#idk how people closer to the stage dealed with it tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddaenggtan · 5 years

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black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG, some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it.

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway.

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience.

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain.

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands.

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more."

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet.

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring.

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected.

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough.

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago.

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you.

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better.

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home.

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from.

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing.

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering.

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas.

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd.

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal.

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault.

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name?

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do.

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why.

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success.

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts.

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point.

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process.

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing."

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar.

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks.

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you."

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered.

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space.

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat.

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him.

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive.

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already.

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you.

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles.

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows.

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off .

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse.

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think.

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own.

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want.

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way.

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear .

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you.

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are.

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them.

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you.

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself.

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all.

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long.

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar.

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe.

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off."

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws.

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?"

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper.

"You are going to wish that you could die."

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it.

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body.

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight.

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats.

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have.

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages.

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself.

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom.

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns.

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.”

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs.

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says.

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them.

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you.

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers.

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out.

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues.

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest.

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head.

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is:

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead.

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway.

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer.

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you.

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.”

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal.

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference.

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is.

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new.

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will.

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore.

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that.

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you.

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings.

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment.

Someone says your name and you swing.

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor.

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway.

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to.

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building.

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too.

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you.

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love.

If you can love.

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed.

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself.

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is.

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there.

Until the night when it’s not.

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win.

You would take it back if you could.

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster.

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal.

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them.

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive.

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips.

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again.

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly.

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you.

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you.

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist.

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair.

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out.

“I didn’t-”

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have.

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking.

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her.

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough.

It’s never enough.

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan.

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster.

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing.

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it.

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips.

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with.

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go.

Frustrated, you pull back.

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown.

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress.

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees.

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh.

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free."

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath.

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat.

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve."

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits?

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again.

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time.

Not with Taehyung.

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him.

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating.

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could.

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up."

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind.

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been.

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately.

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you .

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you.

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder.

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come.

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.”

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for.

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose.

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena.

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake.

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs.

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have.

He’ll learn.

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it.

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face.

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes.

The giant swings.

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bunnykass · 3 years

Text

INARIZAKI AS FEELING IVE HAD WITH GUYS IN HIGH SCHOOL

this was supposed to be funny but became very reflective and sorta emotional for me. therapeutic tho😌

TW: mentions of underage n*des, cursing, grammar and spell errors

KITA - the senior in my law class freshman year.

He was country, would wear cowboy boots to class and levi’s (i live in texas). He was a eagle scout. very sweet boy. always brought coffee in those cups to class,and he drove a range rover. i’d share sunflower seeds with him all the time and id make fun of him cause instead of breaking the shell and eating the inside, he’d just eat the shit whole. but like i said he was 18 and I was 14. more of crush we never really did anything, one time though he did argue with me on snapchat about immigration and the annexation of hawaii. He had a brother who was a freshman, and in the beginning of the second seamstress I would flirt with him but again me and never did anything.

OMINI - my freshman english teacher

(tw mentions of sexual assault, grooming, teacher-student relationship)

LMAOO. i had just gotten really into lolita (gross🤮) and so I would literally talk to older guys on the internet (one time i met up with marine even though I was like 15) ANYWAY, so when I started his class i was like damn we about to have a ezra and aria shit. he was super nice to “pretty girls” and “pretty boys” what I mean by that if you weren’t the beauty standard, he was kinda a dick to you. one time he pissed me off though cause he lost a assignment, made me re-do it but only gave me a 70, and i lost interest in him after that. he also accused me of defamation of character because i found his mugshot and was showing everyone.btw he was accused of SEXUAL ASSUALT??? but apparently the mugshot was fake or wasn’t him i don’t remember. he never counted me late or absent tho

ARAN - my best friend

been friends with this kid sense 8th grade. He was in love with this girl though that was leading him on all though out middle school but i really had a crush on him by the time high school started he had gotten over her. when we were freshmen’s he told the whole football team I was a whore cause i wouldn’t send him nudes (i know this sounds bad but i promise it wasn’t plus this was 3-4 years ago) so we didn’t talk to each other till summer going into sophomore year. me and him are still friends and we literally hang out almost every weekend, i love him and he’s loves me. he’s very thing i’d want in a boyfriend but because we’ve been friends for so long doing intimate things with each other like sex seems weird. While we both wish we could be in a relationship we both realstically know it wouldn’t work :(. <3

GINJIMA - my freshmen boyfriend

had fallen in love with me when like school started but like my best friend aran said, i was whoreing’ (not really tho cause i’m still a virgin) so when he asked me to homecoming I was like no. but eventually through out the school year me and him got closer we had like 3 classes together, 2 of them were back to back so we were jus cute like that. my first legit relationship, he was nerdy as hell and the biggest fucking dork. my freshmen year I was what the yt would call a hot cheeto girl and i weighed a lot more back then and he was 6’2-skinny white boy so we fucking looked like glora and melman from madagascar. were like discord moderator and daddy’s kitten shit. he was funny but he was really mean to me and because i was very insecure at the time i lacked setting boundary’s so i’d just take it. he also bought me a roku which i still have today, he was always buying me shit, and i taught him how to take dick pics. he was the first guy that didn’t just like me for my fat tits but i felt like the only way i could keep him around was by oversexualizing myself which ultimate let to him breaking up with me :( honestly no hard feelings though we were both like 15. him an his current girlfriend are so cute, and me and him are cool.

this is a conversation we had a few weeks ago.

