#i stuck a lot of small details into each of these (‘: lots of story here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nonclassyparty · 8 months

Text

tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw.

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.

You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios

151 notes · View notes

sticks-stones-sonic-insanity · 3 months

Text

I JUST FINISHED SONK ADVENTURE 2 IM NOT OKAY OMG

The scene with Shadow falling to earth was funny at first and it all happened so fast i was still trying to wrap my head around it. Ppl talk about that scene a lot which theyre so right for, but i need to talk about the scenes after because oh my god they broke me!?!??!

Sonic, coming back onto the ark, completely silent. Everyone asking if Shadow made it back and he just slowly shakes his head without a word.

The scene where Sonic gives Rouge Shadow's inhibitior ring hold so much more weight to me after actually playing the game: In the short time they knew each other, Shadow saved Rouge's life. Twice. This is the only possession she has to remember him by. Knuckles asks her what shes going to do now and she actually stops to reflect and remarks how shes thinking of changing jobs, something else on her mind now(What exactly shes referring to in this moment isnt stated but theres a fair few connections to draw there). After almost getting killed during a heist and never getting a chance to thank the guy who saved her from it, that's a pretty good and strangely mature call to make from a writing standpoint. This whole scene has a similar feeling like that, like the jokes and the extravagance thats typical of the cutscenes have really been toned down with intention.

This one genuinely shocked me, and im really surprised i havent come across anything about it yet because the scene between Eggman and Tails was actually super deep?? There are a lot of different Sonic medias as far as I im aware that have touched on the paralells between Eggman and Tails: their small similarities and how well they work together when they have to, but the scene here really stuck out to me. Eggman is talking about how much he admired his grandfather as a child, how much his work inspired him to learn and create and strive to be great like him, drifting off to question whether or not he really wanted to see them all fall. Tail's response is very chipper and optimistic, but i really like the idea of Eggman having almost this turning point here, having to face something so saddening as watching someone you love curse the world and everyone on it(including you). After arguably some of the most dangerous and threatening feats have been accomplished by Eggman in this game as the story's primary antagonist, is this moment a nod to him maybe stopping to think about what he's done? Im amazed by how much meaning can be taken from these few seconds of dialogue!!

Finally, the last two moments. Amy, despite having had her own short heart to heart with Shadow before the final battle and ultimately being the one to spurr Shadow on to fight alongside Sonic and the others, doesn't seem as upset by Shadows death as Sonic is. This is genuinely, in my limited knowledge of Sonic media, one of the only instances i have seen Sonic be thoroughly shaken up by something and brushed it off when someone asks him whats wrong. In most cases, he's just relatively unfazed from an emotional standpoint like that, so theres nothing to brush off in the first place. But here, the ever-yapping blue blur remains silent for a while, just staring at Earth in a similar paralell to how Shadow used to. It isn't until Amy comes by that he looks away. Its the really subtle details here that get me: Sonic doesn't look or respond to her right away. There's a prominent pause of silence before he turns to her and says its nothing, switching the topic immediately to rush her along. Sonic, typically impatient and eager to move to the next adventure, slows down and is the last to leave the deck, delivers the farewell line to end the game. Again, the contrast in how slowly and soft he speaks here in comparison to literally anything else he says in the game is insane. The pause between "Shadow" and "the Hedgehog" is still very funny to me and im not lost on how the delivery does end up being chopped up quite goofy like that, but if that isnt an absolutely insane way to end off the game with such a somber, emotional moment...

Sonadow or no sonadow, take it as you will, its undeniable how impactful this adventure in particular is to Sonic. How much Shadow meant to him by the end of the game. How much his sacrifice meant. I really see his discussion with Rouge as both a way to comfort her, and to comfort himself. To say out loud how heroic and brave he'd seen Shadow to be, regardless of the intention that came from his creation. Sonic is big on freedom and giving people the opportunity to live how they want to, and Shadow's sacrifice in that regard means even more to him. He had just come to understand what he had truly promised Maria he'd do, joined Sonic whole-heartedly to help save the planet, and never got to experience anything beyond that. Given Eggmans continuous antangonistic streak at that point (I'm not fully aware of the other villain's Sonic had faced up until that point), it's rare that Sonic actually gets to see someone who opposed him change for the better!! And not only was Shadow one of the first to do so, but he was a speedy teen hedgehog!!! Just like Sonic himself!!! Its like Shadow said, there was so much more to them that they never got to find out about each other!! The fact that Shadow gave up all of that possibility, all of his own personal freedom to help Sonic save the planet and the freedom of all the people on it? That hits. HARD.

Im not familiar with the full canon of how Sonic actually managed to get one of Shadow's inhibitior rings to give to Rouge, as he's actually not shown in any scene taking them off during the final battle(i actually dont even think their mechanics are properly explained which is more confusing but yk), but getting into more headcanony, sonadow adjacent space for a second? I like to think Shadow actually took two of his rings off/had two break off before he fell. Sonic gave one to Rouge, and secretly kept the other for himself. He obviously didn't want his friends to ask him more questions about how he was feeling, so he hid it in his quills before he greeted them back on the ark. Shadow ended up meaning a lot to Sonic, and it's really interesting to think about what was running through Sonic's mind when all was said and done.

Uhhh anyways good game very very infuriating at times but very good game i have a true taste for the appeal of Sonic games now and i want to play them all. If you actually made it this far, thank you for reading my silly sonk rant! If you have any information you know of to patch the spaces where I'm lacking or just want to discuss your own thoughts on the ending feel free!! Have a good day or night wherever you are :]

#i will in fact be thinking about this non stop for a while now #shadow the hedgehog #will probably make art or write something if i ge the time #sonic adventure 2 #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonadow #rouge the bat #dr eggman #dr robotnik #sticks can talk!?#just really tagging the main characters that i bring up ig? tagging is strange idk #look after actually playing the game and experiencing the real sonadow intro myself theres honestly so much more there than i was expecting #they wanted to get to know each other :(((( its sooo angsty compared to how i usually perceive them but its great tbh #sonic adventure 2 spoilers #i guess???

58 notes · View notes

twinsunstars · 3 months

Text

"Can you braid my hair?"

Summary: Omega helps Emerie braid her hair during their time together on Tantiss.

Additional Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

Notes: Wanted to associate this prompt with Omega and Emerie getting some time to be siblings together. Hope you enjoy this small fic! divider by @summer-of-bad-batch

The same everyday routine on Tantiss never really got tiring for everyone else as they continued to work their jobs. For Omega, it was getting boring.

Four months had passed now ever since she was brought here, and every day there was a lot to do. Blood samples, feeding the lurca hounds, keeping everything organized, behaving well and not making trouble. Omega had forced herself to adapt to her new surroundings while continuing to wait for her brothers to arrive and rescue her. Deep inside, a tiny part of her was starting to lose hope when they never came. But every day was a new day, and Omega had to keep finding the perfect route to make an escape.

All of her time was always spent either with Emerie, Batcher, or Crosshair. Emerie was always the first face she would see and always took her blood samples, along with making sure she was doing well. Batcher and Crosshair were stuck in cells, but they were still around. Omega developed her own daily routine while completing her given tasks. She was happy Crosshair was there to listen to her, and it still took time for Batcher to warm up to her.

Emerie was also a good listener. Omega often told her stories about her brothers while they worked on tasks together. Omega deeply missed them. She told Emerie all about who each of her brothers were and what they were like. Omega even enjoyed telling her about the different places she had visited and the new life she was making for herself on Pabu. She never mentioned the island’s name explicitly just in case anyone was listening nearby.

“At our new home, Wrecker loves to catch a lot of sea creatures and help the locals fish. Hunter’s still getting used to everything. Echo sometimes comes to visit away from missions and I would show him around the beach. I think you would love beaches, they’re beautiful. Tech would hang out with Phee and talk about a lot of things.”

Whenever Omega talked about Tech, she paused for a few seconds before continuing. Emerie would see sadness and grief in her eyes.

Emerie loved listening to Omega talk about her brothers. The only clones she knew personally were Omega, Commander Scorch, Crosshair, and the other clones kept in cells here on Tantiss, so Emerie was intrigued by all the specific details Omega would tell her.

She noticed Omega’s hair had been growing longer each day, eventually reaching her shoulders. Emerie helped Omega tie her layers into a small ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way whenever she completed her tasks. Emerie had always kept hers in a neat ponytail after her hair grew out while she was growing up, and Nala Se wasn’t there anymore to continuously trim her hair to keep it short.

Omega had hers always kept short with the headdress tied around her forehead. Having longer hair took some time to get used to. Sometimes, she let her hair be free whenever she had some leisure time or was alone in her room. She leaned against the wall and let her fingers play with her growing blond locks. Maybe her hair was almost as long as Hunter’s.

She missed him so much. She missed everyone. Omega knew they were looking for her. She longed for the day they would come for her or when she would finally figure out an escape plan for her and Crosshair.

Playing with her hair, Omega remembered how Hunter taught her to braid hair. He would sometimes make small braids in his own hair when he would be sitting by himself, lost in thought and wrapping strands of his hair around until they formed neat braids. Omega had watched Hunter braid his hair many times and wondered if she could make braids in her own. It had been too short the first time she saw him do it, but Hunter had offered to teach her how to braid so she could try it with him when her hair got longer.

