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solarwonux · 3 years

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89. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.”

93. “Fuck…did we use protection?”

twitch streamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.9k (honestly I think I forgot what drabbles were clearly lol)

warnings: some angst, smut, mutual masturbation, some slight panty stuffing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pregnancy scare, talks about plan b

note: excuse me everyone I literally love gamer and twitch streamer Wonwoo, but not everyone does. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one if you want more twitch!streamer wonwoo let me I will be happy to oblige, I have MANY ideas. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts.

p.s send me a prompt for either svt or bts or both. I will also happily oblige to that lol

Masterlist || Drabble game

Watching Wonwoo play Zelda was not what you had expected when he had texted earlier asking you to come over. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.” He whispered against your lips in a half kiss when you walked in through his front door.

That had been over an hour and three completed levels ago. It was an empty promise long forgotten as he kept himself immersed in the game, talking enthusiastically about his day and random things his brain would conjure up on the spot. It was like you didn’t exist, and for the most part to his viewers, you didn’t. It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or anything. Even if you were, you valued your privacy more than anything in the world. You preferred to work on your own things in the background away from his camera whenever you were over. This was something the two of you had mutually agreed to.

Casual hangs and casual sex.

Lately, your relationship had become the product of most of your stress. You never knew where you stood with Wonwoo. Sometimes he would literally invite you over to keep him company while he streamed only to kick you out the second he finished. “I’m too tired, you should go.” He would say pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’ll see you later.”

Of course, those moments were overshadowed by the soft touches he left imprinted on your skin. By the sweetness of the words he shared with you and only you whenever he wasn’t working. It made you want more. More of him, more of his attention, and more of whatever was going on between the two of you. But that was something you refused to bring up afraid that the only one harboring feelings for the other was you.

Heartbreak was not in your plans for life, at least not for a while.

You sighed, throwing your phone down onto the couch. Your patience was wearing thin. Maybe it had to do with the fact you were already having a bad day, and Wonwoo’s indifference towards you wasn’t helping. When you had gotten his text earlier, you couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in a few days with work schedules being all over the place and not aligning. It was something to look forward to, not necessarily because of the sex--which was always amazing. But you really just wanted to talk to him. Lay down with his arms wrapped around you while you complained about work and how frustrating your coworkers were being.

By the looks of it, you weren’t going to get any of that, not even what he had promised when you had first walked in. You were tired, your clothes were starting to annoy and you wanted to cry. If it wasn’t for the fact that his front door was in line with his camera, you would’ve left already.

Wonwoo could sense something was wrong with you. Every time you sighed it felt like you were punching him in the gut. He really meant what he had said when you walked in earlier. He also meant the quiet I love you he mumbled underneath his breath when you walked past him and into the living room. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with you, just that months ago he had woken up and you were the only thing he could think of. Every time he held you in his arms the three little words bubbled up in the back of his throat, wishing he could bring himself to finally say it, but his fear held him back. Afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.

“Alright, you know what I think that’s enough for tonight.” Wonwoo smiled into the camera, trying to keep up with the chat as they begged him not to go yet. “I have to go, my girlfriend is over and I want to spend time with her. Anyway, same time next week Monday guys.” Wonwoo nodded, stopping the stream. Once he was positive that he had turned everything off he felt his shoulders relax and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again, the panic surging through his veins was unbearable. He turned around in his chair meeting your equally shocked face.

He royally fucked up. He just confessed to his audience without meaning to confess. He had told his audience that you were his girlfriend and he hadn’t even asked you yet. The surprise and speech he had worked on all week, the reason he took a break from streaming until tonight, was for nothing. He had gotten ahead of himself and he didn’t know what to do now. Or how to fix it.

“G-Girlfriend? Wait you have a fucking girlfriend?” You stood up from his couch, blinded by anger. “What the fuck Wonwoo, when were you going to tell me? Before or after you fucked me?” You shouted, your heart was beating fast as you turned around to gather up your stuff.

Unbelievable. Here you were distracted, thinking about how cute he looked while he blamed his failure on his character. The pout that had formed on his lips as he pushed his glasses up his nose and blew out a raspberry, moving aside the strands of his newly dyed blonde hair. The frustration you had felt earlier, forgotten, replaced with admiration. Only for it to come back after what he had said, this time fiery red and ready to burn everything it touched.

“Stop, no wait, I don’t have a girlfriend. At least not yet.” He spoke fast, his words blending with one another as he quickly made his way to you. He grabbed hold of your laptop and held it against his chest.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, did you just call me down to ignore me and then fuck me one last time before you called it quits!” You said in disbelief reaching over for your laptop.

Wonwoo turned around facing away from you. “No that’s not...that’s not what...fuck, calm down please and just let me talk.” He pleaded as he sat down on his couch, your laptop still clutched tightly in his arms. It was your prized possession, it held the first three drafts of the novel you were working on. He knew you well enough to know that you hadn’t backed anything up no matter how many times he told you to do so. So, he was positive that as long as he held onto it like his life depended on it (because it did) you wouldn’t leave without it.

You crossed your arms in front of you ”I am calm, but I don’t know if I want to listen to what you have to say.”

Wonwoo cringed, he was more nervous than what he had intended to be. He had an entire speech planned. Wrote it down, even got Jihoon to proofread it. He had performed it in front of his bathroom mirror every morning and night. He thought he had it in the bag, pumped up his chest a few times before opening his front door to you earlier. Yet, the second he saw you, he forgot everything he had planned to say. This is mainly why he had spent such a long time streaming. Hoping that the distraction would somehow help him remember.

It didn’t.

“Wonwoo, I swear if you don’t start talking in the next five seconds I’m leaving and suing you for holding my laptop hostage.”

Wonwoo sighed and slapped his forehead lightly before turning to look at you, “okay, I don’t think that’s allowed bu-”

“It is if I say that you stole it trying to steal my work, I don’t know I’ll find a way.” You shrugged, earning a glare from Wonwoo. You knew he hated whenever someone interrupted him while he was in the middle of saying something. It was something you would do to him out of spite, but in your humble opinion this time he really did deserve it. Though, it didn’t make you feel as good as you had hoped, “fine sorry, you can continue.” You sighed and sat down on his coffee table.

Wonwoo put your laptop down and leaned over his elbows taking your hands in his. “I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I know we agreed to just keep this casual but I can’t help the way my heart literally feels like it’s going to fall out of my ass whenever I’m with you. So yeah, I don’t have a girlfriend yet, because I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend yet. But there’s no one else, only you, and I’m so-”

Wonwoo was cut off when he felt your body land on his, knocking the air out of his lungs. You hugged him, straddling his hips and burying your face into his chest, giggling. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you felt awful for assuming the worst and jumping to conclusions.

“Ask me ask me ask me ask me.” You bounced on his lap like a child. He groaned doubling over in pain.

He placed his hands on your hips to keep you from moving, “No now I know you’re actually trying to kill me.” He smirked and left a sweet kiss against your lips. A low chuckle running past his lips as he took in your pouting face, “fine, my love, my baby will you please be my girlfriend?” He cocked his head, his hands playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Yes, but only if you give me my laptop back and keep the promise you made me earlier.” You smiled innocently, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Wonwoo smirked, his hands made their way underneath your shirt. “No to the laptop, you work too much and I’m determined to back up everything on a hard drive later.” He rubbed his thumbs over the skin of your hips, slowly inching closer to the button of your jeans, “not sure I remember the promise I made earlier though, can you remind me?”

You kissed him slowly, tugging on his shirt, “you said you would finish a level before going down on me all night, and it’s four and a half levels later and I’m still waiting.” You whispered against his lips, before pulling away and bringing his shirt over his head, taking it off, throwing it behind him, aiming for the laundry basket, missing it completely, making you sigh.

“Well you didn’t give me enough time to answer, but that can be arranged.” He pecked your lips, pushing your shirt up and over your head, throwing it behind him. “You’d have to step into my office though.”

“Wonwoo, baby, don’t ever call your room your office.” You rolled your eyes and got up from his lap.

He chuckled, shaking his head and stood up, “oh no that’s not what I meant, room comes later. Tonight we start in my office.” He says cheekily, pointing his thumb towards his gaming setup. Your eyes grew wide as saucers, only making him laugh harder while he pushed you towards his gaming chair.

“Wait, you’re like not going to turn the camera on are you?” You said as he pushed you down to sit in which you obeyed. The colorful lights from his gaming setup kept you distracted as Wonwoo got down on his knees in front of you.

“Nope, I’ve just always wanted to eat you out while you sat on my gaming chair. But maybe one day in the future if you want. You can take over my stream and play animal crossing while I secretly eat you out on camera.” He smirked, the evil glint behind his soft eyes sent shivers down your spine. The little exibitionist in him coming out. You’d be lying if you didn’t find the thought of it exciting.

“One day.” You breathed, lifting your hips, helping him as he pulled down your pants.

Wonwoo sent you a wink pushing your thighs apart with his hands, “We can also play overwatch together. That cute little vibrator you keep hidden in your bedside drawer, stuffed inside your pussy.” He placed his index finger over the wet patch that had formed over your panties, pushing in slightly. “And everytime you die I up the speed, see how long you can last before you have me begging to turn off the stream so you can cum.” Wonwoo kept pushing his finger in you, your panties sticking onto you like second skin.

You threw your head back, digging your nails into the arms of his leather chair. “F-Fuck how long h-have you thought about this?” You lifted your hips as he added another finger.

“Right now, or maybe a few times when you’re not around.” He leaned down kissing your mound lightly, “but seeing you like this, sprawled out, wet and waiting for my mouth is reinforcing those fantasies.” He worked his fingers diligently, pushing the thin material of your panties inside of you. He couldn’t wait to stuff you full with his cock later.

You let out a whimper as his mouth traveled down to your clothed entrance. He removed his fingers licking up a stride, before taking one of your lips into his mouth and biting down on it gently. “W-Wonwoo please I want to feel your mouth.”

“You are, aren’t you?.” He looked, staring at you through the rim of his round glasses before repeating his actions again making you whimper. “Take your bra off, play with yourself for me.” He left a chaste kiss in your inner thigh and sat back on his heels. He palmed himself over his black tracksuit pants as he watched you slowly unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms. You were teasing him, he knew this but he didn’t care. Seeing you get undressed for him was one of his favorite past times, especially because you always went extra slow for him.

You threw your bra, not caring where it landed. You rolled your palms over your nipples, soft sighs running past your lips as you kept your eyes trained on Wonwoo. “Want to feel your hot tongue fucking me Woo.” You spread your legs even further pinching your nipples. You moved your hand down your body, your index finger playing with the seam of your panties. “Is this one of your fantasies? Me touching myself, sitting here?” You said, tilting your head to the side, moving your hand into your panties and running your index and middle fingers over your clit slowly.

“Yes.” He hissed, pushing his hand into his boxers grabbing onto his cock. “God, you make me so hard.”

“Let me see please.” You arched your back, your fingers getting faster. Wonwoo nodded, wasting no time to free himself, his hand wrapped tightly around his length. His index finger connects with the small bead of precum that had formed, showing you how sticky and ready he was for you.

“Want to taste?” You nodded letting out soft moans as you lifted your hips, into the palm of your hand, sticking your tongue out for him. “Fuck.” He cursed getting up on his knees, bringing his index finger up to your mouth. You closed your lips around it, swirling your tongue over the tip, savoring the salty substance.

You pulled away with a pop, taking your fingers out of your panties and bringing them up to his lips. He took them in, moaning around them. “Do I taste good?” You said taking out your fingers from his mouth, moving them over his lips, wetting them further.

“I’m going to have to take a closer look.” He said lowly, pushing your panties down in a haste. He spread your legs, licking up your slit, teasing your hole with his tongue. Being in between your legs was his second most favorite pastime. He savored every moment of it. Sometimes he would prolong your orgasm, keeping you on edge, so that when you came, your sweet substance would coat his lips, spilling down his chin and neck. It was the most beautiful site, one that only he had the privilege in witnessing.

“Mmm, your tongue feels so good Wonwoo.” You pinched your nipple while tugging on the roots of his blonde hair, pushing his mouth closer.

He moaned, slurping up your juices like you were his last meal. He wrapped his mouth around your clit, pulling it between his teeth before letting it go. “I want to be here forever but I don’t think I can last any longer without being inside of you.” He pushed two of his fingers inside of you. The feeling of your wet walls wrapped around his thick calloused fingers made his cock twitch.

“B-But I-I want to cum.” You pouted, arching your back away from his chair, pushing your hips further into his hand. “Please, I’m so close already.” You pant, the knot in the pit of your stomach threatening to break.

“Oh honey, you will. I’ll have you coming undone more than three times tonight.” He stated with determination and brought his mouth down again, closing his lips around your clit. He sucked harshly moaning sinfully. He fucked you faster with his fingers curling them upwards, reaching the soft mushy skin inside of you.

“W-Wonwoo f-fuck don’t stop I-I’m so close.”

Wonwoo let go of your swollen bud, slowing down his fingers as you clenched around them. “Look at me, I want to watch me while you cum.” You agreed with a pleasure filled sigh, watching as he pushed back his glasses. The sight almost had you coming undone.

He put his mouth on you again, increasing the pace of his fingers. Babbles coming out of your mouth as you pulled on his hair, motivating him to go faster. The squelching sounds coming from your wet, hot pussy sounded like music to his ears. He bit down on your clit lightly, sending you over the edge, your cum coating his fingers, while you moaned his name in a sweet sinful prayer. His eyes burning holes into yours, the sight was award winning, his cock begging to be milked out.

Wonwoo continued, riding out your orgasm. Until you felt the oversensitivity overcome your body “W-Woo, s-stop please.” You pushed his head carefully with the palm of your hand.

He kissed the inside of both of your thighs before sitting up on his knees, taking your face into his hands. “You always look so pretty when you cum.” He pecked your lips repeatedly, before wrapping your arms around you hugging you tightly. “I love you so much.” He kissed your temple.

“Why do you always get so mushy every time you make me cum?” You laughed gently, running your fingers down his back, making him shiver.

“You bring out in me, I can’t help it, stop complaining. I’m giving you time to recover before I bend you over my desk.”

“Not complaining. I love it.” You kissed his cheek. “And I love you.” You whispered in his ear, taking his earlobe, pulling it between your teeth.. He groaned, swallowing hard, his getting tighter around you.

“My desk, then my couch, then my bed, then the shower, and then my bed again.”

The sun had started to rise. It was five in the morning and your body was suddenly overcome with sleep, when Wonwoo pulled out of you one last time. He had kept true to his promise, literally fucked you the entire night, christening his apartment, except his kitchen. “If we have sex in the kitchen, the only thing I’ll be thinking about while I’m cooking is your mouth around my dick.” He said as he pushed you into the wide window of his living room, making you laugh.

“Do you have to work today?” He placed a delicate kiss against your collar bone, laying his head on top of your chest.

“It’s Saturday, why would I have work on Saturday?” You smiled sleepily, running your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily, pulling his sheets over the two of you and cuddling into you further.

“You’re always working, I just wanted to ask.” He shrugged, raising his body enough to leave a chaste kiss against your lips. “Take a break today and I promise that by the time you wake up again I’ll have all of your files backed up into the harddrive I bought you.”

You shook your head, placing both of your palms against his cheeks, squishing them. “Do you know how sexy you sound when you talk about computers.”

“Nope, but you once told me to divide you in half when I was explaining finances to you. Now that I think about it, that statement can go both ways.” He smiled laying down on his back, bringing you along with him. Your eyes growing wide when you felt it running down your thighs. You sat up in panic, removing the sheets of your body to see if your silent hypothesis was correct.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused.

“Wonwoo, fuck...did we use protection?”

Wonwoo pushed the covers away with his feet, sitting up quickly. He looked between your legs, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “You’re on the pill still right?”

“We changed my formula, I had to stop taking it for a few days.” You threw yourself down on his bed covering your eyes with your hands. The tears pooling against your eyes. You felt the bed dip next to you. Wonwoo took your hands in his, revealing your tearful eyes to him making him sigh.

“Baby, don’t worry.” He kissed your cheeks repeatedly before sitting up again, “I’ll run down to the convenience store, get a plan b while you go take a bath. I’ll join you when I get back.”

“W-What’s happens if I take the plan b and still miraculously end up pregnant, it’s only ninety five percent effective.”

“Then I’ll be with you every step of the way. I meant what I said earlier, I love you so much and I plan to marry you and have kids with you one day. Don’t worry.”

Your heart felt full. The butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo and you had shared many intimate dreams and desires before, but this one felt different. This was a dream the two of you shared and it made you feel at ease. “Okay, okay I will, just hurry up please.”

Wonwoo scoffed, getting up from his bed, slipping on his sweatpants and sweatshirt. “Baby please don’t underestimate me. I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned down giving you one last kiss before jogging over to his front door. “I love you.” He shouted, opening the door.

You laughed sitting up on your elbows shaking your head, “I love you, now hurry I can feel your child cooking in me.”

“Impossible, it takes roughly twenty four hours for my sperm to fertilize one of your eggs, and it’s literally been thirty minutes. Therefore you wou--”

“Wonwoo shut up just hurry.”

“Okay I love you.” He said while closing his front door. You laughed shaking your head falling back on his bed. Your entire body was aching and though you were a little scared, given obvious circumstances. You had never felt so much warmth and happiness in your life.

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un2-verse · 3 years

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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

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Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

382 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends.

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu.

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite.

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring.

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop.

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears.

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don’t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath.

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand.

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.”

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim. The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered.

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao.

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him.

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him.

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle.

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window.

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips.

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth.

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow. It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless.

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.”

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful.

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep.

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent.

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray.

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt.

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade.

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage.

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out.

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day.

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple.

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon’s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters.

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently. Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!”

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine.

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist.

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek.

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?”

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #mingyu au #mingyu x reader #svt scenarios #svt angst #svt smut

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bugmomwrites · 4 years

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Animal Crossed Lovers (Tamaki Amajiki)

Alrighty so I haven't put any finished work on here in a hot minute, that’s my bad. ANYWHO my mom got me ACNH as an early birthday gift since my birthday (April 5th) just missed the supposed quarantine cutoff date for our area (7th). I may be be stuck inside while everything’s closed, but hey- at least the island of Escapism hardly rests 😉

(SW-3129-0651-5422)

Tamaki Amajiki x GN! Reader

Tamaki was never one to play video games, but he had to admit there was just something...soothing about Animal Crossing that melted much of his anxiety away. Nejire had initially preordered a copy for his birthday weeks ago, but her friend who worked at the local (s/n) (who he may or may not have been crushing on since their second year after they joined them at lunch one day) was able to pull a couple strings and get it on the fourth of March instead of the twentieth. Of course he had no idea, but he was so stunned when he opened it that it didn’t even occur to him that the game wasn’t even out yet until Mirio had reminded him. He didn’t question it though- his friend group was one wild card after another, so he guessed he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

He was thrilled, and just the fact that no one else had a copy yet made it feel all the more personal. Of course he knew in sixteen days it would be all anybody ever talked about, but for the time being it felt like the game, the little world he had created in the past few days with its gentle music and soft, wholesome theme, was his and his alone. The fact that it was a gift from his friends made it all the more special, and even if he had a hectic day at school he could turn on the console and water pretend flowers on a pretend island, and for those few moments, all was right with the world.

He was pulling weeds to sell to Timmy for bells when his screen pinged in the corner that made his blood run cold.