SUNA - my yubo boys

my take away from being in highschool is guys do not give a shit about what you look like or how you’re built, unless they’re insecure, and also self-worth. I got on yubo my sophomore year and had it till my junior year. if you don’t know what yubo is its essentially a teen dating app. now i never went to meet these guys irl i have friends who did... and i just want to stay ted bundy would’ve had a field day with these hoes but would engage in online sexting. which ig is illegals cause i was still under 18. at this point in my life i was just so insecure and seeking male validation that i was throwing ass for people over the internet to people i would never meet. this isn’t one person either this is a collective of i don’t even know how many boys. i feel sick thinking about this but i cant take it back and i just have to encourage my sister and potentially future daughters about this.

Miya twins - my tower moments

these two, like the miya twins are very similare but different. I consider them both tower moments because after them two i change completely how i viewed myself and life. if you aren’t familer with tarot the tower card represents sudden and necessary changes usually the situation tends to me negatives and the outcome following is good. these two are also my most recent compared to the other and i’m still dealing with them today which is why i wanted to give a lil intro. idk if yall believe in astrology but those two have gemini in there big 3 and idk i feel like that has a lot to do with our situationship

OSAMU- my theater teachers son

so technically majority of our relationship was middle school but it carried into high school.he was so mean to me up until 8th grade like i said he was my theater teachers son, and he hated her class. at that time his family had so many issues and i think he didn’t have a outlet. my brother had died around the same time so i too was going through shit. while our issues weren’t the same he definitely confined in me a lot and trusted me with so many things, i don’t think a boy/guy ever just laid everything on me like that and it wasn’t in a “be my therapist” kinda way. he fucked up though, we were in musical theater behind the stage in a closet. his mom was just a couple feet away in the audiences teaching class. me and him were talking per usual, and without a warning he put his tongue down in my mouth. and tried putting his hand down my bra. i was so fucking scared i had never been touched like that. it was my first kiss and i didn’t even tell him he could do that to me. i obviously stopped taking to him after that until the summer going into freshman year when we started sending nudes back snd forth. i don’t like to blame people for my problems but i think i began to hyper sexualize myself because of him. when i wouldn’t send him shit he’d block me, ive finally outgrown him as i now my self worth know occasionally i’ll unblock him and hang out with him for fun but it’s nothing serious. he’s stuck on me like tic though and always bring up the fact he kissed me once in 8th grade 🙄

ATSUMU - my “twinflame”

he was a year older then me and i met him on snap chat that should’ve been a red flag. we started by sending nudes but eventually we started to develop feelings however as soon as things got serious he’d pull out. when his relations with other girls wouldn’t work out he’d always come back to me during that time together he’d love bomb me. take me on dates make out with each other in front of hobby lobbies on sunday, my happiness started to depend on if he talked to me or not and this went on forever. by the time quaratine happened he blocked me because he got a girlfriend? idk if that’s why he blocked me but i assumed that eventually he unblocked me because pussy that good. i gave this man so much power over my life that when i took it back i truly learned by self worth. i will never tell this man this but because of all the shit he pulled on me i’m actually confident. i don’t regret meeting him. occasionally he does try to pull his shit on me and i play along with him. i think the reason i can’t let my gemini boys go is because i’m too scared for a relationship but i know that no matter what they’re both their for fun 😌.

#inarizaki #tw #aran ojiro #kita shinsuke #osamu miya #atsumu miya #suna rintarō #ginjima hitoshi #haikyu

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taeyongbestboi · 4 years

Text

Okay, so i just took a nap and had the most fanfic / wattpad dream EVER like idek anymore.

It goes like this

I was on a music show concert and one of the artist in the line up was nct dream (we young era OMG THEY’RE SO TINY) and i decided to buy a more expensive seating section, while my friends bought the cheaper one (it was 50 thousand rupiah and mine costed 75 thousand rupiah). It was kinda like “Spotify on Stage” or something, so they’re cheap.

Anyway, idk why but i decided to bring my dog with me and he’s just running all over the place and i noticed that the venue itself wasn’t really crowded (idk why either) and my dog accidentally went to the venue (that time the gate wasn’t even opened) and i took a peek inside and it wasn’t that big. It has 2 levels and apparently, my ticket was idk what happened but i should be on the main section (1st floor) but ended up being on the 2nd level on the LEFT WING jeez. So all of my friends went in first, they all got to the 2nd floor, leaving me and my dog behind and i patiently waited for my section’s gate to be opened.

And so, it finally open. There wasn’t anyone going to my section and i was going in alone (?) pretty weird huh. And so i sat down, kinda near the railing or a wall (the railing or wall is on my right) and who knows where my dog went but he just wasn’t with me anymore (its a dream, relax)

AND SUDDENLY

CHRISTOPHER FREAKING BANG WAS SITTING BESIDES ME.

I’m laughing rn

So he sat down. Lemme describe his physical appearance and look in DETAILS.

He’s wearing a black tshirt (duh, his usual), his hair’s blonde (MY UTMOST FAV), and he’s wearing silver jewelries like a bracelet and also skz’s necklace. He’s so pale jeeeeeeez omg and doesn’t wear that much makeup lol. You know guys, i can LITERALLY feel that he’s besides me. Creepy right omg what kind of dream

And, he’s gorgeous. Guys, he’s so gorgeous :”) i feel like crying right now

AND THEN WE TALK. WE TALKED LMAO

Okay, so i can only remember some, so it goes like this

“Whoa, aren’t you Bang Chan from Skz?”

“Yeah that’s me” and he laughed

AND THIS DREAM WAS SO MADE SENse like HE’S AUSTRALIAN AND HE SPEAKS ENGLISH AND PLEASE IMAGINE

“Wow, what are you doing here?”

“Idk, just seeing a concert, being like a normal people”

Up to this point, only two things went weird. 1st is that i have no idea where my dog went, 2nd idek which country i’m in rn. How is bangchan here watching the same show with me?

After that i just went “ahhh” while nodding and i actually told him that i want to this section alone cos apparently my friends r on another section so i’m thankful that he sits besides me.

