,, like at all,” stopping in the middle of the sidewalk with a look of fear on your face.

“Come on, I think you will be fine,” he said holding the door open for you.

Heading in you have a strange feeling in your stomach. Okay, you can do it you thought to yourself.

“Okay,” Chan walked up to you with the song guide in his hand “we have our room and we have an hour to have fun,”.

“Oh funny,” you said with fear in your eyes.

Once inside the karaoke, you sat down right next to Chan.

Hearing him sing made you feel so warm on the inside. You could really tell that singing was something that he is really passionate about.

“Okay, let’s make a deal, if I can guess your favorite song you have to sing a duet with me,” Chan looked over at you and smile.

“There like over one hundred songs I highly doubt that you will figure out my favorite song,”.

“I think I have you figured out,” he looked at you and then at the screen.

You watched as he scrolled through the list of songs and landed on one by The Beatles. Slowly you moved to the edge of your seat as and then look back at him as he picked your favorite song.

“You don't realize how much I need you, love you all the time and never leave you. Please come on back to me. I'm lonely as can be. I need you,”.

All the memories of this song started to form as you remembered your father singing this to you before you went to bed. It was your favorite part of your bedtime routine and you still play it before you head off to bed.

“Said you had a thing or two to tell me. how was I to know you would upset me?”.

Hearing Chan sing this song made you want to be around him more, it’s like he understood who you are as a person. From the moment you met him you didn’t want to stop having a conversation.

“I didn't realize as I looked in your eyes you told me, oh yes, you told me you don't want my lovin' anymore. that's when it hurt me and feeling like this I just can't go on anymore,”.

He turned to you and had his hand out, you grabbed it and stood up walking close to him.

The microphone was in between the two of you.

Letting out a soft sigh you began to sing that next verses with him.

“Please remember how I feel about you, I could never really live without you so, come on back and see just what you mean to me. I need you”.

Stepping back you felt your heart beating fast, and you felt like you were getting butterflies in your stomach.

It can’t be you weren’t totally not falling for this stranger, but yet you wanted to spend more and more time with him.

“But when you told me, you don't want my lovin' anymore. That's when it hurt me and feeling like this, I just can't go on anymore”.

The way that Chan was singing this song it felt like he too had a strong connection to it.

He looked down at the ground and then again into your eyes as he finished the song.

“Please remember how I feel about you, I could never really live without you. So, come on back and see just what you mean to me. I need you,”.

As the song was ending the two of you were standing you felt so connected to Chan. Your hour was up and both you and chan collected all of your belongings and handed out.

“Let me walk you to your appointment, it’s getting late,” he said holding your hand again.

All you did was smile and nod soon the two of you headed towards the bus stop.

Finding seats was easy since it wasn’t rush hour. Chan was tired and you could tell so you let him have his rest.

During this time you rewrote the story that you come up with in the cafe again. Since your character reminded you so make about Chan you thought it was appropriate to let him read that story. Plus you did promise him that you would let him read your work if you heard him sing and a deal is a deal.

Once you arrived at your stop you gentle woke Chan up and help him off the bus.

He was still in a sleepy state but you didn’t mind as he did look kinda cute.

“Hey sleepy head,” you said running your hand through his soft blonde hair. “We made it to my appointment complex, thank you for an amazing day I truly had a great time,”.

Chan smiled softly as he missed you dearly.

You handed him a slip of paper and headed into your complex.

Chan looked down “I really did have a great time and hope we can do it again, I promised you that you could read one of my stories so here is one of them, enjoy and text me xxx-xxx-xxxx - y/n”.

With a smile on his face he got on the next bus to his apartment, he started to your story and tears come into his eyes. He was surprised at the fact that the story was about the two of you. He knows that when he turned into a vampire it was the hardest time for you and when he made that deal with the witch well that was the worst decision of his life.

“Hey, where have you been?” Jeongin asked once Chan enter the apartment.

“I was out with y/n all day actually, and they remember me, will not me right now but our first life together, god Jeongin I missed them so much and to read that they remember me even if they think our story is a piece of fiction it still makes me happy,” tears started to roll down Chan’s face.

“Hey they at going to remember you and fall for you all over again,” Jeongin walked over to him.

“I miss them so much, today was such an amazing day I’m hoping that we will have another day like today,”.

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areluctantsblog · 5 years

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Teenker headcanon

I got temporarily obsessed with teenker a few days ago and i had this idea. I haven't made a headcanon post before, but I need to get this out of my system. I'd love to write it (even written one scene) but it'd be such an enormous work that I don't think I'll have time to write it anytime soon. Hope y’all enjoy, have fun :)

tw: pseudo-incest

Canonically, Harley lives with his mother after his father leaves them. In this hc he gets orphaned in IM3 and Tony adopts him.

They move to New York, but Harley doesn't like it there, so they move back to his hometown. Tony buys/builds a lake house similar to what we've seen in Endgame. They also have garage/lab where they tinker together.

Tony is still Iron Man and he works tirelessly with the team. He flies to New York most days, but if Harley needs him, he stays home and makes sure that his boy is all right.

Harley is doing well, he likes his new high school much better than the one he started in New York. He's not a posh kid and doesn't want to become one despite Tony's unlimited funds. He's glad that Tony understands and accepts him this way.

Sometimes, he goes along with Tony to New York. If not forced to live there, he quite enjoys Stark Tower. However, the company that comes with it is more complicated. Being at the receiving end of the attentions of a group of superheroes is flattering and embarrassing at the same time, especially if one is 15.

Ultron happens and it shakes both Tony and Harley.

Harley's always known that Tony - he never thinks about him as his father - could get in danger, but actually fearing for his life is terrible. In the two years since the adoption no mission came close to that of Sokovia and Harley finds himself wishing that Tony would quit.

After his vision, where he sees Harley dead, too, the only thing Tony wants is to hug his boy and make sure that he's all right. He wants to protect him and the others, but it all backfires. They win, but the price is terrible and so is Tony's guilt.

It's hard times for both of them and it doesn't get better any time soon because Civil War happens.

Tony recruits Peter Parker and after the fighting is done, he doesn't ghost him, but invites him to the lake house.

Harley gets jealous and worried, because Peter is so much more like Tony, a genius superhero, and Harley has no idea how he can compete with that. Tony is bound to love Peter more and Harley thinks he can already see the signs in the way Tony's hand lingers on Peter's shoulder and how it slips down lower on his back than appropriate.

But Harley can't resent Peter because the boy really is very likeable. He starts to enjoy his visits and tries not to think too much about the time Peter gets to spend with Tony in New York.

It takes Tony about half a year to admit that he's attracted to Peter Parker. It fucks him up, but he's powerless against it. All he can do is withhold his offer that Peter could spend weekends and holidays at the lake house. May is busy, but she's there and Tony is also better off without the constant temptation. However, with May getting a new job that keeps her away 5 days a week and the summer holiday approaching Tony runs out of excuses. He knows that Peter would love to be their guest and as far as he can tell Harley wouldn't mind either.

For the most part, Harley doesn't mind. He gets along greatly with Peter. Tony is on his best behaviour most of the time, so Harley can deal with their attraction, too. The hardest part might be when Peter goes back to New York to patrol. At those times, Harley has trouble falling asleep. It's not only that he worries for Peter, but also his other issues that he only allows himself to think about alone. The thing is, that despite the support Tony could offer him, Harley doesn't want to go to university. He wants to be a mechanic, wants to help people by repairing their vehicles and other machines, wants the simple life of owning a little workshop. He always had something similar in mind and getting the chance to enjoy the superb workshop Tony put together for them convinced Harley about his plans. The problem was Tony, or more exactly his reaction. Harley dreaded to disappoint him. It was one of the things that got worse after Peter came into their lives. Tony has never shut up about how the kid is bound to get into MIT. Harley knows he has to talk to Tony, but he waits, hoping that it'll get easier.

Peter loves this summer. Despite his worries that Harley might not be happy about his presence, he finds that they are soon becoming close friends. He still goes on patrol three or four times a week. He agreed to share it with Tony, and it works fine, except for the fact that they rarely spend the evening together. Peter is disappointed, because he admires the family that is Tony and Harley - and he also enjoys being near Mr Stark for other, more private reasons.

Homecoming still happens that autumn. Tony is not ghosting Peter, but he wants to spend time with Harley to work on their relationship. At the start of his last year in high-school, Harley tells Tony about his plans and also his fears. Tony has nothing against Harley becoming a mechanic, but he's deeply upset that Harley thought he could possibly be a disappointment. As they talk through it, Harley's jealousy comes to light, too. Well, not the part where Tony wants to get into Peter’s pants, nor the part that it only bothers Harley because it's not him that Tony's after. No, they keep silent about all that, but they still discuss Harley's frustration that comes from being ordinary next to two genius superheroes.

It works and they reach a new level of trust despite keeping heavier secrets than ever before.

Tony is stricken with guilt after what the Vulture does to Peter in his absence.

At first Peter waves it off and says that he's a hero on his own, without Tony's help, but eventually he starts having symptoms indicative of PTSD.

Tony invites Peter over for weekend to work it out together. Peter ends up staying for a whole week and even Harley stays home from school. They all share their thoughts and feelings about the events and sort out all the remorse and resentment that appeared either consciously or subconsciously. If they weren't before, they definitely become a family after this. In the intervals of the deep conversations, Tony cooks for them and the boys enjoy the autumn air by rowing on the lake. They watch movies and torture Tony with 21th century music. By the time next Monday arrives, they are all relieved and happy once more.

The rest of the year goes by quietly. They celebrate Christmas together and Harley only feels a sting of envy when Peter pulls out the flashy new suit that Tony made for him. It only lasts however, until Harley himself opens his gift and finds a comfortable looking, yet obviously high-tech overall in it, tailored to suit the needs of a mechanic. He hugs Tony with warmth and gratitude.

Peter feels pretty much the same. He smiles as he watches Tony hug Harley. They really made it work and now are able to admit their emotions in front of each other. Well, the family friendly ones at least. The thought makes Peter blush.

By the time May arrives, both conspicuous packages are hidden. The delicious cookies she brings make up for her being late.

Next term is quiet for both boys. They chat a lot and seize every opportunity to meet. Sometimes, Tony takes them somewhere, skiing (neither of them knows skiing, but they have fun learning), hiking (Peter's spider senses help a great deal) and to various car shows (where Peter can silently admire the awed expressions of Tony's and Harley's faces).

Harley graduates and he plans to enjoy one last summer before starting mechanic school and work at a nearby shop.

Peter gets there too as soon as school ends.

At first, Harley is happy to see him, then, when he actually looks at him, he knows that he's fucked. Peter got ripped. He's still slender, but those muscles are impossible to miss. When Peter hugs him on the threshold, it's all Harley can do not to pop a boner.

The situation gets worse when Peter comes downstairs after dropping his bags into his room, wearing nothing but swimming trunks and invites Harley to the lake.

It's not easy for Harley to come to terms with the new situation. Peter became hot. He's still lovely, fluffy and cute but now, Harley wants Peter to pin him to the wall and whisper dirty things in his ear. The fact that he's sure that Peter couldn’t talk dirty without blushing and stammering does nothing to lessen Harley's desire. On the contrary, he wants to kiss that blush off Peter's cheeks.

And there's more. They never talked like this. Not just about science, music and other stuff, but about themselves, their hopes and fears. They've never opened up so much without Tony being there, taking care of them.

It's about three weeks after Peter's arrival, while they are by the lake again that Harley walks up to him and tells Peter that if he has no objection, he's going to kiss him.

Peter doesn't object but gets very nervous because he's not sure if they're allowed to kiss.

Harley doesn't push it. They talk, lying on the landing stage. It's still that afternoon when they kiss eventually.

Things escalate fast.

Peter sneaks into Harley's room two nights later. This time, Tony is at home. Harley still gives him a blowjob - Peter's first - and gets off on his dirtiest fantasies about Tony catching them and taking revenge on Harley for being with his precious Peter by fucking him - preferably both of them - hard into the mattress.

Tony spends the next weekend with them. It means less kisses and more fuel for their secret desires.

Once Tony leaves, Harley and Peter continue their game of making out in every corner of the house and the grounds. When Harley suggests Tony's bedroom, Peter hesitates. That's when Harley decides to risk it and he tells Peter how turned on Tony would be to know that Peter got off in his bed. The only thing that could make him more into it, if it was his doing.