(Gamertag) is online

Playing: Animal Crossing New Horizons

That’s right, you had friended him on the switch after realizing all his friends had one, and now with a fourth person they could have a full team online. Mirio has suggested everyone exchange codes, and you had taken the liberty of showing him how to punch in the code and adding yourself while he sat there trying not to melt into his seat at how excited you got, or how nice you smelled up close. You had passed it back with a beaming grin, telling him you couldn’t wait to do co-ops. At the time he could only nod, speechless as the rest of his friends made idle chatter until the bell rung, and everyone scurried back to class.

He quickly realized he had left the terminal gate open when he was poking around the various features, learning about what each thing does in game. He tried sprinting to the airport to close the gates, and he made it to the dock before a big green banner flashed across his screen reading “you have a visitor!”

Out of the threshold popped your avatar, and for a moment he was grateful he could hide behind a screen. He wanted to be mad, upset even, that you had wandered onto his digital sanctuary, but couldn’t find it in himself because, then again, it was you.

The Nookphone in the top left corner buzzed to life, and he opened up the chat log with shaky hands. In a cutesy, pastel speech bubble was your message, and he wondered how something that was once so therapeutic to him could do a 180 and suddenly become the source of his anxiety.

G/T: Hello! Sorry to pop in unannounced, I hope you don’t mind^^

Tamaki felt his mouth go dry, reading it in your voice and after steadying his breathing, he painstakingly typed out a response.

Suneater: its ok.

G/T: It’s kinda hard to find others to play with when the game isn’t even released yet >~<

Suneater: Oh?

He should have known it was too good to be true. You were only visiting him because no one else was on yet. He sighed, trying to keep the dread from crawling back in before another note popped up.

G/T: The game doesn’t actually release until the first day of spring, but working at (s/n) has its perks. I saw the trailers and the hype and figured it would be the perfect game for you.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him upon reading that. So he wasn’t the last choice- rather, the game simply wasn’t out to the general public yet. But if that was the case, how did you also get a copy?

Suneater: thats nice of you

G/T: And then a little birdy told me you had a birthday coming up, so since I have a couple connections after I got my copy, I asked my manager if they’d set aside one more.

Suneater: you

Suneater: you were the one who helped get it early?

Boy did he feel stupid now. You worked at (s/n), (as you had literally just mentioned in your previous notes), Nejire got him a game that wasn’t out yet, you guys were all mutual friends- how did he not put two and two together?!

G/T: Yes lol that would be me^ you liking it so far? You picked a good name for the island too.

“Sunshine Island” may have seemed a little cliche to most people, but Tamaki had so many things in his life linked to it that by this point, it was just routine. Mirio was his sun in dark times. His nickname Suneater, even the sunflowers he had received from his parents for his birthday each year was tradition. He knew not everyone would see it the way he did, but to him, it was perfect, and he was definitely chuffed when he thought it up and punched it in for the first time.

To hear you loved it too sent a swell of pride through him, and he wondered if it was possible to love someone as much as he did just then.

Suneater: you really think so?

G/T: Absolutely

And with that, the two of you explored Sunshine Island together, he showed you his tent, the shops, and the little orchard of peaches he had arranged. You were impressed by the amount of detail and care that went into arranging everything, and asked if he’d be willing to help you with your island sometime, to which he obliged.

You guys did some more walking, and he told you to feel free to shake theres and take a couple fruits with you. His native fruit was peaches, and in exchange you dropped a couple of your own fruits from your island on the ground for him to pick up so he could have more variety in his world.

G/T: There’s six different kinds, and each island is assigned one main type of fruit. the more you visit with friends, the more biodiversity you’ll get. Pretty cool right? I have some spare (F/N), and if you take and plant those, they'll grow and multiply!

His avatar hesitantly wandered over to the offering after yours stepped back a little to let him take them. Your generousity was surely appreciated, and even though you couldn't see it, he smiled softly before typing out a new message.

Suneater: Thank you. I’ll go plant those.

The game might have been synced up with real time, even getting darker after a certain hour- yet despite it being outside, neither one of you noticed just how much time had passed between all the bug catching, fishing, exploring and talking. When your screen loaded up a clock that read 2:54 AM, you blinked a few times, as if that would change the reading. But lo and behold, it was going for 3am on a school night, and you knew you both had to get to bed.

G/T: Ah beans its 3am, I gotta get to bed soon. Thanks for letting me hang out on your island, and sorry for keeping you awake >~<

Suneater: don't be sorry, i had a lot of fun. can we play together again sometime?

G/T: Of course! I can't wait to meet up again. Maybe we can visit my island next time? I should have those peaches planted by then, and you can teach me your ways, oh master landscaper.

Tamaki chuckled out loud at that, blushing, as he suddenly had a brilliant idea.

Suneater: That would be nice. Wait here a second.

He scurried off to a patch of flowers he had blooming, and with a shovel, picked up a few in your favorite color before making his way back over and dropping them in front of you.

Suneater: You can start by planting a few of these around your island. It is your favorite color, right?

Now it was your turn to blush as you picked up the (f/c) flowers he dropped in front of you, smiling like a goon at his burst of confidence. How he remembered your favorite color is beyond you, but hey- you weren’t complaining.

G/T: They’re perfect, thank you Tama!

Suneater: You're welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow?

G/N: You know it! Goodnight <3

And on that note you walked down to the airport, his avatar following close behind as if to see you off. It was a simple gesture, but appreciated nonetheless. Both of you powered down your switches for the night before plugging them in, and promptly hopping into your respective beds with racing hearts. It was the perfect end to your digital “date” and you couldn’t wait to log in again.

Thank you for reading! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The inbox is always open for future ideas, so don’t be afraid to drop in.

Also gonna tag @katsukisprincess cause I mean...Animal Crossing and wholesome Tamaki fluff. ‘Nuff said.

#bug mom writes #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #acnh #bnha #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki amajiki #x reader imagine #fluff

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saint-kore · 4 years

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Sins Of The Flesh [18+] (Tim Curry x Reader)

♡ A/N: Hi everyone! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been going through a bit of a writer’s block unfortunately but now, I’m back with a nice treat! This fic is a bit scandalous but it was really fun to write! I listened to a LOT of Hozier while writing, gives me inspiration of sorts lol. I honestly haven’t written a Tim Curry fanfic in such a long time. I did/attempted to a couple of times whenever I used to lurk on the CurryFest/CurryGirls forum (which I was wayyy too young to be a part of lmao) and it was a good time and Tim Curry is amazing. Mmh but yes, I hope you all enjoy this written smut feast of a fanfic! -Persie♡

♡ Word count: 5,901 ♡

♡ Contains: Very NSFW, SMUT, A/U, oral sex, rough sex, penetration with a foreign object, taboo sex/sex in a church♡

The stained-glass windows made the walls of the Gothic-style church glow with a colorful hue as you made your way to the confessional booth. It was dark, the golden rays of the sun just peeking out to paint the sky with a dark blue and lavender hue. The sound of your steps echoing off of the walls made you wince slightly, making you almost slow your walk to keep the noise to a minimum. The silence seeming to greet you in a relief when you did, making your body focusing on the throb erupting through your body as you opened the wooden door of the confessional booth and closed it once you sat down.

You glanced over at the young priest sitting silently next to you, his expression calm and patient as he waited to hear your secrets. In the dim light, you could see his green eyes staring ahead, his full pink lips parted slightly. The scent of him thrilled you; a scent of musk, amber and a note that was unfamiliar to you but seemed to round out the scent with an oozing spiciness that made you clear your throat gently at the flickering heat that hit you.

Your secrets.

The sins that invaded your mind and preyed upon your flesh with a predatory delight. The thought made you put a soft hand up to your throat, looking down in despair. Growing up in a strict, religious household was not easy for you; you often longed to be like your peers and other young women around you who were open and wild; the smiles on their faces were ones of joy and youthful exuberance that you longed to obtain or find within yourself. You hated being proper, you found no joy in being a ‘good girl’. You had urges, urges that were described so blissfully in the adult books you often pilfered since you were a preteen, of lust and yearning. A need that led you in the arms of a sweet-talking boy from your church who clumsily handled your body and deflowered you, both of you writhing with the grace of two unpracticed teens discovering their sexual appetite but it didn’t help the feeling. A burning that skyrocketed whenever you were near the young priest beside you and you felt ashamed. Tears prick your eyes as you close them tightly, memories of the first time you met the priest entering your mind.

A bright, wide smile on his full pink lips and a warm handshake has greeted you, followed by a smooth British accent that complemented his warm, deep voice. His dark hair was neatly combed with not a strand out of place, bright green eyes, and a smooth face. He wasn’t that much taller than you, standing over you by a couple of inches with broad shoulders and a charming mien.

From behind the latticed opening, you could see a rosy flush erupt upon the young priest’s face. He quickly swallowed and looked down from you, closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer to himself under his breath. You took the moment of silence from him to continue your confession to him, your hands gripping at the sides of your chair.

“Welcome. I am Father Timothy,” he greeted gently. His voice made you feel like you were being blanketed in liquid gold and honey. You had heard whispers from the other girls about Father Timothy, followed by giggles and adoring coos about how handsome and sweet he was – something that would have definitely gotten them into trouble if heard. It was not as if you did not notice, your thoughts were riddled with thoughts of curiosity that morphed into an infatuation as you spent more time at the church – learning and serving under him. Maybe it was his wide, boyish grins or the way his eyes locked onto you for a second longer than was deemed appropriate or even the way his hand brushed yours as he looked over your scripture reading for the day. The flit of his long, dark lashes and a wicked beam could make you melt in an instant; a feeling that you had never felt for another person and having them so close and so accessible made it feel so immoral. You both had grown so close over time that he granted you permission to call him by his name when you both studied alone. You made sure not to address him by his name publicly, knowing that it would catch the attention of others who would immediately draw their negative conclusions – and maybe rightfully so. You had noticed that he wasn’t as close to the other volunteers and members of the church as he was to you, giving them small nods of acknowledgement or even engaging in moments of laughter. Yet with you, it seemed more personal and somehow even affectionate the way he would speak and interact with you. His eyes always dancing with a little light, swirling in his deep green orbs when he would look at you. The furtive glances and smiles in your direction when you both around others would make you blush. They were looks filled with interest, thought, flickers of longing, you thought. Maybe you weren’t alone in how you felt…

“Forgive me, Father Timothy, Your Reverence for I have sinned, ” you started, finally looking up at him as you addressed him properly. It made you want to look away once more, but you held his stare. “I have been having…lustful thoughts. It has been causing me great distress. I have been trying to pray away the ache and I have gone unanswered…,” you breathed, nervously clasping your hands together.

“I have,” you confirmed, tugging at the puffy sleeves of your thin shirt. You place a hand against the cool wood of the latticed window as you leaned in closer.

“Please…I need your guidance, Father. The thoughts have progressed…,” you whispered urgently, your voice like a honeyed lull in his ear. “I have been trying to get rid of it on my own,”

Your full lips parted, noticing in the corner of your eye that he had tilted his head to gaze at you through the latticed opening. You dared to gaze back at him before lowering your eyes shyly from his warm expression. Your name had slipped from his beautiful lips in a hushed whisper, making you press your thighs together to hold back the roaring need begging for you to succumb.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, watching as you had leaned in closer. Sweat started to form on his brow as he stared at you, beginning to imagine you sprawled out on your bed while your hand drifted down your stomach before sliding into your cotton panties to stroke your slippery wetness. He swallowed hard, thinking about how tight, creamy and slick you must be in those moments and wished that he could have witnessed the moments of you giving in to your most carnal desire. Your soft, cherry lips open in an excited moan as your hands worked yourself to a release, your hand stretching the fabric of your panties.

“Last night…,” you replied to his question, making him glance away as his heartbeat picked up. His hands were gripped into fists as he tried to maintain control over himself.

“What thoughts have made you commit such a sin?” he asked, closing his eyes tightly when he heard the very faint sound of a moan escape you. He could feel your want bubbling to the surface and permeate the room. He reached down and shakily gripped a crucifix in his hot hands, looking up as he waited for you to respond. His face felt hot, trying his best to calm his shaking hands.

“Have you touched yourself…?” he inquired quietly, making your heart stopped at how husky his voice sounded. His eyes were set on you once more and you could see that he was breathing heavily at this point.

“They were thoughts about a person I see all the time. All I could think about is him…and how it would feel to have his hands all over me and running over the place I need him most. Sometimes it’s almost too much to think about, knowing that at any moment, I might be blessed enough to have his lips brush mine,” you spoke, feeling your heart begin to pour out.

He dared another glance in your direction, his heart almost stopping when he saw the look in your eyes. Gone was the sparkle of shyness that usually danced in your irises, replaced with a darkened smolder of want as your hand continued to press against the window. Your fingertips seemed to trace the design of the lattice lightly, moving along every curve absentmindedly.

You both stared at each other for a long moment, only the sound of your combined heavy breathing filling the air. You started to feel a bit self-conscious under his stare, beginning to rethink your confession.

“Y/N…we mustn’t,” he whispered at you, as if he did not want anyone else to hear his words. His green eyes were wide, his face closer to the confessional window. “It’s not right. You know that - ,”

You shook your head with a frown, realizing what you were doing and immediately felt yourself shrinking down into yourself. You looked down, your face feeling hot from shame as he spoke, and you immediately stood up. He paused in the middle of his speech when he saw you rise, following you out of the confessional booth when you left. He reached out to grab your hand, making you look back at him in surprise.

“Wait…,” he started before you shook your head, his green eyes studying you curiously once you paused.

“I’m so sorry, Timothy. I’m sorry. I feel so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done this,” you spoke up, glancing down at your intertwined hands.

“I’m…more so surprised that you have these…feelings for me,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood a bit but the look in your eyes automatically intensified the moment once again.

“It’s hard to deny. Just being near you and around you make me feel good and it just feels different. I always want to feel that way and it has progressed into…this,” you explained, gazing at him with a gentle gaze. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to touch his chest. You held your breath as you did, ready for him to step away from you. You were surprised to see that he stood rooted to the spot that he was in, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. You kept you hand on his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric, feeling it slowly begin to pick up beneath your palm. You blinked once he took his hand from his chest and brought it up to his lips to kiss your hand, placing a kiss to each one of your knuckles. You watched closely, his soft lips moving to kiss around to the inside of your wrist. You gasped gently at the sensitivity, his eyes moving to meet yours again as he pulled his lips back. His eyes slowly gained a hazy look to them as he eyed you, stroking the inside of your wrist as if he wanted to embed the kiss he placed there into your skin.

He reached to cup your cheek, the sensation making you focus on your breathing and your hand clenching at his chest, crumpling the creased fabric in your fist. Timothy seemed to hesitate for a moment, breathing from his mouth as his gaze roamed over your face and down your body.

“God, forgive me…,” he breathed, making you furrow your brows in confusion and hoped that he wouldn’t pull away again

A sharp cry escaped you, your hands moving to grip the sides of the altar as he moved his head from side to side. He let out a ravenous moan, spreading your thighs wide as he continued to devour you. His hot tongue slid from your tight opening and up to circle around your slippery jewel, eliciting a shaky moan from you. He latched his mouth around it, moaning at the taste of you. He used his thumbs to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, moving his lips from you for a moment to watch your wetness drip down your quivering cunt. He moved to lick at every drop that you gifted him, his tongue then moving to lash at your opening before he gripped your ass and pressed his tongue deep inside of your creamy slit.

“Wh--,” you were unable to finish your thought as he pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss, both his hands coming up to cup your face as he did. You were surprised by the action but quickly began to move your lips against his, the desire that had pooled inside of your over time started to come out in that moment. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck, your hand clenching at his dark hair and tugging lightly. He let out a soft groan and moved to lift you, making you let out a surprised gasp before immediately caught yours again. You kissed him back, making sure to hold onto him as he carried you towards the white marble altar. He carefully laid you across the it, the flowers that were laid upon it falling to the floor. His hands moved up your legs, bunching your skirt up to expose your soft skin to him.

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he parted your legs and was immediately greeted with the sight of your soft thighs and thinly covered pussy, hearing him let out a deep, guttural groan as he buried his face against your mound. He let out a moan as he inhaled the scent of you before nipping at the cotton of your panties that concealed your wetness from his hungry mouth. You shifted against the altar, feeling him grab ahold of your hips and pulled you closer to him. His hand pushed your long skirt up higher to grab at the waistband of your panties. You put your legs up as he slid them off, his hands moving to hold your legs up and together by your thighs before he pressed his hungry mouth to your juicy mound.

You let out a needy moan, his eyes watching in awe as you pulled and tugged the thin, puffed cotton shirt off of your upper half. Your nipples immediately hardened when the air hit them, his eyes glittering at the sight. He moved up to press your breasts together, suckling hard on your sensitive nipples before moving to give the other equal attention pulling a lewd moan from your throat. He slid his tongue between the valley of your breasts with a hungry moan before pulling back. He moved down to roughly pull off your skirt, tossing it on the ground and leaving you completely naked upon the altar. He knelt back down between your thighs, his hands firmly pushing them up and apart.

Hearing you coo out his name as his pink lips pressed against the pulsing jewel made him close his eyes, his cock twitching beneath his soutane. He reached down to rub himself through the dark robes, his hardness straining against his pants. He moaned deeply as he continued to lap at your wetness, obsessed with the taste of you.

You kept them in the position that he set them in, letting out a long hum of pleasure when he circled his tongue up and down the length of your pussy once more before giving little suckles at your throbbing clit.

You could not contain the passionate moans and gasps that left your lips at the sensation, one had moving to clasp over your mouth to try to muffle the sound. You were gratefully that you both were the only ones at the church at the moment. Your thoughts were interrupted when his tongue slid out of you to latch onto one of your nether lips, moaning as he suckled on it like a ripened peach. His green eyes looked up at you, urged on by your moans to continue as his nibbled on you lightly before turning to bite at the soft skin of your thigh, suckling hard to leave a mark in its wake. He licked and suckled his way all over your thighs, nibbling and biting sharply at the smooth skin. He moved back in, slurping up your wetness as he continued to grip and knead your ass. He pulled back with a shuddering breath, his darkened eyes watching you squirm in anticipation of his next move.

“Timothy…,”

Timothy felt your gushing wetness dribble down his chin continued to thrust his tongue in out of you, moaning out as you gripped at his head and made him bury his face deeper into your cunt. He quickly moved his hands down to undo his pants, moaning in relief as he was able to release himself from his pants. He quickly began to stroke himself as he continued to explore your walls with his tongue, his nose pressed and rubbing against your clit. He heard your moans become longer and breathier, making him moan more against you before pulling back. He began to stroke your sensitive clit, licking the taste of you from his bottom lip.

“Oh Timothy…,” you moaned out, unable to recognize your own voice as you called out to him. He latched onto your clit again when he heard you moan out his name again, his needy moan vibrating against you as he began to move his fingers a bit faster inside of you. The sound of your wetness echoing off the vast walls of the church along with your unsteady moans. A hungry moan escaped his lips again, slowly pulling his fingers out of you again before parting your lips again. He buried his face back into your dripping cunt, his tongue sliding in and out of you as he began to tongue fuck you. Your hand remained on the back of his head, clenching and tugging at his black locks as he worked. You shuddered and moaned passionately as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release, his tongue rubbing and sliding against your soaked walls before flitting against the ridged love spot.

“Release for me…please, I want to taste all of you…,” he groaned, continued to press and gently flick your clit and smiling as you twitched under the sensation. You felt something coiling like a spring inside of you, your hips raising up as your body began to tighten as he continued to rhythmically stroke and flick at your jewel. He let out a mewl before he moved to plunge his tongue back inside of you, your mouth becoming dry from your constant moans.