But he wasn’t here. Remembering the steps Hunter taught her, Omega grabbed three strands of her hair and looped them over one by one until it created a perfect braid. She kept on creating small braids to pass the time and calm down her anxiety while relishing the memories.

During another surprise inspection, Emerie noticed the small braids Omega had designed in her hair. While the troopers checked the room, Omega kept on toying with her hair and making braids. Emerie had seen that hairstyle before as other female doctors around Tantiss had crafted their hair into neat braids to work comfortably in. She loved how they looked, but had never learned how to do it on her own.

After the troopers left, Emerie paused before heading back to wrap up for the night. Omega kept herself fixated with making her small braids, eventually noticing Emerie’s stare. “Is something wrong, Emerie?”

Emerie breathed. She wanted to have her hair in braids just like Omega’s and the others. Have something different other than the ponytail.

“Omega,” Emerie began. She held her datapad close to her. “Can you braid my hair? Please?”

Omega stopped toying with her hair and faced Emerie. She gave her a smile. “Of course I can!”

Emerie smiled. She was happy Omega accepted her request. Omega patted the small cold bunk she slept on every night, signaling Emerie to sit down.

Emerie took her glasses off and undid her ponytail, allowing her dark brown locks to fall onto her shoulders. It was a breath of relief whenever her hair was let out of that tight ponytail after a long day of work. Omega sat up on her knees and got to work.

Emerie’s hair was soft and beautiful. Omega separated her hair into three and wrapped them around to create a comfortable braid for her.

“Hunter showed me how to do this. He said a clone named 99 helped him learn how to after Hunter saw it on the holonet during non-training hours in their room on Tech’s datapad.”

That number sounded familiar, but Emerie couldn’t remember. It felt like a fleeting memory.

“I’ll teach you how to do it too! It took me a while to get the hang of it, it takes a lot of practice. Hunter said the same thing."

“I would love that.” Emerie would prefer it if Omega always braided her hair for her. She continued listening to Omega talk about her family. Emerie hoped she could meet them and get to know them one day, but she knew it might not be under the right circumstances.

For now, Emerie loved spending time with her sister. She was safe with her, and that’s all that mattered.

Nini's Writing Masterlist

taglist: @summer-of-bad-batch @orion-tyche @bossboudicca @magicandmundane @kurlyfrii @ahsokashawarma1138 @locitapurplepink @marvel-starwarsfangirl

#star wars #the bad batch #summerofbadbatch2024 #tbb #sw tbb #the bad batch season 3 #tbb s3 #the bad batch omega #emerie karr #the bad batch hunter #tbb omega #tbb emerie #tbb hunter #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb fanfiction

60 notes · View notes

statementlou · 1 year

Note

hello :) could you maybe explain a little bit how dan wootton blackmailed louis?

ugh sorry for taking a while to get to this. The problem is I feel like the only two ways to answer this are by spending a week and a half of full time labor sifting through old posts and evidence to get every detail right and lay out an airtight case, or to halfass something very serious, and so I felt a little stuck. So since I can't seem to find a good halfway point, apologies but here is the half assed version, if you want to get into it more I invite you to do your own deep dive or talk to other people, but here's how I remember things. Louis has almost never on video explicitly said things about Larry not being real and/or anything negative about fans and their theories (mostly the opposite), up until the last couple years when he obviously decided to make a major change he didn't talk about Freddie much at all let alone saying he was his kid, honestly not that much about Eleanor even; except for in two major interviews with Dan Wootton, each of which lined up with a serious traumatic Tomlinson family event that they managed to keep out of the tabloids until the very end (Jay's illness and Fizzy's struggles with substance abuse). After the fact of those events a lot of small things that didn't make sense at the time came together to look very much like Louis traded those interviews (and those answers) for having his family's private matters kept private. Story trading of this kind is a publicly known real thing that happens, and there were various clues that suggested he was being leaned on about those stories to lend legitimacy to the idea that it was something that happened in these cases. Given what we know about Dan Wootton and how he operates even before the recent flood of information and even more now, I think it's more than likely that he has been holding the threat of outing Louis (as he has done to many other public figures) over his head for over a decade, and has used his family's tragic struggles to get Louis to dance like a fucking puppet for him and I will REJOICE at his downfall when it comes whether it is now or 20 years from now... because someday it will, he has made too many enemies to stay above it forever

#I did start to try to deep dive before I realized it was too much #but I was reminded that when Louis was doing txf as a judge while fizzy was struggling #many people thought he had been pressured somehow into it; later when we knew what had been going on people were like #oh maybe he just wanted to be close to home to deal with fizzy stuff or somethng #but also: keeping fizzy stuff quiet would potentially be the info we didn't have at that time that could answer that q too of what they use #given the DW🤝simon jones🤝simon cowell cursed connections #(for the newbies: simon jones aka DWs bestie is Louis' publicist for no apparent reason even now long after he has gotten free of the rest #of the modest/syco/simon cowell shitshow)#anyway another example of story trading in our fandom is zayn's baby sister's teen pregnancy #which was known to the fandom early on but kept super quiet by respectful fans- during this time Z did some unprecedented actual interviews #for no obvious reason #and then iirc pretty much the day she turned 17 a very lowkey article reported on her marrying her bf and mentioning a pregnancy #but as if it was recent not like 7 months along #and even when she gave birth soon after it was all kind of... glossed over and around and not reported until a little later #blah blah blah #I felt like it was weird to talk about this for some reason but when I thought about it #I don't know if it matters. Like maybe talking about him not being a dad and being gay or whatever at all is bad #but assuming we're doing that anyway. why not talk about the struggles around that #and the creeps holding it over his head #dan wootton

290 notes · View notes

butterfilledpockets · 1 year

Text

beep beep mother fucker wake up and smell the AUs

(aka the Aus that have ben stuck in my mind for too long and now they are unleashed)

first up-

Turtles are Strange (Life is strange au)

I thought- hey, Mikey and Max both got time travel powers, what am I to do with this? And then I made this thing.

Little details about the designs:

Donnie has a tattoo of Leo's red crest marks on each of his forearms

Mikey is wearing one of Donnie's spare shirts in the art bellow

Donnie is wearing one of Leo's shirts under his jacket

Mikey's jacket is Max's OG jacket from the games

(WARNING THIS IS NOT A HAPPY ONE) If you know the game's plot YOU KNOW

(I have changed a lot from the OG game there is ZERO romance except for a brief appearance from Usagi and a small subplot) (and I've also removed some of the more triggering aspects due to personal reasons)

Long story short, Big Mama and Splinter split up, and she takes Donnie in the divorce. Afraid to loose anymore of his family, Splinter packs up and leaves Arcadia with Raph, Leo and Mikey, taking them far away to the city. This happening when they were 12-14

About two years down the line, Leo runs away to reunite with his twin in Arcadia Bay, which he does. Mikey and Raph stay behind in the city, Mikey to young to really understand what's going on, and Raph insistent on staying with pops.

Years later, Mikey decides he wants to go to Blackwell Academy in his old hometown, as he wants to see his family and study photography/painting. Mikey discovers he has time powers during a fight in the bathroom where he saves the life of one of the people.

This turns out to be Donnie, who has grown rougher and bitter, as he feels he was left behind by his family.

And now, Leo is missing.

(I have the ENTIRE plot of this AU written, and if you guys wanna hear more PLEASE SAY SO)

originally this was gonna be a full multi choice comic, but I couldn't settle on an art style I liked that was quick and easy to draw, and I am not paid enough/lh to draw a fully rendered comic like that.

here is the other AU

#GOD this has been eating my brain like a little worm for MONTHS #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #smarts and crafts #life is strange au #god I sped ran these drawings SO QUICKLY my hand is on the ground it has detached itself from my arm #tc*st fuck the hell off #I just wanna listen to the game music whilst drawin an thinkin of turtles #tmnt au

297 notes · View notes

gvfgal · 5 months

Text

6. Everything That Becomes Us.

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

18+ Story, Minors not welcomed.

A/n: Here’s chapter 6! As always, enjoy, and please let me know if you’d like to be added to the Taglist! 🍾

Content Warnings: drinking, smoking, mentions of criminal activity, mention & depiction of serious illness, allusions to violence against reader, weird father relationships… think that’s it!

Word Count: 3.5k

The following morning ushered in an unexpected sense of domesticity that was a stark departure from the chaos that often defined Jake’s past. While you maneuvered in the kitchen concocting breakfast, Jake wrestled with the obstinate washing machine that had rudely interrupted the tranquility of the morning hours earlier.

A formal breakfast was a rare luxury in his tumultuous upbringing, reserved for occasions shadowed by his mother’s fleeting presence and often marred by the underlying tension of impending departure or discord with Rex. Thus, the simple act of someone preparing breakfast for him purely out of kindness struck a chord within Jake, hinting at the semblance of stability and care he had secretly long yearned for.

However, that morning stuck out to Jake for an entirely different reason. He’d be replaying the small series of events over again in his head later, as he’d do with a lot of different instances surrounding you.

He remembered the details vividly:

As he meticulously pieced the washing machine back together, the mundane task was punctuated by the shrill ring of your cell phone echoing through the trailer. Each passing moment seemed to elongate as Jake strained to discern your hesitation before you finally answered.

