#i want to sketch these when im not in PAIN (being alive) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bansheeoftheforest · 3 years

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Uh, is there still an angst break? Ignore this ask until your ready if so 👉😎👉

What was the au where Jekylls pushed down the stairs and experiences a skull crackening again? Oh well but I've been thinking of a branch of that where Jekyll doesn't know hes dead like all day. I also cant remember if that was already discussed or not

The lodgers patch him up, he complains of a headache, and goes on his merry way! He's confused why all the lodgers are so nervous and being nice to him all of the sudden, why creature is looking at him with a stange mix of empathy and pity. He was told he fell down the stairs, fell unconscious, and obtained a bit of an injury. He cant fathom why Frankenstein is "The only doctor who can treat him" why he has to constantly go to her for checkups. Why Maijabi is suddenly following him practically everywhere.

Hyde squeezes back control for a moment and tries the potion but it doesn't work. Maybe a bit of pain but certainly no transformation. Jekyll assumes his injury or whatever medication they're giving him to treat it somehow negated the effects

Jekyll complains about "suddenly blacking out" the lodgers know its because his soul is slippery. They tell him it must just be a side effect of the injury and not to worry

How long can they keep it secret from him? When does he find out? Does he? Does it get to be years only for him to realize that he hasn't aged? That he still needs checkups from Frankenstein? Does he learn sooner? Does a lodger crack and say it? Does he rot? Does he notice how so very cold he is. How animals act around him? It's all very interesting,,

I actually did think a bit of Jekyll's kidnappers for the amnesia kidnapping au! When drawing that lil sketch of Henry and O'Leary meeting Robert I had considered making it so O'Leary was suspicious of Lanyon like "Oh theres no news anywhere of someone matching Thomas' description who's missing. But some random people walk up claiming to know him? Begging to take him back with them?" And he'd think they were the kidnappers. But ultimately I decided against it as I felt Lanyon and Rachel were pretty clearly, genuinely concerned for "Thomas" :p

I tried playing assassins creed once, the first(?) one. But the controls were confusing and everything was sorta thrown all at me at once, and I got bored of it quickly

But! I went to the store the other day and just so happened to notice Syndicate was being sold for 15 dollars 👀 So I bought it because funky Victorian assassins and your influence! It's a bit less confusing then the first ac game I tried but why is going down or dropping so hard bdksnks. I'm having quite a bit of fun! If you dont count my rage and annoyance-, the B button refuses to cooperate with me unless I'm looting corpses >:(

The b button being the bane of my existence aside, I AM having fun! I like the funky outfits and I want to play as the girl twin (evie?) forever because her clothes are good and shes better at attacking than jacob(?) For some reason. Probably the stun her weapon has? Oh well! I have not unlocked any new outfits yet, nonetheless I wish there were more.

Also! I was thimking, and my current quests are taking place at 1868? Did I get that right? And Jekyll is like 35 in 1885. So in game he'd be 18! An au like I believe you mentioned sounds very interesting 👀 but I must play more to know what's going on and daydream about it

That would be the resurrection au <3

But god, I really like that branch! Especially combined with the hc that he can't feel pain bc the HJ7 and the transformations made him immune. Frankenstein patched him up and made fleshweaver to heal the crack in his skull but it still has to be bandaged, he surely broke a few bones, yet all he has to do is to be careful because it doesn't even hurt. He doesn't even realize how severe the injuries are because it doesn't hurt, it very well might just have been that he accidentally slipped at the bottom of the staircase and accidentally hit his head on the railing during his fall, rather than getting physically pushed and flying down the stairs, shattering his skull upon impact with the marble floor. Y'know what would be extra fun? If he only starts getting a bit suspicious about how severe the injury was once he realizes his lungs stop breathing for minutes at a time when he gets distracted, or his heartbeat stops dead in his chest. I know that that's not how biology or even creature works but lets say the HJ7 is funky, Zombie Jekyll my beloved. Perhaps he would only fully grasp what had happened once he blacked out too much and 'passed out', but his soul slipped out enough to leave his body unconscious on the floor while his soul/ghost was just... Watching. And it's not until Maijabi (who, as you said, follows him everywhere) immediately calls for more Lodgers saying that Henry's soul is getting unstable and Frankenstein's lousy job is starting to shine through that he fully understands that it was not a mere hit to the head. Or maybe it is when days, weeks, maybe months has passed and the headache never goes away, he only feels how his body starts feeling so much more... Fragile and delicate, that the guilt has eaten Helsby up alive and he corners him and spills everything, knowing he is going directly against what the group agreed to but not being able to keep it a secret much longer-- or maybe Creature would tell him immediately, once Henry is, for once, alone perhaps days after the initial accident. He cannot see Henry struggle to understand what is going on when he already knows what's happening to Henry, his mind, and his body. He doesn't listen to the plan that Frankenstein and the Lodgers has set up and immediately tells Henry the first moment they are alone. That would certainly be horrifying, I can only imagine how the Lodgers would find Henry after that, once he actually knows and manages to process everything. He would be so mad, not only to have been killed in the first place, but also because he was robbed of an afterlife because the Lodgers were selfish and could not accept the consequences of their actions. He would be mad, he would be so pissed and I have no doubt he might actually be mad at Maijabi too for even agreeing to help Frankenstein and the rest of the Lodgers. That anger would not stay long, though. That anger would soon turn into misery and sadness and paranoia so even as Henry has tried to push Maijabi away, Henry still ends up on his doorstep begging him to help him make sure he is not rotting, because no matter what anyone says, he is sure he can see rotten spots and patches on his skin and he is just so scared and jdhfjsdfdsfsfs... <3

Ooooooohhh, I was actually daydreaming about this just this morning! Granted, I woke up at 5 and began to daydream to fall asleep quicker but I still like the thought of O'Leary being suspicious of Robert/Rachel/Jasper/the Lodgers bc he is protective of 'Thomas' and doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and especially with the idea that Henry still has hallucinations and they both think he was abandoned by his family, left to rot at a mental asylum. O'Leary might very well think that it might be Henry's friends and family that dumped him that Henry had 'escaped' the hospital and that's why they knew he was missing since the Asylum itself obviously wouldn't have posted the news... I really liked Jeks idea, okay? Like a lot, I absolutely love it <3

Oh, the oldest AC game I played was Unity bc it was free after the Notre Dame fire, and I can confirm, I played 15 min and could not get through it even if i would have wanted to, it absolutely sucks so i have no doubt the older games are just as frustrating <3

BUT!!!! I'M SO GLAD MY CORRUPTION IS SPREADING AND YOU BOUGHT AND PLAYED IT AND ARE ENJOYING IT SO FAR!!! Trust me, Syndicate truly is an absolutely amazing game and is definitely one of my top 3 games of all time. I sometimes play it w my friend watching me play and trust me, I know that rage of trying to do smt but the character does smt else... or you try to do smt but the game doesn't react and you miss your chance... Oh well, still a wonderful game <3

My friend loves to play as Evie as well but I'm definitely playing Jacob every chance I get and I honestly get a lil pissy when I have to play as Evie bc I always prefer to play male characters, plus, I just like Jacob better bc he is a sweetheart. He is also canonically bisexual as hell!!! Have you met Abberline yet? The police officer? Him and Jacob together is one of my fave ships for the game. I also bought the ultimate/golden/whatever name it was edition so I had a bunch of extra outfits, I love the sherlock holmes outfit for Jacob but my friend keeps bullying me for it </3

Honestly? The time difference is the bane of my entire idea for the au bc if it's during their time Henry hasn't even graduated yet, and definitely not well-known enough for them to actively meet for whatever reason, and if you use the timeline for the jack the ripper dlc (in 1888) a lot of... Less than pleasant things happen so it wouldn't really make a lot of sense for a crossover to happen at that point but maybe it's just bc im a pussy and refuse to play the dlc. Rn, while imagining the au, I just imagine the 1868 timeline to be the same as the TGS timeline. I like to imagine the Frye Twins hearing about Henry and the Society and promptly breaking into his office to ask him to make poison and stuff for them. I also have a feeling that Jacob would flirt wildly with Henry and that Henry would be less-than-amused. It would also be a very fun thing with the fact that there would be two Henrys, with TGS Henry Jekyll and AC Syndicate Henry Green, soo... XD

#Man I really want to hear your journey through syndicate!!!#Oh man I cant wait until you meet Maxwell #and Crawford for that matter #he was the guy I based the crawford in the fic off of bc i had no idea what else to do <3 #OHH there would also be a lot of mixup with Lucy Thorne and TGS Queen Lucy #oh i can imagine them being rivals #that would be fun <3 #ask #darling-dolly-darlene #banshees au #resurrection au #amnesia kidnapping au

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ficsforeren · 3 years

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We have very different perspectives on it all. Although i will say the problem is that Historia is lesbian so Isayama debunked the baby theory by stating this even before the ending. Eren didn’t have a problem with Historia being with another man but he did feel a bit panicked about it with Mikasa. He also didn’t want to involve her for her safety but he had no problem involving Historia. Also since 2013, every official art, sketch etc that Isayama has drawn has been of Eremika. I don’t think he would’ve done that for no reason. He did create a lot of suspicious for EH so I don’t blame the shippers lol but again, in the lost girl manga, Isayama made to show that no matter what Au, EM would still create a bond.

Isayama in an old interview: are EM sibling?

*sigh & rolls his eyes* : “she wasn’t adopted, she didn’t see them as her family. They gave Mikasa home and stability but they were never truly her family. She wasn’t adopted”

So before chapter 50 Mikasa was seen as a mother to Eren “Mikasa you have to protect him”-Carla. I think chapter 112 showed that it was more than a familiar bond too. Not to mention that Eren always got annoyed by the fact that she babied him “Mikasa! Im not your brother or little kid” and she wouldn’t understand the description of it. I mean we saw Eren i chapter 123 being desperate for Mikasa to say anything other than “family”. Isayama even re sketched the panel to show more hurt in his eyes.

Also with Eren saying that to Armin, in chapter 105 we see Eren have a breakdown over Sashas death. That was a breaking point for him since he realized he wouldn’t be able to save them all, no matter what he did or how many plans he thought out. That doesn’t debunk that Eren mission has always been for his friends to live long lives. It ties with everything from the beginning and the dream “if you want to save Mikasa and Armin” so there’s no other motive other than for his friends to live and be free.

Okay so I don’t want to turn this into an EM vs EH btw. Even though i heavily disagree with your perspective of Aot, i did feel that you understand Erens line of thought in your book and i love it! Keep it up

"Historia is lesbian so Isayama debunked the baby theory by stating this even before the ending"

umm... wait... what...??? isayama said historia was a lesbian? like, he clearly stated she was a lesbian and that she'd never be interested in boys? i'm sorry, which interview is this again?? i never heard about it

i've always thought she was a bisexual tbh

"He also didn’t want to involve her for her safety but he had no problem involving Historia"

????? baby???? eren literally sent mikasa to the front lines many times, and he got her and everyone else involved in the rumbling arc without knowing whether any of them would survive the battle. why would he still do the rumbling (or his attack in marley) and send mikasa to the battlefield if he wasn't sure that she'd make it out alive?

eren went rogue and gone to marley because he saw there was no other choice but to do it, since he didn't want to sacrifice historia. he didn't tell anyone about him leaving paradis (except historia who he trusted), because they couldn't find a better solution, and they had lowkey prepared themselves to sacrifice historia if needed. eren just couldn't agree with that.

my man was literally trying to supress his rage by clenching his fist.

and now i don't know about you, but when i see a man who's been fighting for freedom his entire life, willing to do everything to achieve it but then he did/said things like this to you:

would you really do and say all these things for a friend? just a friend?

he even gives her a choice to avoid the pain and guilt, like--

idk man. their bond just feels much stronger for me than what eremika have, but again, if you like the ship, then go ahead and ship it, I won't tell you to stop. shipping is fun, and it should stay that way. so i hope we can stop arguing about this. i'll ship erehisu, you'll ship eremika. i think historia is a better written character than mikasa, and you think the opposite. that's cool. that's great. but this debate is getting too long, so I'm just gonna end it here. if you feel like you still want to argue, please come off anon so i can answer you privately. i don't want to make my moots and readers feel uncomfortable reading these asks, and i definitely don't want to start another shipwar (been through that waaaay too much on twitter, i'm so tired with arguing, i'm sorry).

have a good day, love.

#aot commentary

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undinoble · 4 years

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Crazy long text ahead i warn you, just explaining some process I went through while drawing this Frank and Julie low light dying thingie, probably gonna drop some wips along the way, you may want to see… idk, dealer’s choice

!TRIGGER WARNING! Violence, death, suicide. Proceed with caution.

Well where do we begin? The inspiration maybe?

Exploring the magical world of Spotify when a band came in, one of the first songs (if not the first one) of theirs I heard was Partners in Crime by Set It Off, you know, love at first sight, love for their voices, their music style, aaand the lyrics, OH BOI the lyrics, check it out:

“You’ll never takes us alive We swore that death will do us part They’ll call our crimes a work of art You’ll never takes us alive We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners”

Dunno, for two passionate juvenil delinquents that just wants trouble this line really fits to me, the dreamy couple feels invencible.

“Everybody freeze Nobody move Put the money in the bag Or we will shoot Empty out the vault And me and my doll will be on our way”

It’s actually interesting to think of the Legion robbing a bank, it’s not like troublesome teens didn’t do that in movies c’mon, it’s a small city, they wear masks, ez!

“Our paper faces flood the streets And if the heat comes close enough to burn Then we’ll play with fire ‘cause

You’ll never takes us alive”

THIS. This is so a Legion thing to say. Can you imagine their masks all around the streets as a warning like “HEY, WE ARE HERE, FEAR US” I love this

“Here we find our omnipotent outlaws Fall behind the grind tonight Left unaware that the lone store owner Won’t go down without a fight Where we gonna go He’s got us pinned Baby I’m a little scared Now, don’t you quit He’s sounded the alarm I hear the sirens closing in”

The second big moment, the adrenaline along with the instrumental is crazy for real

“The skies are black with lead-filled rain A morbid painting on display This is the night the young love died Buried at each others side”

THIS. (again) is the main theme of the drawing, it’s where the inspiration flood over me, the scene was clear in my mind, c’mon if you read till here there’s absolutely no reason not to listen to the song you won’t regret im not even getting payed to show it off

ACTUALLY FORGET IT- i just won a sub on Cody Carson’s stream WHAT IS LIFE??????? Thanks Max!!!

I totally didn’t draw this while listening to the music when i should be working what are you talking about??

Hold the sketch, focus on the gun. It’s dope aint it?

Anyways, here goes the lore, along with the music lyrics I filled up the gaps, well, Suz and Joey are not around, maybe doing school stuff Julie didn’t feel like doing so she decides to hang out with Frank in the meanwhile, they’re on the lodge, bored, upset about the world cause it’s what teens do in their free time, listening to one of their mixtapes, probably Frank’s, the more hardcore one when the idea hit: what if they try some good mischief? “There’s a small banks a mile from here, want some adrenaline babe?” And oh of course she does, grab your mask, here we go

Sorry, not a big legs-drawing fan…

They grab their knives, put on the masks, get ready, drive to the bank. I didnt really think this part through, the song says it all. Long story short - they rob the bank, the police arrives, the action begins.

They brought their knives, didn’t expect the cops to show up with guns, damn they didnt even know little Ormond cops had actual guns. After long minutes of hiding on the bank safe the couple decides to fight their way out, they would be more useful alive than dead so laws could apply, but that went out of question once Frank stabbed the first bank employee on his triumphal way out, the police don’t think twice before shooting to protect the citizens inside.

Frank and Julie have too little time to react, the stress and anxiety kicks in, they go feral, crazy cinematic bullet avoids, for a moment it’s possible to get away. It all happened too quick, but in Julie’s vision it went slow motion. She just saw a cop leaning behind a car, aiming directly at Frank, even her fastest reaction wasn’t fast enough to stop the trigger from popping. With tears in her eyes she watches as the bullet hits her boyfriend right in the chest.

She snaps. One target in mind, she sprints to the cop and stabs him over and over until she’s sure he won’t see the sun set ever again. She takes his gun and rushes towards Frank who is kneeling against a taxi holding his torax, she screams that they must go to the hospital immediately but he refuses, hospital would be just a quick stop on his way to jail. No fucking way.

He demands to go back to the lodge, the cops are too busy helping their wounded partner to look for them, they think Frank may be dropped dead somewhere on the street after multiple shots, the two of them must flee before the cops realize the mistake and go hunting for them. NOW.

Julie side-carries Frank back to their car, the lack of a license of her own won’t stop her from driving as fast as the car can. Breathing heavily while constantly telling Frank to hold on, they will find a way out, they must do. Oh what a fucking stupid idea holy SHIT.

The travel takes half the time it usually does and still feels like hours. The car gets all red with Frank’s blood that keeps leaking. Once they arrive, Frank wants to go upstair, Julie shouts at him to keep next the central campfire once he should grab some heat (and for god’s sake why is he still carrying the money bag they stole????), anyway he gets the last word and they climb the stairs up and lay on the bed, Frank hisses from the pain but also sighs in relief for the soft spot under him, ignoring Julie cursing besides him, saying she can still call an ambulance, she doesnt want to lose him, Suz and Joey will be devastated, although he just replies with the phrase they were saying sooner that day “They’ll never take us alive”.

After 20 minutes of agony, low whispers of memories of how they met, what they had been through together and a huge amount of blood moisturing the covers, Frank says he’s feeling light-headed, Julie looks at him and he’s paper white, the blood loss is finally getting to him, she wants to cry, scream, curse and stab that damn cop a hundred times again, but all she does is cuddle her head harder against his shoulder and tell him she loves him, that she will keep his legacy alive, with Joey and Susie, she will revenge him. He chuckles and slowly feels the life being drained from his weaked body until everything goes black.

Julie need a few seconds to process. Frank died. For real. He was good a few hours ago, he was right. They would never take them alive. Death could do them apart, but, he never said for how long they would be apart.

She reaches for the gun on the hand under Frank’s body. THAT DAMN GUN. She aims it to the side of her head, never leaving Frank’s side on the bed. Triggers it.

“Partners in crime”

Damn did I just write a fucking fanfiction? This shit is way longer than I expected, did anybody even get down here?

Well, this is the part of the drawing where i left cause I just couldn’t afford to work on it, have in mind everytime the file were opened the whole lore came in my head, and fuck did i feel dizzy writing it all down. Hell the bloody details get me, seeing Frank so white with a blue undertone simulating the lifeless body gave me headaches fr. My escape was drawing other things until the courage to finish it came back. It was easier because the story kinda faded away from my mind, the drawing became “lighter” to deal with.

