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dearsnow · 4 months

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OUT OF TOUCH (1)

- you lost contact with the boy next door, and you believe your life is better for it. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, ⚠️ adult topics mentioned, part of the series “out of touch”)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 1,003

a/n - aaaaaa my top gun obsession as of late is currently taking up everything in my brain 🥹 now that i’m out for the summer, i really am going to try to finish what i started. come along for the journey, if you dare <3

You were never “together” together with him. You used to wish you were, praying desperately to every fallen eyelash and coin in a fountain and 11:11, but nothing could make Bradley Bradshaw, the only thing your teenage self wanted, settle down.

Instead, you followed him like a lost puppy, and he reveled in your affection. He was fifteen years old, just barely starting to grow his hair out, and you were fourteen. He was also your neighbor, something you could not get out of your giddy head every time you caught a glimpse of him riding his bike outside your window. You supposed it was a thing of proximity; you fell for the only boy you had ever really talked to, and he wanted a warm body.

It was an innocent crush. You liked the way he moved his (frankly horribly styled, which you only realized later) hair out of his brown eyes, and he liked that you liked him. So you went out on “dates”, and you had a fun time, and he inevitably left you to fend for yourself when his friends came around. It took two months of this for you to finally realize that it just wasn’t going to happen.

As soon as you pulled yourself off of your metaphorical knees, he was attached to another girl. A blonde named Rebecca with curves that were certainly not age-appropriate, even at seventeen. You hated her, for a time, but looking back on it, she had the same lovesick look in her eyes that you did. He had that effect on everyone.

When Bradley left, you didn’t even miss him.

You’re thirty-four now, with a brand-new sparkle in your eye. Things are perfect. You just accepted a new job in sunny San Diego to be closer to your long-term boyfriend, and really, life couldn’t be better.

After high school, you moved halfway across the country to attend your dream college, where you met Derick. He’s a nice guy. He brings you flowers, knows your drink order by heart, and, most importantly, he isn’t afraid of commitment. He has a big, shiny ring tucked in the back of his sock drawer, and you won’t ever tell him you know where it is.

Even your job is amazing, which is something people rarely get to say. You got the opportunity to own and manage a cafe quietly nestled into the cozier part of the California coast, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Its proximity to a naval base is also a great thing, as uniformed men line up in droves for an early morning coffee or the odd pastry on their cheat days.

You’re hardworking, and finally, finally, it’s starting to pay off. You smile to yourself as you pull the morning’s cash profit out of the cash register and divide it into folded envelopes. Nothing, you think, could ever go wrong.

Bradley’s life is great, too. That’s what he’d like to think, at least. He has friends. He loves his job. He loves the freedom of hooking up where he wants when he wants, without anyone trying to tie him down. He likes condoms and birth control, too, which are very important to his lifestyle. But when he looks at couples, rings around fingers and hands tucked into back pockets, something inside of him gives a little.

He’s never been one to stay in one place. He moved around a lot as a kid, and some essential part of that stuck with him. His job doesn’t make it easier, either–he’s constantly on the move. Now, though, he’s living in San Diego semi-permanently, and his roots are beginning to dig into the sand. And the whole time, he’s stayed depressingly single.

Women want him. There’s no doubt about it. He’s young enough, at thirty-five, for the twenty-something’s to chat him up, but old enough for the forty-somethings to not feel creepy talking to him. He’s fit, smooth, confident, and if he wants to take it that far, very good in bed. Despite all of that, he’s never found anyone that could truly tie him down. He’s getting a little tired of it at this point.

“Lord, she’s the hottest thing I’ve seen all week.” Fanboy moans into his palms. There’s a croissant on a napkin in front of him that he hasn’t even touched.

Hangman grins from behind him. “You gotta get us there so we can take a shot. As a humble man, I can firmly say that she won’t even think about her boyfriend when I walk through the door.”

The daggers are going on about their new crush of the week. Apparently, Fanboy had spotted what he describes as a “cuteness off the charts” cafe owner on his quest for a new dessert spot. There’s only one thing that deterred him from sweeping her off of her feet: she has a boyfriend, one that she’s evidently quite serious about.

Rooster isn’t into taken women. It’s too much hassle, and he doesn’t like getting in the way of a relationship. He’s made that mistake in the past, and gotten a black eye to show for it. A bit of him is curious, but he won’t take that bait.

“I want to go back. Maybe… maybe I can say the croissant was so good that I had to get another. Guys, you need to go with me. It’s serious serious.” Rooster can firmly say that he’s never seen Fanboy so worked up about a girl before. Who in the world could make his friend geek out like this?

Phoenix chimes in from her spot behind Rooster. “I don’t condone messing around with girls with boyfriends, but I’ve gotta see her for myself.”

Fanboy stands, determination written on his face, as he takes a bite of the croissant. “Let’s go. And you guys better not steal my thunder.”

Rooster rolls his eyes, but follows behind his very smitten friend. He’s in for an interesting (if not somewhat funny) afternoon.

Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes

#out of touch ; bradley bradshaw 🤍#solar eclipse.#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun fluff #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine

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namfinessed · 1 year

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we keep this love - j.jk

genre: fluff, angst (5k, lots of pining and f2l)

summary: jungkook loves you too much to tell you. jungkook loves you too much to not tell you. he hopes the photographs he takes everytime he tries to confess, will give him courage, he hopes they hold enough of his love to give him the push he needs.

masterlist

jungkook swears that today is it, today is finally the day he will tell you how he feels. he’s going to let his sweet best friend in the whole world know that his heart has always belonged to them…

but his feet haven’t laid still since he’s made this decision, his hands keep fiddling with the camera that he holds, and he feels this inane urge to just tell you, to finally end his suffering. nevertheless, jungkook can’t help but feel that this would end any kind of relationship with you.

“i think i should tilt my head to the right.” your voice hangs over his shoulder and jungkook glances at the photos he’s taken of you so far, a smile threatens to go wild on his face.

something that would definitely catch your attention.

so instead, jungkook coughs and clears his throat.

when you had asked jungkook to take your profile photos for a resume, he had agreed so eagerly that it made you laugh in endearment, but you never really knew why he had been so quick.

and well, if it was jungkook’s way, he wouldn’t take a photo of anything else so his agreement came swifter than the wind.

“i think you look just fine.” he replies with his heartbeat in his ears. he thinks you look perfect; he’s always thought you looked like the person that people dream of.

you just tutted at him, “you have to give me constructive criticism if you want my photos to turn out well, jungkook.”

there is nothing to fix, you always look the most beautiful and i am seconds away from falling to my knees for you.

jungkook just stares at his camera with pursed lips, he couldn’t say that to you, you would run away, you would never talk to him, you would never look at him again. jungkook would rather dig his own grave than let any of that happen.

he flips through the photos again, trying to look for anything to tell you to fix, but jungkook doesn’t see a single flaw, his heart actually sings to him with each photo that his eyes catch.

“jungkook.” you call out to him as you step in front of the light but he’s lost in his world, he’s lost in worlds where you love him and a world where you may no longer love him.

would his heart ever heal from worlds as cruel as those?

“jungkook!” you call out again, your eyebrows furrowing as you look at his hung head.

jungkook felt that having him choose between these two worlds was too harsh of the universe.

one was a world that was familiar, a world where you would always come to him when you need a friend and a world where you hold him tight as friends do, but his heart would remain heavy with words stuck in his throat. the other was a world where his heart would soar with relief, but you would no longer be around him.

“jungkook, are you here?” your fingers snap in front of his eyes and your voice is no longer a distant thought.

you are standing right in front of him with arms crossed across your chest, your sweet scent wafts around him, your eyes are concerned but radiant as always, and everything about your very existence breaks jungkook with how full he feels, from how your very existence seems to fill his purpose.

he panics and his throat runs dry as the words he wants to say dangle from the tip of his tongue but he can’t let them out, they have no place in this world tonight.

“smile!” jungkook exclaims uncharacteristically loudly as he raises his camera and your eyes snap open at his voice, looking at the camera involuntarily.

he clicks a picture.

jungkook lowers the camera with a deep breath.

that was close, that was too close.

he’s only brought to reality when you slap his arm, “why would you even do that?” you grin up at him, finding great amusement in his actions as you always do, and jungkook, not knowing what else to do, shrugs his shoulders and lets out a tight laugh.

“okay okay, we have to get these today so, please focus jungkook.” you brush past his arm, your hands tracing his biceps and your touch makes him fall within himself, he’s lucky that you get back under the lights.

he is trying.

god knows he is trying to focus but someone was just being too distracting.

nevertheless, jungkook sighs and lifts his camera.

another day, when he isn’t feeling as cowardly, he will tell you.

he will tell you about every piece of his heart that aches for you.

jungkook’s always been the quiet kind when it came to love.

he was never one for the dramatics, for loud professions with tears, for love that movies can be made about, his love for people was always as gentle but ever-present as rain beating the windows.

consistent, louder when need be, silent when need be but always there, always making its presence known.

he stared out at his apartment as the city hid itself under gusts of clouds and a deep sense of yearning brewed in his chest, what he wouldn’t give to have you in his arms right now, what he wouldn’t give to brush your hair as you fall asleep.

“here they are!” your bright voice breaks through, two mugs of hot chocolate were held with a clumsy grip in both your hands. jungkook darts up, hurrying to take the mug from you before you, knowing your nature, spill it all over his carpet.

you sheepishly hand it over to him, “that was one time, jungkook.”

“and it took me a week to clean it up” he teasingly reminded you as he settled down on the couch, the movie you both decided to watch was a sad one. jungkook insisted on a happier movie, knowing how easily you cried but you stood firm on your decision.

two hours later, the credits rolled in and jungkook was wiping the tears that collected around your jaw as you wiped away at your eyes. he held back his laughter as another light sob came from you because he had told you this would happen, but as always, you were too stubborn to listen to him.

but jungkook is alright with that, he is alright with everything when it’s about you.

“next time, we’ll watch boss baby, okay?” jungkook suggests softly, his hands ever so lightly brushing your skin and you nodded without a word.

jungkook had never thought of how much he loved comforting you, he wishes he could destroy any pain that could come upon you but he wishes more that you will never forget that he will be with you through every pain.

as you calm down and start gossiping about your co-workers with a glass of wine at your feet, jungkook is overcome again with the need to tell you that a simple night like this with you, is what he wants for the rest of his life.

he wonders if he could type it and show it to you.

yeah, that would work.

that way, he wouldn’t have to worry about stuttering in the middle, or forgetting words that he absolutely has to say, he doesn’t have to gather the courage to let his voice be completely bare for you.

he starts typing as you scroll through your phone with your still-puffy eyes. he knows that usually if you’ve cried this much, you weren’t too far away from tucking in for the night so if anything goes too badly, hopefully, you will just sleep it off and jungkook will have to deal with reality tomorrow.

jungkook types, erases, types, erases, types, erases, and soon, gets frustrated at himself for ever thinking this was a good idea.

why was it so hard to put his feelings into words? why was saying anything else so easy, but saying this, something so important to him, so hard?

maybe he should just go simple, and say just enough words to get his point across but that feels too impersonal.

for all that he’s ever wanted to say to you, he can’t go the simple way, he can’t say just enough, it’s everything or nothing.

then he starts typing again, the world dissolves around him as he focuses solely on words that sound right to him, words that he wants you to hear.

jungkook checks what he reads, one time, two times, three times before his own words start sounding embarrassing to him. he sighs heavily, turning to see you snoring with your head knocked back on the sofa.

he hides his chuckle behind his palm as his eyes soften around their edges to watch you.

you look cute.

you look very cute.

you always have, jungkook reminds himself that there was never a day when he didn’t think you looked cute.

he reaches for his phone, maybe he could tell you while you’re asleep, that way, it would be out in the world and not in his heart anymore, that way, he would never have to deal with the consequences.

jungkook clears his throat, his hands growing clammy under his phone as he turns towards you and prepares himself, his heart blooms with the relief that it will soon feel, “i have never-“

felt my heart so light and heavy.

felt my eyes so desperate to see something.

felt my body dance so much on the inside.

felt that i could burst from the love i feel.

maybe jungkook was more dramatic than he let on.

he feels the rush of confessing in his head, his chest, his feet, the tips of his fingers, all of it fills with the same numbing sensation, only in the best way possible. jungkook’s going to say everything today.

then.

as if nothing could ever align with him.

you stir in your sleep and jungkook’s jaw locks close.

he is too frozen to move his body or phone when you slowly open your eyes to take in your surroundings.

“what are you doing?” a yawn follows as you stare at the way his body is angled toward you. jungkook’s mouth opens and closes instantly.

you sit up with a groan and roll your neck around to relieve the tension gathered there as you wait for him to answer.

“nothing, i was just going to-“ jungkook did say he was going to tell you today, right?

but the way you look at him, with sleepy eyes and lax body, the way you trust him enough to be around him at your most vulnerable hits at jungkook’s heart.

“yeah?”

just telling you something that could’ve changed everything.

“just taking a photo of you when you were sleeping, you looked ridiculous” he forces himself to joke and the glare you throw him has him sweating under his thin t-shirt.

please buy my act, please don’t question anything.

“everyone looks ridiculous when they sleep, jungkook.” you argue with him, as expected of you and jungkook’s shoulders relax.

“not me, i look like a true angel.” he feigns a dreamy look on his face that has you fighting back laughter, and pushing on his arm.

you looked beautiful.

jungkook raises his phone and takes a photo of you.

“hey, not cool, man, there’s still drool on my face” you reach for the phone in his hand to delete the photo but jungkook jumps up and runs away with the phone clutched in his hands.

you scream and run after him, soon, you’re both chasing each other around the entire apartment with you getting close many times, but if jungkook couldn’t get his confession, jungkook would keep this photo.

“okay okay, i give up but if you show it to anyone, i will kill you.”

a happy death for jungkook, really.

you lay down on the wooden floor, heaving to let your lungs catch up on all the running you did, and jungkook lays down beside you, he doesn’t feel any of the exertion you do.

perks of being fit and whatnot.

“i’m going to show it to everyone.” he hums as he looks at the photo and pulls it away just when you lunge for it again. he snickers when you fall down, defeated.

“i’ll kill you.”