Jake, unaccustomed to eavesdropping, initially dismissed the snippets of conversation drifting from the kitchen. With the task completed and a bead of sweat wiped from his brow, he eagerly made his way towards the promise of breakfast. However, his steps faltered mid-stride as the tone of your voice shifted to a secretive whisper, one tinged with an urgency that seized his attention. A sense of unease crept over him, an inner conflict warring between respecting your privacy and the compulsion to understand the weight of your words.

Frozen in the hallway, Jake grappled with the dilemma of intrusion versus ignorance. Though he had never been one to eavesdrop, the gravity of the situation left him with no choice but to linger in the shadows to silently bear witness to the conversation unfolding behind closed doors.

“Look mom,” you sounded sincere yet assertive, “I get that you’re sick, but I can’t come back there, you know that. Not after what happened…”

Jake’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossed his features as he continued to listen, grappling with a sense of guilt for intruding on the private conversation.

"Mom, you know I don’t have that kind of money… Yes, but… If I give you everything I’ve saved up, I'll be back at square one, and all the progress I've made here would be for nothing..."

A whirlwind of questions stormed through Jake's mind as he lingered in that hallway, overhearing snippets of your cryptic conversation.

What dark chapter from your past barred the doors to your childhood home? Why were you secretly stashing money away?

Caught in the grip of curiosity and discomfort, Jake sought refuge in the kitchen, a feeble attempt to escape the weight of the revelations unfolding before him. You deftly flipped the last pancake on the stove as he entered, your phone still pressed against your ear.

Sensing his presence, you turned, a smile adorning your face. Your voice shifted to a tone of casual innocence as you swiftly wrapped up the call, doing your best to conceal the true gravity of the discussion from Jake's prying ears.

"Yeah, so anyways, mom, I'll, uh, get back to you on that as soon as I can… Mhmm… yeah, love you too… Bye."

Relieved that Jake's attention was elsewhere, you poured a glass of orange juice from the fridge, masking the discomfort that churned within you.

You set your phone down on the counter and focused on the task at hand, plating the pancakes alongside the sizzling bacon, eggs, and an array of fruits. Relieved that Jake’s attention was elsewhere, pouring a glass of orange juice by the fridge, you swallowed down the tumult of emotions stirred by the conversation, and made a conscious effort to maintain a façade of composure until Jake's departure.

"That was your mom?" Jake's casual inquiry floated across the kitchen as he leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on you as you busied yourself with the breakfast preparations.

"Yeah," you chirped, forcing a veneer of cheerfulness into your voice, though your back remained turned to him, "she, uh, just needed help with something."

Sensing the weight of his stare boring into your back, you turned to meet his gaze, mustering your best grin in an attempt to deflect any further probing into the nature of the call.

Clad in a black tank top that accentuated his tattoos and the muscular definition of his arms, Jake leaned against the counter, his hair cascading loosely around his shoulders. As you admired his relaxed appearance, a gentle smile graced his lips, but the subtle furrow of his brow betrayed the wheels turning in his mind. You couldn't help but wonder how much of the conversation he had overheard.

A heavy silence settled over the kitchen until Jake finally broke it, his voice tinged with concern.

"You okay?"

You nodded hastily, perhaps a bit too eager to dismiss any lingering tension, "I'm fine."

You could sense Jake's desire to delve further into the matter, but a silent understanding passed between you, a mutual agreement to let the conversation rest for now. There was a palpable tension in the air, a recognition that some truths were not yet ready to be unearthed.

He pushed himself off the counter and began crossing the kitchen with purpose. Your heart quickened its pace in response, and you flinched, which Jake noted and tucked away in the recesses of his mind before he enveloped you in a gentle embrace. A tender kiss planted on your forehead ignited a surge of protectiveness within him, reinforcing the depth of his affection.

His hold on you was firm, as if he believed he could shield you from the world's troubles simply by holding you close in that moment. Though countless uncertainties loomed regarding the nature of your conversation with your mother, Jake couldn't shake the unwavering conviction that whatever skeletons resided in your closet, they wouldn't deter his feelings for you.

As your eyes locked in a silent exchange, a myriad of emotions passed between you, punctuated by Jake's warm smile.

You felt a deepening attraction towards him, a desire to nurture this burgeoning connection with each passing day. You wanted to cook him breakfast for a million days to come.

“I’m hungry,” he lilted.

With a playful peck on his lips, you turned to retrieve the plate you had prepared, inviting him to partake in the breakfast you had lovingly prepared, “come and get it.”

Jake chuckled at your playful demeanor, his eyes alight with affection. "Don't talk to me like that, woman, you know what it does to me."

After breakfast, Jake was on the move, headed to the Tavern for a crucial meeting with the club members. The objective: devise a complete strategy to infiltrate Bobby's casino and seize control of his finances.

Fortuitously, Jake had already sketched the framework of the plan; now it was up to the gang to flesh out the finer details.

Sequestered in their private room at the back of the bar, the men engaged in a marathon brainstorming session, fueled by copious amounts of alcohol that seemed to defy the limits of Riley's inventory.

The hours proved mentally taxing for Jake, who found himself thrust into a leadership role, given that the plan had sprung from his initial idea. As the group delved deeper into the intricacies of their scheme, Jake navigated the delicate balance between guiding the discussion and fostering collaboration.

The overarching objective of the plan was straightforward: infiltrate and establish a foothold. However, the devil was in the details.

The Barbarians, armed with their financial leverage over Bobby's casino, planned a direct and aggressive takeover. Prior to this, Alejandro's financial experts would conduct an internal audit to scrutinize the casino's financial records. Concurrently, 8-ball, their reliable reconnaissance expert, along with a team of Barbarians, would meticulously examine the security protocols, identifying vulnerabilities and discrepancies. They would also gauge the loyalty of key staff members to anticipate potential challenges or cooperation during the takeover. Once these preliminary assessments were complete, the Barbarians would be briefed on their specific roles and responsibilities for the impending operation.

This part of the plan was a strategic power play, a calculated display of authority designed to assert the Barbarians' dominance over Bobby Thompson. That, and it left little room for resistance. If they didn’t see it coming, they wouldn’t have time to retaliate.

Upon successfully infiltrating the casino, the real work would commence. With assistance from Alejandro's operatives, the Barbarians would assume control of all operational facets. They would take charge of security to neutralize any potential resistance, gain access to the casino's financial systems, including the vault and registers, and begin discreetly redirecting funds through covert channels to avoid detection.

Given Alejandro's insistence on receiving his share in cash, an additional layer of complexity was introduced to the operation. All diverted funds would be funneled into the Barbarians' club account, covertly managed by their trusted accountant and stored securely until the time of transfer.

It was a solid plan, meticulously crafted to minimize the risk of detection. If executed with precision, they could execute the entire operation within the six months window without raising any red flags with law enforcement. After all, the federal authorities were unlikely to be overly concerned with a medium-sized casino tucked away in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada.

With the plan finalized, the meeting came to a close, leaving the Barbarians to await the right moment to set their scheme in motion.

Ace couldn't help but notice Jake's natural leadership qualities as he contributed to the formulation of the plan. Despite all Jake's modesty, there was an undeniable aura of authority that seemed to emanate from him effortlessly.

However, the meeting had taken its toll on Jake, leaving him feeling mentally drained. And with you having left Riley's a few hours earlier, Jake was eager to head home. Yet, as he approached the exit, Ace intercepted him, his grip firm on Jake's arm. Without uttering a word, Ace produced a thick wad of cash, all in hundred-dollar bills, and displayed it before him.

Aware that the Barbarians always had various revenue streams, however minor, Jake surmised that this must be the source of the money. His gaze shifted from the cash to Ace and back again, estimating the sum to be around five thousand dollars, if not more, leaving him puzzled.

"What's this for?" Jake queried, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Leaning in, Ace responded, "consider it payment for your contributions."

Jake scoffed, "but I haven't done anything."

Ace met his gaze knowingly, "your role in shaping that plan was more than enough."

Jake's eyes lingered on the cash, but his thoughts quickly veered in a different direction.

It was curious how you managed to permeate his thoughts at the most unexpected moments. Now, with five thousand dollars in hand, his mind was consumed with only the desire to give it all to you.

Recalling your earlier phone call, Jake felt an overwhelming urge to ease any burdens you might be carrying, even though much about you remained shrouded in mystery.

Almost impulsively, Jake turned to Ace and blurted out, "what do you know about Cherry?"

Ace chuckled, having anticipated this question would eventually surface, but he had always assumed it would be on Jake's terms. While Ace harbored his own questions about you, he suspected his insights might not fully satisfy Jake's curiosity. Nevertheless, he was willing to share what he knew.

As they stood by the bar, Ace gestured to the nearest stool. Sensing the impending conversation, Jake took a seat beside him.

A nod to the bartender was all it took; she immediately began preparing Ace's usual drink without the need for words.

"To be frank, kid," Ace began, turning his full attention to Jake, "I don't know much. None of us do. But I'll share what I do know."

Two Years Ago

A raspy cough echoed from Riley's frail form as he stepped outside his trailer, watering can in hand. The relentless cancer that had taken hold of him intensified the pain of the smoker's cough he had developed over the years. With each passing day, his strength waned, and after undergoing treatments that had proven futile, he had decided to forego further interventions, opting instead to focus on managing his pain and comfort as he neared the end of his life.