And he got closer, talk into my ear (cos the concert’s starting) and said “you’re most welcome”

AND HE ALSO THANKED ME FOR TREATING HIM LIKE A NORMAL GUY AND NOT AS A CELEBRITY

And i did the same :/ i lean in and said “anytime”

AND

AMDISNJZSIUAKKZISB I CANT

THIS PART MAKES ME GO BOOOOOM BOOOOOOM

i’m writing this with the biggest and dumbest smile on my face dang

He said that he got kinda shy after i spoke right into his ear like that (cos we’re too close)

AND I LITERALLY WENT “NOOOO DON’T SAY THAT” and blushed hard damn boy

AND HE’S ALL CUTE AND GIDDY WHILE SAYING THAT???? U KNOW WHEN HE’S GIDDY? A giant fluff ball indeed.

Okay, so then we ended up enjoying the concert together like we’re homies. We laughed, we cheered (i cheered for the dreamies tho lol) and our shoulders would often met and we’ll laugh about it omg it was heavenly

At one point i realised that it was just a dream and i have the audacity to think “well, even if it’s just a dream, make it last” WOW I’M SO COOL LMAO

And the show ends and i forgot whether it’s before the show or after the show but Chan actually asked me out. LIKE HAHAHAHHAHA HE ASKED ME OUT YAS GURL U HEARD ME RIGHT

He said, “why don’t we hang out a little?”

And i was like :0 “o-okay...”

Well i mean, i wouldn’t mind tho??? ITS CHRISTOPHER FREAKING BANG

AHHHHHH AND AND AND I ALSO TOLD HIM (at one point on our convo before the show starts) that i actually like him and that he’s one of my bias in skz and he was like “oh, really??” And i was like “bruh, i watched your show on Januari 2019 in Jakarta!!” And we laughed (again) and he seemed happy to know that i’m a stay

Back to the topic where he asked me out and i said yes and we exchanged our contacts i forgot it was our numbers or sns? Idk i don’t remember.

ONE DAY, he really picked me up y’all. I cant anymore

So apparently, we’re in my country, in my city, basically my territory. And in this dream, i wasn’t super rich, my family was actually struggling to live. And i live in this tall but old building, alongside my neighbours who were as poor as us. We live in flats, yes, that’s the word. And the building we’re living in is actually my church building irl so it felt super real.

The one who picked me up was actually his driver. I have to pick Chan somewhere in the city. After that we decided to grab some meal and we start throwing each other silly questions

Me: “well, what’s your fav food?”

Him: “rice.” WHILE SMIRKING LIKE ????

Me: “bruh, we’re asian!! We eat rice!” I laughed

And he laughed

Akxjdndkdisnkzjdbaksj naui simjang

Me: “okay, what is your fav food OTHER than rice?”

And after that i cant remember anything anymore (about the convo :))

I also can’t remember where we had lunch, this 2nd half of my dream is just us inside his car

Then we talked about a lot of things. I remember telling him a lot about my story (i just cant remember the exact things i told him, nothing really absurd though just my interests n stuffs), and he would too, and just like that back and forth. The ambience was nice, and relaxing. That time i really felt time has stopped because irl i need to deal with quite a lot if things (that include my thesis, the struggle to keep on going as my parent’s business wasn’t in the prettiest shape due to covid-19, and other stuffs). And the fact that i really need someone to talk to atm makes the dream 1000000000000% better.

So, it was the time for us to finally call it a day. And i know by heart that after all of this end, i wouldn’t be able to meet him again. How could i? I have experienced a full day hang out with the precious Christopher Bang, i couldn’t ask for more right? It was more than enough for me and i’ll continue to be his ordinary fan. On our way back to where i live, we kinda became quite. As if none of us wanted it to end.

And

Omg i said the word ‘and’ like a thousand times now

Okay so

Listen

It was 15 minutes away from where i live, so our meeting would soon come to an end.

And he suddenly pulled out some kind of a recorder or a music player idk it has a can-like-shape, and start playing a track.

It was an unreleased track. About a girl who make his heart goes warm, someone who supports him for who he is.

I nearly cried writing this guys

And he asked me to listen to it

And i did

And i was like “chan, this is beautiful”

And U KNOW THE FEELING

OF AN INEVITABLE GOODBYE

THAT ANGSTY FEELING

INSIDE YOUR GUT

I FEEL THAT

*cries*

The song is beautiful. The lyrics, the melody, everything’s perfect.

I managed to listen to it twice, but i cant remember how it sounds like. But it was BEAUTIFUL. Trust me on this.

And i just remembered, THE SONG IS IN FREAKIN KOREAN. I cant speak korean :”) but i understands EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. Dreams r cool

And he got all giddy again with his goofy smile, and somehow my brain process it to:

‘Chan wrote that song a long time ago, probably. Well, definitely before we met. He’s now showcasing it to me and the lyrics clicked and maybe i’m the girl in the lyrics’

I don’t wanna make it sound like it’s all about me (even tho it’s my dream :”)) so i asked him

“This song is about stays, right?”

And he answered

“Well, you’re a stay right? So, yes.”

OKAY :”””””””

I feel like he felt that our meeting was destined, even though we’ll never gonna see each other again after this, we know that both of us are grateful for this meeting.

Omg i really hope that i’ll dream like that again tonight

OH SIS I’M NOT DONE YET.

So, we arrived at my place. He parked the car and i was still listening to the song and when it came to its end, IDK WHY but (please forgive me for this idek what i’m doing) and i somehow REACHED FOR HIS ABS? TRAILED IT ALL THE WAY UP WITH MY RIGHT PALM (Jesus, forgive me), and then we

Kissed.

Yes. Just like that.

And the next thing that i remember is that he accompany me until i’m outside my flat, and people on my neighbourhood wondered who’s the guy (cos he looked rich and handsome) LMAO

And then i wake up.

