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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

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summary: when your little brother is taken by the mischievous faeries, you have no choice but to follow him. in an attempt to save him, you somehow get yourself into a bigger mess that involves magic, a seemingly friendly demon you strike an unexpected deal with and the dangerous, yet alluring king of the faeries.

pairing: demon!hyunjin x witch!reader x faerie!felix

genre: angst, smut, fantasy

warnings: lying, manipulation, wings kink (is that a thing?), trust issues, sensory deprivation (just sight), nyctophobia (fear of darkness), marking, mentions of blood, eating out, unprotected sex, cockwarming, pet names (e.g. kitten, darling, sweetcheeks, etc.), slight possessiveness (which is ironic, considering the next tag), open relationships, a whole load of foreshadowing, intoxication, exhibition, public grinding, dumbification, humiliation, hair pulling, biting, hickeys, suicide (kinda?), open ending

author’s note: for this story i drew inspiration from the movie Labyrinth, the books Wintersong and The Cruel Prince, i strongly recommend them to those interested in faeries & goblins 💞🧚🔮

word count: 7.9k

part two (finale)

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Ever since you remembered, your parents had warned you against faeries. Theirs was a different kind of magic, they always said. The type of magic that’s unpredictable and they will always find a way to twist your words and trick you into doing something you don’t want to do. Something they want you to do. Naturally, you had little desire to meddle with faeries. You never dared to venture on your own into the forest, because all the stories said that was where they resided. Hidden behind the trees were secret portals leading to the faerie kingdom you avoided at all costs.

But that was until your little brother mysteriously disappeared one night. You knew that he had high aspirations to be the most talented musician there was. Not being granted with magical abilities like you were, all his life he felt like he was invisible, drifting away in your shadow. But you always thought that music was enough for him. Always thought that he was proud of your achievements just as you were of his.

When he vanished from his room that night, you didn’t allow yourself to panic. Instead, you chose to focus on what clues you could find to determine his location. And after rummaging his desk, you discovered just the thing you were looking for. It was a spell that was meant to summon faeries. And even though your little brother did not possess magic, that kind of spell didn’t require having magic. It only required a soul desperate for greatness.

You had heard thousands of stories of talented artists, musicians and dancers who had given up their entire lives so that they could be the best there were in the faerie kingdom. So that they could be treated like royalties. But just at the beginning and on the surface. Eventually, the cruel faeries always grew tired of mortals. Discarding you like you were less important than playthings.

You couldn’t waste any more time. After all, it flew differently down there. The more seconds passed, the more he was in danger of losing himself. Losing every part of his being that made him...well, your little brother. Lucky for him, you knew just where you would be able to find him. But it was too perilous a journey to risk your parents’ lives, as well.

Sneaking away in the middle of the night, you hurried into the forest, looking for one of those secret portals that would lead you into the land of faeries. As you were touching the trees, searching for a glint of magic, you knew you had probably made a terrible decision, not asking your parents for help. But you’d always taken care of your little brother like he was your most important responsibility. If something happened to him, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. But if something happened to your parents, you would find no reason to continue living.

There it was. Walking through the blue light that you supposed would teleport you into the faerie kingdom, you knew that returning from this would be difficult, if not impossible. But for your brother, it was a risk you were damn willing to take.

On the other side you were greeted by the warm embrace of a miraculous world. The multitude of colours, scents and sounds amazed you. And so you felt as if you enchanted for the briefest of moments. Mentally slapping yourself and reminding your brain that you were on a mission to rescue your brother, you walked forward with determination, occasionally stopping to look around and make sure you weren’t just running in circles. Once you were satisfied that you were actually making progress, you kept going.

You couldn’t tell how much time you had spent and you knew that watches really didn’t really work in the land of faeries so just when you were beginning to question whether this was a mistake, a figure suddenly appeared in front of you.

“Hyunjin?” you yelped in surprise upon seeing your imaginary friend from your childhood. “What are you doing here? You’re not real, are you? I’m just too tired from all the walking so I’m seeing things...” you kept on babbling.

“I assure you, sweetcheeks, I’m very much real,” Hyunjin responded calmly. “As for what I’m doing here, isn’t it obvious? I want to help you find your brother in this dangerous faerie kingdom.”

“How did you know my brother is missing?” you were beginning to grow suspicious of his intentions. “And how did you even get here?”

“Through the blue light portal, just like you did. As for your brother, hm, let’s just say I’m something like your guardian angel. I’ve been keeping an eye on you two.”

This was beyond strange. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin since you were ten years old. That had been ages ago...

“So, you want to help me? But what’s in it for you?”

“I can’t tell you just yet,” he replied evasively. “I may ask for a small favour one day. If you choose to trust me and let me assist you, that is.”

You nodded, as if in a haze, finding it impossible to refuse. You were so desperate to find your brother as soon as possible that you would have said yes to anything.

“I’ll trust you, Hyunjin. For old times’ sake.”

“For old times’ sake,” he repeated. “You’ve been walking so much your legs must hurt. Here, let me make it easy for you.”

Before you could protest, he lifted you up in his strong arms and started flying. Your mouth flew wide open as you stared at his black wings piercing the air.

“H-hyunjin,” you stammered, wrapping your hands around his neck for support. You couldn’t resist the urge to reach your hand out and gently stroke his beautiful feathers. “Where have you been hiding those?”

“Shh, it’s a secret,” he winked. After a while, he landed, carefully placing you on the ground. “We have arrived.”

“Is that the faerie king’s palace?” you asked in amazement.

“I’m no expert but it sure looks like it,” Hyunjin shrugged.

“Are you coming inside with me?”

He shook his head to your utmost disappointment. Relying on him for everything would have been way too easy.

“I don’t think the faerie king will be too happy to see an angel, but here’s what we’ll do. Take this,” he said, putting a silver ring on your finger. “Rub it three times and I’ll appear before you if you need my help. As long as he doesn’t see me, we’ll figure out a way to bring your brother back.”

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you expressed your sincere gratitude. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Probably still walk myself to the point of exhaustion.”

Hyunjin waved you off.

“Don’t thank me just yet. Do it once your brother is safe.”

You nodded with a hopeful smile as you walked through the palace’s golden gates. Looking behind you, you were sad to realize Hyunjin had already disappeared. You were on your own now.

“State the purpose of your visit,” the faerie guards interrogated you rightaway.

“I require an audience with your king,” you announced confidently. “Regarding the disappearance of my brother.”

The guards exchanged a mischievous look and escorted you to the throne room. You were all nerves but tried not to let it show. You had to tread very carefully and play your cards right if you wanted to rescue your brother. You knew that faeries were really skilled at tricking people and even though you had an idea what to expect, you were still uncertain of what to say next. Would your magic be enough to help you in such a situation? Or would it be useless against the immortal faerie king?

You couldn’t find the answers you were seeking because your eyes were soon met with the supreme ruler of the faerie land. When he finally spoke, you were stunned speechless by the stark contrast between his delicate features and his deep voice.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a witch visiting. To what do I owe the pleasure?” the faerie king inquired.

“I am here to humbly ask for my brother back,” you replied proudly before adding. “Your Majesty.”

He chuckled darkly and urged you to come closer with his hand. As you approached hesitantly, you wondered if all faeries had that almost invisible power of commanding mortals so easily.

“I assume you mean our latest guest, the musician? I can see the resemblance,” the faerie king mused out loud. “Bring him,” he ordered the guards.

Soon enough, your little brother was escorted into the throne room. Seeing that he was in one piece caused you to sigh in relief but you still couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him tightly as if to make sure he was standing there, real and still breathing.

“Jisungie,” you cried out. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, noona, I’m fine,” your brother reassured you with a devoid look in his eyes. “I wanted to come here.”

“You did?” you exclaimed. “That’s right, you did,” you confirmed, reminding yourself of the spell you’d found in his room. “But you can’t stay here. It’s far too dangerous. We have to go back to our world. To our parents. Don’t you want that more?”

To your dismay, Jisung shook his head.

“Why would I want that? I was nothing but an ordinary human back there. Here, the faeries like my music. They think I’m special.”

“You were never ordinary, Jis,” you protested. “I love your music. Our parents do, too. And soon enough, the whole world will. Just come back to me.”

As if woken up from a trance, Jisung suddenly blinked at you in surprise.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here. I want to go back to our world, noona.”

Finally, you grinned gleefully. But your joy didn’t last long, interrupted by the faerie king’s laughter.

“You should have thought about that before coming here, then.”

You stared at the king defiantly.

“You can’t keep him here against his will!” you hissed.

“Oh, but I’m the faerie king. I can do as I please.”

You clenched your fists angrily, wondering if it was too early to summon your magic and attack him. Knowing it would probably do little damage and annoy him more, you chose to wait it out.

“Unless...”

“Unless what?” you snapped. “Your Majesty.”

“Unless I’m offered something more tempting than a human musician.”

You didn’t need him to be explicit to know what he was suggesting.

“You want me to stay in his stead?” you had to make sure.

“I’m not that cruel,” he smiled, a little too sugary-sweet for your liking. But why, oh, why were you finding his words so hard to believe? “Three tasks. That’s all I ask. If you complete them successfully, I’ll let both of you go. Sound fair?”

Deals with faeries were far too dangerous. But what choice did you have? If you didn’t agree to it, Jisungie would have to stay here forever. Or worse. Get hurt. If you did agree, at least you both had a chance to get out of this place and back to your world.

“Deal,” you agreed after a moment of consideration.

The faerie king left his seat and stalked towards you slowly, pulling you into a handshake. He didn’t let go of your hand. Not before whispering in your ear:

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to stay.��

His words sent shivers down your spine. Because of how afraid you were they might come true.

Once you were escorted to your new room (which to your sadness was nowhere near Jisung’s), you hurriedly rubbed the silver ring Hyunjin had given to you earlier, feeling the need to talk to him. In this strange place you felt like everything was against you and you were already on the brink of losing your sanity. Soon enough, your imaginary childhood friend (who had turned out to be very much real) and now only ally appeared in front of you. Without thinking much, you flung yourself towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Miss me that much?” Hyunjin joked.

“You have no idea,” you sighed loudly. “This place is horrible. I don’t know how I’ll survive.”

“As long as you didn’t make a deal with the faerie king, you’ll be fine.”

You purposefully avoided Hyunjin’s intense stare because that was just the thing you had done, completely ignoring all the warnings your parents had given you. Never trust faeries. Needless to say, you didn’t trust the faerie king, but you saw this as the only opportunity you had to give Jisung the freedom and life he deserved.

“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal with the faerie king,” Hyunjin repeated.

“I had no choice, okay?” you defended yourself. “I want my brother out of here and if I complete the tasks successfully, he’ll let us both go.”

“You really think the faerie king will stay true to his word?”

“I can only hope,” you shrugged.

“And you’re confident you can accomplish those...tasks?” Hyunjin asked through gritted teeth. “On your own?”

“But I have you, right? You promised you’d help me save Jisung.”

“Of course I will do my best to assist you. But if the faerie king starts to suspect my involvement, this might not end well. For either of us.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“And you won’t tell him a word about my existence?” Hyunjin wanted to make sure.

“I swear I won’t,” you vowed.

“There’s my good girl,” Hyunjin murmured and caressed your cheek gently. Comforted by his touch, you closed your eyes.

The next week spent in the faerie kingdom went by without much excitement. You were allowed to be around Jisung for the time being and he was showing you all sorts of magical instruments created by the faeries, as well as the beautiful flowers and lakes in the palace’s garden. However, in the moments you noticed him falling victim to all the glamour of this world, you were forced to remind him of the reason you were here in the first place. To rescue him from the faeries’ influence and help him back to your land. You were fearful that the more seconds passed in the land of the faeries, the more difficult it would be to leave...

One evening, you were summoned by the king’s guards. Expecting to be led into the throne room you’d seen yesterday, you mentally prepared yourself for a war of words with the tricky faerie. What you didn’t expect, though, was to be escorted to the king’s private chambers. Once the doors closed behind you, you fell into a state of panic. What were you supposed to do? Was it time for your first task? You felt totally unprepared.

“Want to give up already?” the faerie king’s velvety deep voice greeted you.

“Never,” you announced, holding your ground.

“Are you ready to play by my rules, witchling?”

You were determined to make his game into your own. So you simply nodded bravely.

“Very well, then. Your first task is simple, if I say so myself,” the faerie king began explaining. “If you survive until next sunrise without relying on your eyes, consider it achieved.”

You were aware that time passed differently in the faerie world. But how long could it be until the sunrise? You were fairly certain it wouldn’t last forever. Still, you felt inclined to ask:

“Where is the catch, Your Majesty?”

“Other than losing your sight?” the faerie king laughed. “It wouldn’t be fun if I told you now, would it?”

You gulped nervously.

“Go ahead. Take my sight.”

When he’d mentioned the nature of your first task, you’d anticipated a blindfold or something. But nooo, you had underestimated how literal faeries tended to be. The second you’d said that, the last thing you saw was the faerie king waving in the air. And then, there was darkness. You were pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain. And unpleasantly surprised by the terrifying silence. It felt like it lasted for eternity when you finally gave in and spoke:

“Where are you?” you mewled, feeling pathetic by how scared you felt. Not because you’d lost your sight but because you had no idea what he’d do next. Even though you still had your magical abilities, you’d never been so...vulnerable. If your parents could see you now, they’d probably be disappointed. But they weren’t here. And you had to remember you were doing this for Jisung’s future.

“I’m right here, kitten,” the pet name made you flinch in a mixture of unease and anticipation. “Aw, don’t be scared,” the faerie king mocked you.

This did little to reassure you. On the contrary, it made you even more nervous.

“I can give you your sight back rightaway if you wish. But then our deal’s off. And both you and your brother will have to stay here. Forever.”

You shook your head.

“No, I can do it.”

“I like how ambitious you are,” he chuckled. “And because I’m in a particularly generous mood tonight, I’ll let you choose your poison.”

“Poison?” you shuddered.

“Not actual poison, sweetheart, relax,” the faerie king elaborated. “I’ll let you choose how you want to spend the night without your sight. Option number one is to spend it in complete solitude, I won’t bother you at all. You’ll be alone. ”

You were already dreading option number one. If the brief moments of utter darkness and silence had terrified you so much, you had no idea how you would be able to survive until sunrise like this.

“Option number two is to spend it with me. But we’ll do whatever I like.”

It was like he knew your deepest fears like the back of his hand. As much as you knew you should be cautious of the faerie king’s tricks, you couldn’t imagine spending the night alone. You could probably rub your silver ring and call for Hyunjin but...without your sight, you were afraid the king would see. And you had promised Hyunjin to make sure he wouldn’t know of his existence. So, option number two it is.

“What do you like?”

“So predictable you picked number two,” the faerie king laughed right next to your ear. “To answer your question, I like bold witches who think they can challenge me. I like proving them wrong.”

“We’ll see about that,” you murmured. “Pun-intended.”

“Cute. You really think you can beat me at my own game?”

“I know I can, Your Ma-”

You couldn’t even react when the faerie king kissed you, effectively shutting you up. All you knew was that against any common sense, against your better judgement, you were kissing him back. Like a damned fool. Suddenly, his cold hands were on you and as if by magic, you realized your dress was gone, bare skin attacked by the freezing air. Gripping your lower back harshly, you knew his hands would leave marks the following day but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Felix,” he interrupted the kiss.

“Huh?” you mumbled in confusion.

“My name. It’s Felix. I want you to call me it when we’re alone. Not Your Majesty.”

“You shouldn’t have told me your name. What if I use it against you?” you suggested, referring to the myth that knowing a faerie’s name holds great power over these beings.

“You can’t,” the faerie king chuckled. “Because it’s not my real name. Do you honestly think I’m so stupid to give it to you?”

“N-no,” you stammered. “Of course you’re not.”

“Good. Now, I believe we were doing something far more entertaining than discussing the nature of names,” he pushed you onto what you imagined was his bed, using one hand to keep you in a lying position and the other to hold your thighs spread apart. When he began placing soft kisses between your legs, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. How had you ended up here? With the faerie king?

“F-felix,” you moaned despite yourself when you felt his tongue bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. “P-please.”

“Come for me, kitten,” his voice was a quiet caress, causing you to fall into a trance-like space. You didn’t need to be asked twice as you released, shaking uncontrollably under his mischievous touch. “There you go.”

“I wish I could see you,” you whimpered in your post-orgasm bliss.

“You could,” Felix was trying to tempt you. “Just say the word and I’ll bring your sight back.”

“No, no!” you began thrashing around. “I’ll wait until the sunrise.”

“I admire your patience, witchling. Tell me, what do you want next?”

“I thought we were only doing whatever you like, Felix,” you were foolish enough to remind him. It wasn’t like he could possibly forget.

"Whatever you like is whatever I like,” he clarified. “I’m yours for the night.”

There was something so alluring about hearing the faerie king say that. Something almost sacrilegious.

“I want you inside of me. Please?” you couldn’t believe the words had actually left your mouth until they were already out and you couldn’t possibly take them back.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that. Us faeries tend to interpret things the wrong way sometimes. If you say it like that, what’s to stop me from turning into dust and entering your mind? Or your heart?”

“You know what I meant,” you complained shyly.

“Say it, nonetheless.”

“I want your manhood inside of me. Fuck,” what had gotten into you? It was like the faerie king freed a part of you so wicked you hadn’t even known it existed.

“All you had to is ask, sweetheart,” Felix said and entered you in no time. You were wet enough from his previous ministrations to take him fully. And as he moved rapidly inside of you, you could swear that despite losing your sight for the night, you were seeing golden stars and visions of glory in your head. It didn’t take long for you to clench around him, desperately repeating his name like he’d asked you to. As he kissed you again fiercely, biting your lips, you felt the faint taste of blood in your mouth, but you no longer seemed to care.

“H-harder,” you begged and Felix seemed to be in a wonderful mood, judging from how eager he was to do as you pleased. In these moments, it was almost easy to forget why you were here in the first place. Easy to forget that despite making you feel in control, you were so quickly overpowered by the immortal faerie king.

Once he emptied himself inside you, you felt him softening and yet, you couldn’t understand why you said your next words:

“Stay a little longer like this.”

“As you wish,” Felix stroked your cheek gently, tracing kisses down your neck. Soon enough, you realized he was hard again.

“Stop torturing me, Felix,” you groaned, feeling a bit weary.

“But darling...I haven’t even started yet.”

In the morning, you were somehow back in your room, your sight miraculously returned. You didn’t question it and hurriedly rubbed your silver ring to summon Hyunjin. If you didn’t talk to him rightaway, you would lose your mind. What had happened last night was obviously a mistake. You shouldn’t have allowed Felix to touch you like that. Not that you had much choice in the matter. No, the problem was not that he had defiled you. The problem was you had enjoyed every second of it. You had wanted him to do those wicked things to you. And the more time you spent in the faerie land, the harder you were afraid of losing your very sense of self.

“Hyunjin!” you cried out pitifully when you saw your friend, your guardian angel. “It’s so good to see you.”

Burying your face into his chest, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his white shirt.

“What happened, dearest?”

“I d-don’t know. I think I completed my first task successfully,” you sobbed even harder.

“Then, why are you upset? That’s a good thing, no? You’re one step closer to freeing your brother.”

“No, I’m not,” you argued. “The faerie king’s just playing with me. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Hyunjin smirked as if you had said something funny.

“I’m here for you, alright,” he reassured you, running slow circles down your back. “In every way you need me to be.”

“Hyunjin,” you sighed. “He did something to me. And I couldn’t stop it.”

“I know, sweetcheeks, I know. I can smell his faerie scent all over you. It’s driving me insane.”

“Does it bother you?” you asked sheepishly.

“Why would it?” he scoffed. “He may have been your first but I’ll be your last.”

No sooner had he said that than Hyunjin’s hot lips were on yours, conquering your tongue with his own. The hands on your back were digging harder into it and you couldn’t physically stop yourself from moaning into his soft mouth. This was Hyunjin. Your best friend and your guardian angel in this strange place full of treacherous faeries. Hyunjin was probably the only one you trusted completely.

“I need you, Jinnie,” you whined. “So much.”

“I’m right here,” he comforted you.

Being with Hyunjin was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. There had been something that attracted you to the danger that came with the faerie king. But with Hyunjin you felt safe. Cared for. You instinctively knew Hyunjin would never let you down. Never trick you or lie to you. He’d been looking over you all his life. Protecting you was his mission. And making him feel needed was your own.