“sure, you will.”

you smile while shaking your head at him, “you are impossible.”

jungkook wants to argue, you are the impossible one, you are making things so hard for him right now, you have tilted his world on its axis overnight randomly and have the audacity to still be his friend while he’s dying with his love for you.

but jungkook doesn’t actually mind all that.

he does mind that he might never tell you how he feels.

but if your smile was anything to go by, he will save this until he can’t bear it anymore, until his chest completely burns away, jungkook will save what you have.

he just hopes he has enough time to keep the flames away.

jungkook must have some hidden interest in torturing himself because why would he agree to come shopping with you, for a date with someone else?

“this might be the one” you sing as you step out of the dressing room. jungkook grunts in his seat, he had been feeling extremely uneasy in the stomach since you mentioned your date with a co-worker.

how great could the guy even be?

would he ever know everything about you like jungkook did?

would he try to count stars in your eyes like jungkook did?

would he love you as much as jungkook did?

but jungkook knew he couldn’t say anything, he was the coward who always took two steps forward and ten steps backward whenever he wanted to tell you he loved you more than anyone else. he’s tried so many more times now and he sees no other way to tell you.

“what do you think?” your voice continued in the sweet tone that he wants to always hear. “it’s good.” jungkook mumbled, not looking away from his phone.

“you’re not even looking” you glare at him and he continues to scroll. you huff loudly, hands coming up to rest on your hips, jungkook was acting weird. he was never indifferent when you took him shopping, in fact, he always had a compliment for every look you picked out.

it felt strange to you that he wasn’t even looking at you today.

you hated that he wasn’t looking at you, that his attention wasn’t intently fixed on you.

“jungkook, look up right now or i’m ditching you for the rest of today” your warning seems to stir something in the moody man as he sighs, putting his phone away and looking up at you.

a smile beams on your face as his attention shifts back to you.

jungkook’s mouth runs dry.

“how does it look?” you do a little twirl in your dress and wait for his response with eager eyes. jungkook feels like he’s floating and being punched in the gut, all at once.

jungkook’s entire face flushed when he saw the dress.

you looked gorgeous.

there’s zero doubt about that in his head.

but did you have to wear it to a date with someone that was not him?

“it’s..” jungkook starts, but finds it hard to finish his sentence.

should he say it’s ugly, to make sure that you never wear it to that date?

should he say it’s perfect, because it isn’t your fault or your date’s fault that he’s dishonest?

“you should get it.” he regretfully admits, he would beat himself up forever if you didn’t get the dress because he’s some selfish asshole.

“really?” you grin widely, your hands gliding down the fabric of your dress and jungkook wishes he could smile too, he wishes he was the one you got the dress for, he wishes that he was just a little braver.

“yeah, i’m just gonna go to the washroom for a second” he gets up from his seat and you nod at him, turning back to admire yourself in the mirror.

he doesn’t want to leave you before he fully dictates you, in that dress, into his memory.

jungkook stares at you from where he’s stood.

a mixture of dread and longing fill him.

what if he never gets to tell you?

someday, he’ll be helping you get ready for a wedding with someone else.

he knows he’s getting ahead of himself, but jungkook feels pathetic.

he knows everything about you.

he counts the stars in your eyes.

he loves you.

he loves you so much that he would rather suffer like this than ever let you know that his heart bleeds for you.

but all of that is useless.

none of that knowledge, none of the counting, none of the affection, gave him you.

and he’s the sole one to blame.

he was right in the middle of losing something forever.

you catch jungkook’s eye in the mirror. he was unmoving, his eyes didn’t blink as a hollowness filled them and concern grows quickly in you.

“jungkook, everything okay bud?” you say softly, turning sideways to look at him with hands reaching to him, and jungkook instinctively steps back.

he can’t have you near him. he doesn’t deserve your comfort.

he’s your friend and he’s lying to you.

a flash of hurt crosses your eyes as you fold your hands back to your body.

jungkook can already feel it all slipping away from him.

all the control he’s had, all the patience he’s had, dissolves around him.

“i-i was just wondering if you wanted me to take a picture to show you what it looks like” he’s lying to you again but the defeat he feels is greater than the guilt.

your head tilts at him in confusion.

something was wrong.

jungkook wasn’t telling you something.

but jungkook always told you everything, didn’t he? what could possibly trouble him so much that he had to keep it from you?

“okay, you can take a picture” you reason to yourself that jungkook wouldn’t hide anything intentionally, he will come around and tell you eventually.

maybe he needed space.

you stand awkwardly in your place with arms spreading the skirt of the dress as jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the picture with a gulp.

you watch as he stares at his screen for a few minutes before exiting the store without another word.

he never showed you what it looked like.

you had a feeling he wasn’t coming back.

and you were right.

jungkook stared at the prints of photos laid in front of him.

this was his last chance.

he was burning away and he was running out of time.

after this, he wouldn’t try again, he will force himself to see you as the friend you are.

when he left the store, he was hit with images of you on a date, looking pretty for someone else, smiling at someone else’s jokes, and listening to someone else’s stories and it made him nauseous.

what jungkook would tell you today, would be totally unfair to you. but he couldn’t go on another day with the weight that his heart buried him under.

jungkook’s foot wouldn’t stop tapping against the floor as he watched the clock with hopeful eyes, he’s never felt so nervous before, he doesn’t think he’s ever dreaded anything this much.

the door clicks.

jungkook’s chest squeezed continuously as he got up from where he was sitting, he was going to power through, he had to.

“jungkook?” you call out after you notice his sneakers near your doorway and you hear his hum in reply. you walk into your living room and see him standing with hands fumbling next to your coffee table. you give him a small smile and his face melts with the tiniest bit of relief.

it’s okay, as long as you still smile at him, be it the smallest or biggest smile, as long as you smile at him after everything, he will be okay.

“i was going to call you” you admit and his eyebrows arch up in question, “you looked a bit down today, just wanted to check up on my best friend” you try to sound cheery as you squeeze his upper arm and walk by him to sit on the couch.

god bless your heart.

why did you have to remind him every single day of the reasons he’s so madly fallen for you?

“what is all this?” you notice the photos of yourself sprawled out on the table, from the many times you have been around jungkook over the past few months.

all of them were random, none of them had any coherence whatsoever except for your face being central in all of them.

you picked apart the photographs, trying to remember when exactly they were taken. your heart quickens when you realize it’s all the times that you thought jungkook looked like he was going to say something, only to swallow the words later.

“jungkook? what are all these photos?” jungkook couldn’t deny it anymore, he no longer had any excuses, the evidence of his love was dangling between your fingers.

his heart sank as he knew this was going to be the time that he’s both longed for and agitated over.

“i wanted to ask you something” he says, unsurely, slowly with jitters crawling on his nerves. you hold your breath as you nod for him to continue, looking up from the photos to give him a soft smile to encourage him, even if you were as confused as ever.

jungkook’s world gets heavier around him, air suddenly becomes too thick for his words to get to you, at least the words that have etched onto his body but never left him.

“don’t go on another date with someone else” jungkook’s eyes glisten as he forces his eyes to look at you. he needed to see what you felt, what you thought, and if you were going to hate him forever or not.

he was laying his heart for you to gather or stomp on tonight and he had nowhere to run to save himself.

“please.” he chokes out as his heart pivots in his chest and jungkook’s legs start to weaken beneath him.

why did it feel like his life would change in every possible way after this?

your eyes widen as you, for the first time, see the yearning that was drowning in jungkook, see the desperation that wrapped his body in a tight rope.

“those photos, they are from all from days that i was moments away from telling you” jungkook’s eyes fall away from you, he wasn’t brave enough to see your face for the rest of what he was going to say.

“telling me what?” you sound so understanding, so encouraging, so soft, so much of everything he wants to keep forever.

“i love you.” the world sheds some of its weight, he doesn’t look at you still, if he does, his world will never be light again. but jungkook also feels this strange giddy joy forcing his cheeks to rise is relief.

now that he’s said it, he never wants to stop.

“and i’ve been too much of a coward to tell you this. i love you, i wish i knew when exactly it happened but i don’t remember and the only explanation i have is that maybe i have always loved you and it just came in clarity to me now.” your entire form dissolves into the couch as you watch your best friend of years struggle to put his love into words.

his love for you.

you feel your heartbeat in your ear but something brims in you, something that fills you with a warmth that you didn’t know you craved.

something that makes you feel like jungkook isn’t alone in this paradox of emotions he’s feeling.

“whether you choose someone else or not, it is up to you, i will never come in the way of that but i can’t breathe for another second with my heart feeling like it will crawl out of my body just to reach you, i can’t go another day wishing that you were mine, i can’t go on like this. i love you and i am afraid that if i don’t tell you now, i never will. it’s killing me knowing that you’re right next to me and knowing i can’t give you all of me.” jungkook rambles, he closes his eyes and rambles, he hopes he’s making sense, he hopes you don’t hate him, he hopes that you will have him. jungkook feels light as a cloud as his heart finally flies free.

he looks at the photos, he remembers how tightly his heart took over him every single time he wanted to relieve himself from the weight of his love and jungkook knows he wouldn't last another day without you claiming him completely.

“please take me, please take all of me.” as he says that, you feel a tug so strong on your chest that it topples your heart over. you never knew jungkook’s feelings were so beautiful, you never knew he felt so much because of you.

but you knew a couple things for sure now.

“i won’t go on another date.” you stare at the photos as you give him his answer that leaves you with no hesitation, no doubt at all. jungkook’s words had you on top of the world, if he saw you even half as beautiful as you were in his pictures, you knew that you had nothing to worry about.

jungkook’s head snaps up as you get up from the couch to walk over to him, his throat closes up when your familiar scent wraps his rope tighter around him.

if you come this close and not fall into his arms, jungkook will never forgive you.

“i won’t go on another date that’s not with you. i can’t believe i never realized it before but hearing it from you made it the clearest thing in my head.” your hand reached out to rest on his chest, the soft t-shirt he wore wrinkled under your touch, and jungkook feels he could fall to his knees. “maybe, as you said, it’s always been there and i kept fooling myself to think otherwise.”

“but i don’t want to be a fool anymore. i just want you to take me too.” reality was spinning jungkook’s head, looking at you say those words, eyes with too many stars for him to count, was feeling too good to be true to jungkook.

he had thought og a hundred other ways this could’ve gone, he expected to lose his friend forever but he wasn’t and that was the craziest thing to jungkook.

“are you serious right now?” he didn’t mean for it to sound funny but you burst out laughing, leaning your head on his chest as your shoulders shook. “no jungkook, i like to confess my undying love to people for fun.” he rolls his eyes with the widest grin ever as he lifts your head for you to look at him.

undying love.

all for him.

in that minute, jungkook was the luckiest man in the world.

but he wants to hear the words to be sure, he wanted his heart to finally hear it from you. and he never had to ask you to say it.

“i love you, jungkook, so much.” he wants to do a little dance, and break into song, throw the biggest party known to mankind because fuck him but the girl he loves, loves him back.

(that too, so much!)

but for now, he will settle for quickly gathering you in his arms and spinning you around as your laughter fills the room. he will settle for your smile that he now sees is the widest it’s ever been.

jungkook only knows how to be a good friend to you but he knows he’s going to try his best to be the best love you’ve ever experienced.

his rain-like love pattered around him as your words drowned in the noises.

it had never been so loud, yet so quiet but as always, jungkook’s love for you remained suspended around you.

from now on, it would always drown you two.

a happy death for jungkook, really.

#bts #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shots #jungkook masterlist #namfinessed #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook one shot

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nadinebrooks · 2 months

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Here is the link to my masterlist.

Fred Weasley x Reader: Yule Ball Bet

Warnings: This one has some language (I just feel like the Weasleys don't have the cleanest language) also I know the Yule Ball took place in December, but please don't question the timeline and just enjoy. Thanks!

The day after the announcement of the Yule Ball, all of Hogwarts had been thrown into a frenzy. The Great Hall was officially buzzing with excitement while students from every house whispered and giggled about who they might ask or who might ask them.

Amidst the chaos, (y/n) Longbottom, a quiet Hufflepuff, sat at the Hufflepuff table with her cousin Neville.

Neville, who was usually shy and reserved, seemed more at ease around (y/n). The two of them had a special bond that went beyond the walls of Hogwarts.

They were family, and for both, that meant everything.

“Are you going to the ball?” Neville asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them. No student ever said anything about Neville sitting at the Hufflepuff table. The whole house loved him.

“I don’t know," (y/n) shrugged. "No one’s asked me yet. I don’t think anyone will.”

Neville smiled softly. “I know for a fact someone will. You don’t hear the way guys around school talk about you. Everything thinks you’re beautiful.”

(y/n) smiled a little, not fully believing her cousin’s words. Little did she know, Neville was right. She was stunning, with her Hufflepuff robes accentuating her graceful figure and her eyes sparkling with kindness, but she never quite saw herself that way.

Across the hall, Fred Weasley was in the middle of a heated discussion at the Gryffindor table with his twin brother George, Ron, and unexpectedly, Draco Malfoy who heard the brother’s conversation as he walked by.

The gingers had been talking about the Yule Ball and who they might ask. Fred’s eyes wandered to the Hufflepuff table, where (y/n) sat deep in conversation with Neville.

“What’s got your attention, Fred?” George asked, following his brother’s gaze. “Ah, (y/n) Longbottom. You should ask her to the ball.”

Fred’s heart raced at the thought. He had admired (y/n) from afar for a while now, her quiet elegance and the way she was always kind to everyone she met. “You really think she’d say yes to me?”

Draco snorted. “Someone like her? With you? Not a chance, Weasley. She wouldn’t even say yes to you in your dreams.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Hell no. She is way out of your league. There’s no way she’d go with you.”

“What if she did? What if I asked her, and she said yes?” Fred felt a spark of determination.

A sly grin spread across George’s face. “Are you making a bet out of this?”

Draco smirked. “Fine. If she says yes, I’ll give you twenty Galleons.”

“I’ll give you ten Galleons.” George threw in.

“And I’ll throw in five.” Ron shrugged.

“And if she doesn’t?” Fred asked.

Draco’s smirk widened. “You owe each of us how much we said we’d pay. Deal?”

Fred nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. He stood up and walked toward the Hufflepuff table as he watched (y/n) stand up.