This is one of the few dreams that i remember that has a nice ending. The nap ends when the dream ends. It was sooooooo satisfying!

——————————————————————————

Okay thank you for listening to my unimportant story :”) i do hope one day you’ll get a sweet sweet dream of your bias just like me. Have a good day, y’all!

#skz #stray kids #dream #fanfic #nap #stay #bangchan #woojin #lee know #changbin #felix #han #jisung #hyunjin #seungmin #i.n #in #jeongin #alskndaukshdn #i love my life #jyp

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

Note

Ghost hunting Magnus and Luke with Malec headcanons go

well that certainly is...... specific. i love it

okay im actually gonna do this based on that whole "supernatural home repair" show that ppl were talking about because that's just..... hilarious

Luke is the showrunner/guy who goes there to check if there are Ghosts™/historian. He actually puts the effort into his work and hes very good at it, has natural charisma and is good at explaining stuff, so hes actually great on tv. Doesn't know if he believes in ghosts but hes at least gonna try to make the show entertaining

Magnus is the psychic, and - get this - he's an actual warlock. He auditioned for the show as a joke basically and then ppl were like "oh, youre amazing, so funny, the charisma, perfect for tv, you even came in character, amazing" and he was like "..... you know what". he 100% thinks this is all hilarious and does the most stereotypical, obviously fake shit his mind can cook up ("*shaking hands with eyes closed* i can sense...... presences............."). but he kind of gets attached to the show so he uses his magic to ~help~ supernatural events to happen so luke can chill

Alec is the home repairer. He just really wants to do his job. Ghosts dont exist. Ur room is cold because you put the heater in a bad spot. There is a rational explanation for literally all of this (Magnus, behind him: "yeah, ghosts")

s1 is an absolute trainwreck, but the craziest fucking thing happens: the show gets so popular. it's huge

show fans on twitter are like "innovate nothing change nothing do NOT raise the budget just give me more of this absolute garbage show" and it GETS RENEWED

the show basically gets amazingly popular because of lukes charisma, magnus' absolutely hilarious shenanigans (but also his wit and personality that pour through sometimes), and alec's grumpiness.

magnus gets a lot of fans and he has no idea why

the show started when magnus was basically at the final stage of his recovery from depression (due to both abuse, racism, loneliness and queerphobia), and it helped him get outside more, find fun things to do and remember why he loved meeting people and doing over the top shit he kind of didnt anymore. it also earns him new friends. so its very good for him

at the beginning alec is very closed off. hes just the workaholic, hyper-rational kind of guy. he auditioned for the show because it pays well and he was unemployed and struggling financially a bit and he really didnt want to go for his parents' help, since they were in the middle of a divorce and there were still some unresolved things from when he came out (although at the point the show starts theyre already getting around) so he takes what he can get. he doesn't have many fans at first, hes very no-nonsense and focused and barely interacts with the camera in s1.

but his grumpiness and no-nonsense attitude are kind of..... funny? so he adds this other element of trainwreck and dysfunction that makes the show so amazingly popular. also, alec can be pretty witty and even sassy when he wants to, and sometimes those parts of his slip in - mostly when he's fixing something, because the physical labor + feeling comfortable with something he knows how to do and likes doing helps him relax and be a bit more like himself. so slowly his personality starts to shine through to both the audience, and magnus

magnus and alec basically start developing a friendship over magnus constantly teasing alec's seriousness. alec will be in the middle of an Important Explanation about how incorrect door installment can lead to problems in the long run and magnus will show up all like "the door is a ghost". initially alec would roll his eyes and hide his smile behind his hand (really badly i must say) but eventually they evolve into their quick teasing banter

magnus keeps insisting that of course hes 100% serious, hes the real deal and ghosts do exist. the best part is, hes not actually lying. but they dont know that, obviously

luke is the one who first realizes that getting them to interact more would be crazy good and help make the show more dynamic and funny. so from then on they start doing their bits together instead of separated

you know where this is going

there are even some emotional moments where alec talks about his struggle with coming out and being more openly himself, and magnus talks about his struggle with depression and racial/sexuality issues, and Luke talks about how his family rejected him after he decided to work in showbusiness

it always hits the viewers like a ton of bricks

"dealing with depression is hard because it makes you think 'is this who i am? is that what im made of? this emptiness and lethargy?' but what recovery and therapy have taught me is, no. how you deal with depression, survive it, learn from it to get out of your destructive habits and environment that got u there in the first place - that's who you are" "i cant believe this is a quote from the psychic from the supernatural home repair show" "excuse me its from what"

their relationship develops. the three of them become very good friends, and the show only gets more and more popular as time goes by and they get closer, have more fun, interact more

you know what happens

the pining between magnus and alec is just. unbelievable. luke frequently looks at the cameramen like "can u believe this" and it makes the cut like half of the time. him and the cameramen start forming a supporting friendship based on their despair at seeing the two of them just make eyes at each other

magnus makes up 'supernatural' excuses to hold alec's hand, like, once a week

sometimes when magnus cracks a joke or laughs or does something particularly silly alec just. looks at him with so much tenderness and adoration in his eyes the cameramen feel like invasors for filming it

edition team: "why is it that every time magnus laughs the camera gets weird and wobbly?" cameramen, who started ducking and jumping out of the way so as not to invade alecs clearly private looks at magnus: "we were, uh, laughing at his joke too"

somehow neither of them notice. luke refuses to intervene because "im not their dad and they can get their shit together on their own"

he does do his best to guarantee they arent exposed tho

"malec" shippers start popping up anyway because looks or no looks their dynamic is amazing and fun. they are called tinhatters by most other fans. they arent major harrassers or anything like some other real ppl fans, tho, because its my au and i will give common sense to whoever i want

i dont even know how they get together, honestly

it takes a really long time

luke is about to go crazy

they get married at the end idk

#ask #anonymous #sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #luke garroway #malec #malec au #fic #kinda?#ficlet #fic idea #overflowing trashcan #supernatural home repair au #brotp: downworlder dads

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magic-owl · 5 years

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i wish these had numbers to not take up room but alas: what is your absolute favorite ship? what’s a ship you like that most people don’t? what is the most underrated ship, in your opinion? (choose any of your fave pairings for the following bc I'm curious about all your faves) rate [pairing] from 1-10 and explain why. what’s your favorite headcanon of [pairing]? what’s your favorite canon moment of [pairing]? favorite AU ideas for [pairing]? what song(s) remind you of [pairing]?