Peter doesn't deny it. He noticed Tony's eyes and hands linger on him. He welcomes them, god he does. He'd be so ready to do it - he finds himself going hard from the idea even now that he's with Harley. He feels guilty but Harley kisses it off him. He tells Peter how much he envies him, how he would love to receive such attention from Tony.

Harley takes Peter's virginity in Tony's bed that day. They change the sheets, but the smell of sex lingers. Later that night, without him realising it, it helps Tony come so hard that he can't help crying out. His boys listen.

After this, things change. It's obvious, even though its exact manifestations are imperceptible. They all play it coolly. Tony sees how much closer his boys are and it would be hypocritical if the possibility of something going on between them didn't cross his mind. Peter is scorching hot and his Harley is a beautiful young man. When Tony sees that Harley and Peter are all right, he decides to accept it without looking for an explanation.

Peter falls in love with Harley, too. He had no idea that there was enough place in his heart for two people, but he's happy to find that there is.

Harley realises that - apart from Tony - Peter is the only one to whom he opened up so trustingly. In a way their relationship had been unique a long time before that kiss. And it all led towards where they are now.

The separation that the new school year brings about is difficult for all of them, but it's also exciting. Harley loves mechanic school and Peter - being Peter - enjoys school. They meet as often as they can. Tony helps them, flying almost daily between the city and his home.

The time Tony spent in the lab that summer - his boys are growing up, they don't need him 24/7 - means that he makes ground-breaking progress in nanotechnology. First, he designs and builds Mark L. It has to be him first, so that he's able to protect his family. That word still stings. Of course, Harley is his family and now Peter, but there's Pepper and Happy, too, and Rhodey and even those he lost. No matter what, he wants to protect them all.

After the Mark L, he starts working on the Iron Spider armour. He means to fish it by Christmas, but one month is nowhere near enough to put all the special features in it.

Tony sits down to talk with Harley at the end of the year. He asks him about how the many changes in their lives are working out for him. He's relieved to see Harley content. He remarks that Tony's happiness would add greatly to his and that he'd love to help. It makes Tony feel a pang of guilt.

Tony tells Harley about the Iron Spider suit and offers to make him one, too, in case he ever needs it for protection.

Harley refuses, saying that it's not fair to stay away from the fight if he has an armour and he doesn’t want to fight. "I've got you for protection," he says and tears well up in Tony's eyes as Harley cups his face with overwhelming trust and love.

Infinity War happens.

Peter dies. Tony is stuck in space for three weeks and one day. Harley is maddened by grief. He's curled up on the living room floor, eyeing the door through his tears, when Natasha and Rhodey find him. They bring him to the compound to keep him safe and care for him.

When Tony returns, they don't let go of each other for a long time. Harley sleeps next to Tony's bed and they leave despite the doctor's orders after Tony's return.

The others don't bother Tony with their plan to go after Thanos. He's made his point clear to Steve and he's too weak anyway. But mostly, they respect that he's a father who needs to mourn and care for his other son.

On the first day Tony and Harley just curl up on the sofa and hold each other. They cry, then they sleep. On the second day, Harley changes Tony’s bandages. On the third day, Tony cooks and they eat it. On the fourth day Tony remembers to call May. When she doesn’t answer, he flies to New York. Harley accompanies him despite his reluctance. They find the apartment locked up. Tony blasts in the door. First, they smell the awful stench of an almost a month-old cereal and milk. Then, they see the small pile of ash on the chair and around the table.

Harley drags Tony to the jet. Friday flies them home. They are back at day one, clutching at each other desperately and sobbing.

Happy shows up next day. Later, Harley figures that Friday must have called him. He brings food and moral support. During the three days Happy spends there, Tony gets on his feet. He starts caring for Harley again.

It takes Harley a whole day after it's just the two of them again, to say something other than please and thank you.

He tells Tony that he loved Peter. When Tony says that he understands, Harley realises that this is it, the moment he never thought would come, when they talk about it.

They do, they tell each other everything without being exact once. They don't need to be. They've both known, now it's just confirmation. It's the most intimate moment they've ever shared.

That night, Harley goes into Tony's bedroom. Tony protests, but Harley doesn't stop. "Don't you love me, too?" Harley asks and Tony is torn, because he does and doesn't, not this way, not before...

Harley snuggles close to him, wraps his arm and leg around Tony, not hiding his erection, nor the moan he lets out when he can finally feel the heat of Tony's body pressed against his. He looks at Tony from a few inches distance and asks him if he still wants him to tell how they were with Peter - something he asked that afternoon.

Tony can't breathe from shock and from arousal, but he nods, eyes wide and glued to Harley. He's never seen his son like this, was never supposed to see him like this, light blue eyes darkened by passion, blonde curls already debauched, lips glistening where he licked them in the most delicious way...

Tony is lost. He nods again and wraps his arms around Harley.

Harley tells him how he liked to see, touch and love Peter. Each memory hurts, each fantasy reminds him that he will never able to play any of them out with Peter, but Tony's soft stroking on his back and his erection pressed into Harley's thigh keeps him anchored to the present.

When Tony sees Harley's eyes glisten with tears, he kisses him. His guilt, though heavy, feels nothing compared to their loss. Crossing the line doesn't bring the burning shame of sin, but the relief of honesty. This is Tony's confession to both of his boys.

The weight of what they've done catches up with them next morning. Harley fears that he tainted Peter's memory and their love. Tony fears that he ruined his son.

It takes days for them to figure it out. They spend some time apart but return to each other in their grief.

When Tony learns that the others found and killed Thanos, he laughs. Thor executed the titan and Tony fucked his son. Both are big deal, yet neither made a difference in the universe.

Slowly, in matter of months rather than weeks, Tony starts working again. He builds tech to support the rest of humanity in their efforts to stabilise their world once again. In some cases, he had the plans already. In others, he comes up with new ideas.

Harley goes back to school. Most of his teachers survived and after a few months of recuperation they've decided to go back to work. The class that wasn't too big to begin with now looks pitiful.

Harley's boss at the garage died, too. Only him and another assistant are left. They take over the shop, but the other guy breaks down and starts skipping. Harley understands but he doesn't have the strength to reach out to him. He keeps going on his own, repairing cars and machines. People are grateful but they both know that none of them can repair what really matters.

At first Harley and Tony pretend to go to bed separately, only for one of them to end up crawling into the other's each night. Then, they give in and use Tony's bedroom. Sometimes, they do things, sometimes they just sleep.

When Harley is stricken with guilt, he tells himself that he needs it for survival, but deep down he knows that it's not that. Not only that. He's wanted Tony for a long time and having him is bliss, no matter the pain.

Tony feels much the same, even though he never thought about Harley this way before. However, it's only in his arms that he comes close to feeling something akin to happiness since Peter's death.

Peter's birthday is hell. The New York memorial place hasn't reached the letter p yet, so they have no place to honour Peter's memory apart from their home. Rhodey calls. Happy drops by with Pepper. They make several attempts at conversation but end up eating in silence. The knowledge that Peter would have turned eighteen that day weighs them down.

Christmas is awful, too. It's just Harley and Tony on Christmas eve but Rhodey, Pepper, Happy and even Natasha visit on boxing day. This celebration is merrier than Peter's birthday but still quite subdued.

Their own birthdays, Harley and Tony celebrate with each other.

It's not until a year later that his guilt catches up to Tony and he suggests that Harley should find someone else. Not to replace Peter, but to replace him. Harley is enraged. He refuses point blank and sucks Tony off there, in the middle of the kitchen to prove his point.

Tony doesn't mention it again. Sometimes the idea that he should, that he must put and end to it becomes stronger, but then he embraces their sinful reality again.

When Steve turns up with Nat and Scott Lang, Tony's alone. He refuses to participate in the madness they propose, but he is unable to stop his mind.

By the time Harley gets home from the workshop Tony not only has to tell him about the visit and the proposal, but also the solution he found. Harley breaks out in tears. He asks in a trembling voice if they can get Peter back. Tony tells him that if they succeed, they get everyone back. Harley lets him go, but can't resist running after him from the front porch to kiss him and make him promise that he comes back. Tony promises to do whatever it takes. He doesn't tell Harley that Peter will be his priority. Harley must know, but it's easier to keep silent about it.

Endgame happens. It's Thor who snaps and even in his weakened state, he survives.

After the battle, Tony takes Peter home. Harley flies towards them, sobbing and Peter almost falls as he throws himself into his arms. When Harley kisses him, Peter pulls back. Tony is quick to step closer and assure him that it's all right. Peter's eyes go wide as Tony touches his face. He glances at Harley for an explanation, but doesn’t need it anymore when Tony's lips crush against his.

Half an hour and some hurried explanations later Peter goes home to find May amidst repeated confessions of his love for both Harley and Tony.

That night, Harley takes control and fucks Tony until tears. Tony needs it. As he surrenders himself completely, he can feel the tension of the mission finally dissolve.

The next few days pass in a frenzy of burials and celebrations. It’s almost a whole week before all three of them can return to the lake house and find some peace. Harley is the first to arrive. He flew back a few days ago because he got a van to repair. Peter is the next to arrive. He walks straight to Harley and straddles him on the couch. After a long kiss he tells him that Tony is outside with Steve, talking about rebuilding. Harley groans and tells him to run along and rescue him. Peter is happy to go and he soon returns with a much turned on Tony. At Harley’s raised eyebrow Tony explains how their little boy’s innocence is the sexiest look on him. Peter glows with pride and moans as he feels two sets of hands move to undress him.

#teenker #harley x peter #harley x tony #harley x peter x tony #pseudo-incest #no one is related #from IM3 to endgame #tw: pseudo-incest

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 31: New Tastes

Chapters: 31/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Thor(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Is Still Up To His Tricks, Loki Just Wants To Help, It’s Not A Date, Only Two Beds, Loki Is Starting To Realize Summary: On the night before the proceedings, Loki tries to take your mind off your nervousness with a nice meal, alone together. It's not a date though. Really.

Akureyri was the second largest human settlement in Iceland, and even to a small-town American woman, it didn't seem very big. Bigger than your hometown, but smaller by far than the nearest 'large' city in Iowa; a state famous for its large cornfields, not its population.

The group of you crossed a long bridge over the beautiful fjord, only to find even more protesters on the other side. At the first hint of a waving sign, you found yourself surrounded by horses, Asgardians on all sides. These protesters stayed beside the road, and made no moves to approach, being watched by bored-looking police officers, who also did not move from their spots.

Despite the much more peaceful appearance of these protesters, the Asgardians remained on high alert all the way to the nice hotel, and sent both Valkyries to lead the horses to their own reservations at the nearest stables. The rest of you stowed yourselves away in the restaurant area to await their return.

You were hearing a surprising amount of American English being spoken by the people around you. Either tourism was booming, or they were here for the trial. You never thought that the sound of your homeland's speech would awaken suspicion in you, but you found the Asgardian accents around you to be a barrier to the dread.

“Loki and I will be in one room, Brunnhilde and Borgliot in another, and _____ and Saldis will be in the last.” Thor said, and the chatter around you diminished. You noticed a young woman staring at you, though she looked away when you met her gaze. “Apparently, these were the last rooms available, as a large wave of tourists have arrived for the summer. The receptionist rather helpfully told me that this happens every year, but not quite to this degree.”

“No more mouth.” You tried to say in Asgardian.

“Pardon?” Loki asked, astonished.

“No mouth. No more mouth.” You didn't know how to say it, but when Thor had mentioned their sleeping arrangements, too much of that background English had abruptly stopped. People were obviously listening in, either out of pure curiosity, or for more suspect purposes. You couldn't tell them in English, because everyone would understand, but you didn't have the words in Asgardian yet.

“Mouth? Dear, I don't think...”

You flapped your hand like a puppets mouth, and his expression became understanding. He turned to Thor, speaking swiftly in a language you had never heard. All of the Asgardians seemed to understand, but all you could tell was that it was not Asgardian. They all seemed to agree with what he was saying, Saldis grabbing your luggage and leading you to your shared room.

“We really need to work on your Asgardian, my Seidkona.” She said blandly, as you entered the very nice room.

“Yeah, sorry, I haven't picked up nearly as much as I oughta. Andsvarr tried to teach me some basic stuff, but I don't have nearly his gift for language.”

“It is something he is very good at. It's a shame his father wouldn't let him pursue a scholar's life, but nothing would do for him but that all his sons be in the royal guard.”

“His father is that Alarr guy? He seems, uh....”

“He is a donkey.” Saldis sniffed, hanging your dresses. “Always braying and stepping on other people's feet.”