Neville noticed him approaching so he made his way back to his own table. (y/n) looked at him surprised that he was walking toward her.

“Hi, (y/n),” Fred said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

(y/n) nodded, “Of course, but you’re going to have to walk with me. I’m heading toward Potions right now and I can’t be late for Snape’s class.”

Fred took a deep breath as the two of them approached the staircase that would lead (y/n) down toward the basements. “I was wondering if you…if you would go to the Yule Ball with me?”

(y/n)’s eyes widened in surprise. She never expected someone like Fred Weasley to ask her to the ball. She didn't think someone like him would even notice her. “You really want to go with me?”

Fred nodded earnestly. “Yeah, I do. So, what do you say?”

A smile spread across (y/n)’s face. “I’d love to go with you, Fred.”

Fred’s heart soared. “Great! I’ll see you then.

As Fred walked back to his table, George, Ron, and Draco watched in disbelief. “Well I’ll be damned,” Draco muttered, reaching into his pocket for the galleons.

The days leading up to the Yule Ball were filled with anticipation, (y/n) and Neville spent time together, planning their outfits and talking about the ball.

(y/n) couldn’t help but feel excited about going with Fred. She had always admired him from afar, his sense of humor and his kindness.

The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and (y/n) felt like she was floating on air. She wore a beautiful, flowing gown in Hufflepuff yellow, her hair elegantly styled by one of her closest friends.

As she descended the stairs to meet Fred, she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him waiting for her. He looked dashing in his dress robes, a wide smile spreading across his face as he saw her.

“Wow (y/n), I don’t know what to say. You look amazing.” Fred said, offering her his arm.

(y/n) blushed, very taken aback but his normally very confident attitude. “That you Fred. You look great too.”

The ball was everything (y/n) had dreamed of. She and Fred danced and laughed, enjoying each other’s company. Fred was charming and attentive, making (y/n) feel special and cherished. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that someone like Fred could truly be interested in her.

As the night drew to a close, Fred walked (y/n) back to the Hufflepuff common room.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Me too,” (y/n) replied, smiling up at him.

“Maybe we could do this again sometime?” Fred asked, hope evident in his voice.

“I’d like that,” (y/n) said softly.

Fred leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Fred,” she replied, watching him walk away with a smile on his face.

The next morning, (y/n) quickly found Neville so that she could ask him how his night with Ginny Weasley went.

“How was it with Fred? You had the whole Gryffindor common room talking about you two last night,” Neville smiled at his cousin happy that she found someone.

“It was perfect,” (y/n) said, his heart still fluttering from the evening’s events.

Little did she know, her perfect night was just the beginning of a whirlwind romance with Fred Weasley, one that would bring both joy and heartache in the months to come.

For now, though, she allowed herself to bask in the happiness of the moment, unaware of the secrets that lay beneath the surface.

The weeks following the Yule Ball were some of the happiest (y/n) had ever known. She and Fred spent more and more time together, and she found herself falling for him harder every day. Their relationship blossomed, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and stolen kisses in the quiet corners of Hogwarts.

Fred seemed to be genuinely interested in her, always finding ways to make her smile. He would wait for her after classes, surprise her with little notes and flowers, and even managed to sneak her into the Gryffindor common room a few times for late-night chats and games of wizard chess. It was all so perfect that (y/n) couldn’t help but feel like she was living in a dream.

Fred’s humor and adventurous spirit perfectly complemented (y/n)’s quiet strength and kindness.

However, beneath the surface, a shadow loomed over their happiness. Fred was increasingly troubled by the secret of the bet. He knew he needed to tell (y/n) the truth, but each time he tried, the fear of losing her stopped him. The guilt gnawed at him, growing heavier with each passing day.

Halloween approached, bringing with it a sense of excitement and anticipation. The Slytherins were known for throwing extravagant parties, and this year was no exception.

Lee Jordan managed to secure a couple of invitations so he invited the twins which of course meant Fred brought (y/n) along.

(y/n) was excited about the party, thrilled at the chance to dress up and enjoy a night of fun. She decided to dress up as a vampire with a a sleek back dress with intricate lace details, dark eye makeup, deep red lips, and even managed to charm her fang teeth to grow longer. Fred dressed as a dashing pirate and as soon as he met (y/n) at the Hufflepuff common room, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You look incredible,” Fred whispered as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

(y/n) smiled up at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Captain Weasley.”

They arrived at the party, the Slytherin common room transformed into a haunted haven with cobwebs, eerie lights, and enchanted decorations. The air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses as students danced and mingled.

As the night grew on and drinks started flowing more loosely, the party grew wilder. (y/n) and Fred danced together, lost in their own world. Fred’s friends were nearby, enjoying the festivities. He laughed as he watched Lee dancing with a pretty Ravenclaw.

Everything seemed perfect until Draco Malfoy, visibly drunk, stumbled over to where (y/n) and Fred were standing.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” Draco slurred, a smirk playing on his lips.

Fred tensed, sensing trouble. “Fuck off Malfoy. You’re drunk.”

Draco ignored him, his bloodshot eyes fixed on (y/n). “Did Fred ever tell you how this all started, (y/n)?”

(y/n) frowned, a knot of unease forming in her stomach. “What do you mean? What are you trying to say Draco?”

Draco chuckled darkly. “The bet of course. It’s been months, surely he’s had to have told you by now. You don’t know, do you (y/n)?”

Fred’s heart sank. “Malfoy, if you don’t leave us alone, I’m going to beat your ass.”

“No stop Fred,” (y/n) placed a hand on his arm. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

“He only asked you to the Yule Ball because we bet he couldn’t get someone like you to say yes. Thirty five Galleons, wasn’t it, Weasley?”

“Us?” (y/n) whispered wondering who could be part of this sick game. “Someone like me? What is that supposed to mean?”

Draco was relentless. “Me, Georgie, Ronniekins, and your boyfriend. I’m going to be honest, you are way out of Weasley’s league. We all thought there was no way you would actually go out with him.”

(y/n) felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. She stared at Fred, her eyes wide with shock and betrayal. What made it worse was that she was hearing everything from Draco Malfoy instead of her boyfriend. “Is that true, Fred?”

“If anything it should be a compliment that we didn’t think Fred was up to your level,” Draco chuckled.

(y/n) held up a hand to silence Draco and he instantly stopped talking before sneaking off back into the party.

Fred’s face was pale. “(y/n) it’s not like that. I was going to tell you-”

(y/n)’s voice trembled with anger and hurt. “You were going to tell me? When, Fred? After another few months of lies?”

The party seemed to fade around them as (y/n) turned and fled, tears streaming down her face. Fred called after her, but she didn’t stop. She needed to get away. To process the devastating revelation.

#harry potter masterlist #harry potter imagine #harry potter preferences #harry potter x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #weasley family #fred weasley x you

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trensu · 1 year

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Have a snippet from that one holy warrior au. thanks to @ent-is-indecisive for helping me come up with a title for this fic. i'll be tagging it as stasis in darkness for easy tracking. this is part of a rough draft so it probably will be modified by the time i finish the damn thing and make it ao3 ready. but my brain's kind of stuck and needs a kickstart to get it going again, so i thought i'd share it and hopefully get motivated again

It happened again.

–

The fourth night:

“Isn't it true the King of Darkness–”

“Lord of Night.”

“Yeah, him. He controls all the monsters in the dark and sets them on innocent people for fun. Don’t see why you’d want to throw your lot in with a god like that.”

“Because he doesn’t. He takes care of nighttime animals. Bats, coyotes, owls…”

“The scary ones, you mean.”

“No! Besides, he takes care of cats, too. Cats aren’t scary. They’re, you know, cute.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got something against cats?”

“Of course not!" The man said, sounding mildly offended. Steve opened his mouth to go on about the Lord of Night's chosen creatures but the man interrupted with, "Well, look at the time! Later, gator.”

The man ran off with a grin not sparing him a second glance. Steve stared after him, baffled.

“What the fuck’s a gator?”

–

The fifth night:

“Don't you know your King, excuse me, Lord of Darkness–”

“Night. Lord of Night.”

“Same thing. He helps criminals evade justice. Pretty sure that one’s true.” The man lounged lazily on a nearby boulder as he asked. Kind of like a cat, Steve noticed with a trace of amusement that was easily smothered by annoyance at the man's…everything else.

“He helps people who travel by night. Most of the time they’re just night workers or people with nowhere to go. The ones that are shunned for being different or the ones too poor to afford safe shelter.”

“Huh. Alright, explain the horse thief thing, then, if he’s so good and noble.”

“...fine, he’s got a soft spot for horse thieves but thievery isn’t that bad of a crime in the grand scheme of things.”

“Ha! Sure,” the man conceded. “But! You can’t deny that this Lord of Night cursed people with terrible nightmares that left them sleepless and suffering for days. To the brink of lunacy, some say.”

The man said it with triumph, as if with this he’d finally break Steve’s faith. Steve shrugged.

“All gods get angry.”

“And that’s okay? You’re fine with him inflicting mind torture on some poor mortal just because he threw a tantrum?”

“First off, he wouldn’t just throw a tantrum," Steve said with exasperation. He might end up throwing a tantrum if this guy persisted. "I don’t think he’s the kind to get angry easily. And second, the people he cursed before always deserved it. Besides, he helps with good dreams, too. It’s not all bad.”

“Uh-huh, I totally believe you," the man said, heavy with mockery.

“Look man, if you’re so against the Lord of Night, why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back and bothering me?”

“...curiosity?”

“Well, be curious quietly. I need to pray.”

“...he probably doesn’t even have prayers.”

“I said shut up, man. I need to concentrate.”

The man leaves without any more fuss.

–

The sixth night:

“You have a lot of faith in a god who lost his own name. Does he even have any holy texts left?”

“Dustin could only find one, but that was enough.”

“Really? Other gods have entire libraries of stories and whole tomes of holy words. They have temples and monasteries all across the land of mortals.” The man motioned derisively at the crumbling statue. "This thing here is barely a shrine!"

“Hey, I'm working on that, alright? It's going to look great when I'm done with it," Steve protested. "And so what if he doesn't have more? Robin says quantity’s got nothing to do with quality.”

“Yeah, but the other gods are remembered for a reason. That counts for something,” the man's voice lost some of that smug edge. He fiddled with the hem of his fraying shirt as he spoke.

Steve refused to rise to the bait. He responded calmly, but firmly.

“I don’t need libraries to know I want to carry his symbol. From what Robin and Dustin found, he represents all the things my friends taught me were important.” Steve pauses. "I’m not a good reader anyway so less books are better for me.”

"Oh, so that's why you picked him! Very convenient," The man sounded very amused. Steve ignored him until he heard the man wander away for the night. He sighed in relief.

With a surge of restless energy leftover from being very good and calm about that nuisance of a man, Steve approached the statue elevated on its crumbling plinth. He reached up towards its open hand held at its side, barely within reach, and brushed his fingers along the worn knuckles.

"That guy's wrong about you, I know he is,” Steve whispered, fervently. “You deserve a temple. A hundred of them, all for your own."

Steve thought, for a moment, he heard a sharp intake of breath, but when he looked there was no one but him around.

“I’ll make sure you get a great temple."

He waited, strained his ears for even a single word from his god. He tried not to be disappointed when he heard nothing. Again.

–

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #stranger things #steddie #thanks again to ent for helping find a title for this #and for listening to my directionless ramblings about it

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yuurei20 · 1 year

Text

Malleus Info Compilation part 15: Malleus and Sebek

Sebek’s interests seem to largely begin and end with Malleus. In a vignette Sebek says “Malleus, I will do everything within my power to serve you” and Malleus responds, “I…see. Then I’ll expect nothing less.”

When asked about his interest in dating in Phantom Bride, he responds “My schedule is already packed with training so I can protect Malleus. There’s no room for romance.”

Sebek threatens to strike people with lighting during the “Terror is Trending” event for “mocking the house of Draconia” via the Draconia Challenge and is stopped by Cater, whom he listens to only because he had been ordered to do so by Malleus and Lilia. When Cater recommends that Sebek let Malleus “mingle with his fans a little” Sebek insists that “a man of his stature should command fear and respect, and that is why I spend every waking moment at his side, to ensure that he comes to no harm!”.

Sebek is happy to celebrate his birthday because it “means I’m one step closer to being worthy of Malleus”.

Sebek's prized possession is a portrait of Malleus that he “pays (his) respects to” multiple times a day. Sebek is learning to drink coffee because he is jealous of Silver’s ability to enjoy it when he, himself, does not.

Sebek says that “it is IMPERATIVE that I conquer my aversion to black coffee posthaste!” but Malleus purchases tea for Sebek during the Firelit Sky event because, according to Jamil, “tea can have a calming effect”. Malleus agrees, “(Sebek) can get rather worked up at times”.

Jamil tells a story from a flight class where Sebek broke a cookie from Malleus that he had been holding onto as a keepsake, and “he was inconsolable. It was kind of heartbreaking to watch”.

Malleus scolding Sebek is not unusual, and we see it happen repeatedly across different vignettes and events. Sebek redirecting conversation to center upon Malleus is very common (“Who wouldn’t be riveted by an anecdote about the great Malleus Draconia?!”) and he seems to have become infamous among the other students for doing so.

It is a habit that disqualifies him as a suitor for Eliza, though he only joined the event in the first place to fill in for Malleus himself. Sebek is overprotective even from Silver and Lilia's perspectives but he says he “wouldn’t dream of stifling my liege”.

When Sebek expresses regret over not being assigned to Malleus’ team for Beanfest Lilia says, “We have precious few chances indeed to turn a blade upon a king in our lifetimes. Consider it training and enjoy it for what it is”. Sebek responds, “But I swear on my life that I would never turn a blade upon my lord!”.

(Lilia follows with “I plan to go after Malleus quite aggressively”.) Malleus misses the meteor shower during Wish Upon a Star when Sebek insists upon escorting him to the dorm. Sebek says he trains himself “so that I can be Malleus’ sword or shield whenever he requires”.

Sebek also says, “My left-handedness often gives me an advantage in sparring matches. I’m not above petty tricks if they seize victory for Malleus”. And: “There’s no point in training yourself without an objective. Mine is clear: to attain power enough to protect Malleus”

In the Wish Upon a Star event Sebek says “I have but one wish! I wish for the whole world to kneel before our king”.