Thank you my dear! You are my Star Wars Friend so I’ll keep it SW focused (if you wanted to ask this to solely find out what else I liked BESIDES SW sorry lol just let me know and I can redo it). This got long because turns out I have a lot to say about my ships so answers under the cut!!! xD

Absolute favorite ship: This one’s kinda hard but I’m gonna have to go with Obi Wan/Anakin! I also like them a lot as a trio with Padmé, but overall I gotta say these two are just my faves? Why? Because they are such a M E S S and gosh I just love them so much. Ppl say they don’t like each other very much but come on, have you watched the TCW, have you watched RotS, they’re the greatest team there ever was, they’re constantly fretting and worrying about each other, they’re always teasing (the constant banter omg boys pls) at each other and hyping the other up and believing in each other and Ahsoka literally calls them her adoptive guardians in the Ahsoka novel, that’s how much of a family they were and ugh they’re just so married. And they’re such a TRAGEDY and it breaks my heart and it’s delicious to watch because in the final fight it’s just heartbreaking betrayal because through it all they love each other so much and that’s WHY they’re so furious with each other because to them it feels like the ultimate betrayal. Even after (when after everything, Obi Wan still loved Anakin too much to kill him himself) they’re constantly on the other’s mind, and ugh the pain hurts but in such a good way, and how in the end Anakin did the right thing and Obi Wan was RIGHT THERE to help guide him back to the light in spirit and now they can rest happily together for eternity (with some spare stressing about, ya know, Kylo Ren and the impending return of Sidious, but never mind all that). and on top of that, it’s my fave because I also absolutely love their relationship platonically as well, as much as I LIKE to see them together, it’s not necessary for me because they have such an enjoyable dynamic. *coughs* Sorry, so yea, they’re my disaster faves! 😅

A ship I like that most people don’t: See above lol. I get aspects of the Obikin ship can be problematic in the whole power dynamic and age difference thing, but I’ve only ever shipped it after Anakin was knighted as an adult when there’s literally not a problem with it (it was weird for me because I watched the prequels totally out of order. I actually saw the TCW cartoon FIRST and then I saw RotS and then I didn’t watch the first two for a while after that because I was a fool and listened to prequel bashers who said the first two weren’t good, so when I started shipping them as adults that was all I saw them as). To be honest, for the most part the PT fandom is done with the drama since ya know, like a good half of the SW general fandom still hates us, so no one’s really vocal about not liking it and our shipping community is mostly left to ourselves, but every once in a while I’ll come across a joke post/fanart of the two and OP will be all snarky in the notes like “tag as a ship and I’ll come after you with my spiked bat” (someone’s exact words btw) and it’s like ok jeez, do not interact then, was minding my own business dude...

My most underrated ship: Hmmmm....... Gonna have to go between Luke/Ezra and Satine/Padmé. Skybridger I understand since they’ve literally never met in canon, but come ON, they’d get along like a house on fire and argh they should have met, it would be great. I honestly don’t get why Pads and Satine aren’t more of a thing (THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE AN OFFICIAL SHIPNAME ;_; ) cuz c’mon they’re the subtler explosive yin to Obi and Ani’s wildfire yang. They get along great and work together really well, and they both seem to have a type. I am doing them a little better in my new OT4 fic, and I hope ppl like it!!! Ya know what, I’m also gonna add Kaeden (cute girl from the Ahsoka novel!) and Ahsoka because even if a lot of ppl actually ship them, they hardly have any content and neED MORE DANGIT THEY WERE SO CUTE!!!!!!!

Gonna go with Obikin for all the following ones cuz I haven’t had the chance to gush about my boys in a while and you’ve opened Pandora’s box

Rate them from 1-10: 10, plus a hundred more points because I love them, then subtract that hundred again cuz Anakin is an gotdang idiot who ruined it and now they both make me cry. My scoring reasons are that they make me feel all the emotions and I love them Ever So Much and argh.

Fave headcanon: Oh boy, I’ve got a couple actually!

Whenever they’re talking/arguing over the phone, they’re always subconsciously mirroring each other’s actions even when they can’t see what the other is doing. It’s kinda creepy because you’ll hear yelling and it’ll look like one of them’s talking to an invisible person in front of them when it’s actually each other.

There has been multiple instances of them both getting injured in battle because they were distracted watching the other be a total badass (not that either will admit it)

Neither of them are morning people. AT ALL. Obi Wan actually has self-discipline and is able to get up with an alarm and crankily drag them both up, but both are almost impossible to deal with until they’ve had caffeine in them, and it’s been established that unless you want to risk murder, neither of them talks in the morning until caffeine has been provided.

There has been many, many cases of accidentally taking the other’s robe and not realizing it but thinking to themselves that said robe feels more comforting than usual today.

A mutually drunken arm wrestling match absolutely turned into a mutually drunken makeout once. Neither can remember it, and they wonder why some of the clones have been acting funny all week.

Half of the Temple thinks they’re already dating.