At sixty-three , Riley had lived a life marked by resilience and dedication, spending over half of those years as a formidable member of the Barbarians. He had seen and experienced more than most would in two lifetimes, yet it was cancer that proved to be his final adversary.

As he looked at his reflection, the gauntness of his features and the pallor of his skin made him appear as though he was already a shadow of his former self. Despite this, he found himself standing outside the trailer he had called home for the past forty-five years, tending to a flower garden that would more than likely outlive him.

Riley's thoughts drifted to his cherished Tavern, a place that held as much importance to him as his allegiance to the brotherhood. He wondered about its fate once he was no longer around. While he trusted the Barbarians to care for it, the uncertainty of not being there to oversee its well-being troubled him.

Lost in these thoughts, the sound of approaching tires caught his attention. Initially dismissing it, he grew curious as the idling engine came to a halt outside his home, revealing a Nevada cab at the end of the dusty driveway.

Observing a middle-aged cab driver assisting an unfamiliar visitor, Riley's attention was immediately drawn to your face. A rush of emotions surged within him as he recognized you, a sensation he had never felt before. He was stunned; the last he had heard from you was when you were just five years old, and the last time he had seen you in person was when you were merely two, before your mother had taken you away to Texarkana.

Confused and intrigued, he couldn't fathom why, after all these years, you were suddenly standing at his doorstep.

He watched as the man retrieved a couple of duffle bags from the trunk, while you struggled with a crumpled wad of cash in your hand before completing the exchange. He wondered how much you had to pay to get a cab to bring you all the way out there.

As you approached, the details of your appearance became clearer. Riley's gaze immediately landed on the remnants of a black eye on your right side, accompanied by several smaller bruises along your forearm. Though you wore jeans, Riley suspected there were likely more bruises hidden beneath.Despite his concern, he chose to remain silent on the matter, sensing that, like him, you probably didn't want to discuss it.

As you made your way up the driveway, you took in Riley's appearance as well. He looked even more unwell than you had anticipated, a stark contrast to the stories your mother had shared about him. The ravages of cancer were evident.

Setting down his watering can just as you reached him, Riley greeted you with a simple, "Hey, kid."

The reunion between father and daughter, after over fifteen years apart, was surprisingly subdued. Both of you seemed to have too much on your minds to make a fuss about it.

"Hey, Dad," you replied, your voice trembling slightly, offering him a tentative smile given the circumstances.

An awkward silence hung in the air as you both assessed each other's worn appearance, yet also noticed the shared features that confirmed your relationship.

"What are you doin’ here?"

Riley's question made you second-guess your decision to come without even a phone call. The risk of showing up unannounced suddenly seemed more apparent, but you also knew the alternative was far worse.

"My mom told me you were sick, terminal," you stammered, avoiding his eyes as you looked towards the blooming flower garden he had been tending, "I came to help. You know, take care of you."

Riley could see through your words, recognizing that caring for a man battling terminal prostate cancer was likely not high on your priority list. However, he sensed that you had come for a reason, possibly running from something—or someone.

The fear that consumed you was palpable, evident in your posture and demeanor. You had become fear.

Realizing that he had not been the best father during your formative years, Riley felt compelled to offer you refuge from whatever troubles you were facing. As a Barbarian, he was no stranger to trouble, and he believed he could shield you from it.

In addition, your presence would provide him with much-needed companionship in his final days, rather than sporadic visits from club members. With you, he would have the company of genuine family.

And of course, if you were willing, you could take over the operations at the Tavern.

It seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Finally, a grin spread across Riley's face, and you couldn't help but notice how eerily similar his smile was to yours. "Come on in, we'll get you settled."

You tightened your grip on your bags as Riley gestured for you to enter, feeling a glimmer of hope that being there might offer you the sanctuary you so desperately sought from the looming darkness.

"Watch out for my flowers. Don’t step on ‘em," Riley chided, adding a touch of normalcy to this unexpected reunion.

"That's the only story Riley ever shared with me," Ace admitted, taking a sip of his beer and studying Jake's reaction. "After that, he didn't talk much about her."

Jake nodded, realizing this might be the extent of the information he'd receive, leaving him with conflicting feelings.

"It's not that Riley was secretive or malicious," Ace elaborated, reminiscing about the times when Riley was still with them. "He was just protective, and we respected that. Even after his passing, we still do."

Jake understood the protective sentiment, feeling a similar urge to shield you, albeit not in the same paternal manner as Riley. His feelings for you were complex and puzzling.

"She was incredible for Riley during his final months, by his side when he passed, helped organize his funeral, and has been managing the hell outta this Tavern," Ace recounted with a chuckle. "So, we just leave it at that."

The story left Jake with more questions than answers, yet he found himself strangely content with the information provided.

Ace extended the folded hundred-dollar bills to Jake once again, and this time he accepted them, tucking them into his front pocket before finishing off his beer.

"Thanks, as always, you're appreciated," Jake said to Ace, making a beeline for the exit.

Ace chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That boy is in way deeper than he thinks."

Jake found you just after you’d finished showering, your hair wrapped in a towel and wearing a faded Kentucky Derby t-shirt that he remembered once belonged to Riley. Your face lit up with a smile at his arrival, which only fueled his determination to carry out his plan with the money he had obtained.

"Hey, handsome," you greeted, visibly relieved by his presence.

In response, Jake pulled the money from his pocket and handed it to you, mimicking the gesture Ace had made with him earlier. Your confusion mirrored his own when Ace had done the same to him.

"Jake, what the hell is this?"

"I heard you on the phone earlier," he explained, the words tumbling out as if he couldn't hold them back any longer.

You felt a familiar tension creep back into your muscles at the mention of the phone call, but you remained silent, waiting to see what else he had to share.

"Save your money," Jake said softly, his tone filled with care, “use this to help your mom, and if you need more, just let me know, okay?"

Stunned, you found yourself unable to accept the money. You knew the funds were likely from Barbarian activities, but that was the least of your concerns. You couldn't comprehend why he was so willing to give it to you. His generosity was unfamiliar and overwhelming. First, the truck, and now this.

You were certain Jake wasn't expecting anything in return; his generosity was genuine.

"Take it," he urged gently, “please, Cherry?"

Reluctantly, you reached out and accepted the stash, noting that the bills were mostly, if not all, hundreds.

The money was providing a lifeline for you in ways Jake couldn't possibly understand, making you feel as though he was the catalyst for positive change in your life.

Still holding the money, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a tender kiss on his lips, savoring the taste of beer and tobacco. "Why are you so good, Jacob?"

Hearing you call him by his full name sent a shiver down his spine. He looked down at you, shaking his head slightly, and admired the way your still-wet lashes clung together. "I'm no good, Cherry. I'm just good for you."

You kissed him again to keep yourself from saying what you wanted to say next.

You’re not good for me, Jake. You’re too good for me.

7. Who Do You Belong To?

Taglist: @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @wetkleenex-gvf @hollyco

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fic #greta van fleet smut #jake gvf #greta van smut #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #gvf fic #greta van angst #jake greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiskza smut #gvf imagine #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction

42 notes · View notes

casually-slips-into-coma · 4 months

Text

spoilers for iwtv s2e4

my thoughts after a rewatch:

i know claudia hates the baby loves window play but she ate up that little song

the lulu role really is so humiliating :(

louis’ expressions whenever he watches these plays always kills me lmao he hates theater kids

louis and armand talking over each other to daniel

armands theater notes lol

claudia no eyebrow big eyeliner look is kinda cunty ngl

im a fan of sam the irish vampire

making claudia be lulu all the time oooh armand i hate u so bad

almost threw up watching louis and armand give different answers to the companion question IN FRONT OF THE COVEN that shit was so embarrassing

i wouldve kms if i was armand

vamp catfight

armand stuck in this situationship dont worry king we’ve all been there😔

literally telling each other i love you and still having the what are we conversation

“do you notice how hot the room gets when you two talk about the secret” plsssss

louis only able to use the fire gift when hes angry👀👀 gee i wonder if thats gonna come back👀👀👀👀👀

louis going🤨🤨 to the schizophrenia question like it came out of nowhere

armands face while louis talked about dreamstat why not just shoot me in the head

loving these dutch angles whenever daniel dissociates and gets an armand memory

santiago looks so good in the gold suit? robe thing??

claudia santiago friendship is killing me santiago i know what u are

claudia killing the guy singing baby lu

i like that you can tell claudias french has gotten better. nice small detail

i love scenes of louis and claudia just talking about non vampire things

santiago mimicking louis was pretty cool

buffoon sighting!!!

whole dinner scene bangs

the guy saying theres smth “fragile” about armand in the photo louis took and louis saying “no he’s anything but” and then the guy saying “you’ve captured the soul he hides” 🤌🤌

louis would never survive a 4 hour art school critique

daniel telling a girl he’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head??????

claudeline truthers how are we feeling

context for the eating paper clip in the trailer

romeo!!

armand is so down bad its sick

madeline tailoring a yellow dress for claudia😟😟

the whole claudeline interaction was great

amadeo☹️🔫

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!

the way armand talks about marius

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF x2!!!!!!