Well, guess that’s it. I hardly have this big insight while drawing, to visualize the finished piece on my brain and it’s just so fucking cool, making art with so many mixed feelings along, and overall pride, cause i feel so proud with the result you have no idea. It isn’t perfect tho, but i like it anyway. So, thank you so much if you made it all the way here. gonna sleep now for fucks sake im gonna pass out bye

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sloppy-butcher · 4 years

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I saw your requests were open,if not I’m sorry :,). But can I get some hcs with Frank,Dwight (Jake and/or Quentin) with a s/o who’s a short curvier artist and is just insecure about themselves and their work? I’m just in sad boy hours rn lmao

please don’t ever feel sorry about sending in an ask

Sorry, it took as long, I can’t help with how much I write. Hopefully, this will help alleviate some of them sad boy hours. I’m going to assume that by “artist” you mean drawing and not like music soooo also im going to assume its a survivor S/O

i love you anon, thank you for the ask and sorry again for the wait

sad boy hours is offically declared OVER

HeadCanons with a short, insecure Artist S/O

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

Frank, in all honesty, doesn’t give a flying crap about how you look. To him, if you can make him laugh or you amuse him in the slightest, he already likes you. The only looks or appearances he does care about are his own, he’s gotta look badass 24/7, no exceptions. But he does like that you are shorter than him (not a lot of people are so you are a rarity). He likes to tease you and put his elbow on your shoulder or head.

“I need my walking stick.” His eyes would trail over to you. Cue you trying to walk around with the boy hanging onto you, grumbling like an old man. You contrasted him exactly to the T

Frank is absolutely fascinated by your artistic abilities. You have a real talent and he enjoys both watching your process and seeing the finished project. Talent like yours was hard to come by, he sort of envied you for it. If only he had that kind of something that made him special that would have made those foster parents interested in him. But that time for developing uniqueness has passed and now, all he has is you.

You shared your talent with him and he felt extremely special when you would ask him what to sketch next. Frank would pull Suzie over and set her up in a position he imagines to be cool. He would pause, inspect Suzie’s bad form then huff and begin to rearrange her limbs until she was just right. “That's nice.” He’d comment over your shoulder. You’d tell him you didn't like being watched like that while you work and he’d sigh and reluctantly shuffle away. Not even 5 minutes later he would be back standing over you. You would just have to deal with him. He wasn’t judging you or your skills rather he just wanted to watch and marvel at how easy you made it look.

“Okay, now give her a huge dick.” Both Suzie and you would gasp. “Frank! No! That's too disgusting.” A moment of silence. “How big?”

Frank noticed right away when you would start to feel insecure. When you would flatly refuse to take out your sketchbook regardless of what ridiculous poses Suzie would make for you. You were quiet, eyes downwards and shoulder slumping as if you were trying to make yourself somehow smaller than you already were. Frank’s by no means an emotional guy but seeing you so downtrodden, so determined to sink into the background really tore at his heartstrings. He would pull you aside, taking you far away from the others until you two were alone. You wouldn’t look at him, your arms wrapped around yourself. “It’s not just the art.” He was guessing but already he knew he was right. You wouldn’t even offer him a nod afraid that by doing so you would be labeled as someone digging for feigned sympathy.

This was so difficult for Frank. He didn’t know how to comfort you or how to make you feel better. He also didn’t understand where this sudden insecurity came from. To him you perfect and talented and such a good person. You had a kind heart which you would share with those around you and that's all he really cared about. You were good to him. He couldn’t think of anything to say so instead he walked closer to you and slowly placed your hand between his. You momentarily looked up at him and you saw his eyes flicker behind his mask. He squeezed your hand, his words failing but his contact and pressure making up for it. He was trying to be reassuring and you appreciated it. He’d only ever hold your hand and that was something to be gratefully for.

In that time alone he asked you to take out your sketchbook. You did and he steps away, releasing one hand from yours. He reaches up and hesitantly takes off his mask. “Draw me.” You were stuck, in awe of his face and the significance of this moment. Frank never takes his mask off, not completely anyway. This must really mean something to him, YOU must really mean something. A wave of unsureness washed over you and you lost all confidence in your skill. He saw you slip away again and he squeezed his hand. “Hey.” He makes you look at him, his face gentle and his attention focused solely on you. “I believe in you. You are good. You got this.” And that's all you needed to hear. You got the feeling that he was talking about more than just your drawing skills. If he believed in you then everything was okay. You were alright. “Besides. It can’t be worse than the original.”

Dwight Fairfield

Like Frank, Dwight doesn't really care about your outward appearances. Well, it's not that he doesn't care it’s more that he just in a constant state of shock that anyone at all is interested in him. He’s always amazed when you sit next to him specifically or when you want to talk to him and actually listen to what he says. No one has ever really given him that kind of attention before and now you’re here beside him eagerly wanting to hear how his day was or what he was feeling. Dwight was just grateful to have someone as kind and loving as you were to even notice him.

He was beyond blown away by your artistic talents. You can sketch killers from memory and Dwight always finds himself in awe of how detailed and accurate the drawing was. You were so creative and special, the thing he was never. He looked to you and saw everything he could never be or never was. But you didn’t shove your achievements in his face, you didn't flaunt your talents like some egotistical morons would. You were humble and his compliments never went straight to your head. You looked so good when you were kind and modest. He liked how ordinary you were regardless of how awesome you appeared to him.

You’d often ask to draw him and he would blush and look away. Why would you want to draw him? The most boring of all the other survivors. But you were insistent and eventually, he’d cave. If only you had a red pencil because his cheeks were always hot and flushed. He could never make eye contact with you while you worked on him so expect a lot of side profiles or closed eye portraits.

In trials together his heart would all but break at the sight of you getting hurt. Whenever he’d hear your cries as you’d be slammed onto a meat hook he would gasp and practically feel something inside him cry out along with you. You were too good for this. He was a nobody, a weak, pathetic nobody who deserved to be in this purgatory because he was too scared to try and live a normal life. This was his punishment for being so forgettable. But you... he just couldn’t understand it.

Once he had jumped between you and your pursuer taking the hit and aggression while you ran off to go heal. For once in his life he felt happy, he felt as if he had finally done something meaningful and good. He had saved you. He would have died for you as well but you never let that happen. He watched in utter shock and disbelief as, against all odds, you went back for him. You pulled the man off his hook and with shaking hands you pressed his head into yours. Both your foreheads with touching and you had your hand at the back of his head.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He felt you waver and suddenly he realized that you were scared for him. He felt your urgency and terror and it was all directed towards him and his safety. He could have cried.

Dwights not the brightest bulb in the pack so forgive him but it will take a while for him to realize that you were insecure. He just assumed that when you started isolating yourself from him that it was because you had found someone much better than him. But he noticed that your hands still shook whenever you’d see him in pain and you would always be by his side the moment he needed help. You still cared for him deeply and he could feel it through your desperate actions and your desolate expression.

He walked over to your spot at the campfire. No one was near you, all were chased away by your depressing aura. You were dark and dying, everything around you was heavy with despair and sorrow yet he pushed through it all. He clawed away that thick fog and finally came to rest by your side. You didn't even look at him as he approached.

“Y-You don’t draw anymore.” No response. He hesitated unsure of how best to comfort you. He looked over and saw your hands. They were so small and gentle yet they produced such amazing things. He missed seeing you alive as you worked, the happiest you had ever been. He reached out and took your hands in his. This was the most forward he had ever been with you and it caught you by surprise. You turned to face him and you saw pain in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” he paused and looked away, ashamed. “I’m sorry I took so long to notice.”

Dwight really did feel sorry. He felt like he had abandoned you, leaving you vulnerable and alone with the true killer; yourself. This time you felt his hands shake.

Dwight wasn’t much but he was yours and he loves you. And he loved you so much to maybe even make up for your own lack of self-love. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. He was enough.

“Please draw me again. I-I promise I won’t look away this time.” How could you refuse him?

Jake Park

Jake’s a simple man. He knows the silence of the world and prefers it to the company of people. So when you start to hang out with him or show interest in his life he is pretty unresponsive. He expected you to eventually lose curiosity in him and leave him alone with the woods. But you didn’t.

You’d follow him around, asking questions and receiving minimal answers. You would ask him what to draw and when you were done he would just glance at the sketch then nod or huff. He was certainly a very difficult and cold man.

You would draw many things for him, be it crows or plants or sometimes even killers. And he would always show an extreme lack of interest in them. So you decide to stop showing him. The two of you would sit in a quiet spot in the woods, you sketching and him wondering why you were still trying so hard to be friends with him.

You were working on a portrait when you were, without warning, whisked off into a trial. You quickly shoved your art into your pocket and set to work trying to escape. Jake was in the trial with you and you gladly worked on gen with him. Minutes later everyone was dying and only 2 generators had been lit. It wasn’t looking so good but the only thing you were worried about was your precious item in your pocket. It was something that you were really proud of and, to be dead honest, it was one of the best pieces of art you had made in a long time. You were afraid to die and lose it. But... it really didn’t look like you were getting out of this one.

You caught Jake in a corner, injured but not making a noise. You approached him and he reached out ready to tend to your wounds. You shook your head and crouched next to him trying to catch your breath. Your hand went into your pocket and pulled out your folded artwork. he eyed it unsure.

“I know you don’t care about my bad drawings but,” you held it out for him to take. “please, this one’s for you.” You quickly ran off, too embarrassed to be there when he opened it.

He was frozen for a moment, confused as to what just happened. He did care about your drawings. You were talented and he really enjoyed when you included him. Why would you think that he wouldn’t like them? He turned his attention back to the paper. With a bloody hand, he carefully unfolded it and was shocked to find a portrait of him. It was so beautiful, delicate lines used to define his face and his far-off expression and for a second he couldn’t believe it was him. It was so well done. How could you be ashamed of showing him this? He loved it. He looked up and saw you run off and his heart run with you. He was suddenly hit with his suppressed love for you. You were patient and kind and your small stature always made him wonder how anyone could hurt something so cute. He escaped that trial along with your picture. He, unfortunately, couldn’t save you.

Later at your spot in the woods, he approached you. He presented your art and you gasped. “How’d you get that!?” You reached out to take it back. “I’m sorry! It’s...” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He must think you are such a creep, drawing bad pictures of him without his knowledge. You clutched the paper to your chest and felt a wave of hot insecurity flood over you. But Jake never let you drown.

“It’s really good,” Jake said, his voice the most emotional and vibrant it had ever been. “I’m sorry if I never expressed my appreciation of it.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “You’re really good... to me. And,” he paused letting go for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. Thank you for sticking around.” It wasn’t much but it was the best he could do. There was a deep-rooted honestly in his confession and it pulled at your heart.

It wasn’t enough to make you feel better but it was a start. With Jake, it is a journey of recovery, not a once-off end-all fix. But he was good at consistency and was always there the moment your fears reared their ugly heads. He was warm and solid, grounding both himself and you in the world.

#dbd imagines #dbd headcanons #dbd x reader #dbd frank morrison #dbd dwight fairfield #dbd jake park

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echo-inthevoid · 4 years

Text

Season 2 q&a and overall reaction

Jonny stealing everyone's names XD

Is martin going to be ok!? I also need to know!

He said no;-;

ok ya, no one's gonna be ok.

Ya, he must do sooo much research.

Ya, except for "fatigue" lol.

Eyyy the mechanisms!!

What's the red string brigade? Ok, I guess a group of fans theorizing about stuff.

Oh ok so someone else did martins poetry. Ooh, there's more martin poetry out there! *grabby hands*

Ok ya, Alex clarifying that Jon isn't stupid he just makes poor decisions. Probably if he'd paused and thought about it (like I did lol, I had to go do some stuff in the middle of that ep and thought about it a whole bunch lol) instead of immediately going out and buying an axe and further isolating himself and panicking immediately he probably would have figured it out. This is why it's bad to panic in a crisis guys.

Eyyy! Jonny's parents voiced Gertrude and Leitner! That's so cool.

XD Jonny grumbling about having to work with his parents.

Hmm, I hadn't really thought of Gertrude being like a mother figure in the story? She just seems very cut-throat I guess from what Leitner said. Idk so far I've been very suspicious of her. Especially since that one statement where her photo burned a whole bunch of people or something. She just seems very shady...

Alex chortling over Jonny's pain. XD

Side note, Every time there's a q&a I just can't stop noticing Jonny's voice going in and out of archivist range? Like most of the time I'm just listening along and then he'll say a sentence a bit grumblier and my brains immediately like "ARCHIVIST! That's THE ARCHIVIST!!"

Martin would be the last one alive in Friday the 13th! It's official!

(Is it bad that this gives me hope)

Jon likes Nonfiction, documentaries, and probably collects something just a little bit weird. *writes down for use in potential fics*

also while im at it I remember jon saying he dislikes coffee at one point, and so many people have him liking coffee in their fics! This has been your daily reminder of that fact because ever since then it keeps bugging me lol. (But also do whatever u want.)

Alex's spluttering sounds so much like Martin.

Yes!! I want to hear jon sing!! Yes! Musical Episode When!!?

Ah yes yes yes! All the characters are so unique!!? How does he do it!!

Ya, it being in audio format sometimes makes it hard to understand what's happening in the live-action bits. (Live-action is the wrong word but u know what I mean.)

Oh ok ya, how he mentioned he got a pipe was quite clever I didn't realize that that's why he mentioned it at all.

Ooh, there's a manga where there's something similar to Michael? I'll have to look that up later...

XD Alex and Jonny arguing about apples.

Ok, so all the statements we're hearing ARE for reals. I kinda assumed but good to have it confirmed.

They used to hang out together!!? Work function curry nights!! ;-;

Ya Ya! Who made the leitners!?

"You are assuming a book needs to be written" ...ok then. (but it has to have been created somehow??? Did they just spring fully formed from the powers? why? And why take the form of books?)

Alex's mischievous laugh about whether jon has friends *trembles in fear*

Yes!! Micheal is so good! I'm so happy they love him too! Yesyes! His laugh!

Ah Yes!! Mary kaey was so creepy!

XD yes yes yes fatigue was written on zero sleep, I knew it!

Akskdjdkd I love them so much. Also, I've looked up Michaels voice actor luke booys and he does some other horrory type sketches n stuff and I kiiinda want to do a little animatic with some of those but it's Michael like annoying some poor soul lost in his halls... I think that'd be fun. I wonder if anyone's done that yet? If so someone send me the links I neeeed iiitt :3

Season 2 summary:

Uuuuu ya so this season was really good. I kinda listened to it in bursts of about ten episodes every couple weeks and then have been saving up the reactions to post later so these are usually going up about a week or so after I actually listened to the episode just FYI.

I also do have a lot of spoilers cause I can't keep myself away from fanfic and people don't always tag for spoilers and I kiiinda wana know what's coming beforehand anyway? Idk it's hard man I get very stressed about what might happen and then also listening to too much at a time is too spooky for my poor little heart so I gotta read the less spooky fanfic to fulfill the hyperfixation you see. (If anyone has fanfic with spoilers only up to season 2 that'd be great btw)

Anyway, I try not to take spoiler type stuff into account unless I'm just so sure of it I can't really not acknowledge that I know about it.

Also, can I just talk about Michael for a minute?? Cause he's such a unique character? And I guess maybe there are other characters like him but I haven't ever seen one -tho to be fair tma is only like the third horror thing I've ever really got into (the other two are the SCP Foundation in its various forms and Little Nightmares. Hence why I keep making reference to SCP it's really the only thing I know similar to this.) But he's such a cool concept!!? Like someTHING that still has a personality? He's so not human? Like I get what he says but also I don't really? Idk im pretty sure he's an avatar right? Right?? Idk if that means he was a person at some point? But all this to say that he is probably the most inhuman character I've come across so far and I'm trying to figure out what it is about him that's so "other" to me? Like... I don't really know what Micheal's deal is? he seems to want to be sort of a neutral mischief-maker but also it seems like he keeps getting invested. But also I just love the way he talks about himself. Like he's a monster that has a personality and is fully intelligent but isn't just evil but isn't neutral either and certainly isn't benevolent. Like he's so complex and just,,,, the idea of a "thing" that's got a personality?? I love it? Kind of like dryads or spirits of things? Like the idea that after a long time things gain personality just by existing? Not that that's what Michael is necessarily? but that same sort of concept applies to him I think. Like the way he IS the maze and wants to help but wants to just watch but wants to kill them all. He's just so interestinggggggg. (And another vision of what jon could become?)

also "es Mentiras" is a beautiful name 💕

So are him and not-Sasha avatars? Not-Sasha also seems completely inhuman and I was under the impression that avatars were (or used to be) human? Or are they like personifications of their power? Do all the powers have personifications of themselves. not-Sasha seems even less human than Michael? Like she seems to just really genuinely enjoy causing fear? Tho I guess we didn't really get to hear a lot of her. She just seemed kinda gleefully angry most of the time we heard from her. Was she... Human once!???

Anyway. Also, can I just talk about leitners line about jon belonging to the eye!!? Just..*chefs kiss* hnnnngg I need more jon grappling with that. I just need more everyone dealing with the fallout post all of the finallies ok? I still need more of jon angsting over his worms scars and stuff and now I also need jon freaking out about belonging to a fear god power thing.

Also Martin! Is Martin ok? He sure did a lot of yelling which he doesn't usually? Look I love him and he actually thinks before he acts (unlike SOME people *looks at jon*) and he writes poetry and it is pretty good poetry ok!! And he cares about everyone and just wants a happy ending and aaaaa😭

Petition to get some statements from Martin's pov tho? I mean that's not gonna happen cause Jon's the archivist but I want more martin pov!! Maybe we can get some of his poem tapes??? Pls?????

I feel so bad for Tim. It sounds like he's kinda fallen into despair.

Also Elias!!? Is showing his spooky side!!? He can control cameras and beat a man to death with a pipe!!? This is his "place of powerr"!!? I am afeared!!? At least jon knows he shouldn't trust him now. Oh jeez, I wonder if jon will listen back to the tape and know what happened. Thhhatsss rough. Oh dear, I hope he doesn't feel guilty cause Leitner did keep trying to hurry him and now everyone thinks it was him. Even martin thinks he did it? Wich like I kinda want to hear more of his thoughts on that? How much does he believe that jon did it? Tim certainly seems pretty certain but he's a bit biased and cynical right now so.

And they were in the maze for DAYS?

Now I need martin recovering from being stuck with Tim in Michaels maze for days being angry and worried and hungry etc... Dksjdksa knowing jon could be dying RIGHT NOW and there's nothing he can do. Please someone give me the fic links if this exists!! I've already written like 5 drabbles based entirely on spoilers/other fics (which I'll probably post (w/ links to their inspirations) once I'm caught up and can make sure I'm not just completely demolishing cannon lol.

Leitner didn't even scream or yell or anything when he was murdered. Literally the chillest dude ever. F

Overall super great, Elias is terrifying, let's dive into the next season!!! I've got 2 seasons to finish in like, less than 2 or so weeks(?) if I wana be caught up by season 5 hhhh,,,

Better get started I guess.

#tma #tma lb #tma liveblog #liveblogging #tma season 2 #season 2 #season 2 q&a #season 2 finale #the magnus archives

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t0ngue-tech · 4 years

Text

Up All Night

“Out of all the friends Seokjin made online, you were exceptionally precious to him for many reasons. One, you carried metal straws with you everywhere. Two, you both were majoring in the medical field. Lastly, to be frank, he liked you.”

↠ fluffy nonsense huhuhu, universityAU ↞

word count: 4.9k

↠ oneshot ↞

A/N: happy new year everyone! 2019 was a ROUGH year for me for so many reasons. i hope this new year will do me good. as a gift for the new year, here’s a little seokjin fic huhu. i hope your new years eve was a fun and safe one (im still hungover a little but im alive lmao) i also hope to put out more fics for you all to love! i love you guise so much! o and there’s a few maplestory references in this fic lol.

Eatjean: I have no idea why it stopped working. I got this watch last week

Y0urnam3: i think you should just give it some TIME

y0urnam3: get it??????