#twstfacts #malleusfacts #Malleus Draconia #twstmalleus #twisted wonderland

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lyramundana · 1 year

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Hii, fellow poly Minsung whore activist here🥰 I’m nervous about using my account so I went anon, I hope you don’t mind. I have a little scenario here that I’m probably so wrong for but I’m delulu ash.

Maybe reader (whose a fan or a friend is dragging her along with them) meets Minsung (who’re already in a relationship ofc) in a city they’re having a concert in. Minsung are like “hey ykw she kinda fine, let’s spice things up and bring her back to the hotel.” During their night together, the boys use degradation, praise, grips hard enough to bruise, and soft touches just to make her head spin.

Now I love me some a sprinkle of angst. She has a moment of overthinking after Minsung fall asleep and escapes?? Sort of lol. Minsung do not like this, no no no😔.

That night, she ends up at their concert with some good ass ground floor tickets. While she doubted they would see her and if they did, they probably wouldn’t recognize her (girl like they weren’t giving you the best dicking down of your life the night before), they do in fact see her and you just made this easier for them bbg. They told the other members and security guards to bring her backstage after the show.

Oh babe they mad as hellll. They don’t even wait to get back to the hotel as they drag her to an empty room and destroy her. We’re talking hand prints on her ass, more prominent fingerprint shapes on her hips, arms and neck, tears streaming down her face, the whole 9 yards.

Idk where to go from there tbh. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my delulu thoughts <3

Okay now, honey. First of all, there's no such thing as a "wrong" scenario. Everything that it's discussed in this blog is acceptable and very much not-delulu, so don't brush off your scenarios. Specially when is so FUCKING GOOD AND DELICIOUS like this one. Like, excuse me🥵🥵🥵?? You came up with this masterpiece and brought it to me for free?? Sweetie, you should post it in your own blog and let the world see this jewel of yours. Don't feel nervous of using your account. I always make my horny, unhinged requests displaying my username. This is Tumblr. No one here can judge you for your thoughts

You bet I enjoyed every line of this delulu side of yours.

Reader doesn't really follow the group, but her friend is a Stay and this concert is the lifelong opportunity they've been dreaming off, but they don't want to go alone, so they drag Reader to accompany them. While the friend is resting in the hotel/house, Reader decides to take a stroll around the city and comes across MinSung at some point. Maybe they meet in a shop, where they struck a converstation about common interests, and seeing they get along well MinSung agree and say "fuck it, can we join you?" and that's how they get to know each other better.

Reader doesn't know who they are, but their faces are familiar, and they're just happy to chat with someone like normal people. They've wanted to explore the city a bit before the concert, as the weather looked great for some alone time together, but they encountered the language barrier issue and the lack of knowledge about the place. When Reader appears and helps them out, being so friendly and nice about it, their first instinct is glue themselves to her for the rest of journey. Also, they find her really attractive and can't help but admire her discreetly and exchange appreciative comments that she can't understand. And that's how they spent their day hanging out, just the three of them, while Reader acts like a guide and they start to be bolder with her.

At some point they're sitting in a bar together, drinking a bit, and they have privacy to talk about anything. It's also then whey they begin to make their attraction clear. They've been so fucking stressed with this tour, sex recently hasn't been enough for them, and she's just so gorgeous. So cute. The way she speaks, moves, even the way she dress is driving them mad slowly. It doesn't help that she returns every bold gesture from them. She's not blind. She finds them hot too and it's been a while since she had some "fun".

So, after a while of wandering hands, spicy "jokes" and suggestive comments, the tension feels too thick and they throw the question in.

"We should get going back to our hotel room. Want to come with us and see it?"

She's not drunk enough to miss the intentions behind that question, but she's tipsy enough to accept.

The flirting doesn't stop and when they set a foot in the elevator, the tension snaps. They jump at her like hungry wolves, biting and grabbing every piece of skin they can get their hands on, and Reader welcomes all of it like a submissive lamb, ready to be devoured.

They struggle to open the door, being so occupied feeling her up under her clothes and leaving marks already. Once they're inside, one of them closes the door with a kick without taking his attention from her. They leave a path of clothes behind them that ends up in their bedroom and then she's thrown to the bed. She doesn't have time to recover before they're on her again, exploring every inch of her know naked body with their mouths and hands. Her brain is all mushy from the intense pleasure and adrenaline she's feeling. MinSung unleash all the pent up frustrations and desire they've been dealing with on her.

The entire night was filled with her moans and whimpers while they took her roughly, leaving their hands printed on her hips and inner thighs, as they groaned and cried out of sheer pleasure and relief. Sometimes they went at her at the same time, others they took turns while one watched.

"Such a good girl for us, isn't she, jagi?"

"Damn right she is, so eager to please us, to let us play with her body."

"Look at her, so obedient and cute for us. What a good whore, letting herself be fucked by some men she doesn't even know"

"Go on, use your mouth like the little slut you are. Nice job, kitten"

"We'll fill you up so much it'll be leaking out of you for days"

Her mind turns blank, the world spins, and her body starts to shake uncontrollably and tremble with the amount of orgasm she had. They grab her legs and torso with such force it feels they're trying to press the imprint themselves in it, moving her body as they please to find the right angle. When she cums again, she's half-unconscious and the boys are tired too, finally spent. They clean her up, massage the bruises the left and watch her fall asleep while caressing her face and kissing her skin. They chat for a while before the tiredness consumes them too, Reader safely kept in their arms.

The morning after, she's the first to wake up and doesn't take long to realize what happened. She remembers enough of it and feels her face get warm at the memory, but also gets giddy at it. She stretches a bit, careful to not wake them up, and supress a hiss of pain when she feels the marks they left. She reaches for her phone, reading the messages and calls from her friend, who's worried sick, at which Reader calms them down by giving them a "censored" version of the events. Then the friends reminds her of the concert and sends a photo of one of the promotional posters, featuring all members.

Reader feels her blood freeze inside her body.

She turns around to look at the boys in bed, then at the picture on the phone, then at the bed again, and she feels faint.

Maybe it's the remnants of the alcohol, maybe it's the weight of the revelation, maybe it's the lack of sleep she got, but Reader has to fight off a panic attack and the only thing she can think of at this moment is running away from this situation. So she gets dressed, grabs her stuff, and leaves hurriedly without waking them up and full intention of not looking back. When the boys wake up, they expected to see her in their arms still and maybe get another round, but imagine their shock when they see she's not there. Ohh honey, they're seriously mad. Why the fuck did she run? How could she after they night they had? They try to brush off the anger because they know chances of seeing her again are slim and there's no point.

Meanwhile, Reader's friend notices she's not quite the same since she came back and she's even more reluctant than before in attending the concert. To get her friend off her back, she admits she saw MinSung during her walk and chatted with them "a bit" and now she's embarrased to see them. Her friend, obviously, has a fangirl moment at first and chastises Reader for not telling her first, bombing her with questions, but she avoids the spicy parts of the story. Her friend finally tells her to not worry, that although their seats give a good view of the stage, it'll be very hard for the boys to spot her in the crowd anyway. Reader relents and goes to the concert, having dressed prettily at her friends' insistence because "they have to look their best for the occasion!". When they arrive, Reader feels more at ease with the amount of people surrounding her and thinks her friend said the true.

However, when the group comes to the stage, she feels her heart stop at recognizing the men she had that glorious night of sex with and becomes shifty. They don't make signs of having spoted her, even when Jisung came near their zone, he didn't seemed to notice her, and she allowed herself to enjoy the performance, convinced that they was safe. But she didn't know Jisung had indeed spoted her, hence he aproached their location to confirm. He didn't hesitate in telling Minho, and when they overcame the shock, they former anger came back again and they agreed to a plan. Stays could feel a shift in the boys' performance, they seemed more brutal, harsher.

When the concert ended, Reader was about to leave with her friend until a security guard stopped her and told her she was demanded backstage. Both of them were shocked and confused, and Reader's friend even acted worried, refusing to ler her go in fear she got in trouble for something. Reader calmed her down and asked her to wait in the hotel, since the man told them it wasn't anything bad. While she was leaving, the friend winked at her and exclaimed "tell me all the details when you sign the NDA".

A staff members takes her to an empty dressing room and tells her to wait, leaving her alone there. She's fidgeting, not knowing what to expect but having a small suspicion. Suddenly, the door opens with a slam and she jumps in the place. When she sees the two boys enter and locking the door behind them, she knows she's fucked.

They let her know exactly how pissed off they are, interrogating her and even accusing her of being a fan pretending to not know them just to get her wet dream come true. She argues back and denies it all, returning all their yells, until a hand grabs her painfully by the jaw.

"You don't fucking get to talk back to us, whore. We should've put you in your place from the beginning"

"I think she's a little too high up there, jagiya. Let's remind her exactyl what her place is"

All the gentleness they showed the first night is gone. Her clothes are ripped in shreds and thrown carelessly around the room, as she's pushed forcefully on the ground.

They don't hide their satisfaction and pride at seeing the faint marks they left previously, pressing them enough to make her whine in pain.

"Don't whine, slut. We're about to give you even more of them."

They go at her at the same time, no turns now. They edge her until she's sobbing and screaming, first with their fingers and then with their tongues. She gets spanked by one of their belts, feeling the bruises starting to form in her ass cheeks and thighs. She's then gagged with the same belt because "way too fucking loud, kitten. you're not allowed to make a sound".

When she's spasming, eyes rolling back and begging through the belt for some release, anything, the boys exchange a knowing glance and untie the gag, letting her breathe through her mouth in relief. But her relief doesn't last when they position her in the middle, with both of their dicks inching to her cunt. She knows they're up to something, but her brain is too fucked to guess what. When she feels both of their cocks entering her at once, she's about to scream again but a hand quickly covers her mouth, and they both start moving agressively inside her, leaving their dicks printed in her walls. The feelinf their cocks rubbing against each other and her clenching almost makes them cum again, but they control themselves.

They fucked her back and forth across the room, moving from the ground to the couch to the chairs to the make up tables, etc.

"That's what you fucking deserve for leaving us, baby. What the fuck were you thinking with that dead brain of yours, hm?"

"Look at her, so cockdumb already, acting like a desesperate bitch in heat. Aren't two cocks enough for you?"

"Is this what you wanted? Being fucked by two celebrities to share the experience with your friends? Of course you did. You're nothing but an attention seeking slut, only thinking about having a dick inside you"

"We'll make sure you can't even walk after this. You're not going anywhere this time, darling. Let's see how can you run away then."

She can no longer tell if what she's feeling is pain or pleasure, but when they cum inside her and she feels both of their cocks twitching inside her, it triggers her own orgams and her vision turns white. She faints in their arms, muttering and having spasms. They pause to recover their breaths too, checking on her worriedly and chuckling softly when she replies gibberish. One of them lifts her up bridal style and lay her down in the couch, both caging her with their bodies.

"You were ours from the moment you entered our your bedroom"

Tagging @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @sweetracha because they gave me ideas for this. Feel free to add something or give your own version of it. The more the merrier.

#poly minsung #minsung x reader #lee know/han jisung x reader #lee know x reader x han jisung #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #requested #skz drabble

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7-wonders · 2 years

Text

Of Jack-o'-Lanterns and Misperceptions

Summary: You carve pumpkins with two of Dream's sisters in the Dreaming!

Word Count: 1.2k (just a short lil thing!)

A/N: If you haven't read the comics, all you need to know about Delirium is that she's the baby of the family and I would protect her with my life.

The Dreaming is home to many odd and fantastical situations that one wouldn’t normally see in their day-to-day life. But even in a land like the Dreaming, seeing the little group that’s diligently working around a table that’s been set up in Fiddler’s Green gives inhabitants pause. One inhabitant in particular, upon coming across the scene, begins to fear for his life.

“Look kid,” Merv says nervously, putting his hands up in the air as if in surrender, “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much, but you didn’t have to show me in such a brutal way.”

You laugh, just barely glancing from your careful knife work to the pumpkin-headed man standing in front of you. “C’mon Merv, surely you know that carving pumpkins is a Halloween tradition!”

“Tradition or not, give a guy a little warning next time before you go around driving a knife through the same thing his head is made of.”

“To be fair,” the dark-skinned woman sitting across from you interjects, giving you a wink, “this was initially my idea.”

Merv groans. “Great, Death’s got it out for me.”

“Do you want me to try and make one that looks like you?” you ask, attempting to butter him up.

He pauses to consider this before begrudgingly leaning against the table. “...Yeah. Give it your best shot.”

It still tends to give you pause when you think about the fact that your boyfriend’s sister, the literal anthropomorphic personification known as Death, is friendly with you. Even when you meet up with her in your world, the Waking, you sometimes do a mental double take when you realize that you’re sitting in a park or enjoying a coffee with Death. The woman has made an effort to try and be a friend to you since you’re in a relationship with her brother – something you very much appreciate, considering there is a whole lot you don’t understand about that which you had believed to be fake until only a few months ago.

In fact, it was Death who had suggested this little project. She had popped by your home one night to say hello while you were watching Halloween, and had remarked how much she loved the movie. Though she couldn’t stay long enough to watch the movie in its entirety with you, you did both launch into a conversation about Halloween and everything enjoyable about it. She had mentioned how she loved to carve jack-o’-lanterns back when they were still made of turnips, and then a devious smile spread on her face before she asked if you enjoyed carving pumpkins.

That’s how you ended up here, in your lover’s domain, dragging a knife through a pumpkin and trying your hardest to beat Death in designing a jack-o’-lantern. How strange your life has become in recent months.

When Death looks up from her pumpkin and smiles, you already know who she’s looking at. Though you have no powers of your own, you can still feel Dream’s presence whenever he’s around you. When he places his large hands on your shoulders, you crane your neck around to look up at him with a grin.

“Hi, Morpheus,” you greet.

Morpheus, as is customary whenever he sees you (a true romantic, he is), kisses you softly. “My love.”

From across the table, Death makes a noise of endearment. “You two are just so cute, sometimes I cannot stand it!”

His lips twitch into a small smile, the most emotion he’ll show around his beloved sister. “Hello, sister.” Dream almost does a double take before amending his greeting. “Hello, sisters. Though I am pleased to see you both, I cannot help but be unsure of when it is that I invited you to my realm.”