“Woah. Are you supposed to talk like that?”

“Who is going to tell?”

You started laughing, because it certainly wasn't going to be you, but the laughter turned into a short scream, as Saldis disappeared in a cloud of smoke, to be replaced by a larger figure.

You fumbled for your knife, drawing it just as Loki cleared the smoke.

“Oh dear.” He slowly moved the point of your knife aside with one finger. “Have I startled you?”

“W-what's going on now?” You demanded. “Where's Saldis?”

“With Borgliot.” He said. “We saw fit to reassign our sleeping arrangements. There is simply too much potential for danger, for you to be left with a non-combatant.”

“You understood. Thank goodness.” You sheathed your knife. “Everyone was listening in.”

“Fortunately, no one in that room had the possibility of understanding Vanas. Unfortunately, that included you as well. I regret that we could not tell you what we were about to do, but we had no way to do it without also informing potentially dangerous eavesdroppers.”

“Yeah, well. Okay.” You put your knife away, laying the sheath on an end table.

“You should keep that with you.” Loki suggested.

“I'm in my own hotel room, and it's close by. Besides, I really shouldn't be carrying it here. I'm pretty sure it's super illegal. We came here to see justice done for a crime, so we shouldn't be committing another crime at the same time. So...are you sleeping here now?”

“There's two beds my dear. You needn't fear anything nefarious from me. Well, not much, anyway. Or, do you prefer your servant's company to mine?”

“Well she was putting my dresses away. Looks like now you have to finish that for her.” You quipped.

That might have been a mistake. Loki locked eyes with you, lifting a dress from the luggage, and reverently hanging it next to the others. The next one caught his eye, being green and soft, and sleeveless. You noticed that it had a surprisingly low neckline. Who had put that in there? It was nowhere near warm enough outside to warrant revealing that much skin.

Loki held the dress up to the light to examine, fondling the cloth, taking in all the little details. He then slowly approached you, holding the dress up against your form, as if trying to imagine what it would look like if it were actually being worn.

“Put this on.” He said, voice a soft whisper.

“Wha-now?” You exclaimed. He nodded. “Why? We're not going anywhere.”

“Exactly.”

You sighed and took the dress into the bathroom.

It fit. It fit really well. It also made you look like you belonged on the cover of an old fantasy novel, where everyone was wearing very impractical things to be fighting dragons, but sure looked good. You weren't sure you had seen anyone else in Asgard who showed this much skin.

“I...I don't know if I want to come out.” You called through the door. “I'm kinda embarrassed.”

“I'm sure you've nothing to be embarrassed about.” He called back. “Besides, twice this day you have commanded me as if I were a servant, and I have acquiesced. Come out, and show me the dress.”

You should have known that would come back to haunt you. At least he didn't sound angry. You steeled yourself, and stepped out into the room.

You'd expected a bit of ridicule. Teasing about your figure, or comparison to the graceful and powerful Asgardian women, or even outright dismissal. What you did not expect was for his breath to catch, or for him to fail to hide it. For his eyes to rake over you, or his lips to curl upwards with smug satisfaction.

“Uh...Do you like it?” You asked shyly. The last time you had dressed up privately for a man, he had ended as your emotionally abusive ex.

“Very much.” He said. “I knew I had good taste.”

“You put this in here?”

“No, no. I ordered it made for you, but I did not know it was done yet. We have galas and feasting holidays in the wintertime, and I wanted you to have something appropriate to wear.”

“You call this appropriate?” You asked, gesturing to the distressing neckline, and immediately regretting drawing his eyes back to your chest like that.

“It is not inappropriate, and that is the most important part.” He pointed out. “You would hardly be wearing the most risque thing I've seen at one of these galas.”

“Well, you're a legendary prince, you've probably seen all kinds of things during your fancy dances. Or after...” You halted that train of thought right there. That was none of your business.

The levity left his face as you spoke. “Have I caused offense? You look a vision, my dear, I thought you would see that when you put on the dress. I am not angry about your demands; I found the audacity amusing.”

“No, no, I'm just on edge right now, it's not your fault. I'm probably gonna be all wound up like this until the trial is over. I'm scared of all the people out there, I'm even scared of hearing my own language!”

There was a knock at the door. You jumped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, in that case, it's probably a good thing I ordered dinner to be delivered to us.” Loki announced.

Green light flickered at his outlines, his appearance changing until the visage of Saldis stood before you. She wore Loki's expression, winked at you, then opened the door to accept the meal. Once that was done, he resumed his regular form.

“I didn't know you could do that!” You exclaimed. “Must come in handy!”

“You have no idea. Now, have a seat, let us have dinner.”

*****

Loki had known that dress was going to make you into a work of art when he had commissioned it, but he had not counted on just how exquisite the combination of cloth and bashfulness would be. He couldn't wait to show you off at the Buridag gala, but even deeper down than that, he wanted to hide you away so that no one else could see you like this.

He felt that was rather silly of him, considering that everything he had done so far had been specifically so that you would be seen. Seen, and known, and respected.

But he still didn't want anyone else to see this. To see you shy and squirming in a perfect dress of his own devising. Perhaps he was just feeling protective. You had been projecting distress all day, after all, and he wanted to lighten your mood just a little. Make you smile a few times before he had to allow you back into the presence of that murderous human slime.

How he wished you had let him kill the man!

Instead, he set the food down on a little table, and pulled out the chair for you. Producing a gilded candelabra with green candles, he lit them with a spell, and placed it in the center of the table. You mumbled something about the candles being green, but of course they were green, always green, like the verdant living lands, like farms full of food, like forests full of timber. It would always be green, green and gold, the twin colors of prosperity, success, and wealth.

He drew the heavy curtains closed, plunging the room into candlelit darkness. The sun wouldn't set for another month, but here, he could at least create for you a kind of faux night. He even poured the wine for the both of you, having chosen a unique and less powerful variety specifically for you. He still caught you eying it suspiciously.

“I'm told this is a very special wine. Locally made by the only winemaker on the entire island. They called it Kvöldsól, and it is apparently made without any grapes at all, but with wild berries, herbs, and rhubarb instead. I assure you, it is safe for human consumption. In fact, I am told that it is touted as a potent brew for the preservation of youth, driving away the ravages of age with something called anti-oxygen. Which sounds absurd; humans need great quantities of oxygen to live. But perhaps there is something to it?”

Yes, defending you from mortal aging was a worthy cause. It would be nice to keep you around for as long as possible.

“First of all.” You said, a gentle mirth in your voice. “I'm pretty sure it's 'anti-oxidants'. Second, are you implying that you don't?”

”Not as much as you, perhaps. Does it meet your approval?”

You took an experimental sip.

“Okay, yeah. It's good.”

It wasn't, not by Asgardian standards, but it also was at least a little different from the jumped up peasant fare that was nearly every other Midgardian wine. They were all either so sweet they might as well be desserts, or so dry they were tasteless. This, at least, had the excuse of being made with wild things, and if it was good for your health, he could make sure you had a supply.

Dinner was a charcuterie platter that also boasted a variety of fruits, nuts, crackers, spreads, and local cheeses, as well as what appeared to be one small smoked bird each, and one strip of cooked meat each.

Loki didn't suppose you could identify half of these things, except perhaps, the fruits, considering that most of them came from within Iceland, which you hadn't yet had the chance to see much of yet. He would have to arrange a royal road trip before the summer ended. What a great bonding opportunity that would be; on the road, alone together, learning more and more about what made each other work. He knew you would enjoy exploring, you had proven to be adventurous; even now you were choosing a little bit of everything for your plate, especially the things you were unfamiliar with. He wondered if he should tell you what everything was?

Most of this was finger food, and you ate with relish; it appeared lunch had not stayed with you. The journey through the mountains especially must have been grueling, he'd been able to tell by looking at you, but you had nobly refused help and just urged everyone to continue on.

“You've been so brave through all of this.” He said. “We will be here for a week, but this trial should not last that long. We can use the rest of the time to take a little vacation. There is a lovely botanical garden here in the city; we can get you some plants here, if you like. There are bookstores and museums. There are also shops, and a place to watch the whales swimming, and just across the fjord there is a waterfall to observe. We might be able to visit everything, if you like.”

“That might be nice. I've never seen whales before.” You regarded the little smoked bird and strip of meat with curiosity. They were different from the other fare before them, but you took several experimental bites anyway, and seemed to like them.

“Is this a quail?” You wondered. “It's so little. Tastes kinda weird. Not bad, but a little strange for a bird.”

“I believe this is a puffin. A type of seabird.” He elaborated at your blank expression.

“Like a seagull?” You asked. “You can eat seagulls?”

“Probably. I assume you can eat any kind of bird, they are all made of bird-flesh.”

“Eew, don't say bird-flesh.”

Loki held out his phone to you, having brought up a photo of a puffin.

“Ohhh, it's so cute!” You exclaimed. “Those live here? I think I'd rather see them than eat them.”

“I believe they used to be common fare, but now they only serve them to tourists. And visiting dignitaries, of course.”

“Okay, well I'll eat this one, because I don't like food to go to waste, but I think I'll stick with chicken from now on.”

“At least they understood our status when they sent us the sheep cheeks.” Loki said cheerfully, pointing at the strip of cooked meat. He had been rather impressed by the level of respect their hosts had shown by including it.

A bite stopped in midair, halfway to your mouth. “Uhhh...”

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I've just, uh, never eaten the cheeks off something before.”

Loki laughed quietly. “Of course not! That's kings fare. You would never have even seen such a delicacy. Meat from the head of the animal is always the best part, so it goes to the royal table. Unless, of course, you hunted the animal down yourself. So I suppose that's one way in which a peasant and a king might experience the same thing.”

“Don't like to waste food...” You muttered.

It was rather baffling to Loki, modern humans conceptions of what was good to eat. Granted, it seemed to change from region to region, but it seemed like, no matter where one went, there was some form of food that the locals turned their noses up at.

Perhaps he shouldn't judge too harshly. Some people simply couldn't digest certain things. Loki himself had some trouble with root vegetables. They sat like lead on his stomach, and made his bowels twist. Most people chalked it up to the pronounced pickiness of the nobility, but Loki could put forth his own guesses. Namely, that there was no such thing as a 'root vegetable' on Jotunheim.

He could change his face, but he couldn't change everything.

He still couldn't bring himself to tell you. Not yet. Certainly not now, when you had other things looming large in your mind. Later. When you returned home in triumph, and peace was restored.

Maybe.

It occurred to Loki that he had never actually told anyone of his true heritage himself. Odin and Frigga had always known. Odin had told Thor, and Thor had then told Brunnhilde and his Midgardian companions. And Loki had indirectly told all of Asgard, through the commission of his play, although that was after he had supposedly died a hero, and become beyond reproach.

But he'd never had to look someone else in the face and say to them with his own mouth 'I am a Jotun'.

It felt like admitting to a crime.

But it was not his crimes that were important here. The courthouse called, bright and early tomorrow morning. With any luck, this would all be over quickly and easily.

The time came to sleep, and Loki was as good as his word; he kept his back turned until you were changed and under your blankets, before turning out the lights and settling into his own bed.

As your breathing slowed, Loki allowed himself the tiny illicit thrill of imagining himself lying next to you, peacefully cuddling. Nothing inappropriate, nothing questionable, just gently holding you.

Loki knew that he liked touching you. He didn't put much thought into it; it was obviously because of the magical bond between you. His touch healed your body, your touch soothed his spirit. It seemed obvious.

He was not going to question a good thing right now.

Loki snuggled his other pillow, but it wasn't nearly as soft and warm as he imagined you to be.

#loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#valkyrie (marvel)#brunnhilde (marvel)#marvel fanfiction #lasabrjotr

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xilee-reaper · 5 years

Text

Take my Heart (Chapter 1)

Genre: Fluff / Mystery / humour / angst / drama / action / fantasy

Pairing: Jungkook x reader | bts x reader

Word count: 3,744

Summary: During the course of a school year, Jungkook and other students awaken to their Persona powers, becoming a group of secret vigilantes that will help save humanity from ruin.

Author’s note: Hi! So my plan to finish the first heist failed. I realized that the time interval of my upload between each heist will be insanely long is I strictly upload per heist. So I decided to just break down the heist into different chapters. Because the first heist long, this is just the beginning trust me. Before we move into the next heist it will probably take another 2-4 chapter.