Y0urnam3: cuz it’s a WATCH!!!

Seokjin slapped a hand over his mouth, but failed to stifle the broken laugh behind his hand. He ultimately released a squeaky laugh that almost had him in tears.

“SEOKJIN. I swear to--”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll log off, Yoongi. Relax.”

Besides studying for hours on end at his desk, Seokjin also spent hours playing an online game called Maplestory. He played for years and even if he was juggling his job, social life, and college, he always made time to play. Seokjin made a lot of friends all around the world through Maplestory and even a handful of his friends in college played.

“Dude, you’ve been playing since 8:30. I have to solidify this lesson plan and I can’t concentrate with you laughing and slapping your desk every ten seconds.” Yoongi, Seokjin’s roommate, took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry, but y/n has been busy with school and we haven’t played together for a while.” Seokjin explained.

Out of all the friends Seokjin made online, you were exceptionally precious to him for many reasons. One, you carried metal straws with you everywhere. Two, you both were majoring in the medical field. Lastly, to be frank, he liked you.

Seokjin met you online through the Monster Carnival Party Quest around four months ago. Being in the last room of the party quest meant having a larger party with characters that had buffs and skills that could be beneficial to the entire team. Seokjin’s party was in need of a healer and happened to choose you, a cleric, to join the party.

For five rounds, Seokjin’s party dominated the party quest and when everyone came to the mutual decision to call it quits, everyone sent each other a buddy request and it all started off from there.

For the next few days, Seokjin found himself logging on around the same time you were online and the two of you spent time farming for mesos, helping each other out with quests, or doing rooms three and four in CPQ because the rooms only required a two-person party. This allowed you two to chat for hours, getting to know each other little by little. Of course, you both took precautions because it was the online world, anyone could be behind their screens and pretend to be someone they weren’t.

After almost a month of chatting as much as possible, you eventually began to trust Seokjin with more personal details of your life. You opened up by venting to him about how your ex-best friend decided to hook up with your newly broken up with ex-boyfriend. Seokjin easily related with you with the same story however, his story happened in high school and he found out himself because he found one of his ex-girlfriend’s blouses in his ex-best friend’s room. Seokjin understood your pain and became an emotional sounding board for you.

Even if Seokjin was your listening ear, the only other information that was shared was each other’s names and major. Honestly, Seokjin was curious about what you looked like, what your voice sounded like, but those things were privileged information that couldn’t be shared that easily. Looking each other up online probably wouldn’t be much help either because there could be a lot of people who had the same names and there would be no way to figure out for sure who was really you and vise versa.

No matter how curious he was, Seokjin respected your privacy and didn’t want to ruin the friendship he had with you.

“You make like you haven’t spoken to her in years.” Yoongi quipped as he typed away at his laptop.

“Just do your lesson plan, Mr. Teacher’s Assistant.” Seokjin laughed and launched a paper ball towards Yoongi’s direction. “I’m packing it in anyways. Y/n has an early class tomorrow.”

↠↞

There were multiple places you could’ve been and your 8 am class was definitely not your first choice.

Your professor for medical terminology had an optional 8 am course which you stupidly decided to attend. It wasn’t because you were failing, your future wouldn’t allow for that. Focusing and studying hasn’t been in your mind for a few days and you needed a refresher.

“Y/n, tell me, why am I even here right now?” Irene dropped her folder on top of the desk next to you and groaned. “I swear my bed was caressing me and begging me to stay.”

You yawned and tapped her desk. “Trust me. I also almost pressed snooze on my alarm but you promised you’d go with me and a promise is a promise.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you promised you were going to treat me to breakfast after this soooo…”

Fifteen minutes felt like four days. Your professor stood at the front of the class rambling on, clicking through his slides while everyone stared back at him with hollow eyes.

You glanced over at Irene who had half-lidded eyes and lazily swung her pen in between her fingers. She was probably daydreaming about the french toast and hot coffee from the diner across campus.

You found yourself doodling in the corner of your notebook with rough sketches of orange mushrooms, slimes, and a family of snails. The corner of your paper was starting to look like a miniature version of Henesys hunting grounds.

Forty-five minutes dragged on by and your professor finally let the class go. You and Irene both had a 10 am class which was why you promised her breakfast; to pass time and to have girl time.

“Are you sure I can order the french toast and waffles? We’re both broke ass college students, you know.” Irene handed her menu to the waitress and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. We haven’t hung out in a while, so it’s okay.” You assured her.

“That’s because you’re always playing Maplestory.”

Irene wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t mean to spend the majority of your free time cooped up at your desk with your eyes glued to the colorful images on your laptop screen. Some days your logged on to bust ass and level up, but other days you actually waited to see if Seokjin was going to log on as well.

“So, anything new with that Seokjin guy?” Irene sipped her coffee. “Did you ask for each other’s social media yet?”

The answer will always be no.

“I told you, Irene. There’s something about the ‘not-knowing’. Plus, it’s a mutual agreement between us.” You explained for the thousandth time.

“Yeah, but what if he’s a creepy dude trying to hit on you!”

Of course you thought of that, which was also a hidden reason as to you why you didn’t expose too much personal information about yourself. Seokjin only knew your first name, your major in college, and you were sure to change the names of any personal stories that your shared with him.

You made sure to be careful. Always.

“Seokjin has been catfished before on Maplestory and he said it was so embarrassing and painful that he never wishes anything like that one anyone.” This was a story that Seokjin hesitated to tell because of how embarrassing it was, but he knew he had to tell you because he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about him. This was his way of showing you that he trusted you.

“Well, alright y/n. You’re a smart girl, don’t forget that.”

Classes seemed to fly by after breakfast and after a draining study group, you were eager to have some quality time with yourself.

When you fully logged into your Maplestory account, Seokjin was quick to greet you in the text box.

Eatjean: Y/n!!!!

Eatjean: How was class?

You smiled stupidly at your laptop screen.

Y0urnam3: seokjinnnnnn! classes were just as annoying as yesterday

Yournam3: my energy is at 5% right now

Eatjean: I think it’s bedtime for you

A pout formed.

Y0urnam3: nooooo i waited all day to talk to you

Your feelings for Seokjin wasn’t exactly subtle. You weren’t shy to type out things like “I love talking with you” and “I missed you, sorry I couldn’t play yesterday”. It took a lot of courage for you to do so, but you were sure the courage came from not knowing Seokjin face-to-face. If you were to see him in person after saying all of those things, there was no doubt you would shrivel up into an embarrassed raisin.

Seokjin took a little longer to reply than usual. Instead of seeing his screen name, a spam of a character selling a level 200 weapon for warriors filled the chat box instead. Maybe this was a sign that you needed to stop being so forward with him.

“Awww, okay then stay uwu.”

Seokjin scrambled around a blocked his screen with his hands. He whipped his head to the side and found Yoongi peering over his shoulder.

“Y-Yoongi, when did you get back?” Seokjin stammered.

“Just now. Aren’t you going to press enter?” Yoongi stepped away from Seokjin’s breathing space and took a seat on his own bed. “And what the hell is an uwu?”

“It’s a way to express, uh, extreme ador--no, just google it!” He learned the phrase from you a few weeks ago and at first, he was just as confused as Yoongi was.

Seokjin took another quick glance at Yoongi who was struggling to kick his converse off his feet and hit the “enter” key on his laptop.

Within minutes, you replied.

Y0urnam3: OMG YOURE USING UWU ALJDFLKDJ

Eatjean: MY FIRST AND ONLY TIME

Y0urnam3: UWUWUWUWUWUWUWUWUWU

Y0urnam3: btw can you help me farm for some mesos? I still can’t believe i got scammed yesterday

Seokjin didn’t do anything to hide the smile on his face. Why was the word “uwu” so amusing to him? It was probably because it made you seem a lot cuter than what he originally thought.

In the next hour, Seokjin met up with you help you gain back the mesos you lost. After everything, the two of you circled back to Henesys and stood at a random spot in an empty channel.

Eatjean: Brb ya boi needs a snack lol

He stood up from his chair and retreated to a small table in the room that he and Yoongi dubbed as the snack corner.

“Still playing?” Yoongi asked from behind his laptop screen.

“Yeah. We’re waiting for a few friends so we can LPQ.” Seokjin ripped open a bag of sweet corn balls, sending a few flying to the floor. Just as he bent down to pick up the pieces, he caught Yoongi’s eyes staring at him. “What?”

“I have literally no idea what you just said, but go off I guess.” Yoongi went back to typing away on his laptop. “Oh yeah, before I forget, you’re coming this weekend right?”

Seokjin took a quick second to think about what plans he possibly had this weekend, but nothing came to mind.

“What’s happening this weekend?”

“Dude, Jimin’s party? Penthouse in the city?”

It finally clicked in his brain that Jimin’s uncle lent Jimin his penthouse for the weekend as an early birthday present. Seokjin was invited last week along with Yoongi and they were given strict instructions by Jimin to clear their schedule for Saturday night.

Was it selfish for Seokjin to want to stay back at his dorm and talk to you all night? There was no doubt that Yoongi would agree to go because he has been complaining the entire week about “needing a fucking drink because fuck this lesson plan”. With Yoongi gone for that evening, that meant Seokjin could laugh to his heart’s content all by himself.

“I--” Seokjin dragged on. “I don’t know. I might just stay here and relax.”

“Relax my ass.” Yoongi said in a joking tone. “Seokjin, you’re going. It’s just one night out. Y/n is not going to disappear all of a sudden.”

Of course Yoongi was right. It was just one night off campus and having a drink with his friends was a plan that was long overdue. But Seokjin liked you too much, so it was normal to want to talk to you as much as possible.

Seokjin sighed quietly. An unnecessary battle between the two choices flooded his mind. Going to the party was obviously the answer that settled at the tip of his tongue.

But y/n… ugh but Jimin...

“Fine, okay. I’ll go, I’ll go.” Seokjin lifted his hands in the air in defeat.

There was no point in telling you about the party because just as Yoongi mentioned, you weren’t going to disappear into thin air. Plus, Seokjin wasn’t your boyfriend. He had no business in telling you every single thing that he was going to be doing.

Eatjean: Okay, back

Eatjean: Sorry my roommate was just telling me about his day

Seokjin waited a few minutes before receiving your reply.

Y0urnam3: ohhhhh this is the teacher’s assistant right?

Y0urnam3: how was his day?

Y0urnam3: and how was yours too!! i forgot to ask lol

He smiled and danced his fingers along his keyboard.

Eatjean: That’s the one! And he’s in desperate need for a drink

Eatjean: My day was alright. We’re already preparing for midterms so that’s a bummer

After hitting “enter”, Seokjin pressed the F4 button on his keyboard making his character have a crying facial expression.

Talking to you was always easy. He never felt the need to force a conversation with you because you both shared the same interests and had an understanding school schedule. If there was a chance where he could meet you in person, he was so sure that it would also be just as easy.

For the next two hours, Seokjin aided you in farming for mesos until the party was full to complete a few rounds of the party quest. Even if his eyes may have gotten dry and his back was tight, he enjoyed the time he spent with you.

Y0urnam3: okay seokjin it is LATE and ya girl needs to sleep

Seokjin frowned.

Eatjean: Already T__T

Y0urnam3: i know in sory

Y0urnam3: im sorry****

Y0urnam3: ive been keeping all school related stuff on the back burner and i need to get accepted into the nursing program i told u about

“Ah..right.” Seokjin muttered to himself.

Eatjean: OH OF COURSE OF COURSE

Eatjean: Pls focus on school too!! Trying to become a cardiologist isnt a walk in the park either so i understand

Eatjean: Study hard and get some rest y/n

After receiving your reply filled with words of encouragement for Seokjin to also study hard, he finally shut off his laptop and flopped onto his bed. Since school was a huge priority for you, this probably meant you were going to spend more time hitting the books and using your computer for actual research purposes.

“If only we had each other’s instagram handles or something.” Seokjin groaned and waited for a response from Yoongi.

The room stayed silent and when he turned around, Yoongi was sitting in his chair with his head tilted backwards and had a red pen tucked behind his ear. His desk was cluttered with debris of papers and his laptop was wide open with what seemed to be an answer key.

Seokjin stared at his sleeping friend for a while. “Yeah. He needs a fucking drink.”

↠↞

“Okay, bitches. Clear your schedules. We are going to get crazy tomorrow..” A mutual friend of you and Irene, Seulgi, dropped her binder and textbook on top of the table where you and Irene were studying.

“Crazy?” Irene questioned. “Really?”

Seulgi dropped herself into the seat next to you and sighed. “No, I’m kidding. I just wanted to invite you guys to my dorm tomorrow to have a study session and a few glasses of wine.”

“Ugh. I’m in. I have been crazed this whole week and I need the alcohol.” You shut your textbook and rubbed your temples.

“Are you sure? You’re not going to isolate yourself and play Maplestory—and I mean that in the nicest way possible.” Irene reached over and clasped your hands with hers.

You laughed knowing there may have been notes of bitterness in her words. “Yes honey, I’m sure. Both Seokjin and I have mountains of work that we’ve been putting off so I don’t know when’s the next time we’re going to be online together.”

Seulgi raised her eyebrows and leaned closer to your shoulder. “And how is it going with Mr. Eatjean? Are you two going to get married in Amoria yet?”

You snorted and gently pushed Seulgi’s head away from your breathing space. To your surprise, Irene laughed along understanding what Seulgi was talking about; she never played the game but you talked about it so much with her that she caught on some of the terminology that was used.

Unfortunately, what you said was the truth. You haven’t been able to play Maplestory in a while and you really missed talking to Seokjin. It wasn’t easy being in the medical field, but you had to give your future career some of your attention at some point.

When Seulgi invited you two over for a study session, you imagined having a few glasses of wine while listening to jazz and getting a lot of work done. However, none of that happened.

Just when the three of you were settled in Seulgi’s room, almost ready to pull out the wine cork, Seulgi receives a very delightful phone call from a friend. Next thing you knew, you were carefully applying lip gloss in the backseat of an uber and Irene was racking her brain over whether or not she wanted to unbutton the first three buttons of her top.

“Ugh, just do it already! Jihyo is going to be there tonight that’s why!” Seulgi gently tugged on Irene’s hand who was holding onto yours. “And y/n, stop pulling the skirt down. That skirt was meant to be that short.”

“I know, but oh my God, the exposure!” You tugged at the end of the black pencil skirt Seulgi let you borrow.

“Sooyoung, should’ve let us know ahead of time about these plans.” Irene complained.

“At least this is way better than studying—hey, Sooyoung!” Seulgi called out.

Sooyoung met the three of you at the elevator and hastily rushed you all down the long hallway that was filled with gorgeous college students. You all entered a doorway that was also filled with students who were either already wasted or making their way towards that level. Some of the students were familiar to you and others were definite strangers; Sooyoung seemed to know most of them.

“Girl, where is your brother anyway? We have to at least greet him happy birthday first.” Irene tippy toed to get a good look of the people in the kitchen.

“He’s in here somewhere. Let’s just find him later.” Sooyoung began pouring vodka into shot cups while you poured sprite into four other cups.

“You know, I keep forgetting you have a brother.” You spoke over the mixed sounds of music and voices of people. “Why don’t you two just go to the same university?”

“Well, you know how it is. Siblings, different majors, scholarships, blah blah blah.” Sooyoung brushed passed the subject and handed out the shots and chasers. “Come on, you girls need to catch up, especially Irene because Jihyo looks hot as fuck tonight—to Jihyo!”

Sooyoung raised her shot cup and while you and Seulgi complied with the cheer, Irene begged you all to tune it down. Although she did mutter, to Jihyo, before gulping down her vodka.

You, Seulgi, and Sooyoung were huddled in one part of the living room to keep an eye on Irene who seemed to be a bit more confident in talking to her crush; all thanks to some liquid courage.

The entire floor was covered with people making it almost impossible to not bump into anyone.

“Oh! Sorry!” You yelled over music. “This place is so boujee! If I ever lived here, I would never leave.”

Seulgi laughed and nudged your shoulder. “Penthouse or not, you never leave your dorm anyway!”

“Ooh! Is it because of that game you’re playing? How is that dude-guy anyway?” Sooyoung slurred.

You scrunch your nose and helped your drunk friend sit down on a nearby chair. “How much did you drink before we arrive?”

Sooyoung gently tugged on your pencil skirt. “Answer me question. When are you and denim jeans getting married in Amoria?”

Seulgi threw a fit of laughter as she explained to Sooyoung that she said the exact same thing.

“We are not getting married in Amoria. We’re not even in a relationship.” You squished Sooyoung’s cheeks with one hand and took a sip from your mixed drink.

“But why not? It seems like you and sack-jeans are into each other. I say, date!” Sooyoung waved her red cup in the air and you and Seulgi did your best to calm her down. A drunk Sooyoung was something else.

“Honey, you need to relax. It’s only eight in the evening and for your information, his name is Seokjin and we’re just Maplestory buddies right now. We don’t even know what each other looks like.” You stroked Sooyoung’s hair and took another sip of your drink.

“Y/n, just listen to the poor girl and date him!” Seulgi let out a high pitch snicker and gave Sooyoung a high five.

Talking about Seokjin was definitely bringing your mood down. Maybe it was the alcohol messing with your emotions for than usual, but you really missed talking with him.

“Y-Y/n?”

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, making eye contact with one of the cutest guys you ever laid your eyes on. He wore a red t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and had jet black hair that was styled upward. If his eyes didn't catch your attention, his lips sure did. The only thing wrong with him was that he knew your name and you didn’t recognize him at all.

“Um and you are?” You questioned, readying yourself to perform some sort of self-defense.

“It’s me.” He gestured to himself. “Seokjin.”

↠↞

Seokjin weaved himself around the kitchen, trying to find a bottle of Grey Goose to refill his drink.

“Damnit, Jimin. How many people do you know?!” Seokjin grunted. “Oh, Joy! Pass me the bottle when you’re done.”

The already-drunk-sister of his friend gave him a thumbs up before filling up the last shot cup and slid the bottle down the counter. Seokjin tried to thank her, but her focus was immediately back to her friends.

“Dude, where’d you go?!” Yoongi bumped into Seokjin, almost making him spill his drink.

“Okay, I know you need this wild ass night, but please relax. This is my favorite shirt. It accents my shoulders.” Seokjin grabbed his friend’s cup to give him a refill.

“Hurry. Namjoon is freestyling in the living room and it’s fucking fire.” Yoongi nudged Seokjin’s arm to make him lead the way into the living room.

Seokjin was more than supportive of his friend’s desire to drink his stress away, but having to deal with Yoongi’s drunk ass plus a few more of his friends was making him wish he was back at his dorm, double clicking the Maplestory icon. But he had to admit, Namjoon was spitting bars.

“Oh! Sorry!”

Seokjin turned around to find one of his friends stumbling over, almost knocking down a group of girls.

“Good grief, Sandeul. Sit here, please.” Seokjin gently forced his friend to sit down on the couch in front of him.

Just a few more hours, Seokjin. Just hold out for a few more hours, then you can drag Yoongi back to the dorm.

“-getting married in Amoria?”

Seokjin chuckled. I guess there are other Maplestory players here.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he was trying to catch wind of the conversation behind him. However, the music and crowd was too loud to hear most of the conversation.

“-and for your information, his name is Seokjin and we’re just Maplestory buddies for now.”