“Yes…yes….,” you moaned out, your walls tightening around his greedy, thrusting tongue as he worked to drive her closer and closer. You suddenly let out a sharp gasp, your hips jolting as you release. He moaned out, his hand swiping and stroking his cock a few more times before he used both of his hands to grip your thighs and held them apart as he licked and slurped down your sweet release. He panted, licking happily at her opening for every ounce of cum that you released. You watched as he stood back up, staring at you intensely as he stroked himself in front of you. Your lips parted, sitting up on your elbows as you watched him. His hand worked up and down his shaft, watching the small pearl of precum form at the tip before his fingers came up to swipe it away as he smoothed around his tip.

“I want to hear you say my name again,” he purred darkly, spreading your lips apart again with one hand as his other hand stroked your wetness slowly. He used one of his warm fingers to press against your wet slit, his lips parting as he watched your wetness glisten against his hand. You whimpered softly, your hips shifting at the new sensation. You heard him murmur at you to relax before he pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped at the new sensation, wanting to clasp your legs together but you kept your legs apart as he invaded her soft, wet walls. Timothy groaned at the feeling of your walls clasping around his digit, leaning up to generously lick at your swollen clit once more. He closed his eyes, moaning to himself as he began to slowly thrust his finger in you. You moaned out, gazing up at the ceiling as tried your best to focus on the sensations occurring between your thighs. The combined colors of the stained windows upon the domed ceiling like a kaleidoscope to your hazy eyes. When he curled his finger inside of you, your hands shot down to grip at his dark hair with a surprised moan. Your thighs tensed as he continued before he moved to push another finger inside of you, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to open you up.

He was immediately pulled in by your bright eyes, shy smiles and your will to help others within the church and the charitable tasks that everyone participated in. Yet, he was also ensnared by the sway of your hips, the swell of your breasts beneath your button ups and the soft skin that would occasionally become exposed from your midriff when you would reach for something on a shelf or whenever you would bend down to and your skirt would slide up the back of your thighs. The way you would bite the side of your lip while you concentrate always distracted him or whenever you brush your soft hand against your round throat absentmindedly as you read through scripture. He even would lean close to you in those moments, his nose immediately hit with the scent of your sweet, floral perfume. It was exhilarating and frightening to find you occupying his dreams during the night and silently hoping that it felt real enough just to feel a tiny wisp of your touch on his skin. He had that moment now and wasn’t going to let the moment slip from him.

“Pull your legs up…,” he commanded firmly, making you jump slightly before you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and pulled your legs up against you. You blushed as your pussy was completely exposed to him once again, watching as he stepped forward with a grin. He began to unbutton his soutane, removing the coat before loosening his shirt after. You began to wonder what he would do next, your heart picking up as all of the possibilities floated through your mind. You hitched a breath as you felt a number finger slide up and down your extremely sensitive pussy. The sensation boarded on being too extreme, a hiss escaping your hoarse throat as he teased you lightly. You suddenly felt cold metal touch you, it was rounded, and you let out a cry as it brushed your slippery clit. You heard a dark chuckle escape him, one that was unfamiliar to you. You felt a renewed dark lust wash over you before a sharp cry escape you as he pushed the item inside of you. Your eyes rolled back for a moment as it plunged into you, making you part your legs slightly. A gasp escaped you when you saw the glint of the silver cross slowly pushed inside of you. He left it planted snugly inside of you, flicking at your clit before giving it a light tug with his lips. He laughed softly at the moan that escaped you, moving towards the other end of the altar where your head laid.

He gently pulled you upward, making you automatically let go of the back of your knees. You kept your legs apart, moaning at the sensation of the cross shifting inside of you. Your head hung off of the altar, watching as his legs moved as he walked back around to your bottom half. You moaned out he made sure that the cross stayed planted inside of your soft, wet opening. Timothy moaned as he could see you pussy clinging at it. You felt his hand brush against your stomach and breasts as walked back around to your head. You felt slightly lightheaded; your lips parting as you watched him exposed himself to your eyes. You studied his veiny shaft, the light pink tip leaking before he took a hold of the base of shaft and brushed against your pouty lips and chin. He traced your lips with the tip, hearing him breathing heavily above you.

“You’re so beautiful…,” he breathed, a groan following quickly behind as his cock twitched in his palm. He looked at your body for a moment, taking in the sight of your bare flesh and immediately thought of all the times he has imagined this before. It was inappropriate, it was sinful, it was all of the things that shouldn’t run through the mind of a man of God but, he was still a man. He knew that dedicating his life to a purpose such as this at a young age would come with its temptations and when he first met you, he knew that you were one of the lures.

“Open your mouth,” he spoke in a raspy tone, his accent heavier than before. You moaned lightly before parting your lips for him, moaning as he plunged his length into your mouth. You closed your eyes tightly, feeling his hot hand grasp lightly at your throat as he slowly thrusted into your mouth. You heard a series of heated moans leaving his lips. Your tongue slid on the top of his cock as he thrusted, clenching your throat tighter. You moaned, your hips twisting slightly as he continued. The sound of his soft praises met your ears, making your moan around his cock. You gagged once he gave a hard thrust, lodging himself in your throat and swallowed around his thick length. You struggled to breathe as he leaned over you, a whimper escaping you as he gave your wet mound a light smack. You moaned loudly around his cock, your eyes clenched tightly as he began to move it inside of you for a moment before giving your pussy a couple of harder smacks and making another muffled cry erupt from you. He gave your wet, suckling mouth a couple of hard thrusts before finally pulling out. You let out a gasp, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. You obediently opened your mouth again for him once he came back, groaning as he began to thrust into your mouth once more, his tip moving to enter her throat once more. His hands moved to grab at your breasts, roughly kneading them as he thrusted hard into your mouth. You gagged and coughed around him, focusing on his loving, passionate words and mewling moans through the act. You did your best to take it, his slick cock sliding in and out of your mouth.

“Oh Y/N…,” Timothy moaned out, rolling his hips to plunge his shaft deep into your throat and holding it there. You felt the saliva from your efforts rolling down your face, making you close your eyes tighter. You breathed through your nose, gagging loudly and hearing him groan out as your throat muscles clasped at him. He gave your throat a hard squeeze, making you let out strangled yelp around him. A loud hiss escaped him as he gave you several short yet hard thrusts deep in your throat before suddenly pulling out, gasping again and coughing to catch up with the needed oxygen. Your face was soaked with saliva as you slowly sat up. Your limbs were shaky as you kept your sore legs parted. You moaned as he pressed Timothy pressed his lips roughly to yours, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours before suckling on your tongue lightly, pulling back after. He gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes, stroking your cheek.

Timothy smirked softly, gently using the cloth from his pant pocket to wipe the mess from your face. He leaned in to give you bottom lip a little suckle and another peck on the lips before leaning his forehead on yours. Your eyes gazed into his green orbs, staring deep into your eyes.

He smiled wider as his hand went between your legs to slowly pull the cross out of your pussy, seeing that he was completely coated with your essence. He moaned as he looked at it, bringing it to his lips to lick away some of your juices while staring into your eyes. He leaned it towards your lips and you immediately opened your mouth to suckle at the warm juices that leaked down the cross. Timothy’s smile faded as he watched with a parted mouth, his swollen lips reddened and wet with your essence. He pulled the cross away to press his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply once more and moaning softly when he could taste you on your tongue.

He threw the cross onto the ground as you parted, nibbling on your lip briefly before grabbed you and turned you to bend over the altar. You let out a soft moan, your hands pressed against the polished marble of the altar. Your arms were shaking as you waited for his next action, feeling him press a strong hand against your back to make you arch. You instinctively stood on your tiptoes, feeling his hands knead and rub your ass once more. You focus on the wall in front of you, feeling the cool metal of his belt brush against the back of your thigh as he got close, his heat radiating against your back side. You let out a hoarse moan, feeling him slowly press himself inside of you. You heard a loud moan leave him as he stretched your walls, his grip on your hips becoming rougher as his fingers pressed into your soft skin. Your hands balled up into fists as you felt his hips press firmly against yours, his shaft settled deep inside of you.

He slowly pulled back before rolling his hips forward, giving you a deep thrust before setting into a punishing rhythm. His hands kept ahold of your hips, the sound of his pants and deep groans filling air as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t hide the passionate moans that left your lips, trying your best to stay up. Timothy took note of this and grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you up as he began to thrust harder into you, his hips smacking against your ass.

“Oh yes…,” he moaned deeply, giving a sharp tug at your hair to pull another loud moan from you. He slammed into you a couple of more times and let out a loud moan of pleasure, your cunt gripping his cock firmly. He gave gentle pat to your behind before pulling out, making you lay down on the altar once more.

He grabbed your legs and positioned them over his shoulders, his cock aiming at your drenched slit before slowly pushing into you once more. You watched his face as his eyes rolled back, feeling him rolling his hips against you before pulling back to start up a thrusting rhythm once more. His hips smacked hard against the back of your thighs as he slammed into you, a crying moan living your lips as he continued. He grabbed your hips, helping you meet his thrusts as he continued to plunge into you. His eyes widened as you reached down to rub at your already sensitive clit as he thrusted, a whimper escaping him as he watched your circled your clit and gently rubbed it in time with his thrusts. The sight made him thrust harder, locking eyes with you when he felt himself getting closer to his release. His hand slid up your belly to grip at your throat, clenching firmly as he pounded into you roughly. You kept eye contact with him, feeling his cock throb inside of you. Your moans becoming more and more intense as he continued to roughly handle you. You let out a soft cry as you came once again, your walls rippling around his shaft. You gasped as he clenched your throat tighter at the sensation of you releasing around his cock, giving you a few more hard thrusts before giving you one last hard thrust and kept himself burying himself inside of you as he came hard inside of you.

A loud groan left him, giving shallow thrusts as he emptied himself inside of you. You felt the warmth of his seed spread inside of you; the feeling was comforting in a way. You both stayed intertwined before he slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders. You winced lightly at the sensation, but he handled you with care, making sure not to make your legs swing.

“Come here…,” he whispered as he opened his arms to you, making you slowly sit up to accept his embrace. He leaned down to give you a passionate kiss, nuzzling his nose against yours after. He smoothed your hair back from your face, kissing your forehead before rubbing your arms gently to warm you when he noticed you shiver and gave you another warm, long embrace. He gathered your clothes for you, being gentle as he possibly could with your sensitive body. You felt so special, as if you were made of priceless porcelain with the care that he made sure to give you.

Timothy looked at you with a warm admiration after you both fixed yourselves up. You were carefully as you stood up, his seed still warm in your belly as the vibrant rays of sunlight began to rise and change the color from its former lavender to a true blue as the morning began to come in with renewed life.

“Will you be attending service today?” he asked softly as he walked with you, making you smile at him.

“Maybe,” you responded quietly, glancing over at him. A broad smile broke over his face as he rubbed your back before quickly, chastely pecking your cheek again and stroked your chin lightly. He bit his lip as he looked at you, glancing at the window furtively when he saw cars pulling up to the church, signaling the early risers arriving. He sighed inwardly, not wanting the moment to end. He knew that you probably wouldn’t come to service but wanted to make sure to see you again today.

“See me later then? I want to do this different. Properly…,” he asked quietly, grabbing ahold of your hand momentarily and continued to stroke your chin. You smiled sweetly at him before quickly nodding in response, feeling him squeeze your hand firmly in promise of what was to come before you both parted ways until the moment you would be in each other’s arms once more.

♡

#tim curry #tim curry x reader #tim curry fanfic #smut #take me to church #alternate universe #au #tim curry/reader #Tim Curry #tim curry fanfiction #tim curry smut

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rainverry · 4 years

Text

truth

pairing: mark lee x gender neutral reader word count: 1.7k words genre: angst, fluff warnings: mentions of cheating author's note: pure cringey fluff, honestly (and not the good kind). read at your own risk.

Everything about her was a lie. From her sickly sweet smile to her perfectly curled lashes, she seemed to appear from a dream, as if she wasn't real; as if it was too good to be true for a person like her to exist.

That did not stop the love of your life and your lifetime best friend Mark Lee from falling head over heels for her. As much as you wished for the ground to open up and swallow you whenever you saw him kiss her or hold her tenderly, you couldn't blame him for being smitten with her. Her face looked like it was made to define perfection, her bubbly personality was always a mood maker and God, if you couldn't see through her fake smiles and forced laughs even you would fall for her.

Every time you looked at her, her curly head thrown back in faux laughter at a joke Mark had cracked, you knew that she didn't care an ounce for your best friend's feelings. So when the news came that she broke Mark's heart by dumping him for someone else, it was unfortunately no surprise to you.

That happened about a little over a month ago. You've tried to check on Mark to see how he's doing, but since your schedules were packed with midterms, phone calls were the only way you could communicate for the past few weeks. He'd assured you over the phone that he would be fine and he just needed time to heal from that disastrous breakup.

Now, you are sprawled out on your couch, not paying any attention to the Netflix show you had put on when you hear the shrill of your ringtone. You lazily reach over to your phone and press Answer, not bothering to see who's calling.

"Hello?" you mumble sleepily. You rub your eyes, let out a silent yawn and look at the clock on the wall. It isn't even half past 9, and usually you'd be out celebrating the end of your exams but your body is tired out from the long few weeks you've had.

"Hey Y/N, are you busy?" Mark's raspy voice greets in your ear, and that's all it took for your drowsiness to slip away.

"Not at all, what's up?" you tell him truthfully.

"Could you... could you come over?" he questions timidly. You hear a muffled sniffle on the other line, and you immediately know he'd been crying.

"I'll be right there."

When you unlock his front door with a spare key Mark had provided you in the past, the last thing you expect to see is him moping on one corner of the sofa, staring dolefully at the blank TV screen in front of him. Your heart drops at the sight.

"Hey," you whisper softly as you toss the keys on the coffee table and sink down on the space beside him.

He doesn't say anything as he leans his head on your shoulder as his silent response. You let him soak in your presence first, knowing that he'll soon start talking when he's ready.

After a moment, "It's her," he murmurs with a sniffle, and your fists clench at his words. "I found out that she started seeing him the day we first kissed."

And that's when you feel your sleeve start to get wet from your best friend's tears. You thank the heavens that Mark couldn't see your face at that moment because you're sure that your gaze could pierce through walls. You're tired. You're tired and sick of the many people that have manipulated him in the past, you want to strangle every single one of them and the cause of his latest heartbreak is no different.

You don't expect him to continue talking, but he does. "I'm an idiot, that's all I am," he starts to sob into the crook of your neck, his body trembling and his voice cracking, and your heart breaks a thousand times over. Your left shoulder is soaked with his tears, but you couldn't care less as you wrap your arms around his torso, your own tears threatening to fall. "I felt so l-lucky, thinking someone could finally love me. But i-it's a lie, of course it's all a lie! I'm so stupid. I fell for it. Again."

You lightly pull the hairs at the nape of his neck comfortingly, trying to keep yourself from crying. "You're not stupid Mark. At one point you're going to get over her eventually. It will take some time, but once you do get over her, you'll be thinking about how much she has lost for taking advantage of you."

He finally gets up to face you, wiping away his hot tears that just keep on coming. "It's not her I'm thinking of," he seethes with anger, gritting his teeth. "She lost all my respect the minute I found out she cheated."

"Then what are you upset about?" you ask him quietly. He's still wrapped in your arms, and even in all this agony you can't help but marvel at his beauty; from his chiselled cheekbones, his kissable lips and his adorable cheeks, red and stained from crying; and of course, the alluring brown eyes that you fell in love with.

"I don't know, what about the fact that my last three relationships all ended up in flames?" Mark laughs mirthlessly, and you almost flinch at his harsh tone. The usual laugh lines on his face are now replaced with lines of fury, the endless tears still running down his face. "I'm just going to accept that no one will ever love me like that."

That could not be further from the truth.

"How in the world could you say that?" you silently fume, your sorrow now turning into indignation. "That's not true at all!"

"How would you know?" he asks bitterly, glaring at the ground.

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Be-because... because I love you, Mark! I've been in love you for the longest time! You're the most amazing person I know! You're this funny, handsome, compassionate, inspiring, generous, charming and honest guy and anyone would be lucky to call you theirs. If no one can see what an incredible human being you are, then they're either blind or just plain stupid," you finally snap, the words flowing out of your mouth and you're unable to stop them. You could no longer stand to see the man of your dreams beat himself up for something that was no way his fault.

You, however, do not realise the confession that had slipped along with the long speech you had given until you see the shock that's written on his face. Mark's eyes are wide open in amazement as he was obviously not expecting a declaration of love for him from his best friend while he's wrapped in your arms, right there on his couch.

Your heart beats so loud you're almost positive Mark could also hear it. You didn't want it to happen like this. You had not imagined it to happen like this. As cheesy as it sounds, you'd imagined for the both of you to affirm your love for each other in the rain, in each other's arms after a magical and miraculous epiphany but never like this. God, what have you done?

His expression is now unreadable, and you know you've messed up. You have to fix this. You have to tell him that your feelings shouldn't and wouldn't change anything. You have to tell him that he shouldn't look at you any different from now on. So you begin, "Mark..."

But you never finish what you're about to say because the next thing you know is the feeling of Mark's lips on yours, kissing you so hard as if there's no tomorrow; so hard that you could feel it in your bones. You feel his hands move to your waist, rubbing your sides softly. The taste of his lips are a mix of his salty tears and honey, and the butterflies in your stomach sends you into a state of euphoria that you never want to come down from.

"Mark," you struggle to say, loud breaths leaving your mouth when he finally pulls away from you. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly in disbelief of what just happened. Your best friend just gave you the best kiss of your life, right here in his living room. "W-what are you doing?"

He stares at you with his beautiful doe eyes, full of anguish. His chest rises and falls as he puffs out short and quick breaths. "What I should have done a long time ago," he breathes, his right hand going up to cup your cheek.

"But..." you sigh almost dreamily, still a little dazed from the mind-blowing kiss he'd just given you. You're hesitant, though. Yes, you've been in love with him since forever and you want nothing more than for him to take you right then and there, but you're not going to be a mere distraction from his heartache. You deserve far better than that. "You're not only using me as a rebound, are you?"

"No," Mark says earnestly, and you search for any revealing signs to indicate that he's lying, but deep down you know he's telling the truth. "I am fully over anyone from my past. I promise."

You believe him, so you wrap your arms around his neck and connect your lips back together for another kiss. This time it's sweet, gentle and chaste, and your body tingles all over when you feel his hands on your hips and his smile against your lips.

"Can we take things slow?" you ask him softly as your foreheads press together, both of you breathless even from just a short kiss.

"Just as long as you stay the night," he replies with a smile, the first you've seen since you got here. Your heart melts, as it always does when you see his signature smile.

"Deal," you respond cheekily, a grin creeping onto your face. It won't be the first time for you to stay over at his place, but it's the first time you know it'll be different.

Mark beams at your answer, and then asks, "You're not sleepy yet, are you? I was thinking we could watch something first before we go to bed."