Also, I did not reread what I just typed so yeah. I will fix it later. The more notes I get the more motivated I am, so keep that notes flying hahaha kidding kidding but really though, I really appreciate it if you send me some feedback.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for the next chapters.

Navigation: Masterlist

First Heist: Bae KyuSoo

Month: April. Day: 09 (Saturday Afternoon)

Jungkook woke up in a train “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for riding our train today. We will be arriving at Seoul station shortly” the announcer said but all of this was unheard as Jungkook focuses on what’s the reason why’s he here.

From a near distance, Jungkook heard an argument between a man and a woman.

“Just get in the car.”

“Stop it!”

Eaten by his curiosity, he decided to see what’s going or if he needed to interfere.

“How dare you cross me”

“Stop it! Let me go! No!”

“Don’t give me that shit”

“Ow! P-please, stop!”

“What a waste of time. You think you’re worth causing me trouble? Huh?”

“I-I’ll call the police!”

“Heh, call them if you want. The police are my bitches. They’re not gonna take you seriously.”

“No... Stop!”

“Incompetent fools like you just need to shut your mouths and follow where I steer this country!”

“Please! Help!” The woman exclaimed as she saw Jungkook.

It was an assault. Feeling the urgent need to help, Jungkook hurriedly ran and tried to release the man’s grasped from the woman by dragging his shoulder. A foul breath greeted him, the man was drunk, really drunk to the point he lost his balance. Jungkook put the woman behind as they watch the man stagger and lost his footing. He hit his head on the railing but Jungkook was too shocked to register what’s happening.

“Damn brat... I’ll sue!” the man screamed as he glared at Jungkook while holding his head, blood pouring out of it.

Everything happened so fast that all Jungkook can remember was the police dragging him inside their vehicle.

“What? Are you for real? A mental shutdown?” He heard some gossiping teenager said. “It’s the truth!”

“To a person though? That’s gotta be a joke. You really love all that occult stuff, don’t you?”

As he was listening Jungkook noticed that the train already arrived at Seoul station. Quickly, he gathered all of his stuff and exited the train. As he was walking he noticed how different Seoul was to his hometown, Busan. Everything was so busy, from people to the vehicles. Although Seoul was big, it felt so stuffy and unfriendly. As he was observing this big city his phone suddenly beep, notifying him that there’s a new app that’s been installed. Jungkook became confused, as he looked at his phone there’s a red-eye icon showing. Not knowing what to do he decided to click on it and the icon became bigger. He just repeatedly click the app hoping that he can delete it but to no avail, it didn’t work. Sighing thinking that his phone might have a virus he decided to stuff it back to his pocket but as he was doing this he noticed something bizarre happening. Everything was slowing, from the people to the vehicles moving, even the noise was getting slower and slower. And then, as if the time had stopped working, everything stood motionless.

Alarmed, Jungkook looked around him to see he’s just the only one conscious. He’s not the only one, someone, a girl was standing on top of a building staring emotionless at him. Her eyes have a different color from one another, one was bright yellow, while the other was silver, almost white. She has a doll-like face with a small stature and a silver hair. A man was standing, no-- flying beside her. Like the girl, the man has silver hair and silver eyes accompanied by a silver wing. “What the...” Jungkook was speechless when he noticed the girl and the man turned their backs on him and retreating from their position. “Hey wait!” He tried to run after them.

From a distance, he saw something, a blue and black fire morphing into some kind of figure then suddenly bursting forming a wing-like shape. It felt like Jungkook was trapped in a trance when the fire-figure smiled sinisterly at him and Jungkook suddenly saw his face, equally sinister and smiling like the figure.

As if he was finally released from the trance, Jungkook blinked once and noticed that everything was back to normal. When he looked at his phone he still saw the red-eye icon. Shrugging and not thinking any of it he decided to just delete the app and proceeded to transfer train.

Once he arrived at his destination ‘Ichon’ he quickly goes to the area where his new place was located. Arriving at some kind of back street, he looked around ‘Starting today, Sejin will be taking care of me.’ he thought ‘Can’t he just give his surname? It will be a pain in the ass to find a man without knowing his surname.’

“Oh well. His house should be in the backstreets of this residential area” He said to himself as he hiked up his bag further on his shoulder.

Once he arrived on what seems Sejin’s house he rang the doorbell but no one was answering or opening the door.

“Looks like no one’s home...” Jungkook quickly turned his head to the direction of the sound. He saw a delivery man carrying a parcel “Oh, yeah... Sejin-shi usually at his cafe around this time. I should make my other deliveries first.” the delivery man mumbles.

“Excuse me.” Jungkook said gaining the delivery man’s attention. “I’m looking for Sejin? Do you know where he is right now?”

“Are you new here? It’s not common to see a handsome face in this area. Anyways, Sejin-shi’s cafe ‘Leblanc’ is in the back alley.” the delivery man said. Jungkook just bowed and thanked the man before proceeding to go the back alley.

Once he arrived at the back alley he noticed a sign that has ‘Cafe Leblanc’ written on it. Jungkook goes inside and was greeted by three people who were watching the news.

“A public transit bus was driven down an opposing lane with its customer still in it! The citizens can’t live in peace if this keeps up.” The news reporter on the t.v. announces.

“How frightening” an elder male customer commented

“What could be going on? Didn’t something similar happen just the other day?” an elder female customer asked.

“Hmmm... vertical is... the name of a kpop band who goes to Grammy’s....... What in the world is this question?!” the man who looked like a manager of the cafe quietly exclaimed when he noticed a burning stare. He decided to look up and saw Jungkook standing at the cafe entrance “Oh right” he groaned “They did say that was today” he mumbled

“So, you’re the punk. Jungkook?”

“Uh... Sejin-shi?” Jungkook questioned

“Yeah. I’m Manager Sejin. You’ll be in my custody over the next year. I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you’re the one, huh? Didn’t expect such an innocent looking brat. Have you been told? A customer of mine and your parents know each other and-- Well, not that it matters. Follow me.”

He leads Jungkook to a dirty attic “This is your room. I’ll at least give you sheets for your bed.” he said. Jungkook looked around the room thinking that it can be mistaken as a dumpster given the amount of trash littered around, Sejin noticed this and said “Hm? You look like you wanna say something.”

“This place is so dirty and cluttered” Jungkook said honestly. “Not my problem. It’s on you to clean up the rest” Sejin shrugged “I’ll be leaving after I lock up each day. You’ll be alone at night, but don’t do anything stupid. I’ll throw you out if you cause any trouble. Now then. I got the gist of your situation. You protected some woman from a man forcing himself on her, he got injured, then sued you, right?” he asked rhetorically “That’s what you get for sticking your nose in a matter between two adults. You did injure him, yeah? And now that you’ve got a criminal record, you were expelled from your high school. The courts ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved. In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass. It’s best you not talk about anything unnecessary, I am in the restaurant business, you know. Behave yourself for the year. If nothing happens, your probation will be lifted. Cause any problem and you’ll be going straight to juvie.” Sejin proceeds to go down the stairs but stopped midway “By the way, we’ll be going to SOPA tomorrow. We’ll introduce ourselves properly to the staff there. There’s rarely a place that’ll accept someone like you, you know”

After Sejin left, Jungkook decided to look around the room. “Ugh. Why’s it so dirty?!” He quietly exclaimed as he drew a line on top of the desk, dust clearly evident on the table. “I cannot sleep in this kind of position, I should start cleaning up first.” And Jungkook started cleaning the room. Placing his things on the unused shelf and cleaning all the dust build up.

Without noticing it’s already evening. “Whoo. It’s late...” he said to himself as he looked outside. “It seems like I’ve been cleaning for a while. I don’t have an appetite and I’m pretty tired from all the cleaning. I should probably just go to bed.”

While laying in bed, Jungkook was notified again that there’s a new app downloaded on his phone. Looking at it he noticed that it’s the red-eye icon again. ‘Hm, it’s that weird app that somehow ended up on my phone.’ he thought ‘I thought I deleted it’ before deleting it. After a while, his eyelids were starting to get heavy.

Jungkook woke up in a dimly lit room. He noticed that as he moved there a rustling of metal, his leg was attached to a metal prison ball and his wrists were cuffed together. Getting out of the bed groggily, he looked around and found out that he’s in a prison cell wearing a black and white striped prison uniform. Extremely confused, all he can do was clutched his head and try to remember why was he here, when suddenly he heard a chuckle. A girl’s chuckle. He looked to the prison cell door and noticed two girls who looked so identical except for their hairstyle and the position of their eyepatch. They’re staring at him. Not knowing what to do he decided to approach the girls to ask a question but all they did was smile sinisterly at him.

Looking further, he noticed a man with a long nose sitting at the center of the room.

“Trickster... Welcome to my Velvet Room” The man with a long nose said.

“What? What is this place!?”

“So you’ve come to, Inmate” A malicious looking girl said.

“The you, in reality, is currently fast asleep. You are only experiencing this as a dream” The quiet looking girl informed but Jungkook was finding it hard to believe as everything looked and felt so real.

“You’re in the presence of our master. Stand up straight!” The malicious girl demanded.

“Welcome, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those who are bound by a contract may enter with the exception of one being. Will you meet her in the future Trickster? Or will you not?” The long-nosed man said while chuckling sinisterly. “I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember that well.” The long-nosed man ‘Igor’ introduced himself.

“I summoned you to speak of important matters. It involves your life as well.”

“What do you mean important matters?! Let me out!” Jungkook demanded. Igor just ignored him, looking around the room before saying “Still, this is a surprise. The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as such. You truly are a prisoner of fate. In the near future, there is no mistake that ruin awaits you.”

“What do you mean? What ruin?” Jungkook questioned Igor. Igor just chuckles before saying “Worry not. There is a means to oppose such a fate. You must be rehabilitated. Rehabilitated towards freedom, that is your only means to avoid ruin. Do you have the resolve to challenge the distortion of the world?” Igor asked, almost daring Jungkook.

Having a competitive side, Jungkook glared at him a little before saying “I don’t know, do you?” Igor just chuckled at this before saying “Ahhh a true trickster indeed. Always refusing to take down a challenge. Well, allow me to observe the path of your rehabilitation.”

Igor noticed the two girls standing outside of Jungkook’s cell. “Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others. To your right is Caroline; to your left, Justine. They serve as wardens here.”

“Hmph, try and struggle as hard as you like.” Caroline said arrogantly.

“The duty of wardens is to protect inmates. We are also your collaborators. That is if you remain obedient.” Justine tried to intimidate Jungkook.

“I shall explain the roles of these two at another occasion. Now then, it seems the night is waning. It is almost time. Take your time to slowly come to understand this place. We will surely meet again, eventually.”

Suddenly a loud siren was heard thru out the whole facility alarming Jungkook.

“Times up. Now hurry up and go back to sleep.” Caroline announced.

“Hey! Wai--”

Month: April. Day: 10 (Sunday Morning)

Jungkook woke up remembering his strange dream. “Ruin... Rehabilitation...What kind of dream was that?” he quietly questioned himself. “What the heck?! That was the weirdest dream I ever had.”

Not thinking so much about the dream, Jungkook proceeded to his morning routine and meet Sejin downstairs. “Looks like you’re up.” Sejin said as he noticed Jungkook descending the stairs. “Well then, let’s eat breakfast first and then go introduce ourselves properly to the staff about your transfer. The school you’re attending is in the Guro-gu district. It’ll cost you a bit to ride the train there, and the route transfers are a pain. I’ll drive you there, but just for today. Let’s go.”

Month: April. Day: 10 (Sunday Daytime)

Jungkook and Sejin arrived at school when Sejin suddenly stopped and turn to Jungkook before saying “Do me a favor and behave yourself, alright? Don’t get me wrong-- I don’t care what happens to you. Just don’t cause me any trouble” and then moving forward to go to the principal's room. Jungkook was left speechless by this, not knowing how to respond and a little bit hurt that everyone seems to want to get rid of him.

Inside the principal’s office, Sejin signed a few papers as he was Jungkook’s temporary guardian. “To reiterate, just so we’re clear, you will immediately be expelled if you cause any problems.” The principal informed Jungkook. “Honestly, I hesitated on accepting someone like you, but there were some circumstances on our side. You might have done a variety of things in hiding in your hometown, but you will behave yourself here. If you are thrown out from our school, there will be no place for you to go. Keep that in mind.” he continued before gesturing on a woman standing before him “This is the teacher in charge of your class.”