“Y/n, just listen—”

Huh, Seokjin. That’s my name too- WAIT.

Taking the heavy risk of appearing as a creeper, Seokjin turned around and tapped the girl behind him.

Here goes.

“Y-Y/n?”

When she turned around, Seokjin was blessed to see the cutest girl he has ever seen.

“Um and you are?”

Seokjin braced himself and pointed to his chest. “It’s me. Seokjin.”

You widen your eyes and Seokjin could tell you weren’t as convinced.

“U-uh, it’s really me. Eatjean? I just helped you farm for more mesos because you were scammed the day before.” Seokjin’s heart was thundering in his chest. The alcohol could’ve also played a role in that, but it was also because he was extremely nervous that the girl right before his eyes was actually a different person.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You repeated. “Oh my God, you’re really Seokjin!”

The nervousness was slowly exiting his body once he saw the smile that grew on your face. Thank heavens, it was really you.

“Y-Yeah. It’s me! Wow, I just—I’m—w-wow.” Those words were the only ones that Seokjin could muster.

You let out a snicker and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “I can’t believe—”

“Seokjin?! This is denim jeans?! Date her!” Sooyoung suddenly gripped your shoulders.

“Excuse her. Sooyoung get your shit together for a second please—” Seulgi tugged at Sooyoung to leave you two alone. “Continue!”

Seokjin chuckled and looked over his shoulder to check on his friends who were still invested in freestyling. He then took you by the hand to stand in one part of the living room that had a little less people.

“You’re friends with Jimin’s sister?” Seokjin questioned.

“Yeah! We go to the same university. Why the hell hasn’t she mentioned you to me before?” You sighed sadly.

“I’m actually closer to Jimin.” He explained. “I even forget that her real name is Sooyoung. Jimin only refers to her as ‘Joy.’”

You took a sip out of your drink and nodded your head. “What a small ass world.”

Seokjin stuffed his hand in his pocket and leaned in closer to you. “You wanna get out of here?”

↠↞

“I told you to not use the scroll! It only had a fifty percent success rate.” You shook Seokjin by the shoulders who was devastated by the choice he made.

At first, you were feeling hints of regret after quickly accepting Seokjin’s invitation because you didn’t know what his intentions were. But he was just as quick to assure you that he wanted to bring you to his dorm to have some pizza and help him with his character’s accessories.

Seokjin was the perfect gentleman, just as you imagined. He gave you some of his clothes to change into so you were comfortable, he even stepped out of his dorm so you could have privacy. He let you sit in his gaming chair while he took a random stool from inside the dorm. When the pizza arrived, he remembered how much you loved pizza crust so he gave you every single one from each slice he took.

If you knew this was the type of guy Seokjin was, you would’ve gave him your instagram a long time ago.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I took a huge risk here.” Seokjin spun you around in his chair. “And I remember a certain someone who spent almost nine hundred thousand mesos on a staff she ended up not needing.”

“Fine, fine. Touche.” You scoffed and jokingly threatened to leave his dorm.

You scanned Seokjin’s desk and saw nothing but textbooks, what seemed to be study guides, and a few empty coffee cups. Being under the same university major umbrella, you understood the mess all too well.

“How’s your studying going?” You asked, tidying up some of his papers.

“Ehhh. I put the dying in studying.” Seokjin joked and you playfully hit his shoulder. “I’ve been up all night for the past few days.”

“Awww, you poor baby.” You ran your fingers through his hair and his eyelids fluttered closed at your touch. “Well, I guess it’s sort of no different from when you’re playing Maplestory with me.”

“Hmmm, I beg to differ. I actually enjoy spending time with you online.” Seokjin sighed happily. “And maybe I can enjoy spending time with you in person this time around?”

You laughed and brought your hands to your face to hide the blush he caused. “Ohhhhh, very smooth, Seokjin.”

“Do you accept this quest?”

You studied Seokjin’s facial features on more time; his big eyes and pouty lips. After knowing each other through an online game, it was only right for you to finally get to know the real Seokjin.

From what you already knew, he was a sweet man who enjoyed trying new food, doing word search puzzles, and taking every opportunity presented to him to make some sort of pun. He could be a bit cheesy and a bit dorky, but it was all endearing. And because of all the time you’ve spent reading his cheesy lines through your laptop screen, the next words that came out of your mouth was just as cheesy and dorky, but it fit the moment.

“Quest accepted.”

♡ rae jagi

#bangtan boys #bts #seokjin #seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #jin #bts jin #jin fluff #jin crack #bts fluff #bts crack #why hello there #how u doin #prince #rae writes

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lovesickjoon · 6 years

Text

bad religion - jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook/reader

rating: NSFW (18+)

genre: SMUT, hunter!reader au, kingofhell!jungkook (yes this was highkey inspired by spn)

words: 6.7k

desc.: it was a bad religion to fall for someone who could never love you. but, thankfully you hadn't fallen yet. and who knows? maybe he could learn how to love. or namjoon, your dumbass witchy friend ends up possessed by a demon. on halloween night, you make a deal with the devil to try and get him back.

warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, dom!jungkook, tiny bit of breathplay, possessive jungkook, probably forgetting something

notes: im sick so this is super unedited! also this is my p late submission for the BTS Smut Club Halloween Smut Fest: Prompt #77 “You can’t sell me your soul, when you don’t have one to begin with.”

The warmth of Summer was long gone. The air felt sticky, despite the chilly breeze. The moon was abnormally bright, casting a silver glow upon the Earth. It was unsettling, being able to only see the moon, and not a single star. The inky clouds that occasionally floated in front of the hanging, luminous pearl, never once caused it to dim. Your stomach churns and twists in protests. Your subconscious continuously beckoned to you, begging for you to turn back. It had been a long drive to find the secluded crossroads, and it was too late to turn back.

You had parked your car several blocks away and were now on foot. Driving this far into the countryside was new to you. Hopefully, you wouldn't have to drive this far here again. It never failed, Namjoon always managed to fuck something up.

There wasn't a shred of doubt in your mind. You knew this would work. It had taken hours of relentless searching to find the proper incantation. You had to dig through the witch's files for days before you found anything remotely close to what you needed.

Witchcraft was something you had promised yourself to avoid messing with. You always left it to Namjoon. You did the stabbing and he did the casting. You were on your own, and you were the only person willing to help your poor fuck up of a best friend.

You glanced around the road, eyeing the sides carefully. You gathered several decent sized rocks. You dropped the bag cautiously onto the dirt and kneeled. You adjusted each rock until they formed a somewhat circular shape. You drew each ingredient out of your bag and placed them in the middle of the circle, one by one. You grabbed a pebble and used it to sketch out the sigil into the dirt. You had to sketch delicately around the rock formation, the last thing you wanted was to mess up the ceremony.

Next, you brought out six onyx colored candles. You pulled the lighter from your jacket, the dirt crunching beneath your weight as you moved. The flame flickered to life, nearly fading out because of the howling wind. You lit the first candle, using your body to block the wind. The candles were specifically created for summoning. They endlessly burn, and are entirely unaffected by nature, unlike your lighter. You returned the lighter back to its place and used the one candle you had burning to light the others.

Next was the picture of you.

You pricked yourself with the needle, squeezing and massaging your finger to try and make the blood flow out easier. The drop landed directly onto the picture of you, and you felt more queasy than ever.

You cleared your throat, staring down at the dancing flames of the candles. The energy is already coursing through the pages, waiting to be unleashed. You can feel it humming through the thick leather. A shaky sigh escapes you when you tightly grasp the book and yank it from the confines of your bag. The book practically leaps into your arms and flings itself open. It violently splits open, the pages hastily whirl by on their own. It was as if the book had a mind of its own.

It seemed... eager... to be used.

The howling wind and the tossing of the grass seemed to still when the first words parted from your lips. You inhaled deeply, trying to focus. The words were familiar, you had repeated them to yourself for hours on end, trying to learn the spell. Though you spoke in broken Latin, you knew the words were transmitting. The text began to glow, and the book grew hotter with each sentence you finished.

The ground began to rumble, and you knew the creature was being torn from its throne. Your throat tightened, and you felt tears begin to poke from the corners of your eyes. It was so much worse being the individual to actually summon a demon. Rarely, when you were observing Namjoon complete a ritual, did you get sick. You always knew that, watching Namjoon get sick. You never realized entirely how sickening the process really was though. It was draining, mentally and physically. It felt as if you were right on the brink of death.

You choked out the last word and threw the book from your hands. The feeling of your skin sizzling and melting away made you hiss. You grabbed your arm, desperate to stop the pain. The book was entirely illuminated, glowing painfully bright. You wrench your eyes closed, the wind was roaring now, and you were convinced the entire planet was rocking back and forth.

Then it was calm.

The book dimmed, the candles simultaneously blew out, and the wind blew away the sketch in the dirt. Your picture was entirely singed, along with the ingredients. The rocks had sunk into the ground at some point during the ritual. The only thing that was left was burnt ashes. More importantly, your skin hadn't dissolved away. You stand and dust yourself off. You glance around, expecting to see someone standing around, watching you with curiosity.

You contemplated leaving, going and finding a place where you could have a couple of drinks... Or maybe a nest full of vamps you could stake.

Anything to get your mind off of this.

You pluck up the book and your bag. Everything felt different, but not in ways that you could name. It was such a slight shift in the atmosphere it was almost unnoticeable. For a fleeting moment, you worried if you had pronounced something wrong and unleashed something terrible out into the world.

You waited.

Unlike the person you were summoning, you were not immortal. You couldn't sit here and stare blankly at the sky until he showed up. At this rate, you were going to die before he arrived.

You persisted anyway.

You were determined to fix Namjoon's mess, even though he was the one to dig his own grave. You stood there like the ugly girl at prom, waiting for the guy who promised to be her date to show up.

"Sorry, I was running late. It's not often someone calls me directly from my throne."

You twirl around, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try and turn. Features scrunching up in confusion, you examine the man head to toe. How the fuck had you managed to summon an angel? The dark, doe eyes twinkle in amusement, and he grins.

"What? Were you expecting my horns to be larger? I didn't want to frighten you, delicate mortal."

You froze, and your heart lurched. It was finally settling in. You had just summoned the fucking King of Hell. His tall, lean figure didn't intimidate you. Not in the slightest. If it wasn't for the horns and the occasional shifting of his eye color, he could pass as someone your age. In no way, shape, or form did he appear to even be an ancient demon. The power, raw and unadulterated, radiating off of him was the off-putting part. The demon glanced towards the ashes, eyeing them carefully. He reaches towards the ashes and pinches a bit of the ash between his fingers.

He blows the dust from his fingers and raises his eyebrows. "A deal?" he asks. He eyes you suspiciously and wipes away the smear of ash off. "You waited specifically until Hallows' Eve to do this. Didn't you?"

As if you were a video, someone had taken the remote and stopped you from moving or speaking. You were on pause. You didn't know how to answer, should you lie? Should you tell the truth? The demon takes a step towards you, coming closer than you were comfortable with. You catch a glimpse of red in his eyes, and then it's gone.

He smirks, "I see. You purposely waited, just to summon little old me. This must not be a regular deal then. Oh. Don't bother trying to lie to me, because it obviously won't work."

You mentally give yourself a good shake and try to focus on your objective. You could probably knife this bastard just as easily as any other demon.

He rolls his eyes, "Mortals, all of you are so feeble-minded. Tell me, what is it you want? True love? Fortune? An extra cup size? Go ahead, sweetheart. This is always the busiest night in Hell."

"I want you to stop whichever one of your little minions it is from wearing my best friend. I only want him sane, completely alive, and back where he belongs," you hiss.

The worst thing is having someone incredibly powerful laughing directly in your face.

Which is exactly what he did. The King cackles until he doubles over, appearing to be in pain from laughing so hard. You internally cringe, and the repulsive feeling returns to your gut. He really found you.. amusing. You were concerned about the well being of your friend. Yet, this asshole was laughing.

You have to really resist the urge to whip your knife from your side and gank him right then and there.

"Not a problem, sweetheart," he raises his head, the grin still on his lips. He circles around you like a vulture, inspecting every inch of you. "Before we talk payment... Tell me, how did he end up as a vessel for a demon of mine?"

Truth be told, you weren't entirely sure. Namjoon wouldn't let some demon merely hop in his body and take it for a ride. Also, he hated messing with demons in the first place. You had kind of came to the conclusion that he had somehow been tricked, or forced. The last time you barged into his house, he had black eyes and threw you against a wall with simply a wave of his hand. He didn't answer a single question and only rummaged through his files. Maybe the demons wanted information? There was no way for you to be entirely sure.

He hums almost inaudibly, seemingly thinking. He had read your thoughts again.

"Have you considered the idea that maybe your friend wanted to be a vessel?"

Before he even finished the sentence, you were already shaking your head. "Why? Why would he want to ride backseat while someone else controls his body? That doesn't make sense."

He crosses his arms and shrugs. "How will you pay me?" his tone lowers, and he stops in front of you once more. You hold your breath as he nears you again. From this angle, you can see that innocent glimmer even better.

You frown, "Well, my soul. That's usually the price, correct?"

"Indeed," he hums. "But you can't sell me your soul when you don't have one, to begin with."

The metal jewelry glinted just enough to catch your attention. You focus your attention on the silver adorning his wrist, mulling over his words. You never played around with this kind of thing. Unless someone appeared in the middle of the night and siphoned it from you, he was lying. It wouldn't surprise you in the slightest if he really was lying. He was the King of Hell, and lying was what he did best. He tilts his head to the side, pouting.

"You don't believe me?" He asks.

He sighs and then the pout drops from his features. "The names Jungkook, by the way. Constantly referring to me as the King gets annoying after a while," he snorts.

You go silent, unsure of what to do, or what to believe. You were already low on cash, so you definitely weren't going to be able to give him a regular payment. Besides, a part in the back of your mind knew he wouldn't want it anyway. "How am I alive if I don't have a soul? How did I lose my soul?" you demand. Surprise flashes across his features, and it vanishes as quickly as it arrived.

"You think it's a big contract, just like every other mortal on Earth, don't you?" He asks in a mocking manner. "Technically, yes. You can lose your soul due to a big contract, similar to a contract that would be made here."

He pauses and steps away. He places his hand underneath his chin, trying to formulate a better way to explain his thoughts.

"It's a series of little agreements and every little fuck up counts. As for the how you're alive part, you can live a perfectly normal life even if your soul is gone. You're not unique, you're just the same as any other regular mortal. Until you die, that is. Then you're destined to fall straight into the pit."

You reflect on the haunting words, trying to think of every single thing you had done wrong. The list was honestly quite long at this point. You had done several horrible things in the past, trying to save your own ass from the fire. Only to learn that you were destined to fall right into it anyway. You never harmed animals, you never hurt anyone that didn't deserve to be hurt. You thought you were doing the moral thing.

"The devil has a thousand faces, sweetheart. Sorry to break the news this way," he mutters, not looking sorry in the slightest.

"If that's the case, then how do any souls get sold at all?"

The corner of his mouth twists in irritation. He clearly didn't appreciate the number of questions you had for him.

"Not everyone fucks up as easily as you have. Some souls simply are worth more than others, but most others just make fewer mistakes. Even if their essence is close to being fully corrupted, we usually will accept it. That is... if the deal is over something minor. You though, you're asking me to bother one of my own, and there's pretty much nothing to gain from you. No profit."

"Pathetic," he sneers condescendingly. "It's been years since I've seen a mortal completely corrupt themselves all on their own. You're lucky, though. I'm willing to fetch your little friend if you're willing to pay a different price."

Jungkook takes a confident stride towards you. You fought the urge to take a step back and start sprinting in the other direction. Jungkook cupped your face, gently brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones. Your cheeks scorched with embarrassment. Your mind clouded, and it became hard to think with him so near. Your face feels frozen, but burns where he caresses you gently. It took a moment before you could form a coherent thought.

"What's the price?" you ask, your stomach in knots.

He grins, "I get to fuck you. Since I've laid eyes on you, I've had an overwhelming desire to pin you down and whisper the filthiest things into your ear. I want to hear you whine and whimper until the pleasure becomes too much for you to handle. I think that's a fair deal, don't you?"

You felt lightheaded. The slightest breeze could come along and tip you over with ease. "Right now?" you murmur, voice failing you. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog surrounding your mind and vision.

"No, Y/N. I will come to collect my payment soon."

You want to ask how he knows your name, but you figure it's a demon thing. Besides, you probably couldn't force the words out of your mouth at the moment anyway. His fingers remain on your face, and he didn't break eye contact. He was probably doing this on purpose, trying to lure you into a contract. Too bad for him, he was only wasting his energy. You were going to say yes either way. It was the eye contact, or scent, or.. something! It was him, he was the culprit making you feel this way.

"Yes," you spit out, finding it to be a struggle to make your voice go louder than a whisper.

The urge to throw yourself in his arms and let him care for you for the rest of eternity burns strongly inside of you, but you suppress it. It was his energy, you didn't even know him or anything about him. He presses his body into you eagerly, lips closing in on yours. His figure was so much warmer, compared to your mortal frame. It was thrilling, but terrifying considering you were so close to something that could easily snap you in two. Warmth spreads from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

There was a swirl of indescribable emotions in your chest when the two of you broke apart. The kiss didn't last near as long as you wished it had. He stepped away from you, and you knew the deal was sealed.

He turns on his heel and marches away. The fog dissipates, the more distance there is between the two of you. There's another strange warmth, and it's creeping it's way up your arm. You roll up your sleeve with slightly cloudy vision, searching for the cause of the feeling. Right below the bend of your elbow is a mark. It materializes into a branded mark, and the symbol is easily recognizable. It's the sigil you drew to summon him. He had stuck a claim on you.

Your head darts up when you hear a violent cough. On the ground, a few feet away from you, is Namjoon. The sigil etched into your skin and every thought of Jungkook disappeared from your mind.

It had been a week since that night, and Namjoon was still pissed. He wouldn't admit it, but his actions spoke volumes. There had been no sign of Jungkook, leaving you regularly on edge. The mark scorched into your skin was obnoxious. At night, you would wake up, convinced someone had put your arm in a boiling pot of water.

"What's next?" Namjoon asked, reaching for one of the flasks on the bottom shelf. He shifts the basket on his arm and starts to stroll along again. You followed behind Namjoon like a lost puppy. "Oil of Abramelin," you responded, eyeing the list carefully.

When Namjoon didn't acknowledge you, you tried to pry once more.

"You can get that here?"

Namjoon kept his back turned to you, but you knew he was rolling his eyes. The building was like a maze, and the fluorescent lights above probably gave away every skin imperfection you had. There was a moment of silence, and then Namjoon sighed. "Humans who want to meddle in the dark arts can't buy anything here."

You frowned, definitely still pissed. You bite your lip, wanting to make a snide remark back, but also not wanting to see a Namjoon meltdown in public. Everything in the store seemed antique. Each item seemed crammed onto the shelf rather than place artistically. The painted text on the aisle directory signs was peeling away.

Only chunks of words were recognizable, but it didn't help in the slightest. All of the products appeared to be scattered throughout the store carelessly. So, the signs wouldn't have been much help regardless.

Namjoon led you further into the shop, and you could tell the rear of this place rarely was used. Dust had gathered on pretty much every surface available. Even the spiders had abandoned the back of the shop. Their silk webs were now another collector of dust and pollen. Namjoon ignored the cobwebs, plucking thing randomly off of the shelves as he passed them.