“I wish you had been my first,” you whispered in Hyunjin’s ear as he came inside of you.

“I told you already,” he smiled. “I don’t care about firsts. You’re gonna leave this place with me. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m yours, Jinnie,” you said in the heat of the moment. “Do with me what you will.”

Hyunjin grinned like the devil incarnate and for the briefest of seconds you wondered if all angels’ smiles were filled with so much fire.

“What am I going to do for the second task?” you wondered out loud, Hyunjin’s dark wings tucked warmly behind your back. “What’s the use of trying to save my little brother if the faerie king takes away every inch of my sanity?”

“I won’t let that happen,” he promised. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you know how to call me.”

“But...you said you can’t risk him seeing you here?” you were growing a bit suspicious.

“Forget what I said. I’ll confront him if it comes to it.”

You nodded, feeling more than touched by Hyunjin’s willingness to protect you.

“I’ll try to figure something out and only expose your existence to him as a last resort,” you reaffirmed your convictions of being powerful enough to beat the faerie king at his own game.

The next week was relatively uneventful. Like the first one, you spent it around Jisung, enjoying his music and the magical nature in the faerie kingdom. Temporarily forgetting your troubles. Temporarily forgetting why you had come here. Until the inevitable evening you dreaded came. And the faerie guards informed you that the king required your presence. You followed them patiently to the grand hall where hundreds of faeries were indulging in...sensual dancing, drinking and behaving in all sorts of socially (to mortal standards) unacceptable ways. You felt terribly overdressed for the occasion, considering most of the faeries were...well, not really wearing anything. To your relief, at least the faerie king was decent. His golden hair was fixed into delicate braids and he was wearing a black suit covered with yellow stars and sparkly gems. You hated to admit to yourself (never to him) that he looked like a vision taken from the most vivid fairy tale. While the first task was completed in the safety of his chambers, away from prying eyes, you had the gnawing sensation the second task would involve something more...public.

“Oh, you’re here,” Felix gestured with two fingers for you to approach. “Ready for your second task?”

“Do I have a choice?” you groaned.

“Of course you do. You can choose to ignore it and stay in my realm until your dying days.”

“Not gonna happen. Tell me what’s it gonna take.”

“You’ve already guessed I’m quite fond of taking,” Felix smiled mysteriously. “If you survive until sunrise without relying on your mind, I shall view it as an accomplishment on your behalf.”

“My m-mind?” you choked on the word. “Are you going to eat my brain or something?”

“Please,” he giggled. “I’m neither a barbarian nor a zombie. You’ll know what I mean when you feel it. Or you won’t. Fun, isn’t it?”

“God, I hate faeries,” you hissed. “Well, let’s get it over with.”

“It’s not as easy as snapping my fingers,” Felix grinned and pointed with his chin towards a plate. On top of it were different fruits and a glass full of something you had heard horror stories about. Faerie wine. Known to have an extremely dangerous and intoxicating effect on mortals such as yourself, to actual faeries it was like ordinary alcohol was to you. You suddenly remembered the tale about the poor human maidens who’d been driven off cliffs under the influence. If you drank from it, you would be unrecognizable. Not only to your parents or your brother. But to yourself. If the first task a week ago had been difficult to survive because of how much losing your sight had made you reliant on Felix, tonight would be hell. You shuddered at the thought.

“Anything else,” you begged in terror. “Don’t m-make me.”

“I’m not making you do anything,” the faerie king reminded you. “You signed up for this, remember?”

You took a deep breath, reminded that you had to do this for your brother’s freedom and before you could talk yourself out of it, you gulped the drink in one shot.

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Felix grabbed the empty glass but it was too late. “This could kill you.”

You barely registered his words, the effects of the faerie wine already clouding your mind. Sober you would never have done such a thing. Drunk on faerie wine you didn’t seem to care as you began undressing yourself. In front of hundreds of faeries. Climbing into Felix’s lap, you were grinding onto him. You could feel the vicious stares on your back, but it was like it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. Nothing except him. And feeling him grow in size between your thighs...

“L-lix,” you hiccuped into his neck. “Want you.”

“Patience, kitten,” he removed you from his lap with one swift movement. “Dance for me.”

Sober you would have felt self-conscious about dancing fully naked before all these faeries. Drunk on faerie wine you just did as the faerie king commanded you to do. Dancing till your legs hurt, drinking more and more and more, you had truly lost your grip on reality. When Felix finally told you to stop, you collapsed right into his arms, barely standing on your feet. Only then did you realize the faeries had left a long time ago the grand hall was empty but for the two of you.

“It’s so entertaining to watch you like this,” Felix mused. “So dumb and helpless. I could do anything to you, you know that, yes?”

“You could,” you replied wistfully, only proving him right.

“But I won’t,” he rejected you to your disappointment. You were sobbing and feeling absolutely powerless. “Tonight was fun but...I want you sober when you beg me to let you stay.”

Disappearing from your sight, Felix left you completely alone. Naked and vulnerable in the grand hall. You curled into a ball to protect yourself from the cold. You had no idea where your poor dress was. As sunrise approached, you were beginning to feel the effects of the faerie wine wear off, you did the one thing you could possibly think of. Rubbing the silver ring on your hand, you summoned Hyunjin.

Noticing the miserable state you were in, your guardian angel immediately covered you with his white shirt and wrapped his black wings around you, as if to shield you from the horrors of the faerie world.

“What did he do to you?” Hyunjin asked angrily and then kissed your cheeks. Softly.

“It’s my fault,” you confessed. “I got myself into this mess.”

“No, dearest. None of this is your fault. It’s mine for letting it go so far.”

“What do you mean? You couldn’t have known...”

Hyunjin avoided your eyes at all costs. Maybe it was the aftertaste of the faerie wine that caused you not to notice. Or maybe it was your foolishness.

“I can take you out of here.”

“But my brother?” you blinked hopefully.

“Only you,” Hyunjin said sadly.

“Then, I can’t leave yet. We either go with him or not at all.”

He nodded seriously.

“No matter what happens, you have to promise me you won’t trust faeries. They’re treacherous creatures that will do you no good. Especially the faerie king. If it comes to it, just...follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”

“I know not to trust them, Jinnie, my parents have warned me thousands of times.”

“I’m very sorry I couldn’t do much to help you.”

“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed. “If you weren’t there for me, I wouldn’t have made it so far. Your presence is help enough. You’re my guardian angel, after all.”

“No, sweetcheeks, I-” whatever Hyunjin was about to tell you was interrupted by the sound of lower faeries beginning to enter the grand hall to clean up the mess after last night’s...events. Before you could ask Hyunjin what he meant, he’d vanished. And you were being pulled by a bunch of faeries, determined to give you a thorough bath and dress you in the finest garments. You couldn’t do much to argue as you were overwhelmed by their unwanted attention.

Once you put up with the faeries’ taking care of your skin, braiding your hair and wrapping you in the most exquisite fabrics, you were informed that the faerie king desired to have breakfast with you in his chambers. You wondered if he had already made up his mind on what the third task would be. A treacherous part of you selfishly didn’t want it all to end so soon.

“You’re...absolutely divine,” Felix complimented you. “Turn around.”

You did as he asked, not bothering to deny him. In a way, you liked the power he held over you. What was wrong with you?

When Felix kissed you, you found yourself enjoying kissing him back. Despite having regained your sight and mind, you were still standing there, utterly consumed by thoughts of him. It was pure insanity.

“I can smell him on you, you know?” the faerie king hissed, the sound so guttural and animalistic you shivered unconsciously.

“W-what?” you stammered. Was it possible that he knew about Hyunjin’s existence?

“Did your so-called guardian angel tell you not to trust me?” Felix scoffed. “I bet he forgot to mention one important fact. Like, I don’t know, being a demon, for example.”

“What are you talking about?” you whispered in confusion. “How can I know you’re not trying to trick me?”

“You can’t,” Felix shrugged casually. “But you also can’t tell if Hyunjin’s been entirely honest, can you?”

Hearing the faerie king mention Hyunjin’s name further convinced of what you had been suspecting for a while now. You couldn’t trust anyone. Not even yourself.

“Neither of you are entirely honest, I can feel as much,” you admitted.

“I may have used a couple of tricks to keep you around for a bit longer, but I never lied to you about who I am,” Felix explained, carefully stroking your cheek. “You knew what I was from the start. Can he say the same?”

“Why did you call for me, Felix?” you were beginning to grow tired. “Where is my third task?”

“You’ll have to wait a bit more, darling. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded absent-mindedly.

“Can I please go now?”

“By all means,” Felix gestured towards the door. “Run back to him and ask him. You know I’m right.”

You hated the fact that maybe he really was.

Once you were alone in your room, you quickly summoned Hyunjin with the ring he’d given you, intending to confront him rightaway. When he showed up, it was like he already knew what you were going to say.

“Y/N, I can explain...” he started.

“Hyunjin, just tell me the truth! Are you really a demon?”

“Did Felix tell you?” he sighed with exhaustion. The mere fact that he knew the faerie king’s name (albeit, not his real one) made you believe that there was still so much more you weren’t aware. So many secrets. And once again, nobody you could trust to the fullest.

“Does it matter? Just be honest with me for once,” you begged.

“And if I am a demon? It doesn’t change how I feel about you...”

You flinched as if struck by lightning. Even if he did have feelings for you, you couldn’t afford to lose. Your brother’s life was at stake and the way you felt couldn’t get involved.

“It changes everything,” you cried out. “Because I made a deal with you. You help me get my brother out and I give you a...a “small” favour, was it? What? You want my soul, right?”

“I don’t care...” Hyunjin spoke passionately. “I mean, I do. I mean...I just want you to be safe. Forget the stupid deal and tell me what you want. I could take you AND your brother away from the faerie kingdom the second you ask me for it. Or would you rather play house with that...faerie?” he spat out the last word as if it was something dirty. Not worthy of his attention.

“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore, Hyunjin,” you admitted. “I feel like I’m beginning to lose myself. You can’t ask me to put Jisung’s life on the line when I have no idea who I am and what the right thing to do is.”

“Then I guess my services are no longer needed. Goodbye,” Hyunjin was about to walk away when you grabbed his arm in desperation.

“No, wait,” you yelped. “Just because I’m having doubts does not mean I want you gone. Please, Hyunjin. I...I’m sorry I overreacted. Even if you are a demon...”

“Which I am,” Hyunjin confirmed, his voice a bit wavery.

“Which you are,” you chuckled. “In my heart, you’ll always be my guardian angel.”

He rolled his eyes but his dark gaze couldn’t help but soften upon hearing your words.

“That was so lame but I get what you’re saying.”

“Yeah? You’re not giving up on me?”

“Not a chance,” Hyunjin promised and kissed you roughly, pulling your hair and slightly twisting your head back so that he could have access to your neck. Sucking harshly on your vulnerable skin, thus, marking you, you were certain it’d leave hickies. Your head was filled with thoughts of how Felix would react upon seeing them. Despite faeries being known for taking multiple lovers at once, there had always been a glint of possessiveness in the faerie king’s eyes that both scared and excited you. What on earth was wrong with you? You were supposed to be here on a mission to save your brother and yet you had somehow ended up with not one but two supernatural creatures pining over you. Who were terrifying both because of their powers and because of how unfairly handsome they were.

“Hyunjin,” you said a while after he was done biting and devouring you, as you were lying in his arms. His dark wings wrapped way too tightly around your back. You should have known better. Real angels probably had white wings. Of course he was a fallen one. “I never told you Felix’s name. How did you know his name?” it kept bothering you.

Hyunjin paled and before he could muster up the courage to answer, the doors to your room flung wide open. As if your words had miraculously been overheard, Felix entered the room. Catching you in Hyunjin’s arms. You didn’t bother explaining yourself. You owed him nothing. You just stared at him right back. To your further amazement, Felix didn’t seem surprised. On the contrary, his face was the epitome of perfect composure. As if he’d expected this. No, not expected. As if he’d orchestrated this.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favourites. Jinnie, you should have called me. The three of us together would have had way more fun.”

“Wait...you t-two know each other?” you stuttered, the shock too great to handle.

“Lixie, don’t-” Hyunjin started. As if he could stop this. As if he could make it better. You had to know what was going on.

“Of course, we know each other. Did you honestly think witches were worthy of guardian angels?” Felix laughed, mocking your gullible nature. “Oh, this is rich.”

“Will anyone please tell me what’s so funny?” you snapped, waiting for the punchline. Well, the joke was on you.

“It’s simple, kitten. It was just a game. You can’t blame a faerie or a demon,” Felix gestured towards Hyunjin. “for growing bored every once in a couple of centuries. You were the first witch foolish enough to set foot in my kingdom. The temptation to corrupt you was too strong to resist. So, boyfriend dearest here,” he pointed at Hyunjin’s direction once again, dealing the killing blow, “and myself placed a bet. Whoever wins your heart receives the other’s kingdom. Exciting, isn’t it? What we didn’t expect, however, was for you to fall for both of us. I get it. We’re ridiculously attractive. But still, you were supposed to pick one of us. It’s not much of a game if we don’t have a clear winner, now, is it?”

“And the third task?” you asked pitifully through your tears. “To get my brother out?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Losing your heart,” Felix smirked.

“Hyunjin, please,” you whimpered, desperate to hear it was just a joke. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t.”

You pushed him away and jumped out of the bed.

Suddenly, you remembered the old saying...How was it?

Fool me once. Shame on you. Hyunjin lying to you about being your guardian angel when in reality, he was a demon.

Fool me twice. Shame on me. Both Hyunjin and Felix lying to you about their true intentions. Both of them tricking you into thinking they actually liked you when in reality, it was just a game to them.

You couldn’t let there be a third time.

“You think this is funny?” you snapped at them. “Playing with the stupid little witch? Making a fool of her? Well, guess what? None of you have ever dealt with the ghost of an angry witch,” you threatened them. “When neither a demon nor a faerie are able to defeat her, let’s see who’ll have the last laugh.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjin asked, panic evident in his eyes. Even Felix seemed disturbed by your threats. Back then, you thought they were scared of you. Good, you thought. They should be.

When actually, they were scared for you. Scared of losing you.

“Let Jisung go right now or I’ll do something you’ll both regret,” you hissed angrily.

“Already done,” Felix promised and snapped with his fingers. “There, he’s back on Earth,” he said, showing you an image in a crystal ball. You were fairly certain he wasn’t lying. If he was...you’d haunt him till the end of time. “Are you happy now?”

“You wanted my heart?” you sneered. “Well, have at it.”

And with that, you plunged your magical hand into your chest, taking your own heart out. Holding it up for them to see with the last of your strength. Who’s the fool now?

Losing your sight, then your mind had made you think you were slowly losing yourself. So when you found out it was just a silly bet between Felix and Hyunjin, you had decided you couldn’t let either of them win. If you were meant to lose your heart, you wanted it on your own terms. And if there was something faeries and demons had in common it was this: they both hated losing.

So, it didn’t come as a surprise to you when you felt yourself regaining consciousness. They had saved you. You didn’t know how. What mattered was that they had.

“Please, stay with me, darling,” you could faintly hear Felix’s tearsome voice. “Stay with us.”

“It was never about the bet, sweetcheeks,” Hyunjin cried out. “We need you alive. Please, don’t leave us.”

“As long as you let me stay,” you teased, opening your eyes.

“I told you you’d beg me to stay,” Felix joked inappropriately.

“Yet you’re the one begging,” you said with a smirk.

“How could you have done something so reckless?” Hyunjin scolded you, pulling you into a tight hug. “If we hadn’t used magic to give you a half of our own hearts, you’d be dead.”

“You split your hearts in two? For me?” you inquired in amazement. You knew they would most likely save you but you thought they would pull out some resurrection spell. You certainly didn’t expect them to go as far as that.

Hyunjin and Felix exchanged a puppy-eyed look and nodded simultaneously.

“You really scared us, kitten,” Felix sighed, stroking your hair. “Why did you do it?”

“For my brother’s freedom, it was a risk I was willing to take,” you admitted.

“You really love him more than either of us, huh?” Hyunjin nudged your shoulder playfully.

Men...Always thinking they’re the center of the universe.

“Love?” you cackled devilishly. “You think I love you two?”

Felix and Hyunjin blinked at you, utterly flabbergasted by the sudden coldness of your voice.

“You thought you could play me for a fool and I’d grow to love you?” you clicked your tongue. “I knew you’d save me one way or another. Now that I know how...I guess being part-faerie and part-demon has some advantages. I’m going back to earth, dearies. To my brother. And there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”

“You really played us?” both Hyunjin and Felix were in absolute disbelief.

“Did no one warn you never to trust a witch? Least of all, an angry one,” you grinned. “Any last words?”

“Now that you’re half-faerie and half-demon, you’re bound both to the faerie world and the underworld,” Felix explained cautiously. “Guess you didn’t really think this through.”

“Are you saying I can’t go back home?” you asked, face growing pale in horror.

“You can, but only temporarily,” Hyunjin replied. “You will need to return eventually and draw energy from our lands.”

“There’s really no tricking you people, is there?” you sighed.

“You may go now,” Felix shrugged. As if it wasn’t a big deal to him. You knew it was. “But you’ll return to both of us. Whether you like it or not.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t stay away from either of you,” you relented, tracing fingers down their cheeks. Giving them each a passionate kiss. One they wouldn’t be able to forget. One that would haunt their minds at night. And then, you withdrew from them. “Or maybe I can. I guess only time will tell.”

And with that, you disappeared from their sight. Taking their hearts with you.

#stray kids #felix #hyunjin #stray kids smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids angst #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunlix #skz fic #lee felix #hwang hyunjin #writing

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not-the-tie-youre-looking-for · 3 years

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Something that's been bugging me for years since the Legends finale. If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do you think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out? On the one hand, from Legends Thrawn's portrayal I imagine he would without a second of hesitation. On the other, Canon Thrawn has been much more... restrained? And on a third point, there's the fact that Legends and Canon Thrawn seem like they really could be the same person just at different points of time. cnt in next

...I'm just curious if anyone else was curious if Zhan agreed with that direction taken. Which, on that note, did Zhan ever say anything about his thoughts on how Rebels handled Thrawn? Both from a writing standpoint as well as an acting and musical one (Thrawn's various leitmotifs)?

Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh maaaaan. My friend, you have asked exactly the right person this question, because not only have I wanted to talk about this multiple times before, but I also have ~receipts~. 👀

⚠️Spoiler warnings for Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, the canon Star Wars novels Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Thrawn: Treason, Thrawn Ascendency: Chaos Rising, and Thrawn Ascendency: Greater Good, and the legends Star Wars novels Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, and Outbound Flight.⚠️

Oh man. Where to begin.

Lets start with who Thrawn is, because depending on who you ask, you're gonna get different answers—whether you're strictly a Legends fan, Dave Filoni, a guy who's only seen Thrawn in Star Wars: Rebels, Timothy Zahn, or just a writer/artist fan like me.

To Timothy Zahn, the man behind our favorite chiss, Thrawn is a character that is constant in both attitude and personality throughout all of his content. In multiple interviews, ranging from Thrawn's debut in Rebels to the latest about the writing of the Ascendancy Trilogy, Zahn states that Thrawn in canon and Thrawn in Legends are indistinguishable.

And so I present the receipts:

In a 2017 interview with The Verge on writing the first canon Thrawn book Thrawn, Zahn is asked the following question and responds as such:

How do you navigate bringing back a character who already has an extensive backstory and audience expectations, with telling a new story that fits in the new continuity?

Actually, I didn’t find that to be a problem. I’d never written Thrawn in this part of the Star Wars timeline, so it was simply a matter of bringing him into the Empire and chronicling his rise through the ranks. It’s still the same character as in the 1990s books, just a decade or two younger and in a very different military and political environment.

In another interview with The Verge in 2018 (a few months after the finale of Rebels aired) about writing Thrawn: Alliances, he repeats this sentiment twice:

Thrawn feels like if it had been written before the canonization purge a couple of years ago, or if you squinted a bit, it would serve as a perfect setup for Heir to the Empire.

Oh, I don’t think you need to squint at all. I wrote him in these two books to fit in with everything else I’d done. So if someone at Lucasfilm snapped their fingers, and suddenly all of my other books were canon, and there would be no real retrofitting that would have to go in. It would all fit together.