The teacher moved a little bit forward before bowing “I’m Hwang SooMyeon. Here’s your student ID.” She handed Jungkook his ID before continuing “Be sure to read the school rules. Any violations will send you straight to the guidance office. And, if by chance you cause any problems, I won’t be able to protect you at all.” Soomyeon sounded so uninterested and bored that made Jungkook frown a little. “But really though, why me? There should’ve been better candidates” Jungkook heard Soomyeon muttered under her breath.

Probably getting bored, Sejin decided to intervene. “If you’re done explaining things mind if we get going? I got a store to get back to.” he said.

“Sejin-shi, please keep a close eye on him. Don’t let him cause any trouble outside.” The principal reminded Sejin. “Well, I’ll be sure to have a serious talk about the situation he’s in.” Sejin answered.

A loud sighed was heaved by Soomyeon. “Come to the faculty office when you arrive at school tomorrow. I’ll show you to your classroom.” she said monotonously.

Once outside the principal’s office, Sejin let out a loud sighed similar to what Soomyeon did. “They’re treating you like some kinda nuisance. I guess that’s what it means to have a criminal record. Turns out your past follows you wherever you go.” he voiced out his opinion about Jungkook’s situation. “By the way, if you get expelled now, I won’t hesitate to kick you out. Got it?” he reminded Jungkook.

Jungkook just shrugged before saying “I’ll scrape by.”

“Tsk. Cocky little brat. You know you actually look handsome, just keep your mouth shut. Come on, we’re going home.”

While Jungkook and Sejin were leaving the school, Soomyeon and a man were having a conversation in the school’s pathway. “What a troublesome situation.” the man said to Soomyeon. Soomyeon just sighed at this “I can’t believe they pushed someone with a record on me. A male teacher would be better suited for this.”

“Why in the world was someone like that admitted here?” the man shook his head, disappointment lacing through his voice. “Who knows? It was the principal’s decision. I was told that it’s for the school’s reputation.”

“I would’ve thought that my contemporary dance team has contributed more than enough to cover that.” the man boast. “That’s certainly true.” Soomyeon agreed. “Be careful, okay? Then again, if anything were to happen, I’d kick out a student like that right away.”

“I keep wishing that he’d just end up not coming to school. Still, that isn’t something I should be saying as a teacher” Soomyeon confessed

“Well, I should be returning to practice.”

“Oh, right. The competition’s coming up, isn’t it?”

The man just grinned “Hehe, having such high expectations placed on you by others is quite a problem in itself. We’ll have to work hard to make up for the ballet team too.”

“Yes... that’s true.”

Inside the car, Sejin was drumming his fingers on the stirring wheel impatiently. “Ugh! Traffic’s not moving at all.” he complained, “You’re taking the train starting tomorrow.”

“So how was it? The school, I mean. Think you can manage?” he asked Jungkook.

“Eh, we’ll see.”

“*sigh* Do you even understand your situation? Still, you were expelled once already. To think you’d enroll at a different one. It’s not like anyone will be sympathetic with you. If that’s what it was like at school, people might say stuff about me in the future too. What a troublesome kid I’ve taken in.”

“Speaking of taking some troublesome kid... Why did you take ME in? Did you perhaps gained something out of it.” Jungkook questioned Sejin, his stare was burning holes to him.

“I was asked to do it, okay?! and I just... happened to agree to it. I’ve already been paid for it too, after all. So yeah I gained something out of this but I’m starting to think it may not be worth it.”

Their conversation was cut by the radio news report “Again, a subway has derailed at Seoul station, greatly affecting the timetable across the--”

“Another accident? So that’s why it’s so crowded. There’s been a lot of those lately.”

Month: April. Day: 10 (Sunday Evening)

“The incoming train will soon arrive at platform 1, please wait patiently and do not cross the yellow line”

Another busy day at Seoul station. People entering and exiting the train, some running while others take their time when suddenly a fast moving train continues to speed up even though it’s already in its destination causing it to derail when it turned.

People on the platform stood speechless as they stared at the train; continuing to accelerate at speeds above the limit. While the passenger freaked out and pray for their lives.

“Hey! What’s going on!?” One of the passengers asked as he keeps banging the train’s pilot door.

Little did they know, something ominous was happening inside. The train pilot seems to be in trance. Eyes all white shedding black tears, all of his veins were popping, and he’s also secreting black drool. A truly horrific scene.

From a cctv in the next station, it can be seen that the train was still speeding up and finally it totally derail and crash itself on the platform.

“That is direct footage of the incident this afternoon on Seoul station. According to the police, the train pilot’s life was not in danger and even he cannot explain the high speed of the train. No further comment was made.” The news report reiterates what happened on the subway incident.

This news was being watched by the SIU director and what seems like a prosecutor. “It’s less of an operating accident and more of a crime of the company and the government.” The SIU director said. “Site inspectors apparently reported all of this six months ago-- the deterioration of the tracks and the ATC. Seems the railway company and the Ministry of Transport both turned a blind eye to the truth. There’s no way they can hide. This will go all the way to the top.”

“With this accident, everyone is in panic and confused on what is happening. What causes such drastic change to these people.” The reporter said.

“Everything’s linked-- that’s what you’re thinking, correct?” SIU asked Prosecutor Kim. The SUI director heaved a sighed before smiling “Oh, well” he said “Are you free? You and I haven’t gone for a drink in a while.”

“Thank you, sir, but I have another meeting to attend. I must be going” Prosecutor Kim declined his offer before bowing in respect and exiting the room

At the lobby of the building, a teenager wearing a uniform and carrying a briefcase approached Prosecutor Kim. “Did you ask for me? Is it about the case?” he said to Prosecutor Kim.

“Not quite. I want your opinion on something, Hoseok”

“Sure. Your judgment is quite often correct, though.” The teenager ‘Hoseok’ said. “Can we discuss this over sushi, perhaps? You are making a student work late, after all.” Hoseok pleaded while pouting his lips on Prosecutor Kim. “Conveyor belt only.” Prosecutor Kim said firmly. “Aw...” Hoseok heaved a disappointed sighed but still followed Prosecutor Kim.

End of- First Heist: Bae KyuSoo (Chapter 1)

#bts fanfic #jungkook x reader imagines #jungkook x reader oneshot #jungkook x reader au #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bts series #jungkook oneshot #jungkook series #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fantasy au #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader fantasy au

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justanotherwannabeclassic · 5 years

Text

Ready, Set, Please Don’t Go

Killian Jones walks in on his daughter in a compromising position, leading to the realization that his little girl really is growing up.

Author’s Note: Here's another snippet set in the Finding Neverland universe. It's absolutely unnecessary to read Finding Neverland to understand this story, though readers of the original my remember a "library incident" mentioned in a chapter of this story. hat being said, this turned out way different than I expected it to go, which is the best/worst part of writing fic. I hope you all enjoy! Also, this story is dedicated to the wonderful @distant-rose, who is amazing and wonderful and a fantastic friend.

Rating: M (strong language and sexual situations)

[AO3]

XXXXXX

It starts with an admission of a high school tryst.

They’re back in Storybrooke, making the most of a long weekend away from work and research. There’s a festival going on, because somewhere over the near thirty years of the town’s existence, they’ve embraced celebrating. Juliet’s grandmother says it’s because everyone learned all too well how easy it is to lose everything. Whatever the reason, Juliet is fond of the fact that she gets to wander around various booths with his fingers twined around her boyfriend’s and enjoying the familiarity of coming home.

Juliet likes to think she’s come a long way since she was the girl who left Storybrooke for New York City four years ago. She has a degree and a license that actually says she’s twenty-one, but it’s more than that. She likes to think she’s matured, and though she has no inclinations of returning back to her hometown anytime soon, she now embraces the coziness of it all. And, well, the girl of four years ago never would have imagined holding hands with Gideon Gold as they traipsed down Main Street, happy and deliriously in love.

They’d only been in the same school for a year, her a freshman and he a senior, but he Juliet Jones of Storybrooke High hadn’t been particularly kind to Gideon. She’d been a little too conscious of their respective places in the high school caste system. Even as a freshman, she’d been fawned over by her classmates as a member of the Charming family, The Savior’s daughter, and Henry’s sister. The son of the Dark One didn’t warrant the same favor. It was only once they were both in New York, she starting at Columbia and him finishing up his degree at NYU, that they’d begun to forge a closer relationship, and later, a romantic one.

She supposes his loner nature and her role as the school’s “princess” only furthers the cliche nature of their relationship. When they had made it public they were dating, Neal had monologued the opening lines of Romeo and Juliet. (“Two families both alike in dignity, in fair Storybrooke we build our scene…” “I hope you realize this means you die too, asshole.”) They might as well add the damn John Hughes movie to the list.

But it doesn’t matter. They’re happy, in love, and openly together in Storybrooke.

They’re in line for cotton candy, Gideon whispering into her ear about the unhealthiness of eating pure sugar, when they bump into old friend hers from high school, Viola. It’s not unexpected. Most people don’t leave Storybrooke or choose to come back to Storybrooke, after all, and they exchange pleasantries.

“How are you liking the big city? I don’t think I could deal with that many people. The traffic alone…”

“That’s what the MTA is for,” Juliet replies with a laugh. To be honest, her friendship with Viola had been one that drifted after she left for Columbia. It was one that Juliet now realizes was born out of proximity and not very many common interests. “But, seriously, it’s great. We’re really happy.” She flashes a grin up Gideon.

He returns her grin with one of his own. God, she loves his smile. “I dunno, I’m pretty damn miserable.”

“A miserable liar, maybe.” Juliet turns her attention back to Viola, who is watching them with an incredulous expression. Maybe this isn’t what Viola expected of the Juliet of four years ago. Maybe it’s not what she would have expected either. Knowing the conversation will only grow more stitled from there, Juliet focuses on what Viola clearly wants her to notice. With exaggerated excitement she doesn’t feel, she asks, “Holy shit! Is that a ring?”

Viola waves her left hand, where a diamond sits. “Yes, Aidan proposed! You’ll have to come back up for the wedding. We’re thinking next April.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” To be honest, Juliet hadn’t known Viola was even dating Aidan. Oh well. Thankfully, they’re saved from more conversation by the cotton candy. They bid their farewells, and go their separate ways.

“Are we seriously going to go her wedding?” Gideon asks once they’re far enough out of earshot. He steals a bite of her cotton candy -- the hypocritical bastard -- before saying, “I wouldn’t really mind, but I only have the vaguest idea of who she is.”

“God, no,” Juliet replies, instantly regretting how mean she sounds. But, she has a reason. “Honestly, even if we had said more than ten sentences to each since graduation, it would be a little awkward. The last time I saw Aidan, he’d just finished fingering me in sci-fi section of the library. It’s weird to go to the wedding of guys you hit third base with, right?” She shudders at the memory.

Gideon stops abruptly. “Wait, what?” He looks surprised, and honestly, a little annoyed.

“Oh, God, please don’t turn this into a thing.” Gideon unfortunately has a slight jealous streak when it comes to her. It’s not overbearing, thankfully, but it’s present enough to annoy her every now and then. She attributes it mostly to his low self-esteem brought by half the town assuming he’s turn evil as an adult coupled with the way she’d dated every guy but him the year leading up to them finally getting together. She understands where he is coming from, really, but she doesn’t have to like it.

“I’m not turning this into a thing. That’s not it, not entirely,” he amends. “But, seriously, the library?”

“Oh, this is about defiling books .”

He laughs, almost hysterically. “Not quite, no.”

“Then what is it?” She takes a bite of the cotton candy, and delights in the way his eyes track the movement of tongue as she traces her lips for any errant sugar.

He begins to lead her away from the crowd, and his voice lowers. “Remember that time we listed our fantasies?”

She hums in reply. She remembers it well, and still benefits from it too.

“Let’s just say teenage Gideon would have killed to be fingering a pretty girl in the library.” His cheeks are an enjoyable shade of red. He’s always a little embarrassed when talking publicly about sex. Back when they were ‘just friends’, his exploits were something that rarely ever came up, even though she’d been less discreet about hers.

“And what about adult Gideon?”

“What about adult Gideon?”

“It’s after six. The library is closed, and you have a pretty girl who is just about to finish her cotton candy and will soon be wondering just what she can be getting up to later.” She quirks her brow for emphasis. “So what would adult Gideon say we do?”

She’s always been a bit reckless. She enjoys the rush of adrenaline, and sees caution as a suggestion. Gideon’s her opposite in that regard, which is why she can’t contain her gleeful laugh as he more or less drags her to the library at a half-jog. She knows she could magic them there, but this gets her heart pounding in a way that magic does not.