"Next?" Namjoon asked, stopping abruptly. You fling your arms out in front of you, trying to avoid crashing into him. You stabilize and fumble with the list.

"Fulgurite," you read, squinting at the word in confusion. "Whatever that is."

Before Namjoon could completely twist around again, you lightly hooked your fingers into the back of his shirt. He studied you with a puzzled expression, "What?"

Feeling awkward, you release his shirt and let your hand drop to your side. "How many times have I apologized already?"

The question comes off slightly harsh, although you don't intend for it to sound that way. You didn't care though, Namjoon would be way too willing to hold this grudge against you for as long as he could. Namjoon glanced around as if he was expecting to see other customers nearby. It's deserted except for the ancient cashier. She was most likely hard of hearing anyhow.

"We've already been through this," he retorted, dropping his voice low.

"Yeah, but-"

You swallowed, trying to force the words to come out of your throat. It became hard to make out the details of the room, and the features of Namjoon. A wave of heat coursed through your veins, starting with the mark. Your ears popped, and the deep voice calling your name went muffled. Through blurred vision, you could see Joon wave his hand in front of your face. Nothing you did stopped the warmth rising in your chest. You buckle over, and you feel cool hands grab you by your shoulders. Namjoon does his best to guide you to the floor as safely as possible.

Then Namjoon's soothing hands disappear. You're drifting. There's no floor underneath you, nothing you can grab onto, and the weight of your clothes is missing. The fear, the worry, it has departed too. You feel abnormally calm, despite what had just happened. You unclench your eyes, startled to see an unfamiliar sky above you. You raised yourself from the bed, breath hitching in your throat.

Jungkook sat, perched right beside you on the bed. His mouth erupts into a sinister grin, and he greets you. "Welcome to Hell."

You were in a room, not outside, you concluded. The ceiling above resembled a night sky. There was something about the way the lights twinkled that made you feel as if it wasn't real. After a few more moments of gazing at the faux sky, your eyes drifted to Jungkook. Jungkook, the reality you didn't want to face. "Hello," you murmur, almost inaudibly.

"You don't sound very happy to see me," he remarks.

Namjoon comes to mind, you envision him on his knees in the shop. He was probably baffled by how you managed to vanish right from his arms. You had absolutely no reason to be happy to see Jungkook. Jungkook shifting on the bed catches your attention. He smirks and crosses his arms, "Oh, I see. You're upset because I interrupted the fight between you and your little boy-toy."

You scoffed, "Namjoon's like a brother to me, it's not like that. Besides, he's obviously not interested, and neither am I."

"Oh, Y/N..." he trails off, shaking his head. At some point, Jungkook had moved closer to you. He snakes his fingers up your arm and to the bend of your elbow. Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment you can't breathe. Jungkook brushes his thumb over the mark, and you swear little sparks shoot up your arm. "How does Namjoon feel about you selling your body to me?"

You lower your eyes, and the deafening silence answers the question. Jungkook tilts your chin up, so you are no longer looking away from him. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

He already knew the answer, but he wanted you to confirm it. You hesitantly shook your head, "Not what I sold."

The arm he was tracing over the mark with slipped itself around your waist. The grip around your waist tightened, and you could feel Jungkook's energy shift. "Y/N, if you genuinely don't want to do this, I won't force you. Tell me now, though, and I'll leave you alone."

You disregarded the sound of your heart beating tensely, trying to think through this carefully. Jungkook called to you softly, "Y/N, I hope you realize I am a very selfish and greedy person. This can be a one-time thing, or we can do it often. Know that I have no plans to share you with someone else though."

This was your chance to say no. From past experiences, you knew you were prone to desiring a relationship, craving the romantic things. Casual sex in the past never really stayed that for you. He could never love you back if you were to fall for him. Yes, Jungkook had the decency to ask you if you wanted this or not. That didn't mean he knew how to love another.

The easy solution was just to say no. Why would you take that route though? You could decide later if you were going to take a gamble at doing this again... For now, you were not going to miss this opportunity. Overcome with desire, you breathe out a faint 'yes.'

Jungkook dipped his head down and kissed you deeply. Your eyes fell closed, and all you could feel was warmth. The warmth of his mouth on yours, the heat from the mark, and the warmth of just his very being. The intoxication that Jungkook had brought upon you last time returned. There wasn't a doubt about it, the King of Hell already had you wrapped around his finger.

You whimper when Jungkook pushes your lips apart with his tongue. He explored your mouth with the intent to claim. He was conveying his message from earlier to you again, he was not going to be willing to share your body with another. Every inch of you was now his.

He broke the kiss, allowing you to catch your breath. Jungkook went for your jaw, sloppily trailing kisses down to your neck. It took a few moments before you realized Jungkook was simultaneously pushing you down onto the bed while marking your neck. He removed himself from your neck with a frustrated growl. Jungkook raised his hand, and the tip of his finger began to glow. With a single touch to your shirt, the material crumbled and dissolved into thin air.

You gasped, shocked by the sudden actions. Jungkook didn't merely stop at your shirt. He proceeded until you were completely exposed and on display for him. His palm found your breast, his fingers massaging it in a way that had your core throbbing. The wet heat between your thighs was growing more and more with each action. He reached for your nipple, gently tugging and rubbing it between his fingertips. This provokes a whine out of you, and he hums contently. His concentration turned to the other breast, and he repeated the same steps.

"You're so fucking pretty," Jungkook uttered, nipping at your sensitive chest once more. The kisses return, but this time, they're much more rushed. His attention trails lower, down past your ribs and all the way to your thighs. Jungkook parts your legs and moves between them. He resumes his path of kisses, now that your legs are parted.

Although you should expect it, you don't. A sharp moan rips itself from your throat when Jungkook finds your clit. He takes the tender nub into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it in different patterns. You withered underneath his touch, panting wildly. This feeling was so much different compared to your previous partner's attempts. Jungkook had a skilled, very well practiced tongue. He undoubtedly knew what he was doing. Jungkook brings his hands to your hips, striving to still your trembling form.

Jungkook licks a stripe up your slit, and you mindlessly let your hand drift to his hair. You wind your fingers into his hair, and the angle he looks up at you from exposes his glistening forehead. His furrowed eyebrows and the look of concentration on his face made you ecstatic. "Does this feel good, baby?"

"F-Fuck, yes," you whimpered. A squeak escaped you when Jungkook slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly starts to work you open. Your fingers tightened in Jungkook's hair, causing him to groan. He dipped another finger into your wet heat, producing a loud noise from you. You do your best to silence your cries, but with such a cloudy mind, it's a struggle.

Jungkook seems to sense that you're holding back, so he doubles his efforts. "Such a tight little slut, you're taking my fingers so well," he smirks, knowing damn well what his words do to you. He sinks his fingers in and out of you repeatedly, working them faster than before. "...I can't wait to see how you take my cock."

Not being able to hold back any longer, you let your hips roll to meet the thrusts of his fingers. You were so slick and soaked, at this point there was no way the sheets weren't tainted. Jungkook went back to lapping at your clit, slamming his fingers in and curling them. Your back arched from the bed, sharp pleasure shooting up your spine. Jungkook had hit the sweet spot inside of you, but your brain was so muddled it took you a moment to figure out what he was doing.

His tongue circling and twirling around your sensitive clit grew faster. Jungkook added a third finger, making sure you were nice and fucked out for him. It was beginning to be too much, you didn't know how much longer you could last. You try to cry out Jungkook's name, try to warn him your about to tip over the edge, but you can't. It's too late. You clenched around his fingers, rolling your hips and wailing out his name.

He helps you ride out your orgasm, before drawing himself away from your soaked core. You expected the fogginess to lessen, instead of growing worse. You struggle, trying to scramble upwards. You're so, so tired, but you're dying to continue.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook queries, confusion written all over his features.

"Returning the favor-"

Jungkook puts a hand in front of you, motioning for you to slow down. He stands, letting his clothes disintegrate and disappear. He shakes his head, "You don't seem to understand who makes the decisions around here, but okay. You want me? You'll get me."

You peel yourself from the bed and drop to your knees obediently. Your face was perfectly level to Jungkook's long, throbbing cock. It was standing proudly, a thick vein wrapped from the top to the underside. The way Jungkook was glaring down at you had you feeling eager and more submissive than ever. You scooted closer, opening your mouth for him. "Good girl," he hums.

He slid himself over your lips a couple of times in a teasing manner. After a few moments, he finally pushes himself into your mouth. He moved slowly, not stopping until he hit the back of your throat.

You linked your hands behind your back, letting Jungkook have full control of the pace. His fingers met the back of your head, guiding you up and down his length.

"You little slut, you've had plenty of practice, hm? You're taking me pretty well," he grunted, drawing himself out of you until his head was back at your lips. You ignored the ache in your knees, knowing damn well you were going to have a horrible carpet burn later. Jungkook hisses in pleasure, "Is this how you tainted your soul? By sucking as many dicks as you could so you could become a pro?"

The words made your insides burn once more, just when you thought you were sated.

You were anxious to please, so you hollowed your cheeks against him. You went to bob your head, but Jungkook held you still. You gazed up and met his eyes, causing him to groan. A thick band of sweat was developing on his forehead. His hair was beginning to stick to his forehead. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on breathing. You hear him murmur something along the lines of, 'fucking gorgeous.' You can't make out the rest of the sentence, too concentrated on controlling your breath.

Your throat tightened around him, and for the first time in the session, you gagged. Jungkook yanked you off of him, and you gasped for air. You opened your mouth again, despite your aching jaw. He slid into your mouth with ease, meeting the back of your throat again. This time he was rougher, thrusting quicker and quicker. You knew he was getting close, and he did too. He gave a few more thrusts and then slipped out from between your lips.

You craved Jungkook more than ever now. Lust surged in you, loins stirring. His tone and his harsh words triggered something inside of you that you didn't really understand. Without speaking, you knew what Jungkook craved from you. You rose and crawled onto the bed. You were correct, your knees were fucked. You didn't pay any more attention to it, needing all of your focus to go to Jungkook.

Jungkook chuckled darkly, a knowing look in his eyes. His voice grows closer and soon enough, he's right behind you. "You're this excited to be fucked by a demon, I can't believe it. I'm a monster. I'm the fucking King of Hell, and yet here you are. You're presenting yourself to me, practically begging for it."

He planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before rearing his hand back and slapping your ass. You glanced back in shock. One of his hands were busy, pumping up and down his cock. The other hand cracked against your skin, extracting a yelp from you. Jungkook positioned himself over you, and you arched your back into him.

"Please," you whine quietly. Your voice was unsteady, and there was nothing you could do to control it. Jungkook doesn't reply at first, deliberating on his next move. "Are you this eager for all cock, or am I just special?" he growls, delivering another smack to your ass.

"Yours! Only your cock!" you cry out, feeling tears begin to build up. His free hand roamed from your ass to your flooded heat. He cupped your core gently, and you jerked lightly. You were still a bit sensitive from the earlier orgasm. His fingers find your clit, and he flicks his wrists in a circular motion a few times. Just as quickly as the touches came, they disappeared. Your walls uncontrollably grasped and tensed around nothing.

You need him to fill you to the brim already. You needed him to fuck you until you couldn't walk or see straight. Right when your patience started running out, he puts his cock to your entrance. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to think of any other dick than mine. Your poor little boyfriend will never be able to make you feel this way."

You were so worked up, at this point you didn't bother to argue that Namjoon wasn't your boyfriend. He moved his cock up your slit, brushing against your clit. You wiggled excitedly, stomach in knots. The head of his cock found your entrance again. He leans his weight onto you and enters you.

"I'm going to ruin you," he barks, bringing his hand down on your backside. The initial thrusts are slow like he's testing how far your depths go. He was also most likely giving your walls time to adjust to his size. You don't hold back your noises now, letting them spring wildly from your lips. You're glad you had already orgasmed once, so you were slick. This made the glide and stretch so much better.

Then, Jungkook yanks himself from you almost entirely. When he thrusts back in, it's with nearly enough strength to knock you into the headboard. Your arms trembled, trying to hold yourself up. Jungkook slams into you again, and for a split second, you think you're going to fall face first into the silk sheets. Jungkook's hand travels up to your shoulder, and he helps hold you steady.

"Fuck," you spit out, heavily heaving. Jungkook keeps his promise, each thrust was going to ruin you. He snaps his hips up into you at a ruthless speed. Eventually, your arms do fail on you. Your face was buried into the sheets, along with your fingers twisted into them. "I don't think I've ever felt a pussy as tight as yours, fuck," he rumbles.

Jungkook places his other hand on your shoulder. He uses both arms to yank you up, and to his chest. You're lifted off the bed now, and your legs are thrown over Jungkook's thick thighs. Jungkook never stops pounding into you, although you're pretty much sitting in his lap. His hand travels from his shoulder, past your collarbones, and to your throat.

He wraps his hand gently around it, ever so slightly constricting your breathing. You snap your hips down onto him the best you can. Your tits bounce lewdly, and you can do nothing but helplessly moan. Jungkook seemed to like this angle, not wanting to release you or your throat. You rotated your hips and did your best to grind down onto him with equal passion. He releases your throat but decides to hook his arms under your own. He lets you lean forwards slightly, so the only thing keeping you from smacking your face onto the bed is his arms hooked around your shoulders.

The coil in your tummy was threatening to snap, but you urged it away. There was a tiny sense of control you had before, but now there was none. Jungkook had inhuman strength and could toss you around as he pleased. Jungkook is close to your ear, panting heavily. Somehow, he knows. "That's right, baby. You don't come until I tell you that you can. You're fucking mine."

Jungkook knew your body so well. He knew how to press your buttons and how to play with you flawlessly. He found the spot inside of you that he had previously discovered with his fingers. He angled his body so he could repeatedly jab his cock into that place. A scream erupts from your sore throat, and you try to find something to grasp onto.

You find nothing, though, and let your hands fall limply to your sides. Your limbs came back to life though when the pads of Jungkook's fingers find your clit. You nearly come on the spot but manage to choke it back. Your hands clamped around his wrist, trying to make him stop circling your sensitive nub. There was no way, you weren't going to last. There wasn't a single sign he was planning to slow down, either.

"I'm close, baby. Don't worry," Jungkook snarls. His words come off as harsh, but also endearing. His thrusts turned sloppy, and you knew he was telling the truth. No matter how messy, he was still more skilled than any other man you had ever been with.

"Come, come for me like the good girl you are," he orders, hips giving their final few jerks. You couldn't deny him even if you wanted to. The blistering, white-hot heat courses through you. He fills you immediately, and you were slightly surprised by the unfamiliar feeling. Never had someone stuffed you so full. Or filled you at all. Jungkook goes to pull out, and most of the liquid flows out from your walls.

He positions you carefully on the bed. You blink slowly, entirely spent. "You did so well for me, Y/N. Thank you," Jungkook coos. You can't see his facial expression, because you're too tired to open your eyes. Jungkook cleaned you up the best he could, and soon enough you passed out with him realizing it.

You crack your eyes open, yawning contently. There was no alarm obnoxiously beeping, forcing you to wake up. It was merely sunlight seeping through your curtains and the sound of the birds outside chirping. Jungkook must have brought you home while you were resting. Jungkook, wait? What?

Memories of last night flood you, and you raise straight up. The memories were slightly blurry, almost like you had been drunk. You frown, and after a minute or so, it becomes clear. You had held up your end of the deal.

Something still seems wrong though. You drag yourself from your bed and glance in the mirror. There are no visible bruises on you or your neck. You notice you're wearing the exact same clothes you were before Jungkook had destroyed them. After a minute or two of staring at yourself, you think you know what's wrong.

You roll up your sleeve, the mark was still there.

Jungkook had forgotten to remove it. Fuck.

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asshole--official · 4 years

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update!!

hey!! idk who really cares anymore about me and my art or whatever but here’s a little update! i’m still alive (barely). it’s a bit exhausting being on the internet now -- i haven’t been posting at all on any of my social media accounts.

i’ve gotten super self conscious on how i present my art online. i don’t usually finish my sketches and its bumming me out seeing people pull fully illustrated pieces up their asses and?? not gonna lie??? kinda disheartening???? don’’t get me wrong, i’m not trying to put anyone down by saying this i just wanted to be honest,, i kinda draw bullshit nowadays bc i’ve lost a lot of motivation mostly due to my deteriorating mental health (im fine dont worry i just watch dumb tiktoks to numb the pain). uhhh, i’ve also stopped drawing for aphmau, my main source of inspiration for the past year or two. my last piece was for the wlw zine i took apart of (check it out when it comes out if you can!!). its lowkey funny to me how little art i’ve made for the community

i haven’t really been posting at all so this isn’t much of a shocker,,, i’m gonna post my last fanart for aphmau in a couple of days of a coupledoodles from when i was watching mcd again. then probably some recently made ocs that i think turned out pretty well,after that

sorry for the people who wanted to see my dumb au or who wanted to see me interact with other fans!! idk if i’ll be posting art on here anymore bc this blog is a bit of a mess.my phone recently and unexpectedly died so i can’t use tumblr as casually as i used to. i will probably make a separate blog just to shitpost random bullshit i guess?? if thats what the rest of you want??

thank you to the hundred people that are still following me rn even after not posting regularly for the past year

#ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS LETTING ME GO BACK TO SCHOOL DURING ALL OF THIS IN TWO WEKS #huh???????#sir????????#wjAT??#ack also sorry the people whove tried talking to me #im literally still the same way but sorry lol #bops talks #(i think was the tag)

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fieryfafarfanfics · 6 years

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Haunted Desire

“He still doesn’t want to eat?” A frown curled the corners of her lips. “No.” Arms crossed against her chest, Evelyn looked at her husband. “When I kept asking him if he wanted anything for breakfast, he just faintly mumbled Hana’s name.” Harun only nipped the insides of his lower lip. “But Hana has school.” Standing beside his plump wife, dark brown eyes observed the silent child in the kitchen. “And to be honest, I thought that bringing him into our home would at least help the kid from crying so much back in the adoption center.” Left shoulder leaned against the wall, he released another sigh. “Turns out it’s not working, huh?” “At least he’s not screaming anymore.” Pink lips twitching a weak smile at the faint ray of hope, she too let out a woeful sigh. “Jun said that he’s not possessed by any Jahanams anymore, but that doesn’t stop the poor boy from remembering all that trauma he’s gone through.” “If we leave him out of our sights any more than a minute,” Strong arms flinched against his chest, “I’m just afraid he might actually conjure a Jahanam himself.” Even with a gentle swat on the left arm, Harun only flashed a bitter smile.