Thrawn: Alliances feels more at home in the new canon, especially because Thrawn has been fleshed out a bit more in Rebels. Was there any adjustments for that?

Not really. I’m getting to play with more canon characters like Vader and Padmé and Anakin, but the character himself, I still see him as the same person. He’s got goals, and he won’t necessarily share them with you, but he as long as you’re going the same direction, he’s happy to cooperate and assist along the way.

...and this is referenced again in a 2020 interview with Polygon about writing Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising:

Along with Thrawn’s appearance in Rebels, Zahn would pen a new novel, Thrawn, that chronicled the character’s early days as an Imperial officer. Zahn didn’t have to change anything with the character, telling me in 2017 that “he’s like an old friend who I understand completely.” While Heir to the Empire was no longer canon, a reader could easily read Thrawn as a precursor to that classic novel. Thrawn went on to become a major presence in Rebels, and Zahn continued to explore his origins in Thrawn: Alliances and Thrawn: Treason.

The next day, an interview with IGN was published on the same subject:

Thrawn is an especially unique case because Zahn has been able to effectively continue the work he started way back in 1991 with Heir to the Empire. That novel may not be a part of official Star Wars lore any longer, but as Zahn explained, Thrawn himself is basically the same character regardless of continuity.

[....] The closest comparison between Chaos Rising and Zahn's earlier EU work is probably 2006's Outbound Flight, which is set during the Clone Wars and details the first encounter between Thrawn and the Galactic Republic (while also retroactively laying the groundwork for elements of Heir to the Empire). That novel is no longer canon, but Zahn told us he prefers to operate as if it were. He's making a concerted effort not to retread the same ground as Outbound Flight and to avoid contradicting the events of that novel as much as possible.

So yeah. In Zahn's opinion, Legends Thrawn is Canon Thrawn is Book Thrawn, and there is no difference whatsoever between Thrawns in, say, Outbound Flight, Heir to The Empire, Alliances, and Chaos Rising. I wholeheartedly disagree, but lets move on.

Now that the books are out of the way, its time for Rebels.

In July of 2016, after the trailer announcing Thrawn's canon debut aired, Dave Filoni had the following to say about Thrawn's character in regards to Timothy Zahn:

“I was pretty adamant with a couple of people saying, ‘Listen, we need to have Tim sign off on this. This is kind of a waste of time [otherwise],'” says Filoni. “We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns, but without Tim’s okay, what does it mean? That’s not going to be good. Once we had some stuff, we wanted to do what we thought was right and make the character. Then we brought him in. We had the production fully prepared. I said, ‘Look, if there’s something that Tim says that I think is really valuable, even if it changes something dynamically, we need to be ready for that and see what we can do.’ I wanted to make sure we did this right by everybody. We brought him in and we didn’t really tell him why. We just flew him up to Lucasfilm and sat him down in a theater and said, ‘Hey, we’re bringing Thrawn into the show.’ He was like, ‘Wow.’ and I said, ‘Yeah, wow. And I’m going to show him to you right now and you let me know what you think.'”

(Before we continue, keep that first highlighted sentence in mind for future reference. I'm going to come back to that later.)

Fortunately, Timothy Zahn was delighted at the show’s approach to the Empire’s imposing blue-skinned Chiss.

“We showed him some of the scenes with him,” Dave Filoni recalls. “He looked like a kid in a candy store. I think it meant a lot to him not just because it was his character, but because you have to imagine what he went through when it was announced that everything is Legends now, not Expanded Universe. I get that and I’ve always appreciated the work that goes into the Expanded Universe… For Tim, I think it was us saying, ‘No, no, no. We really like your character. We want him to be part of the real thing. The canon universe.'”

So in 2016, before we even saw Thrawn in action beyond a trailer, we were told that Zahn gave the OK, and he was chill with the way Thrawn was created in the show. In 2017, he gave a little more of the background of this process in an interview with FANgirl Blog:

The events of Thrawn dovetail closely with Rebels and shed light on some of Thrawn’s more seemingly surprising actions on the show, like when he appears to lose his temper and yell at Lieutenant Lyste. What was it like to see Thrawn come alive onscreen? Is he how you’ve pictured him in your head?

I don’t see my characters in terms of voice or appearance, but rather as personality or attitude. That said, I very much enjoyed the way the Rebels team brought him to life, in his appearance, voice, and actions.

I also appreciated the freedom I had to tweak certain incidents, such as the one you mentioned, and give additional or alternate explanations for the viewers who may have thought those were somewhat out of character for him.

He doesn't really elaborate on this, but we can assume he had SOME creative input on Thrawn's character, and he was overall pretty happy with the choices made in the show.

But then, we have this from that earlier 2017 the Verge article:

When did you learn that Dave Filoni was intending to bring Thrawn to Rebels, and did you have any input into how the character would be handled?

[...] I didn’t have any real input into how Thrawn was going to be handled, mainly because the lead time of an animated series is so long that much of season 3 had already been finished. But I trusted Dave and the team to do the character right. After all, why bring him into Rebels if you were going to drastically change him? Having seen the entire season now, I think we can agree that my trust was completely justified.

So... he didn't have "any real input," but was satisfied with it in the end? I guess? I don't know. We're getting into some contradictions now.

The last thing I've got in regards to Rebels is an interview Zahn did with the YouTube channel Star Wars Explained after the finale aired, where he responds to the following:

“So, maybe let's jump over to Rebels for a little bit. Now that it has wrapped up, how do you feel Thrawn was represented in Star Wars: Rebels?”

“They did a really good job—they not only understood the character and how to write for him, but they also understood the meta around how you defeat him. The only way to defeat Thrawn is to throw something at him he can't control, or can't anticipate. Given perfect knowledge and control, Thrawn will always find a way to win. But they understood, this is how you defeat him, these are the things we can use against him... so his portrayal in general, is very good; he's smart, he's anticipating, he's a step ahead of everybody, he's looking at clues and picking up on them, so I was very pleased with how the Rebels team handled the character."

I think these quotes answer many of your questions, so to answer your initial question: If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do I think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out?

Yes—but ONLY because at that point, the only established™️ Thrawn content was found in Legends, where Thrawn was a ruthless and calculating warlord.

However!

I do believe that if given the chance to re-write the Star Wars: Rebels finale using his now-canon novels as a solid background TODAY, Zahn would choose to not let Thrawn bombard Lothal's Capital City.

I believe this because he made one single very interesting creative choice when writing Thrawn that completely overwrote Thrawn's pre-established Rebels character: Thrawn was not responsible for the civilian deaths on Batonn—Pryce was.

And that's that on that.

A few months ago I would have ended it there, but today, Thrawn's story is no longer just contained in the novels and Rebels, but also in that of The Mandalorian.

This is where I will proudly say I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Before The Jedi aired, I was 100% sure that the next time we saw Thrawn, it would be nowhere NEAR the Empire, because Zahn was pretty adamant in the novels that Thrawn was only in the Empire to help. His. People.

So now he's apparently doing fuck-knows-what in fuck-knows-where and is STILL associated with the Seventh Fleet and Imperial Warlords???

Huh??? Despite the fact that he held no true loyalty to the Empire or to the Emperor??? It's been months and I'm still confused as fuck. Add to the fact that Zahn also doesn't know what the fuck is going on to the equation and we get a big fat question mark with one pretty clear answer that Filoni said himself that we have to keep in mind:

"We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns."

So I don't think Zahn has much control over Thrawn as we would all like to think. We can hope he gives us the crazy Thrawn and Ezra Space Adventure™️ novel all we want, but ultimately, Thrawn's fate does not rest in his hands.

If you guys have more to add please let me know!!! This is, obviously, a topic I am very passionate about, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#tye answers asks #not the post youre looking for #thrawn #timothy zahn #thrawn trilogy #legends thrawn #star wars #rebels #lothal #star wars rebels #dave filoni #thrawn ascendancy #chaos rising #greater good #thrawn alliances #thrawn treason #thrawn books #wow this took a while #but I like the way this is looking

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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years

Text

The Serpent Beneath

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Request: @daltonacademia Draco x Gryffindor reader and maybe like a faking dating type of situation? I am a sucker for the faking dating trope lmao. Maybe you could even spice it up by making it kind of an inside out version of enemies to lovers when they act lovey-dovey in public but in secret despise each other until they slowly get feelings??

A/n: Okay so this is part one because I’m evil, but part two will be up soon enough. Let me know what you think and I love you guys so much!

“Look, I’d love to go with you but...” I scrambled for an excuse. “But I’m dating someone already,” Yeah, that worked.

Harry wasn’t convinced. “Really?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Yes!” I said a bit too enthusiastically.

“Who?” He demanded.

“Uh,” then I saw him from across the room, coming in right in front of Snape, to his seat beside me. “Malfoy,”

“Malfoy!?” Harry’s eyes bulged. “Are you bloody joking!?”

“Oi, this isn’t your seat Potter,” Draco sulked, pushing past him. “Make a fool of yourself in front of Y/l/n on your own time,”

I gave a tense smile as Snape called the class to order. Slumping in my seat, I glanced nervously over at Draco. What in the world had I just done?

“What’s got Potter so off? You refuse to kiss his feet this morning?” Draco muttered toward the end of class that was filled with glares and offhand comments from Potter all the while.

“I might have told him we’re... dating,”

Draco stiffened beside me, sitting up ramrod straight. His hands clenched into fists as he sat there glaring at the front of the room. All things considered it could have been a worse reaction. He could be yelling or hexing me. Still his stoicism worried me.

As soon as class was dismissed, Draco remained seated, still rigid. His hand came to my wrist with a vice grip and I had no choice but to stay put. I tried to not let my nervousness leak into my facial features. Especially as Harry glanced back at us still sulking. I managed a smile.

When the room was clear, he let go of me and stood, shoving excess parchments and quills off the table.

“Are you absolutely daft!?” He shouted. I shrank back in my chair.

“I panicked okay!?” I bit back. “He asked me to the Yule Ball and chosen one or not I cannot stand him,”

Draco anger flitted to confusion before resting on something neutral.

“Ickle Gryffindor can’t stand Saint Potter?” A devious smirk was playing at his lips. “I thought it came with the territory,”

“Oh, you’re not a picnic either Malfoy,” I snapped. “Bloody Slytherins,”

“And yet you chose me,” He was toying with me now, as a cat cornered a mouse. “Is this admiration I see?”

“It was mistake,” I huffed grabbing my bag and standing. “Do you get off on making me miserable?”

He caught my arm as I went to leave. I shook him off. There was something mischievous in his eyes as he smiled at me. It left an unsettling pit in my stomach.

“Do you not want me to walk me to your next class?” His feigned innocence was a serpent waiting beneath a flower.

“Shove off Malfoy, I already have enough of a mess to fix. I don’t need this from you,”

“Well, the way I see it,” He grabbed his bag walking along side me. “Is that if you can’t stand Potter and the only way you’d think to get out of dating him is to ‘date’ me... and I’d love to see Potter knocked down a few pegs...” His smile curled into something wicked.

I stopped in my tracks and gaped at him.

“I’m not some toy you can fight over! And I don’t like you!” I exclaimed.

“But do you hate me enough that you won’t consider a fake relationship with me over whatever train wreck it would be with Potter?” Draco really scared me sometimes.

I worried my lip with his question and started to walk to my next class. He kept pace with me as we walked. His silence baffled me, allowing me to think clearly for the moment.

“Okay,” I muttered, pausing in an empty hall. “Deal,”

“Deal?” He seemed skeptical.

“Don’t get me wrong, I loathe you entirely, but... if you can get me out of having to date Potter or constantly turn him down... then deal,”

“Glad to be in business, darling,” Draco drawled, and I had to do everything not to cringe at the pet name. “See you after class?” He leaned in as if to kiss my cheek.

“Buy me dinner first, Malfoy,” I hissed, flinching away. “But... see you after class,” I achieved a small genuine smile.

McGonagall looked down on me as I entered class late and took my seat beside Hermione.

“Is it true?” She whispered urgently. “Are you dating Malfoy?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off McGonagall as she lectured. It was uncharacteristic of Hermione that she spoke to me during class. She was normally keenly intent on learning the new material or getting ahead on things we haven’t covered yet. Now all she could do was gape at me before tearing her eyes away to McGonagall.

“How in the world can you date Malfoy?” She hissed as we left class, before freezing, seeing that Draco was waiting in the hall, leaned causally against the opposite wall. He pushed off of it and made his way over to me, offering his hand and glancing to my bag. I raised my eyebrow at him, and he offered a seemingly sincere smile. I passed my bag to him.

“I’ll see you later Hermione,” I smiled tensely.

She eyed us suspiciously but made her way down the hall in the direction of the library where she would spend her free time this afternoon, akin to every other afternoon.

“How was class?” Draco asked, leading me down the halls in a direction of no consequence to me.

“Fine,” I stammered out. “Just McGonagall. Hermione and I are already a few lessons ahead anyway.”

“You favor Transfiguration, then?” He mused, as if he were actually interested.

“Uh... I prefer Astrology, but that’s not really the use of magic is it? Just stories.” I shrugged and smiled. “What about you Malfoy? You’re a Potions protégé, is it your favorite?”

“Uh, yeah,” He didn’t seem too sure. I pointed it out. “Well, I never really thought about it. I have to be good at everything, so why favor one subject over another?”

I glanced up at him, confusion furrowing my brow slightly.

“What?” He demanded, snideness leaking into his tone. It brought me back to reality.

“How... Slytherin of you,” I noted with a teasing smirk. He rolled his eyes at this.

When we were out of earshot and eyesight of anyone and his demeanor changed fractionally, still giving way to a serpent under a flower. If I wasn’t careful, I would start to marvel at the miracle of the flower and overlook the threat that lurked beneath. His expression became somber and something more akin to what I was used to. A grimace. I missed the false smiles that lit up his eyes.

Flower. Serpent. Right.

“Do you really want to get dinner tonight?” His curt tone pushed me back a fraction.

“Oh... uh.” I wrapped my arms around myself in protection. “Sure?”

It was a weekday, meaning that we’d have to eat in the Great Hall and my stomach felt uneasy about sitting anywhere near other Slytherins. Fake dating Draco or not, they were malicious to any sort of outsider, especially a Gryffindor who was friends with Saint Potter.

“I’ll pick you up at seven outside your portrait.” He passed my bag back to me now that we were outside the aforementioned portrait.

“Okay,” I barely got out as he swept down the hall and down the stairs. I watched him go, leaning over the railing to see if there was some way to know the difference between the serpent and the flower, and which one was truly the act.

“Fraternizing with a Slytherin,” The Fat Lady scoffed. “You should be ashamed,” I bit my lip, giving the password and the portrait opened begrudgingly.

Should I be ashamed for the situation that I had found myself in? The easy answer was yes. I should. Not only was I fraternizing I was being courting by a Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was an egotistical arrogant bigot who I should avoid at all cost. Not be in a false relationship with. And for such selfish reasons too. I was using Draco, but on the same note, he was using me to get at Harry. We only cared for the other enough for what they could do in our favor.

It was a mess.

I ducked my head and flopped onto a sofa in the Common Room.

“Oi! What the bloody hell are you thinking!?” And there was the lecture I was expecting from Harry, and probably every other student on this campus, and myself. But this was Harry, an equally egotistical arrogant loudmouth, who I loved to hate just as much.

“I’m sorry,” I snapped sarcastically. “I didn’t know that you controlled who I dated or not.” My tone was acidic.

“But Malfoy!? Malfoy!?” Harry demanded. “It’s got to be a joke!” It was.

“Just because I rejected you doesn’t mean you’re allowed to call my relationship with someone else a joke!” I shouted drawing my wand. A small crowd had formed in the Common Room. I didn’t know who they would side with, but the odds weren’t in my favor, that much was sure.

part 2

masterlist

more like this:

gryffindor!reader series

ten things i hate about you

@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz@crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus@tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @naughtygranger @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @echpr@dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @rosie-starlit-sky @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural @ghostofdolans @mxl-foyrecs @ginger-haired-queen @bex4whovian @kellyrose193 @unlikelygalaxygiver @marvel-trash-was-taken @one-edgy-bitch@supersouthy @garbagejay@rejectedlonelyasianchild @lucymxwell @coldlilheart @elia-the-bibliophile @biggalaxydreamland @fuckbuckyyy @hopem1218 @youareinllve @tyrusparker @3rdofkingdomtrees @i-mmunity @zero-nightshade @graym01 @fandomtrash88 @snakey-drakey @ceeellewrites @thatguppienamedbae @pinkleopardss @angel-blogging @xhoney-bee-x @jovialthings @samanthahaigwood @minigigglybabi @clumsy-writing-rdb @lahoete @yourenotafailureoverall @m-winchester-67 @shiningstar-byulxx@clumsy-writing-rdb @dracosathenaeum @dracofeltonmalfoy @harryslouis @iilovemusic12us @itsbebeyyy @dumspirospero-1 @kaye-lantern @anerroroccurrrrred @franbow29 @big-galaxy-chaos @itsbebeyyy @gryffindors-weasley @ornella0910 @ultrabuzzlightyear @phantomface1983 @emmalee12 @kuyrukludenizkizi @aubreylovesthegames @deafeninglandpersonempath @ackermanbitch @oingo233 @drismultiverse-blog @majicbamana @harrypotter289 @marinettepotterandplagg @cupidpoison @brownwheatrice @introvertedrae @gryffindors-weasley @frecklesandfirecrackers @bitchinbadgers @mkstover @dracomalfoyreader @mortallythoughtfulgurl @sakumorubywy @smileycount @ceeellewrites @is-it-really-a-secret @blogforharrypotter @spencerreidisbootiful @lam-ila @justawilddreamerchild @heavenlyrainyparis @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @dracomalfoyreader @spellbinding10 @justawilddreamerchild @queen-of-the-coven @potterpasties @trudabest @theonlystoriesiliketoread @daltonacademia @jemmakates @dannighost @imagines-andshizz @unstableye @hahee154hq @malfoystylinson @idkmanicantenglish @subpar-life

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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book-o-scams · 3 years

Text

'Sorry Wrong Ed' Alternate Ending Storyboard Sequence

Check out Al Kang's Ed, Edd n Eddy portfolio!

Al Kang worked on the show during seasons 3-4 and had roles on the storyboard and prop teams apparently. (IMDb says he was credited as Al Choi at the time, but it also says he worked on season 1 episodes, which doesn't line up with the timeline he mentioned.. anyway.)

I discovered his portfolio a few months ago after seeing fandom discussion of the alternate 'Sorry Wrong Ed' ending. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few other treats as well! But yes, I even sorta liked what I learned about 'Sorry Wrong Ed' in the process... (I threw in a little analysis comparing the two endings at the bottom)

I noticed Al seemed to mix up the order on these, so I thought I'd try my best to figure out the right order. This was the most confusing one for me to try and figure out the order of since almost all 8 pages were out of order. I think I finally figured out what's going on in the original ending.

So this alternate ending starts at an unknown point with Eddy flat on the ground, presumably injured, picking himself back up. At this point in the final cut of the episode, Eddy has just been squashed by a tree, but this seems more like a different injury, and he's not even retaining his injuries from the truck scene... The scenes with Jonny and Plank from the final cut of the episode seem to not exist at all here, Jonny and Plank don't appear in this sequence.

Anyway, Eddy picks himself up in the middle of an on-going scene, sees Jimmy drop a coin in a jar for Ed, who has inexplicably turned the cursed phone into a scam on his own. Edd is glaring at the off-screen kids, who have somehow learned about this phone and are excited to kill Eddy with it.

Eddy: "Jimmy! No!"

Jimmy answers the phone: "Hello?"

Ed: "HA HA HA"

Edd: "You people don't seriously believe--"

Then we sync up with gags that did happen in the ending of Sorry Wrong Ed, with context that makes its tone a little more sadistic than random. Jimmy's paid phonecall drops the sandbox on Eddy.

This page has the most skeletal dialogue...

Kev: "Yes." (I think he's meant to be fist pumping because Eddy got hurt, more of a "Yes!")

Jimmy: "BAD LUCK EDDY PHONE." (this dialogue must have been a placeholder)

Edd: "HA HA" (sarcastic ha-ha or did Al mean to write "Ed" for this?)

Jimmy seems to offer the phone to Edd.