In no time at all, they’re in the library — she bites back a laugh at his attempts to unlock the door — and her back is against the wall as Gideon’s mouth fuses to hers. It’s times like these where she wishes she had gotten over herself enough for them to come together sooner. As much as Gideon had been quiet about his sexploits, he’d picked up some skill. And where he lacked, he certainly made up by being a quick study. “You’re amazing,” he tells her. He lifts his hand, and brushes he strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into his palm.”Do I tell you that enough?”

“You do.” She runs her hands over the front of his shirt, and begins to toy with the buttons. With a teasing smirk, she adds, “Though, to be fair, you mostly tell me when I’m in a state of undress...or about to be.”

“I’ll be sure to rectify that...later.” She squeals when he pulls away from her, only to lift her into his arms. He quickly maneuvers them to the collections desk, and drops her on top of it. Goosebumps form over her skin as his hands span up her bare thighs, and she relishes in the way his warm breath fans across the skin of her face. “This okay?”

“It’s totally okay.” Any other quips she might think to say are lost when he lips close over the most sensitive spot on her neck, sendling shocks of pleasure down her spine. She gasps, her hands carding through his hair as she tilts her neck for easier access. His hands skate over her shorts and work their way under her shirt. Her skin burns hot as his palms burn over the smooth expanse, and she sighs.

They break apart long enough for both of them to remove their shirts. She thinks he breaks a button in his eagerness to remove his top, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest, enjoying the sight of shirtless male in front of her. He’s not incredibly muscular, but he’s toned enough -- and god, his collarbones. She pays particular attention to that part of his body first, eagerly nipping. As she leans forward, his hand slip over her ass, pulling her closer and squeezing as he goes. They move together, their pants dulling the sensation and doing nothing to hide his ardor for her.

She loves the power that comes with sex, the thrill of slowly making her partner come undone -- and that is what drives her next course of action. After all, she knows of know better way to make a man come undone. He groans when she pulls away, the brokeness bringing a smile to her face. She places a finger against his lips as she dismounts from the desk. He nips at the pad of her index finger as she reverses their positions. “What are you planning?”

“Something that will blow teenage Gideon’s mind.”

Juliet drops to her knees.

-/-

There are sacrifices one makes for their children.

Some are small, like the last piece of pie. Others are larger sacrifices, such as dedicating everything you can in you to ensuring your child has the best life. Killian Jones, of course, makes these sacrifices willingly, and most of the time, happily. Ever since the day that the doctor placed a squawking infant -- his daughter -- into his arms, Killian Jones knew that he’d do everything in his power to make her smile. Decades later, he likes to think he’s done a decent enough job. Juliet is happy and healthy, and has the confidence to leave the comfort of Storybrooke and chart a course of her own. And, despite her being an adult, he’ll continue doing what he’s able to ensure her happiness.

However, there are some sacrifices that try his patience -- such as being friendly with the Crocodile.

Over the course of two decades, he and the Dark One have kept their distances. They’ll be cordial at functions that they’re both in attendance, and he’ll never disparage the man around Belle. He values his friendship with her too much for that. Truthfully speaking, over the years, no one has ever truly required them to go out of their way to be in the same place.

Ah, but then his daughter fell in love with the Dark One’s son, and expectations had been formed.

“I know you all have bad blood, but can you at least try? For me?” Juliet had asked him. He can’t blame her for doing such a thing. He’d shield her from much of his history with the Crocodile. She knows enough -- he remembers with stunning clarity the afternoon he’d explained to her, just five and infinitely curious, why the name ‘Milah’ was tattooed on his wrist -- but both he and Emma had intentionally agreed to leave out the gorier details of his life. Her basic knowledge cannot compared to the memories of living in the thick of it all.

Which is why, shortly after Juliet had made that request of him, he had mused to Emma in the comfort of their own bed, “Perhaps they’ll break up.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon. This one’s different,” Emma had replied, and that much they knew to be true. Killian had seen that boys that had captured Juliet’s interest over the years -- all of them unworthy of her, in his opinion -- and it’s true that this one felt different. “Besides, if things do go south, you don’t want that heartbreak for her.”

“No, you’re right,” he’d replied. He remembers pulling Emma closer to him, and whispering in her hair, “I’m beginning to understand your father’s perspective a bit more when you began courting me.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

And it is because he doesn’t want to make life harder for his daughter -- he knows well enough the benefits of a smooth relationship with the in-laws -- Killian puts on his best smile and acts even friendlier with the Crocodile. Though they’ve never explicitly discussed the matter, Killian suspects that Gideon had made the same request of his own father, as the Crocodile has not made one snide comment or appeared surprised at whatever warming relationships they might have.

Belle, at the very least, seems happy about the turn of events. And he can’t deny that Gideon is a good young man, a far cry from the tortured soul who had attempted to kill Emma decades ago. (Killian still has nightmares of their wedding night, of watching the sword drive into Emma’s gut.) But he can’t hold that against Belle’s son. He’d be hypocritical at best, especially considering the respectable person he’s since grown into. Besides, there’s no denying that Gideon looks at Juliet like she’s the moon and stars, and his daughter is quite happy with him.

Which, unfortunately, means he’s on a quest with the Crocodile to retrieve a box of books from the library for a booth at the festival. They library had been going through the process of culling its selection, weeding out extra copies of no longer popular tomes so there would be space for current interests. Belle had concocted a plan to set up a booth to give away the books, and had asked Killian and her husband to fetch a couple of boxes she’d left behind.

He honestly thinks this is a plan of Belle’s to get the two of them to talk more, to further bury the hatchet at the request of their children. The Dark One certainly has the power to poof the boxes. (He has made an effort to use magic less over the years, something Killian will not complain about.) She might have also asked Emma for help, but he’s pretty sure his wife is also in on the scheme.

In the effort of trying , he and the Dark One -- Gold -- exchange in small talk, but it is stilted and awkward. Which is possibly why the conversation dovetails into talking about their children, an easy topic for any proud parent.

“Gideon tells me that Juliet graduated cum laude? I’ll have to extend my congratulations to all of her hard work.”

“Aye. She did excellently. Emma and I are quite proud.” He already has a picture from her graduation day of the three of them sitting on the mantle -- Juliet clad in her regalia, smiling broadly while flanked by her parents. Gideon had been the one to take the picture. “I imagine you are too, with Gideon studying to be a doctor.”

“We are.” The Crocodile’s expression morphs into one that Killian knows all too well -- the sort of look one gets when they can’t quite believe they had a part in raising someone good. “It’s astounding to think that he’ll be completing medical school next year. It seems like yesterday he was just learning to walk.”

“I know the feeling all too well.” He hates how much he relates to Gold at the moment. Emma has occasionally commented how fatherhood has mellowed them both over the years, but Killian doesn’t want to bond over it. The things we do for our children.

But, at the same time, he cannot deny that Gold is wrong. Killian Jones has lived hundreds of years, but none have passed by as quickly as those since Juliet’s birth. In what feels like the blink of an eyes, she’s gone from being a wee babe to a child to a teenager and now an adult. Hadn’t it been just yesterday that she had been stumbling over her consonants as he taught her how to read?

“Those nights when she would keep Emma and I up all night, I remember wishing that time would pass quickly. Now I find myself wishing I could turn back the time and go back.”

“After what happened with my sorry excuse of a mother, I learned not to take any time with Gideon for granted,” Gold replies darkly.

Killian’s first reaction is to consider it a slight, an implication that he somehow has taken his daughter’s childhood for granted, but his cooler head prevails. He recalls how scarred Belle had been during the mess with the Black Fairy, and how even after Gideon back she had barely left him out of her sight. If the same thing had happened to Juliet…

It’s a thought that kept him awake many nights during Emma’s pregnancy. Storybrooke and normal pregnancies or childbirth rarely went hand-in-hand back in those days, and certainly not for their family. He’d be plagued by nightmares full of villains from his past -- men he’d crossed or wronged -- sneaking into his home and doing harm to his child with him unable to save her.

They’d been lucky, with Juliet. She’d been safe and sound. There had been villains since then, but she’d been mostly safe. Nothing like what Gold and Belle had gone through with Gideon, or David and Snow with Emma. For once, Killian Jones had been the blessed one. He tries not to let himself forget it.

He and the Crocodile don’t talk much after that, not until after they’ve worked their way through the crowd and arrive at the library.

“Where did Belle say she left the boxes?”

“By the circulation desk.” Gold pulls the keys to the library out of his pocket before he suddenly stops. Killian glances over the other man’s shoulder to see why, before noticing the slightly ajar doors. By Killian’s estimation, it seems as someone had simply let the door close behind them, not realizing that they hadn’t shut completely. “I know I locked this earlier.”

“It’s not the first time someone has broken into the library. Probably some horny or drunk youths looking for a quiet space and a good time.” How many times had he or Emma busted people sneaking into the library for a good time over the years? It’s turned into almost a rite of passage amongst the teens. Though he understands the thrill of breaking-and-entering, Killian doesn’t quite understand why the library is the chosen location. He’s crossed Belle enough times to know that is a spectacularly bad idea. “They probably thought the festival would be a good distraction.”

“And now they’re about to find themselves caught by the Dark One and Captain Hook. I almost pity them.”

Killian highly doubts that this is what any of the women is his life hoped for when it came to bonding with Gold. This certainly isn’t what he envisioned, but he’ll take it. Terrible as it might be, he takes certain enjoyment in knowing just how terrified whomever is in there will be when they realize just who they’ve been caught by. Quietly, Gold pushes open the library door and they creep inside the building. Once inside, they can clearly hear low moans and the slick sound of--

“Oh fuck---ohmygod!”

-/-

Juliet is hiding. She’s admittedly doing a poor job of it, because her hiding place is the back porch swing of her childhood home. In her defense, no one had been home when she’d come back. Now, however, the lights are one and she can hear the obscured voices of her parents. (She can barely make out the words “shower” and “tired”, if she strains.) Thankfully, they haven’t come to look for her. She wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at her father in the eyes again. She’s already formulating a plan for sneaking out before breakfast -- or maybe pretending to sleep until after he leaves for work.

Until she is sure her parents have convalesced themselves upstairs, she’ll continue hiding outside on the back on the back porch swing -- how many summer nights did she spend out here growing up? She had attempted to distract herself from her complete and utter mortification by attempting to read, but the exploits of Natasha Rostova weren’t enough to ebb away her embarrassment. Now, she just sits and stews, swaying back and forth on the swing.

She wishes Gideon were here. After a minor freakout --

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Worse than that time you got stabbed in Agrabah?”

“Yes! I got healed from being stabbed! My dad caught be going down on my boyfriend. How do you come back from this?”

-- she and Gideon had decided to go their separate ways for the rest of the night. The mood had effectively been killed, and they had already agreed to spend the night at their respective childhood homes . She now wishes he were here, however, if only to give her a hug and share the mortification together. The text messages from him, of which there are many, are hardly sufficient. Besides, she hardly even wants to look at her phone anymore, not since she made a mistake of telling Neal, who has sent her three texts that consist of “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” written over ad nauseum . Jerk.

Beyond embarrassment, she’s also incredibly disappointed in herself. The Juliet of four years ago had never been caught involved in illicit acts. Had she been caught vomiting into a bush after a night of underage drinking? Sure, but at least she’d been clothed and not hooking up with anyone. Has she fallen so far? Has living in New York eroded her sense in Storybrooke? The Juliet of four years ago would have insisted to sneak deeper into the library to fool around.

One thing’s for sure: I am never doing this in Storybrooke again.

She picks up her book again, and thumbs to the dog-eared page. Her adamant refusal to use a bookmark drives Gideon up the walls -- “Books are sacred, J.” The thought of him, and his exasperation, warms her heart and she makes a note to call him once she’s sure her parents are asleep. Slinking further into the swing, she attempts to read a bit more. It’s a mostly futile effort, and she’s about to give up when she is startled by the creak of the back door porch opening. She winces when she sees her father slide through.

“Hi.”

“Hullo, Cygnet.”

Juliet readjusts herself in the swing, swinging her legs to the ground so that he could sit beside her. She doesn’t meet his eyes when he sits down. She takes a deep breath, bracing for whatever lecture is bound to come, wishing he had somehow gotten the memo that this was something that they weren’t going to talk about. She had hoped that she and Gideon had gotten off the proverbial hook in that regard when her father and Mr. Gold had disappeared immediately after catching them, but apparently not.