“no one has painted me in 400 years” fuck

madeline period blood moment. theres so much here about femininity and maturing might make a separate post about this scene

armand pinning claudia against a wall armand i hate you so bad

we already know that armand is powerful but seeing him choke and manhandle santiago really solidified that i think

picked another one over me!!

delainey is ACTINGGGGG

louis not believing claudia about armand ooooh louis i hate you so bad

love makes you stupid clock it

louis still referring to claudia as his daughter in his head (thru dreamstat)

louis just actively talking to himself girl do that in your head

park bench moment <3

“wanker” i giggled sorry

that suit is his favorite on him :(

“im a little wet” and armand instantly pulling out an umbrella, armand lighting his cigarette, armand calling him maitre

louis calling him arun and armand calling him maitre and then louis throwing away the lighter this fucking scene is cinematic art

the other coven members calling santiago maitre

i kinda like that daniel can hear them arguing from another room. i feel like its a very human experience? really domestic? even given the circumstances

armands eyes were never brown!!!

san francisco flashback episode might kill me im not kidding

insane way to end the episode

ok this was much longer than i thought it would be but this episode has a lot in it. each episode gets better and better and this is definitely my favorite of the season so far.

i am LOVING louis and armands relationship and also both of their story arcs and characterizations. their dynamic is kind of the opposite of what i, and i think a lot of other people, expected but it still makes total sense and im enjoying it a lot

god i love this show

#iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #vampterview #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #loumand #iwtv s2e4

44 notes · View notes

tacobellabeanburrito · 5 months

Note

hey it’s anon — you’ve become my go to rec person, which is why I’m here to ask if you have any recommendations for short and sweet fics. Been looking for some bedtime stories :^)

Awwww, really!? That’s super cool. I’m glad I’ve been recommending good fics!

(Also, Anon, you’re the one that asked about Steel Samurai fics right? Well, I started reading this one called “A Brief For The Defense” by Ophelia_Writes on ao3, so check that one out cause it talks about what you were looking for a while back!)

(Also. I was searching for Christmas fics in my bookmarks just because the Christmas fics are usually the ones that are short and sweet, but now I’m really in the mood for Christmas how dare you Anon)

“Office-Appropriate” by cursedwurn: A hilarious Halloween fanfic that I adore. Featuring all the prosecutors in different costumes. Has an office sitcom type feel (People are seriously, SERIOUSLY, missing out on writing a prosecutors office sitcom type deal. For some reason, sitcom style doesn’t work for the Wright Anything Agency and mainly only works with the Prosecutors Office)

“Disrupting The Calendar” by 3musketears: Also a cute Christmas fic. I’m currently trying to find fics that are short and sweet and I found this one again in my bookmarks and as I started reading it to check if it was good I just kept getting into it and reading it. So yeah, good fic!

“Germination” by Ekat: I JUST READ THIS ONE. Omg, it’s soooo adorable. And absolutely hilarious. You just have to read it, really. It’s short and you can probably guess the real plot from a mile away but I don’t wanna spoil anything because I was so happy when I figured it out. It’s adorable.

“Court Record Companion” by rib14: I Remmeber revealing in this fic when I first read it. I’m also a big sucker for certain fics where the story is told by posts, texts, tweets and photos during the course of the story. There’s something so absolutely funny about it.

“Support Player” by Pirate_Jenna: A really good Larry centered fic. I have already mentioned in detail about how Larry has been done bad in lots of fics and in the games, so I am very partial to fics that are centered on “Good Friend Larry”. BECAUSE HE IS.

“Meet Me Down The Aisle” by bluemoodblue: I’m a true sucker for wedding fics, and this one takes the wedding cake! I’m also a sucker for wedding fics that go wrong. And this one also takes the wedding cake!

“This Christmas (I’m Gonna Risk It All)” by Samiolioli (Samioli): A really cute Christmas fic taking place during a holiday party! It’s all about Phoenix confronting his feelings for Miles, and I remember it being hilarious.

“Not What I Expected” by motivationisfortheweak: A Valentine fic set in an alternate universe where Miles and Phoenix go to high school together. Short and sweet, but Phoenix is sooo dense.

“Monster Movie Monday” by contritecacite: A breakaway from the norm! A Klavier centered fic about him getting a boyfriend and making amends with one Phoenix Wright.

“There Is Time To Kill” by realizationtime: Oh, oh bbg. You weren’t survive after this fic. “Maybe we were never meant to be older than nine”.

“A Fool For You” by bluemoodblue: ADORABLE!! It’s a Narumitsu one. I loved this one when I read it. It’s so funny and so perfectly them. Read it.

Ok so, there’s a couple that I personally really like but can’t find in my bookmarks. There’s this one where Miles and Phoenix are stuck in a mall during Christmas, it’s a newer one I know that. It’s absolutely adorable and I fully recommend it if you can find it.

There’s also a really cute one that I remember with Miles and Phoenix as kids making each other Valentines cards, and there’s even a very lovely sequel where they’re older and Trucy finds the card in Phoenix’s stuff! It’s not recent, but I read it recently. It’s very adorable.

Another fic I really like is one where Miles is a worker at a prestigious art museum and gets fired. Then he moves to a small town and ends up with Phoenix as a roommate. It’s actually really, REALLY adorable and pretty funny too. It gives me warm fuzzy sunflower vibes.

OK SO there’s this fic that I remember reading a long while ago, and it’s this one where Phoenix and Miles go to a Steel Samurai orchestra concert and make proposing to each other into a competition. It’s pretty hilarious and I fully recommend it if you ever end up finding it.

AND LASTLY (I think) there’s this fic that’s pretty unknown? I think? It’s absolutely CRAZY. I had no idea what was happening when I was first reading it. I really don’t wanna spoil any details in case you find it on your own. But long story short, through mystical Magatama fuckery, Phoenix and Miles end up in their own weird, fucked up worked where they’ve forgotten all their memories and are married. Characters like Trucy, Gumshoe and a lot of the others try to get them out of their own heads and it’s soooo cool and I read it pretty recently but I can not for the life of me find it. It’s really good and super interesting. Has the exact same vibes as “Perfect” by SideBlog (so if you find it, Fic Anon, I full heartedly recommend it)

ALSO IF ANYONE KNOWS THE FICS IM TALKING ABOIT IN THIS SECTION. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DIRECT ME. They’re soooo good.

These are ones that aren’t short and aren’t really sweet but that I feel should get highlights because I didn’t mention them in my other post (I don’t think):

“Everything That I Have Ever Learned Leads Back To This” by kbots: Oh. Oh this one is… Oh my goodness. SAD. I actually cried while reading this one. Like. Holy shit. Good luck not crying while reading this. It’s amazing and should have more hits.

“All The Better To See You With” by bluemoodblue: OH. Oh. I love this one. We love Trucy hating Kristoph. (Fuck Kristoph Gavin, all my homies hate Kristoph Gavin).

ANYWAY! That’s about all of them, for now at least. Again, full recommend looking at my bookmarks on A3O for other stories because this list isn’t even half of the short and sweet ones I’ve read.

AND! Also, if anyone knows the fics that I talked about in the, uh, other half of this fic ref lists where I don’t know the names but only know the stories. PLEASE DIRECT PEOPLE TO THEM IN THE REPLIES!! Or at least tell me or something cause they’re good.

Good luck reading Anon! Ask again if you need anymore recs! ;>

53 notes · View notes

artsofmetamoor · 18 days

Note

Hey! I want you to know never doubt it, your art is FAN-TASTIC 👀 and it deserves all the praise it can get! 💖✨️❤️

How do you come up with your designs for the characters? Diego in particular; how did you come up with the design or the color scheme and the like! Seems a complicated process of thought!

Thank you so much for your incredibly kind words, it means a lot!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh gosh, there's a bit to unpack here, but I'll try not to drag it! Diego is an interesting choice, not many people ask me about him, you are very attentive stranger! It's kind of funny because when I first created him he had a simple antagonistic role, mainly because I didn’t have much experience with character design or storytelling at the time. Both him and my skills are still growing.

When designing a character, I start by exploring their personality, background, and role in the story. So now I aimed to capture Diego's inner qualities and flaws, as well as how his environment and relationships influence him. From his pose, to the way he carries himself, his expressions, the silhouette of his body e.t.c. all of that must hint to the viewer who is is as a person.

For instance Diego has mostly the role of an archer in the rebellion, so he should have well-developed upper arms and shoulders. However, given his stealthy and cunning nature, I imagined him to be toned and athletic rather than overly muscular despite being a warrior. Additionally, Diego has a subtle 'posh' vibe to him even when he's being erratic, which I try to show through small details like elegant movements or the gestures of his hands.

After deciding his body structure I move over to all the other details that add to his character. For example I also wanted his clothes to balance his personality with his role in a rebellion, so they are a bit more elegant for a rebel, reflecting his slightly vain nature, but I also tried to portray them as practical. Everything he wears has a purpose, whether it’s for mobility, stealth, or durability in battle. The elegance in his attire is subtle, maybe in the cut of his tunic or the way his boots are laced, but it’s there, showing that he’s someone who cares about how he presents himself. Now that I think about it Diego is pretty much like an elf ranger 😆

As far as his colors go, one of the first things I knew I wanted for Diego was red hair. Even though it’s a bit cliché, I felt it symbolized the fiery aggression he carries inside. As his character developed, the red hair came to represent not just aggression, but also his passion, determination, and his intense need to prove himself (feelings he often keeps hidden). The color also reflects how he loves fiercely, sometimes to the point of self-destruction. I focused on keeping his hair red and built the color scheme around it because having that one fixed detail made the rest of the design process easier for me.