Before Evelyn could rebut his blatant statement, the sound of the doorbell caught their attention. “Must be Jun.” Pushing herself off the wall, the plump woman gave one last pitiful look at the broken boy. “Maybe we can ask Jun and Ariff if they have any other ideas to help him.” “Good idea.” Before she left to get the door, Harun sneaked a kiss to the top of her head. Finally, after such a gloomy atmosphere in the morning, the tall man felt his heart bloom to see such a sweet smile on her face. But alas, once his gaze returned to the boy, that tiny garden in his heart withered in worry. --- He wondered why he was alive. His stomach had growled and trembled for the fifth time today. The food in front of him was placed deliciously on the table, yet Imran didn’t have the will nor desire to consume even the slightest. Cold hands remained limp on scarred thighs. Slim fingers twitched and flinched at every sudden memory. His heart felt weak. His breathing felt weaker. The bags under his eyes became puffier each day. The veins in his eyeballs became more vivid and disgusting. Pale mouth was pressed to a single line. The obvious cracks on his lips gained a cringe from the boy every time cool air swiped across them. He needed her. He needed to see her. He needed to be with her. The whole night being left alone felt like hell on earth. He couldn’t sleep a wink. He couldn’t breathe properly. Screams and cries of the night before tore his throat until he couldn’t utter a single word. Even a tiny drop of saliva that slid down felt like fire scorching his throat. All he could manage right now was emptily staring at the food as if it was a pile of black glob. All he could manage right now was the chant of her name in his mind. He needed her. He needed to be by her side. He needed to hold her hand to know she existed. He couldn’t do this. Broken, yellow teeth chattered weakly as he lowered his head. He couldn’t do this, his heart wailed. Widened eyes burned as no tears were present. Dark pupils shrunk horribly as he stared at nothing. Hazy gaze focused on the scars and bruises on the back of his hands. Some were already faint and dark. Some were still wet and fresh. Dull, broken nails shakily dug deep into his thighs. He then saw blood stuck inside the nail of his right thumb. Breathing started to become raspy. Chapped lips finally spread apart until blood dripped from the corners. -elp- He didn’t want to be alive. He—H-Help-! He didn’t want to continue this torture. Fingers curled tightly until nails once again pierced deep into bloody palms, Imran slowly, roughly bit the insides of his torn mouth. NO—! “I’m heeeere!” His world stopped spinning. --- “Here you go Auntie Evelyn!” Bouncing by the balls of her feet, Hana gave the plastic container to the lady. “Mak made lots of chicken curry and I’m soooo fuuulll!” Whining like the child that she was, Hana wrapped her stomach with small, chubby arms and shook left and right. Evelyn only laughed cheerfully at the little girl’s bubbly personality. “Thank you, sweetie.” Hazel eyes then focused to the woman beside the child. “And thanks a lot, Jun.” Hands holding the container, she lifted it slightly and nodded her head. “I’m sure Harun would love these.” “I know he would.” Her lips returning her smile, Junaidah peeked at the kitchen. “How’s the boy?” To hear the question, Evelyn could feel her smile wither immediately. “Well…” Right hand holding the container, she nervously rubbed her arm with her left hand. “He didn’t scream last night, so you can call that improvement.” Even so, a sigh slipped out pink lips. “I wish I can say about the rest.” Her frown matched Junaidah’s that was slowly forming. “What do you mean?” Concern etched her question. Though glad that her child was happily looking at them with curious, confused eyes, Junaidah flinched slightly to the Nur mark on the back of her neck throbbing so numbly. Upon seeing such a cautious gaze on the Pendekar, Evelyn quickly waved her left hand. “H-He’s not being possessed if that’s what you think!” Panic widened a pair of hazel eyes. Blonde hair whipping lightly from the quick shake of her head, the Penjaga nervously continued, “It’s just…he hasn’t eaten at all in the past few days. And although he drank some water yesterday, he’s not drinking now and I’m just afraid this might affect his health.” Evelyn was at least thankful to feel Junaidah calming down. “I see…” Right fingers no longer twitching, Junaidah huffed a heavy sigh. “I’m glad, but I guess that’s still a prob-” CRASH! “HEY KID—WAIT!!” Both ladies and the little girl jumped from the startling sounds. Three sets of eyes stared at the kitchen, only to then gawk in shock at the sight of the frail, skinny boy. “W-What…?” Junaidah gaped like a fool. “Im—Imran?” Evelyn slid backwards in bafflement. “Imran!” Only Hana reacted with much positive bliss. “There you are!” Her left hand, which had been clutching her mother’s long skirt for the past few minutes, was immediately released after seeing the boy. “Imran, my mak brought you food!” Neither caring about her life nor safety, the little girl quickly approached the boy with quick steps. To see her daughter running towards the lifeless boy sent a terrifying chill down Junaidah’s spine. “Hana WAIT!” Voice cracked a pitch, in a blink she instantly summoned her Nur weapon. A brilliant shine of pure white was formed in her right hand, and not a second later, a beaming parang shined viciously in her grasp. Upon hearing her mother’s scream, Hana stopped immediately. Her body almost stumbled forward from the abrupt halt, the little girl then turned to her mother with a frown on her face. “Mak, what’s-?” “KID STOP-!” Innocently deep brown eyes widened to see such horror sketched on her mother’s face. “HA-ANA!!” Screams now echoed inside the house, her ears then caught the sound of rapid, approaching footsteps. Her heartbeat drumming violently inside her small chest, Hana quickly spun her heel to the direction of the footsteps. Plop! A short scream popped out of the little girl’s mouth once she felt something pounced on her. Everything happened too fast. Before Imran was inches away from Hana, Harun was already a single step away from pulling the boy back. Before the sudden impact, Evelyn had already fused with the mythical parang. Before her scream was heard, Junaidah had raised her weapon and rocketed madly at her precious daughter. Thankfully, before the Pendekar Nur could slice the poor boy’s head in half, she instead froze right in front of the two children. Her daughter wasn’t harmed. No scars were seen. No bruises appeared. She wasn’t screaming in pain. Hell, she wasn’t screaming at all. Instead, it was now replaced with silent bafflement from any of them. Two adults stood as they watched the boy shiver horribly, terribly, magnificently whilst having a stunned little girl in his frail, littler arms. “—a…n-na…” The word was merely a dying, brittle whimper that even wind alone could drown it out. “…n…a…” Again the voice – his voice – croaked weakly on her shoulder. “Ha-Ha-a-a…na—” A hiccup was heard next, along with a cough that sounded too thick to be normal. Junaidah only stood in blank stupor, hands now lowered limply until her weapon burst back to white light. Evelyn formed back to her physical figure, brown eyes just as wide and frozen at the sight before them. Three grown adults were at lost. Heavily cautious and alert at all times, but lost in bewilderment at the sudden event. Only Hana regained reality fast, deep brown eyes blinking innocently before she glanced at the shivering mess against her. His voice was too faint, too broken. Tears formed her eyes to hear her name being slurred so painfully. So thickly. Pink lips parted open, but words were void as Hana then heard louder, clearer sobs that now stained her clothed shoulder. Don’t go… That word echoed loudly in his mind. Don’t—Please d—on’t…go… Dark eyes were wide, too wide. Tears were thick on each heavy socket. Pale cheeks finally brought a hint of colour. Dry lips finally felt wet at the drip of endless tears. His trembling still occurred from head to toe. He felt cold, too cold, and the little girl in his arms was warmth he so desperately needed— He felt something wrapped around him. For once, he didn’t flinch nor feel the need to struggle. “Hi Imran…” Her voice. Her voice was all he needed to regain sanity back to this earth. Finally his voice was heard. Finally a wail cracked the intense atmosphere in the room. His body still shivered. His muscles still strained and twisted. Blood now dripped slightly from the corner of his lips, but pain was now irrelevant from his consciousness once he felt her gentle embrace. For once, he felt warm. Again and again he cried, head now buried in her shoulder. Again and again Hana returned his tears, small hands giving countless pats to the boy’s horribly bruised back. Junaidah, Evelyn, and Harun only watched the emotional unfold around them. Words were absent. Only stupefied stares and exchanged glances became their form of communication. After what felt like hours, the Pendekar Nur released a heavy sigh. Upon feeling her concern, Evelyn looked to her direction. Their eyes met along with their tiny frowns. Even without words, they knew, this chance of fate between the kids would evidently change their lives forever. The sound of the boy’s crying ironically brought comfort to Evelyn and Harun, but they both ruefully knew that they needed to do something to prevent him from festering any evil quintessence from within. And as sounds of Hana’s tiny sobs echoed along, all three of them knew – oh Junaidah bitterly, bitterly knew – if they weren’t careful, this would mean the end of both the children’s lives. END

#OCS #hana #imran #dont mind me just writing some ocs #i got inspired after finishing a malay novel #huehuheuheue SUFFER #oneshot

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fulokis · 6 years

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Running From Time| A Post Star Wars Rebels Fan Fic| Chapter 1

Thrawn sat on a rock staring deep into the camp fire lost in thought when a noise startled him. Looking up he realized that Ezra Bridger had fallen asleep. Was he really zoned out that long? He decided that Ezra fell asleep quickly. It startled how comfortable Ezra was now. It had taken him years to even sleep soundly with Thrawn around, the kid was constantly paranoid that Thrawn would stab him in the back (or shoot him in the back again). Thrawn knew better than to do that to his only source of company. And as much as Thrawn disliked to admit, he himself was getting older and less capable. He knew that he had at least 70 more years to live, but in these conditions it was hard to tell when death would come.

Thrawn was still disoriented from his thoughts. Usually he was focused, listening for any animals in the bushes, plotting the days journey, or sketching something. But tonight was it was hard for him to stay focused on what was around him. He took the pieces of the com out and placed them on a flat rock. He stared at them trying to figure out how to fix it, hoping this time would reveal something new that he didn’t see the past 20 years he had been staring at it.

It was almost dawn when Ezra woke up. He turned to see leaning on one hand asleep with the shattered pieces of the com scattered around the area. It was always odd to see the chiss sleeping, but the occurrence was becoming increasingly common and it concerned Ezra. True he didn’t know how much chiss typically sleep. But he knew something was wrong. As much as Ezra hated Thrawn for what he did to Lothal, Thrawn had kept him alive for 20 years, that was worth something at least.

Ezra stood up and stretched taking the hair band out of his hair and combing it out with his fingers. He grabbed the pot that they had salvaged from the Chimera and headed to look for the water, kindling, and maybe some berries if he was lucky. The planet was mostly forest terrain and he recognized where they were which meant after another decade they were returning to the Chimera likely to stay for a little longer than a few days. If they would try to go around the massive rock again and look for other life was impossible to tell. 20 years and they hadn’t seen a single sign of other sentient life on the planet.

Ezra returned to camp successfully finding water and kindling, Thrawn was still asleep even though the sun had come up what Ezra guessed at least an hour and a half ago. Strange, Thrawn never slept this long. Ezra had his hesitations about waking up the sleeping chiss. One he didn’t know the last time he had slept. Two he didn’t want to see Thrawn angry, and he hoped he wouldn’t ever have to. After Ezra started the fire and was boiling the water he took another look at the com unit spread around the chiss’s feet. He sat down and closed his eyes. Using the force he took the unit and put it back together piece by piece, when it was together it made a beep like it was receiving something. A garbled voice came through the mangled speaker, “Thr....” Before the being on the other end was able to finish their sentence the com unit made a loud screeching sound, startling both Ezra and Thrawn, before exploding leaving the com unit useless from any use in the future.

Thrawn was still dazed from being awoken, but was still quickly able to figure out what had happened.

“What did you do?!” The noise coming from Thrawn’s mouth was gutteral and animal like. Startled Ezra drew his blaster. Thrawn’s face was filled with pure rage, which was unsettling for Ezra who had never seen him other than the calm demeanor and monotone. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Thrawn launched at Ezra with speed, predicting every self defense mechanism Ezra threw out. Before Ezra realized what was actually happening he was pinned on the ground an arm over his throat and knee on his chest pushing all of the air out of his lungs. Thrawn’s eyes became brighter with his rage. The chiss was stronger than he appeared and was making a low hissing noise. Ezra was trying frantically to say something in his own defense, Thrawn was too strong for him and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I....I...I...” Ezra stammered, Thrawn lifted his grip a bit. “I ... was....trying..to help.”

“I didn’t want help.” Thrawn released Ezra, who started coughing and sputtering for air. Thrawn moved over to where the com pieces fell. Holding them in his hands looking at them solemnly, he sighed. He threw the pieces into the fire watching them burn. He had finally let go... of him. Perhaps it was for the best that Ezra destroyed the com unit, no more obsessing no reason to have his mind off of survival, it had been keeping him from greatness for far too long.

Ezra watched as Thrawn straightened, a new sense of determination on his face. Thrawn started to pack up the camp, with a gleam in his eyes that Ezra hadn’t ever seen. Some how it was more evil and twisted than when they were enemies.

On the walk back to the Chimera Ezra was walking a considerable distance away from Thrawn. Their earlier encounter had made him more on edge than when he was face to face with Vader all those decades ago. Ezra was also still in pain so that slowed his pace. He was starting to feel ill so he sat on a rock next thing he knew the glowing red orbs of his companion were boring directly into his eyes.

Thrawn was so lost in calculations and his plan that he barley noticed Ezra wasn’t with him until he made it to the Chimera. He turned to duck in one of the damaged air locks only to look behind him to see the raven haired jedi was no where in sight. He sighed put down the makeshift satchel of camping materials inside the ship and went off to find Ezra. It took him four hours to find Ezra again. How long had Ezra still been back here right next to the campsite passed out? Thrawn thought about leaving Ezra, let him fend for himself not have to worry about another being to take care of. Leave this enemy, leave this planet, and leave this infernal love behind. To look to the stars and end the rebellion, end conflict, finish what he started and then travel outside of the Galaxy, past his home past the empire and rebellion and past him.

Thrawn checked Ezras pulse with relief he was still alive. Thrawn poured some of the water in Ezras bag on his face. Ezra came to slowly and when he saw Thrawn over him he automatically reached out with the force and sent the chiss into a near by tree. His saphire eyes opened wide and he approached Thrawn carefully.

Extending his hand down Ezra said “We will call it even now.”

“Yes, we shall. As for tonight you should rest, we will finish our journey tomorrow. And perhaps we may get off this planet once and for all.”

“I assume you have a plan?”

“Indeed.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” No response came from Thrawn. Ezra shrugged, “ Well good night, get some sleep please.” Ezra half expecting a witty remark looked over his shoulder to see Thrawn already asleep, snoring softly.

On the Chimera’s hull two figures stood looking up at the sky.

“You know they definitely crashed at least 10 lightyears away, and that comunicator isn’t going to ever work to contact them right?” The young chiss woman spoke softly in Sy Bysti.

The human male chuckled “You know you remind me of him so much sometimes.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why do we do this every night? Hmmm?”

“And there are other times where your worse than everyone else.” He grumbled.

“I heard that! And Im still waiting for an answer.”

“Because I am hopeful our freinds are still alive and are trying to get those suplies to us. And I’m tired of eating the ferrets you keep catching.”

“Like ration packs are better.”

“Better than driving a species to extinction.”

“I see more than a hundred every single night, and they are hard to catch. Im sure they will be fine.”

“Alright fine we will go. And please stay with me this time, I worry when you wander too far.”

“Maybe you should keep up.” A look from the human made her drop the subject. She jumped off the hull of the ship and then used the force to propel her companion to the ground, before heading off into the jungle.

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#thrawn #ezra bridger #post-purgil adventures #20 years later

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evangelene · 7 years

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Just Happened to Be (3)

Summary: Jimin was an asshole, yes. And you were supposed to be nice, meek, and afraid of people like him. But you weren’t; even with a knife at your throat you stayed quiet and unforgiving–and he wasn’t allowed to like it.

Based off this request:

“Anonymous said:So how about bad boy Jimin I mean that’s cool I guess cause I mean who need bad boy jimin right pft not me.”

Usual warnings . This is a drug gang fic so naturally there’s gonna be a lotta shit.

Part One / Part Two / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven

Because Jimin was injured--aka his group was forcing him to stay in bed until he healed--and because he was avoiding Yoongi (he may have missed some deadlines regarding your name and address), he was not supposed to be at the tattoo shop. But Jimin was never good at listening, and his creative bug was being stifled by his stuffy room back at the apartment. He figured if he went late enough at night he could hope to complete part of the pile of sketches he had to do for his clients. So, when his members were out and busy doing other things, Jimin snuck out his window like a runaway teen and walked his wounded ass to the shop.

He was alone there--well, at least he was supposed to be. He didn't bother turning on the actual lights to the shop, instead he worked under the emergency lighting they kept on through the night.

But that solitude changed the instant he heard keys struggle in the front door.

He panicked, diving to the floor to crawl under his desk. Jimin slid his chair in behind him in an attempt to hide himself before he got caught and, as a result, got his ass kicked by one of his hyungs.

It was a good thing that he went that extra mile for hiding too, because the second the footsteps clamored through the front entrance, he heard Yoongi's voice.

There was somewhat of a struggle; he could hear it in the shuffle of footsteps that followed Yoongi's sure lead. The theory was confirmed when Yoongi spoke. "Get inside."

Jimin couldn't yet see the two of them, but he could hear his hyung pushing them deeper into the shop--he could hear the annoyance and the exasperation of both parties. The scuffle led to Yoongi's tattoo station, where, ultimately, a body was pushed into Yoongi's tattooing chair. Then and only then could Jimin spot the person Yoongi had dragged with him.

You.

Something unexplainable tightened in Jimin's chest. He couldn't place where the fear sprang from, or who the worry was aimed towards--and he hated that. He hated everything about this moment, seeing you in his shop with Yoongi's grip on your chin.

"Alright now, you want to tell me why you have our Jiminnie protecting you?" He leaned in, and to Jimin it looked like he was going to kiss you. You looked like you didn't mind.

Jimin's hand touched the floor, keeping him rooted in his hiding spot.

You cocked your head to the side, batting away Yoongi's hand as you furrowed your brows on him.

"Y/N."

Jimin didn't know why it surprised him that his hyung knew your name--you were captive in his tattoo chair after all--but it occurred to Jimin that he'd never called you by your name. Even though he'd known it for a while now, it never occurred to him that he could call you by it; it felt too intimate. And he didn't like how it sounded coming from Yoongi.

It was too...too...flirty? Why would his hyung be interested in a prude like you? No.

There was no way.

Jimin's fingers curled on the linoleum.

"There's n-n-no way."

"But he is, Y/N." Jimin's nails sunk into the soft tile."The stupid idiot was supposed to give me your name and address a week ago--but guess what didn't happen. The brat has been avoiding me the moment I gave him the order to give you up to me."

You sat back into the chair as if it belonged to you. "Y-Y-Y-Y-You don't s-s-sound as m-mad as y-y-you look."

"Of course I'm not mad--I have a hard time being angry with that boy for long. You see it too--he's still just a kid. He's haunted by this life; it was never supposed to find him but some stupid woman brought him into it. He wasn't supposed to get mixed up in this shit."

"N-N-No, but n-n-neither were y-you."

Yoongi let out a bark of a laugh at the ceiling. "Gosh, your eyes haven't changed at all. You're still the same."

What?

Did you--you and Yoongi...did you know Yoongi?

"I'm sur-sur-sur-surprised you re-re-re-remember me. W-W-W-We only ever m-m-m-m-met once."

"Those," Yoongi gestured to your eyes, "are hard to forget. You were too far away for me to notice that night on the street--but when I finally hunted your ass down it all became clear. Of course it was you--of course Jimin found you."

"W-W-Were you l-l-looking for m-me?"

Jimin hated the way you had the beginnings of a sneaky smile, some flash of chemistry between you and his hyung that had him trying not to grind his teeth in his jaw.

"I was hoping we wouldn't find you. You were kept a secret for a reason--but I'm happy it was you out of all the people that boy could have found. I don't want him getting in any deeper than he already is. I want him to get away from us, not closer. That boy has some hope left."