We sync up again with Edd's denial from the final cut of this episode, except now it actually makes sense that he's so one-track-minded, because there are people actively arguing with him and keeping him disengaged from the victim.

Edd: "There must be a cargo plane overfilled with playground supplies..."

Sarah interrupts him.

RING RING

Sarah: "Oh, that's for me."

Eddy at this point holds Ed responsible, as he should, and starts running to stop Ed or Sarah. Ed offers no explanation for his betrayal.

Eddy: "Ed! What are you doing!?"

Sarah: "Hello?"

Sarah's paid phonecall summons the hippos, the most random moment in the final cut of the episode. Note how both of these slapstick gags were storyboarded on the same generic background, seems like the lane or an empty lot, but clearly a different location than Eddy's front yard from the aired ending.

And that's all we have to go off of!

I'll put my updated opinions below the cut, but suffice it to say, I like the episode a little better now! Knowing what the ending was going to be and trying to figure out the choices that led to the ending we got, I feel more appreciative that it didn't end up a lost episode or something and less annoyed that it was 11 minutes of one joke.

I know I have a reputation for not finding slapstick funny and disliking this episode, but violence was never my only issue. Lots of episodes have lackluster slapstick that I just let wash over me. My point that never gets as much focus is that this episode never felt FINISHED to begin with. It's just a slapstick vacuum with no ending and no point, and it used to be frustrating to me not knowing for sure if my hunch was right or not that it felt like the episode just wasn't working and they had to cobble it together from the scenes that almost worked.

I am surprised to say I like the episode more now that I know that is pretty close to the truth. Judging from this peek into the episode's development, this episode seems to have reached Danny Antonucci's and/or Wootie's (the episode's lead board artist) limit for being mean-spirited with the characters without a reason. I'll still probably avoid rewatching it, but knowing the episode has no ending specifically because it's been trimmed to bare bones is somehow reassuring.

The most obvious flaw to this original ending is the lack of motivation for Ed's or the kids' actions. The kids presumably still weren't in the rest of the episode, so there's really no reason for them to be here other than reiterating the same idea from 'Your Ed Here' and 'The Good Ole Ed' that the neighborhood kids are always looking for a reason to gang up on Eddy, something that isn't really true of those characters in earlier seasons.

I think I can imagine how, on paper (in the writers' outline), this episode sounded funnier. Trying to imagine this ending as part of the whole episode, I think the script's idea of the final joke is that Ed is not satisfied with ending the tests at the point where they tried to return the phone to Rolf. I think Ed converts the curse-testing process to a scam at that point, building off of how Ed already wasn't processing Eddy's safety in anything so far, and is probably more focused on proving to Edd that curses are real (as Ed was previously in league with Evil Tim). The addition of Ed running his own tests and the kids arguing Eddy's point against Edd's while Eddy's busy, does sound more like a complete manic cartoon boiling point than the way the finished episode just petered out with Edd as the sole antagonist. But unfortunately, in visual execution, suddenly piling in so many aggressive characters and so much random violence at once, would only really result in it petering out at a higher volume.

Meanwhile Edd's characterization is made much more structurally sound in the original ending. He's annoyed FOR Eddy's sake, and the only reason he's not actively helping Eddy is because like 3 other characters were supposed to be arguing with him while this was happening. It seems extremely apparent to me that the cuts made to this ending were for the sake of mitigating Ed's reputation in the fandom, as well as the kids', and I think it's really unfortunate that Edd's characterization was the cost for salvaging everyone else's. I'm glad I already considered his behavior in 'Sorry Wrong Ed' non-canon, because now it feels like the reason the aired ending is so out-of-character is just because Edd is basically arguing with the ghost of the original scene. I formally forgive 'Sorry Wrong Ed'. Production turnarounds are tough and AKA did their best to not turn this into another forgotten 'Special Ed' episode that simply wasn't working.

I think ditching the original ending was ultimately the right call. It was not an exemplary episode, but I can admit it's less out of place to have a pure "vacuum of violence" story than it would've been to essentially give the kids a supernatural revenge plot like this. That would've been really weird to have to accept-- Eddy definitely wouldn't want to be friends with anyone at the end of the movie if THIS was their past. Changing it to an unaware Jonny and a questionably aware Plank being responsible, indeed, was a vibe that landed much more like standard EEnE fare. It was weird enough that the kids all saw Santa in JJJ, can you imagine if they all knew curses were real AND participated in attacking a neighbor with one??

If there was a silver lining for me the first time I saw this episode, it was that none of the kids were directly involved in Eddy's suffering. It made the questionable reality of the cursed device slightly more acceptable that only the Eds and Rolf know about the curse. If this ending had happened, I would've reacted the same, but I would've rejected its continuity even more than I do now, because it would just feel like they animated one of the DC Comics (where the kids can blow the Eds up with fireworks at the end or the Eds can randomly be crushed under an avalanche of anvils)-- the art could end up gorgeous but the characterizations don't exactly land as real human beings, the balance this show strives for typically.

And I think that's all I wanted to say! In the end, I found myself liking 'Sorry Wrong Ed' slightly more than I used to, all thanks to this glimpse into how the animation production system morphs the outcome of a cartoon. Thanks so much to Al Kang, for sharing your art and this insight into the industry! I don't know whether he did both the gesture drawings and the revised art, but judging from his other boards I think the cleaned up art is his, and I liked seeing the poses that almost were!

#ed edd n eddy #sorry wrong ed #al kang #storyboard #concept art #alternate ending #deleted ending #alternate sequence #analysis

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gigglingauspice · 2 years

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ooh tell me about your mechsonas please!! i'm also trying to get a feel for what mechs' backstories can be like, so i'm super interested :)

OKAY SO!

Starting with LL ( they/them ), or Lucky Lucien ( Their stage name, they simply do not answer to their legal name, Lucien O'Deorain, unless you are their bestie or the law. ) They play the saxophone, mostly the bari, and can sing pretty okay-ly. They are 6'6 without the boots.

Their mechanism is their jaw, and they were a busker. One who was running, hopping from planet to planet, to avoid being swept up in the devestation the Rose Reds brought with them. Eventually, they ended up in a scuffle for the last seat in a ship bound for the next star-system, and THAT- caused a broken jaw, and got them pushed into an escape pod.

An escape pod that ran right into the path of The Imperial Starship Adrastea. A starship containing Apollo Amazonios. Who promptly ripped off their broken jaw, replaced it, and upon realizing that they'd come to? Shot them, to see that he'd done his work properly. They then spent 48 hours relearning the saxophone/annoying their captain. They're besties now. boyfriends, even.

This got long for Morgie, so I'm putting more elaboration on that one, under the cut.

Morgie ( he/him, se/er/seer )! his actual name is Morgan, unfortunately calling him Morgie is very funny. Se's bigender ( male and Distinctly Not Male ), bisexual, and has forgotten what it's like to be hinged. Morgie's mechanism is.. Well! His eyes, spinal column, brain, and nervous system are organic. The *casing* for his spinal column is from the original mechanization. Every other body part of seers has been customized and replaced at some point or another, and his ability to feel pain has considerably deadened. Which leads to him having to replace bits more often, which further deadens his sense of pain-- I digress! Anyways, he made the choice to look like that.

His backstory is.. Interesting! He was born on a transhumanist planet, and se were born to be seer parents perfect little girl. .. Except he wasn't that, whatsoever. A sickly thing, se was prone to catching all manner of exotic diseases. Not being able to go out, nor do too much, se turned to creating art. At the age of ten, or eleven- something happened, and so began what was known on seer planet at the march of theseus. The march of theseus, it needs to be said, happens only under specific conditions. One, that the initial prosthetic damaged the rest of the body. Two, that the victim's family be able to finance the replacement. Three, that the patient not give up. Usually, it does not result in immortality, but.. Well.. Morgan's regular surgeon was out one day, and some doctor named Raphaella(?? Se can't remember their name.) was in his place, to take care of seer spine. Se never felt quite the same after that.

Post MOT, at the age of 17, se set out on the world, both because he had just swapped out his face, and because se wanted to set er art upon the world. Eventually, Anwir kinda just.. Took him, as xir Artist In Residence. It probably helps that se's more than capable of repairing and restoring mechanical parts, after how many times se has messed with er own body.

#long post #mechsona #the mechanisms #i'm sorry June but you DID ask #LL #Morgie

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years

Text

Accidents and artwork (Jongho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: So basically, I wrote this from an artists perspective. I wrote it with my experiences and processes I have seen so bare with me.

Also the smut in this story is definitely not the main focus at all, it’s a whole story

Tags: Fem reader x Jongho, Highschool au!, Wrestler x art student, Teenagers being awkward, cute letter confessions, scatterbrained artist, stress relieving, pretty soft sex, pretty vanilla, just wholesome teen romance? virgin reader x Jongho, fingering, praise

Word count: 9520 words (longest thing I’ve ever written)

Week 1

How Jongho ended up in the art room surrounded by paint covered canvases and confused students, he didn’t really know. He didn’t understand how such a big mistake could be made, wrestling and art class were very different things. However here he was at art class and not wrestling like he should have been.

“Take a seat, Mr. Choi. You’re late.” The teacher said, snapping him out of his thoughts as he scanned the room. “Ah, I’m sorry. There was a mix up and I was in the office. I will only be here temporarily until a spot on the wrestling team opens up.” Jongho explained, the other students in the room scanning him up and down.

Everyone had heard about the athlete prodigy that was transferring to your school, how a mix-up like this could happen was really baffling. But it happened and you were now sitting in the corner, watching him look at the empty seat next to you.

“Temporary or not, you’re going to need a seat.” Your teacher said sharply. Mrs. Kim always was sharp of the tongue. You watched him bow politely and make his way to the stool next to yours.

Jongho had only been at school a few days but had already gained immense popularity, being the new kid and the star athlete really helped. This popularity was intimidating to you, not ever really being one for wanting the spotlight per say. It took a certain type of person to enjoy the popularity, not that that was bad, no it was just different. You had respect for all types of people around your highschool, everyone was just trying to make their four years work... some more successfully than others.

“Now as I was explaining, this duo project will be worth 75% of your semester grade. There is no theme, I just want to see harmony between two artists in the piece.” Mrs. Kim explained. That was something you admired about her teaching method. There was never a box to be put in, she allowed artists to be artists and it was refreshing.

One by one you and Jongho watched your classmates find partners, silently. “Ma’am, I won’t be in this class long. I wouldn’t want to not be able to finish a project and leave a student hanging.” Jongho explained, voice incredibly sincere. He would hate to think that someone would fail because of him. “That will just have to be something you figure out with your partner. Is Y/N your partner?” Your name coming out of her mouth caught you off guard and you looked up.

Jongho looked at you and looked at him, before looking back to your teacher and back to eachother again. An awkward silence was definitely lingering in the air as he tried to find the words once he noticed you didn’t have a partner. “Only if she wants to be... I would hate to be a burden.” His voice was soft as he looked at you, anxiously awaiting your response.

“It seem Ms. Y/N doesn’t have a partner so she doesn’t quite have a choice. You two will work together, it’s settled.” There goes that sharp tongue again, you cursed mentally.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to work with Jongho, not at all. He seemed like a sweet guy but you already felt like you were at a disadvantage before hand. Your art seemed to be lacking as of late and you were questioning what direction you were going in, it was an internal struggle that left a negative mark on your art. Now you had the possibility of having to help someone alot and not to be rude, it was a disadvantage.

“Everyone start planning your projects, quietly though. No need to give me a headache before noon.” Jongho pulled his stool closer to you and smiled slightly. He knew you probably didn’t want him as a partner and he could understand why, Jongho knew he had 0 drawing/painting experience.

“I’m sorry.” Jongho said, making you look up at him. There was an apologetic look on his face and you could tell he felt bad. But he had no reason too, this wasn’t his fault. You could work through it, like you mentioned before: everyone was just trying to make their four years work.

“It’s really okay. Let’s just work together and make something cool. We’ll manage.” You comforted him in the best way you could, because you were nervous yourself. If he was already apologizing before even really doing anything, how was this project going to turn out?

“Uhm, do you have any art experience or anything similar?” You asked, hoping that he might have a grain of visual artistic talent. “I’m sorry, no. I know that isn’t what you want to hear.” He looked down, cursing the fact that he never felt the urge to draw when he was a kid. “It’ll be okay, I’ll figure something out.” You replied, more reassuring yourself than him. “Thanks.” He said softly, feeling comforted by your words. “I was reassuring myself.” You justified with a laugh and he chuckled with you. “Fair enough.”

Jongho walked through the cafeteria with his bag, finding his friends pretty easily. They were a rowdy bunch after all.

“There he is. How was art class?” San asked and clapped the younger boy on the back as he sat down. “I still can’t believe that they messed up your schedule like that.” Seonghwa said and Jongho shrugged. “It could be worse. At least I have a cute partner.” Jongho said without thinking about it.

Yeah, he thought you were cute. He also thought there was a worse way to have to spend art class.

“Cute partner? I don’t think I know anyone in the art class.” Wooyoung commented, popping a grape into his mouth. “Her name’s Y/N and she’s kind of stuck with me as a partner for something that takes up a huge chunk of her grade. I feel bad.” Jongho said and perked up once he noticed you had entered the cafeteria. You had a quiet nature, avoiding bumping into people as you walked to an empty seat. You looked clumsy and cute, it made Jongho smile. “I’m assuming that’s her.” Hongjoong said, taking note of the way Jongho had gone quiet.

You had been racking your brain ever since class had ended. No offense to Jongho but you were stuck with him and it was making you anxious. You wanted to deliver something you could be proud of and you really had to think hard about it.

Jongho was a physical person, he liked physical activity and you could work with that. Slowly an idea started forming.

“Jongho!” You called as you saw him in the hall by his locker. You walked over to him, seeing his group of friends all close to him. “Hey, what’s up?” Jongho asked, swallowing before speaking. “I had an idea for the project, something that I think would work for the both of us.” You explained, eyes locking with his for a moment only for you to look away again. “Well, you’re the boss. When do you need me?” Jongho asked, his words flustering you slightly.

“Uhm we can get started this weekend if you’re free, at my place? I have a canvas that’s ready to go and paint.” You said with a soft smile, hoping the blush on your cheeks would die down a bit. Jongho was undeniably attractive and you weren’t used the attention.

“That works, I can come by on Saturday if you text me your adress.” Jongho said, trying really hard to ignore Wooyoung and San’s whispering next to him. You heard the whispers too, feeling uncomfortable as you felt they were about you and you looked to the floor. Jongho subtly jammed his elbow into Wooyoung’s stomach while pretending to adjust his shirt and they shut up.

“Perfect...” You started to walk away, awkwardness taking over before realising you forgot to say something. “Wait, I forgot to mention. Bring some clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, it could get messy.” You said, catching Jongho off guard before walking away again. How could you be so awkward out of nowhere?

You had managed to set the whole thing up... or at least step 1 of your project. It was easy, it was fun and it was creative. This project was going to help you let go a little and through out your week you were starting to see the positive side to this whole thing. You followed rules when it came to art and art didn’t have rules, you wanted to have fun with this.

“Did you find it okay?” You asked, leading him into your house. Jongho couldn’t help but be taken back by your appearance at first. Your shorts and huge what used to be white t-shirt, now covered in a rainbow of paint splatters. Your hair was messy not having bothered doing anything to it because it would get messed up anyways, but Jongho thought it was cute.

“I know I look like a crazy person but this is what I wear to paint so disregard that.” You added on, your sock covered feet padding over the wooden floor of your house. “It’s fine, it somehow suits you. You look comfortable.” Jongho commented, following you through the house.

“Uhm, what are we doing for the project. You never really told me.” Jongho said stopping in your living room and you turned around and looked at him. “Oh my God, you’re right.” You said covering your mouth and starting to laugh at your own stupidity. Jongho must’ve thought you were in an idiot.

“You must think I’m crazy. I get really scatterbrained when I start a project, I’m so sorry.” You explained and Jongho just watched you, grinning softly. He could tell your mind was going a mind a minute and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to be an artist. Sticking his hands in the pockets of his old jeans and just took you in. He didn’t think he was going to enjoy this experience that much at first, but that was slowly changing.

“So basically, I thought you don’t have painting or drawing experience so what can we do. Then I had another thought, you like being physically active and you’re probably good at throwing things too.” Jongho was starting to get concerned at your words, the concern being very visible on his face. “Throwing things?” He thought to himself.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good idea. I think... I was just thinking we should have a good time either launching waterballoons filled with paint at a canvas or we could tape the paint filled balloons to a canvas and throw darts at them. That’s up to you though.” Jongho’s concern quickly went away as he heard the rest of your idea. It sounded so fun and it was definitely something he could do. “I do believe you are a genius ma’am.” Jongho said and bowed jokingly.

“Really?” You asked, your voice sounding so hopefull. You let out a breath of relief as your concerns were wiped away. Something about Jongho was so incredibly refreshing and different from what you had expected. It was nice.

“I think launching the balloons at the canvas is the safest bet. Darts seem, dangerous.” He said as you walked into your yard together. You hummed in agreement, knowing he was probably right and knowing your aim. The last thing you wanted was Jongho going to the emergency room because you can’t throw.

“That seems fair, don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You said and gestured towards the canvas. You had filled the balloons beforehand and placed them in a bucket. Your mother was going to be upset at the fact that her grass would be splattered with paint, but you knew this would be forgotten if you told her it was for school.

“How did you come up with this?” Jongho asked as he picked up the bucket from next to the canvas and brought it a safe distance away. “ I don’t really know. I guess I was kind of forced to think outside of the box a little. I kinda have to thank you for that.” You confessed and gestured for him to have the first throw. “What do you mean?” He asked and launched a waterballoon at the canvas. It splattered bright orange against the crisp white and you couldn’t help but smile widely.

Jongho felt really good watching the color splatter over the canvas. It felt so good to do something like this.

“I mean, my art was starting to feel stiff. Repetitive. This was something I needed.” You explained and threw your own balloon, missing drastically and launching the blue paint over the grass. You covered your mouth in embarrassment and to hold back your laughter. Jongho tried to hold back a laugh but failed miserably and handed you another balloon. “The canvas is over there.” He joked and you hung your shoulders in feigned shame. “I’m not good at sports.” You confessed, throwing another balloon and barely clipping the canvas. Though hard enough to cause red splatter near the orange.

How your mannerism’s could be so endearing, he had no clue. You weren’t the type of girl Jongho normally gravitated too, but then again he was never really thrown into a situation like this before. He found himself enjoying this whole situation, immensly.

“So you’re friends with San and Wooyoung right?” You asked as the canvas gradually filled with more and more colors and splatters. Turning to Jongho, you noticed how the light was capturing him and his beautiful skin tone and for a moment you swore your heart started pounding faster. Tearing your eyes away, you fiddled with the hem of your paint stained shirt.

“Yeah, I am. Why?” He asked, noting the fact you were avoiding eye contact. “No reason really, they really are mood makers in class.” You complimented. Friendship was something you missed, you always found yourself too scatterbrained and busy to maintain them. Sure you had people you were friendly with at school, but not really someone you could call your friend.

“Yeah that’s true. Wooyoung can be so loud sometimes though.” Jongho chuckled to himself as he threw a balloon really hard against the canvas, nearly knocking it over. “Who do you hangout with?” Jongho asked and ran to the canvas, adjusting it back to it’s original position. You were hesitant to answer his question, you didn’t want him to pity you.

“No one really.” You admitted, your voice sounding oddly cheery. He looked at you confused at how you could sound so okay with that. “Really?” “Really.” You responded and sat down in the grass, your arms feeling tired from throwing and wanting a break. Jongho joined you, deciding he deserved a break as well.

“I’m bad at maintaining friends.” You said with a small laugh at your own self pity. “Ahh.” was the only sound to be heard from him. You both sat quietly for a moment and you leaned back to look at your project. “It looks really good. I think phase 1 is complete.” You nodded in approval and Jongho smiled widely, his nose crinkling in the cutest way.

“This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” Jongho admitted, not remember the last time he felt joy in a project that wasn’t sport related. “We should let this dry... do you want to watch a movie or something?” Your proposal caught Jongho off guard and yourself. You weren’t expecting those words to come out so smoothly, or to come out at all. It was all incredibly impulsive.