After that I used complementary and softer colors such as greens and earthly browns to highlight his outfit, eyes e.t.c.

It can definitely seem daunting to create something from scratch, I always try to go back to basics so things don't turn into a rumble in my head. For example, when I'm choosing color schemes for either characters or environments I tend to just look back at color theory, and I know that might seem dull, but it’s incredibly important and useful for understanding how colors interact and complement each other (just like it is important to understand anatomy for drawing figures).

I won’t dive into the technical details since there are plenty of online tutorials, but one reference I highly recommend is James Gurney’s book Color and Light. It’s been a game-changer for me and it's a tool I frequently return to when I feel stuck in my coloring process:

youtube

Palette generators are also useful resources:

https://color.adobe.com/create/color-wheel

Even stuff like character creator and dress-up games can be surprisingly effective for inspiration and kick starting a base for character designs and color schemes if you are feeling stuck. Some of our most beloved original characters started from this, combined with the techniques I mentioned above. For example, Dilla was initially created by @katerinaaqu using one of these games (left). I then drew her and fleshed out her body structure and tailored her appearance to better fit her personality and physical descriptions, as we both envisioned her (right) :

With this I also must point out that the development of Diego and the entirety of Chronicles of Metamoor was a team effort. My friend @katerinaaqu, an awesome writer who collaborates with me on this project, played a big role in shaping these characters. Her detailed descriptions, stories, and insights were very important to bring them all to life ❤️

I think this is all for now. I apologize if this explanation was a bit general, but if you (or anyone else) have more questions about Diego’s design or any of our other characters, or even just any general question feel free to ask! Your support and interest in my art and our story mean a lot to me, thank you so much! ❤️🌹

#artsofmetamoor reply #character design #Diego #chronicles of metamoor #original character #collab with katerinaaqu #artists on Tumblr #metamoor #meridian #diego original character #w.i.t.c.h.#w.i.t.c.h

12 notes · View notes

mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year

Note

Greetings, hope you're doing god. I love your stories, specially the ones with disposal, they are the best! I love how you always puts lots of details in your concepts and makes every one unique.

So here is a mass vore idea for you. A furry goes to a furrycon, and as the event progresses, he eats many other guests, stretching his fursuit with dozens of people. After some time, burping parts of animal costumes and other belongings, the furry digests everyone, and here's the best part (in my opinion). After the feast, it's time to release his preys again, but as his now bigger belly is pressed firmly against the fursuit, he can't unzip it and ends up soiling his own costume.

Yeah, I like this idea a lot! I’ll definitely write something for it.

Jay was more than excited to show off the new suit he made for this con. It's made especially for his eating habits, as his badge points out--he's a pred. Of course, f.urcon preds always have the issue of their suits stretching or ripping or popping open when they try to eat and it completely ruins the immersion. But Jay's going to show off that he can fix that problem!

At first, no one really notices. Slurping down a couple of people with prey badges? Doesn't really matter much, other than some comments suggesting he take a break. His suit is already stretching over a stuffed gut, and the bulky suits his prey are wearing much them even bigger than that'd have been before. But Jay has no intention to slow down. He has no need to!

By the time he's shoved the firth pair of kicking legs through the maw of his suit and down his own gullet, he's started getting attention. Prey furs want to see if he can fit more, pred furs want to know how he made the suit, and everyone in between seems to be enjoying the small show. Jay is soaking up the attention.

Gulp, gulp, gulp! "Yeah, I used this type or rubber base for the suit." Slurp, slurp, slurp. "It's layered, too, so it pops out further the more I eat!" Gllk, gllk, gllk! "It's expensive, sure, but it's worth it! Making a whole new suit because you ripped out of your last one is way more expensive." He's happy to chat about how he made it and how it works for all the onlookers in between each prey fur. His gut is getting massive, gurgling and churning harshly as it gets right to work. He's not even counting how many people he's downed anymore. What's it matter, when his suit will hold on just fine?

Pretty soon, his gut is going into overdrive, rumbling and churning harshly as it bears down on all of the meat inside. It makes Jay rather belchy, so it gets harder to brag about his suit when he's letting loose explosive burps. Random pieces of suits flying out of his maw--paws are a common one, and the occasional head manages to come up as well. Plenty of badges splat to the ground as well, showing off the smiling face or suit of someone's who's little more than a boiling gut slop by that point. He even manages to spit up a rather intricate-looking robotic head with a working visor and everything. Too bad whoever it belonged to is on his way to being manure, Jay would have loved to get that guy to help him with a new suit.

At the very least, he gets to show off the fact that the suit stretches around all the weight gain so much easier does as well. Jay's gotten at least twice as heavy, maybe more, so that even his suit looks chubby. He feels lots of curious hands pushing and rubbing over his boiling guts and it just works out more steaming belches. Everything is going great, and the suit is a total success!

...at least...until Jay feels a rather harsh rumbling deep in his bowels. His guts are still churning wetly, but a good amount of his prey have moved deeper through his system and are waiting for release. Jay tries to give the zipper a tug but it's stuck. Was it because his gut is still large? Is the suit moving around so much that it got jammed? He can't figure it out, and the increasingly frantic tugging isn't helping. The pressure comes to a peak when a wet fart rumbles out of him, and Jay releases he's out of time.

Squatting where he is, Jay grunts and pushes. A thick log of shit spreads out of him easily, packed tight with whatever suit pieces flushed through his system along with all the bones. The stretchy quality of the suit means that the bottom begins to bulge outward with the coiling mass pushing inside. But Jay didn't think to make some kind of exit for all of the crap. So all it does is continue to bloat out the bottom of his suit as it continues to slide out.

Jay's now very aware of the fact that a handful of people have been recording him. Likely to show off the new suit to their follows. Now it's showing off the guy soiling his suit with a massive dump. He's glad that his helmet is at least covering his face because he knows it's bright red. Even by the time the bulge is touching the ground, Jay is still going, making a mound behind him as his suit stretches out the logs of shit he's dumping.

By the time he's done, the pile he's made is nearly his size. It's stretching the suit so much that imprints are being made of the various coils of crap and the more solid pieces inside. Bones and skulls and pieces of suits leave distinct bulges on the suit's fabric, leaving little imagination as to what the mess must look like. Despite the massive amount of embarrassment Jay is feeling, people don't seem bothered or upset. If anything, he's getting more attention, people excitedly asking about the suit and its functionality. Some are even asking if he takes commissions.

So...maybe this worked out well after all. But Jay knows he needs to get back to the drawing board. The smell...ugh, god, he has to do something about that fast.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #vore story #oral vore #mass vore #digestion #fatal vore #weight gain #disposal #soiling #ask

57 notes · View notes

shatcey · 6 months

Text

Villain's logic...

My words can… no… will definitely be considered as spoilers for Vlad and Kicho's routes. It's more like thinking out loud… a long and boring for most of you. So if you're not interested in that kind of things, you won't miss anything by skipping.

Controversial characters are usually more loved. They are more interesting, they have more than one side and there is always have some other motive that you can only reveal somewhere in the middle of his sroty. So, characters who seem kind at one moment and cruel at another seem somehow more realistic, they are not as flat as others.

The writers need to somehow find a balance between these seemingly completely polar sides of the character so that we constantly feel on our toes. And explain why he is like this, in a roundabout way so that it's not too obvious and boring.

This is probably one of the reasons we love these characters. The writers have spent a lot of time on them, thinking through a lot of details, and as a result they shine like freshly polished silver.

I don't need to explain why this is not an easy task.

So it's not surprising that there are a lot of characters that aren't as good as they should be. And personally, I think Vlad is one of them.

The contradiction between what he says and what he does is so huge that at some point I thought maybe he had a split personality. But no. He's just… like that. And I'm not a naive girl (like Mai in Kicho's route or Belle in Gilbert's route) who seriously thinks that if we all just hold hands, all problems will be solved. I understand that if you really want to change something and big, you need to make sacrifices, your own or others'. But the way the authors explain it in Vlad's route… I don't see the logic in that.

I am an extremely logical person. I'm a mathematician, after all. So if I notice something in the game that cannot be structured with a simple if/ then it makes me question about the purpose of it. This is not a book, where not everything should have a purpose. It's a short story or a comic (no matter what you call it), something that has a very bordered size. And in order to fit into these boundaries and make the story interesting and dynamic, they must use if/then structures.

He wants to achieve some goal, that's why he does this and that. At the moment, he is behaving uncharacteristically because he has become too emotional and has no idea how to deal with it. That kind of things. Very simple and logical.

But with Vlad...

Vlad loves all people and loves this world. But… people will destroy this world, so he decided to control their thoughts. Not change, but control. It's not perfect, but it makes sense. He wants to find people who will have enough influence to change the way people think. Ok, but there is a small problem here. People change ONLY when they wanna change. Yes, then we are talking about children… their opinion is very flexible. Anything can make them rearrange the structure of their thoughts. But it's not that simple with adults. Sometimes something stuck in our head, but it is impossible to predict who or what it might be. The idea is correct in some ways, but it is not so easy to implement it. You can't get people to listen to one person, believe them, and agree with them… UNLESS they've been used to thinking that way since childhood. OR they became emotionally close to that person. We are more likely to listen to people we know and trust than to complete strangers.