“You didn’t,” Death says with a smirk. “Y/n did.”

You smile at Dream sheepishly. “We wanted to carve pumpkins, and this was the easiest place for Delirium to find.”

Delirium, the youngest sibling of the Endless, is currently staring intently at her pumpkin with her tongue poking out of her mouth as she draws on it with a marker. Nobody questions what it is she is attempting to accomplish.

“You are…carving pumpkins,” Dream observes, as if you didn’t just tell him what you’re doing. You share a look with Death over the table when he’s not looking, as if to say ‘men.’ “Why?”

“Because it’s almost Halloween!” you say cheerfully. “Surely you’ve seen jack-o’-lanterns in people’s dreams before.”

“I have. Though, I believe they were turnips and not pumpkins.”

You laugh. “Your sister told me the same thing, but that was also, like, two hundred years ago. You really need to get out more.”

“You wanna carve one, little brother?”

Morpheus shakes his head politely before sitting down next to you in a seat that he conjures from thin air. “I am more than content to just watch, thank you.”

And watch he does, though you think he watches how you interact with his sisters more than he watches the actual pumpkin carving. You can tell that this simple act, of you spending time with his blood, means a lot to him. If anybody has a complicated family, it’s the Endless. You know that they haven’t always been on the best of terms, even he and Death, and so it’s important to you that you accept his family as you’ve accepted him.

Though, you do still find it difficult to spend time with Desire, since they’re very conniving and just not a very good person. You’re working on it, though.

“I’m FiNiShEdDdDdD!” Delirium finally trills before turning her pumpkin around with her delicate hands to face you. “WhAt Do YoU tHiNk? ShE lOoKs LiKe ShE wOuLd MaKe A gOoD fRiEnD!”

She’s carved the features of a jack-o’-lantern’s face over and over again, creating a pumpkin with mouths, noses, and eyes that are in a variety of positions they are not typically found in and sideways or upside-down. After studying it for a moment, you look up and grin. “Looks great, Del. Want me to put a candle in it so that you can see it lit up?”

Delirium squeals and nods, her red curls bouncing around her face. When you place one of the electric tea lights inside the pumpkin and turn it so that she can see her masterpiece, she claps her hands together in excitement. Butterflies and tiny fish fly around her, the visible manifestation of said excitement. “I lOvE iT! dOn’T yOu ThInK iT lOoKs FaNtAbUlOuS, dReAmY? dEaTh?”

“It looks wonderful, sister,” Morpheus dutifully says.

“Fantabulous, indeed,” Death adds.

As Delirium chatters on about pumpkins and pumpkin pie and oh, the time that she found herself in a giant pumpkin with mice like Cinderella, Death listening good-naturedly, you glance over to see Dream watching you. You smile at him and kiss his cheek.

“Sorry for not asking before inviting your sisters into your realm.”

“Do not apologize. I find myself glad that you are on good terms with my sisters.” He lays a hand on top of yours. “Thank you for being so open to spending time with them. It means a lot, not only to them, but to me as well.”

“I like Death and Delirium. They’re fun to hang out with. Plus, they tell me embarrassing stories about you.”

He smirks. “Ah, so that’s been your plan all along?”

“It’s a fun, unexpected little perk.” You look over at Merv before looking at your pumpkin, making sure you’ve got his left eye just right. “Now, care to watch as I recreate your janitor on an inanimate pumpkin?”

As expected, Dream does more of watching you than he does watching the actual carving. Not that you mind, though.

#dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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anystalker707 · 1 year

Text

Pouring rain

Pairing: Gerard x [gender neutral] Reader Word count: ~ 1 700 Genre: Angst / Comfort Summary: Bitter sweet reencounters A/n: slowly going back to writing not proofread

MASTERLIST

It was a gloomy Sunday. The whole week had been hot when the temperatures suddenly dropped again, and it was all humid. None of the layers of clothes I had put on were doing well enough in that cold wind of incessant rain. The most it would do was to reduce itself to a drizzle, some sort of mist that ended up soaking through your clothes if you stood out there for too long.

Working at that diner across the city wasn’t the best thing ever, but sometimes sacrifices were needed if you wanted to save up and have that little dream come true. I knew the day would be gloomy, but I also knew the Sunday tips tended to be the largest.

The way back home was a little depressing. I gave up on using the lame old umbrella I had brought with me in my backpack. I opted for just going with the hood of my jacket over my head to at least have the excuse I’m trying to keep dry despite my slow steps. Before I could really notice, I was taking the most extended way home. Maybe it was a great break from the same study-work-sleep routine that pursued me every day of the week, even more so with such weather.

Droplets hit my face, cold, accumulating on my lashes until I blinked them away. The cold air was sharp in my lungs, and even sharper around my torso. The shivers went from my thighs to my back to my scalp. Those shitty clothes. I could’ve at least picked it better. Perfect weather to sleep or at least stay at home, and everyone fucking knew that. A car or a person would pass by only occasionally, always rushed.

Green mountains that once completed the landscape of the city, towering in the distance over the smaller buildings or appreciated from the highest spots, were now reduced to nothing. The thick white curtain of clouds would only give the mountains a break when the wind picked up enough to disperse them, but still, it wouldn’t be for long. Everything seemed to be covered in a light sheet of clear white that would become more opaque whenever the drizzle evolved into proper rain.

Perhaps I chose the most extended way for a reason. I knew it when I saw him. I’d been avoiding him for long enough; it became pointless.

Isolating myself was good until it started becoming boring, and I craved some of that agitation my life had, even if that hurt me in the end. I wouldn’t go back to what things were before all the fall-outs, the mismatching schedules, and friends moving away for better college opportunities, but a taste of it wouldn’t hurt.

Despite the cold weather, he stood under that damn tree in the park, observing god knows what. The trail of smoke coming from his mouth showed the old habits were still there. His eyes followed me as I walked by, and I knew they still followed me when I turned back on my heels and walked to him, even if my own eyes were on the wet ground.

Those same worn-down sneakers, loose Adidas sweater pants, and some hoodie with the logo of a random band already faded. All in black, but in shades that didn’t match.

Gerard inhaled, about to say something that was suddenly substituted by a groan when I hit him with the plastic bag I carried—there was nothing much, just a few candies from the diner. Nothing that would hurt. Maybe I wish it would. Secretly.

“Ow! ‘The fuck’s wrong with you?” Gerard glared, eyes narrowed and eyebrows knitted together. Hazel eyes and pale skin that gave me that painful tug on the heart.

“‘The fuck’s wrong with you?” I copied his tone and hit him with the plastic bag again, snatching a chain of curses from him. “Dude, you’re so ridiculous! You fucking suck!” Those weren’t exactly the first words I wanted to tell him in months, but I didn’t know what else to say. The words just came out naturally, and knowing me well enough, he’d easily catch on to the hidden intentions.

Gerard sighed as he dropped the cigarette butt to the ground, and it soaked on the wet soil; he still stepped on it, out of habit. A groan came from him as he rubbed his face. “You’re always showing up to ruin days.”

We didn’t part on good terms, that’s true, but none of those would stop us.

“Shut up and be thankful.” I glared at him up and down.

Despite the lack of words, Gerard’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, taking in every detail and probably gathering the clues to build a small notion of what had happened all this time I was away.

“Thankful that—”

And he never finished whatever he was going to say. He pressed his lips together and looked away the moment I glared at him. Ghosting everyone when things started to go down wasn’t the best option, but it doesn’t matter now that I was there, right? Gerard probably knew it better than anyone else in the friend group did. He would also simply disappear whenever he wanted.

Sighing deeply, I crossed my arms over my chest, letting my lips curl up into a smirk that didn’t really hold any humor. “You’ve grown more handsome, or is it just an impression?”

Gerard narrowed his eyes, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve grown more annoying.”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed, “you just aren’t so used to it anymore.”

There was no response. Gerard rolled his eyes, leaning back against the tree. His eyes were on me but then looked at something beyond, and I heard the raindrops starting to fall again. Unlike earlier, they were thicker; they started sporadically until they were absolutely soaking the ground.

“No shit,” I sighed as I stood more under the tree, stepping closer to Gerard in the hope the tree would help us. It didn’t, really. Even if less, the rain still managed to get through the leaves. The way the rain was starting to make currents down the sides of the streets made me decide to grab my crappy umbrella.

“Fucking hell!” Gerard’s voice was muffled by the sound of the rain as he watched me struggle with the umbrella—it got a little stuck as I tried to open it, some ribs getting stuck and making its shape look even worse.

“Don’t like it?” I glared at Gerard. “Then fucking solve it yourself!”

Gerard took the umbrella and held my wrist with his free hand. His grip tightened before he started running down the street, pulling me along with him. The rain ended up soaking us more anyway, but Gerard didn’t stop, nor did he give me a chance to. Fucking Gerard. Fuck him. Maybe there was no other choice but damn it.

Gerard and I were absolutely soaking wet when we finally stopped, standing on the porch of his house with our backs against the wall. My fingers were already numb before, but now they were actually aching. We stepped in some puddles while running, so my shoes felt so gross.

Still, there was some comfort at the moment. The pain and discomfort were making me feel something.

The sounds of our heavy breathing were the only sound filling the air aside the pouring rain hitting the ground and the roof tiles.

“So?” Gerard whispered as he looked at me. He seemed even paler than usual; his cheeks and nose bright red. He probably was as cold as me.

“Hate you,” I said, my voice weak from the cold and running, and faint under the sound of the rain.

Gerard scoffed and laughed, looking away. “Keep lying to yourself.”

I shook my head, and finally broke out of that trance, looking around. The porch was still the same as it was all that time ago.

“Wanna come inside?” Gerard nodded to the front door.

“I just wanted to get in touch again, not to dive right back in,” I said with a chuckle.

“And you will disappear all over again.” A sigh escaped his lips, and he rolled his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands back. “I know it can be kinda hypocritical, but I hate when you do it.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and eyed Gerard up and down. Little shit. Not that he’s wrong, no, but I always have the urge to disagree with him. Annoy him and win him with arguments.

Gerard snickered as he stepped closer. “You’re still so bitter. Maybe even more.”

“Ah, don’t act like you’re a saint,” I chuckled.

Gerard was so close, for some reason. Did I step closer as well?

Gerard’s lips were so warm against mine. It was a nice contrast in comparison to the cold rain. His hand even cupped the side of my neck a little, his thumb under my jaw to guide the direction of my head as he deepened the kiss. His hoodie was soaked, but I still held onto it gently, pulling him closer by the collar. That was a feeling long forgotten until now. All those kisses after sneaking away at parties or seeing each other after a text was sent during an extra lonely night.

The long kiss was cut off into gentle and repetitive pecks until Gerard’s lips were glued to mine again. Gerard mumbled something I couldn’t really understand, but it didn’t matter. He stepped closer and kissed me again, holding the kiss for a little longer.

My tongue ran along Gerard’s bottom lip, and his mouth immediately parted open. His mouth tasted fucking disgusting with that damn cigarette taste along with whatever he had drunk before. God, how I fucking hated Gerard. He deepened the kiss gently, his tongue pressing to mine.

Suddenly, the porch lights turned on. Donna always did that whenever it hit 5:30 pm. Either way, it put the ground under my feet. The rain sounded louder, and the cold was suddenly so much worse.

“See you, Gerard,” I whispered. I could stay there for longer, yes, but I didn’t want to face Donna again. She was too sweet. And what else would I do to Gerard? I would’ve probably slept over if I continued there, and the morning would have been filled with headaches and regrets. I’d go back home with his clothes and leave them in the bottom of the drawer after doing the laundry. Routines suck.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#my chemical romance #gerard way #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #gerard way x reader #mcr x reader #oneshot #imagine #writing

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satans-helper · 11 months

Text

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part II

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~4100

Warnings: nothing in this one;)

A/N: Sorry for the delay. My "real job" keeps getting in the way lol. But we're making great progress here regardless...hope you enjoy <3

---

He knew it was stupid beyond stupid, but Sam couldn’t get Danny out of his mind. He couldn’t stop trying to reach out. He kept thinking about how sweetly Danny spoke to him, kissed him, held him, and Sam could only think about wanting more of that. Halloween felt like a dream, not a nightmare, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Danny certainly hadn’t, Sam thought to himself while he reached up to touch his neck. More than a week had passed and there was hardly any physical evidence that anything had happened that night at all.

Sam, pacing the porch, called Danny’s phone yet again; no answer. When the automated voice urged him to leave a message, he said, “Hey, Danny–guess who? Yeah, I know. Guess I’m crazy. But I really wanna see you again, dude. Don’t leave me hanging.” When he disconnected, he held fiercely onto the hope that that would finally be the message that earned him a response.

Josh broke Sam out of his focus, sauntering out from the front door. “Aren’t you freezing?” he asked, and Sam looked down at his bare arms and bare feet. Then Josh tutted and said, “Why do I even ask?” He paused his steps across the porch, eyes slightly narrowing with curious suspicion at his brother. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” Sam said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Where are you going?”

“Grocery run,” Josh said, jingling his keys. He cocked his head to the side as Sam stood there, restless, chewing on his lip. “You wanna come?”

Sam had absolutely nothing better to do.

Just a few miles away, Danny was pacing his living room, listening to the voicemail. Just hearing Sam’s voice lit a flame inside his heart; Sam saying his name was like some far-off call that reached into his soul. Well, if he had one–he wasn’t so sure he did. If Danny did have a soul, he’d been trying to save it. He hadn’t had a drop of blood since Halloween and he felt restless too, like a caged animal except it was he himself who was keeping him locked in. He couldn't go out. If he went out, he’d just lose it all over again and have to deal with the shame once more. He didn’t have the energy.

But he also didn’t have the strength to keep away from Sam for much longer, Danny knew that, too. He hadn’t stopped thinking about him hardly at all, feeling so engrossed in his own memories of being able to touch Sam, to kiss him, to hear him speak in real time. But when he thought about the horror in Sam’s eyes as Danny assaulted him and the bruises he’d left on his body, Danny recoiled, alone and tight with that shame that made him feel so evil.