“I actually want to ask you something.” Jongho started and you looked at him with mildly scared eyes. “I was actually wondering if you would show me some of your art and maybe teach my how to do some stuff. I liked this alot more than I thought I would. It would be cool to know how to draw or be even a little helpfull to you in this project.” You were completely surprised, not sure how to respond. This was cool, this was amazing. It put such a big smile on your face you couldn’t help but cover it with your hand.

“I would absolutely love to teach you! Come on let’s go to my room. I have my art stuff up there.” He was surprised by your enthousiasm but it also warmed his heart. You were just so bubbly when it came to art, it was your happy space.

“I’m going to take a guess that this one is your room.” Jongho said and stood infront of your door. It was painted on a sweet little mural and made his smile grow even larger. “Lucky guess.” You said and looked away. You got bashfull for a moment, no one had really been up to your before, let alone a guy.

“This is so cool. It looks so amazing.” He ran his fingers over the painting. It was amazing to him that he could feel the brush strokes. “Thank you.” Your voice was small suddenly and Jongho looked back at you. “Like really amazing.” He never considering that art had texture, that was really cool.

Letting him in your room, you gestured for him to sit at your desk and grabbed a sketchbook and some pencils. “What do you want to learn?” You sat down next to him after placing the sketchbook in front of him. “I don’t know. What do you want to teach me?” Jongho asked leaning towards you with a cheeky smile. His actions flustered you and you looked away for a moment, making him giggle.

“You’re cute.” He stated, flipping your sketchbook open and slowly turning through the pages. How he could just say something like that? “Maybe teach me how to draw you.” He added on as he looked at the paper, trying to hide his giggly response to your reaction.

“How about I just teach you with what I started with? How faces work, if that’s okay.” You evaded and brushed your hair out of your face. You taught Jongho the lines on faces basic lines to follow and just let him draw to get an idea of what he could do. This was just for fun afterall, you didn’t do it completely seriously and neither did he. Jongho just wanted to spend more time with you and thought this was fun.

A silence crept over you both as he drew and you watched. You admired the pencil strokes and soft sound of the pencil on the paper, you also admired his hands. He had such nice, beautiful, tan skin and very nice hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how such nice hands would feel holding yours.

“Jongho...” You started, still just looking at his drawing and hands. He turned his head to you but you avoided eye contact, just looking at the paper. “Hmm?” “Can we be friends?” Your question caught him very off guard, it just wasn’t what he was expecting. “I mean, I kind of thought we already were.”

Week 2

Jongho had been thinking nonstop of his Saturday with you and he couldn’t help but think about how fun it would be to work on “Phase 2″ of the painting. This joy dragged on through the week, before he even really shared a class with you. He found himself doodling in his notebooks and even though they weren’t necessarily good in his opinion, it made him happy.

“So how was painting? I forgot to ask earlier.” Hongjoong asked as he greeted Jongho one morning. It was still early before class and students were slowly pouring in as the group of boys stood in front of the school. Jongho instantly smiled at the question, lovely thoughts filling his mind at the mere mention.

“It was a lot of fun. I kinda know how to draw now. Watch out I might become the next greatest artist.” Jongho joked and tucked his hands into his pocket. “Ah so you had because of art, not a certain partner?” San questioned, eyebrow cocking in Jongho’s direction. However someone caught Jongho’s eye, you.

“Y/N!” He called softly, waving at you. You were caught by surprised but waved back, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. That was when Jongho gestured for you to come over and your heart dropped a little. You had never really talked to his group of friends, ever. You were convinced they didn’t know you existed.

However you did it, you walked over there. Over the weekend you had made some decisions, some life decisions. One of them was inform your parents over the paint throwing in the yard BEFORE you did it and the other was go outside of your comfort zone more. Not only with your art, but also with your life. Making more friends was a little step in the right direction.

“Goodmorning.” You greeted in a singsong voice, making Jongho’s ears turn pink slightly. “Goodmorning.” He greeted back and saw how your arms folded over your chest, noticing some dried green paint by your elbow. “I’m Wooyoung. Do we have classes together?” Wooyoung asked and his question stung a little, you had a lot of classes with him and he just never noticed you.

“I know, we have quite a few classes together actually.” You laughed, brushing it off because you knew he meant no harm. This made Jongho frown, how could Wooyoung not know that?

“Have you been painting?” Jongho asked, changing the subject. “Oh, yeah I have been. Why?” You asked, being confused at his sudden question. “You have some green paint on your arm.” He smiled and reached out rubbing the paint mark gently with his fingers. His touch made your cheeks burn bright red, especially as you had an audience. You simply looked down at the ground as he took care of it. “There, I think I got it all.” He stepped back, eyes trained on your burning red face. You had never felt so relieved to hear a school bell.

He didn’t mean to fluster you like that, though he had to admit he thought it was ridiculously cute and you had never been flustered by a guy like that before. You liked it, you liked Jongho and it happened really fast.

Mrs. Kim noticed the chemistry that week, the chemistry between you and Jongho as you sketched out ideas and guided him when he drew. This was what she had hoped for, this was what she wanted. It was nice to see you smiling in class and it was nice to see someone who was thrown into an unlikely situation, run with it and make the best out of it.

“Okay but why are the eyes all the way up there?” You asked with a small laugh, your face by Jongho’s shoulder. “Look not everyone’s anatomy is the same.” He clarified, trying to hold back his laugh. You shook your head and grabbed your own pencil, doodling a little cartoon nose under horribly realistic eyes and making the whole drawing even funnier. “I guess you’re right about anatomy.” You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder for a split second. You didn’t know what came over you it was something you did unconsciously, you were comfortable.

Jongho felt his heart pound in his chest at your small action but didn’t respond, not wanting to make things weird. However he did notice something, something sweet. When you moved your head his nose filled with the scent of flowers and sweet hardcandy and he loved it. “Do you have time this weekend to work on the painting? If not it’s fine, but - nevermind.” You were going to say, you really enjoyed spending time with him but held it back. Jongho frowned, he couldn’t that weekend. He had to cover someone’s shift at the convenience store he worked at.

“I can’t this weekend, but next week I definitely can. I’m all yours.” He explained and your smile fell. “That’s too bad. The last time was fun. Like, really fun.” You said and turned away to your sketchbook. Jongho would’ve rather been with you than at the store, but work was something he couldn’t have just missed. With a sad smile, Jongho put his arm over the back of your chair to get your attention.

Your cheeks were pink when you looked at him and your lips were pouting slightly, he was suddenly completely willing to skip work. “You’re cute when you pout.” His words came out before he could catch them and watched as your cheeks turned even redder. Where did these things come from?

Week 3

The keychain was tucked carefully in Jongho’s hand as he waited for you in front of the school with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. He had seen the keychain on his way back home from work that Saturday. It was a small, stuffed, multicolored patchwork teddy bear on a rose gold keychain. When he saw it he thought of you and came to the conclusion, this was the way he was going to ask you out and break the sad news to you at the same time.

“Let me read the note again.” Seonghwa asked Jongho and the younger boy shook his head. “No, she should be here soon.” He was on firm lookout for your figure approaching the school.

Hongjoong tapped Seonghwa on the chest and whispered to him. “He seems to be nervous.” The statement was blatantly obvious and Seonghwa had to do everything in his power to not roll his eyes. “There she is.” He pointed out and Jongho quickly rolled the note up and slipped it inbetween one of the small loops on the keychain.

“Hey, Y/N.” Hongjoong said and waved at you. You walked over with a soft smile and greeted the 3, looking at Jongho a little longer. He looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with his hands under your gaze.

“So, how was your weekend?” Seonghwa asked, trying to distract you as Jongho moved by your backpack. “Pretty standard. Nothing really interesting.” You admitted and thought back to how boring it actually was. “How was it for you guys?” You asked and felt a little tug on your backpack from behind, turning your head you saw with his hand on your bag. “Sorry, you had a bug on your back. I think I flicked it off harder than I meant too.” He lied straight through his teeth, but the keychain was on your bag. “Oh, thanks.” You said, shaking your head slightly at how odd he was acting.

You looked at your watch, noting the fact that you still had to go talk to Mrs. Kim about a personal project. “I have to go talk to Mrs. Kim about something, but I will see you guys later.” You said and waved to them before starting to walk away. “Hey Y/N.” Jongho said after you, making you turn to look at him. He had a soft smile on his face and his ears were pink. “You look pretty today.” He said loud enough for not only Hongjoong and Seonghwa to hear, but the other students entering the school.

You covered your mouth to hide your smile and quickly turned away to go to Mrs. Kim. Jongho giggled at your response only to garner funny looks from his older friends. “You are completely whipped.” Hongjoong said, still in shock at what he had just witnessed. “So what if I am? She’s cute when she’s flustered. Besides she might not like me much once she finds out I’m not in the art class anymore.” Jongho grabbed his bag off of the ground. “I doubt that, she likes you too. It’s blatantly obvious.” Seonghwa shrugged and headed inside of the school. “It is?” Jongho asked himself, wondering how he didn’t pick up the signs.

“Y/N, good morning!” Mrs. Kim greeted as you entered her classroom. “Goodmorning.” You said in return and took a seat by her desk, laying your backpack in your lap.

“So things with your semester project have been going well?” She asked, looking at you with a smile. “Yeah they’ve been going really well...” Your voice trailed off once you noticed the colorfull trinket on your bag. “Sorry what was that?” Your head snapped up at her question and you tried ignoring the keychain. “Sorry, it’ been going great. Jongho is really fun to work with. I think he’s teaching me more than I’m teaching him.” You said, fingers now fiddling with the little teddy bear.

“I’ve noticed your not being so strict on yourself with drawing. It’s refreshing to see. It’s also refreshing to see you smiling in class.” Your fingers glided over the patchwork fabric, before moving to the chain where you noticed a rolled up piece of paper. “I have been happy.” You admitted, not being to contain your little smile. “Jongho does you good. Let’s pray he’ll be there to finish the project with you.” Mrs. Kim said, realising you were distracted in obviously happy thoughts. “Go to your first class, Ms. Y/N and get your head out of the clouds... in a few minutes.” She dismissed you and you smiled even wider.

You left her classroom and leaned against the wall in the hall. Unrolling the note that was now clutched in your hand, you read it to yourself.

“Hey Y/N,

I know this is kind of weird. But I guess that’s kind of fitting to our friendship, weird and something we both didn’t expect. Anyways, I saw this Saturday on my way home from work and it put a smile on my face. Naturally, the fact that it made me smile made me think of you. So please take this as a little gift, as a thank you for taking me under your colorful wing and making me smile.

This is also a sorry, the wrestling coach called me a few days ago and told me a position opened up on the team. So I won’t be in art class anymore. But I promise I will help you finish our project because, well I’m enjoying myself a lot and I want to spend more time with you.

That leads me to my next reason for this little gift. I was wondering if after this project, you would like to spend even more time with me? Maybe let me take you out on a date? If not, I would like to be friends, just let me know.

Also this bear’s name is Sunshine, take care of him well.

- Jongho”

You had to cover your mouth and remind yourself that you were in school and not home in your room. Jongho liked you too, Jongho liked spending time with you and it felt surreal. You hadn’t had a crush in a long time, let alone one that liked you in return.

Tucking the note in your pocket, you looked at the little teddy bear. “I’ll take care of you, Sunshine.” You said softly before scrambling for your class, noticing you were going to be late.

“You look happy.” Wooyoung commented as you past him to get to your seat. “I do?” You asked, not even attempting to hide your smile. “Yeah, you have that energy that says you got asked out.” Wooyoung was cheeky, you knew that but you didn’t know how much your demeanor could change from a simple confession. Yet here you were.

“How did you know that?” You asked him and he Wooyoung started laughing. “You both are blind. He was so nervous this whole week about asking you out and felt horrible about not being able to work on the painting this weekend. Jongho never shuts up about you.” He shrugged and casually unpacked his things from his bag. “He really likes you.” Wooyoung added on and you quickly made your way to your seat as you noticed your teacher had arrived. But class was far from your mind.

Jongho’s figure was recognizable from behind as you saw him walking in the hall. Broad shoulders, muscular figure and very soft looking hair, he was hard to miss. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward trying to catch up with him to tap him on the shoulder. This wasn’t something you yelled out through the crowd.

He turned around, instantly greeting you with a giant smile and his nose crinkling in the cutest way. “I found your note and your little gift.” You smiled just thinking about his sweet letter. Jongho’s cheeks turned bright red as he felt incredibly nervous to your response. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in person. I have a hard time talking about my feelings sometimes. I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.” His apology caught you off guard, could he really not see that you liked him too?

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him to the side and a bit away from other people wandering in the halls. “I would love to go on a date with you Jongho.” You blatantly stated, your hand still holding his. “Really?” His eyes went wide with disbelief, you liked him. Your fingers laced with his now and you started laughing. “I feel like we’re both horribly oblivious. Yes, really.” You were both quiet for a moment, thinking about how nice the other’s hand felt.

“So, we’re gonna try and finish this weekend? I want to take you out on that date.” He quickly said, making you laugh. Jongho didn’t realise how eager he sounded until it came out, but he didn’t care. You didn’t say anything and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug.

Jongho reciprocated the action, arms wrapping around your waist gently as he hugged you in return. His face tucked into your neck and he took a deep breath. You smelled nice, like flowers and sweet hardcandies and as if Jongho needed anymore convincing that he liked you.

The weekend rolled around fast enough, yet you found yourself in a slump. The ideas you had regarding the project seemed less and less appealing as the days went by and surely enough you hated your idea. You were so inspiration blocked that you had reverted to spending your Saturday morning sitting infront of the paint splattered canvas, hoping to get an idea.

“Y/N, you’re partner is here. I’m going to go to run some errands and then go out to dinner with friends. Have fun!” Your mother said from your bedroom door and you turned your head to her. “Alright mom, thanks.” You said and watched Jongho awkwardly enter your bedroom.

“Hey.” He said softly, taking note of the fact that you weren’t in your paint clothes but dressed quite cute. Short denim overalls and an oversized striped shirt underneath, very simple and cute but completely fitting to you. But you didn’t look that happy, as a matter of fact you looked distraught.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho asked and sat down on your bed. “I have no idea how to finish this. I had one, but now I hate it. I don’t know how to continue.” You explained, pulling your knees to your chest and looking at Jongho. He had a concerned expression, nose crinkling as his eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm.” He hummed and turned around to look at the paint splatters.

“Scoot over.” He said, kicking his shoes off and sitting down next to you at the top of your bed, back leaning against the headboard. The side of his body pressed into your comfortably as he settled down to stare at the painting. “How long have you been doing this?” He asked, glancing towards you and taking note of how incredibly close your faces were.

“Too long.” You mumbled, resting your head on your knees. “Entirely too long.” Your voice was soft as you continued to look straight ahead. Art block was the worst feeling.

“Distract me a little. How was your first wrestling practice?” You asked, genuinely interested in the topic. You craned your head to look at him, also taking note of how close your faces were. “It was really nice to be back in a familiar space again.” He started and you watched him speak. He looked happy talking about his passion and the made you feel mushy on the inside. Was this how he felt when you talked about art?

You couldn’t help but giggle at his happy expression, he was ridiculously cute and he didn’t even know it. “What was that for?” Jongho asked, leaning into you a little more with a soft smirk. “Happy is cute on you. Can I come to a match of yours?” You asked, burrying your face into your arms a little more. The question was surprising but Jongho loved it, you were slowly taking initiative. “I would love for you to come to a match of mine.” His voice was hushed suddenly, not feeling the need to speak loud. Even though it was just the two of you home, he wanted this moment to be private.

You both simply looked at eachother for a moment, the project at hand being far away from your thoughts. Jongho’s hand moved to yours and you let him take it. His thumb drawing shapes over your soft skin.

“Can I kiss you?” His question caught you completely off guard, but not in a negative way at all. He realised the question was kind of out of the blue, but your naturally pink tinted cheeks, pouty lips and soft expression were too much for him. He really wondered if your lips tasted like the way you smelled, like sweet candy.

You nodded and lifted your head from your arms, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand gently moved up your arm. You leaned further into him and smiled as his hand finally reached your cheek, cupping it gently. He was watching you and admired the way your eyes fluttered shut, the soft smile playing on your lips and the deeper pink tint on your cheeks.

He finally leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, fingers moving under your chin. His lips were pillowy, soft and incredibly gentle against yours, not wanting to hurt you in any way or form. To him, you tasted exactly like he thought you would. Sweet like candy and he absolutely loved it.

You didn’t realise it until you pulled away, but your hand was on his chest gripping his t-shirt. “Sorry.” You mumbled, letting go only for his hand to catch yours and keep it there on his chest. “It’s okay.” His voice came out as whisper as he locked eyes with you. You gripped his shirt again, now using it as leverage to pull his lips against yours again. This time catching Jongho slightly by surprise.

This kiss was different, the soft, careful demeanor being a lot less present as he pulled you into him. His hands were on your waist and you moved to sit on your knees, lips not seperating once. As his lips moved against yours, you hummed as he squeezed your waist gently before threading your fingers through his silky hair.

“You taste sweet.” He mumbled against your lips and wrapped his arms around you fully. Jongho laid down, making sure to pull you with him and allowing you to rest on his chest. He looked at your flushed cheeks and smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “God you’re so cute.” He commented, revelling in the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

You tugged slightly and watched his eyes close, long eyelashes catching your attention. Jongho was pretty enough to draw. What you weren’t expecting however, was the low groan the emitted from his throat.

You kissed him again with a total new feeling to it. The way he looked, the way he sounded, it was too much. Jongho could feel it too, the way your breathing had sped up, the way your chest pressed against his, it was all just completely natural for him to get worked up.

As his tongue glided over your bottom lip, gaining more access to your mouth, his hands grabbed your waist and moved you where he wanted you. Straddling his waist now, you could completely feel the effect you had on him and a wave of nerves hit you. “Jongho...” You started, sitting up slightly and only placing your clothed core over his. A moan came out before you could finish what you were saying and the heat on your cheeks flooded back.

“I’ve never done this before.” You finished, your hands on his chest as he looked up at you. “That’s okay, we don’t have to.” He said quickly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable at all. He wouldn’t want you to do anything you would regret. “That’s not what I meant, I just wanted you to know. I want to do this, if you do.” You said, smiling softly at his gentle words and hands coming to find yours. Your finger’s laced together and you looked at how well they fit.

“I do. I really do.” He said, sitting up so that his face was inches from yours again. His movements made his hips buck into yours, shooting relief through your body and making you squeeze his hands. Jongho was loving your little reactions to minor movements.

His lips attached to your jaw, lacing light kisses over the skin and keeping his eyes on you. Your eyes were closed and you were loving the feeling of his lips on your skin. His finger tips danced over the skin of your arms before holding the back of your neck tightly. Lips moving down over your neck, you let out a gasp as he nipped at your skin. “You sound so pretty.” Jongho praised and his words went straight to your core.

“If you want to stop, just tell me.” He said between kisses on the base on your neck. “Please don’t.” Your words came out as a whine even at the thought. He felt so good.

You toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, hoping he’d take the hint that he would take it off. “You’re eager.” Jongho commented and pulled his lips off of your skin. You thought your eagerness had killed the mood and were about to apologize, when he swiftly pulled his shirt off over his head.

His skin looked soft like satin and you found your fingers wandering over the newly exposed skin before moving to the clips of your overalls. You took a deep breath and undid them swiftly, tugging your shirt off and discarding it with his. This amount of exposure was new to you and you felt incredibly shy, the simple white lace of your bra not seeming nice enough for the occasion. You looked down, breaking eye contact with him.

“You’re so beautiful.” His comment made your heart flutter and you looked up again. “So beautiful.” He repeated and you took the plunge, pressing your lips to his harshly and pushing him back. Jongho found that he quite enjoyed the weight of your body on his and that he really enjoyed the feeling of your chest against his, no he loved the feeling. “So soft.” He complimented again as his fingers ran over the skin of your back.

“Stop complimenting me.” You giggled and let out a yelp as he flipped you both over. His hard on was now directly pressing against your core, harshly and your hair was splayed over your pillow. “Why should I stop?” Jongho asked and kissed over your collarbones, his tongue peaking out to lick at your skin. Moving down further, his mouth was at the edge of your bra and his hands moved to undo it. “I mean every word, you know.” He said and watched you slide the item of clothing off of your arms.