But you never do get to the bed as you fall asleep in each other's arms on his sofa, content with each other's presence as you look forward to the next day.

author’s note:

i’m back with another angst shot, yay! i swear i can write pure fluff, but i just love angst so much lol. anyways, sorry if the ending seemed a bit rushed. hope you like it!

also, staying the night is definitely not "taking it slow" LMAOOO

#nct angst #mark angst #nct imagine #nct scenario #mark lee angst #nct fluff #mark fluff #nct fic #mark fic #nct #nct u #nct 127 #mine #writing #soulmate #*

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devnicolee · 5 years

Text

A New Way (One-Shot)

A/N: This is random. I jotted down the idea a while ago and never went back to it lol but inspiration struck while starting Chapter 8 and I knocked the whole thing out during some down time at work today. This is a few months prior to our couple finally being honest about their feelings. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,701

"You asked to see me Lord M’Baku?" Zarah asked, entering the throne room behind Kide. She was puzzled at the scene before her, M’Baku, her brother and his guard dressed in their ceremonial war paint and battle clothes. Her eyes quickly glossed over the group of men as she tried to piece together what they were doing. "Is there a war I don’t know about?" She asked jokingly.

"Leave us," M’Baku demanded. All the men scattered quickly out of the space, giving the two a moment alone. She noted that her brother didn’t even acknowledge her as he exited, only increasing her confusion tenfold. Zarah’s face scrunched at the harshness in his tone. Whatever this was, it would not be good.

"No war…. It is Challenge Day in the Golden City."

Zarah tilted her head, only partial understanding settling in her. She waited a moment to see if he would expand on why that mattered but she was only met with expectant eyes that told her she was missing the point.

"Yes, T’Challa will be named king," she responded slowly, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "Good for him I suppose. What about it? The Jabari haven’t participated in the coronation festivities… well ever." Zarah strolled around the throne room like she always did when they were there alone, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up its walls to look down at Jabariland.

M’Baku tried to focus on the task at hand as he watched her, distracted (as he always was) by how carefree and powerful she looked as she sauntered through his throne room. Like she was born to be there, born to command this space as the queen he knew she was. She took her usual stance, leaning her shoulder onto the window and balancing there as she looked down at the village below and waited for him to respond.

"Za… I am going to challenge him."

She tore her eyes window sharply, the color draining out of her face as she prayed to Hanuman that she heard him wrong. "M’Ba... M’Baku no. Wait. What?"

"I do not have a choice. They have left me no choice. He will run Wakanda into to the ground, like his father before him. They have a child, A CHILD, overseeing their vibranium technology for Hanuman's sake. My father may have been content to sit by idly while they make a mockery of everything we hold dear but I won't stand for it." She could tell from his cadence that he had been practicing that speech, likely all day. And she knew that it was mainly for her because most in Jabariland would consider this decision a blessing, not a curse.

Zarah fell back off her shoulder so her whole back leaned against the window to stabilize herself, feeling her legs grow weak beneath her. "I understand all of that M'Baku. I do b-b-but... you have only been chief for a few years. Why give up this for a shot at being King of a country we actively choose not to be a part of? Help me understand how that serves the Jabari?"

"We have watched without acting for too long. That boy does not deserve to be King."

Zarah shook her head, she lied - she didn’t understand at all. His reasoning simply could not penetrate the bubble in her mind, the bubble filled with one glaring fact he seemed unwilling to address. "But Challenge Day," she took a deep breath to calm her rising anger and frustration. "Challenge Day… the outcome is yield or death, you understand that? You are willing to die to become King of Wakanda?"

"I am willing to die for what is right. This is right."

Her voice failed her for a moment as she took him his words, eyes widening in shock. "Y-you are willing to leave m- leave the Jabari without a chief?" The back of her hand instinctively wiped a stray tear. It was hitting her all at once, like a high-speed train. She could lose him today and there was no time to persuade him not to do this. Heartbreak wasn’t an accurate description of how she felt, it seemed too kind for the emotional agony she felt rushing through her.

His heart sagged at her tears, wondering if this was a mistake. He had to tell her, had to see her before he made this choice. He owed one of his closest friends that much. But he worried that seeing her would make the choice that much harder and it did. For the first time since he made this decision, he felt a pinch of doubt stinging his resolve. He cupped her face in his hands.

"Do you have that little faith in me little one? I will beat him and return King of Wakanda. But I can't hope to do this if you, of all people, don't believe I can win."

Zarah shook her head angrily; mad at him, the world, Hanuman and whatever imbecile put this idea in his head. "You don't get to put that on me M'Baku," she hissed. "You want to make this choice, that is your birthright. I can't stop you. But you don't get to saddle me with guilt because I do not agree with you. You are my best friend but I won't support you risking your life for this. It is not worth it. There are other ways to affect the change you want in Wakanda without doing this. If you die, who takes the mantle of chief? M'Cebo? You really think he is fit to lead us? He will destroy this tribe. Or Davu? You are just giving him another excuse to saunter down these very mountains and turn us all into fanatics. T'Challa may not be his father... give him a chance, a chance to be better," she pleaded, grasping his bare shoulders.

"He is no different than King T'Chaka Za... I give him a chance and condemn our people to more of the same. I am sorry."

Zarah nodded, covering her eyes with her hands before straightening herself up and wiping the tears that were forming. If this was his choice, nothing will change his mind. "It seems you have made your choice then. I believe you can beat him, I really do. But promise me... If he gives you the option to yield, please take it. Promise me you'll take it. The Jabari need you."

One of his thumbs grazed her cheek as he stared down at her, eyes heavy. "Just the Jabari?" He asked pointedly. Zarah slid her hands down his chest and pushed away from him, breaking their contact.

"The Jabari need you. Promise me, M'Baku," she demanded firmly.

His eyes fell to the ground frustrated. He wasn't sure what he was hoping, that with the threat of death looming over them, she might offer a window of opportunity to allow him to confess his love for her. But no such luck. He pushed through the pain he felt and pulled himself to full height before walking toward the door. Staying and looking at her simply made it harder to leave.

"I promise." The small declaration barely reached her ears as he swiftly marched out of the throne room. The large doors slammed shut, causing Zarah to flinch violently before she crumpled into a nearby seat, sobbing.

*****

"Try and calm down Zarah. Pacing about like a mad woman won’t make him come back any faster."

"You're right, you're right," she said, lifting her hands in surrender as she sat on the edge of the bed. They sat quietly for two minutes before Zarah was back up wearing a hole into her parents' carpet. Adisa rolled her eyes, her friend was impossible.

"He will come back Zarah. M'Baku is the best warrior we have. He will come back either way."

Zarah looked at her friend, disbelief on her face. "He is the best warrior we have and the most prideful. Do you really believe he will yield to T'Challa? He doesn't respect him, he doesn't like him. Either he comes back as King or he do-"

"Don't think like that. You said he promised to yield if given the option?" Adisa tried to reason.

Zarah scoffed loudly, "I don't know why I asked him to do that. I knew that promise was meaningless. He won't yield, it is not our way. It is not his way."

"Are you afraid he will die or are you afraid he will die when you didn't get a chance to tell him you love him?"

Zarah glared at her friend, anger slowly rising in her. "We are not having this conversation right now." She wished she had never confessed her love for M'Baku to Adisa. She felt like her friend was always throwing it back in her face, demanding she act on these feelings. She paid little attention to Zarah's reservations and fears. Adisa was the wild child of the two, rebellious and unapologetic, never caring if she failed. But she didn't understand that Zarah wasn't her.

"Maybe we should. That is the reason you made him promise and are so upset. He is doing what he feels is right as chief. This is his birthright. You weren't this scared when Davu challenged him. Why are you so afraid now? And do not lie to me and say it is because you are worried about the tribe."

Zarah hated that her friend was always right. She had no concerns when that fanatic challenged him, M'Baku crushed him and forced him to yield within minutes. She didn’t understand why now was different. Maybe she just loved him more. But regardless of reasoning, she couldn’t shake the fear and the regrets that were draining the life out of her as she sat waiting.

"I just don't want to lose him Isa... I c-can't," she muttered sadly.

"Why didn't you tell him? Tell him the truth. This wasn't about his duty as chief. Why didn't you ask him to stay for you?"

"YOU KNOW WHY!" Zarah yelled at her, taking her anxieties and frustrations out on her friend.

Adisa jumped up, matching Zarah’s intensity and anger. "No, actually Zarah I don't! I don't know why you deny yourself love and happiness at every turn? I don't know why you think so lowly of yourself. I don't know why you continue to stifle your hopes, dreams and ambitions because of others’ opinions of you. But I do know that a life like that will never fulfill you I do know that M'Baku makes you happy, helps you feel whole. I do know that he loves you. Why can't you just take that leap? You are afraid, I understand that, but the things in this life that are worth it make us afraid. The love of your life told you he might die today and you just let him go without telling him what he means to you? Explain that to me! Help me understand!"

"I am not like you Adisa! Strong, fearless. If by some miracle he returns to me, I won't lose him as a friend to test out your theory that he loves me. I am not the girl he falls in love with, I am not the girl who gets the chief."

"But you could be. You could change the way you think about yourself, your actions and be that girl. You are denying yourself the opportunity to even try."

She started to respond when a loud rasp against her door stopped her. She whipped it open to reveal her brother, who looked exhausted but otherwise unharmed. "Come with me."

"Wait, where is he?"

He grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of the house, "Just come, quickly."

Zarah and Adisa quickly hopped into the carriage that took far too long to make it up the winding roads to the Lodge. Zarah tapped her knee furiously through the ride, impatiently looking out the carriage window for the Hanuman statues. Adisa squeezed her hand every once in a while to assure and comfort her but it did little. She wouldn’t be able to calm herself until she saw him, saw the life in his eyes.

Surely N'Danna isn't taking me to see his dead body without warning. That would be just cruel, she told herself, trying to stomp out the anxiety in her mind. She didn't wait for the carriage to fully stop as she jumped out and partially ran to the Lodge. She started to head to the throne room when N'Danna stopped her.

"First, breathe," he commanded. She did so, not realizing she was holding it in this whole time. She felt loose, less like she was on the verge of a heart attack. "He is in his quarters."

"As?" she asked, knowing her brother would understand the question. Her brother's expression didn't change, his deep brown eyes gave nothing away as he stared at her.

"You will see."

She nodded before racing down the hall toward M'Baku's private quarters, not waiting to be announced or allowed in. Kide simply slid out of her way as she tore the door open.

"Za!" M'Baku exclaimed as he shifted to sit up in bed. He looked exhausted, she noted the bruises and wounds littering his torso. She tried to ignore the desire that bubbled at the sight of him in nothing but his boxers. Somehow after a battle, he was even sexier to her. But now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. They didn’t say anything, she just stood there and watched the healer tending to his wounds, trying to think of something appropriate.

"How is he?" Zarah asked timidly. It wasn't really her place but she didn't know what else to say.

"He will live. Just needs some salve on these wounds and sometime in the hot springs for the soreness."

"Thank you Healer Femi, Zarah can attend to my injuries for the rest of the evening. I will call should I need any additional assistance."

He nodded and bowed before exiting, "My lady." Zarah offered him a small smile before the door closed behind him.

"I am not a doctor you know? And who says I want to attend to your injuries? I am still mad at you." She asked, pacing below the foot of his bed.

"You can't be that mad at me or you wouldn't have come," he offered.

Zarah laughed, "N'Danna didn't give me many choices as he basically dragged me out of our parents' home my lord." She paused, "Or is it your grace? Am I in the presence of the new King of Wakanda?"

He shook his head. Zarah raised an eyebrow, "You don't seem all that disappointed by that fact?"

He shrugged, the gesture clearly painful. "Ritual combat is ordained by the Gods. It was not Hanuman’s will for me to win so I didn’t win. There isn't much to it other than that. I said my piece, I was defeated."

Zarah nodded, picking up the container of salve and walking over to his side. She grasped his chin gently and tilted his head to get a better look at the deep cut on his forehead. He watched her deliberate and gentle ministrations as she spread the healing cream on the cut and his bruises before covering some with bandages.

"Are you disappointed?" He asked.

Her hand stilled on the side of his face as she studied him for a moment. She could hear it beneath the deep timbre of his voice, a hint of uncertainty and fear. "No, I asked you to return, you returned. Our people need you M'Baku. That is all that matters to me. Your survival will never be a disappointment."

She continued adding ointment and bandages to the wounds that needed it. He knew a healer could do a better job, and so did she, but he just wanted to be close to her. He enjoyed the intimacy even if it was fleeting. He couldn't have her always but he could share this quiet moment with her. She worked in silence with extreme concentration, offering small apologies to every wince that escaped his lips. He didn't accept them though, the comfort she brought outweighed his pain. She started to pack up her things and turn to leave when he grabbed her small wrist.

"Stay."

"M'Baku... that is not appropriate. You know what they’ll say... and your brother," she argued weakly. She had spent the night in M'Baku's room before and every time, her parents would somehow find out and give her a verbal lashing about appearances and tradition. They never bothered M'Baku, he was chief and could do as he liked. But her parents were right, their platonic relationship sometimes bled into inappropriate territory, ruining their hopes of marrying her off to his brother.

"I don’t care about appropriate. Your chief is asking you to stay Zarah. Don’t deny me this. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please." He tugged on her arm, pulling her closer to him. She knew what that admission took, the vulnerability needed to admit he needed her. She knew she couldn’t deny him now, not after that.

"Fine. Only for a bit." She walked around the bed and settled next to him, his arm lightly draped over her side as they laid. She promised herself that she would only stay as long as it took for his signature snores to kick in and then she would head home. But soon, the warmth of his body and the security of his arms lured her to sleep, fears of her parents forgotten.

****

The next few days were a whirlwind. T’Challa was king, died at the hands of a long-lost American cousin and then alive again. She didn’t want to say she was shocked that M’Baku saved his life in the first place, M’Baku was far from a cruel person. But to deny the heart-shaped herb and help bring T’Challa back to life, most people in Wakanda would not have had that compassion for their "enemies." But it was as he said, "A life for a life." But now it seemed like M’Baku was ready to have T’Challa indebted to him. She listened to him outline the choices before them at an emergency council meeting, where he would decide whether the Jabari should involve themselves in a conflict that was not theirs.

"We should leave him be. You shouldn’t have saved him in the first place. The boy made his bed, he ought to lie in it," Elder Imani, Zarah’s mother, said angrily, spurred on by calls of agreement from the leaders of the fishermen faction.

"I must agree. It is not our way to involve ourselves in the ways of the lowlanders. If he wants his crown back, he should take it on his own. " N’Danna said. He had no love for the Panthers or cared who sat on the throne.

"Maybe it is time we concern ourselves with the ways of all Wakanda. T’Challa is right. If we let the usurper remain on the throne, the Jabari could be next in his reign of terror," Zarah argued back, shrinking slightly at the glares directed at her from her parents.

"You lack honor and respect for tradition! Have you forgotten why we isolated ourselves in this mountains to begin with? The Panthers have no respect for our ways or our God!" Elder Asante called back.

"Maybe because we have had no respect for theirs. Lord M’Baku says King T’Challa is willing to make the effort. Just because we have been this way in the past, doesn’t mean we have to remain this way." Adisa’s father interjected, winking at Zarah and giving her a nod of encouragement. She was grateful for voices like Adisa’s parents on the tribe’s council. They valued tradition while understanding that things could still change.

"We are both Wakandans and Jabari. There is space for both, space to love and respect the traditions and history of both. Centuries of isolation don't have to continue simply because that is the way it has been. King T’Challa isn’t to blame for the actions of his ancestors nor are we beholden to the actions of ours. It is time we consider a new way, a new path forward," she stated passionately.

Zarah stared straight ahead at M’Baku, refusing to acknowledge both the affirming and critical side comments and noises that erupted after her comments. She knew she only had to convince one person. Her family was as traditional as Jabari could be and N’Danna was liberal in many things but believed firmly in their isolation. They would never agree to this. But she understood a fundamental principle as an engineer: just because something works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved. They operated fine on their own but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be better.

M’Baku only had eyes for her as he doled our orders. "Elder Amari and General N’Danna, round up as many soldiers as you can within the next 15 minutes and meet me in front of the Lodge."

Zarah’s father jumped up, his chair almost toppling over beside him. "My lord, I beg you to reconsider! We do this and we will be fighting their battles or them forever. We elders are here for a reason. Heed our council for once."

"I have made my decision and that decision is final. The Jabari will no longer watch from the shadows. We will affect the change we want to see at the table, with the rest of Wakanda. That will be our way moving forward. Thank you all for your time."

The elders saluted him, half approaching him to affirm his choice while the other half, including Zarah’s parents, angrily stalked out.

Zarah and M’Baku shared a brief but tight hug before he started to walk out, preparing for yet another battle.

"Things are about to change around here. Are you ready for that?" She called after him.

He barked out his boisterous laugh. "Change is a good thing Zarah. Are you ready?" he called back over his shoulder.

She nodded to herself. Change is a good thing, she repeated internally. She walked out of the throne room with a renewed sense of excitement for the future. If the Jabari were about to take a leap after centuries of doing something a certain way, why couldn’t she?

****

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @great-neckpectations @missmohnique @jellybean531

#black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #black panther fics #snowfall #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku x oc

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toaquiprashippar · 5 years

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My Rewatch Notes :)

Hiiiiii guys!

I know everyone’s been doing their own rewatch and I’m sure none of the things I’ll write here will be news but I just thought I would share a few things I noticed as I watched everything. I think It’s actually my first COMPLETE rewatch, I freaking loved it. I just finished it and I’m in tears. BUT I did take some notes and commented on them here, so here goes nothing. LOL

SEASON 1

I love how when Jon claims he’s not a Stark, he finds his direwolf which is the ultimate proof yuup he is one.

The fact that Robert threatens Ned with the very things Joffrey does after? Damn, this show is cruel.

Maester Aemon��s words tends to stay with Jon and I bet your ass he will think back to Maester Aemon’s words on how honor is nothing compared to the love of a family. He thought Ned would always choose honor because he always did the right thing, yet he compromised his honor for Jon, which Jon thought he would neeeever…I know he’ll be upset at first but have you ever considered how deeply this will strike him? How he will realize he’s been deeply loved this entire time?

SEASON 2

Was not a bad season, actually it was a very good one but I didn’t take many notes here, sorry.

But we cannot avoid mentioning the House of the Undying, Dany does not touch the throne and goes to what it looks like the Wall. Do notice that when she’s in the throne room, The Red Keep seems to be destroyed. Not like it was in s7, but maybe how it will be in s8? But she does change her course to go to what her heart’s desire, love, family. She is so happy to see her former husband and her baby, but she leaves them because she knows they’re not real. The dragons call her and she returns to them, it doesn’t mean she’ll never get to the throne room again or that she will never rule, it means that had other priorities at some point, but her children reminded her of reality and she went back for them. I’m saying this because people love to use this as a foreshadowing for her not becoming a Queen. So if you’re going there, I am as well.

SEASON 3

Arya telling Gendry he can be her family is a total foreshadowing to me and no one will ever change my mind but you are allowed to rub it in my face if s8 ends and they’re not together, although you’ll be making fun of a sad shipper.

Littlefinger actually describes many of the upcoming deaths as he speaks to Sweetrobin, I nearly fell off my chair the moment I realized that one LOL SO FREAKING CLEVER, It’s one of the reasons why I love this show.

SEASON 4

Tyrion’s speech at his trial is one of the best scenes of the entire show. Of any character! That’s it, thanks for coming to season 4 and my ted talk.

SEASON 5

Tyrion asks Ser Jorah when will they go back to build cities like Valyria, I thought: “Hmmmmmm, maybe a hope for the future? Nothing is said without a reason at this amazing show.”

I really hope Jaime saying he wants to die in the arms of the woman he loves does not mean that I get to see Jaime dying in Brienne’s arms. Or else there’ll be tears. LOADS. Like hours of it.