He felt at a loss. He sat down on the couch and dropped his phone to the side, staring out the window. It was unusually bright outside, the sun not giving way to what would undoubtedly soon become dreary, late-autumn days, and the shimmer of light through the blinds enticed him to get up and make that exit. The overwhelming compulsion to get up and go almost overtook him but instead, Danny picked his phone back up and replayed the voicemail.

It was pointless for Sam to keep checking his phone but he kept doing it while he trailed behind Josh, who was pushing a cart and perusing the grocery store aisles. Sam really wanted to tell his brothers about Danny but that also seemed pointless when he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell them the whole story. Nothing deterred Josh though, who began pestering Sam about what was up with him as soon as they were bringing everything back to the car.

“God, just drop it,” Sam said with a huff, squirming away from Josh, who was physically, in addition to verbally, accosting him from the driver’s seat. Sam slapped the frantic little hands away, regretting he’d let Josh pry at all.

“Drop what? You haven’t told me anything,” Josh said, finally bringing his hands back to himself and putting them on the wheel. The car was still in park, however, and Sam glanced at the dashboard wishing his brother would just go already. “What happened on Halloween, Sam?” Josh continued. “You’ve been sulking ever since you randomly disappeared from the club. Were you abducted by aliens or something?”

“No,” Sam replied, indeed quite sulkily, and thought about how hooking up with a super hot, weird, charming vampire was leagues more exciting than being abducted by aliens. Josh just stared at him; the seconds ticked by and Sam cracked. “Fine!” He threw his hands up, smacking them against the roof of the car. “Shit, ow.” He ran them through his hair instead, tilting his head back. “I met someone that night, alright, Josh? I met someone and he’s been ignoring me ever since.”

“He?” Josh echoed, eyebrows raised, face bright with interest. “Oh, now that’s interesting. I’ve never seen you get worked up over a boy before.”

“Yeah, well,” was all Sam could say. Telling Josh the bare bones of the story hadn’t made him feel any better at all. The only thing that would help him feel better, he knew, was seeing Danny again.

“So it was just like, wham, bam, thank you, Sam?”

Sam scoffed. “He’s not like that. It’s–I guess it’s just complicated.”

Josh sighed softly and brought his right hand across the console to rest on Sam’s knee. “That is no fun, Sammy. I’m sorry.” Sam appreciated the gesture, the kind touch, but one second more and Josh lifted his hand to put the car into gear. “He might come around,” he told Sam, peering back through the window as he reversed out of the parking space. “You’re not a very easy person to ignore.”

No, Sam really wasn’t. With evening light creating an orange and gold spill through his windows, Danny poured over every text Sam had sent him since Halloween, then listened to each of the voicemails over again. If he were simply a normal person, Danny would have no issue–he would have called Sam the very next day. He would have taken him out on a real date or just done whatever Sam wanted, because he did want to do whatever Sam wanted. He would have talked with Sam about real things, normal things, and learned more about who he was, not just who he appeared to be. Danny wanted Sam to know who he was too, not just who he appeared to be. Not just the monster who’d hurt him and then tried to cover it up.

He scrolled back up to the first text Sam had sent him: I know last night was weird as fuck but I still had fun. I don’t know anyone else who’s had sex with a vampire sooo thanks. What are you doing this weekend?

Danny had wanted to tell him nothing, he was doing nothing at all that weekend. But he’d left it alone and Sam had sent him another message two days later: Maybe I’m insane for not leaving you alone? Lol. But I really do wanna hang out again

Being rude, being cold and shutting someone out was not Danny’s style. He desperately wanted to text Sam back, call him back, see him again–but how could he risk it again? He felt as though he could still taste that sweet blood on his tongue. He could still smell the salt and sweat on Sam’s skin. He could feel that soft, satin skin beneath his hands and the tremors around and beneath him as Sam came. Danny wanted that again, no question. But he couldn’t figure out how he could even be in the same room as Sam without losing control again.

By the end of the night, Danny felt so stir-crazy that he was a little worried he was going to tear through the walls. Fuck it, he decided, he was going to text Sam back. He could try again. It would be okay. He was stronger than his instincts.

I’m really sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. I haven’t had a drink in a while so it might not be a good idea to see each other yet. It was the best he could come up with.

Sam, trying to ease his woes with a bong, perked up on his bed when his phone lit up, hope still rampant in his heart. He could hardly believe that Danny had finally texted him back, but what did it mean? He hasn’t had a drink in a while? Well, fuck, Sam would take him out for as many drinks as he wanted or bring a whole case of booze over to his place if Danny wanted. But as he began to type, the language actually clicked–Danny hadn’t had blood in a while. Sam had to pause, thinking about that, and maybe it was because he was so stoned or so sick over this boy, but he really didn’t care. He called; Danny, thankfully, answered, and as soon as he did, Sam said: “I can get you any drink you want, Danny.”

“You can’t get me that,” Danny replied. “And, as fucked up as it is, that’s what I need. I won’t be able to keep it together around you if I don’t get that.”

“So,” Sam began, setting his bong aside. “What do you do if you’re not like–eating people?”

Danny actually laughed a little. “I don’t think of it that way. But when I don’t have, yeah, that kind of drink, it’s pretty tough.” Sam heard him sigh. “I’ve tried before to stop completely. I can’t do it.”

It made him a little queasy to ask, but Sam did anyway: “What about like, animals?”

Danny was quick to answer: “No. I won’t do that. I can’t kill an animal.”

Sam paused for a moment before he dared to ask, “Have you ever killed a person before?” Very stupid to ask over the phone, he quickly realized, but Danny answered anyway.

“No, never. That’s not–that’s just not how I roll,” he told Sam, then took his own brief pause before he added, “But you’re the first person who hasn’t freaked out.”

Sam had a million questions, all the more reason to see Danny in person, so he asked again, and Danny sighed again.

“I don’t know, Sam,” he said slowly, and Sam felt so tightly wound trying to achieve his goal. “I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” Sam insisted, knowing he couldn’t predict that. “But even if you do, I–I might like it.”

“Come on–”

“Seriously, dude,” Sam interrupted, the confession rolling out of him easily with Danny’s voice so low and soft in his ear. “It didn’t all feel good but, shit–a lot of it did. I’m kinda bummed that all the bruises are gone.”

Danny groaned a little and Sam heard him shuffling around. “And I thought I was fucked up.”

“Please, Danny,” Sam begged, begging like he’d never begged before. “I don’t care if you’re more fucked up than I am. I like your face and your voice and your brain and I need to see you again.” He waited in the tense silence, silently then urging Danny to give in.

“Okay,” Danny finally said. “I really wanna see you, too. I have since that night. But I’m–fuck, Sam. I’m afraid.”

Sam stood up, approaching the mirror above his dresser. “You don’t need to be afraid,” he said, inspecting his neck for any trace of that Halloween night, but there was none. “It’ll be fun. What do you wanna do? Where should we go?”

“I really need to get out of here. Maybe we could just drive around or something?”

Sam was hoping for an answer more adjacent to, “Sure, Sam, come over here and I’ll fuck your brains out” but he was going to take whatever he could get. “Okay,” he said, pivoting over to his closet. “Want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Let me pick you up,” Danny said, sounding like he was also moving around again. “Text me your address.”

The drive to Sam’s house wasn’t long but it felt like an eternity, and Danny thought he had a fairly good idea of what an eternity felt like. His heart–yes, his still alive, beating heart–fluttered at the sight of Sam waiting for him on the porch, the entire length of his body pressed against a support beam as he faced the street, waiting. Sam’s steps were long too as he made his way to the car, the hardware on his denim jacket and the silver necklace hanging over his chest the only things catching the light above his head. Danny’s mouth, his throat, his skin–everything felt dry, so thirsty, and as soon as the first whiff of Sam’s natural scent hit his nose, he had to roll his window completely down.

“Hi,” Sam said, feeling quite thirsty himself. For being a stoner, he considered himself to have a pretty good memory, but memory had paled in comparison to the real thing, the real vision of Danny right there beside him. He didn’t doubt that Danny really did feel like shit, but there was no tiredness in or around his eyes; no strange pallor, despite what all the media seemed to say about vampires; nothing to deter him or concern him whatsoever. He looked gorgeous even in the faint moonlight, all dark and fierce, sharp angles and powerful masculinity that made Sam feel a little weak in the knees even if he was sitting down.

“Hi,” Danny replied, trying not to breathe too deeply. Even with the window down, letting the brisk autumn air wisp over him, Sam smelled too damn good. He put the car in drive but kept his foot on the brake. “So–where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere,” Sam said. He was all hormones, he knew it too, and by the way Danny kept declining to meet his gaze, he began to wonder if this was actually going to end well for both of them.

It would be better, Danny thought, to go somewhere with lots of people. It might help mask Sam’s scent just a little bit, though it seemed to have not worked out that way when they’d met on Halloween. But he didn’t want to go to a bar or anything and nothing else was open. With absolutely no objective, he got moving with no real destination in mind other than to get far enough to hit the rural back roads and just go until Sam told him to stop.

“So,” Sam began, watching Danny’s hand fiddle with the stereo knobs, turning up the volume just a bit, just enough for Sam to be able to hear John Lennon singing Norwegian Wood. “What have you been up to? You said you work in a school, right?” Sam wanted to clarify that at least. He couldn’t imagine being around people all day while also being a vampire.

Danny knew it sounded bizarre. “Yeah. I teach music to little kids, basically,” he told Sam while he turned on his blinker, wheels churning as he turned right, heading away from the city and into the suburbs. “Guitar, drums, ukulele.”

“But how do you do that? Isn’t it like, constant torment?”

“Uh, you know, it’s actually not that bad. I don’t know if you’re aware, but kids actually smell pretty gross.” Danny chuckled, eyes on the dark road. “And if you were gonna ask about the staff, well, the gross kid smell kinda helps to mask the adult smell. So. Yeah.”

“I was wondering that, yeah.” Sam’s eyes followed the road for a moment too, following the straight yellow tracks. “Do you remember what I do?”

“Yeah, I do,” Danny said. “You’re doing an internship for music production. You’re a dog-sitter on the side.” He could remember, because he could remember how Sam had looked as he’d told him the morning after their twisted hookup–all glowy and sweet in soft morning sun, hair fanned out against Danny’s pillow, then that glaring red and purple mess on his neck that tainted the whole picture in Danny’s mind.

Sam was pleased that Danny did indeed remember. He looked at him through the shadows and said, “Work talk is boring as shit though. I’ve got like, a million questions about what you do outside of work.”

Danny expected as much but through all his prior thinking–stressing–about it, he wasn’t sure he’d come up with any good answers. Still, he told Sam, “Shoot.”

Now that Sam was given the full opportunity, he wasn’t quite sure where to begin; it was the inadvertent flash of teeth in the moonlight that prompted his first question: “How did you become this way? In the movies and shit it’s always being bitten by another vampire first, right?”

Danny shuddered, not only from the cold wind blowing at him but the very vague, foggy memory that lived deep in his mind. It wasn’t even that long ago. It was wild how easy it was to forget. He’d been made to forget. “Yeah, that’s about it,” he told Sam, rolling his window up halfway as the road stretched onward. They were headed toward nowhere, the land beyond and beside becoming more overgrown weeds and tall trees with fewer and fewer houses between. “But to be honest,” he began, dreading showcasing his own ignorance. Weren’t vampires supposed to be super wise? He felt like an idiot. “I don’t really know that much else. Like, yeah, I guess I got some pretty fucking bad luck and someone decided, You know what, I’m having a really shitty day. Let me go ruin this guy’s entire life.”

Sam thought about it for a moment–it really did seem like some shit luck. “Do you remember who did it to you?”

“No. Some vampires can do this thing–it’s like they can make you forget. Or maybe it’s just the blood loss? I don’t know.”

“Can you make people forget?”

“No. Which is why I go out of town when I get–” Danny paused, swallowing, his throat still so dry. “When I get thirsty. Usually, anyway. Halloween was kind of a fluke–it just seemed like the place to be. I knew the risks, I guess, and didn’t care.”

“Like me,” Sam said, watching Danny’s throat bob with another tight swallow. “I know the risks but I’m still riding shotgun with you in the middle of the night. Guess that makes me a complete and total fucking idiot.” He spoke with affection and saw that Danny heard it, because those lips Sam wanted to kiss again lifted slightly, showing another short-lived view of teeth.

“I can’t bewitch people or anything like that either,” Danny assured him, though he didn’t really think he had to. “So you really are here just because you want to be.”

“So what can you do?” Sam pressed, his curiosity as deep as the black night they continued to drive into. “Can you live forever? That seems to be the biggest thing among vampires, at least ones in the movies and all that.”

“Nope,” Danny replied, leaning forward a bit, peering at the first street sign they’d come across in a while. He could sort of remember driving out this way before but in the dark, it all seemed so mysterious and spooky, which might have been saying a lot for him being a vampire. “I think of just like a disease, honestly. Like, someone infected me and it’s really not cool or fun or magical. It’s just this need to drink people’s blood.” He laughed roughly–it sounded so twisted even he could hardly believe this was his life. “I’m really glad I won’t be living forever like this. That would suck so much.”

“Oh,” was all Sam could think to say then, averting his eyes from Danny’s profile to the side of the road. He said the next statement with unwarranted confidence, hoping to stir up some self-esteem in Danny: “You’ve never killed anyone though. Isn’t that an accomplishment?”

Danny glanced over at Sam. It felt good to be recognized as someone who wasn’t a total monster, but not good enough to completely ease his heart. “I guess so,” was all he could say.

Sam felt gloomy then, processing all of this. So being a vampire really wasn’t glamorous or sexy–it was just something fucked up that happened to someone and they couldn’t control it. Danny calling it a “disease” seemed accurate based on his experience and it made Sam’s heart sink, sympathy making him feel heavy and dark, and he wasn’t sure how to voice it without coming across as pitying. He could only imagine the anguish and turmoil Danny had to deal with each day, especially on the days he couldn’t get what he needed.

“What if I let you–you know,” Sam began, moving his hands with his words. “I could let you bite me again? If it’d help.” Danny glared at him from the side, his already fierce face darker, more threatening. Surprisingly insulted, Sam deduced, but he left his offer out there anyway. “What? You can’t tell me you really didn’t expect me to offer.”