“Why are you being so sweet?” You asked as your arms covered your now bare chest in slight embarrassment. Your question was very surprising to Jongho, he didn’t have a reason not to be. He felt incredibly lucky to be in the position he was in and he was going to let you know that, you deserved that.

“Because I feel lucky. You’re trusting me, you’re letting me do this with you.” He explained, odd kisses being placed around your lips. “I feel lucky too, lucky I’m doing this with you.” You admitted and your arms moved away from your chest, feeling even more comfortable with him.

Jongho allowed his hands to move to your chest, squeezing your breast slightly as he nipped at your skin. The kisses became more intense as you felt him suck on your skin, he wanted to leave marks. You hummed when his tongue moved over your nipple, licking the nub before wrapping his lips around it. Moaning, your nails moved over his shoulders and he hummed, vibrations somehow moving through your whole body.

His lips lazily moved over your skin to reach your other nipple, to give it the same attention as his hands moved down your torso. He pushed your overalls down and you helped him pull them off, but not wanting his mouth off of your skin. Your breathing picked up as his hand rubbed over your clothed slit and he bit down on your nipple slightly. All of this was just so stimulating, you couldn’t help but already feel something starting to bubble up in your stomach.

“Jongho~” You moaned, nails digging into his shoulders again. He was loving the fact that he could draw these reactions from you. He pulled your underwear to the side, making you gasp as his index finger ran over your bare slit and gathered your arousal. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” He said again as he knew things were getting more intense. Jongho looked at you as you bit your bottom lip, him pushing his finger into you slowly. You mewled and shut your eyes, accepting the new feeling and loving it. His finger curled and he repeated his actions. You were so tight around him, making his mind wander to how you’d feel wrapped around him.

His finger’s picked up with pace, curling his finger every now and then before adding another. It was a bit of a stretch but nothing uncomfortable, the opposite actually. You were a moaning mess, the coil in your stomach tightening rapidly with each thrust of his fingers.

Your hand shot up, covering your mouth as a particularly loud moan left you, your other hand grabbing his hair. Jongho could tell you were incredibly close to cumming, walls tightening around his fingers and he watched your face. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were shut, but your hand was still covering your mouth.

“Let me hear you.” Jongho pleaded, lips moving by your ear as his pace picked up even more. “Cum for me, please.” He mumbled, kissing the skin softly as you tried shutting your legs instinctively. His hand prevented that and you pulled his lips onto yours as you released, back arching of the mattress. He kept pumping his fingers through your orgasm as you kissed him deeply and moaned against his lips.

You whined, moving to push his hand away because the feeling was too much. “Too much.” You whimpered and Jongho pulled his hand away. “You did so good.” He mumbled into the skin of your neck only for it to be cut off with a moan. Your hand had found his bulge and you palmed it gently. It wasn’t fair that you were getting all the attention. Jongho burried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your hand grip him through his jeans.

A wave of nerves overtook you as you felt how big he was, but you weren’t backing down now. You wanted him.

You undid his jean and he helped you pull them down, laughing slightly at the awkward movements. But it didn’t kill the mood at all, as a matter of fact the small giggles put you more at ease. As he stripped himself of his jeans and boxers, you pulled your own underwear off and threw it to the ground.

Jongho sat on his knees inbetween your legs, cock standing against his lower stomach. He looked thick and you couldn’t help but feel the heat pool between your legs again. Before you did anything else you reached towards your nightstand and pulled open the drawer. You had a small box of condoms stored there for a rainy day and today it was pouring.

He watched you, running his hands over your thighs as you went to pull a condom out. Something about the action was so innocent, especially when you handed it to him with wide eyes. Smiling, he grabbed and leaned forward to kiss your lips lightly. You watched him tear open the foil packet and roll it on, the action being very intriguing to watch.

“You’re still okay with this right?” Jongho asked as one of his hands found your hip. “I am. I promise.” You said softly and found that for some reason you weren’t nervous anymore. You felt so cared for and comfortable, you didn’t have a reason too.

Using his hand, he raised your hips and guided himself towards your slit. Running the tip over your slit and gathering some of your wetness before pressing into you. Jongho made sure to lean forward and hold you close as he looked for any signs of discomfort or pain. But it didn’t hurt, the stretch was a little uncomfortable but there wasn’t any pain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“You okay?” He asked, kissing your lips gently before bottoming out completely. You let out a small gasp at the full feeling and your walls clenched in response. He felt so good. You nodded and looked up into his eyes, allowing your body to adjust to him. “Please move.” You whined slightly, any discomfort you had being completely gone and now just being very needy. You bucked your hips making Jongho chuckle before drawing his own hips back.

He started off slow, his hands moving down to hold your thighs and wrap your legs around his waist. Hips drawing out and in gently. The way your body was angled made him hit all the right spots and making the feeling even more intense than it was with his fingers. “Jongho, you feel so good.” You choked out as your fingers toyed with the hairs on the back of his neck.

“No baby, you feel good. You look so good for me.” He commented into your neck before looking at your expression. Your cheeks were the pinkest he had ever seen and you’re lips were swollen, eyes hooded as you looked up at him with a moan leaving you as you did.

“So beautiful.” He remarked, saying it more to himself than anyone else. His hips picked up the pace, causing your nails to dig into his shoulders and a small cry came from your mouth. You were so close again and Jongho could feel it. Your walls squeezed him tighter and tighter with each move of his hips and he couldn’t help but let out a groan at the feeling. His hand moved inbetween your legs and gently rubbed your clit, feeling that he was on the edge of cumming as well.

“Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He mumbled, moaning through his own sentence as his hips stuttered and stilled completely. Your own orgasm following not far behind, making your legs tighten around his waist. A small cry left your mouth as you felt your legs shake slightly and Jongho rubbed them soothingly as he came down from his own high.

He allowed himself to rest on top of you with a small laugh and you pet his hair, breathing heavily yourself. “Thank you for being so sweet to me.” You whispered softly, barely being audible. Jongho lifted his head to look at you, smiling before getting off of you and laying next to you. “Thank you for being you. It makes being sweet easy.” You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment and he started laughing. “We just had sex but that embarrasses you? You’re a beautiful surprise everytime I’m with you.” Jongho chuckled and turned over onto his side to look at you. His fingers started tracing over the bare skin of your stomach and he just admired you.

Jongho felt like he was head over heels for you and he had never felt that way for anyone before.

You were watching his expression, taking note of how happy and giggly he was. His eyes were sparkling and that was something you never really noticed before. That was when an idea came to you.

“Oh.” You said, sitting up suddenly and catching him off guard. “Oh? What’s wrong?” Jongho asked and followed your body as you quickly pulled on clothes. “Nothing’s wrong, I have an idea for the project.” You smiled at him and he shook his head in disbelief. Your mind was fascinating to him.

You tugged on your painting shirt and placed yourself on the floor infront of the paint splattered canvas. In all honesty, you were done looking at the thing but you had to take inspiration when it came, even if it was an odd time.

Jongho moved to put his jeans back on, not feeling the need for his shirt just yet as he sat behind you on the ground. He pressed his chest to your back and watched you grab a white chalk pencil. “Why a white pencil?” He asked, genuinely curious as to what you were doing. “Because white shows up better on the colors of background than a regular pencil would.” You explained and leaned back into his bare chest.

“Oh.” His voice was soft as he spoke by your ear, sending goosebumps over your body. You giggled slightly and just started sketching, glancing back at him to get a general idea of his eyes and their shape. “What’s your idea beautiful?” He asked and you smiled. “I’m going to paint you. Well, just your eyes. Because I can and you opened my eyes to trying new things.” You explained and started mapping out his features. Jongho fell quiet at your explanation pressed his lips to your shoulder, just feeling greatfull.

Week 4

Walking into the cafeteria, you stretched out your back and adjusted your bag. Painting was doing a number on your posture but you loved how it was starting to look and so was Jongho. He knew he didn’t do much when it came to the project itself but he still felt proud, of you and of the work he had done.

You spotted Jongho at his table with the other’s and smiled. You hadn’t seen him since that Saturday and were wondering if things were going to be awkward, they weren’t over text. But in real life things could be different.

He obviously hadn’t told any of the others about that Saturdays’ actual events, it was too private and too sacred to him for that. Eventhough he hadn’t seen you since that day, you were the only thing running through his mind. At wrestling practice, in class, at work and at home. His head was in the clouds and he absolutely never wanted to come down.

Catching a glimpse of you, he couldn’t help but wave you over. When you saw him standing, smiling and waving to you from his table you realised you were worried about nothing.

“Hey beautiful.” Jongho said, earning a deep blush from you and surprised looks from the others. “That’s new.” San commented and Jongho smacked him on the shoulder, before grabbing your hand. He sat back down and pulled you down with him so that you were sat on his knee. It was intimate and it garnered looks from people who didn’t know what was going on between you two, but you really couldn’t care. You were although embarrassed, incredibly happy.

“Project needs to be turned in a week. Think we’ll finish it on time?” Jongho asked softly and you nodded your head. “I think so. I have to present it too. But you have wrestling practice, so you focus on that. I can handle the rest of the project.” You assured, allowing your hand to come up to his cheek. Jongho could feel his ears turning pink at the sudden affection, not used to you being the one to make the first move.

Your thumb stroked his cheek gently and you quickly pecked his lips. You were feeling brave. “What was that?” He asked while giggling and you shrugged.

“Just another new thing I’m trying out.”

A/N: This took too long to write and it is all over the place. This is also the biggest story I have ever written so if you actually take the time to read this... I’m sorry?

Sorry it took so long as well. A lot of stuff has been going on in my brain lately. Anyways, feedback is kindly appreciated and encouraged.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez reaction #ateez scenario #jongho #jongho scenario #jongho smut #jongho reaction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung

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365days365movies · 3 years

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March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She’s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old.

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

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And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

#orlando #orlando 1992 #sally potter #tilda swinton #billy zane #lothaire bluteau #john wood #virginia woolf #orlando film #fantasy march #user365 #365 movie challenge #365days365movies #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #mygifs #my gifs

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

---------------------------------------

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

--------------------------------

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

----------------------------------

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

------------------------------------------

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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beebrainedstudios · 3 years

Text

A Few Notes About ADSOM’s Writing/Themes Type Stuff

Because I’m in the mood to ramble and have a few opinions about some smaller things in the series that I actually think are really cool/smart writing. This is all personal opinion and is based on a bunch of half-formed thoughts and realizations, so if you disagree or think I missed something, please know I probably did, I’m just jotting this down for fun and have not fully explored all these concepts yet. They just seem neat at first glance. Also, other books have probably done some of this stuff too; I’m not saying Schwab is the only one who’s done any of this stuff, I’m just saying that it’s cool that it’s in ADSOM.

- First of all, props to Schwab for Alucard. I know there have been plenty of authors who have brought new characters in later in a series with no prior warning, but I have rarely seen one so immediately popular and gripping in a trilogy as Alucard except for Finnick from the Hunger Games. Alucard’s introduction doesn’t come at the cost of another character (as in, he’s not there to make someone who’s supposed to be bad look even worse) and his arc doesn’t supersede anyone else’s. He’s great, and the fact that he is generally considered part of the main group despite being introduced a whole book later is awesome and a testament to his character.

- Sort-of connected to the previous point, but I think one of the reasons Alucard works so well is that he doesn’t have a giant arc. Everyone else in the series has a fairly complex internal conflict going on (excluding Lila, but she still has a long arc even if it’s shallow) and Alucard does too, but his is one that suits his shorter presence in the story; he doesn’t have to become king/learn to stop running from responsibility/change allegiances every five minutes. He just has to figure out how to confess a painful secret to several people who aren’t willing to listen. Schwab, especially in ADSOM, isn’t afraid to give characters different size arcs at different times; if you graphed them all, it wouldn’t be a bunch of near-identical lines that could be mistaken for one, it’d be a bunch of crazy curves that start and end at different times and reach different heights. When authors who have larger casts do this, it instantly makes the story twice as engaging. Alucard’s just a good example of this.

- I know this one’s a bit more controversial, but Kell/Lila actually has a lot of narrative potential for Threads of Power. In the main series, it’s framed against Rhy/Alucard, which is already an established relationship (even if it took a break) where the two characters know each other well; this is why, once Alucard can confirm he never meant to leave, the two get back together relatively smoothly and happily. Their relationship is much more matured than Kell and Lila’s, which is why Kell/Lila’s chemistry can sometimes read as a little strange (at least to me), and why I don’t think it’s necessarily a perfect relationship just yet. Lila is a very strong personality with a bit of a demanding streak; Kell in turn has a massive problem with caving to others and refusing to stand up for himself (I’m gonna talk about this later). Left unchecked, this will become a problem, but if addressed in Threads of Power, it can lead to two really engaging arcs with Kell learning he does not have to be everyone’s emotional punching bag and with Lila learning that it isn’t enough to just stay in a relationship- there has to be give and take, something she hasn’t demonstrated well yet. Maybe they’ll even take a break in Threads of Power to give the pair time to mature (I’m personally rooting for Alucard and Kell to somehow get stuck together while Lila gets stuck with Rhy). IDK, I think Kell/Lila is cool, especially when taken as a work in progress over a fully fledged relationship.

- This is part of the previous point and part of the following one, but I think the fact that Kell’s personality and problems are largely focused on his tendency to avoid conflict is a really cool idea for a protagonist, especially a man (note that I’m not calling him weak here). This may not sound like Kell’s personality, but let me explain. Kell is insanely noncombative, and almost everything he does to try and solve a problem reads to me as him actively trying to avoid confronting someone about it. “I don’t feel like part of the royal family because I have no princely attributes despite being one in name, and while I acknowledge I’m lucky I still can’t get rid of these feelings”- Smuggles instead of talking to the Maresh (he tried with Rhy and Lila and look how that turned out). “I’m feeling pent-up because I almost died multiple times in less than twenty-four hours/have trauma and am being punished with isolation/no longer even being called a son despite the fact my magic acts up when this happens”- Competes in the Essen Tasch instead of talking to Maxim. “I hate you because you hurt my brother’s feelings when you abandoned him and I had to pick up the pieces”- Consistently antagonizes Alucard instead of really confronting him/letting him explain himself because that would mean that Kell’s ingrained-trained protectiveness of Rhy has caused another problem. Kell is a character who seems very proud and sure of himself, but when one looks closer, he actually has very little confidence. He has no self-respect, and that sets him up great for his narrative foil- Holland.

- Holland and Kell have a complex narrative relationship as two very well developed foils, and a lot of this has been addressed by the fandom before, but one of the most interesting points I haven’t seen much of is their thematic exploration of respect vs pride. Holland is a character who doesn’t like himself- this much is obvious- but while he takes no pride in his own actions, he has an insane amount of self-respect. He has to be literally forced into following another’s will, he doesn’t let other people’s opinions get himself down, he gives as good as he gets always no matter how hard it is. Holland has to be beaten into submission, and even then he simmers with righteous anger over it because he knows he should get to make his own choices. Holland has self-respect; I may hate myself, but that doesn’t mean I will let you disrespect me.

Meanwhile, Kell is a people-pleaser who puts on a facade of confidence who never actually uses it. Kell has pride in himself- in things like his magic, his coat, his wit- but he doesn’t actually have a lot of self-respect. He folds to anyone who is more demanding than him (AKA everyone else in the series), and the other characters abuse this constantly. Rhy, whether he means to or not, uses his influence over Kell to keep him from standing up to the Maresh over their constantly-shifting parenting positions. Maxim and Emira use their affection and respect like bait to get Kell to do what they want even when he’s uncomfortable. Lila can yell at Kell about his upbringing or accuse him of overprotectiveness (sometimes fairly, sometimes not) and Kell will simply stop talking. Kell just lets this happen; he doesn’t ever stand up for himself because he has been convinced things are usually his fault. I may like myself just fine, but I will let you walk all over me because it’s not my place to stop you and I’m probably the problem and also I shouldn’t have wanted XYZ in the first place. It doesn’t matter how much Kell debates with himself if he started the conflict or if he rails against the way he’s addressed- as long as Kell isn’t respected by his loved ones or the people around him, he won’t respect himself, and that is simultaneously really interesting and really, really sad.

- Also on the Holland and Kell front, Holland using Kell as the metaphorical scapegoat for his issues makes perfect sense, especially since I think he actually knows he isn’t in the right. Kell is often in places where Holland is at least uncomfortable and at worst in pain, and he is the tangible representation of Red London, the world Holland hates most of all. I’m convinced Holland’s brain put two and two together, which is why Holland often punishes/hurts/hates Kell for Red London’s systemic issues even when it is obvious to everyone involved Kell isn’t to blame. Holland lashes out at Kell in their first meeting because he’s offended that Red London is successful and White London is not; this isn’t Kell’s fault. He blames Kell for a)killing him and b)killing the Danes and stealing his vengeance; this also isn’t Kell’s fault. He even seems to get a little bit of satisfaction over the idea of sicking Osaron on Red London through Kell, despite the fact that making a deal with Osaron wasn’t Kell’s idea either; it was Holland’s (Kell didn’t have a choice to kill him and didn’t think he’d survive, but Holland still seems to interpret it as Kell banishing him to Black London, even though he would absolutely do the same thing in his shoes). Holland is a very angry person and Kell is unfortunately put in his way a lot, but I still think it’s neat that the very-rational Holland seems to have an awareness that this behavior isn’t fair/has unfair intentions but still is unwilling to stop anyway. He’s using this grudge as a coping mechanism and that feels really realistic to me.

- Minor point here, but the knowledge that eye color and stuff is incredibly varied and changes with magic use makes my little artist heart very happy indeed.

- I’m a big Osaron fan, and one of the things about him that I think is really cool is how completely unconcerned with revenge he is. Yes, he holds grudges against the Antari, but he doesn’t seem to care that he got locked in Black London for centuries. He has taken no personal offense over it, and that makes him seem even more inhuman to me- Holland spent like six hours in Black London and he carried that grudge for ages. Also, his complete certainty that he was not going to repeat the Black Plague in Red London is hilarious to me- he’s like a dog that keeps knocking its toy somewhere it can’t reach because it doesn’t compute that repeating the same action will always have the same result. Surely this won’t go wrong again, Osaron thinks, as the world once again starts dying off. He’s kind of an idiot, and I love that.

- The fact that Kamerov is both a knight and silver themed during a time when Rhy is throwing himself into his role as the Golden Prince may be unintentional, but is still cool nonetheless.

#i may reblog this later with more if i have any other revelations #but for now this will do #adsom #a darker shade of magic #shades of magic #ve schwab #agos #a gathering of shadows #a conjuring of light #acol #adsom theory #adsom headcanon #bee rambles #alucard emery #rhy maresh #kell maresh #lila bard #holland vosijk

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wexhappyxfew · 3 years

Text

The Nightingales of Fortune Favors the Brave

A Band of Brothers Fanfic Coming Fall 2021 (or presumably whenever Landslide finishes up!)

HELLO!! If you’re reading this, then as you can see, I’ve finally created a master post with all my Nightingales (well, not really mine THE PUBLIC’S but you’ve all gifted them to me ever so graciously, and it honestly, it means the world to me). Just to see the excitement and reception I’ve gotten from so many people in the fandom involving a female group of Pathfinders - an area of war, I have wanted to cover ever since nearly over 2 years ago I got involved in the fandom. All OC’s will have their creators name listed beside them - I did not create any of these OC’s, all credit goes to the lovely people who crafted and gifted them to me for FFTB!

Viewing where I currently am in my life, I’m going to going to college this year! I got accepted into the school I wanted, the program I wanted, even a scholarship! And I’m beyond excited. I really wanted to have something there for me when college does finally, you know, HAPPEN, and so Fortune Favors the Brave was the only way to go! To have a wonderful group of Nightingales, of female Pathfinders in the Band of Brothers fandom, seemed to be the way to go. Updates and such will definitely be different - I’m picking up more work hours this year, probably even summer classes, night classes, weekend classes - whatever I can do to benefit my degree and myself, I’m taking the opportunity.

And so, updates will presumably be quite different, depending on a variety of things, but...this will be my college story! No matter how many years it takes to complete and update and write, this will be the thing I have with me through it all for when I need a mental break from school! And I am beyond excited for when I do finally get to share this story more than anything!

We have such a great group of OCs here - different backgrounds, different reasons for joining, different creators who gifted them to me, different friendships, relationships and abundances of sisterhood and brotherhood moments. I’m truly beyond excited to showcase the Pathfinders side of the war in the light of 16 female OCs, whose stories will be told through their viewpoints based on different episodes whether whole or split!