This one is nothing new, I just wanted to point out that Jon refused a beautiful woman like Melisandre because he was still in love with Ygritte, yet…he slept with Daenerys. Y’all know where I’m going with this but I just would not miss the opportunity to point it out! :D

It’s pretty obvious by now, but I loved how Sam assured Olly that Jon always comes back, maybe this was a foreshadowing for only S6E2, but who knows, for s8? A fangirl can dream.

SEASON 6

Theon says he will never be able to make amends for the things that he’s done for the Starks, maybe he will…in s8? I know he’s saved Sansa and that’s a good way to redeem yourself, but he was partially to blame for Robb and Catelyn’s deaths (he betrayed and weakened Robb’s campaign), Rickon’s as well since he only ends up where he did because he escaped Theon in the first place. Maybe this is how he goes? If he does at all, I mean. Maybe he either saves Bran or Sansa? Just thought it was worth mentioning.

Tommen tells Cersei all the things he should have done to the High Sparrow, and some of those stuff like killing the man and destroying the Sept, our Mad Queen actually does, so I thought that was actually a clever and discreet one.

Olenna tells Cersei she’s alone, surrounded by thousands of enemies, left by her brother and all the family she had. She asks Cersei what would she do, kill everyone? Well, I bet she’ll try at some point in s8, and I though this sounded like a proper foreshadowing. I’ll let you guys decide for yourselves.

Is it just me or we get to the see the face the Waif wears as she attack Arya on the bridge when she first meets the Hall of Faces?

Arya deciding who she is, yup, I cried AGAIN.

One of my biggest problems with Sansa was her behavior towards the Battle of the Bastards, she could have saved maaaaany lives just by saying a few words. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and mine of her changed after 6.09, not gonna lie.

Sansa murdering Ramsay was probably one of my favoirte Sansa moments of all show.

SEASON 7

Arya amazingly starts the season with the beeeeautiful words: “leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.”, right? Well, next episode Olenna clears things up telling Danny is no sheep, she’s a dragon, therefore to be a dragon. If Dany is no sheep, then a diehard fan can assume she’s safe? Or not and just ignore me LOL

Jaime being told Cersei will be the death of him by Olenna kind of breaks my heart because fuck she will :( That’s a sad but accurate foreshadowing to me, honestly. PLUS: ‘TELL CERSEI, I WANT HER TO KNOW IT WAS ME’ will always be one of the best quotes in Game of Thrones!

Jon punching Littlefinger has nothing to do with him being in love with Sansa, he’s protecting the sister he knows been through enough shit, especially when it comes to men. Sorry to burst some shippers bubble.

Melisandre letting us know Varys and her will be killed this season, WAY TO SPOILER THE SHOW, bitch. LOL

WHY THE FUCK WOULD THE HOUND THROW STONES AT THESE BITCHES? Sandor, bitch, I expected more from you.

Drogon is so close to the NK, and Rhaegal is not far behind, why would he attack Viserion? Maybe because he knows something we don’t and I’m eager to learn. It’s not a foreshadowing, just a questioning.

The way Rhaegal cries in the back as Jon gets pissed and attacks it’s almost as if we’re seeing the physical manifestation of his pain, it’s his pure connection to his Targaryen blood. That scene is amazing and I don’t have words to say how this “little” thing affected me.

The way everyone is shocked beyond words when Viserion dies is amazing, nothing is deadlier than dragons in the world of Ice and Fire, and for them to see a mighty creature as a dragon to be murder by this villain, shows them how helpless they are and how serious the threat is, if a dragon is not invincible, what does that make them? If a dragon can be killed, anyone else can as well. It’s a short moment but one that says a lot to me. Powerful af.

ONE WORD: CLEGANEBOWL.

“Jon is young and unmarried. Daenerys is young and unmarried…together they would be difficult to defeat.” I would love to take that as a foreshadowing, so keep it mind, Cersei and everyone else out for my babes.

BTW, can we talk about Ser Jorah’s ‘fuck me’ face when Dany tells that she and Jon will sail together, AND YOU CAN SEE THE HIDDEN MISCHIEF IN JON’S EYES! LOL I live for that.

Jon telling Theon how he does not have to choose, that he’s both a Greyjoy and a Stark is a delicious foreshadowing to me on how he’ll come in terms with his own parentage reveal in time, he’ll see that he is not only a Stark and a Targaryen but also a Snow, and for him to somehow be in peace with it. I can’t wait, honestly.

I think it makes sense that Arya and Sansa won’t like Dany at first, Daenerys is beautiful and charming, they will think Jon is in love or smt, I mean…can you blame them for being wary of anyone outside their family? But I bet all of your asses that in time, they’ll see Dany for what she truly is, not just worthy, but family as well. That line at the end of 7.06 between Dany and Jon could very well mean this! :)

So, just to point out a thought: Jaime and Cersei’s child will not be born and the dead will probably come South. UGH, season 8 cannot come soon enough!

“He loved her...and she loved him.” But sure, political!j0n

In a season that defines identities, such as Arya with her ‘Home’ theme, Bran claiming to be the Three Eyed Raven and not Bran anymore, Sansa to be totally comfortable with her place as Lady of Winterfell… Jon leaves Winterfell and goes to Dragonstone (to seek dragonglass but we know what he finds…love, and we find his identity). Not to mention he finishes the season going back to Winterfell, but also with the promise of going back South again to fight for Dany. If that’s not a claim on his identity, IDK WHAT IS.

It's hardly a final project for a degree or masters but I thought it was worth writing down a few things that caught my attention. Whatever I did not write, I was probably either too lazy or too comfortable lying down to take notes.

Anyway, what do you guys think?

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

#bnha 297 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #overhaul #muscular #moonfish #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #horikoshi where is gyges!!#your silence is defeaning #first midnight and now this #I am beside myself #r.i.p.

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wingsporkhalo · 4 years

Text

He’s Mine: A BakuDeku Fic Spork- Chapter 2

Here I am with chapter 2 of this mess!! For those of you who are new, I read a terrible My Hero Academia fanfiction and made funny commentary on it with some good buddies. Chapter 1 is here! https://wingsporkhalo.tumblr.com/post/190957730961/hes-mine-a-bakudeku-fic-spork-chapter-1

Support me on Patreon! I am poor!! https://www.patreon.com/WingSongHalo And check out my YouTube channel, where you can see video sporks!! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCgTMFf7W6SyWoZdpqY9ZdPw/

Last time, the story started in the middle of an inexplicable fight, Izuku gave Shoto his phone number and had multiple houses, and Katsuki told Izuku he doesn’t want Izuku to call anyone by their first name but him! Because being controlling is romantic, right?? (Sarcasm.)

In today’s chapter, Katsuki attempts to confess his “love,” Izuku is forced to dress as a girl, Shoto kidnaps Izuku, I rant about people uke-fying my favorite characters, and Kirishima offers some terrible advice!

Special thanks to my dear friends @the-wizard-l, @kittykatz009, @satsuneade, and Phos for co-commentating!

Without further ado, let’s move ahead to Chapter 2!

My friend Phos: It’s reviewing the same stuff!!! What?? Me: but Phos!! This time it's in a different Point of View, though you'd never know that from the lack of detail!!

Um what am I doing here .

[sigh] I ask myself that every day, sonny

Why dose? Uh, because it keeps you from taking too much medication?

Why dose my chest feel weird when I see deku with half'n'half.

Uhhh... maybe you know he's lactose intolerant and you're concerned for him as a friend? ....naaahhh

Phos: “Damed nerd” Me: I mean, from what i know of Bakugou's character, he always instantly regrets talking to Izuku Why would he be stuttering in his own head??! Also, what the fuck is damhed? Is it like being a shithead, but less profane?? Disided. Uhhhh... I guess that's when... something has two sides? I guess??

After I payed for the thing I wanted,

God this detail!! I'm so moved!!

Why was Izuku just running around? Was he late? I thought you were 10 minutes early?

I catched up to him

Sure. With your umbrella? Were you using it to travel like fucking Mary Poppins??

“Ahh” he said falling on the wet ground

I love how unemotional that is.

"DEKU HEAR" --the sound of me being completely out of character? Oh yes. I hear it

Wh--? What bottom of his uniform was he grabbing? I??? I hope you mean like the edge of the blazer?? My friend Jaz: Bottom of his shoes Phos: Bottom of the uniform might mean bottom of the pant leg— Oh Me: I mean, valid interpretations all of them, but it really sounds like he's grabbing ass if you just say "the bottom of his uniform" because that's... where the bottom is... moving on.

I don't get it. Has Bakugou supposedly found Izuku's stare cute this whole time, or is this a recent thing? It's so outside the realm of possibility that it's not computing

We walked to school together.

Oh my, how exciting! I wondered what was going to happen next!! And you told it so efficiently, with as few words as possible! Bravo!!

So like, WERE you getting closer or did it just FEEL like you were?

I feel like if their faces ever touched, reality would just collapse in on itself because the laws of nature would be violated

(either that or it would have to be a "one of them literally fell from a great distance onto the other one" situation)

(Which I guess isn't too far fetched since they get thrown around a lot)

Again the damh nerd is here.

Did I say something wrong?

SINCE WHEN HAVE YOU EVER CARED???

Ohhhhkay I'm just. So confused. WHY is Bakugou suddenly aware of his "feelings," WHY is he suddenly so much nicer, and WHY is he just deciding all of a sudden to confess his love?? That's the kind of thing you WRESTLE with, if you accidentally fall in love with the dude you've hated for like 11 of your 15 years of life!! My friend Wiz, evidently affected by the reality-warping powers of this fic: jhwbebhjfewjhbwfjh

Uh why did he have to come at a time like this.

B... because the bell is going to ring?...

Wow, I wish I could communicate entire sentences with just my face. Seems like a useful talent. Maybe that guy in class 1-B with the speech bubble for a head would be best at that

"Kacchan here" Why yes, he is here. Not sure why the sudden caveman-speak, though

Then half'n'half went of with my deku

[sits there staring at nothing for 5 seconds] [shakes self] Sorry I was just reeling at the sheer ridiculousness of everything about that sentence

I felt kind of bad leaving kacchan behind.

Then it just transitions to the next scene because fuck internal monologue I guess Jaz: When did he become Your Deku? Me: THEIR TEACHER NEVER SHOWED UP??? BITCH WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO AIZAWA??? Also, wouldn't it naturally fall to Iida to take over and decide their next course of action, as class rep? Why are the girls all hijacking the class??? Jaz: They hogtied Iida, of course Me: They're putting their names on a stick... oh god... tHEY'RE ORGANIZING A DEATH TOURNAMENT "Deku come with me" "I'd love to but that's not the pairing of this fic" Jaz: Dhdududidifhf

I love how Izuku has no agency in this fic; he just goes with whoever and does whatever, helpless against the whims of those around him. And by love, I mean hate. I fucking hate that.

Uh *sigh*

Wow that's a mood. Jaz: Wtf is even going on Me: lskjdlkksjdf Not that Izuku wouldn't dress up as a girl if someone told him to, but I think he'd usually at least like a reason for it "Izuku the All Might Cheer Squad is missing a member; could you sub in?" "[throws everything off his desk and stands up at once] I've been waiting for this moment" My friend Satsu, just arriving: Finally caught up and I'm CACKLING Me: Somebody get Ochaco to Recovery Girl!! She's taken a blow to the face and there is BLEEDING aH THANK U SATSU <3 Satsu: HI MOM, ((note: my server calls me Mom. LOL)) lol this is so bad 😂 😂 Wiz: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE JHBDJBH Me: Honestly, I think Izuku would be dreadfully embarrassed if everyone stared at him no matter WHAT he was wearing Satsu: Yeah but like, why uraraka suddenly dressed him like that??? What is the thinking process that that would be okay in the school omg Me: “Why would you do this to me uraraka-san“ Wiz: I’m crying Me: "Look, it was in my contract that I had to appear in 50 badfics a week. I'm sorry, Deku" "[hangs his head] No that's fair"

Satsu, didn't you know?? This is just what happens when the teacher doesn't show up Satsu: Aw damn, if I knew ;-;

Wiz: I am. So confused wjhbfe Satsu: They all ran of Me: he stoped, but I can't.

Then I ran of

It was a run of girlishness and embarrassment, I'm guessing. Did they all say the slashes, or? Jaz: Did Todoroki just kidnap Deku? Wiz: These things happen Satsu: Oh dear, the last sentence My eyes Me:

Izuku ran of

--Shame and frilliness--

Mabey we went to far

"Sorry, I can't go with you this weekend. Mah bae and I are going to far." "To where?" "Far. It's this restaurant across town" Wiz: jhwbewehbj Me: What the--why was Izuku running for his life? WHAT DID HE DO Shoto: [pushes Izuku] Izuku: thank you! Shoto: uh... s-sure... should I be concerned that you just thanked me for shoving you Izuku: Probably! Wiz: MOOD Satsu: Kdbdkdbfkjf Me: What the--why's Shoto rubbing Izuku's head? Is it a good luck ritual or has Izuku turned into a puppy? Wait, no, he still has hands. I'M CONFUSED Phos: I still don’t understand the dress and wig.Well, girls uniform. Satsu: You’re not alone with that lol Me: Look, sometimes ya see an adorable messy-haired befreckled shonen protagonist and ur just overwhelmed with the desire to see him in drag....... I guess? Phos: I mean Yeah that sounds exactly like what this fic is doing Me: It sounds to me like they wanted to write moments where Shoto and Katsuki would get to interact with Izuku while he's a delicate, soft little maiden [rolls eyes] Wiz: :’)) Me: STOP UKE-FYING MY IZUKU, YOU FETISHIST Satsu: They always do that to my dear main characters :( Me: Me pulling these badfic authors up by their collar: listen here you yaoi sluts... my son Izuku is more manly than 90 other shonen protagonists put together... Jaz: Omggggg WING Phos: "yaoi sluts" I will never have a chance to use that and man I’m upset about that Satsu: Heck yeah! Me: LSJKFLKSDJ PHOS Satsu: MOOD Phos: I’m not in a lot of fandoms where yaoi is the norm in badfic! Me: Really? It kind of seems like it's the norm in every fandom nowadays. Look I love a lot of slash pairings, but yaoi I have a problem with. Yaoi is fetishization, yaoi is semes and ukes and one of them has to be "the girl" essentially and it's gross Phos: Agreed! Me: ANYWHO [steps off my soapbox] Wiz, a bit behind on the messages: YAOI SLUTS JHBFJHF

No body saw him, but several pairs of eyes did. Three of them were Shoji's. Wiz: Wing I love you Me:

Something told me he went out side

Was the something lazy writing? I LOVE U TOO WIZ <3 <3 <3 Satsu: It's cracking me uo that it says "Bakago P. O. V" Me: Does... does this person honestly think that's how you spell "damn"? I... wh? The kinds of mistakes this person is making are not really things I see from people who speak English as a second language--tenses are more or less usually correct, etc--so I'm just. How. How do you get it wrong that many times

"Ahh" I heard someone screaming

Really? Cuz when you write it like that it looks more like what you'd say while sinking into a hot bath after a long day. Satsu: Wait, didn't Todoroki kidnap him? Where did he go? Phos: He’s been consumed by the love triangle void Satsu: He just vanished lol Me: Yeah he was like "finally, my Love Interest™️ is in drag, so I must make the most of this and Romance him" and fucked the hell off dragging poor Izuku with him Satsu: LMAO PHOS Me: SLAKFJDLKJ PHOS Phos: bows Thank you Me:

It was Deku being chased by boys

The Izuku Midoriya tag on pixiv, basically

I picked up deku and put him over my shoulder.

This is the second BakuDeku fic I've seen where Bakugou throws Izuku over his shoulder like a goddamn bag of potatoes and it's portrayed as Romantic. Wiz: w h y Satsu: I'm still wondering, is this supposed to be BakuDeku or TodoDeku? Or both????? Phos: Both, I think Me: I think it’s both, yeah Satsu: Aw, dang. My poor baby. :( Phos: I’d bet real money this doesn’t end properly, like it’s not finished Me: yeah the story is technically called "he's Mine! (tododeku kacdeku) (boku no hero academia)" Satsu: Kfbdkfjf jf Wiz: Oh joy Me: which, like, first off, who the FUCK calls it Kacdeku? I'm pretty sure I heard my cat say that while throwing up once Wiz: gfthghuji Phos: Adobe (That was a corrected keysmash) Satsu: I was about to say about kacdeku veing a very weird ship name lol Ah fuck, I always end up changing one letter or eating a whole word Me: "ADOBE" IS THE BEST KEYSMASH LSKJDKFSL mkay SO I don't think Bakugou would literally kill those boys, but he would definitely threaten it Also, how is Izuku supposed to get changed? Did he bring his other clothes with him??

Phos: BOLD ITALIC AUTHORS NOTE Wiz: jhbjhbjhk Me: I... guess he had his uniform? ALSO YES, ONE OF MY FAVORITES, DEFS A SQUARE ON MY BADFIC BINGO Phos:

Or ... fuck him

Wow I hate this Me: I do not remember Bakugou ever looking like a lost cat, nor do I think a lost cat is a very good descriptor because cats just kinda hide or come up to people and yell when they're lost. ...Actually that second one does describe Bakugou; never mind. Katsukitty "ALL THEM BOYS" SHEEEEE-OOOT! IZUKU DONE GOT HIMSELF A HUMDINGER OF A SOUTHERN ACCENT, NOW, AHYUH-HYUH!!! I walked on a head? Wow, that takes talent. Most people use their feet but I guess if you wanna be Extra

I all ways want to force him

I mean, there are a lot of ways; do you really have to want all of them?

to force him agents a wall

Whoa, what? Where did these agents come from?? Are they investigating Todoroki's sudden disappearance?? Satsu: In which universe Bakugo is nicer with Deku more than with Kirishima Me:

and kiss him passionately

jfc. I just... hhhh. No.

Or... fuck him

Yeah that's about right. Katsuki: [thinks of Deku] well, fuck him :\ Satsu: LMAO LFBFKFHFKFB Phos: Scbsbsfddb Me: Also, Satsu, you summoned my favorite rocky cinnamon roll

Satsu: Also I don't remember what part of season 3 are you refering to dear author lol JUST, PLEASE STOP WITH THE DAMH ALREADY Phos: What even is that page.... Me: So I guess I should be surprised that Kirishima is just suddenly here, but considering he seems to follow Bakugou everywhere, I'm not.

"I've seen you with midoria and I thought I could help"

What's midoria? Is it a medical condition? "Man, I came down with a nasty case of midoria. I was in the bathroom like seven times last night" If that's the case, Kirishima could help by just giving him some Pepto. Satsu: Kdbejqhevjdvfjd Wiz: pfffft Me:

"Well for one change your..."

Mind? Clothes? Tires once every four years or 10,000 miles? Satsu: Your brain cells!??? Me:

"well be less angry and more happy with him"

WOW!! STARTLINGLY ASTUTE ADVICE!! IF ONLY SOMEONE COULD HAVE PINPOINTED BEFORE WHY THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO STRAINED!! YOU DOIN' THE LORD'S WORK, AUTHOR!! Phos: Adsvads Me:

"Are you telling me to change who I am!!"

"Well... yeah, kinda. I mean, I love ya, bro, but your attitude kinda sucks." "........Okay, fair"

"Unless you want him to be with todoroki!?"

Uhhh, does what Izuku wants factor into this at ALL, or...? Also, sure, if someone doesn't like you, just change who you are! Works every time, at least until you forget which version of yourself you were using with each person!! Wiz: yaaaaaaaaayyyy Me:

Damh him

Uhhh... okay. [points to self] Wing, me.

"Fine I'll change but only when I'm around deku!"