Ok I’ll stop it here

Fave Canon Moment: Ughhh, this is HARD. I really like the “any closer and you’d be kissing it” line in TCW, basically any moment in TCW when one of them refers to Ahsoka as “OUR padawan”, the extra long stares and unnecessary touches they give each other in TCW, the elevator scene in RotS movie (THE NOVEL MAKES IT A MILLION TIMES BETTER), also in RotS the way Anakin is half-ready to straight up fight Palpatine when he suggests leaving Obi Wan behind to die, the RotS “No loose wire jokes” bit, the RotS “Roger. Roger.” bit (OKAY JUST THE WHOLE FIRST HALF OF THIS RIDICULOUS MOVIE), the way Vader built his big stupid castle where they had their breakup, the way he’s constantly mentioning Obi Wan when the convo wasn’t even about him, seeing them together again at the end of RotJ (whoops you asked for one, you get MANY SCENES)

Fave AU ideas: Again, there’s a couple!

Superpower AU: Can’t decide whether I’d put this in canon or modern. Most powers in this AU are stolen from inspired by X-Men, DC, and other popular media, so I’m torn between Anakin having Jean Grey/Dark Phoenix style powers while Obi Wan had a variation on Rogue’s with additional energy manipulation. OR it would be a thing where Anakin could commune with the dead a la Klaus from Umbrella Academy while Obes had sort of Avatar-style wind/flight powers. (Both are relevant for different plots).

Sith AU: I know these are far from unpopular in the SW fandom, but the way I’d do it would be to try and write two stories at once, update one every other week so one update a week total. The stories would what would happen if either of them became the Sith Apprentice after the events of Episode 1, and how their dynamic would be during Ep 2 and The Clone Wars with one of them on the other side. It’s funny because the way I’ve plotted it, the Sith!Ani fic would have very big Good Omens vibes, while the Sith!Obi one would have very strong Under the Red Hood vibes, so two VERY different dynamics going on xD

WWII Spies: This is one I 100% plan to write someday, even tho it is a very long time from now. It’s basically following Anakin as an American naval pilot who got injured in a crash and discharged. He still wants to serve and eventually his talent gets him into the intelligence end of the war and sent to Europe where he meets Ben, who’s been working with British intelligence since it broke out, and sparks fly. I’m kind of cheating here cuz as of now this is an Obianidala story, not just Obikin, but it’s one I’m very excited for

Phantom of the Opera AU: This idea I had when I realized that Anakin as Vader is kinda a Lot like the Phantom, but he’s also a Lot like Christine too. So it turned into Anakin as a talented ballet dancer getting preyed on by Palpatine!Phantom (there is NO romance there, Palpy is a total creep and will be treated as such) with Obi Wan as a combination of Raoul and Madame Gery and I have a bunch of ideas and idk if it’s gonna be an actual thing, but I want it to.

Shapeshifter AU: Canon, not very complicated but they can all shift into animals. Obi Wan is a kind of cougar panther cat with a fluffy ginger tail, and Anakin is a big grumpy black Krayt Dragon with a stump for a front leg.

Not A Jedi!AU: One in canon in which set like the Sith!AU, two different stories exploring how their dynamic would be if one of them wasn’t found by the Order. As of now, I’ve got Anakin as the warrior pirate prince of Tatooine, after having grown up and staged a slave rebellion, then promptly put his mother on the throne, and Obi Wan’s there to negotiate something during TCW and things happen. For the Obi Wan one, he’s a political journalist and war correspondent who keeps on running into Anakin’s assignments and popping up where he’s stationed and Anakin has to keep this idiot from getting himself killed/stop asking me annoying questions that criticize the Jedi and the government.

Dark!AU: A kind of morbid canon divergent fic where Padmé dies early and unexpectedly (Palps didn’t plan it). Anakin goes off the rails and Obi Wan agrees to go with him on a murder vengeance roadtrip to try and keep him from Falling or the Sith from getting to him. He kinda fails and they both Fall in a way and it ends with them hunting down Sidious’ players one by one. I’m not entirely sure I want to continue with this tho because it plays strongly on the Fridged Woman trope, which I can’t stand. I’d have to figure out how to give Padmé some sort of active role after her death...

Songs to describe them: There’s a couple (I could have very well gone cranky but I decided to do (mostly) serious))(also my music taste kinda stinks)

Icarus— Bastille

Anna Sun— WALK THE MOON

Animal I Have Become— Acoustic cover by Vitamin String Quartet (original by Three Days Grace) (seriously y’all listen it’s sooooo gooooood)

Warriors— Imagine Dragons

My Demons— STARSET

Ignorance— Paramore

Set Fire to the Rain— Adele

Stubborn Love— The Lumineers

How to Save A Life— The Fray (yes i am aware it is stereotypical angst song leave me Alone it FITS)

Viva la Vida— Coldplay (tbh this fits like the entire PT but I liked it)

Raised by Wolves— U2 (another more PT-centric, but this one works dangit)

Bonus Broadway Song! : Confrontation from Les Miserables (now that ya think of it, that would be a pretty good AU too.....)

Bonus Broadway Song! : The Tango Maureen from Rent (I always imagined this one as Obi Wan and Padmé about Anakin, but it would be about something other than cheating cuz canon has established Anakin views cheating as a worse crime than murder, so yea)

Bonus Broadway Song! : Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (aight this one’s mostly a joke but come ON don’t tell me that’s not completely them xD)

#owl gets an ask #long post #wolf-skins

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nosferatyou · 5 years

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I was tagged by @lazingonsunday and @shes-outta-sight to do one of the long tag, get to know them, type of things. Which I absolutely love by the way. I don’t talk about myself much.

What was the last thing you read?

Well I was editing the latest chapter of my fic of that counts? If not some random josh one shot a couple hours ago lol.

Favorite Movie?

Man it’s ever revolving. It was Django Unchained for a long ass time, but now I think it’s Baby Driver.

Favorite Book?

Misery by Stephen King. I read it years ago and I have a lot of good memories tied to it. Me and my friend became closer through his works and this was the first one I read. It’ll stay close in my heart.

Dream Date?