So thank you ALL!! These past 2 years have been a joy in the fandom and let’s hope for another few more! I’ve managed 3 fics and 4 books total and I’m excited to bring, presumably, my FINAL Band of Brothers fic in the fandom to you all in the near future. Thank you!! <3

THE NIGHTINGALES

Team C DZ C for 506th PIR, 501st PIR

-> 2/506 PIR (Stick 2/Plane #4)

-- TOCCOA VETERANS --

Team Leader

Captain Eleanor Graham - @basilone

Eleanor Graham had never met a challenge she couldn’t conquer - the eldest of four and a farmer’s daughter, teamwork and diligence were drilled into her mind like clockwork, along with being as much of a leader in the eyes of her family as she could. There was more to life than a farmer’s wife for her future though, no matter how much she adored the farm her family had grown to craft from the ground up. Iowa brought no opportunity except the farm life deemed fit for her, so upon seeing the advertisement “ It’s Your Fight Too “, OCS had never seemed like a better choice in her eyes. Because it was all their fights - man, woman, child, anyone - it was a World War, a fight for all their lives, for human lives. And with the capability to obtain Captain just before leaving for Camp Toccoa, it solidified her position for not only leading in Easy Company, but leading the Nightinagles - the first stick of female Pathfinders.

Assistant Team Leader

Lieutenant Florence Godfrey - @pxpeyewynn

A British lady and an artist at heart, from the little town of Avebury, set inside Wiltshire of Great Britain, her father made it big in New York just as the war that swarmed throughout Europe, erupted into spitfire. And suddenly thrust into the world of an America before war, was unsettling. Her country fought while America remained neutral. Yet, when the advertisement flooded throughout New York City - she couldn’t help but take it as her only way to get into war. OCS was beyond enough challenges, but walking in as a Lieutenant for Easy and for the Pathfinders, she was no longer the little girl who prayed at night to whomever was above to end the people’s suffering, or avoided interaction to instead draw in her notebook. She was a Lieutenant, and she was a woman at war - yet what was she even fighting for?

Eureka Operators (each equipped with a Eureka Transponder each)

Sergeant (NCO) Marie Reynal - @thoughpoppiesblow

Grandmère Reynal always held her at night, under the dark night sky and sang in her soulful Cajun French, the words flowing from her lips and remaining an ever-present comfort in times where food was hardly ever on the table, or when she had to watch the other girls at school get the latest Mary-Janes and she was stuck with her old ones. Her grandmère taught her to appreciate the small things in life. But when the “It’s Your Fight Too” poster came out in the papers, Marie Reynal knew there were larger things in life than the newest Mary-Janes at school. Packing up what she could, Marie headed out to Camp Toccoa, equipped with nothing but some clothes and her fiddle.

Corporal Edith Lockner - @mercurygray

Remember to look up - her mother would always tell her that. Especially when things on their little farm got hard in Stanford, Illinois where the only thing that occurred there was the wagering price of corn that fluctuated with the ever-changing times. So...she figured that’s why she always tended to look to the stars when her mother would tell her that before bed each night, looking out the wooden window under her quilt as a cold draft blew in. She always imagined herself up there, amongst the stars and for once seeing what the stars saw. But to be up with those stars and to get to study them, she’d need a lot more money than what ever amount the corn tended to bring in. And the Airborne with a fantastic pay grade, along with the Pathfinders and their earnings -- it seemed her ticket out. Maybe there won’t be stars - but anything’s got to be better than here.

Wireman

Corporal Chiyoko ‘Luna’ Omori - @papersergeant-pencilsoldier

Know your place. Eyes down, mouth shut. And most importantly, honor your family. Chiyoko Omori has never been one to step out of line, nor has she been one to speak when otherwise not spoken too. Trained in the art of kendo, the Japanese martial arts that her ancestors trained in, she leads with discipline and integrity amongst the group of Nightingales training as Pathfinders, as the solo wireman of the group. Her intelligence, more than once, has saved her and in war might just save her again and again. Her father’s garage had always been home to a multitude of repairs and many she had learned to do herself. But there she had been Chiyoko. But for war, she must forget who Chiyoko is and embody the only other name besides her family name that she will ever know - Luna.

Lightmen (each equipped with 2 Halophane Lamps each)

Staff-Sergeant (Senior NonCom) Sarah Prowse - @junojelli

For once in her life Sarah Prowse would not have her twin brother by her side. He hadn’t been by her side for years after he went back home to fight with the English and lost his life at Dunkirk. But this was real, this was happening - and the Pathfinders withheld the opportunity to prove to herself that Edmund had died with valor and courage. And he would not have died in vain. The nannies had always said they were inseparable but they weren’t those kids anymore. This was real life. And in real life, there was love and loss and pain. And sometimes the only way to get through it all was to do the thing to distract you most from it all. Some days she wished her family could’ve just stayed in England - maybe Mum would still be here. With her sharp mind, and the ability to read people like an open book, rising to the rank Staff-Sergeant had come easily - reading the field and reading people were pretty similar...right?

Corporal Jean Dawson - @tvserie-s-world

Life in Louisville, Kentucky had always been a sort of cozy-comfort that Jean Doxon had always enjoyed. The weekend fairgrounds filled to the brim with people enjoying the night life it offered, early summers filled with watching her father race horses around the tracks sprinkled throughout the town and nights by her boyfriend, Glenn Hartley, where the sky seemed to stretch forever into the night. That is before the war sent him away to the Pacific. And their only form of communication was reduced to letters, with pressed flowers and the hint of rose perfume. Jean refused to mope about, when she knew this war was hardly far from over. Quick-thinking on her feet, and a town champion for knot-tying in her days in elementary, she packed what she could and left for Georgia the second she was able to take the first train out. The Airborne had much to offer, but more importantly so did the Pathfinders.

Corporal Mercy Codonoa - @whoahersheybars

Mercy Codona always been a traveler, never staying in one place and always on the move to somewhere new that she might've never quite been before. This meant new neighbors, new friends and a new way of life. Something the United States readily offered. Each new town in a new state had a different way of life than the next. She figured that's why she was so quick to adapt to her surroundings - nothing was ever permanent, nor set in stone. Neither was family. Orphaned by 17 and left to fend for herself, left in the care of her mother's estranged sister, Mercy took the liberty by herself to do what she could to support herself. Taking up odd jobs in each town she traveled to and managing what she could to feed herself. But she was proud of her Romani-Croat heritage and what her ancestors had done in their past lives. She intended on continuing what their stories had not finished. If only she could continue to support herself. It was only when the "It's Your Fight Too" showed up newly on the Fort Wayne clipboard by the post office in April 1942 and then and there in that moment did she decided - with the extra money the Airborne offered, along with that of the Pathfinders, she'd be able to support herself in the future as well as possibly find people with the same dreams as herself for their futures, and for once finally belong.

Private Kennedy Rutlidge - MINE

Kennedy Docherty had always had quite a wild and exciting mind, always having a new idea, or a new method on selling the most recent paper that got her a few cents an hour. All through her schooling years and even up to her senior year, she took to the busiest corner on Lake Ave and Lyell Ave, calling out to sell her papers, before heading home for the night and running her normal routine the very next day. She spent summers at Lake Ontario, in her grandmother's home on the lake, where some of her fondest memories of her youth had been born. She always believed that's why she was always fascinated with flying, like one of the birds or hawks that flew out across the lake in the early morning. What she'd give to get that feeling just once in her life, away from school and away from the constant need to make as much money as she could to help with the family. The words "It's Your Fight Too" scrawled across the paper in early April had caught her eye within a second and left her running home just that night to break the news that she was signing up. And almost a week later, she found herself packed on a train towards Camp Toccoa, Georgia, bright eyes and the last bit of innocence fading from sight.

Security Personnel

Sergeant (NCO) Alexandra Calypso - @iilovemusic12us

A Boston girl who grew up with her proud Jewish faith, with a Greek mother, knew hard work and sometimes it was pushing yourself to the very limit beyond what the human body could handle sometimes. So that meant falling, scrapping your knee a few times, sucking up the tears, sending a quick prayer to God and moving on with your life. Life had always been like that - they weren’t the richest, nor the poorest, but there wasn’t ever enough food on the table or enough money to fix the roof, or even to keep the mortgage paid. But her parents never stopped working. And she supposed what drove her to the Airborne and to the Pathfinders was seeing how hard they worked. And they paid well she had heard. She could work with it. And if anything, the Pathfinders were more accepting than any school in Boston she’d been to.

Sergeant Nellie Shaw - @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant

Hailing from a small, coastal town in Maine, the proud Scot wanted more than anything to stay out of war when it finally came knocking on America’s doorstep. But Nellie Shaw, loyal as saint, knew that there was one thing she could do for this country and that was fight. Give her a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of gin, and she’d go in swinging for the war effort, even with her grumpy morning attitude that slowly became infamous in her elementary school days among the school children. She had no purpose on a farm on a mountain side anymore, rather destined to do what part of the fight she could. Taking Greer Riddell under her wing, the fellow Scot befriended the least likely person to enjoy her company and yet Nellie’s easy-going companionship slowly became integral to the entirety of Easy Company and the Nightingales.

Private Greer Riddell - @leighinthesky

Schruz, Nevada was home for 21 years and by the looks of it, home for the rest of her life. A bee farm in a tiny town wasn’t idle for the rest of her life, but if she never got the money for college to get out of the small town, she feared she wouldn’t ever leave. And knowing the military had offered 16 women a stick of a plane to get their shot at becoming Pathfinders for the Army was her ticket straight to Toccoa, Georgia for training. The pay could send her not only to college, but could get her out of that tiny town which had confined her to nothing but her family and a cute little bee farm where hard work always paid off. Don’t be fooled by her subdue and withdrawn nature, the second her hands touched the rifle - the field was hers and yet so was the valley.

Codebreaker [Betchley Park Member]

Sergeant Laverne Robinson - @vintagelavenderskies

For her 23 years of life, Laverne Robinson had known just about every spot in London where you could catch a smoke break and not get caught by one of the older women and get scolded for doing so. She blamed her older brother, he blamed her. It was a mutual thing. But that had been the only thing to fear in London - until war struck, which sent every eligible man off to fight for the effort. Her brother included, leaving her staring out the rain speckled window all alone as the smell of her mother's soup wafted past her nose. Yet, like many women of the time, she wanted to fight too. Fluent in French and German and skilled in mathematics and code-work, Bletchley Park seemed the best fit. Working on codes, both sculpting and breaking them inside the building, keeping her lips shut and going on about her normal day when not inside the institution, life didn't seem as dreary as she had anticipated. Because she knew she was apart of the effort to end this war. That was until, she was called upon in late March 1944 to join up with the 101st Airborne with the first female stick of 12 pathfinders to make the jump into Normandy and assist them in anyway possible. Laverne knew it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and if her brother were there, he would've told her to run with it. Becoming a professor of mathematics would have to wait.

REPLACEMENTS

Corporal Alessandra Lisi - @tvserie-s-world

Alessandra Lisi had never known her parents. She was always told that sickness had taken them when she was just a child. Her brothers had been older than her and had tried to protect her from the sight of her parents dying. And so when their Nonna had taken them into her home without hesitation, Alessandra grew to look to her Nonna as the other parental figure she’d ever had. Of course, her brothers were always there for her, protective as they were, they never let her get into any sort of trouble without hearing about it first. Alessandra grew to adore her Italian heritage, cooking with Nonna on Sunday’s, inviting family over to enjoy the meals and even getting to stir the sauce as Nonna dropped in fresh, cut tomatoes. That was life and it had always been life as such. But when war sent her 3 brothers away, she knew she would not go down without a fight either. Upon receiving the paper in November 1943, she noticed the cover page withheld the picture of 12 women, adorned in jump wings as well as military grade goggles and scarves standing with wide smiles and bright eyes in front of a C-47, the title 'The Nightingales', lying just underneath. Female Pathfinders. If her parents were here, they would've been telling her what Nonna would've been telling her now. Fight for what you believe in, because while there's life, there's hope.

Private First Class Bettie Smith - @sgtxliptons86

Brooklyn, New York had it all - the kids in the streets, the shops on the corners where you could get a piece of candy for as little as 5 cents, even the corner stores in the summer where you could get ice cream for a dime. And as Bettie Smith grew older, running the streets of Brooklyn became like a weekend job - checking in on the younger kids of friends, riding bikes past the floral shops and picking up flowers for her sister, getting a bag of charcoal for her father. Even throwing some curses towards the boys who would heckle her for the way she wore her hair or the old shoes laced on her feet. Her older sister wasn’t too pleased with it all, but ever since Ma had passed, she seemed to let it slide - it was an escape for Bettie. So when war came knocking on the Smith’s door, anger, yet pride for their country filled the home, as well as the streets of New York, as more men and women began signing up for the cause. More friends left to join the effort, leaving Bettie there on the concrete doorstep. So when Bettie received the daily paper in November 1943, showcasing the 12 female pathfinders of the 101st Airborne, front and center for all to see, Bettie took it in quite large strides and took the first train of December 1943 to Fort Benning, Georgia.

Private Annie Laine - @wereinadell

Annie Laine, the daughter of Finnish immigrants, had always dreamed of leaving the quiet countryside her parents had always preferred for their family for the big cities of the Midwest - maybe she’d go to Chicago and study theater, or maybe she’d go and finally attend college in Milwaukee. Anything to get out of the small town she currently resided in. But the countryside had brought alone its perks - orienteering and hunting were big in the Laine family and every child, her 3 brothers, her and her sister, had all been taught the noble art. Swimming the streams, fishing in the lakes, taking hikes through the forests and coming back with a deer for dinner - life had always been quite peaceful Annie felt. But she could always hope that one day it changed. And it seemed war rung those bells quite early on. Annie was tired of structured life and if anything, she knew that the start of structured life in the military would fall quite nearly to shambles once they hit war. The November 1943 issue of the daily newspaper brought upon not only sudden interest in the military, but in that of the female pathfinders who were paving their way in all of military history to be the first stick to jump into continental occupied-Europe. All it took was what cash she had saved for college and a small suitcase to get her on the way to Fort Benning, Georgia.

Private Marla Hughes - @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant

Lafayette, Louisiana had been home all her life - Baton Rouge just to the East and New Orleans just a little further. It had always been home for as long as she could remember. With the fancy parties her father always allotted for the family to attend, talking with the men in pristine suits, or the women with the big hats, some days Marla Hughes just wished to be able to go outside and enjoy nature instead of suffocating amongst the people who seemed to live in a world that didn’t even seem like real life. She supposed that was when she had hit her breaking point and joined the Airborne in Fort Benning, Georgia. She was tired of the life that did absolutely nothing for her. There was more to this world, so much more and yet she was confined to a party dress and an expensive glass of wine that tasted bitter when it rushed down the throat. There were small bars, where the music played, and you could dance until your feet grew tired, there were beer bottles awaiting to be clinked together with friends and there were people beside the stuck-up society she was forced into. The Airborne accepted anyone far and wide - and maybe she could strip of the posh life given to her and finally be set free.

THESE ARE THE NIGHTINGALES!!!

> if you have any questions, feel free to send them in! if not, it’s all good! these are our 16 nightingales! :) thank you to all of you who sent them in back in early December! It’s been an honor to craft these wonderful OC’s!

#band of brothers #fortune favors the brave #the nightingales #pathfinders #easy company #bob fic #band of brothers fandom #band of brothers oc #master list post

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lambourngb · 3 years

Note

“It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower”

First line tag

A million years ago, an anon sent me this ask for the first line meme. I woke up possessed and wrote “stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery” in 10 days. This story is complete, 23,000 words. I put the first two chapters up on AO3 early in honor of the news of our show coming back. The rest goes up tomorrow.

beta thanks to the wonderful @tasyfa

Pairing: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Alex Manes/Forrest Long, Michael Guerin/Maria Deluca (past) Kyle Valenti/Maria Deluca (implied/mentioned)

Tags: Starts Forlex ends in Malex, Getting back together, Nebulous Season 3, Angst, Pining, Alien Soulmate Bullshit, Emotional Infidelity, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comforot, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk , Telepathy, Handprint Sex

Summary: A year after Crashcon, Michael knows three things for certain.

1. He loves Alex and he probably definitely always will.

2. Having Alex as his best friend makes everything in his life better.

3. Knowing, thanks to his bullshit alien biology, that Alex still fantasizes about his body regularly while dating someone else for a year, well, that is a little more difficult to navigate.

It’s fine. It is all just fine.

Author Notes: This content is probably not appropriate for review by a college writing class on tumblr, just saying but you’re welcome to leave a kudo if you like it.

*****

It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower for Michael.

His first Sunday off in over three months deserved a little self-care, he had decided. The summer had brought an abrupt uptick in work at the garage with increased summertime driving leading to more careless accidents and stranded motorists to tow to safety. While Walt would deny it to the end, Michael couldn’t help but notice the old man had slowed down in his work. Between doing his best to keep Sanders’ in business and taking shifts at the Crashdown to fill in for the still-absent Liz so Arturo and Rosa could have their own break, taking the time for more than a perfunctory late night wash down felt luxurious to Michael.

There was a point to staying busy, with filling every hour inside an engine or on a different project around the junkyard with his trailer and that point was distraction. Distraction from the awareness that everyone was thriving. Max and his new-found ‘cousin’ Jones were reconstructing the history of their people’s language and literature together. Isobel had recently celebrated her three-month anniversary with Monica, an artist who shared the same studio space as Rosa. Maria had made exploring her alien-rooted abilities the focus of her life outside of the bar, combining her knowledge of yoga and meditation to crack the ability of moving forward in time. With that success, she had managed to bring back the answer to saving her brain from damage from the future. Her work with Kyle in developing the treatment for her and Mimi had led a new romance there. Then there was Alex, the true focus of Michael’s need for distraction, marking a one-year anniversary with Forrest.

It was fine. All Michael had ever wanted was for Alex to be happy. The distractions he had filled his life with helped soothe the edges of knowing who was at the root of Alex’s new-found peace.

In the last year, Michael had built a permanent wooden deck out in front of his Airstream, transforming his fire pit into an outdoor brick barbecue oven, before moving on to recycle discarded auto glass into window panes for a small greenhouse complete with a rainwater cistern off the rear of the trailer. The actual interior boasted its own changes, an expanded shower stall and more of a kitchen set up than a hotplate and kettle with a small split-level stove and expanded countertop. The next task was building a canopy to shield the deck from the elements. At some point, Michael had acknowledged to himself that each piece he had worked on had turned his portable, transient can-go-anywhere Airstream into a stable fixture at Sanders’.

A home with roots.

A home without Alex and he had accepted that, respecting Alex’s choice of partner. They were the right people for each other, but were always meeting at the wrong time. For a while, he had waited patiently for things to end with Forrest. He had been happy enough to work on being Alex’s friend in the meantime. Then, once they were truly friends sharing every stupid moment of their days via a text message or over a beer at his trailer, he had felt the betrayal of his selfish thoughts keenly. What kind of friend would root for a break-up? What kind of friend would wish heartbreak on the other?

The asshole kind, he had concluded.

As the hot water from the shower head poured over his head though, the acceptance he had about Alex moving on was just a little farther from his reach because Alex was currently thinking about him. They weren’t platonic friend-thoughts either.

A ghost sensation of a hand skirted down Michael’s body, lingering over his chest hair, and fuck, Alex had really loved to card his fingers through it. His mind was awash with impulses not his own, hot anticipation and the thrill of pleasure dropped down his body like the free-falling crest of a rollercoaster. Michael closed his eyes, soaking in the feelings. A gasp escaped his mouth, heard by no one in his trailer. Good God, Alex was really ready, waking with morning wood or to someone — Wrapping his own hand around his hardening cock, Michael stroked himself in time with Alex’s thoughts, pushing aside his own. It was best to just give into temptation and enjoy the moment.

It was something he had learned to embrace with varying degrees of eagerness over the last few years.