Sure! Sounds like the basis of a healthy relationship! (: The last decade of abuse doesn't matter!! Wiz: :')))))

===========================================================

AND THAT IS ALL FOR CHAPTER 2! Next time, Shoto makes terrible jokes and lies to Izuku’s mother, Izuku and Shoto go on a date, and our helpless damsel protagonist gets attacked by a villain!! Next post will be up very soon! Thanks for reading <33333

#badfic #bad fanfiction #wingsporkhalo #hes mine #my hero academia #bnha #fanfiction spork

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uas-fics · 5 years

Text

Title: Soulmate Highs Rating: T Summary: Everyone has a soulmate tell. As Stan finds out one day, his is that whatever his soulmates write on their skin appears on his as well. He should be overjoyed, but instead, he’s just nervous his soulmates will find him boring… Ships: Stunny (Stan x Butters x Kenny) Other: For @polyshipprompts Polyship Week, day 2, Soulmate AU.

Oof thought I had an extra day to work on this but nope, I was wrong. >>, Sorry if it seems rushed or lacks the deeper nuisance and trope deconstruction of my other soulmate works. This one is mostly just for an excuse to write this ship.

—-

“Well,” Kyle took a breath, “that’s a dick alright.”

Stan couldn’t keep his eyes off the crude drawing of a penis across the underside of his arm. One moment, he had nothing there, then the next a line appeared. As if by magic, the rest of the appendage slowly grew across his skin.

“I can’t believe it,” Stan muttered. He’d heard stories of this, but never thought he would experience it. This happened to a second cousin’s hairstylist or a friend of a friend of an aunt’s stepmother. People you didn't ever meet. People who were lucky and excentric. This didn’t happen to normal people like Stan.

“Me neither.” Kyle prodded the drawing with his finger. “You’ve really got your soulmate’s writing on your arm.”

Stan slapped his best friend’s hand away. “They’re not writing to me. I bet they don’t even know it happened.”

Stan covered the drawing, his mind buzzing. Everyone had some way to find their soulmates. Those were the soulmate tells. Some people swapped eye colors. Some were color blind until they touched their soulmate. Some shared fingerprints.

Stan had always assumed he would be someone who shared a birthmark with his soulmate, and, given how small and awkwardly placed his birthmark was on the back of his upper thigh, he would never have a chance to find his soulmate anyway.

Having his soulmate’s drawing just appear threw that theory out the window.

Only one in a few thousand had a soulmate tell like this! A direct line of communication right on his skin!

“I really, really can’t believe this.” Stan felt a goofy smile spread across his face. “I never thought I’d get this lucky.”

“Yeah,” Kyle crossed his legs on the carpet, “you’ve got a really good lot in your love life, Stan. I’m happy for you.”

Stan winced at Kyle’s tone. Kyle wasn’t upset or mad or even jealous, but behind his happiness for Stan, there was a tinge of bitterness.

On Kyle’s wrists were the words ‘thank you, please, come again’. They were either his soulmate’s first words to him or their last. Kyle had long ago adopted a pessimistic outlook that they had to be the first and last, and he would walk out of whatever store they worked at never see his soulmate again.

“Hey, Kyle, I’m sorry,” Stan started, but Kyle held up his hand.

“Dude, it’s fine. Are you going to reply?” Kyle changed the topic back to Stan’s soulmate.

Stan nodded, craning his head around to find a pen or marker. Spotting one under his bed, he moved to his side and reached out his fingers to roll it close enough to grab it.

He spun the blue sharpie in his fingers, thinking what to say. Maybe the direct approach was best. Something like 'Hello? Is this my soulmate?“ Or maybe he could draw a dick back. Give his soulmate the first impression that he was a chill dude.

Before Stan could decide, teal blue words scrawled across his arm under the dick drawing.

"Wow! Did you draw this? Are you my soulmate?” the words said, with an arrow pointing to the drawing and a wide smiling face.

Stan frowned, twisting his arm around. Why would his soulmate reply to their drawing? Unless…

The original purple ink wrote under the teal blue, “I guess I am! If I knew today my arm drawings would reach my soulmate, I would have drawn something more classy than a dick! lol”

“You don’t just have one soulmate, you have two.” Kyle gasped. “Shit, dude. Now you have to reply.”

Stan nodded, uncapping the marker with his teeth. He spat the cap out and held the marker over his arm, just under purple’s response.

“Wowie, golly, and here I thought I’d never have a soulmate. I wasn’t born with weird eyes or marks or nothing. Where you?” Teal ended their question with an oversized question mark, right where Stan was about to write.

“I gotta mole in the shape of Louisiana on the bottom of my foot, but that’s it.” Purple drew a rough outline of the Pelican State.

“I’ve never been to Louisiana. I don’t think I’ve ever been off Hawaii.”

Stan sucked in a breath. “He’s from Hawaii?” He exclaimed as Purple wrote, “You’re from HAWAII?!?!?!”

“Yup!” Teal added a stick figure surfing on a wave.

Instead of replying directly, Purple drew sunglasses on the stick figure then added a speech bubble proclaiming, “Cool!”

Stan grinned at their antics. He was sure he’d like Purple’s personality, and Teal must have so many stories from living in a tropical paradise.

“So, are you going to eavesdrop or tell them?” Kyle asked, leaning back. He snapped a photo with his phone. A second later, Stan’s phone lit up with a SnapChat notification. Stan capped the marker and picked up his phone, already knowing what the notification was about.

“Local Love Struck Doofus To Scared to Talk To Soulmates. More At 10,” the caption on the picture read.

Kyle smirked as Stan flipped him the bird.

“I’ll talk to them, I just…I need to find the right time to jump into the conversation.” Stan twisted his arm to see the continuing conversation his soulmates were having.

“So where do YOU live?” Teal asked.

“I live in the Colorado mountains,” Purple added a winter hat to the surfing figure then a few snowflakes.

“Kyle, he lives in Colorado!” Stan scrambled to sit on his knees and shoved his arm in Kyle’s face. “In the mountains, like you do! Maybe you know him?”

“There are a lot of mountain towns,” Kyle fell back to keep Stan’s arm from his vision, “and besides, if he lives in South Park, too, he’ll definitely know about you. Everyone in South Park and Middle Park knows about 'Tegrity Farms. It’s where most of the town gets its weed.”

He waved his hand around as if clearing pot smoke from the room. “I guess that works out well for you, then. Having one live in the same state.”

Stan’s stomach fell to his knees. He hadn’t thought of that. What would his soulmates think that he lived on a cannabis farm? There is no way they wouldn’t think less of him for knowing how to make pot butter.

For probably the millionth time, Stan cursed his dad for moving them out of the mountains ten years ago when he was five to start 'living naturally and in one with nature.’

Stan tossed the marker onto his bed before flopping onto his stomach on the floor.

He held out his arm and stared at the conversation.

“Do you snowboard?! Sled? I’ve never seen snow before!” Teal wrote.

“Sledding yes, but not snowboarding. I know how to ski a little.” Purple added a bear surfing alongside the stick figure. “It’s pretty boring here. I like it like that, though.”

Teal started to write something, but Purple wrote over him with another question.

“What’s your name? We should probably know lol.”

“My name is Leopold, but everyone calls me Butters–it’s a long story.”

So Teal Ink was Leopold–Butters. It would take a while for Stan to get used to calling someone 'Butters,’ but he was sure he could do it if he had to.

“Butters? Like what’s on toast?”

The last few letters in 'toast’ curved up so they didn’t overlap a part of the earlier conversation.

“Brb, gonna wash my arm off,” Purple said in the middle of the penis drawing.

“Me too,” Teal added under.

“Well, this seems as good of break in the conversation as any,” Kyle commented, tracing the words on his wrist with his fingers. “Wait for them to wash it off, then say you’re here too.”

Stan chewed his lip. “Yeah, maybe…”

Hearing the nervous tone in his voice, Kyle rolled his eyes. He stood and brushed his pants off.

“Where are you going?” Stan demanded to know as Kyle strolled towards the door. “ You can’t leave me while this is going on.”

“I’m coming right back.” Kyle pulled open the door. “You know my mom doesn’t let me eat at your house. Do you want me to pick you up anything while I’m out?”

Stan sighed. In retrospect, he should be glad he was able to keep up a friendship with Kyle at all after he moved away, but all the rules and regulations Mrs. Broflovski put on Kyle when he came down to visit were such pains in the ass.

“Yeah, there is a new gas station if you turn left and head East instead of back up towards South Park. They have that macha Monster I like and awesome chicken veggie pizza.” Stan pushed himself up to pick up his wallet from his desk. He took out a ten and handed it to Kyle.

Kyle nodded, pocketing the money. “Ok, macha monster, chicken veggie pizza. Got it. Don’t get another tattoo while I’m on a food run.” He smirked as Stan slapped a hand over his hip.

“That happened one time and you won’t let me live it down,” Stan muttered, tracing the poorly done paw print tattoo through his shirt. Some older kids from Stan’s school had invited them to a party, where Stan had been talked into being a canvas for an eleventh-grade amateur tattoo artist.

Kyle had tried to talk him out of it, but the artist was so pretty, Stan couldn’t say no and waited until Kyle left to grab something to eat back upstairs before allowing her to make the paw outline on his upper hip.

“Nope.”

As Kyle headed down the hall and the steps, Stan stuck his head out of his room to shout, “And get me a Twix, too.”

“Are you going to stress eat all night over this?” Kyle yelled back, the top of his head disappearing down the stairs.

“I just fucking might!”

“Stanley, language!” His mom shouted from downstairs.

After calling down an apology, Stan went back to his room and sat at his desk. He eyed the cup of pens, markers, and pencils. It would only take one mark for his worrying to end. If they were his soulmates, then what his family did for a living shouldn’t bother them too much, right?

Stan’s hand hovered over an uncapped ballpoint pen sitting straight up in the cup. His arm was clear of ink now. This was his chance.

Just as his fingers brushed the pen, Butters replied.

“That’s better and yes my nickname is Butters like what goes on toast ha-ha!”

“That’s awesome dude,” Purple replied a moment later. “My name’s Kenny btw.”

Stan dropped his arm to the desktop, heaving a sigh.

He couldn’t do it.

Resting his cheek on the cool wood of the desk, Stan watched his soulmates get to know more about each other, unaware of their third partner’s eyes on their words.

Butters and Kenny went on to fill up his arm several times with chit chat and doodles. Butters was quite the artist and covered his wrist with vines and flowers twice. Kenny was funny as hell and made Stan have to cover his mouth to keep quiet before his parents came barging in.

They seemed like amazing soulmates.

After erasing their arm conversations again, Butters asked, “Could you do me a favor Kenny?”

“Sure, what?” Kenny wrote back.

“I have a tattoo. I got it to piss off my parents last year. Do you have it now? Or does it only count if I get another?”

Stan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t even thought about if old ink still counted. He pulled up his shirt and stared at the faded green-black paw print.

“You have a tat? That’s sick dude! What is it? Where is it? I’ve always wanted one but couldn’t afford to go to a good place.”

“Thank you! I designed it myself. It’s on my left shoulder. Check yours!”

Heart pounding in his ears, Stan slowly rolled up his sleeve. Just before his shoulder, he stopped, shaking. Forcing courage through his body, he rolled it up completely to see a T-like shape in a box with the word 'Chaos’ written under it. Each of the word’s letters was in a different font style. Unlike Stan’s simple outline, this tattoo had shading that made the weird box shape look like metal.

“Oh, no…” Stan whimpered. He spun around and dove onto his bed where he left his phone. He didn’t bother to try texting. Pressing Kyle’s number, he held the phone up to his ear.

Three rings and Kyle picked up. “Yes, Stan?”

“Butters has a tattoo–and now I have one too. Another one. They’ll know I’m here when they see my tattoo.” Stan started to pace his room. “What do I do?”

“Just tell them! Who cares what they’re talking about. Just write on yourself that you’re their other soulmate and live happily ever after or whatever.” Kyle’s voice sounded irritated. “It’s not hard, Stan.”

“You don’t get it, Kyle! My family lives on a cannibis farm. I’m not funny or artistic like they are. I’m just…you know a normal joe. Nothing special.” Stan threw his arm out and brushed the back of his hand across his pen cup, knocking the whole thing over.

Pens and markers scattered on the floor, several rolling under the desk.

Stan swore, running his hand through his hair.

“Dude, I am not letting you have perfect access to meeting your soulmates and throwing it away because you’re a coward. Don’t make me take matters into my own hands, Stanley,” Kyle threatened.

“I am not a coward–”

The sound of coins and cash hitting a glass counter came through the phone.

“I have to help my love-struck, doofus best friend talk to his soulmates. Keep the change,” Kyle told someone. To Stan, he continued, “you have until I’ve driven back to 'Tridgey Farm to do it yourself, or I will sit on you and write it myself.”

Stan shuddered. He’d known Kyle since they were both in diapers. He could and would do what he threatened. No doubt about that. he would pin him down and write bluntly something like “This is your other soulmate’s best friend. He is too much of a wuss to talk to you two. His name is Stan.” right across his arm in black ink.

Stan slumped down in his chair, burying his face in his arms.

“Why can’t I have a colorblind soulmate tell or anything else? This isn’t fair…” Stan whined.

“Don’t know what to tell you. At least you know you’ll be able to meet yours and not walk out on them forever…” Kyle muttered bitterly. “Just–oh, shoot. That’s the clerk coming to my car. Well, you just got yourself another few minutes.”

He hung up before Stan could speak.

Stan repeatedly dropped his forehead against the desk. What was he going to do? He couldn’t let Kyle get here and do it. That would make him look like a total loser!

Deciding that reading Butters and Kenny’s conversation might calm him down, he rolled his head towards his arm.

A mark of blue ink ran down the back of his hand from his knuckles to just past his wrist.

“Did you do that? Are you ok?” Kenny asked, drawing an arrow to the blue streak.

“No, I didn’t draw that.” Butters drew a frowny face.

“Is there someone else here? Helloooooooo?”

Stan watched the final o and question mark appear on his skin. He heaved a sigh and sat up. He reached for a pen, only to remember he knocked the pen cup from his desk a moment before.

Shaking his head, he bent over and picked up the first pen he found.

“Ollie ollie oxen free!” Butters wrote. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Swallowing down his nerves, Stan pressed the pen to his skin.

“Sorry.” He wrote then added, “I’m Stan.”

“What?! So, there are three of us here? Triple soulmates?!” Butters then drew a big heart. “I woke up today thinking I had none and before noon I got three? How lucky!”

“Noon?�� Stan asked himself, then remember Hawaii was a few hours behind.

“Cool, man. How long have you been watching?” Kenny asked.

Stan considered lying that he had just woke up, but decided against it. Best foot forward didn’t involve lies.

“An hour? I saw the dick. I was,” Stan paused, “nervous.”

“Wow. That’s cute.”

He could almost hear the tease in Kenny’s words as if he had spoken them, but somehow he didn’t mind it. Instead, he wondered what they really sounded like, or even what they looked like. Kenny seemed like the kind of guy to have a lopsided smile. Butters probably spoke with his hands, Stan guessed.

The whole conversation he’d read, they had given vague descriptions of themselves. Both of them were blonds with blue eyes and his age, fifteen, but nothing else.

“It’s ok! I was nervous, too,” Butters made a smiley face, “but with three of us, will we have room on our arms anymore?”

“If we write really tiny…” Kenny let his handwriting grow smaller and smaller until the n and y were barely readable.

Stan snorted a laugh. In his tiniest handwriting, he asked, “Does anyone have a Discord or something?”

“I do! It’s ProfChaos172, my hamster is my pfp.” Butters announced with a picture of a hamster in a square box.

“I do but could you wait a few minutes? Don’t have wifi in the house,” Kenny admitted. “Gimme ten minutes to get to the library.”

“Wait, first, there is something I have to say if you even want to really include me in your lives.” Stan steeled himself. “Dad moved us to a pot farm when I was 5. Other than that I’m boring compared to you two…Idk if you want a boring soulmate like me.”

“A POT FARM?! HOLY SHIT!” Kenny drew a big, purple cannabis leaf. “Dude, that’s not boring.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to have a boring farm life no matter what farm you’re on,” Butters announced.

A weight lifted off Stan’s shoulders. With a smile on his lips, he placed his fingertips over the top of his soulmates’ last words. Knowing they wouldn’t think he was weird or boring because of his farm life, Stan wrote down his discord name and told Kenny he and Butters would wait ten minutes before attempting to contact each other.

Once Kenny wished them both goodbye, Stan bent down to turn on his computer. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the desk as the discord logo spun around. Updates, of course. It’ll take forever for all of them to download.

Leaning back, Stan took out his phone and pulled up Kyle’s contact. If Kyle was driving, should he just text him? Calling would be faster, but would Kyle even pick up? He only got his license a month ago and was a very careful driver.

Just as Stan went to open a text message, his phone rang. Kyle was calling him.

“Perfect,” Stan mumbled before answering, “Hey, Kyle, good news. You don’t have to hold me down. I did it.”

“Oh, yeah, cool for you, Stan. Good job,” Kyle replied absentmindedly.

“Kyle? You sound distracted?” Stan strained his ears. He couldn’t hear any engine rumbling or radio or the wind. Hadn’t Kyle left yet?

Someone asked a question, and Kyle covered the phone to answer.

“Kyle?” Stan shouted into the phone as discord finally loaded. He already had a request from ProfChaos172 waiting. His profile picture was a cute cream-colored hamster. It even had a little cape on. Stan made a note to send a picture of his dog Sparky right away. Did Kenny have any pets? That topic would be a great starting off point for all three of them to talk, and it wouldn’t be hard to steer the conversation that way, either.

“Stan, you are not going to believe what happened at the gas station.”

“You got the final punch in your free pizza card,” Stan guessed as he pulled up his file folder of Sparky pictures.

“No, better,” Kyle laughed. “Do you know Jimmy Valmer?”

“Yeah. He’s in my class. Funny guy.”

“He works at the gas station you sent me to, and do you know what his Soulmate tell is? It’s like mine, words on his wrist.” Kyle continued, excitement growing in his voice. “You know what the words are?” He didn’t give Stan time to answer. “'I have to help my love-struck, doofus best friend talk to his soulmates. Keep the change’.”

Stan furrowed his brow. “No. No way. Isn’t that what you said while you were on the phone a bit ago?”

“Uh-huh! And Jimmy told me 'Thank you, please come again’! Do you know what that means? We’re soulmates!” Kyle shouted. “I found my soulmate. Life is great!” Stan could almost see Kyle jumping to his feet as he announced his joy to the gas station parking lot.

Stan held the phone from his ear, but couldn’t help but smile. After years of moping and being bitter about it, Kyle ended up finding his soulmate after all. Stan would have to rub the irony of it in Kyle’s face sometime.

“Aren’t we just a lucky pair of boys tonight.” Stan chortled to himself. “Are you coming back here?”

“Nah, I’m staying in the parking lot to talk with Jimmy until I have to head back up the mountain. I called to tell you that so you didn’t worry,” Kyle explained. “I’ll pay you back for your pizza next time I see you.”

“No, it’s fine. Consider it a gift for urging me to talk to Kenny and Butters.” Stan smiled fondly at the computer screen. Only a couple more minutes now until Kenny showed up.

“Thanks, man,” Kyle replied. “I think I’m going to go now. Have fun chatting with your soulmates.”

“Have fun chatting with yours.” Stan hung up as a request to join a private group chat with ProfChaos174 and 6969SexyBeastMcCormick6969 appeared on his screen.

Without missing a beat, Stan moved his mouse and accepted the invite.