It’s one I’ve been on before but just Vinyl Shopping. It’s simple and easy but music in a relationship is important to me. I gotta make sure they have good picks. But there is something so soft about it all.

Do you have a crush?

Sadly no. But I’m fully in Joshes lane rn if that means anything?

What are your hobbies?

Oof okay. I mostly draw like all hours of the day. But I very actively keep up with guitar and bass. I write as well. I make videos for my friends. I collect old and beat up vinyls. Lot of art stuff

Favorite time of day?

Night time. Like from hours 10-3. That’s my true alone time and it’s something I cherish and look forward to everyday.

If you could look like anything, what would you like to look like?

I don’t wish to change anything about my body. I think I’d be silly to. But man I wish I could actually afford clothes I’d like to wear. Real bellbottoms you know? I want that vintage shit.

Are you romantic?

In a secure relationship yes. I show too much emotion too fast in the beginning. But boy oh boy when I get romantic. I get very touchy feely. Man date ideas. Lot of carefully curated playlists.

Favorite type of weather?

That time in like August/September when I can wear jeans and maybe a light jacket. But it’s still warm, you know?

What do you like talking about?

Music. I talk about it all day long. The foundation behind it. The artist. I could discuss guitars and instruments with people all damn day. I just. I love everything about it. But also GVF is my hyperfixation rn and my friend is ready to shoot my head off if I speak another word about Jakes guitar playing.

What are your turn ons?

Ngl I’m akin to a boy with long hair. It’s my vice. I’ve only dated long haired musicians. But I just want someone who radiates some kind of light you know? I’ve seen too much darkness. I want someone genuine and real. Is it too much to ask for a positive person?

What are your turn offs?

I’ve dealt with a lot in my past. Basically anything that’s negative. Ignorance mostly. I don’t want someone who refuses to learn. It’s stupid. I just want honesty and someone with an open mind. Anything else is a no go.

If you got a tattoo what would it be and where would you get it?

Okay so. I really want tattoos. I designed something about a year ago I want really badly but it’s so expensive. Thinking rationally. Right now I’d really like some line art of bust. Idk what tho.

Do you have any pets?

3! 2 dogs, Ruby and Nellie, both too six year old mutts. Nellie is the weirdest god damn dog I’ve ever had. And ruby is basically a fox dog. And then there is Friday my cat. He can be a bitch boy but he’s a sweet boy who’s just being a cat. (I also have ten plants but most people don’t consider them pets)

Dream Job?

I’m still searching for that. Recently my heads been floating towards playing live shows as a guitar or bass player. But I’m no where near the point of even considering. I’m pretty shitty. But how Cool would it be to play that violin bow with my guitar on stage?

Dream place to live?

Not considering any potential jobs. I just want to live in a big log cabin somewhere on the outskirts of a town. Out in the wilderness and free to just live.

Dream vacation?

I’ve never been to Europe. I’d love to just road trip around in a van honestly. But before that visit my great grandfather grave in Scotland. He was a kings hand and did a lot back in the day. I’d be cool to see. But then I’d fuck around in Europe.

Do you have any piercings?

I’ve got my nose and ears pierced. I’m pretty happy with that

If you had kids what would you name them?

Man I don’t even want to think about that.

What are your best traits?

I’m a great listener. I’m extremely compassionate. Will do anything to help friends. And I feel like my music taste isn’t half bad.

Worst traits?

The compassionate thing tends to bite me in the ass. I’ve got a lot of emotions. I also have 20 things I want to do all at once all the time. I loose sleep because of it. There is more but I’d go on too long.

Worst fear?

Weirdly enough any type of natural disaster. When I was way too young I watched “The Impossible” and then shortly after learned about techtonic plates and I never forgotten about it or where they are.

What do you want to eat right now?

Brownies. And a fucking burrito.

Best vacation you’ve been on?

I went on a road trip to Chicago recently and I just makes so many good memories. I saw ninja sex party’s 10th anniversary, which was fantastic. But I got to visit a friend all weekend. But my favorite part was the ride back. The whole time we just talked but also sang to old 50s songs and just had this moment of unity. I still think about it

Favorite City?

I haven’t been to too many places yet so I’m gonna go with my hometown, Nashville. If you look past all the tourists. It’s got a very rich musical history and in certain places you just feel it. I loved living there and it made me who I was.

Favorite social media platform?

Tumblr. It’s really the only one I ever check anymore. Plus I’ve made some great friends on here.

Favorite article of clothing?

My fucking bellbottoms. I wear them whenever I can. They give me so much confidence.

Do you play any sports?

Fuck no. I have no coordination whatsoever.

Favorite meal of the day?

Lunch. You have a lot more options. Plus I just like the vibe

What are you excited for?

Starting the tenth I have a lot of good things coming my way. In that week I get to finally end this semester, the new Harry styles album releases, I get a new bass, and I get to see fucking Greta Van Fleet. None of you know how excited I am for that. Pit tickets. Jesus it’ll be good.

Not excited for?

Finals. And an um.. upcoming funeral.

When was the last time you cried?

I honestly can’t remeber and that really scares me.

Dream house?

I basically answered this earlier but gimme that big ass log cabin.

Something you hate about this world?

Don’t get my started. I hate that everyone hates themselves all the time when they have no reason to. I hate that 8 people have most of the worlds money and are doing nothing to help global warming. I hate the man that’s in power and what he’s helped cause. I hate everyone who refuses to accept literally any fact. I hate that my future is bleak because of some old ass white men.

Something you love about this world?

I love the light that radiates off of certain people. I love that our generation has hope and that some people are actually trying to make change. I love the raw creativity I see in others and I love that we are bringing back the resurgence of peace and love.

What scents do you like?

Old records and books. Its the simple pleasures.

What kind of sleeper are you?

Typically heavy but sometimes I Sleep so little it feels like I got nothing at all.