“I can honestly say I didn’t expect it,” Danny said, hands tightening around the wheel. He could have put it out of his mind enough to get through the night, but now that Sam was straight-up offering himself up like a piece of meat, the resurgence of the, yes, need was incredible. He spoke again, trying to talk himself out of his own desires: “I hurt you before and I don’t wanna do that again. You were so scared and I just kept doing it–it’s not exactly fun for me and it definitely wasn’t fun for you.”

“Sure, yeah, it was fucking terrifying and I thought I was gonna die,” Sam agreed, keeping his eyes fixed on Danny. “But now I know I’m not. Besides, I like your–hmm. Well, I like your style. Usually I’m the one in charge. It was fun for me to not be in charge for a change.”

“Not being in charge shouldn’t also mean being assaulted.”

Sam sighed softly and looked out the window again, expecting Danny to pull over and do a sudden k-turn to bring him back home. He knew it was wrong to keep going like this but, really, why had Danny relented and seen Sam again at all if he was entirely opposed to everything Sam wanted to give him? He wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew what he was willing to give over. But he still wanted to.

Danny was genuinely bewildered, though he thought maybe that was idiotic of him. He really couldn’t seduce anyone with magic powers or anything of the sort–Sam had gone back home with him because he’d truly wanted to. Danny had to lure–and, jeez, how he hated that word–people like anyone else. He never felt normal, because he wasn’t, but at the end of the day, almost everything he did was normal. Except for the bad stuff.

“I like you too much to do that again,” Danny finally said. “I’m trying not to do it at all, as a matter of fact.”

“But you’ll die if you don’t, right?”

Danny groaned at both the statement and the abrupt waft of Sam’s scent when he slowed the car into another turn, the breeze through the window dissipating for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How often do you have to do it?”

“It depends,” Danny said while he brought the car back around the way they’d come. This was futile. “It sounds disgusting, but it depends on how good it was. Like, you were good. Really, really fucking good. So that kept me, um, full longer. Like I could probably go a few more days and be fine.” He sighed, glancing over at the natural, casual seductive form that Sam embodied. “It just hurts in the meantime.”

Sam wanted to know more, of course. “What does it feel like?”

“Dry,” Danny quickly answered. “Like my entire fucking system is dry. Not just my mouth and throat, but my organs. Like I’m becoming a goddamn desert.”

Sam was just as quick with his reply: “I could be your fucking rain, man.”

Danny stayed silent, evaluating. He wanted to, no doubt about it, and when Sam reached over to put his hand on his thigh, it became even harder to resist.

---

Tagging: @mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

#danny wagner #sam kiszka #danny gvf #sam gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #sanny #gvf fan fiction #danny wagner x sam kiszka #gvf smut #stfyh

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wellpresseddaisy · 1 year

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Not quite sure what this is or if it'll go anywhere, but Ron kind of delighted me as a narrator.

Dread pooled in Ron’s gut when the Goblet of Fire lit for a fourth time.

Just like his dream last night, the one he’d laughed off while cleaning his teeth that very morning.

“Harry Potter.” The headmaster read Harry’s name off the little slip of paper belched from the Goblet.

Harry froze next to him, paling slowly as the enormity of the situation sunk in. Hermione squeaked, grabbing Harry’s hand tight.

“Harry Potter, please join the other champions.” Dumbledore sounded rather put about to have to remind him.

Harry lurched to his feet, breath coming in short bursts, and stumbled toward the front of the Hall. Ron bit his lip and thought furiously for a moment. Harry hadn’t a clue how anything in the magical world worked, of that he was certain. He’d be railroaded without someone looking out for his interests. Without considering anything further, Ron stood and strode after his friend. He knew Harry hadn’t put his name in (knew Harry would’ve involved him if he did). Knew just how much Harry wanted to avoid the whole circus of the TriWiz.

Merlin’s pants, Harry didn’t even like being called on in class and people thought he’d want to participate in something that would get him that much attention?

Harry didn’t even know his True Name, in any case. He couldn’t — he wasn’t of age and his parents couldn’t have let it slip early.

“Ron…what?” Harry squeaked as they passed by a glaring Snape.

“You aren’t going in there without someone to represent you.” Ron muttered back. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. Just follow my lead.”

And if he just pretended he knew what to do or say, well, no one else needed to know. He rather wished he’d thought to drag Hermione along, but there were limits as to what school officials (and the Ministry people) might put up with. Certainly they wouldn’t countenance being interrogated by Hermione.

And she would interrogate them. Brilliant, she was. He just had to hope he could pull this off without Hermione. He and Harry walked into the antechamber and shut the door. Everyone already there stared at them for a moment.

“Have we been called back into the Great Hall, Weasley?” Diggory asked.

“Er, no.” Ron swallowed, elbowing Harry before he could speak. “There’s been a bit of a mix-up and Harry’s name came out of the Goblet after everyone else was chosen.”

Once, when he was tiny, Ron had dreamed of making a sensation. It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, honestly. Couldn’t adult magicals keep their heads about anything? Shocking bad form from all of them. They were so deep in their panic and indignation that no one else noticed Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall entering the room or Harry scooting slightly behind Ron. Crouch, in particular, looked as if he’d sucked on a lemon. He'd probably counted on everything going smoothly while working Perce half to death. Bagman beamed generally at the group, seemingly excited by the furor, and Ron rethought his career plans. Aurors tended toward head injuries as well, didn’t they?

He used his greater height and breadth to shield his friend from the accusations. As usual, Mum was right. Sprouting up and broadening out certainly helped keep Harry from everyone else’s nonsense.

Percy goggled at the pair of them from across the room but kept shtum. Ron had never appreciated his brother more in that moment.

“Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” Dumbledore asked quietly from behind him.

At least someone wasn’t hurling vile accusations at a fourteen-year-old. Ron made sure to remember everyone else’s names for Hermione’s list.

“No, sir. I didn’t want any part of it.” Harry answered just as quietly.

Snape snorted at that, but Ron expected that sort of thing from him. Couldn’t see past the end of his prejudice against Potters, that one.

“Could someone have put his name in, sir?” Ron cut in. “I can vouch for Harry not putting his in himself. I expect most of Gryffindor can.”

“Tell me, Mr. Weasley, what are you doing here? I believe Mr. Potter was requested. Alone.” Crouch’s voice gained an icy edge Ron never wanted to hear again. But then, he did hate Weasleys.

Possibly also gingers in general, since mum had contributed to his sacking as head of the DMLE, but chucking dad into Azkaban without checking for curses first wasn’t his brightest move. Certainly he should have expected a daughter of House Prewett to raise hell over that one.

Dumbledore looked positively delighted by the turn of events. Ron couldn’t figure out why, other than maybe he didn’t much care for Crouch, either.

Or he liked a good scene. Given some of the things Ron heard from his parents (the Alchemy Shed Incident most recently), Dumbledore probably just liked a good show. Alchemists, on the whole, were mad as a bag of badgers.

“I’m his representative.” Ron explained, booting Harry in the ankle before he could say anything daft. He adored his best friend, but Harry had no grasp of a really good bluff. “After second year and all that business with Lockhart we made a handshake agreement that I would represent him in matters pertaining to the magical world, seeing as whoever is supposed to be his Magical Guardian has not done their job properly, his general guardians being non-magicals.”

Harry nodded in the right places and let him speak.

The headmaster winced a bit, which Ron thought strange. On the other hand, he got to see Snape go from glaring to looking as if he’d swallowed one of Dumbledore’s lemon drops whole. Strange that, he’d always thought Snape only had the one facial expression.

“Mr. Potter has obviously subverted Ministry decrees on the age of competitors and will be held to account. And you, Mr. Weasley, will have to leave.” Crouch seethed. Clearly he’d listened too much to the other school heads while Dumbledore questioned Harry.

Ron found himself agreeing with his mother’s view of Crouch as a Ministry official.

“Er, sir, according to Hogwarts, A History, my brother and Potter are not in contravention of any school or Ministry rules. In fact, this sort of arrangement is recommended.” Percy whispered frantically, only to be waved off.

“On further thought, sir, I think we’d best see if someone from the DMLE could Floo in. They’ll know what to look for with the Goblet. I’d suggest my mum, but she deals more in country matters.” Maybe it was dangerous ignoring Crouch like that, but Ron had nothing to say to that wanker.

Diggory had the temerity to snort something a bit rude about his mum. Ron drew himself up to his full height and skewered the older boy with a Look.

(He’d learnt that one from Hermione.)

“My mother, Diggory, is a certified law witch and Guardian at the Gate, which I should think you would remember considering all the help she gave your father in that matter with his pigs.”

Diggory shut up, showing at least some sense.

“Be that as it may, Mr. Weasley, I don’t know that we need to get the DMLE involved. The Ministry in general—”

“Actually, sir, I think that’s a splendid idea.” Percy broke in on Crouch, looking pale but determined “Mr. Potter may have been entered into a binding contract against his will. Given the history of the Tournament, this could be seen as an attempt on his life.” Percy somehow worked his way across the room as he spoke, ending up behind Harry. “I’m sure the Ministry wants everything done properly.”

Percy might have been pompous and a bit of a git, Ron thought, but he showed his Weasley colors there. Though Ron hoped he wouldn’t get the sack for it. Crouch looked ready to spit glass.

“Well said, both of you.” Dumbledore eased his way between them and Crouch. “While I would gladly stand in to represent Mr. Potter, I fear it could be seen as a conflict of interest. A third party is precisely what we need.”

Ron stifled a triumphant smirk and watched as Dumbledore set the fire in the room to allow Floo access. In just a few moments, a red-robed Auror walked through the flames. She seemed distinctly unimpressed by everyone. Ron liked her immediately.

#hp society/the ton #hp the season au #hp the season/the ton au #harry potter #ron weasley

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ask-the-royal-absol · 10 months

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*It took a few moments for Destino to get used to the feeling of the ground underneath their paws. Although they had a rocky flooring in the Underdark, it didn’t quite have the same texture as this. For one, it wasn’t as smooth. Destino found the ground here to be a slight bit painful, with all the tiny rocks and small protrusions coming from it. However, the was a faint, pleasant warmth that radiated from the ground, which Destino certainly could get used to.

The Absol took a proper look around at their surroundings just to get an idea of where about a they were heading to. They caught sight of the large rock structure that rose above what appeared to be a living space for Pokémon. Tiny houses circled the protrusion and it seemed there was a wide space around it which contained some greenery. Hope noticed Destino’s staring and stood next to them, indicating this was their destination.*

*Turning around, they could see a small area to the left of the tunnel which they had come from which had a small, wooden hut. Small orange flower decorations had been painted around the bottom of the square hut and there appeared to be no windows to peer inside of it. This must be the one Hope had mentioned. They hoped it was at least semi-decent inside because the size was less than ideal. Perhaps they should have brought all of their belongings. It probably would have made their stay here more tolerable. They strutted over to the hut.*

*Destino stopped before entering.*

Destino: Prime. My address is Prime. Not Prince. Not Princess. Prime. Prime Destino. Is it really that hard to get right? Come on buddy, get with it. Do I have to spell it out for you so you can get it into your thick skull? Or perhaps I need to sit you down and force you to recite my title until you get it right. I’m not heading anywhere until I get my beauty sleep. I’m hoping this one is not interrupted by my prophecy dreams. As I’ve said, the eye-bags are not something I’m fond of.

*With the door now open, Destino strolled inside of the hut. The first thing they noticed was the light source inside of it. A small, orange flame hovered in the air above everything. However, it wasn’t as bright as the outside light. Destino pondered on how the flame hung in the air without any support. It wasn’t attached to anything. It wasn’t something Destino could explain. They took off their sunglasses, prompting their ghostly friend to pop out of them. The sunglasses were tucked neatly into their fur. Felix gave a stretch before looking around the small space.*

Destino: Felix. I have very high standards. These standards need to be met. With a bed like that, I’m sure it’ll feel just like sleeping on the floor. Do you understand what this will do to my back? I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t walk when I’ve finished my nap. Then you’ll have to carry me.

Felix: Destino. Perhaps ya should just be grateful ya gettin’ somewhere ta sleep. It’s only for a short bit. Ya can survive. Besides, ya know what this reminds me of?

Destino: No. What?

Felix: That cabin we stayed in durin’ that school trip.

Destino: Oh yes, the one where you were on top bunk and got yourself stuck and had to ask my help to get you out.

Felix: Heh, yeah. It wouldn’t happen anymore.

Destino: Of course not. Wasn’t that the trip where Sketch drew a massive mural of the teachers across several trees?

Felix: I think ya right on that one too. It was really somethin’.

Destino: It was fine. I’m could probably do better.

Felix: Pal, no offence but ya ain’t great at the whole art thing. Ya gotta recognise that Sketch has a talent for it. Have ya seen him recently?

Destino: No. Been busy with my royal duties and all. Though he did make that painting of my family and I that is hung up. I wouldn’t admit it to him but he may or may not have done a pretty good job capturing my likeness. Of course it can’t compare to the real thing.

Felix: That does seem like his work. Anyways, back onto what I was about ta say. Just imagine this hut like the school trip cabin. Sure, it’s not got everything ya need but ya have slept in a place like it before. Besides, I’m here as well if ya need anythin’.

Destino: I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Felix, for coming along as well. I’m great and all and I’m sure I’m going to be the world’s best chosen one but it’s nice to have a piece of home here with me, you know?

*As much as Destino was overly confident about their abilities, they knew they wouldn’t be able to survive on this trip without their best friend. They may not have said it much but Destino did appreciate Felix for everything he did. Felix had been there when they were almost killed by Mistress Mirage. He saved them from drowning in the aquifer that one time. Felix wasn’t afraid to call them out when they had crossed the line. So many moment where Destino would have been screwed if Felix wasn’t there for them. And now this? Coming to a new land with them and being by their side as they had to find some way to save the world from who knows what. It did make Destino wonder how Felix got the time off from his job to come on this surface excursion with them. They’d have to ask about it later.

It made Destino think back to all of the other friends they had had. Many of them had ended their friendships with Destino. Then again, those Pokémon weren’t good enough for the absol or just wanted to be friends with them for the privilege of being close with royalty. Destino didn’t actually have anyone else besides Felix. It was strange to think about.*

Felix: I figured ya would need someone. I also know that you and Hope would probably kill each other if I wasn’t here.

Destino: And it would be easy too.