And the second huge logical gap in Vlad's thoughts is… Let's make them fight each other to find out who is the strongest.

...

Why do you even need that? These are not gladiator fights. You wanna achieve the maximum result. Why not use them all? That would make more sense. If Vlad wasn't trying to kill others, but was trying to manipulate them… to win them over to his side… It would be more logical and certainly truly villainous.

And his… These flowers are not strong enough to bloom in my garden… Again, how does physical strength relate to the ability to change a person's mindset?

...

No, I don't get it.

Another thing I didn't feel about his route was... the connection with MC. Very sad story of the faceless women in the portrait does not add up to a complete picture in my head. The chronological MC found the little (almost said Nobunaga… habits are strong) the little Vlad in the closet. The adults told him to hide, just to distract him while they were fighting the humans. Save his psyche or something. Good parents. He felt lonely, but he didn't understand what was going on. So it happened BEFORE he felt hopeless and betrayed, BEFORE he wanted to die. And her words (they didn't stick in my memory at all) somehow give him strength then it finally happens… But he always spoke as if she had appeared at that EXACT moment and saved him. Maybe I missed something… I read his route six months ago and didn't really remember it.

Unlike him in the Kicho's route, the connection between them is so very strong. He memorized her words, word for word, and carried them through the years. Her words shape his whole personality. Everything he is now is the result of her words and actions in his past. He still keeps the promise he made to her, and that's the big part of his personality. And he's even afraid of the rain (I get goosebumps) because she disappeared in the rain. This is what makes readers cry and feel impressed. That's what called a really good writing work. When writers understand their character, you can literally feel it.

Only now I'm starting to understand Vlad BECAUSE I've read Kicho's route. Unexpected, isn't it? Mai tries to change Kicho's behavior to protect his heart. So… he acted like a villain against his own philosophy. He values every life, he wants to save as much as possible, but he chose destruction. And it hurts him to do that, but he doesn't see any other options. And this is the key to understanding Vlad. God, why didn't they explain it in his route? Why do I need to read ANOTHER game to understand the character? It's so wrong.

I'm finishing the interlude in Vampires, which gives a little more information about Vlad's inner struggles, but I wouldn't have understood them if I hadn't read Kicho's route. This is a serious mistake. A huge one. Okay, Mai is smarter than the girl from Vampires. That's probably the reason. MC from Vampires just couldn't understand or couldn't explain it so simply.

Maybe the problem is with me. I don't exclude such a possibility. Maybe I just don't like the narrative in Vampires and I cannot fully immerse myself in the story. And perhaps you all understand Vlad in a way that I will never be able to...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 Start page 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

17 notes · View notes

readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 2 years

Text

An Unexpected Taste of Love: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Darkling x Female Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You are a servant at the Grand Palace, but when a threat to the Second Army’s General leads to the King assigning him a taster, you are forced into a new role that just may be the starting point for a whole new journey.

Author’s note: I haven’t read the books but there may be a couple of small references to them that I have picked up from other sources (other fics, the grishaverse wiki, etc). Other than that, this fic is solely based on the TV show version of the Darkling.

Warnings: Near death experience, The Darkling is his own warning

———————————————————

< Chapter Eight | Masterlist | Chapter Ten >

Waiting for Aleksander to return was the longest few hours of your life. Even when you had been waiting to discuss your kiss with him, you were sure that time had not moved so slow. You had paced the palace grounds multiple times now, venturing further out each time, but still the sun had barely moved in the sky.

‘You look like a woman with something on her mind.’

You jumped at the unexpected voice and spun to face the speaker. You hadn’t even seen the old woman approach you.

You weren’t really surprised by that, though. You may not have met her before, but Baghra’s reputation preceded her. She stuck to the shadows even more than General Kirigan did.

Which made sense, seeing as he was her son.

You had only seen her name once during your reading of Grisha history - in one obscure line in one obscure book - but it had been enough for you to add it to the rest of the story you had figured out.

You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. ‘There’s a lot to think about at the moment,’ you said with as much respect as you could muster at that moment.

Baghra gave a half smile. There was a look in her eyes that told you she knew something you didn’t.

Again, not a surprise.

‘Yes, I suppose the Sun Summoner’s disappearance would cause a tizzy, even amongst the servants,’ she said. ‘Particularly one who has caught the General’s attention.’ She gave you a knowing look and you did your best not to squirm under it. ‘Tell me, how is he doing? I saw him leave earlier.’

Ah, so she was after information. You knew there had to have been a reason she had deigned to speak with you. She wasn’t exactly known for socialising.

You debated lying to her, telling her you hadn’t spoken to Aleksander and that you knew nothing of his plans for Alina… but Baghra was likely the only other person who knew who he really was. She could help you figure out what to expect from him.

‘He is as you would expect,’ you told her. You paused, mulling over your next words. You needed to tread carefully. ‘I presume you know what he planned for Alina and the Fold.’

The corner of Baghra’s lips twitched into a proper smirk, reminding you of Aleksander. ‘Planned?’ she asked. ‘My dear girl, what makes you think his plans have changed just because Alina ran away?’

You fought to keep your expression neutral at the new information. You had thought Alina had been taken, but it seemed that Baghra knew even more than you realised.

Still, that didn’t really change anything, so you told her of your conversation with Aleksander, keeping the details as vague as possible. You definitely didn’t tell her about Ivan getting a lead on Alina’s whereabouts, for instance. You had no idea where Baghra’s loyalties laid, even if she did seem to want to help Alina.

By the end of your tale, Baghra actually looked impressed, if still pitying.

‘My, my, you stood up to the Black General and are still here to speak of it. You must be special. But you must also be a fool if you think a few pretty words can sway his decision.’

One look into Baghra’s eyes told you that she had little faith in her son, and you wondered if maybe you had been wrong about her knowing him. How long had she distanced herself from him and he from her?

‘He is stubborn,’ you agreed, keeping your voice calm even as you bristled inside. ‘And maybe my “pretty words” were not enough, but I don’t think you give your son enough credit. He’s a good man, he just needs to remember it.’

Baghra did not look shocked to hear that you knew the truth of her relationship to Aleksander. If anything, she looked even more impressed.

But impressed or not, she obviously did not share your optimism.

‘We’ll see,’ was all she said before she headed back towards her burrow, leaving you to resume your pacing no less anxious than before.

----

When Aleksander finally did return, it was with Alina in tow. She looked annoyed, but was unharmed and unchained, so you let yourself hope that she was there of her own free will.

Arriving with them was a man you had never seen before. He was wearing a First Army uniform and stuck close to Alina’s side with an air of protectiveness that could only come from a personal connection. You assumed he must have been someone she had served with - maybe even the infamous Mal she used to always speak of before she became close with Aleksander.

Shortly after they arrived, Aleksander announced to the palace that Alina was ready to tear down the Fold, and that they would set out to do so the very next day, accompanying the foreign delegates on their voyage home. This news was met with much excitement, but you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in it. You still had no idea what Aleksander’s true intentions were, and when no one called on you to test Alina’s dinner that night, you started to worry that you wouldn’t find out until after the fact.

That worry was put to rest, however, early the next morning. You had not long risen from bed when there was a knock at your bedroom door. You expected it to be Mina or another servant, but when you answered it, it was Aleksander who was standing in the hallway.

After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, you stepped back and welcomed him inside. You saw a few curious glances from other servants passing by, but you paid them no mind as you shut the door behind you. You had more important things to worry about. Things like finding out if the man you loved was about to become a mass murderer.

‘I had this made for you,’ said Aleksander, holding out a garment bag that had been slung over his forearm. Your brows furrowed as you took it; gifts were the last thing you had expected.

You opened the bag carefully, still not sure what you were expecting, and almost gasped at what you found inside. It was a kefta. A black one, like his, except yours had just a hint of white embroidery on the cuffs and collar.

‘I don’t…’ You trailed off, having absolutely no idea what to say. A few days ago, Aleksander was barely acknowledging your existence, and now he was giving you gifts that were so above your station it was hard to comprehend.

‘I want you to come with us today,’ he said. ‘But not as a servant.’

‘What am I if not a servant?’ you asked, your eyes finally leaving the kefta and settling on Aleksander. Something flashed in his eyes – something territorial – but it was gone in a second. You were suddenly reminded of your thoughts from when you had seen Alina wearing her own black kefta, and how everyone would know what it meant for her to be wearing that colour.

She was his.

‘Is Alina alright?’ you asked, quickly changing the subject. You laid the kefta on your bed and then started searching your drawers for something to wear. Even if you did accept the kefta and went with Aleksander, you could hardly do so in your nightgown.

You could feel Aleksander’s eyes on you, but he didn’t move closer. ‘She is not being coerced into anything, if that’s what you are asking. It would be rather difficult to do so now that she has the full power of the Stag.’

You stopped your rummaging and turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. ‘You found it?’

‘She did. Her and her tracker.’

You put down the dress you were holding and turned to fully face him. ‘So, you aren’t going to control her power?’