Jimin stared at the back of the chair, momentarily forgetting that you and Yoongi knew each other. This was a moment that Jimin had to soak in; it was rare for Yoongi to admit that he cared. Everyone knew that he did--Yoongi was surprisingly soft--he just had difficulties saying it. Yoongi was a show more than speak kind of guy.

But then reality came rushing back in when you spoke once more and he was back to gripping the linoleum and watching you and Yoongi interact in a way that Jimin couldn't.

"D-D-Don't be too h-h-happy. You kn-kn-know he ha-ha-hates m-me. He's got h-h-hope, w-w-why would y-y-you be h-happy he f-f-f-f-f-found some-some-someone hopeless li-li-like me?"

Yoongi flicked your forehead, causing you to let out a noise of surprise; the smile Jimin's hyung gave you was gentle. It was an emotion that he wasn't used to seeing deliberately shown. "Now I know why hyung kept you a secret--you're surprisingly dense and cute."

There was no blush to your face, but Jimin felt hot. It was warm under his desk, and it just made him angrier.

"If it w-w-w-w-was Jun's inten-inten-inten-intentions to keep me a s-s-secret then h-h-h-he shouldn't have d-d-d-d-done w-what he d-d-did. M-M-M-M-Maybe then h-h-h-h-he'd still be a-a-a-a-alive."

Jun.

Jimin recognized the name instantly--because the man was his hyung as much as he was Yoongi's. Jun was the previous leader of Jimin's gang. He was the leader who killed Taehyung's brother, resulting in Taehyung coming to power. He was the leader who was killed in retaliation a couple years back. He was the leader who Jimin helped to kill Taehyung's brother.

He was the leader that brought a pleading Jimin under his wing to complete mutual vengeance.

But what the hell were you to Jun? You were far too young to be his girlfriend--you were...

"Big brothers want to protect their younger siblings--it's natural. Jun hyung was just upset that he couldn't protect you."

Jimin was trying to connect all of the dots together in his head--but the pieces that he knew wouldn't match up correctly. Parts of the full image were missing; gaping holes in faces and blurred empty spaces where an object in a hand should be. They wouldn't all fit together.

"I know, b-b-b-but we-we-we're not he-he-he-he-here to talk a-a-a-about my b-b-b-br-br-brother, n-n-now a-are we?"

Yoongi's gaze met yours, refusing to drop it as his shoulders fell with a heavy sigh. "Just, promise me that you won't let Jimin fall for you."

You raised one eyebrow at him incredulously, the words flying off of your tongue without even a moment of doubt. "Y-Y-Y-You're worried ab-ab-ab-about the im-im-impossible."

It took Yoongi a moment to respond to that one; to Jimin, it looked like his hyung wanted to thank you and throttle you at the same time.

"Are you stupid?"

There was something in the look that you gave Yoongi that felt like an iron bar--a shard of pain that you had not yet shaken from you. It was as if you'd told these words to a thousand different people.

"Y-y-y-y-you know wh-wh-what ha-ha-happened. No one w-w-w-will f-f-fall for a g-g-girl like me."

"It's going to blindside the both of you, you know that? You know what's going to happen--you're going to go missing. And then Jimin will risk his ass to go looking for you, but he won't know why he's doing it because he's as much of an idiot as you are. Or maybe you're going to die and then your name can be used as a pawn for Taehyung to torture Jimin with. That boy is falling for you--is this what you want?"

Liar.

Jimin wanted to scream that Yoongi was wrong; he wanted to bust out like the idiot he was and list the thousands of reasons he hated you.

But he stayed, and, in his mind, the memory of you smiling sunlight into a dark room resurfaced.

"N-N-N-None of th-that will ha-ha-ha-happen, b-b-b-be-be-bec-because it's im-im-impossible."

"No one loves a girl with scars, Jimin." Sooyoung chuckled, but there was never any humor in her laughs; she'd lost that spark a long time ago. "So don't let me get any, okay?"

Yoongi sighed, everything in him draining with exhaustion. "If you say so." His eyes sparkled with something warm, hints of the same kind of protection he offered his members glinting in the back of his irises. "But promise me you won't go and fall for him either; I don't want to see you get mixed in with us again. Jun would burst from his grave and kill me if I let anything happen to you under my leadership."

You matched Yoongi's warmth with a small, sad smile. "W-W-We b-b-both know I d-d-don't get a-a-a-a-attached, I-I-I-I-I've been th-th-through eno-eno-enough heartbreak. T-T-T-Trust me i-it w-w-w-won't ha-happen."

There was a moment where the two of you just stared at each other, some unspoken conversation passing between your glances. Jimin hated that he couldn't decipher the words in you or Yoongi's eyes.

Yoongi jerked his chin to the front door. "Get out of here before this place puts a curse on you."

You pushed yourself up out of the chair, gripping the edges of your sweater tighter together as you nodded towards the elder. "Stay s-s-safe, Y-Y-Yoongi."

He gave you a small two fingered salute that passed for a goodbye, seeing you out the door before slowly lumbering back towards his station. He pulled out his desk chair and sat down so his chest was pressed against the back of it before hunkering down to fiddled with one of his sterling rings.

"She's gone. You can come out now, Jimin."

Jimin froze under his desk, and, despite being found out, he did not move. "You knew I was here the whole time?"

Yoongi snorted. "The drawing shit I had Namjoon take you yesterday is back on your desk now. Of course I knew you were here."

Jimin slumped forward, resting his forehead on his knees. There was a long pause, a moment where Jimin was trying to gather the words to the overflowing questions in his head.

"Jun hyung's sister, huh?"

"Yep." Yoongi let the p pop.

Jimin groaned. "But she's so fucking stupid."

"So are you. Unfortunately, I think it's a match made in heaven."

"You're full of shit--you know I hate her guts."

Yoongi laughed, resting his arms on the back of the chair. "Oh believe me, I know."

Jimin couldn't say anything for a long while, he could only sit curled over under his desk with his stupid chair as a useless shield. "You're being too nice; I don't know how to handle it. Normally you would come across here and kick my ass."

"Because life will kick your ass for me soon enough--turns out my warnings were already too late."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Yoongi hooked two fingers, raising an eyebrow at Jimin. "Come on out now and draw. Your hands are shaking--you need to calm yourself."

"I don't like her." Jimin murmured, kicking his chair so he could make enough room to crawl out.

"I know." Yoongi nodded, watching as the younger sat down at his desk and got back to work. "I know."

~.~

Jimin, as soon as he was able to cut out his stitches, left his group's apartment with a switchblade in his pocket. He'd stewed at his place for weeks, having reoccurring dreams of Taehyung's horrible grin as he held his bloody knife--images of his face morphing into yours as you reached for Jimin's arm to help him up off the asphalt. He kept imagining that your eyebrows were furrowed in worry as you led him to your car; you were the type to worry about others more than yourself, even if they didn't deserve it. It was one of the many things Jimin hated about you, but what he hated most was that you appeared in his subconscious more than you should have.

It was Taehyung's fault. Jimin blamed Taehyung for the dreams; he blamed Taehyung for the memories of Sooyoung that rose in frequency and clouded Jimin's thoughts. He blamed Taehyung for the pain of wounds too deep to even see, for the scar that marked his side and then some. He blamed Taehyung for you being there, being in his line of sight--even though it wasn't his fault, Jimin blamed Taehyung for life colliding him head on with all that was you.

He thumbed the switchblade through the depths of his pocket, stalking down the sidewalk towards that same territory edge that had erupted in all out war just a month before. Jimin tried to be inconspicuous as he walked, but it was difficult considering his tattooed, dyed-orange hair, and scathing glare.

He scanned the street as he approached the territory line, trying to keep an eye out for Taehyung's boys in case they were expecting him. Or maybe they all thought he was dead--he hoped for that one; it'd be much easier to sneak in if he was a ghost in their minds. All in all, Jimin's plan for revenge was stupid, but then again he wasn't really thinking straight. The muddled mess of memories and dreams clouded his thoughts to the point that any chance at intelligence was ruined.

And then, before he could even get close to the territory line, he spotted you.

At first, he thought it was a hallucination--another moment where his mind fused the past with the present--but then you moved, stepping out from an unmarked building to wave to a person closing the door behind you. He knew it was you almost instantly; no one else was crazy enough to wear pants and a turtleneck in the heatstroke week of summer.

His footsteps stuttered and he found himself frozen on his path to vengeance. You continued, unaware of his presence as you started across the street to your car. Jimin wanted nothing more than to let you go--to let you continue to wherever you were headed so he could release his anger in a beating on one of Taehyung's men. Hell, the sight of you made his vision turn red in the hopes that he could make his once friend bleed.

But his mouth had other ideas.

"Idiot! The fuck are you doing here?" He shouted, blowing his cover for reasons he couldn't explain; despite his gut reaction to run in the other direction, he found your bewildered and flustered expression amusing. You spun around, your eyes instantly connecting with his. He didn't know why, but he expected you to run to your car, to flip him off, to escape or, hell, to even glare at him and curse him out with that stutter of yours.

Instead, you jogged towards him, your eyes clouded with worry and nothing else--just like in his imaginations and day dreams of you saving his life. Before he could say anything else, your hands were attacking the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it up in order to eye the progress of his wound. He slapped them away quickly, practically jumping away from you.

"Hey now!" He shouted, chuckling to cover up the way his voice cracked. "If you wanted to get me out of my clothes that badly then why didn't you just say so? There's a nice, cheap hotel just down the street." He winked at you, though there was no redness or fluster to your features. It seemed you were immune to men like him.

Another check on the list of things he hated about you.

You raised one eyebrow at him, rolling your eyes as you clenched your jaw and pointed to his side.

"That's a look, so attractive. How about you let your mouth loll open so you can let out some drool and--"

You smacked him with the dead weight of your purse, your mouth scrunching to the side as you furiously pointed to his recently healed wound.

"I'm fine, Idiot. Its fine--all healed up. See?" He lifted up his shirt enough for you to see his scar, the beginning expanses of abs that used to be there--though they were now buried somewhere under a food baby from his recent, forced bed-rest.

Again, there was no fluster, no chagrin--nothing. Nada. Zilch. No attraction. You just furrowed your brow on him, looking over his shoulder to try to figure out where he came from or what he was doing there. It was as if you were shut off to men--as if you thought that no man could truly see you as a female.

Because you were scarred.

"I'm not here for you, crazy," He murmured. "I'm here for some payback. I gotta go get that fucker for stabbing me." He patted his pocket with the switchblade, his lip curling into a wolf-ish grin that flashed a spike of fear in your eyes.

Almost comically, a ring of white surrounded your irises and your hands snapped out to grab onto his wrists, shaking them with a ferocity that surprised him. Honestly, it was the first time he saw your features dip towards anger, blasting a full blown scowl across your normally blank expression.

"Don't worry, idiot. I'm tougher than I look, you know?" He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes drawing down your heavily clothed form. "Or maybe you're overheating from your prude clothes? Should I take them off with my--"

You reached up to pinch Jimin's ear hard enough that he swore you drew blood; he let out a shout of pain, cupping a hand over his wounded lobe--but he couldn't escape your grasp.

"What the fuck was that for?" He shouted, glaring down at you. "Don't you know that I could kill you if I wanted to, you fucking bitch?!"

You only pursed your lips at him and held your free palm out to him, eyeing his pocket with the switchblade.

"I'll stab it through that fucking hand of yours if you don't let me go. Honey, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

You raised your chin parallel to the ground. "Y-Y-Y-You owe m-m-m-m-m-me," You hissed, your eyes bright with a fire he hated to admit attraction to.

You were the opposite of all things attractive to a man like him.

But what could Jimin say, he was a pyromaniac.

He stared down at you, contemplating murder for the sake of easing his own annoyance; instead he fished the switchblade from his pocket and placed it in your open hand. Your fingers curled around it as you tucked it into your purse, your gaze never leaving his.

"Do you think that's going to stop me from going there? He deserves to get his ass kicked."

"O-On y-y-your own?"

"I've always been on my own."

You rolled your eyes, dropping your chin to incredulously peer up at him through your lashes. "B-B-Bullshit. It's j-j-j-j-just easier t-t-t-t-to s-say that t-then t-to say you-you-you-you've been h-h-hurt b-b-b-by some-some-someone."

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight enough that you let out a noise of pain, your eyes flaring with the beginning sparks of fear. But you didn't nurture that fear, you never let it bloom past a shitty firework that flared out into a dud. He wanted to bruise you, to make you shut up and go away--even if he was the one to call out to you. "Prude." He hissed. "Remember who you're talking to."

You stared at him even though your free hand was desperately trying to pry his fingers from your skin. "J-Jimin; I-I-I am t-t-t-ta-ta-talking to J-J-J-Jimin." It was like a tranquilizer to a charging lion.

"Why are you here?" His voice dropped from an angered snarl to a whisper.

"I-I-I-I-I work h-h-here."

Of course you did. Of course you did.

"Really? Between two warring gang territories? That's mighty stupid of you--but seeing the way your body looks, I figure you've been stupid once or twice before."

"I-I-I know." You ignored his latter part, something in your eyes flattening as he brought up unbidden memories from the depths. Even that crack of the whip wasn't enough to make you hate his guts.

"You know?" He threw his head back with wild laughter when you only nodded. "Shit bitch, why the hell you still here? You could have been killed long before your ass ever strolled into my shop. Fuck--here I was almost feeling sorry for you and--"

It took a lot of effort, but you managed to break past your stutter to interrupt him. "I--I want to b-b-be he-he-here!" You shouted, trying your damnest to rip your wrist free from his grip--but he wasn't letting go until he was satisfied with the conversation. And you being so stubborn just made him want to hurt you so you would leave and never look back.

Why was he the one to call out to you?

"Why? That's fucking stupid."

You nodded. "I-I-I'm aw-aw-awa-aware. Bu-bu-but I wo-wo-wouldn't change wh-wh-what I d-do for any-any-anything."

He didn't ask you what you do, but his gaze must have questioned you for him because you were answering, reaching with your free hand to pull out a photo from your purse. You handed it to him with one of those blooming smiles that made the sun come out from the clouds. He hated those smiles; there wasn't a damn thing about you that he didn't hate--he swore it to himself. "I-I-I w-w-work with ch-ch-chil-children in sit-si-situations like y-y-yo-yours. I-I-I try t-to give th-th-them an-an-an-an-another option. I h-h-h-hate to see pe-pe-people ruin the-their l-l-l-l-lives over th-th-this."

In the image you were crouched into a pose with two young boys, one hugging you while the other held the camera with a bright smile on his face. It was obvious that they were children who entered the hidden world far younger than Jimin did--you could see it on their faces that they had seen some shit. But you, they clung to you like you were an adoptive mother--the first friend in a world of adults that only ever saw them as a problem. They clung to you like you cured them from a cancer that they'd been fighting the moment they were born.

It sickened him.

"So I'm just another project to you then? Is that why you saved me?"

You fervently shook your head. "I-I-I-I only he-he-help th-those that w-w-want it."

"Then why me? I want nothing from you other than your friend's number and a great high--and only one of those you can help me with."

You chuckled, but it translated humorless on your face. "I-I-I hoped."

"Hope only brings you heartache and death--and not in that order."

"I kn-know."

He let go of you, watching you rub your reddened wrist. You gave him the softest nod before turning your back to him, starting to your car once more.

"Idiot!" He shouted to you, surprised that you still gave him another chance when you turned over your shoulder to stare back at him.

"Good people, surrounded by bad, die fast. You know that?" She sighed, her eyes glistening with tears despite the blood on her face. " Jimin, don't let me taint you."

"What's your friend's number?" He dug his nails into his palm, smirking at you even as you shot him a harsh glare and threw open your car door.

~.~

Jimin had planned to cut things off at the root--removing himself from the situation before it escalated. He had planned to never see you again; he avoided every possible path that may cross with yours. But as usual, life kept throwing you in his face and, since he was alone, he stopped fighting it for the moment.

He was working inside a coffee shop next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed him to people watch. It was the only other place besides the tattoo shop that meshed well with his creativity. And since his members were currently in that day, he decided that some solitude at the cafe would be a better atmosphere for him.

But then you walked by the fucking window, crossing the street towards a nearby park. And you weren't alone.

It was a teenager, not a child, and she wasn't from the pictures Jimin remembered. Despite that, it was evident that she was in deep with Jimin's world based solely on how she held herself: like she was both fearless and afraid of everything at the same time. She flinched anytime a person came near her--or even near you. But you were calm, it was part of that aura of yours that broke past barriers; you would smile down at her, smooth out her hair and suddenly the girl was giving you half-smiles, the tension in her shoulders releasing. You held your hand out to her and she took it, letting you lead her deeper into the park. As if to taunt Jimin, life kept you just within his view, the rays of your smile radiating heat through the window.

Jimin didn't remember picking up his pen, but suddenly he was staring at his sketchpad, watching the lines form without any aid from his mind. It was the beginnings of losing himself in his artwork, resulting in the clock swirling faster, the time shifting shadows on the sidewalk and yet, you were still in his line of sight. You were still there.

He didn't see nor feel the person behind him--he only became aware of their presence when they finally decided to speak.

"That's beautiful."

Jimin jolted from his art possession, his hands flying out to grab his drawing pad and reel it into his chest. He spun around like a wild man, his eyes connecting up with Yoorin's. She seemed almost sad as she looked down on him and his drawing.

Jimin suddenly forgot how to use language and could only stare up at her in confusion.

"You know," she said, "when I saw you here, I wanted to come yelling and screaming; I wanted to slam you against a wall and smack you until your pretty face was messed up. But then...then you just freaking sit there and draw some amazing shit like that?" She sighed, walking around the table to sit herself down in the empty seat across from him. She held her hands flat out on the table, her eyebrows raised. "May I?"

He slowly unfurled himself, handing her his sketchpad; it was too late after all--she'd already seen it. Now he could only wait and watch as her eyes roamed it.

"Where is it going to go?"

"Hm?" He found his foot tapped uncontrollably as his eyes tried to focus anywhere but out the window. You were sure to be there.

She raised an eyebrow at him, her eyes never leaving his face. "It's for a tattoo, right?"

Jimin opened his mouth, closed it--then repeated it once more until finally all he could do was stare at her.

Yoorin sighed, cocking her head to the side with a chuckle. "Even if it's not a tattoo it should be. This is gorgeous." She stared back at the drawing pad, running her fingers over the lines of the wings at if she could feel them etched into someone's skin. "Y/N--this is Y/N, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "She'd love this."

"It's not--"

She dropped the pad to the table, her gaze incredulous. It was only when his drawing was back in his line of sight that Jimin could finally see the full picture.

It was you. There were no excuses to be found in the paper, nor in the pen marks that were hurried and purposeful--it was you. The woman pictured was just a shadowed silhouette looking over her shoulder--only the shape of hair and flecks of a smile and long, dark eyelashes could be distinguished other than the lines of her body. But what was remarkable about her was the way the flaming wings on her back stretched past her arm-span and lit up those few subtle features that made her you.

He found himself staring out the window, his eyes searching for you until they connected with your back as you ran after the girl who was laughing, throwing remarks over her shoulder that had you pausing to chuckle through heaving breaths. "She..." He swallowed. "Those scars...they're burn scars, right?"

Yoorin groaned to the gods of the ceiling. "Why can't you just be a real asshat? Why can't you just do this one thing and make me truly hate your fucking guts?"