Felix: Of course it would be. I should probably leave ya to nappin’.

Destino: What are you going to do?

Felix: I’m probably gonna speak with Hope. Get some more info on what’s gonna happen.

Destino: Of course. Gather intel on the enemy. That’s why I like you Felix. You’re always wanting to do things to benefit me. Fair enough, I shall leave you to it but I don’t want you both to be talking about me this time, got it?

Felix: Ha, alright.

*Felix has left to speak with Hope. Destino is available for 5 asks before they prepare for a nap and Felix and Hope are available for asks together.*

@thepersonaking56

#pokemon ask blog #pokemon #pokemon askblog #pokemon oc #ask blog #ask the royal absol #destino the absol #chapter 3 #I want to take every opportunity I can get to use my new emotes #they all fucking slap #thanks eve

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re-re-redline · 9 days

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—Hypothetical Dialogue: Mehmed II—

No spoilers for… anything really.

Foreword: Well, I can safely say that this definitely wasn’t in my to-do list. I was having a lot of trouble outlining his RHC and I decided on a whim to try my hand at this for a change of pace which leads us to here!

I have written his ascension lines, his bond lines, his conversation lines along with a few character interaction lines, the birthday line annnnnnd…his Bond 10 line. You know…the Arcade exclusive bond level 10 line. Onore Arcaido This is much shorter than most of the things I’ve written, which is kinda watering my wheels but voicelines aren’t supposed to be beefy, so that is a plus I suppose.

That in mind, I do hope you enjoy this unforeseen post.

Summoning:

“Hahaha! Do I really need an introduction? You already—eh? It’s customary? Ah, fine. Servant class: Archer! I am sultan Mehmed II, but you may know me best as the Father of Conquest or as The Conquerer. I have answered your summons, and from this day forward I shall aid you in achieving your dreams.”

1st Ascension:

“Whew… While I do enjoy clothing from the modern era, I do feel as though this is a better fit for me as a whole. After all, that outfit doesn’t exactly scream ‘sultan’ does it? But you should know that this attire is not for combat. That will be for later. So don’t hold back on those materials, Master!”

2nd Ascension:

“Eh? If not for battle then what is this—pah! Administrative affairs, of course. What? Did you think that all I did was fighting? Ugh, I suppose I should have seen that coming with my title… I did not only wage war in my day, Master, I spent a great deal of time reforming and strengthening the system. Laws, government, education—all of those strides were made under my rule and the results were a much more manageable empire for my son and his sons after. So don’t forget that I was not only an excellent military strategist, but an exemplary ruler as well!”

3rd Ascension:

“Ah… That day… Hehehe… Hm? Oh, my bad. I forgot you were standing there, Master. It’s just that this armor invokes a rather strong sense of nostalgia that nearly swallowed me whole! …Ahem, this is what I wore when I conquered Kostantiniyye, and I remember that day as though it were only a mere hour in the past. It was the best day of my life, and the beginning of my path to greatness.”

Final Ascension:

“…But on that day, something ended. I do not regret putting it to rest, but at the time I had thought that I could keep it alive if I gave it everything I had. It didn’t work, obviously, and to many across the world I was spitting on its grave by giving myself that title and acting that way. In truth, I was showing my reverence and my love in one of the only ways I knew how at the time. Of course, none of her former states acknowledged my new title or my efforts and their resentment of me and my empire grew tenfold. But that didn’t matter, none of that mattered. Because I had her, sweet Kostantiniyye… My childhood dream.”

Bond 1:

“When I had heard that the world had ended and that the one who was calling me was to be the one to save it, I had expected you to be…much more serious. This is a situation far more grave than anything I had ever been through, yet here you stand before me with that jovial mien about you. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of you, Master.”

Bond 2:

“The more I look at you, the more intriguing you are. That plain appearance belies something far more than the sum of its parts and I have full intentions to figure out just what that is. So don’t you dare go calling me some kind of creep for observing you, okay? If we are to work closely together like this, then I should have a firm grip on who you are as a person. And I implore you to apply the same amount of scrutiny to me as well. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

Bond 3:

“Hm? I act strangely too? Ah…well. I’m not exactly running my empire right now, so I find that there isn’t a need to behave so stiffly. Plus this place is chock full of people with my level of fame and prestige who behave much worse than I do. …It’s not a bad thing? Hah, you and I are in the minority on that front. My father… Ugh, you know what? Forget him. That man is not here and even if he were, I answer to you now. That’s what matters.”

Bond 4:

“Jovial mien…what a joke. You’re exhausted beyond belief, you’re sore down to the marrow in your bones, you might just be at your wit’s end and yet here you stand before me with a determination to stand solely on your own two legs. It’s ridiculous. …Don’t give me that look. Who better to recognize the signs better than me? I am The Father of Conquest, I know everything there is to know. But I digress. As tribute to the Ottoman Empire, I order you to go to bed! I will take care of any administrative affairs that are on or will come to your desk. Yes, I’m serious. Now go.”

Bond 5:

“…So you have seen me in my entirety too, have you not? …It’s alright. I’m not angry about it. In fact, I think it’s a good thing that you know now. Such close relations between two people should seldom hold secrets, after all. Which is why… I think I’ll be forward in saying that I will not leave you be. No matter what happens, who you become or what the world makes of you, know that I will stand at your side proudly. …Why? Is it not obvious? You, Master, are but a reflection of myself and I can’t help but feel as though I must take responsibility for that. This obligation thrust upon you has been your life for so long and, well, chances are that you will die doing this. Just as I did in my time. You will look back and wonder if you have wasted your life, wonder what could have been if you were a normal person. But that is if you die here. Which I will not allow. You will see your journey end and you will enjoy the fruits of your labor in peace. That… That is a promise. One I will uphold even if it should kill me in the process.”

Bond 5 (Post Event Clear):

“So this is the agony of losing an empire… I regret nothing. What I did was not only righteous, but it was the fulfillment of my destiny. It just so happened that Kōnstantînos was on the receiving end of such things. This isn’t to say that I hold no sympathy. As a fellow human under the same sun, I… No. I’ll save it for when him and I finally have an honest conversation. …Master, keep an eye on Kōnstantînos. Closure is not equivalent to healing, it is the beginning. With this having happened, he will need all of the time and support he can get. The road will be long and while Kōnstantînos has it in him to move forward, he needs someone who will keep him on the right track. There will come a time when he will not be able to discern which way is forward or backward, that is when you show him the way. Such is your duty as his master, and more importantly, his friend.”

Conversation 1:

“Your to-do list, bring it here. Eh? You don’t have one? You just remember… No. Absolutely not. Sit down and list off everything you have to do today, tomorrow and every day after. Organization is of utmost importance and I will not have my master be a scatterbrained fool who completes their obligations whenever they feel like it!”

Conversation 2:

“My relationship with you? Oh-hoh, no need to be so coy! You can simply confess your feelings for me without the pretense, I will allow… That’s not what you meant? Ah. Ahhh… The Master-Servant relationship… Well. I am one of the greatest men to have existed and you are the Last Master of Humanity, so we are close to being equals but not quite there. My experience and wisdom place me slightly above you. So I expect you to treat me as a mentor of sorts.”

Conversation 3:

“You really do ask whatever comes to mind, don’t you? Hmph, if this were back in my day I’d have you severely punished for having the audacity to ask such a personal question. Which is why you should be thankful that I am willing to give you the key to answering it instead. Master, if you truly wish to know what I think of you… Then look at me. Very, very hard and for a long, long time. Once that is done, ruminate on what you have seen. This is observation, the essence of finding the truth.”

Conversation 4 (If you have Kōnstantînos XI):

“Is that…? It really is. Emperor Kōnstantînos XI, it’s a pleasure to be—wah! Hey, hey, hey! Put the sword away! I’m not here for…eh? I’m a bad influence on Master? Whaaaaaat? If anyone’s a bad influence on Master, it’s that godawful vampire!

Conversation 5 (If you have Kōnstantînos XI and Bond Level 5):

“…Has he left? Good. *Sigh* I know that I’m practically responsible for his death, but you’d think that dying would put these sorts of things to rest. It’s a shame that he’s like this, though, I’d have liked to speak about what I had done with Kostantiniyye after his passing and I would have liked to hear…how it was to live in there from his perspective. What I knew and had seen was a half-dead city, but to him… I’m sure he saw something beautiful. Maybe someday we can have that honest conversation about the city we loved.”

Conversation 6 (If you have Vlad III or Vlad EXTRA):

“That thing… There’s TWO of him?! No, no. Speak no more. I don’t want to know, nor do I want anything to do with him. *Shudder* Just thinking of him brings the scent of blood and ash to my nose.”

Conversation 7 (If you have Elisabeth Báthory):

“Master. On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the worst, how dangerous are a woman’s heels? …You’re not sure? Well, I can safely say that it is a 10. I had tried to strike up a friendly conversation with miss Báthory, only to narrowly avoid a fate worse than death. Judging by her comments, I believe that the devil she calls her ‘uncle’ informed her about me beforehand. Honestly, I haven’t a clue why she reveres him so much.”

Conversation 8 (If you have Astraea):

“Hello again—ow—Master. Oh, this? Ah, I got this from the Lady Justice herself. In my efforts to get administration to create and enforce rules for once, my shenanigans have unfortunately attracted the ire of none other than Astraea. To receive a suplex from a goddess may seem like an honor to some, but my neck and shoulders feel so stiff now. Ugh…I feel 20 years older.”

Conversation 9 (If you have Janta, Jack the Ripper, Paul Bunyan (Berserker), or Nursery Rhyme):

“Master… I know this may sound rich coming from me, but don’t you think it’s morally reprehensible to be sending Janissaries this young into the battlefield? …Eh? They aren’t Janissaries? And you can’t stop them from heading into the battlefield even if you tried? Well…hmph. This is a dilemma. If they haven’t caused you problems yet, then I suppose it should be fine. Just…keep an eye on them. I personally didn’t have this issue, but my successors found them to be more trouble than they’re worth.”

Likes:

“What I like? To answer that would take at least 3 hours, but I’ll water it down for you. I like my empire, cannons, rules and order, history and literature, the fine arts, the internet… There’s a lot to like in the world. But above all, I love Kostantiniyye. Er…you know her best as Constantinople. She is my crowning achievement and the apple of my eye. Strange to say about a city, I am aware…but were you to go there yourself, you’d realize that she is more than that. Much, much more.”

Dislikes:

“A good question…What DO I dislike? …Mmh… I probably should hold my tongue here. My next words could very well start a holy war! And that should be saved for when this is all over. Hehe…I’m looking forward to finally putting—ah, I almost said it. Again, that’s for later.”

About The Holy Grail:

“So this is the Holy Grail I’ve heard so much of… It definitely lives up to my expectations now that I have seen it in person. But the power within… No, I should not wish upon the grail. All of my achievements were by my hand and with God’s blessing. To wish upon the grail would devalue everything I had worked for and call my strength into question. I would only accept such a thing if there were no other options. So, do hold off on that.”

During an Event:

“Hahaha! Do you FEEL that, Master?! Hehehe! This is clearly what the beginning of a campaign feels like! Fortune favors the bold and the swift, Master, now follow me! After we get done sacking and rebuilding their city, I’ll teach you how to negotiate tributes and how to deal with those who don’t pay. These lessons are best taken hands on, so I expect you to be paying full attention!”

Birthday:

“Hehe… I know that look and I know what day it is. It is your birthday and I, in fact, have already prepared a gift for you. …Behold! A working replica of THE cannon I used to breach the Theodosian Walls! Splendid, is it not? Haha! I knew you’d like it. See, Master? THIS is where your tribute goes. Directly into things like this! Yes… Happy birthday, Master. May your dreams come true in the coming year.”

Bond 10:

“Hm? Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment there. In any case, you’ve come at the right time. Here, sit beside me. Yes, there. No, it’s not too close. This small, tiny gap between us represents more than physical space. Meaning… Hehe. You already know, don’t you? I need not waste my breath then. …Remember when I had told you that I would stand beside you always? I had also, in a roundabout way, presented the question I had been asking myself ever since you summoned me. Did I waste my life putting my everything into my empire? And the answer is no. Not just because of the great things I did, but also because of what it lead to after my death. That being my time with you. Yes… I can’t remember the last time I had so much free time and so much leeway. Which is why I would like to say, from the deepest depths of my heart… Thank you, Master. For giving me everything I had missed when I was alive and so much more, thank you.”

Endnote: And that’s that! I’m pretty happy with how I’ve written his dialogue and what that says and implies about him as a whole. A somewhat nice balance between levity and seriousness with a side of nagging mentor figure. His darker side comes out a little bit in his 3rd ascension line and would come out in his battle lines with how much he’d be laughing and saying some very disturbing shit on top of it.

Oh, and that “Post Event Clear” thing is just a hypothetical for a Constantine-centric event I want to write (since Lasagna doesn’t feel like it) that I’ll put to words sometime soon. Hehe… It’s similar to an idea I proposed in a reblog a while ago but ultimately it’ll be the Micheal show. So do look forward to that.

From the beginning, I was planning on Mehmed’s desire to know everything and how destructive that can be to be his main issue, but as my internal hamster wheel got rolling, I realized that it’d be a little bit cooler to put that to the side a bit—since he mostly has a handle on himself anyways—in favor of Mehmed looking back on his life and wondering if it was a fulfilling one beyond his achievements. Here in Chaldea, he can pretty much do whatever he wants. He’s not the sultan anymore nor is he cooped up in his room studying to be the sultan someday, he’s just here and having all this freedom kinda fucks with him a bit since he’s so used to being caged. And to top it all off, he has a master who he sees himself in which messes with him even more. He eventually reaches the answer when he hits bond 10 and he sincerely expresses his gratitude for the assistance in him reaching that answer. Buuut until then he’ll be ruminating on that as well as if his life would have been more fulfilling if he was a normal person born to a normal family.

In other more Redline news, I watched Haibane Renmei recently and hoo boy was that shit so good! It gave me some inspiration for a few things as well as made me cry several times, so you know it’s good. Honestly, I want to draw Constantine as a Haibane because that’d fit him so well. Both the sub and dub are on youtube, so if you’re interested then look there!

But that’s just me. I hope you all enjoyed and have a nice night, everyone.

—Redline, over and out!

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