The connection with Alex had formed apparently sometime after the shed, but it had taken him over ten years and Alex moving back to Roswell to realize what was going on between them. The summer they had turned eighteen, they had barely been able to keep their hands off each other in the desert, and when Michael was alone, all he could think about back then, was Alex. His head had been a complex swirl of emotion, slingshotting him from the highs of seeing Alex to the lows of facing his own aborted future. There was the longing for Alex, the sadness that he knew their time was limited because Alex was going to go places, and he was stuck in Roswell watching over Isobel, but in the background, of what he thought was a relic from Jesse’s attack, was always a sense of sick fear, of being caught. Again.

Then over the last ten years, Michael would experience this awareness, and suddenly all he could think about was Alex. How it felt to touch him, the wickedness of his mouth, the burn and the stretch to accept Alex’s cock as he took him inside with a bitten lip- Michael thought it was just his mind, giving him a touchstone to happiness and the remembrance of being loved briefly by Alex. Nostalgia. Afterwards as he caught his breath, with his chest splattered with come, the sadness would seep in again, stealing whatever light that was made by those memories.

It wasn’t until after the drive-in, when Alex had spent almost two months avoiding him in person, that Michael had realized that those moments, late at night or early in the morning, were tied to Alex. It took falling into his bed one night, after visiting Isobel in her pod to finally piece it together. His face had hurt from crying on the drive home and the urge to sleep and never wake up again had been so incredibly strong that it took a moment for him to realize he was thinking about Alex. His cock hadn’t even been on his radar, but suddenly all he could think about was getting sucked off.

Fuck, he hadn’t wanted it then, too sad and scared about Isobel to feel much connection to his body for the purposes of pleasure, but the sensations and feelings that had overtaken Michael were too intense to fight that night. Later as he panted, open-mouthed and staring at the ceiling of his Airstream with distant thoughts of cleaning up, his phone rang once. Only the once. Then a ding of a text.

Alex -is home: Sorry pocket dialed.

The rush of self-loathing that hit Michael as he read the message had been so strong he had dropped the phone on the floor of the trailer. That’s when he knew it wasn’t his feelings in his head because in all the years of knowing Alex, of loving Alex, he had never once felt disgust toward himself for his feelings for Alex. From the moment across a borrowed guitar, Michael had accepted the tilt of his axis toward Alex Manes as a fundamental fact, like force equalling mass times acceleration.

Alex hadn’t shared that comfort, and the more Michael tuned into what was going on in Alex’s head, the more his heart broke. Two things became clear to Michael over time; the occurrences were sporadic enough for him to know that he only felt them when Alex was specifically thinking about Michael when he jerked off, and the post-orgasm feelings of disgust and self-loathing were not isolated incidents for Alex to feel afterwards.

“Sometimes things end in a whimper, Guerin-” and Michael had numbly accepted that as proof that while Alex might enjoy thinking about his body, about the ways he had pleasured Alex in the past, Alex had no desire for anything more from Michael. The sex was epic, fodder for a late night fantasy, but Michael himself? He was not someone that Alex wanted to want.

He had changed Alex’s name in his phone from “Alex -is home” to “Alex -is a bad idea” after that and then cursed himself for the trick of alien biology, doomed to be forever aware that he was an example of backsliding to Alex. When Maria had reached for him that night in Texas, he had welcomed her because she seemed at least self-aware of the fact she didn’t want to want him. There was zero chance of a misunderstanding between them that night, even as he kicked himself for still following after people who swore to him that it would never happen again.

For a long time after Caulfield, he had thought perhaps the grief of losing his mother had broken the link with Alex, setting them both free in the wreckage and dust of the prison. The dying psychic screams of his people had rolled over him, scorching his thoughts into cinders as that last connection to love and hope burned out in his mind, his mother’s life extinguishing under the thunder of Semtex and C-4. Then one night shortly after moving his trailer to the Wild Pony, it had happened again. The same overwhelming feeling of need, of longing, but this time the self-loathing afterwards had been accompanied by a crippling feeling of guilt. He had laid there in the twilight of the Wild Pony’s loft, having silently come into his palm while the sound of Maria’s breathing brushed against his ear. For the first time, he had joined Alex in that feeling of self-hatred.

It was past the time for him to flip the switch from ‘tortured lust’ to some semblance of friendship with Alex, if he could and so tentatively, he agreed to work on uncovering his mother’s past together with him. He updated his phone again with that decision in mind to “Alex -sup bro”.

After Maria had learned the truth about Rosa and sent him away with betrayed eyes, he experienced a moment of weakness for Alex after the visit they had made to the Long Farm. There had been a lightness in how Alex had moved that day, his steps had been considered but committed as they had explored the last place his mother had felt at home on earth. Inside of Michael’s heart, he had been able to feel the pieces moving together while he had stood in a place where Nora had had a family, next to a man who had always represented that promise to Michael. The openness of Alex’s smile as they had waited for Forrest Long to reappear had had Michael thinking dangerous thoughts again about a future with him.

What if. What if Alex were ready to take a step toward him without the weight of the past?

That tenuous hope had lasted until the night after Alex had given him the piece of the ship’s console. Standing in his bunker near two am, he had been examining the new piece of his ship, of his past, puzzling over why it wasn’t bonding with the rest of the console when he had felt the awareness of Alex creep into his cells, into his DNA. Eagerly he had opened his jeans with both hands and had fisted his cock, letting himself go with the pull of Alex’s desire. In the aftermath, he had found himself on the floor of the bunker, with come dripping off a fallen drawing of a ship’s engine, but near tears with the knowledge that nothing had changed for Alex. It had still been the same fear flooding his veins, still the same anchor of tortured longing and deep shame weighing his limbs down even as he had been left wrecked by how good his body had felt.

It had been madness for Michael the next few months as he had fallen in deeper with Maria, while the connection with Alex had kept tugging at his soul. There had been little rhyme or reason to when it had happened. Weeks would pass where he apparently hadn’t crossed Alex’s mind once, and then there had been a week when every night Michael had been hit with the same mix of love, lust and bottomless need. Thankfully it had matched with the week-long retreat Maria and Mimi had taken together, saving Michael the work of explaining to her why he was wearing out the washing machines at the Fluff N Fold with his dirty sheets.

The self-torment Alex had felt about him had slowly lifted, to the point when Michael had found out the truth about Walt Sanders, he had called Alex without hesitation. The contact in his phone had changed to ‘Alex- best bro’. If he had finally become a measure of comfort for Alex to remember in his most personal moments, then perhaps Alex could also become a comfort to him, without the mire of their trauma holding them frozen in place.

He had been fooling himself completely in the aftermath of Alex’s abduction that friendship would ever be enough for him. The wounds from his breakup with Maria had still been bleeding below his skin when he had stepped into the Wild Pony to hear Alex singing about him. About them. Then he had been hit with the connection, blossoming open for the first time ever in Alex’s actual presence under the spell of his song.

There had still been a ghost of darkness in Alex’s feelings for him, as he had sung about fighting battles but for the first time in a long time, Michael had felt that there was hope that Alex was finally finding peace with Jesse dead. Despite Isobel’s prodding him to stay and make a move, he had known that it wasn’t their time yet. There had been too much grief and regret swirling in his head, and not just from Alex, but he could be patient for them both for the right moment. The connection had never felt more alive between them that night on the promise of a future.

At least that was what he had thought, until time had kept passing yet here he was, standing in his shower with his hand on his dick a year later, while Alex was across town in someone else’s bed but clearly thinking about him.

Michael watched as his seed dripped down the fiberglass walls, the shower spray sending it down the drain in an eddy of his own frustrated longing. His body was calm, at least, and his mind was buzzing with happiness from Alex. He concentrated on the euphoria floating between them in particular. Alex had soaked up pleasure this morning, pursuing it with a greed that Michael couldn’t help but admire, and then he had let himself go without any hint of shame. God, it felt good to know that Alex had finally found that comfort with himself.

He breathed in and out, counting the seconds down until the connection faded. Once it was over, he gave himself five more minutes under the hot spray, letting whatever was welling in his eyes, slip unseen down his face. He cursed his stupid alien biology in the same breath that he clung to it for giving him Alex again, if only briefly.

After he was dressed for his brunch plans with everyone, he checked his phone before he left, to find a text from Alex. The contact had been updated one more time, six months after the Crashcon, from “Alex -best bro” to “Alex -bf”. Isobel had been way too excited to see that notation, until Michael had patiently explained it had stood for ‘best friend’. Maybe in another universe it was ‘boyfriend’, just not this one.

This wasn’t crumbs, he had argued to her, Alex was still a feast for him in whatever way he could have him. He read the text with his mind still working to box up the feelings that lingered for Alex, “Tell everyone we will be late- overslept”. The ‘we’ was what puzzled Michael the most about the whole situation over the last year. Why was Alex still thinking about Michael the way he did while he was with someone else?

AO3 link for more

#malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #getting back together #season 3 #set a year after the crashcon 2x13 #not forrest long friendly #alien soulmate bullshit #publishing this ask and posting a link is self-indugent but wanted nonnie to see it #Anonymous #alien soulmate shenanigans #cosmic soulmates

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welcome-to-afterlife · 3 years

Text

Wannabe Challenge Kpop AU Headcanons

I know that no one requested this, but I had this idea stuck in my head for a while now. It took quite some time to get down, but I'm finally done!

Role: Leader, Main Vocalist, Center

Taehee was the first member of the group to be recruited by ST Entertainment. He had a charismatic yet soft aura that drew all the girls on audition day. Immediately, the entertainment company knew that Taehee would become part of their label.

However, it took him a good 5 years before the company decided that he was ready for debut. It was within this time that he learned how to avoid the entertainment industry's sleazy business practices, develop a strong image, and maintain constant motivation for debut. You could say he subconsciously preparing to he a leader by trying to himself afloat for 5 years.

Once he finally got to debut, Taehee was chosen to be the leader of the group. Although Hansol seemed like the more obvious choice, Hansol thought that Taehee would be a better fit since Taehee already knew a lot about the entertainment industry due to his experience. Besides, he was the only one who was mature and emotionally-equipped to lead a group.

As for Taehee's abilities, his strongest suit is his singing. While he wasn't the strongest singer at the start of his training, he ended up become one of the best vocalists in the company. His voice has a unique color that radiates smoothness with a hint of attitude. He's able to hit high notes, but he's a lot better at belting -- especially when he's feeling emotional.

Perhaps this is the reason that Taehee excels in elegant concepts. His graceful movements along with his princely facial expressions make him the star on the stage. Think of songs such as "I'm in Trouble" by NU'EST, "Blue Flame" by ASTRO, and "Not By the Moon" by GOT7. It's like he belongs on an icy throne in a golden palace.

Surprise, surprise: he gets the most lines in their songs. Usually it's not by a lot, but sometimes ST gives some of Biho's lines to Taehee (much to the everyone's dismay). He's never comfortable singing those lines and tries to negotiate to give Biho more lines, but it doesn't always work. He gets quite the backlash for it, but unfortunately it's out of his control.

When interacting with fans, Taehee is usually very warm and kind. He's constantly asking about everyone's health and well-being, nagging fans to keep themselves at top priority. He doesn't want fans to ruin their lives because of their love for him and his group. He's also very earnest and mature, almost like a guardian angel to his fans. Wherever they go, his heart is always with them.

In the group, he's basically the dad. He's always looking out for the other members (yes, even Yooha). Just like his fans, his members' well-being is top priority. In lives, you'll probably see him in the background cooking food, cleaning dorms, and or scolding the other members for doing dumb things (that last reason is why he's also very likely to appear in crack videos).

However, he appears most often in "sassy moment compilations" because of his reactions. Taehee has even gone viral because he just straight up rolled his eyes at a variety show when they asked him uncomfortable questions and threw not-so-subtle shade. From then on, he's been dubbed as the "sassy king".

For side projects, his main path is acting. Taehee is a really good actor who played the main male lead in a critically acclaimed K-Drama. He played the sly but sweet love interest in a historical drama. The audience are always amazed at his ability to adapt to the time period so accurately.... it's almost as if he's lived there himself?

Role: Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocalist

Originally, Yooha has started off as a model. However, staff from ST Entertainment saw Yooha and thought that his visuals would be perfect for the kpop business. They offered their business card to him and he decided to try out for fun. Fortunately, he nailed his audition and was admitted as a trainee immediately.

Yooha was the last person to join the company and had the shortest training time (1 year). His sudden arrival and decision to debut with the group created a rift between him and the other members. Taehee thought it was unfair that Yooha could debut with minimal training while Hansol was worried that Yooha's addition would affect the group's dynamic (in areas like line distribution, dance formation, etc).

However, he and the other members were forced to resolve their issues when he became Taehee's roommate at their dorm. Since it was Taehee's job to lead the group (including Yooha), the two had no choice but to bond.

Now before y'all yell at me that Yooha isn't main rapper material, just know that I had to give the position to someone. Secondly, Yooha has an alluring and deep voice voice that was perfect for rap. Also, he is really good at rapping in various beats and experiments with different flows. While he can do fast raps, he prefers to make ones that have a distinct rhythm and leave a lasting impact on the audience.

However, Yooha hadn't planned to debut as the group's rapper. His original role being the main dancer, but he jokingly rapped in an pre-debut interview and everyone fell in love with his voice. From that, ST Entertainment thought it would be best to make Yooha the rapper instead.

In fan interactions, Yooha is very slick and flirty. Whether it's in fanmeet, lives, or concerts, Yooha knows exactly how to steal the hearts of his fans. Just one wink is enough to make the entire stadium swoon over him.

However, he's also the crackhead of the group. If you search for the group's "crackhead moment compilations", 80% of the video will involve Yooha somehow. In fact, it's these moments that really boost his popularity within the group and skyrocket him to the 2nd most popular member in the group.

Sometimes, he manages to pull one over Taehee and becomes the most popular member. How does this happen? Well, whenever the group has a "bad boy"/sexy concept comeback, Yooha absolutely dominates the stage. Think of songs such as "Want" by Taemin, "7th Sense" by NCT U, and "Love Killa" by Monsta X. The sexy concept was made for him, so it's no surprise when everyone in the comments section thirsts over him. It's just enough to put him over the edge against Taehee in fan voting.

He also has the most risque outfits. Yooha has an amazing body and he knows it, so why keep it hidden? His wardrobe is filled with experimental pieces that show of his abs, forearms, and everything in between. It's the reason why he's voted "Best Dressed" on every voting app.

Yooha is also a smooth dancer. His fluidity and confidence amplifies his sex appeal on stage, which often causes fans to confuse him as the group's main dancer. He's also has killer facial expressions that maintain his striking stage presence, making it impossible to keep your eyes off of him.

When Yooha isn't rocking the stage, you'll probably see him on magazines and commercial shoots. Photographers just can't get enough of his visuals, so they constantly bring him back for more modeling. He'll even dabble his feet in web dramas, but it doesn't last for long due to the scheduling conflicts between the web dramas and his music career.

Position: Main Dancer, Main Vocalist, Producer, Face of the Group

Hansol started his music journey long before ST Entertainment. He had been creating music as early as elementary school (mainly him bashing wooden sticks on the table and strumming rubber bands). However, he really got to develop his passion on high school-- where he dedicated his time towards music production and music theory.

Thus, Hansol had his own YouTube channel where he created covers of different artists and snippets of songs that he created on his own. From that, he amassed a small following of 25K subscribers. This audience attracted ST Entertainment, who took a liking to his videos and asked him whether he wanted to be a trainee. Hansol gladly took the offer.

Hansol was the 2nd member to join ST and trained for 3 years. Although the company had given him the opportunity to debut immediately, Hansol wanted to wait until he reached his full potential.

While Hansol originally was the leader of the group (since he already had a fairly stable music presence), he had to product all their music. This ate up leadership time, which Hansol was having difficulty in managing. Besides, he thought that Taehee was more mature than him and thought Taehee would do a better job as a leader. Hansol ended up handing the leader role to Taehee before debut.

Hansol's production has been praised by critics, fans, and other producers. His vision for the song helps the group distinguish themselves from the other acts in the entertainment industry and create their own identities as a group. Sometimes he writes songs with Biho (or by himself) to better convey his emotions onto their group's album.

Hansol is the group's ace: he can sing, dance, and even rap. He's equally talented at singing and dancing, so he decided to take main positions for both skills. In his singing, Hansol has a high-pitched voice that makes it easy for him to hit high notes and belt to his heart's content. In fact, many of his lines in the songs are his adlibs (which give the song that extra spice).

Hansol's dancing style is sharp and energetic. There's a lot of power in his movements with playful facial expressions (in contrast to Yooha's powerful, sexy style). This allows him to steal the spotlight when the group has a playful and upbeat comback (think "Energetic" by Wanna One, "Sha La La" by Pentagon, and "BBUSYEO" by ONEUS). His bright grin is enough to light up the entire stadium while keeping fans engaged throughout the performance.

The group's debut turned out pretty successful thanks the Hansol's YouTube fanbase. With his enlarged presence, Hansol is the "Face of the Group"-- the most recognizable member to the general public. While he isn't the most popular within his group's fans, Hansol is the most liked across the general public.

Hansol's personality around fans is very bubbly. He loves playing up his cute, boyish charms to win over the fans (especially when they drool over Yooha). There's a lot of winking, heart signs, pouting, and hugs whenever Hansol interacts with his fans.

Within the group, Hansol is the baby. Although he isn't the youngest, he acts the most immature. He's always nagging the other members and trying to prove his manliness, but it's more like a puppy trying to intimidate a pack of wolves.

For side projects, Hansol would have a solo debut. He'd produce all the music on his album while collaborating with Biho for songwriting. Since it's his solo career, Hansol would have much more creative control-- allowing him to fully explore every corner of his artistry. He plans to continues his solo career long after the group disbands too.

Position: Lead Vocalist, Rapper, Songwriter, Visual, Maknae

Biho was the 3rd member to join ST Entertainment. Out of the 4, he was the only one who submitted a formal audition tape to ST Entertainment and got accepted through the traditional audtion process. What made his audtion special was that he performed his own song-- a love song to his future lover. The judges absolutely loved his vibe and voice, so they couldn't pass this opportunity.

When Biho became a trainee, he always felt insecure about his skills. Even though he was talented, Biho was training with the likes of Taehee and Hansol, who were already experienced and seasoned professionals. Biho thought he'd be holding his group back, but the other members assured him that his presence made a significant impact on the group.

And honestly, it really did because Biho wrote most of their songs. His lyrics were both thought-provoking and poetic. He was never afraid of writing music about the things on his mind (whether it was love, fear, anger, or sadness). However, editing the lyrics took a lot of time as Biho only wanted to make the best content for his fans. Sometimes he lets Hansol write music with him.

Biho's strength lies in his singing (like most of the other members). His voice is soft and breathy, almost like a lullaby wrapping you in a soft blanket. No matter how you're feeling, Biho's voice is guaranteed to calm your nerves and take to your safe place.

Biho is also known for his looks. Although Yooha is the group's top model, Biho's face is the perfect canvas for all types of makeup styles. Although he doesn't realize it, fans love the duality between his soft persona and his darker one. Many are surprised that Biho is able to make the switch for sexier concepts and absolutely die when he does.

However, Biho shines the most with soft boy concepts. It's the image that he's had for the longest and is most comfortable with. Besides, the more thoughtful and heartfelt songs are where his lyrics get to shine through-- making him extra happy. For reference, the best examples of soft boy songs that suits Biho would be "Spring Day" by BTS, "Don't Wanna Cry" by SEVENTEEN, "Blue Hour" by TXT.

In fan interactions, Biho is extremely warm and a tad bit shy. He's always blushing when fans compliment him and showers his fans with a bunch of love in return. He likes to take his fans' hands and sincerely thank them for their support because his group would be nothing without them.

In fact, Biho is the most likely to get emotional while performing. The fact that there are so many people who are willing to listen to his music and his message is something that he could barely dream of. He will be forever indebted to their kindness, which is why he tries go provide his fans with all a lot of content (lives, Q+As, pop-up fansigns).

In the group, Biho isn't much different. In fact, he's the member whose idol persona matches his real personality the most. He's always cheering hisnother members from the side and gushing about how amazing they are. Sometimes he likes to throw an occasional jab at Yooha though (especially when Yooha is feeling himself too much).

For side projects, Biho is working on a book! He already has a collect of poems that was published, which has recieved high praise from critics and other poets. He also spends time writing songs for other groups, especially ones that come from small, poor companies.

#wannabe challenge #kim taehee #yoo hansol #kang biho #wannabe challenge yooha #yooha #wannabe challenge headcanons

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