Aleksander pulled out your solitary chair and sat down. ‘She’ll still need my help, of course,’ he said. ‘The Stag is a powerful amplifier, but so am I. She’ll need both to destroy the Fold.’

Hope surged through you, and a smile slowly formed on your face. ‘You’re going to destroy it?’

Aleksander sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked more like your Aleksander now, rather than “General Kirigan” or “the Darkling”.

‘You were right,’ he said. ‘Using fear will not give Grisha their freedom. Not permanently. So, I’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work, if things don’t change, I won’t hesitate to do what I must. If Grisha can’t be free, then I’ll at least have them safe.’

You nodded your acceptance. ‘If it comes to that, then I won’t stand in your way.’

You doubted you could stand in his way, even if by some miracle you were in a position to do so, but you understood the significance of this conversation. You knew the words needed to be said.

Aleksander nodded and leaned back in the chair, looking a like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. You knew the feeling.

‘So, will you accompany me?’ he asked, gesturing to the kefta still laying on your bed. You walked over to it and lifted the sleeve, your thumb tracing over the embroidery.

‘How could I refuse?’

----

Unsurprisingly, you rode with Aleksander in his personal carriage – though not his usual one, as that carriage had mysteriously not come back with him when he had returned the day before. Also unsurprisingly, Alina and the First Army soldier (who it turned out was Mal after all) were riding with them.

Well, it was unsurprising to you. Alina, on the other hand, almost took a step back when she saw you.

‘I take it you’re not coming with us to test our food,’ she said once you were on the road and there was no one to overhear. The way she eyed your kefta told you that she was suspicious, not that you blamed her. You were just grateful she wasn’t wearing her own black kefta. That would have been really awkward.

Instead, she was wearing her blue and gold one over her First Army uniform. You liked the symbolism.

‘She’s the reason I changed my plans and let you have the Stag’s power,’ said Aleksander, voice bored and detached as he looked out the window.

Alina raised an eyebrow at you. ‘So, you’re not another one of his spies?’

You frowned at that. Another of his spies?

‘I never spied on you, Miss Starkov,’ you said, genuinely. You may not have been friends exactly, but you didn’t want her to doubt the kindness you had both shown each other. ‘I really am just a normal servant.’

Alina contemplated you for a moment before leaning back in her seat. She and Mal still looked rather curious and a little bit dubious, but they didn’t ask any more questions and made no further accusations.

That was fine by you, you weren’t really in the mood for talking. The ups and downs of the past few days were starting to get to you, and you were happy just to be for a while. So, you followed Aleksander’s lead and watched Ravka go by out of the carriage window.

----

Stepping out of the carriage at the army camp was an experience you were sure you wouldn’t forget. Not because of the curious looks you were getting or the murmured questions that accompanied them; you didn’t even notice those things. How could you when the Fold was so attention grabbing?

Aleksander had been right, being this close truly put in perspective why so many people feared it. No wonder he had considered turning it into a weapon.

‘You alright?’ asked Aleksander, appearing at your side.

You nodded, even as you continued to stare. ‘Yeah.’

He put a hand on your shoulder, guiding you away. ‘Come on. It won’t be long until we board the skiff.’

Reluctantly, you tore your eyes away from the Fold and let Aleksander lead you further into the camp. Most of the soldiers had already gotten over your appearance and had either gone back to their tasks or were focussing on Alina who had now stepped out of the carriage as well. The attention hadn’t fully shifted from you and Aleksander, though, and you noticed a small group of young soldiers staring at you as you passed. You smiled awkwardly at them, which just made them look even more confused before their superior officer appeared to send them back to work.

Aleksander led you, Alina, and Mal to a large tent, where you waited as he left to oversee the last few preparations for the voyage.

‘You were Aleksander’s taster before you were mine, weren’t you?’ asked Alina once he had gone. It seemed now that you were alone, she was more confident in questioning you.

You nodded and shifted uncomfortably in your kefta. It was probably the highest quality thing you had ever worn, but you still weren’t used to wearing it. ‘I was assigned to him from the Grand Palace a couple of months before you arrived. I’m sure you understand how close you can get to someone in that time.’

‘Do you really think he’s changed his mind?’ asked Mal before Alina could respond to that. He seemed just as uncomfortable as you were with the thought of how close Alina and Aleksander had become.

‘I was going to ask you the same thing,’ you said. ‘Why are you here if you don’t think he has?’

‘It’s worth the risk,’ answered Alina. ‘And he did let me take the power of the Stag. He could have easily taken it for himself. It could be another manipulation, getting me to trust him by sharing certain truths and hiding others… but him helping me is my best chance to tear down the Fold. I have to take it.’

By the way Mal shifted beside her and clenched his jaw, you got the impression that he didn’t agree. But he was there at least, so you were glad Alina had someone to support her.

You supposed that that was your purpose on this voyage, too. Even big and powerful generals needed support sometimes.

----

The tent was fairly silent for the remainder of the wait until Aleksander finally returned to lead you all to the skiff. Alina was met with cheers of encouragement from the surrounding soldiers as she boarded first, and you couldn’t help but smile.

That smile faded however, as the skiff set sail and sunlight gave way to shadows. It wasn’t the darkness so much that had you uneasy, but the high-pitched screeches of what lurked there. You unconsciously stepped closer to Aleksander, his presence reassuring you. Looking around the skiff, you saw multiple people huddling together, the same fearful look in their eyes.

‘We don’t want to advertise our presence too early,’ Aleksander whispered, explaining why Alina was not using her light. ‘And we don’t want Alina to drain her energy.’

‘Why not tear it down from here?’ you asked in the same hushed whisper.

‘It will be easier to tear down from the middle. Besides, I have a specific place in mind.’

Another loud screech from the volcra made you startle, but thankfully it didn’t sound too close.

Aleksander gave the sky one last wary look before turning all his attention towards you. ‘How long have you known who I really was?’ he asked. ‘And how did you find out?’

You had known this conversation was coming, even if the location was a bit of a surprise.

‘I think I put all the pieces together not long after I was poisoned,’ you explained. ‘I never believed the Black Heretic to have died creating the Fold, and I knew that powerful Grisha could have prolonged lives. So, when I was going through the books on the various Darklings that have existed throughout the years, I started to find it a bit coincidental that there were so many mentions of “ancestors” and “descendants” but no mention of any actual children. They all just suddenly appeared fully grown.’

A shriek echoed from above the skiff, interrupting you, and you instinctively ducked. But then a bright light covered the deck, and you looked up to see Alina with her arms in the air, creating a bubble of sunlight around the skiff. Once the whole ship was protected, she lowered her arms, but the light remained, moving with the skiff.

‘Impressive,’ you muttered, looking up at the volcra who were circling but unable to break through the barrier.

Aleksander merely hummed in agreement before directing you back to the conversation. ‘So, you didn’t know for sure, then?’

You shook your head. ‘Not just from reading the books, no. There was also the way you talked about war as if you were an old soldier, and the fact that you haven’t aged at all in the years I have been at the Grand Palace. Not so much as a grey hair.’ You smiled briefly, thinking of how he would react to such a thing. ‘But mostly, I can see it in your eyes. When you talk about your people and what they have been through… I can see you go back there in your mind. Like you have lived through all of it. You have the look of someone who has seen far too much and has been fighting for far too long. Much longer than anyone should have to.’

Aleksander didn’t say anything to that, but the bob of his throat betrayed the emotion he was feeling. You smiled sympathetically, but before you could offer any proper comfort, his attention was diverted to something in the distance and he was ordering Zoya to stop the skiff. Glancing through the darkness, you saw the remnants of a building that you suspected would have been quite impressive before time and the volcra had gotten to it. Now it was little more than ruins.

This must have been the place that Aleksander spoke about, you realised, though its significance was lost on you. You made a mental note to ask him about it if you got the chance.

An air of anticipation fell over the skiff as it fully came to a stop and Aleksander walked over to join Alina in the centre of the deck. This was it.

You watched as Aleksander and Alina shared a few muttered words before they moved to stand facing each other. Aleksander held both his hands out in front of him, and after a small hesitation, Alina took them in hers. The bubble of sunlight around the skiff rippled and shone a little brighter at the contact.

For a moment, nothing more happened, and you worried that even together they would not be strong enough to tear down the Fold. But then they both closed their eyes and took a breath in unison, and the small bubble of sunlight burst. A light so bright you had to shield your eyes exploded outwards from the pair, and you could tell by the shriek of the volcra that it was expanding further still.

When you were finally able to lower your hand without blinding yourself, you gasped. The whole area was bathed in sunlight, but it wasn’t from any sun Alina had made. It was natural sunlight from the sun that had always hung in the sky.

In the distance, you could still see darkness being chased away by Alina’s light, and once the last remnants of the Fold disappeared, the skiff erupted into cheers and applause. A pride like none other you had felt before overcame you as you watched Aleksander open his eyes and witness what he had achieved. You were certain you would remember the look of surprise and awe on his face for as long you lived.

Alina wore a similar expression, but it soon turned into excited triumph. She beamed at Aleksander before running over and hugging Mal. Aleksander smiled after her, the same fond smile you had seen him give her for weeks now, and you suddenly felt like an imposter in your kefta. The past few days had been a tipping point for change, but at that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder what would stay the same.

#the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader

182 notes · View notes