#stan marsh #kenny mccormick #butters stock #stunny #stan x kenny x butters #one-shot #polyshipweek #kyle broflovski

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axemetaphor · 4 years

Note

@ the oc ask game thing do all of em for Adam. I Dare Ya

oh shit asdfghjk i already did 2 so i’ll exclude those, but, HERE WE GO

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

He doesn’t remember much of Scotland, but he likely has an idealized concept of it that he considers home. In his mind, if he lived in the rolling green hills he often hears described, everything would be fine! He’d finally be entirely at peace. But that’s not his home, and he knows it.

For him, home isn’t really a place. Technically he still considers his mom’s house “home” simply because he’s used to referring to it as such, but it doesn’t feel like home. What feels like home to him is being with Flint and Domino. What feels like home is the three of them working on a case together and bantering back-and-forth as they drive to and from wherever the hell they need to go. What feels like home is staying up ‘til absurdly late hours playing video games with Domino and Joey and sometimes Lotte. That’s home.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Hm that’s actually interestin to think about. He barely knows New York and his space in the apartment is the living room, so, he doesn’t have His Room or smth to go hide in... He strikes me as the sort to like stargazing/skygazing, though, so maybe the roof. If he needs to think about something or calm down, he might take a walk to clear his head. He’s prone to anxiety and walks really help with that, afaik!

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with receiving affection from others?

Adam probably loves hugs, but is a bit skittish about them, mainly because he’s mindful of other people’s boundaries ! He doesn’t tend to easily trust kindness from strangers, or even from friends and family honestly, but he’d like hugs. He gives very nice hugs, he’s a very fluffy lad.

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

He likes birds! And nature in general! He just likes living green things a lot. He likely notices plants and wildlife the most. That being said, everything about New York City is probably very new to him, so for a while he’d be dazzled by all the hustle-and-bustle. Especially the concept of “the city that never sleeps,” the eternal Something Is Happening Someplace.

As for people around him, he likely notices their neutral expression the most, and can probably pick up on what their mood is quite easily. If someone else is happy, he’s likely going to be happy, too! Unfortunately, this sort of a skill is likely a defense mechanism-

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

this one was kinda tough lkjhgfd He’s a gentle dog with the prettiest unnervingly-bright-blue eyes around, and even when he hasn’t combed his mess of hair it manages to flop over his eyes in just the most adorable way. He handles everything with a certain level of delicacy that’s genuinely admirable. He’s always honest, even if it’d hurt him, fiercely loyal, and incredibly resourceful & hardy. He’s a little dumb but his heart’s in the right place, and he’s selfless to an almost dangerous degree.

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

Adam is extremely good at taking care of other people and probably not very good at being taken-care-of lolol... He isn’t a terrible patient, just not the greatest one. He won’t be downright awful because he’s too sweet but he doesn’t like being fussed-over and feels guilty. Domino and Flint are both equally likely to take care of him when he’s sick, but Flint would probably be a little bit better at it by virtue of being More Adult than either of them lmao. Domino would Try, though!

🌿 What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

He strikes me as the type to Gently Lean On Someone when he really trusts them. He’d be likely to hug Domino when they’re having a rough time. He’s the type to pay attention closely when he really cares about someone or something.

Flint is likely to just do nice stuff for both of his kids--he doesn’t seem to be the type to be good at being emotional via words, so he probably shows that he cares by just doing little nice things here and there. Domino is probably the same, though their main way of showing Adam they really do love and trust him is simply the fact they let him hug them lol. As for the other characters he interacts with ... I’m not sure!

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

He likes to play video games ! His favourite to relax is probably Minecraft. It’s chill and also Domino is terrible at it, so it’s really funny for him to watch them get lost and die a lot-

He does strike me as the type to maybe like a calming bath, though. Maybe he’d just chill in silence, or maybe he’s listen to some soft music.

🌲 How deeply does your OC feel? Are they typically empathetic or do they have a hard time connecting with others in this way? What are they like when offering support and comfort to someone they care for?

He’s a very empathetic doggo, but he has a tough time making it a two-way street. He doesn’t open up very easily, albeit less-obviously-so than Domino. He’s more likely to deflect others’ questions about his emotions and focus on the other person’s feelings more.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

When he wakes up after a nightmare, he usually hugs a pillow, or Domino if they’re awake. He just doesn’t want to be all alone again. Domino is the most-comforting person to him, with Flint maybe being second-place--or tied with Joey.

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

He loves video games, snack foods, gentle rainstorms, green hills and the outdoors in general, that light-in-the-chest happy feeling he gets when he’s Genuinely Praised, the smell of coffee in the early morning, waking up next to his family, road trips, peanut butter (though he has to be mindful of Flint’s allergies--), hugging Domino, the stars at night in a smog-free sky...

🌼 Who are this characters friends and found family? How did they meet, how long have they been friends for, could they ever be something more than just friends? What do they look for in a friend or a romantic partner?

Adam’s only biological relative is his sibling Domino! The two were adopted by Flint Paper, who Adam sees as a father figure. He considers Joey (owned by @archielemon) his big sister, as Domino and Joey already sorta.. mutually adopted each other as siblings lolol. By extension he might also see Kathy, Joey’s girlfriend (also owned by @archielemon) as a big-sister-in-law (technically--they’re not married, but, yknow). He also sees Lotte (owned by @keenflapcowboytaco) as a younger sister. Adam doesn’t have many friends yet, but he admires Sam a fair amount. Max, however, scares the shit out of him.

Adam doesn’t have any romantic interests at present, nor a canon sexuality, because his mother was so stifling he never got any sort of opportunity to figure himself out. He has no idea what he would want in a partner or if he would want one at all.

Questions for You!

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

this is Another Really Hard question! I’d have to say ... my favourite fact is how he admires Sam but is scared of Max. Especially since Max just wants to be his friend kjhgfdsa. If Adam wants to talk to Sam he’s gotta brave talking to Max, too, poour guy--

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

asdfghjkl all of my OCs suffer too much at my hands, i am Sorry, My Children,

🌠 On a scale of 1 - 10 how Baby is your OC? BONUS when asking this question rate the OC yourself as see if the reply matches up!!

100000/10 he is Pupy and he cannot change this. He is More Pupy than Domino is

💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

oh fuck LMAO there are. so many. hm. well. Even though it was better for Domino to leave, Adam really wishes they’d stuck around. If he had them there, maybe they could have left together, instead, and been stronger for it.

#long post #im so sorry this is so goddamned long ASDFGHJKL #i jsut ... went off!#adam dog #rambles.txt #not sonic #asks #canadaisnolonger

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oddsnendsfanfics · 6 years

Text

Coming Undone

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Ubbe/Reader Warnings: N/A Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Alright, this is a late (sorry very rushed through) addition to @laketaj24 birthday celebrations

A little over two hours ago you had shown up at the Lothbrok house as requested, Ubbe had mentioned something about dinner at his parents' a few weeks ago; telling you that his mother was griping about how her family never got together anymore.

She and Ragnar were lonely, Bjorn was too busy with his newest wife, Ubbe and you were always at work, Hvitserk was setting up another club, Sigurd was - somewhere in the world, and Ivar was in another month long snit fit about something.

Saturday evening dinner and family time was a demand, not a request. When Aslaug demanded, she got what she wanted, it was easier for everybody in the end. Which is why you had shown, after work it was home to shower and change, with the agreement to meet Ubbe there.

Dinner had been his excuse to get you here. Arriving, you'd taken a few seconds to gather your belongings and the bottle of schnapps that you'd brought especially for after dinner with Aslaug. Opening the door, you'd almost lost the schnapps when the large group of waiting family, friends, and various people you may or may not know began screaming Happy Birthday.

Leave it to Ubbe.

He'd arranged an entire surprise party and was nowhere to be found. He'd told you that he would meet you at six thirty - no later - for dinner. Of course that was before you knew that dinner was translation of a surprise party.

Two hours and no Ubbe.

"Hvitserk," You gently place a hand on his shoulder, guiding him away from one of your co-workers. "Where is your brother?"

Hvitserk smirked, his drink at his lips. "Which one? Sigurd is in the kitchen, Bjorn is outside, and Ivar...."

"I meant Ubbe. Don't be an ass!" You scold, resisting the urge to smack him in the back of the head. "Where is he?"

"He told me that he was getting a ride with Uhtred." Hvitserk shrugged, waving at another one of your friends passing by. The damn boy would have them all in bed before the end of the evening, no doubt. Those poor girls.

"Well, Uhtred showed up thirty minutes ago." Not to state the obvious. You clearly remember Ubbe's best friend coming in through the garage door. He hadn't made his way to you, yet, but he was hard to miss with that cocky smile and mess of dark hair.

"Look, if I hear from Ubbe then I'll come get you. Maybe he got tied up with work? Either way, relax. You know he'll be here." Hvitserk tried to pacify you and get out of this conversation. "He said that he was coming with Uhtred, maybe he knows where he is."

"Fine, whatever." You roll your eyes at Hvitserk and sigh, not wanting to be that person.

"It's a party, your party. Go enjoy. Ubbe will be here." He smiled, kissing your cheek and waltzing back to the co-worker he'd been chatting up.

This was bullshit.

You had sent a text, worry now beginning to set in over the anger. What if something had happened? What if he was in trouble and...You groan and roll your eyes seeing the over zealous Uhtred approaching, his stupid face plastered with a cheeky grin.

"You look like you could use a drink, Milady."

"Where's Ubbe?"

"Uh," Uhtred resorted to a drink instead of an answer. His blue eyes didn't do well at hiding his lies or nerves.

"Uhtred?" You prompt. "He told Hvitserk that you were bringing him, where is he?"

"No clue." Uhtred shrugged, licking his lips. "He only asked me to bring a cake. Which I did. It's in the kitchen. Chocolate with chocolate icing and raspberry center, the one you like from that hipster bakery downtown." He recited off the order that he'd been given.

He was right, you did love that cake, but right now cake was the last thing you wanted. It was your birthday party, damn it, and you wanted Ubbe here.

"You really have no idea where Ubbe is?" You ask again.

"If I did, then I would tell you." Uhtred leaned closer with a wink. "What I will tell you, is that if he doesn't show by the end of the night, I'll make sure you get a ride."

"You are terrible Uhtred Bebbanburg." You snort at his offer. Ubbe would clock him, despite the years of friendship, if he thought Uhtred was making a pass at you. They shared a lot, but you were something Ubbe wasn't into allowing the dark haired Dane have.

Brows raised, Uhtred laughed. "You have no idea how terrible, but I could show you. If you want."

"Go flirt with Hvitserk's new lady friend. He'll love you for it." You ignore the flirtations. He is something else. "If you hear from Ubbe, tell me."

"Will do." Uhtred nodded, strutting over to Hvitserk and the lady he had been trying to pick up for the duration of the party. Before the evening, she'd be leaving with one man or possibly both on her arm.

You'd tried Ubbe's phone, two voice mail messages later, you huffed. Forget it. He would arrive, when he felt good and ready. There was no sense in sitting around pouting, when you could be enjoying your birthday party. After all, these people were here for you.

Mingling, despite the worry and once again anger bubbling, you did your best to try and enjoy. Aslaug and Ragnar had outdone themselves decorating the house and allowing everybody to gather for the occasion.

"We're going to have the cake soon, sweetie." Aslaug informed you, passing by as you'd settled to chat with Ivar and a friend from work.

"Thanks." You nod and zone out from the conversation about the latest films and which version of the Grinch was best. Who knew Ivar was such a Dr. Seuss fan.

Checking your phone, still no replies.

Departing to make another call, you forget the task at hand, hearing that all too familiar, smooth as silk voice. Around the corner, Ubbe stands chatting with a guy that you vaguely remember seeing once, at a party. Ubbe really had invited everybody! Before you in the flesh and hours late, you're torn between slapping and hugging him, when you approach.

“Kind of you to show.” You quip grabbing Ubbe by the elbow.

"Happy birthday, babe." He attempts a kiss, only to be rejected. Rightfully so. Wanting to ask him where he has been hiding, your thoughts are derailed with commotion from the kitchen.

"Happy birthday to you..." Aslaug began, grabbing the attention of the happy party goers. The mix of voices joining her, the distinct voice carrying about the rest.

You glare at Ubbe, at your side. After this, you were having a discussion.

"Go on, blow out the candles." Nudging you forward. Now wasn't the time.

Blowing out the candles and thanking everyone for coming, as Sigurd and Ivar jeered at you for a "Speech", your eyes stayed locked on Ubbe. He best have a good reason for missing most of the party. Satisfied that you'd put on your best happy face and spoke from the heart, you dismissed the spotlight.

“That was lovely, I'm glad to see you've enjoyed the...” Ubbe pauses, your eyes throwing daggers at him. “Oh babe, come on.”

"Where were you?" You hiss, taking Ubbe aside.

"I had things to do. This is just phase one of our party. Wait until we get home." Ubbe smiles, his deliciously stubbled face covered in a shit eating grin. "I have even more of a surprise, just make sure you bring some of that cake. It's going to look great smeared all over the sheets."

"I hate you."

"Keep that going, it will only make your present hotter. By the way, I think Uhtred is going to drive us home. Mind if he comes in for a bit?"

@float-autumn-leave , @funmadnessandbadassvikings , @kawennote09, @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @akamaiden @angelaiswriting, @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele, @titty-teetee, @smolasianwinterbean , @imyourliquor-youremypoison , @ceridwenofwales @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @angelswannawearmyredshooz @awesome-as-i-wanna-be , @lilu46 , @dani-si , @hoeghfabulous , @danicalifornia25 , @pebblesz892 , @whenimaunicorn , @lisinfleur, @sconniebelle , @imeannooffensebabybut , @fumblingthroughchaos , @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone, @beautifulramblingbrains, @chynagirl13 , @niamandthings , @thepalaceofmelanie , @bluearchersstuff, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @wilddrabble, @lol-haha-joke, @ivarlothbroks, @writingfromasgard, @happydaysandersen, @rekdreams-fandom , @pixiedustandfairywings @vikingsandetc, @thevikingsheaux , @hows-my-hair, @alicedopey, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @thisisabigmaze, @grungyblonde @sdcyumyum @unacceptabletatertots, @captstefanbrandt - if you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to ask :)

#ubbe's wolfpack #ubbe imagine #modern ubbe #ubbe lothbrok imagine #ubbe x reader #ubbe ragnarsson #vikings x the last kingdom #this will probably never happen again #;)#uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred son of uhtred #uhtred ragnarson

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sunshinetrappedinourhearts · 6 years

Text

Nathmarc month day 29: Fantasy AU

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491026/chapters/39420499 Or, in my case, a vampire AU LMAO- hey, it’s fantasy right...? Oh man, this was nice to write. I had to stop it at some point though, because it was getting ridiculously long (again... stop giving me AU’s lol) PLUS, I wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated, as in I chose to not write out... certain things. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways. Here ya go. c: @nathmarcnovember BY THE WAY! I’m in Paris right now (I’m from the Netherlands myself) for Y/CON and I’ll be cosplaying Marc with my girlfriend as Nathaniel! c: Which is super nice of course, but yeah, this is why day 30 will be delayed, probably. I’ll try to write it tomorrow (one day late), but we’ll see!

The day Nathaniel arrived, it was grey and rainy. The sun was nowhere to be found, and it made the whole town look ominous and a little shady. It made him shiver. Although that could also have been caused by the cold of the early autumn that year.

Absently, he wondered why on earth he had chosen to attend college here again, instead of a normal big city where all his former classmates had gone to. But then he remembered that it was one of the most prestigious art schools in the country, and that it would definitely help him grow.

He probably just had bad timing; in the coming days the sky would surely clear up a bit. He should just stop being so prejudged and give the small town a chance.

***

It didn’t clear up the next few days, and his first day of college it was even cloudier than the day he arrived, yet there was no rain. He was carrying an umbrella, staring at the trees already losing their leaves, they looked sad and lonely, and Nathaniel felt like capturing them in a drawing. He was imagining the way he could do that, maybe using charcoal pencils, or ink… when suddenly, he hit something hard with his shoulder and he quickly looked up into a pair of the brightest green eyes he had ever seen.

‘Ah, sorry!’ he said, grabbing the umbrella he had just dropped. ‘I was lost in thought…’

The boy in front of him seemed to be about the same age as him. He was just a little taller, and he had black hair tied in a messy ponytail. Nathaniel noticed he was wearing fingerless gloves and black nail polish. It contrasted strongly against his very pale skin. But it were the eyes that captured Nathaniel’s attention. They were so intensely radiant that he found it hard to look away. As if they were enchanting him. Never before in his life had he seen such dazzling eyes.

‘N-no, my bad,’ the boy said, pulling Nathaniel out of his daze, he then noticed the other was awkwardly scratching his head, taking some papers he had apparently dropped on the ground.

Nathaniel quickly leaned down to help him. They were lined pages, scribbled full of words, and it was tempting to read, but Nathaniel quickly gave them back to him before he could.

‘Thank you…’ He smiled a bit, putting the papers back in the map he was carrying.

‘Are you attending the art school here?’ Nathaniel blurted out.

‘Oh, I am, yes, I’m starting today. I’m in creative writing. What about you?’

‘2D and digital art,’ Nathaniel said, smiling softly. ‘Starting today as well. I specialize in comic and cartoon style, actually, but I also do traditional art.’

‘That’s amazing,’ Marc answered. ‘Maybe I’ll see you in the joined lessons some time, then.’

‘Joined lessons?’

‘Yeah, they have those, making people in different art divisions cooperate with each other to make big projects.’

Nathaniel felt a wave of excitement run through his body as he heard those words. Especially since there were a lot of things he wasn’t too good at, like script writing.

‘That’s amazing…’

He looked at the other boy, then quickly reached out his hand to introduce himself. ‘I’m Nathaniel,’ he smiled.

‘Ah, I’m Marc…’ Marc took his hand, shaking it shortly before letting go, a hint of pink on his cheeks. ‘It’s nice to meet you…’

***

Marc’s prediction happened sooner than Nathaniel expected, already during the first week he spotted him during a joined course.

Their eyes met for a second, and Nathaniel got lost within them, quickly pulling away when their teacher spoke.

Apparently, they were going to do a cooperation between creative writers and artists , and they’d be allowed to choose their own end product, for example a picture book, a visual novel, or...

A comic book.

It had been Nathaniel’s dream for ages to create a comic book, and he desperately hoped that this would finally become reality.

Marc appeared beside him only a second after their teacher told them to find a partner, and Nathaniel almost tripped as he was still getting up.

The other boy grabbed his shoulder, and grinned a little sheepishly, a light blush on his cheeks. ‘Do you… erm… want to work together?’

***

That day, when Nathaniel walked towards his apartment, he didn’t notice the dozens of lit up eyes watching him from a distance.

He didn’t see it the next day either.

Or the next.

Or the following.

***

‘Nathaniel…?’ Marc asked a few weeks later. They were in the final stage of the comic book they were working on. It was about a superhero named Ladybug, one that always inspired Nathaniel during his middle and high school years, when he still lived in Paris.

He’d always wanted to create a comic about her, to honour her, and of course, to finally bundle all the story ideas he had about her.

Marc had happily agreed, and ever since, they had worked together perfectly, their skills complementing each other.

‘Yes…?’ he answered, looking up from the sketch of the final few pages he was working on. Marc was currently coloring the pages and filling in the speech bubbles.

‘I’m just wondering, where in town do you live…?’

‘Oh, in the outskirts, near the forest,’ he answered. ‘Why do you ask? Wanna work at my place sometime?’