“I’m guessing you’re not coming out here because you wanted to see the stars?”

“It’s a touch too overcast for that tonight, darling,” he replies, and there’s humor in his voice, but it is strained. God, this is the worst. “I wished for us to have a chat, not matter how awkward it might be.”

“Or we could pretend it never happened. I prefer that option.”

“When you were a toddler, you preferred to not wear clothes, so you stripped yourself in the middle of Granny’s, waving your dirty diaper as a victory flag. And yet your mother and I still dressed you,” her father replies, and he has the audacity to wink at her.

“Okay, that is so not fair.” It’s a story she’s heard maybe a hundred times by this point, but it makes her cringe every time. Why was she such an awkward child?

“I’ve learned from experience that life, unfortunately, isn’t fair.”

“Now you’re getting angsty,” she says. She’s being difficult. Juliet knows this, but she really doesn’t want to talk about whatever if on her father’s mind. She already feels terrible enough. “Dad, seriously, can we just forget today ever happened?”

“Trust me when I say I do, and after you and I have a chat, we can.”

“Dad, I’m an adult. We were just being dumb, okay?” Juliet feels like a teenager again, getting caught after staying out past curfew. But, to be fair, this is perfectly in character for her father. Years ago after a party, he’d caught her stumbling around clearly drunk. The next day he’d given her a lecture about the importance of staying safe while inebriated. “We’ll be more responsible from now on. Trust me when I say that no one involved wants a repeat of that. Ever.”

“That’s good. That’s good.” He runs his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I want to discuss.”

“Oh.” They sit like that for a moment, listening the sound of summer bugs and the creak of the swing swaying back and forth. When their respective awkward silence feels unbearable, Juliet asks, “So what did you want to talk about then?”

“As you’ve mentioned you’re an adult, and I have no bearing on telling you what you can and cannot do.” He takes a deep breath and looks up. “But now that you’re an adult, you are making adult choices and are finding yourself in adult situations.”

“Mom already gave me the sex talk in high school.” Her mother had been incredibly thorough with the sex talk, no doubt influenced by her own harrowing experience with teenage pregnancy. While she had done an excellent job discussing the different forms of birth control, Juliet had walked away so scarred by everything else that she’d done everything but penetrative sex until she had started college for fear of getting pregnant before her finishing her high school degree. “I know how to be safe. We’ve been tested. I have an IUD.”

Juliet winces at her explanation. Even though she’s veering into TMI territory -- her father knowing her current form of birth control does not top the ‘need to know’ list -- she wants to express to him that the earlier encounter had been a bit of fun and that she’s actually a responsible adult when it comes to these things.

“I’m glad you are aware of those things.” He runs his hand through his hair again. It’s also something Juliet does when she’s stressed. Both her mother and Gideon have commented on it. Unsure if it is a nature or nurture thing, she chalks it up to simply being Killian Jones’ daughter. “I just also want you to be aware that just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you have to if you. If you ever feel uncomfortable doing something, you can say no. You don’t need to...you don’t need to consent to an action simply because your partner--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Gideon didn’t force me into doing anything. Holyshit, he’s not that kind of guy. I’m the one-- it was my idea, okay? He’s not some creep who would force me into that. This is not the time for that PSA.” Juliet pushes herself from the swing, turning to face her father. She’s angry and hurt and how could he even imply…? “Is it because of what we were doing? Newsflash, Dad, women can like giving head. Women can like sex. And I know this might be hard to hear, but I like sex. What you walked in on? That was me doing what I enjoy doing with my partner.”

To call her furious would be an understatement. She wonders how her father could even think that about Gideon. Gideon, who is the nicest person she knows. Gideon, who is so afraid of everything thinking he’s just another villain because of his last name. The implication that he would be the one forcing her, or that she would be so easily coerced boils her blood. And for it to come from her father?

She turns to leave -- to where, she doesn’t know -- but her father is up in an instant and following her. He gently takes hold of her arm, stopping her at the door. “Juliet, sweetheart, wait.”

“What, so you can imply my boyfriend is some asshole who forces me into sex?”

“No, so I can better explain what I was trying to say,” he tells her. Juliet doesn’t move at first, but he gradually leads her back to the swing. “It was not my intention to imply at Gideon was that sort of man. I honestly don’t think he is. I was talking about relationships the in general and not him specifically.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m doing a train on the hockey team.” Her father winces. She thinks it serves him right. “I’m kind of a big believer in monogamy.”

“That’s...that’s something. But even with the people we love, it’s easy for us to feel like we should do things that we normally wouldn’t want to do. And I don’t mean this situation specifically, but in relationships as a whole. I want you to know that it’s okay to say no,” he says gently. “You don’t ever have to do something you don’t want.”

“Again, I wanted to.”

“So you said.” He bites his lip and looks down. “I also want you to know that if you want to do something that your partner doesn’t, you should respect their decision, as well.”

“I know.”

“It’s easy to say when you’re not in the situation. And if you think your desires outweigh their own. And I’m not simply talking about what one might get into in their bedchambers, or libraries as it were. It extends to hospitals, how you raise your children, end of life care…” He trails off, before shaking his head. He turns so he can fully face her. “Juliet, darling, you’re growing up and making so many decisions, and now you’re making them now with a partner. I love you, more than anything you can comprehend, which is why I’m telling you these things. Adulthood isn’t simple, and strong emotions makes it even more difficult. What I’m trying, rather poorly it seems, is to say that it’s okay to communicate your desires, just as it is for he to communicate his, but both of you can say no and the other needs to respect it, aye?”

She’s unprepared to deal with the intensity of his speech. She’s been unprepared for a lot that has happened today, and she wants to deal with none of it. So she nods her head. “Yeah. Okay. Communicate. Have adult conversations. Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” He looks taken aback at her response. She regrets her, but he’s already up and walking to the door. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

And then he’s gone, and Juliet feels like the worst person ever.

“You aren’t the worst person ever,” Gideon tells her later that night, after she creeps into the house and back to her childhood bedroom. “Maybe a bit short. As much as I appreciate you defending my honor, based on what he said I don’t think he was meaning it that way. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part.”

“I don’t know, I think he was trying to do the ‘Dad’ thing and make it like a sitcom feel-good moment.” In the immediate aftermath, once she had cooled off and really registered what her father had been saying, she had realized that maybe he hadn’t been implying what she thought he had. “And I yelled at him and then blew him off. I mean, he was being a bit weird about it with the sex stuff, but...I don’t know.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you think I should do about it?”

“That’s not my call, babe,” he says gently. She hears a rustle over the line as he shifts in the bed. She wishes she were there with him, if only so she could feel the comfort of his warmth around her. “You know your dad. Do what you think is best.”

She just has to figure out what that means.

-/-

Emma is waiting for him in bed when he clambers into their bedchamber. Her hair, now wet, is pulled into a braid and she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, but she still looks stunning. She closes the book she had been reading, and gives him a sympathetic look. “I heard yelling.”

“You heard correctly.” He strips off his clothes and brace, for once not bothering to fold them neatly into the hamper. Deciding not to wear his pajama pants, he crawls into bed and takes his spot besides his wife. “I’m not sure how well that conversation went.”

“I told you wait until morning.” Emma pokes him in the chest. “She’s mortified now. Nothing you said was going to register.”

“I didn’t want the moment to pass.” He interlocks his fingers with hers, and kisses her knuckles. “I’m afraid if I had waited until the morning, she would have snuck out. I’m not convinced she still won’t.”

“That does sound like our daughter.” They re-adjust themselves under the blankets so that Emma is laying on his chest. Killian feels his heart rate, previously pounding, slow as he succumbs to the comfort of her presence. “Even if it didn’t go well, I’m proud of you. You pushed past any awkwardness to have a real conversation with your kid.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. She accused me of implying her boyfriend was an abuser.”

“She also apparently likes sex,” Emma adds, humor evident in her tone.

“Don’t remind me.”

“You kinda of walked into that last one, buddy.” He feels Emma traces nonsense into his chest. It tickles, but he allows her to continue. She grounds him, that wife of his, keeping him afloat in the wild storm of his emotions.

“I walked into a lot of things today.” Things he would very much like to forget, regardless of what he told Juliet. He wonders if he might be able to convince Gold to whip them up a memory potion. He thinks the Dark One might agree.

“Yeah, I don’t envy you.”

“You are taking far too much joy in this situation.”

“What can I say, babe? It was a long time coming. Remember when mom walked in on us?”

“Which time?”

“Exactly.”

He laughs, but he doesn’t quite find the humor in the situation. He’s too caught up thinking about all the things he did wrong while talking to Juliet than right tonight. It had been easier when she was younger, far less prone to lash out. Back then, of course, the lessons hadn’t felt some complicated or embarrassing. Perhaps he misses that too, her willingness to listen and the faith that the advice he was imparting was done with her best interest at heart.

But that’s not how it works anymore, is it? She’s her own person. One who apparently likes sex and fools around with her partner in public spaces. And he doesn’t mind, not really, but today had been a stark reminder that she’s not his little girl anymore. He hadn’t been prepared for this part of fatherhood.

“Killian?” Emma says after a lifetime of silence. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. And you want to know how I know it is?” Emma moves that her chin is now resting on his chest. He catches a glint in her green eyes. “Because we’ve been down this road before, and everything turned out fine. Our daughter still comes home.”

“Why does it feel different than before?” he asks. Emma is correct, this isn’t the first time either of them have had a less than ideal encounter with their daughter. He still cringes when he thinks of the slammed doors and eye rolls from her teenage years.

“Because I think this is the first time it’s really sunk in for you that our baby isn’t a baby anymore.” Her words are a heavy weight on his chest as he considers them. Objectively, he recognizes that Juliet is an adult. She’s done well for herself living away from home and completing her studies. She hasn’t starved. But, Emma isn’t necessarily wrong either, and the incident earlier is a reminder of just how much she’s grown.

“You know, earlier I was telling the Crocodile I wished I could turn back time to when she was small. She used to be no longer than my forearm, do you remember that?” He’d been so delicate with her, so afraid of damaging something so small and precious to him.

“Of course I remember that.” Emma smiles fondly, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “Remember those bows my mom got her? The ones with flowers bigger than her face?”

“She would scream every time one of us tried to put it on.”

“You singing sea shanties was one of the only ways to get her to sleep.”

“Aye.” Tired as he had been, Killian cherished those moments he had with his infant daughter. She would be curled up on his chest as he rocked in a chair and hummed her his favorite songs. He felt special, being one of the only people who could calm her down. “I miss it.”

“I know, babe, but we’ve got a lot of new memories ahead of us.” Emma stretches up, leaving him feeling bereft, as she reaches to shut off the lamp. As his eyes attempt to adjust to the light, he feels her settle more firmly into her side of the bed. Unwilling to let her go quite yet, he turns to his side and wraps his arm around her waist.

“You were right about one thing, though.”

“Just one?”

“Hush,” he teases. “This one is different. Gideon, I mean.”

“And what makes you say that?”

Emma is goading him, but he doesn’t care. “You should have seen the fire in her eyes when she thought I was accusing him of being untoward. I’ve never seen her so defensive of anything or anyone in her life.”

“She’s in love.”

“Aye, she’s in love.”

Killian allows that sentiment to close out the night, and lets the evenness of Emma’s breaths slowly lull him to sleep. In the morning, he awakens to the sounds of someone rattling around the kitchen and the smell of pancakes wafting upstairs. He dresses quickly, pulling on the previously ignored pajama pants and a t-shirt before padding down the stairs. He expects to find Emma at the oven, but instead she is sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee. She casts him a knowing look and tilts her head to where their daughter is pouring batter into a sizzling skillet.

“Smells amazing, Cygnet.”

“Thanks, I made ‘em from scratch.” As the pancakes cook, she points with a spatula to a plate waiting for him. “You should get them while they’re hot.”

“As the lady insists.” He exchanges glances with Emma as he takes a plate of pancakes and settles into a chair. Rarely is Juliet ever awake this early on her own volition, let alone the one to making breakfast. After taking a few bites, he says, “These are excellent.”

“Thanks. I’ve been trying to learn how to cook, and ta-da.” Juliet flashes a wide smile -- Emma’s smile -- before turning back to her pancakes. Killian holds off on eating the rest, waiting until Juliet settles at the table with a plate of her own food and a glass of orange juice, extra pulp .