Jimin couldn't look away from you. "I'm assuming you're here because she told you."

"That she saved your ass?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. No, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because she forced you to give up your switchblade and you let her. You let a girl who went calling her best friend in a panic because she didn't know what to do with a knife take it from you. You lost your blade to a girl who literally goes into a panic attack when she forgets to turn her phone off during a movie."

"Great. Yep. I did. What of it?"

"Do you like, Y/N?" It was like the crack of a whip, a pipe fallen from the sky that pierced straight through his chest.

Jimin's lip curled instinctively as his head snapped away from the window, his glare fixating on her. "Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that?"

Yoorin was unfazed by his sudden anger. "You should be thankful I'm even asking, I can see the answer in your face but I don't want to accept it. Do you like, Y/N?"

Jimin stared at her for one, long, hard moment before ripping his drawing pad from her grip. "I can't, so I don't."

"You're not good enough for her."

"I'm aware."

She cocked her head at him, rolling her tongue along her teeth. "What is with you? What happened to the bad boy that curses and makes women tremble in their shoes? What happened to the boy that beats the fuck out of anyone who gets in his way?"

"He was interrupted in the middle of drawing and has yet to fully resurface." Jimin snapped. "But if you want to bring him to the forefront just continue being annoying bitch, your looks are smokin' but they're not enough to stop me from putting a fork through your eye."

"Ah, there is he is." Yoorin chuckled.

"Why are you here?"

Yoorin tucked her hair behind her ears, as if she was prepping herself for the real blow that he already knew was coming.

"I wanted to tell you to stay away from her; I wanted to know if you like her or not because I need to know if I'll have to beat the shit out of you."

Jimin snorted, smirking at her. "Try me, sweet cheeks."

"I've got acrylics and I'm not afraid to break 'em in your skin." She flipped him off with one taloned finger.

"I like it rough," he winked.

"You know it's so much less attractive knowing your goo-goo eyed over my best friend."

"I am--"

"Shut up." Yoorin cut him off. "Just shut up because I want to talk because it makes me feel better and I really need that right now. The fact that you like her makes me absolutely sick--because you're going to get her killed. That girl...god that girl--you know, the craziest thing she has ever done is take off her seatbelt before the car was completely stopped and parked. I have always been the one to drag her into shit--this time...this time I will not let a fucking belly button piercing be the reason that she gets hurt. You are not allowed to pursue her--you understand?" She shook her head to clear her own memory demons before resetting her gaze on Jimin. "Tell me that you don't like her. Tell me that you won't show her any nice sides of yourself--make her...tell me that you'll make her believe that you don't like her. Tell me that you won't let yourself like her."

"I don't give a shit about that fucking prude." But he hated the way that even he couldn't believe his own words.

Yoorin let out a humorless laugh. "You're fooling no one." She curled her hands on the table, staring at them instead; it seemed easier to cope if she didn't have to look at the monster. It was why Jimin hated mirrors. "Just...just promise me that even if you don't like her--even if your bullshit act is true and especially if it was false...don't let her die. Don't let my best friend get to the point where I don't know if I can bring her back. I-I can't see her like that again. I can't." Her voice cracked and in that moment, Jimin thought he was going to watch stone cry. You and Yoorin seemed like you were cut from the same cloth despite it all, you handled your emotions well--or at least bottled them neatly.

Jimin threw his head back, craning his stare to the ceiling. "You know I can't do that--in my line of business, you're asking for the impossible.

"I know," Yoorin murmured, "But humor me."

His fingers curled on his drawing pad. "I promise."

Yoorin smiled at him but it wasn't the same kind of warmth that yours had, there was no flip or drop to his stomach.

And he hated that; he wanted her smile to blow him farther away from you.

But it couldn't even compare.

"You're not as much of a douche as you make yourself out to be, you know that?"

"You know Jimin? There is no such thing as a pure person, not even you. They all die too quickly."

"No." He grunted. "I am an asshole--otherwise I would be dead."

~.~

Jimin had promised himself that he was only there to get his blade back, but by now he'd grown too smart to fool himself anymore. Before you waltzed into his shop in all of your prude glory, he could only remember those horrible days with Sooyoung--the pain of loving, losing, loving and losing over and over again until one of the two was dead.

But Sooyoung was at least a part of his world; she knew what she was getting into.

He threw his head back to lean against the brick, staring up at the sky to cloud-watch in hopes that it would make the time go by faster. He'd never really had a steady job aside from the tattoo/drug business, so he wasn't really sure what time you would get out of work--he just knew he wanted to be there when you did.

It must have come sooner than he thought, because suddenly he was startled by the loud bang of metal on brick and you were walking out without ever looking over your shoulder; it reminded him further of the fact that he shouldn't have been there. That you shouldn't have been there.

But he called out anyways. "Hey, idiot! You know, on these streets, you should really fucking look over your shoulder before casually walking to your car."

You whirled around; a beginning hint of a smile already on your face as if you knew it was him by just the sound of his voice. Your eyes were already scanning him for any injuries, not even questioning why he was here again. And god did they glitter--there was so much life inside of your eyes, so much in them that he never saw in Sooyoung's.

He couldn't think it was ugly.

He groaned, shaking his head at you. "Why the hell do you worry about other people so much?"

You shrugged, still giving him a closed mouth smile as you waited for him to explain why he was there. He hated that he could see the question on your face without you ever saying a word. He wanted to tease you, to squeeze and break and make you hate him, but at the same time he wanted you right before him. He wanted to be able to see your face when he felt like it.

That fact disgusted him.

"Give me my blade back."

"No." You cocked your head at him as if to say, 'that all?'

"Wow, not even a stutter?" He chuckled, trying to find the salt to kick into your wounds. "I'm surprised."

Your smile dropped but it was still in your gaze. "F-F-F-F-Fuck you."

"Nah, I don't want you to. You know who would be real great though? That Yoorin friend of yours that hunted my ass down the other day. God, you know she's just so--"

Your face dropped into annoyance and you reached up to pinch his nose, causing his voice to go squeaky before it cut off completely. He grabbed your wrists, holding them out away from him, resulting in your face being brought closer to his. "Goddamnit woman!" He shouted.

But you were giggling and god he thought it was too cute.

Cute.

Yes, you the goddamn prude were cute.

And that scared him, because wolves should never fall for the sheep they eat.

"You stupid bitch!"

"D-D-D-Dumbass."

"Oh go fuck off, whore."

"Mo-mother fu-fu-fucker."

"Stupid hoe."

"F-f-fuckboy."

It was stupid and childish and he didn't remember who started first, but suddenly you were both laughing and he had to let go of you before he did something he regretted. You folded over in half, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes from the force of your laughter.

"Us bad people, we taint the good, Jimin. Get away from me before it's too late."

"I really fucking hate you, you know that?" He snorted as you wiped the giggle tears from your eyes.

You only nodded up at him, bubbles of laughter still escaping your lips every now and then. "Th-that's f-fine."

There was a lot about you that he hated; but he hated your self-pity most. He hated the fact that you were fine being mistreated as if you didn't realized the effect you had on people.

And suddenly, he was angry--and it was fine by him because he needed to be angry with you. He needed to save you and to save you he had to make you hate him.

That would make you leave, right? That would make all the warnings he was given pan out correctly--neither of you would be hurt by him breaking you. It was a sweet hope, one that he thought he wasn't capable of anymore.

"How the hell is that fine? How are you just fine with being treated like shit? Are you fucking stupid?"

"M-m-maybe."

He wanted to make you eat those words, he wanted to wrap his hands around your throat and break what bones he could. He wanted to, he wanted to do it so badly and if it was anyone else, he could have.

But you were smiling.

"It's going to get you killed. Us, this place--these people that you surround yourself with--are all going to kill you. Why can't you see that?"

"Wh-wh-wh-why d-d-do you c-c-care?"

"Why don't you?"

You stared up at him so hopeless and lost that he wanted to erase that look from your face and replace it with your smile.

And he hated that he found himself wanting to protect that part of you.

He shook his head, throwing his hands up in the air as he backed away from you. "You're right, I don't care." His legs felt like running, but his body wouldn't let them. Instead he only turned and started towards his apartment.

That was, until you shouted to his back and stopped him in his tracks. "J-J-J-Jimin!! T-T-T-Thank you."

"For what?" He curled his lip at you over his shoulder, staring at you like you were absolutely crazy.

"B-B-B-B-Being you."

"You're fucking stupid."

You only smiled. "Y-Y-Y-Y-You too."

Jimin turned away from you for good this time, shaking his head as he wiped a hand down his face--part in exasperation, part in attempt to hide the redness to his face.

"Don't fall in love with me, Jimin." She whispered as she peppered kisses from his bellybutton up to his collar bone. "I'll just break your fucking heart."

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ikagrp · 5 years

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Welcome, Tee! You’ve been accepted as your first choice of Alycia Debnam Carey as Sofia Monroe. Please send in your account within the next 24 hours.

Also, please follow these tags: ikag starter, Ikag social, ikaghh, ikag important, ikag task, ikagfollow, ikagunfollow and ikag event

[ OOC INFORMATION ]

NAME / PRONOUNS | AGE | TIMEZONE

hi hi henlo it’s me , ya gal :)) tee, she/her, twenty-one, aest !

YOUR ACTIVITY

things have FINALLY calmed down irl so !!! i’ll have lots more time ! :) i’ll probably be able to get online a few hours a day, and i’m always around on IMs to chat / plot !!!

ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE

wow SO long at this point?? maybe six years !

[ IC INFORMATION ]

WHO ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE SHOW?

Please keep this layout for us. So that it is easier for us to update everything.

FACECLAIM: alycia debnam carey

SECONDARY: i don’t have anyone in mind but ! i’d be happy to rework her a lil if alycia is taken ! <3

NAME: sofia monroe

AGE: twenty-three

BIRTHDAY: december 13th, 1995.

OCCUPATION: artist.

HOMETOWN: sylva, north carolina

PETS: n/a!!

BIOGRAPHY

tw: religion, homophobia, abuse, mental illness, self-harm.

sofia comes from humble beginnings. somewhere in the middle of six children, their house was full - full of people, full of chaos, full of rage. her father was a big man, both in the literal and figurative sense. he could captivate a room when he spoke, a preacher by trade. everyone in thier small, bustling town she grew up in knew her father by name - and he was highly regarded in their community. but nobody knew the truth. because the monroe’s family home, hidden away just outside of town, was the furthest thing from heavenly.

and sofia always did her best. to be a good little christian girl - to be the exact kind of woman her parents wanted her to be. quiet, obedient, meek. and for a while, that’s exactly what she was. in her younger years, she did exactly what she was told; tried to be the least of her parent’s worries, and to avoid her father’s dangerous backhand. sofia became a one woman disappearing act, only materialising when she was demanded to, and then vanishing just as quickly as she came. it was easier that way - safer. her loneliness as a child drove her to more artist pursuits. sofia always loved piano, but the sound of it would often infuriate her father, so she rarely dared to play. where she found her one true love, though, was in art. she would spend hours sketching, and playing around with colour. saved up her pocket money to buy watercolour sets and paint brushes. it was the only thing nobody could take from her - this talent, this creativity of hers. despite all she had been through, sofia still saw colour in everything.

but oh - the growing pains of youth. as she bloomed into a young woman, sofia found herself become harder and harder to contain. once obedient, she eventually became defiant in the face of her father and all he believed. ripped the ribbons from her hair, traded her bible for art history books. sofia was done being compliant. and oh, she knew she would suffer for it. she knew every time she raised her voice in her father’s opposition, it would end in a bruised cheek she’d be forced to cover in the morning. but she didn’t care. sofia was done being everything they wanted her to be. but there was only one problem: the girl had become so good at disappearing, she couldn’t remember who she was to begin with.

sofia became erratic. she started sneaking out, drinking, smoking, sleeping with men far older than her. she was fifteen years old and on fire. a darkness slowly began to creep in, although it felt to sofia like it had been there all along. she started failing all her classes, blowing off her friends (of which there were few), and getting into all sorts of other trouble. a school psychologist diagnosed her with manic depressive disorder - bipolar, as she would later come to understand it. they offered her pills, but sofia refused to take them. and her parents? well, for the most part, they tried to actively ignore their daughter’s histrionics - but once people around town started talking? it was impossible for them not to acknowledge it. so, they shipped her away to boarding school across the country. the furthest place they could imagine: new york. so, sofia packed her bags, and off she went. and perhaps she should have been excited, being able to get herself so far away from her family. but she didn’t feel anything anymore. not a damn thing.

it was a whole new world, for sofia. she’d never left north carolina, and new york felt like a different planet. and her school? a private, all-girls anglican boarding school for trouble youth. nothing much scared sofia anymore, but the idea of it was daunting. strict housemothers promised her parents the school would turn sofia into a proper, upstanding young lady. but once she got there? for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged somewhere. she finally found her place, amongst all the other misfits. and for all her failings - her sarcasm, anti-social tendencies, and dark glances - as withdrawn as she was, sofia made fast friends. one of which, was a girl named lara. lara was everything sofia wasn’t: confident, outgoing, charming. but the pair just fit. it was like sofia had known her her whole life, or at least, she wished she had. they spent their every hour together, both night and day. and for the first time in a long time, sofia could feel again. still numb, but now aware of what she was fighting for. she actually wanted to get better. flourishing, creatively as well. her art finally getting the recognition it deserved, and her grades picking up. she had her down days, of course, but for once? sofia found herself looking forward to her tomorrows.

but there was a problem. a big one. sofia was in love. she was in love, with her best friend, lara. the girl was everywhere: in the photos on her wall, in the pages of her art journals between pressed flowers, in her dreams. but sofia was convinced, she knew the girl could’ve never felt the same. hell, she hoped lara didn’t like her back. that way, sofia could simply live her entire life pinning over her, never crossing that line. because deep down, even though she would constantly insist she thought religion was ‘bullshit’, she was still afraid. still that little girl, scared of going to hell. and she knew, at least according to her father, that being gay was an unforgivable sin. she regressed back into herself again, doing her best to avoid lara all she could. but she couldn’t leave the girl alone. loving her was the only thing that made sofia feel alive. and she kept the secretly closely guarded, until one night, she slipped. after stealing a bottle of sacramental wine from their chapel’s tabernacle, the pair snuck out to drink on the roof. and under the moonlight, the confession spilled from drunken lips. and by some miracle, sofia’s feelings were reciprocated. and that? that was just about as close to god as she had ever felt.

her relationship with lara was kept a closely guarded secret. they both knew what was at stake: expulsion, rejection from their family - even their friends would surely turn their backs on them. but sofia was over the moon, despite all that. even if she had to keep it a secret, what the had was real. the only person she ever dared tell was her psychiatrist, and even then, it wasn’t until she and lara had been dating for six months. because surely, he could be trusted - right? he was a doctor, he had to keep her secret. but he didn’t. the next day, sofia and lara were both pulled into the principal’s office, and asked point blank whether or not the allegations were true. sofia told the truth. but lara? lara lied. she denied her and sofia had ever been together - insisted that sofia’s feelings were one sided. sofia was outraged, betrayed. but more than anything? she was heartbroken. she loved lara with every ounce of her being - would’ve done anything for her. clearly, lara didn’t feel the same way. or maybe she did, and she was just too afraid to admit it. in the end, it didn’t matter. sofia’s family was informed, and she was forced packed her things and head back to sylva.

the following months were the worst of sofia’s life. with only four months left until graduation, her parents enrolled her in public school. a different school that her siblings, naturally. her father wanted as much distance between sofia and the rest of the family as possible. and oh, her father. his abuse grew even more terrifying that she ever could’ve imagined. her arms still carry the wounds of those few months, in the forms of cigarette burns, surgical scars from a broken arm, and her own self-harm. sofia counted down the days until her graduation, after which she had plotted an escape. found work as a waitress at some diner, picked her father’s pockets after he would pass out drunk on the couch. and her nights were spent writing letters, to lara. lara, who she was still so painfully in love with. but she never heard back, not once. meanwhile, her mental health had plummeted. without access to mental health professionals, sofia went undiagnosed, but was now undoubtably suffering from both depression, and ptsd, in addition to her bipolar. but still, she hung on. at a certain point? sofia kept on living out of spite, more than anything else. and that was a good a reason as any, she figured.

finally, after a painstaking few months, graduation rolled around. sofia didn’t even attend, although made sure to pick up her certificate, before she disappeared. if nothing else, she had that. and she didn’t have much else, honestly. a few hundred dollars, the clothes on her back, and a few precious keepsakes. and with that, she vanished. into the night, without even leaving a note. they didn’t deserve that - none of them. and sofia knew: when her parents and her siblings found her gone, they would rejoice. seventeen years old, she set her sights on the only place in the world that had ever made her happy: new york.

her first few weeks in the city were the toughest. she slept rough for a while, although did her best to keep up appearances while desperately searching for work. eventually, she found somewhere willing to hire her as a waitress. it wasn’t much - hardly even a living wage - but it was something. and sofia did her best to earn her keep, a hard worker. moving into a small room in a share house downtown, she finally had a roof over her head again. she didn’t even have a bed, but hey! all in good time. despite her misery, sofia found herself clawing for those little moments of joy again. she managed to save up a little money, make a few friends - and hell, if nothing else, she always had her art. she still carried that sadness with her, but over time, she found it easier to ignore. or maybe she was just getting used to it. well, most days, anyway. what she really needed? well, she needed a doctor. but that cost money, and her pride. plus, after what happened last time? she was terrified. even coming out to her closest, most open-minded friends was a daunting task. but eventually, after a long, long time, she stopped being afraid of the word ‘lesbian’.

and new york was full of beautiful women - and sofia? well, she had unlimited opportunities to take advantage of that fact. but she was still so afraid. terrified of getting hurt all over again - of being betrayed by someone she trusted so intimately. it almost killed her last time, after all. so kept her distance, for the most part. the furthest her ‘relationships’ ever went were a few drunken hookups, followed by radio silence on sofia’s behalf. and it’s not like she wanted to break things off so soon, but she couldn’t help herself. it was the only self-defence mechanism she had; the only thing that guaranteed she’d never get her heart broken again.

her five years in new york passed in such a blur, sofia struggled to believe it. after taking on a second waitressing job, she managed to save up enough to move into a slightly bigger place with a few friends - with furniture this time, which was a win. and still, all her free time went to art. most days, it was the only thing that eased her pain. mental illness still plagued the young brunette, no doubt. by now, she thought of it as an old friend. and oh, she hides her pain fantastically. masks her insecurity with false bravado and heavy sarcasm, so convincingly you’d scarcely second guess her. in an attempt to detach herself from her own pain she can come off as cold, occasionally. but the truth is? sofia is softer than she’d ever like to admit. more tender than her poor, poor heart knows how to handle. she cares desperately for her friends, and she’s endlessly loyal to the people that matter. but still, sofia can’t stop sabotaging herself, over and over again. ruining her own chances at love, and happiness, and success. but she’s desperate to change her ways, and maybe (just maybe), a fresh start in london will finally turn her around.

RELATIONSHIPS

n/a ! but i’m super down for connections :)

FOR RETURNING CHARACTERS ONLY

n/a!!

ANYTHING ELSE

aa i was going to bring maeve back, but my muse for her is dead af at the moment so!!! here’s my new babey ! ! love u gaLS sm <3<3

#ikagaccepted #submission

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