‘Ah, that, too… i-if you want to, that is!’ Marc’s cheeks reddened a bit and Nathaniel found it cute. ‘But that’s not why I asked… It’s because, well… I just want to tell you… to be careful walking home… and… don’t go too late…’

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Why’s that?’

Marc averted his gaze, and an uncomfortable sense of foreboding settled itself in Nathaniel’s stomach. The other boy was acting a bit strangely and it didn’t suit him.

‘…strange things have been happening in town, lately… Have always been, actually, but… it’s back, kind of…’

That confused him even more. ‘I can’t follow you…’

Marc looked up, locking their gazes carefully. Nathaniel hold his breath, because Marc’s eyes were mesmerizing… so deep… so…

‘J-just, be careful, okay?’

Nathaniel nodded, but he still didn’t understand what the writer boy was talking about.

***

Two weeks later, he found out what Marc meant.

He was on his way home from a late lecture, walking through the quiet part of town, almost reaching his apartment, when a hooded figure jumped in front of him, his face hidden.

Nathaniel’s heart stopped for a moment, and he took a step back, uneasiness tingling through his limbs.

The figure walked closer, slowly, and alarmed, he turned around, only to find an identical person on the other side, closing him in.

Another appeared.

And another.

And Nathaniel dropped his bag, his hands shaking.

What… what was happening…?

What were they doing…?

He had no money, no belongings, nothing!

What was it they wanted…?

Absently, he thought of Marc’s words a few weeks ago, and wondered if this is what his writer friend had been warning him for.

Chewing on his lip, he let his eyes flash from the one person to the other, searching for a way to get out, but there was none.

He was a goner.

Done for.

He didn’t know what was happening but-

He was trapped-

His heart was pounding painfully loud against his chest, and he thought for a moment that maybe, he’d die of that first before these strange hooded people could get to him.

Maybe that would be better.

Then, as one of them took another step closer, only a few feet away from him, he noticed their unnatural glowing purple eyes, and they made him think of Marc’s-

Before he could think anything more of it, the person moved too fast for Nathaniel’s eyes to follow, and he breathed-

He was dead-

No doubt-

He was gonna-

Gonna die-

Lost and forgotten-

Forever-

But then, as he opened the eyes he didn’t even remember closing, there was another figure in front of him suddenly, hissing at the other guys.

‘Get away, this one’s mine.’

Nathaniel blinked.

That voice-

‘Oh yeah? Do you have proof?’ the purple-eyed one called. It was a male voice, and the owner of it had stepped away a bit.

‘We’re four against one, kid,’ one of the others said.

Nathaniel moved a little closer to the figure that was apparently, for God knows whatever reason, protecting him.

Maybe it was a bad idea-

Maybe he’d be slaughtered by this one soon instead-

But-

There was no other option-

‘One, yes, one you cannot beat, you lowlifers. Do you have any idea what family I’m from?’

‘Rhy, that one’s from the Anciel family, we gotta be careful!’

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows, he had no idea what it meant, but the purple-eyed guy, who seemed to be the leader, took another step back and cursed under his breath.

‘Well, you’re lucky today, asshole,’ he growled. ‘But don’t think you can fool me. That one is not marked. So if you want to keep him, you better do that.’

The figure in front of Nathaniel didn’t seem impressed. ‘Get away. Before you start to regret it.’

And they went.

Nathaniel breathed, falling to the ground, only now realizing how stressed he had been from the whole situation. Grabbing his bag, he just inhaled and exhaled, gathering his thoughts.

What-

What on earth-

‘Are you… alright… Did they hurt you…?’ the voice belonging to the figure in front of them spoke. It was too familiar, too…

He turned around, and Nathaniel’s eyes widened.

‘Marc…’

The boy’s eyes seemed to sadden for a moment as he took off the hoodie of his shirt, revealing his face. He reached out his hand and Nathaniel took it, without hesitating, getting up.

His hand was warm and his touch gentle yet firm, and somehow, Nathaniel wanted to cry a little bit, because he felt like he was safe.

Marc however, still looked saddened, and he didn’t understand why.

‘Y-you saved me, thanks…’

Marc shrugged. ‘A little, but…’

‘But?’

His eyes flashed from left to right, and then he looked back at Nathaniel. ‘…I’ll walk you home, okay? I-if you want to, I… can come in and… explain…’

Nathaniel nodded, and they walked to his home in silence. He stayed close by Marc’s side, their shoulders almost touching.

***

Not much later, they were in his apartment, the both of them a warm cup of coffee in their hands. Nathaniel had finally been able to relax, but his mind was spinning with questions.

‘So… what did you want to explain to me…?’ he asked.

Marc took a sip of coffee, and then looked at him, his eyes very sad once again. Nathaniel preferred them happy, and shining with excitement.

‘Those figures that cornered you… they were… vampires…’

Nathaniel frowned. ‘They what?’

Marc looked him in the eye, dead-serious.

‘Vampires.’

He moved back a bit, because, really…?

Was he really joking in a moment like this?

When he had been so afraid, so scared?

He was just… mocking him?

‘…if this is your idea of a joke, I seriously misjudged you. It’s not funny.’

Marc’s eyes widened. ‘I’m n-not joking. I just… This is why I didn’t tell you everything when I warned you… You wouldn’t believe me..’

For a moment, Nathaniel thought to himself. If, but only if vampires really existed, then the whole situation suddenly wouldn’t be so strange anymore, right?

Because no money… no wealth… no things…

There was literally no reason for the four figures to have attacked him.

Unless… they had wanted his blood.

Literally.

But yeah, vampires didn’t exist so it was all total bullshit.

‘That one’s from the Anciel family, we gotta be careful!’

The sentence one of the figures had said about Marc suddenly flashed through his mind, and he looked at Marc carefully, squinting his eyes.

‘If that’s true… does that… mean… you’re a vampire as well…?’

Marc averted his eyes. And then slowly, very slowly, he nodded.

Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows at first because-

It couldn’t be true-

It was ridiculous.

Totally ridiculous.

But then he looked back at Marc, carefully, observing his expression.

It didn’t change. He was trembling slightly, and his eyebrows were cast downwards, in a sad frown. He didn’t meet his gaze.

No freaking way-

Nathaniel chewed on his lip.

‘You… You are… serious.’ It sounded half like a question, half like an observation.

And Nathaniel stood up, taking a step back.

Because he had never seen Marc eating-

Or drinking-

Except his coffee just now-

And his skin was so pale.

His eyes so ridiculously bright.

Could it seriously be…

He took another step back.

And Marc finally looked at him, standing up.

‘I’m not lying. I swear…’

Nathaniel stared.

His head spinning.

‘Show me.’

‘W-what?’

‘Y-your fangs.’

Nathaniel felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly averted his eyes, but then decided it was best to keep looking at him.

Marc was blinking.

For a while, he was silent, then he walked up to him.

Nathaniel wanted to get away, but at the same time, his mind was convincing him that Marc was probably joking because vampires were all one big legend, but he was also a little scared, but also he trusted Marc and-

He was a mess.

Marc, in turn, stopped walking when they were only inches away from each other, and he opened his mouth, a little awkwardly.

And Nathaniel saw.

He wasn’t kidding.

‘T-then… I never saw you eating because…’

Marc closed his mouth. ‘Because I don’t need it. I don’t need drinks as well.’

He nodded at the empty cup of coffee. ‘I can drink, or eat, but, I just don’t taste anything. And it’s not… really enjoyable, but, well, I can…’

‘S-so… those… other…’ Nathaniel frowned. ‘…other… vampires… they got away, because…?’

Marc sighed. ‘Because I belong to a pretty powerful family… I’m a bit of an outsider there, but, well, I still carry their name, and they turned me, so… I can use it in situations like this.’

He scratched his head.

‘The problem is that it won’t help forever… In your case…’

‘Why is that…?’ Nathaniel sat back down on his couch, and Marc carefully followed his example, and Nathaniel noticed he put a considerable amount of distance between them.

Was he… uncomfortable…?

Nathaniel found that he himself, wasn’t… so much. Because if all this was true, Marc was still Marc, and he was still his partner, still a great writer, and well… He saved his life… Especially if those other… people were vampires.

‘Because they probably noticed I was lying.’

‘About… saying… I w-was… yours…?’ Nathaniel felt a little hot suddenly, and he started fumbling with his hair to focus on something else.

‘Y-yeah…’ Marc said, his cheeks pink as well.

Maybe his room was just pretty warm, yeah, that was probably it.

‘Vampires… they can… well… kind of… Mark their… partners… As in… they can pretty much claim a human… or other vampires… as their own… It’s a special process. When you undergo it, other vampires can’t touch that particular person anymore. The only person who can drink that person’s blood is the vampire who marked them. I kind of… implied you were like that to me, but vampires can usually tell whether a person is marked or not. And you’re not, so… they’ll come back for you at some point.’

‘Why me?’

Marc looked at him, fumbling with his gloves a bit. ‘…your blood smells… special…’

Nathaniel breathed.

‘To you, as well?’

‘Y-yeah. But don’t worry, I’m completely under control. I don’t drink much blood. Only blood we have stored at home.’

But you still think my blood smells special…

‘I’m not scared,’ Nathaniel said. ‘You’re Marc. No matter if you’re vampire or human.’

His eyes lighted up for a bit, and a small smile played around his lips. ‘T-thank you… That… means a lot…’

Nathaniel smiled.

Marc then got up. ‘I’ll get going… Just… I’ll walk you home from now on, okay…? I… It’s not that I think you’re weak or something, just…’

‘No, it’s okay. Thank you. I understand. That’s… kind of you. I’d appreciate that.’

Nathaniel couldn’t imagine walking that dark road alone anymore, not when thirsty vampires could appear from every corner. Now that he knew… He shivered.

***

Starting the next day, Marc walked him home every day. Usually, he’d stay for a while, drinking a cup of coffee, because according to him, it was the one thing that could actually close to make him taste something.

Weeks passed, and Nathaniel started feeling guilty to make the other boy walk him home all the time, and something was gnawing his mind… stealing his thoughts.

One day, he finally found the courage to ask.

‘Marc…?’

‘Hm?’ The other boy looked up from his notebook, he had been working on an assignment for class.

‘I uh… you… erm… You are walking me home every day now, and… I appreciate it a whole lot, and I like your company, but… isn’t it… a lot more convenient…’ he paused, taking a deep breath, and then shot out all the remaining words at once. ‘…ifyoujustmarkme.’

Marc dropped his pen. ‘W-what?’

Nathaniel breathed, his head was burning, and he wondered vaguely if it was now as red as his hair. He looked at Marc carefully, but his eyes were so widened, so shocked, and his cheeks so red that Nathaniel felt even more embarrassed and he averted his gaze, chewing on his lip.

‘Well… If you… mark… me… like you t-told me… then… you d-don’t need to worry so much anymore… right?’

Marc inhaled deeply. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re asking?’

‘Yes? I mean? I guess? Probably?’ Nathaniel blinked.

Marc picked up his pen again.

‘Nathaniel… If I… give you my mark, then… it won’t just mean you can’t be preyed upon by other vampires anymore… It also means that… I will be unable to drink any other blood than yours… Meaning I… have to continue drinking your blood… because it will be the only one that will satisfy me… Until the mark disappears… Meaning… until you die…’

Nathaniel’s head was spinning. ‘O-oh…’

‘See? I can’t do that. I can’t hurt you like that,’ Marc said softly, and he smiled a bit as he continued writing.

Nathaniel didn’t answer, thinking hard.

But he didn’t find an answer that day.

***

A week later, he did.

‘Marc. Drink my blood.’

The poor writer boy choked on his coffee, almost spitting half of it out. Then, he looked at Nathaniel, his eyes big and shocked. ‘W-what?’

Nathaniel didn’t know what words were anymore. He searched hard for them, opening his mouth, closing it again, and Marc waited until finally, he managed to blurt them out.

‘Then I know what it feels like. So I can decide for myself if I’d find it a bother if you… mark… me…’

Marc inhaled.

‘I-I n-never d-drank… s-someone’s… blood… directly…’

‘Well, then it’ll be a first time for you as well…?’ Nathaniel smiled a bit, embarrassed, his cheeks burning.

‘N-no. I can’t. I can’t do it,’ Marc said, getting up, grabbing his notebook and pen, but they fell on the ground as he awkwardly tried to gather them together.

Nathaniel tried reaching for it, to help him, but he clumsily scratched his hand across the table.

Cursing, he grabbed his trembling hand.

It was bleeding.

Carefully, he looked up to Marc.

His eyes were… glowing.

And as soon as their gazes met, he took multiple steps back.

Nathaniel chewed his lip.

Was he…

Was it…

His blood…?

‘…Marc…?’

‘I should leave.’

He was about to walk away, but Nathaniel realized that this would probably be the only time he’d get a chance like this.

Why though…

Why on Earth…

Did he want Marc to…

To…

So desperately…?

He didn’t know.

Or maybe he did.

But he didn’t want to acknowledge it.

It didn’t matter-

He quickly moved towards the writer boy, standing between him and the door, locking their gazes.

‘Nathaniel…’

Marc’s eyes were trembling, and so were his hands.

Nathaniel hold out his hand. It was bleeding, a little bit, but there were still small drops of blood trailing down his arm.

He took a deep breath.

‘J-just try. Alright? I trust you.’

Marc groaned, grabbing his head. ‘Don’t ask this of me… please…!’

‘But you want to, don’t you?’

‘You have no idea-’

‘Yes! Because I don’t know! If you just- Then I’ll know.’

Marc grabbed his hand, and Nathaniel breathed.

Slowly, very slowly, Marc pulled his hand closer, and he didn’t look him in the eye as he licked the trail of blood from his arm.

Nathaniel shivered.

And he saw Marc’s eyes widening.

‘…it’s… good?’ he breathed, barely a whisper.

Marc let go of his arm, and locked their gazes.

‘It… it is… Which is why… I won’t do that again…’

He left. Before Nathaniel had moved from his frozen state, unable to stop him.

***

Some months passed, and they never spoke of the incident again. Until one evening, Marc walked him home like always, and suddenly, the group of four vampires reappeared.

Nathaniel’s heart sank, and he froze in his steps. Vaguely, he registered Marc moving in front of him protectively.

The purple-eyed vampire spoke first.

‘So, what’s the deal, Anciel? This human, he’s not yours, is he?’

‘Then why can’t we have it?’ another of them asked.

‘Yeah, it’s blood smells pretty good, and he lives alone, a perfect victim.’

‘Get away,’ Marc said.

‘Not until you give me a clear answer.’ The purple-eyed vampire took some steps closer to Marc, facing him. He was a little bit taller than him, and Nathaniel’s heart was pounding loudly against his chest.

‘I haven’t marked him yet,’ Marc answered.

A loud chuckle sounded, and unconsciously, Nathaniel moved a little closer to Marc, who in turn moved even more in front of him.

‘If you haven’t marked him yet,’ the purple-eyed vampire said. ‘He is as much yours as he is ours. So you get away. We’re four, you’re one. An Anciel or not, you can’t win.’

‘Get. Away,’ Marc growled. And Nathaniel couldn’t see his face, but the sound in his voice was enough. He waited, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, trying to concentrate on something else instead of the vampires surrounding them.

For a second, the leader of the vampires backed away. Just one step. And then he snorted.

‘Then mark him. Right here.’

‘You know perfectly well that I’m not going to do that in public,’ Marc said. And Nathaniel absently wondered what the hell he meant by that. Was it that intimate…? His heart started to pound a little faster, and he wasn’t so sure anymore what exactly the cause of it was.

Marc took one step forward, in the direction of the purple-eyed vampire. Who took one back.

‘If you want to fight me, be my guest. But you know about the Anciel’s fighting techniques, do you not?’

Silence.

‘Then you know you don’t stand a chance. And you know four against one is not something you can be proud of.’

The purple-eyed vampire made a tch-sound, and then turned around.

‘You better make truth of your words, Anciel. You can’t simply claim a human smelling that good without marking him. I’ll hunt him down and find him when you’re not around.’

They walked away.

And Nathaniel breathed.

***

When they arrived at home, Marc turned around, and looked him in the eye, shy at first, but then serious. And he took a step closer.

Nathaniel held his breath.

‘Nathaniel… I… I want t-to… make you… mine…’

He released his breath. And his face was on fire.

‘Wow, that sounded…’

‘You c-can take it in two different ways. I mean it in both,’ Marc said, he was blushing.

‘W-what…?’

‘I’m… I… want to protect you… And… I promise to never hurt you… I’ll only drink your blood… when it’s absolutely necessary… In that way. But… this is also a confession…’

‘C-confession…?’

‘I’m in love with you,’ Marc blurted out, and Nathaniel’s heart soared.

His mind was spinning with what?! and but- and how- and since when- and that can’t be true- and a whole lot more that he couldn’t identify at all but-

Something within his chest felt like a fluttering ball of fluff, and it was soft and warm, and Nathaniel didn’t dislike it.

Only his cheeks were uncomfortably warm and he probably looked like a freaking tomato-

How did talking work again?

‘Nathaniel…?’

Marc looked worried, and small, and his posture was insecure and his hands were trembling.

He was nervous-

He should give him an answer-

But how did he feel?

Nathaniel only knew that his heart felt a little lighter whenever Marc was around. That he was kind and talented, and a little shy, but that was more cute than annoying. That his eyes were mesmerizing and his hands were soft. That he didn’t remember anymore what it felt like to be without him. That they were the perfect team they had ever dreamed of. And that he wouldn’t mind Marc drinking his blood… at all. He didn’t mind him being a vampire. Because he was Marc. And Marc was the only thing he needed.

‘I-I…’

‘You don’t need to answer me immediately,’ Marc said quickly. ‘I can still protect you the way I’m doing it right now. I’ll fight when it’s necessary. I’ll win.’

‘N-no it’s… I’m feeling a bit… overwhelmed… But not in a bad way…’ he carefully looked at him, and smiled. ‘I… I need some time to sort out my feelings, but… I like you a lot, Marc… I… think I might be in love with you… as well…’

Marc smiled, and his eyes softened. Better.

‘Once you have an answer… please tell me…’

***

About two weeks later, Nathaniel told him he loved him.

He had never seen Marc’s face so red before. It was cute.

They were silent for a while, just sitting together, as Marc squeezed his hand. Eventually, Nathaniel had to be the one to point it out.

‘You should mark me, then.’

He felt Marc jump slightly next to him, and the writer boy turned to look at him.

‘I guess I said that, huh…’ he scratched his head, smiling awkwardly.

‘How does it work…?’

Suddenly, Marc’s hand was moving over his neck, his fingers soft and gentle.

Nathaniel found it hard to remember how to breathe.

‘Apparently…’ Marc said, his voice low. ‘I should bite you… right here… Suck your blood and… there should be some kind of bond between us… If there is… it should happen automatically… You probably won’t be able to tell, but I will…’

Nathaniel nodded, breathing slowly.

‘B-but first…’ Marc said, he was avoiding his gaze, flashing his eyes from left to right nervously. ‘Erm… c-can I… k-kiss you…?’

‘Yes,’ the small word was gone before Nathaniel realized, and Marc leaned in, slowly. He closed his eyes, and their lips touched. A little awkwardly, then again, gentle, soft, Nathaniel’s head was spinning-

It was then that he knew he wanted to be with Marc forever. Everything fell into place.

And from that moment, their eternity started.

#nathmarc november #nathmarc #rainbow tomato #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #miraculous ladybug #vampire au #marcnath #marcthaniel #marc x nathaniel #nathaniel x marc #fanfiction #my stuff

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