Emma excuses herself under the guise of needing to put on makeup, an obvious lie if he ever heard one. However, he can’t fault his wife for engineering an excuse for him and Juliet to be alone. His anxiety from the night before has slowly begun to ebb away knowing that his daughter did, in fact, not sneak out or intentionally sleep in to avoid him. She’s here and having breakfast. It’s the best he can ask for.

“What else are you learning how to cook?” he inquires, because he genuinely wants to know. This is a part of Juliet’s life he hadn’t initially been privy to with her living in New York. He’s eager to learn more.

“This and that. I make a mean pumpkin pasta sauce. If I’m up in the fall, maybe I can make it for you and Mom?”

“There’s nothing we would like more.” The hardest part of her growing older has been her absence. He’s proud that she has the confidence to leave home and forge a path of her own, but he misses her terribly. David had lucked out with both of his children living nearby. Killian has to settle for the occasional visit, mirror chats, or phone calls. The fact that she’s talking about visiting in a few months is a godsend.

She tells him more about the recipes she is learning how to cook -- caramel pie, enchiladas, various stews. He’s impressed, and he tells her as much.

“A girl’s gotta eat,” Juliet answers with a shrug. She pushes around some of the remaining pancakes on her plate. “Hey, Dad? About last night…”

He opens his mouth to apologize. Not for what he said, but instead for not yet coming to terms with her adulthood. Juliet, however, doesn’t allow him to finish. “Thanks for caring about me and everything.”

“You never need to thank me for that. I’m your father.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” she replies. He cheeks flush, and she pushes a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. “And, I didn’t say it last night, but I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Cygnet.”

Killian chooses not to press for any conversation surrounding last night anymore. He recognizes an olive branch when he sees one, and Emma’s advice about waiting is stilling lingering at the back of his mind. Instead, he asks his daughter her plans about the rest of weekend, and suggests that if they have time, her and Gideon should join he and Emma on the Jolly for a sunset cruise -- an olive branch of your own to say that he doesn’t actually hate her boyfriend.

“I’ll have to check, but that sounds fun,” she tells him.

Later, when they’re at station, Killian tells Emma all of this. He watches as her smile grows wider with each addition to the story, culminating on the tentative sailing excursion.

“I told you she would cool off.”

“To be honest, I’m a little surprised she did so quickly.” Since Juliet has inherited his temper, he had feared she would inherit his ability to hold a grudge. She certainly did when she was younger. As a teenager, she had perfected the silent treatment in a way that’s almost impressive. (For those not on the receiving end.”)

Emma simply gives him another one of her smiles and peck on the lips. “Well, yeah, our baby is growing up.”

He mutters something that sounds like agreement before giving his wife a kiss and returning to his work. He’s still not fond of his daughter being an adult, an absurd thought for something so inevitable and expected. But she’s happy. That’s what matters in the end.

#ouat ff #cs ff #captain swan #s writes fic #s writes finding neverland

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puttingfingerstokeys · 5 years

Text

retirement fund

Nanowrimo day 18 Featuring Allister Corsiva and Mathias Carver (OCs) and a Nasty cameo Dark urban fantasy, vampires Original world with the lovely @dangerduchess Unfinished and unedited

“Darkstar CS-6, report.” The head of the council’s personal, human disposal squad stood before her subordinates, sharp eyes on each one, measuring them up and down and finding each wanting. But that was her way. They were used to it. No one flinched.

“Ma’am,” came the response from their leader, a beanpole of a man with a baseball cap, a profusion of tattoos, and a look of unapologetic insolence which radiated outward from him without having said a thing beyond acknowledging he’d been called to attention. “All unauthorized siring has been eliminated, target and progeny. Ma’am.”

“Good enough, Carver. Take your squad and get some rest. I’d give you downtime if I could.” Her face was a mask, passive and unimpressed, but again, that was simply her way. Cull Squad Six was the best Darkstar had to offer, was given only the most difficult jobs, and had never lost a man. They saluted and, with a sharp about-face, relieved themselves of her presence.

“We stayin’ on site?” One of the members asked the one called Carver.

“Yeah,” he responded, a little sourly once they were out of earshot, “you heard ‘er. We’re on-call.”

“We’re always on-call,” complained another, tossing their hands in the air. Carver shooed everyone off. Only one member stayed nearby, a tall man with angular features, dark hair, and eyes bluer than the sky.

“You gunna bitch too, Superstar?” It was not clear if this nickname was flattery or derogatory. That the man did not react to it suggested little. The corner of his mouth twitched minutely, but other than that, he remained impassive.

“No reason to,” he said finally with the light trace of an accent, possibly English. “I’m married to m’job.”

He had a mumbling way of speaking which might have been difficult to parse, were Carver less accustomed to dealing with it. He and his team had been hunting together for a few years now, however. They moved as a well-oiled machine, almost as if they were one cohesive being. Everyone was pivotal to this machine and communication was vital. When it had become clear this particular teammate had neither the intention nor, perhaps, the ability to change his speech patterns, the team simply adjusted.

“Ah, the ol’ ball-and-chain argument,” Carver shot back, seeing if he could get a rise out of the man. He could not.

“Y’know… sortuva… death do us part deal,” confirmed the man, rubbing the side of his prominent nose with his ring and middle finger. He looked as if he had not slept in days, but Carver thought nothing of it. That was just the way he looked.

“And she doesn’t even put out,” lamented Carver dramatically. “C’mon, let’s get some chow.”

They walked side-by-side down the hall of the Darkstar headquarters, feeling the crushing weight of all that earth above them and pretending it did not bother them. The building was positioned deep underground, facilitating easy transport here and there for their patrons, a powerful group of vampires known as the Council. Working for vampires and hunting them had seemed like an impossible concept at first, but as time wore on, the need for it and the reasoning behind it became clear.

Vampires, as it happened, had laws of their own. Those laws needed to be carried out and upheld by someone. In the case of the death of fellow vampires, one of those laws was that vampires were not permitted to harm their brethren. The law said nothing of the human kill teams that were sent in to break up illegal siring activities, more often than not ending the reign of a particularly bloodlust-filled upstart who decided they were too good for the rules.

Bloodsuckers wanna pretend they’re playing nice, so they put a stake in my hand, Carver thought bitterly, heedless and uncaring of the presence of any telepaths in the area, that’s just fucking fine. He, like all the other Darkstar hunters, had a personal bone to pick with vampires, in general. That some of them were funding his very pronounced bloodlust and hatred for their kind mattered little to him, or to them. The situation was ideal. He was not allowed to kill without restriction, but the Council kept Darkstar well-supplied with missions. There was always some minor, despotic vampire who styled themselves a lord or baroness, feeding indiscriminately and siring with reckless abandon, flouting this law or that, in need of culling.

Even the word “cull” came across as pretentious, as if it sought to disguise itself. Call it what it is, Carver thought to himself. Contract killings, right? On the other hand, something that was not alive could not be killed, could it? He thought about this a few moments as he and his companion moved down the hall toward the sounds and smells of the 24-hour cafeteria, generously provided by their employers and manned by vampires on the council’s shit-list, or so Carver thought.

“Mathias,” his companion grunted, touching his elbow and gesturing. “There’s Nasty’s squad… most of ‘em anyway.”

Carver—Mathias being his first name—craned his neck to see around his companion’s tall, narrow frame and hissed through his teeth. “Yeesh,” he added after a moment, “like they’ve been through a fuckin’ meat grinder, huh Al’?”

The one called Al’, likely short for something, nodded but did not allow his eyes to linger. In fact, he was even now doing his best to steer Mathias away from the four hunters who evidently remained of the 4th Cull Squad. Their leader, a tall, lanky fellow with a 1980s aesthetic rivaled not even by the 80s themselves, sat at a table with his three fellows, saying nothing, making quick work of dinner, but clearly not enjoying it.

They were still spattered with gore, but no one said a thing to them about it. No one but Mathias—or he attempted. With preternatural speed, his partner—whose full name was Allister—snagged his arm and tugged him forcefully toward one corner of the room. Mathias protested.

“They’ve been through the shit, mate,” warned Allister, whose Down Under accent made itself known as he hiss-whispered at his friend. “Don’t push it.”

Mathias cursed vehemently and creatively under his breath, but did not defy the wisdom of his compatriot. Instead, they turned their attention to dinner. The menu was varied, high-quality, and always fresh.

“Darkstar,” Mathias crowed, “where every meal is your last.”

“…it isn’t death row, y’know,” Allister pointed out, examining an apple and then biting into it. He relished the flavor like a man who had not tasted such rich fair in his entire life.

“Not with that attitude,” Mathias shot back, choosing macaroni and cheese. Allister rolled his eyes at the fare on the man’s plate. It was a mystery how Mathias was still so slender, given what he ate. He really did treat every meal like it was going to be his last. In a way, he did have a point, but Allister chose not to dwell on that. The life of a contract-bound vampire hunter was a dangerous one; no one would have debated that, but at the very least, they had access to the latest in firearms, armor, weaponry of all shapes and sizes, and surprisingly comfortable accommodations. In fact, for being underground, the facility had the feeling of a high-rise superstructure, like a casino-hotel. It had definitely been designed for comfort in mind, and why not? These people, these human hunters, were doing the council a sizeable favor. The least they could do was make certain their employees were comfortable.

They found a table presently, Allister making certain it was as far away from CS4 as possible, so that Mathias could not bandy insults with their leader. He had a way about him, an abrasive sort of mannerism that pushed away all but the very dedicated and even then, sometimes it was a stretch. If Allister had not been dealing with him for this long—ten years had positively flown by—he might have taken off long ago due to the man’s “rough exterior”. Truth be told, Mathias had prickly insides, too.

On a few occasions, he had allowed those insides to slip out and Allister had been able to piece together the man’s story. It was the same as everyone else’s in this secret division of vampire-paid hunters, some tragedy or other had taken friends, family, lovers, had dashed hopes and dreams of the future to so many shards of glass that rattled around in the survivor’s heart, cutting them, leaving scars, and making them hard. In that way, they were all the same.

“D’ya know where they sent Nasty’s crew?” Allister asked this knowing full well Mathias wanted to talk about it, if not with him, then with the aforementioned crew and that, he knew, could end in disaster. Mathias was an A-class hunter; it was as if he had been born to fight vampires. In a fight with another hunter, however, he was spaghetti, at best.

“Someplace in Siberia, near his hometown,” responded Mathias. “That’s the rumor.”

“So that’s his… retirement fund, then?”

The retirement fund was an affectionate way of naming the mission which led the Darkstar hunters back to the bloodsuckers who had destroyed their lives, the ultimate revenge mission. Not every hunter got the chance, as the cull squads were usually fairly efficient when a blatant killing occurred, but every once in a while, one of the greedy, bloodlust-driven bastards actually got away. If they ran that far and that fast for that long, chances were, they had to be bad news. Killing something like that earned a Darkstar hunter their freedom from service. This was not a job from which one simply walked away, so earning that privilege, either through quantity or difficulty, was the goal of anyone who had been in more than a few years.

That being said, earning one’s “retirement fund” was made difficult by more than just the vampire’s age. It was also considered highly dangerous to go after one who had missed their target the first time; there was said to be a mark of blood on the survivor, drawing them inexorably toward the bloodsucker’s fangs. These sorts of sayings and old wives’ tales were little more than urban legends to guys like Mathias, until he met the man’s gaze across the room, the one Allister had called Nasty.

Their eyes locked and all at once, like a lightning strike, Mathias Carver understood. He swallowed hard and stood, pushing away from the table. Allister watched him go, not attempting to stop him, not needing to do so. He knew what was about to happen, like a strong gut feeling but with a vivid projection behind his eyes when he blinked. He watched, then, as the movie played out.

Carver stuck his hand out to the hunter named Nasty, who stood, grabbed it, and embraced the man. They held fast to each other for a time, then pulled back and exchanged a few quiet words. Allister went back to his meal and waited for his companion to return. When he did, he was different, somehow, softer.

“Is ‘e taking it, then?” Allister’s question was a barely audible mumble.

“The Gift? Ah… he didn’t say. I… dunno, man. Would you?” The Gift, as it had been named, was the official terminology for accepting the bite and change of a greater vampire, transforming a Darkstar hunter into one of them as the ultimate and final payment for their services. They could no longer hunt, but if eternity appealed to them, it was open for their perusal.

“No,” said Allister, shaking his head. “Eternity’s no life.”

Not many hunters took what was offered.

#OC #OW #Allister Corsiva #Mathias Carver #Nasty Krasnorada #violence #concept #world building

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