Cat or dog person?

Don’t make me pick! I grew up with both, and very partial to both.

How long would you survive in a zombie Apocolypse?

I wish I could tell you. I’d like to think I’d live awhile but I would probably be the ones who look like they have hope and then accidentally get taken out.

Are you trusting?

I used to be. I realized recently how thick my walls really are.

What fictional character do you identify with?

Sorry to be boring but nothing is coming to mind. But then again I never felt akin to anyone really?

What labels do you commonly get?

In high school I was called “the quiet one” if that tells you anything.

What song would be your life anthem?

Sunshine on my shoulders by John Denver is the only one coming to mind. I think I just want the feeling it gives me to be what I feel all the time.

What issues are you dealing with right now?

Two friends in the last month Um. Took their own lives. One being an old friend. I’ve never dealt with death. My brain doesn’t know how to handle it. I also think I might have ADD. But. That’s the tip of the iceberg rn

How can someone win you over?

Typically I’m drawn to people who are the loudest in the room. I like that their confident and can speak their minds but what wins me over about them is when they really open up. When I learn about the real then rather than the face that they put on. Most of the time it goes that way.

What’s something people don’t know about you?

I’m making a short film with some friends who go to Columbia. Should be out soonish.

I tag

@pvre-mourning @peacelovekiszka @fretavangleet @aint-no-denying @sosozoso

#tag games #bet you didnt want to know all that djd ya?

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ts-seychelles · 6 years

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EP. 2 - “Old Yeller Me Out Back” - DAN

Ep 2: So like, I'm annoyed because last round OF COURse, the other tribe picked to save jared. God i hope nicole goes because I don't want to deal with that shit every round its gonna be annoying.

the hosts are holding me hostage ;-; this is so sad. Lets see what tea I can spill. Roxy, Zach and I are basically in a poly and I think I'm gonna back stab him so I can only have Roxy for myself. I aint gonna share hurmph. Jealous wifeu. Oh and johnny idk if he backstabbed me but we were talking about dying so that's something

I was such a flop this first round, I’m literally embarrassed to still be here hahaha. I never would have played a game like this a year or two ago. Oh well, coming out of retirement has it’s disadvantages. As for the tribe, I feel really good about Ash and Dan and Augusto, they all seem great!! I want to work with those 3, I think an alliance would be great, but I don’t know yet how they feel about each other, so I’ll wait until I figure that out before I approach it. I want to try Jared, but it’s hard bc he’s been exiled so we really couldn’t strategize this round, idk who he wants to work with. I don’t feel good about JG, Frankie, Drake or Regan. Idk if they just don’t like me or if they wanna target me, but they have literally either ignored me/left me on read or had the most dry conversations with me. Like I’m so social, I can talk to anyone, but not brick walls, come on now. Ash told me yesterday that they were throwing my name around, which was terrifying. The only reason I didn’t vote earlier is bc I didn’t know if I was going to have to do something crazy. You can’t change your vote, so I didn’t wanna screw myself, but I guess that’s what I did anyway. I literally forgot about tribal, I was watching a damn Harry Potter movie totally clueless that I was getting a self-vote. So sorry hosts and audience, I don’t wish to disappoint and I am doing my best, but this is such a busy time for me. Hopefully I’ll still be here when my life is a bit less hectic. It’s exciting to be playing again, I just need to get my groove back hahaha

So Allison is gone..... am I sad about it? .......no.

Moving into this reward challenge, feeling pretty good about this team. We get along well, and a relatively quiet. Hope that's the same experience everyone else is having and it's not just me.

So far I’m in 0 alliances but I think that’s ok. In Ko Chang I was fresh off an ORG where I was a major goat and let someone else run my game and I wasn’t particularly nice to the other side, so I was a Nat10 essentially. Still got 4 votes tho by begging and pleading 😌😌😌😌but I went into Ko Chang wanting to change that and actually run the game to win and be respected, ended up getting blindsided for being too controlling, and now in an attempt to finish my business I’m trying to change my game AGAIN and succeed by building genuine relationships and I think I am. I actually like my tribe a lot and I think I could be legit friends with Ash and Augusta especially, vs last season I kinda disliked a lot of them on a personal level. I’m just gonna take it slow and build genuine relationships with people and be nice and maybe it’ll be what it takes for me to win.

Me throwing this reward challenge because I don't want anyone on my tribe to get closer to figuring out the idol has been found and I'm the one that has it? Sounds like a plan!! Crooks and Zach are "comparing" idol search notes with me and I'm scared because I was open with where I searched, but only because it was the FIRST FUCKING TIME LOOKING FOR IT!!! I didn't even know how to LIE about not finding the idol, but aye, at least I got one, so I'll take that as a W

https://youtu.be/6SiwJELGFp8

Okay so this rigging for Alex Crooks is UNREAL. First a graphic design challenge and now a music video challenge? Boiiii. I’m gonna kermit. I hate that this is how the game is starting. If we lose I hope I get sent to ghost island so I can chilllll. But they’ll prolly send JG or someone else who isn’t very active. *SIGH* I called with Jared for a little bit tonight. What a good seed. I probably talked too much game with him, but he seems really nice and all. Yeah he’s Nicole’s boyfriend, and that’s something I need to consider moving forward, but tbh my cold bitter gay heart felt warm talking to him. He actually made me genuinely laugh and seems like a nice kid. I’d be willing to get third for a Nicole/Jared final 2. I’d stan.

We won reward too! Let's just keep winning and not have to ever worry.

WOW We love an episode two winner edit starting to emerge!! Hi I'm Johnny. Some of you may know me a a sociopath, others may know me as the nice jewish frat boy, and others know me as the one who harassed Regan and overused VL Confessionals during Tumblr Survivor: Flops, but NONETHELESS..... Your king has arrived! tbh being cast for the season didn't surprise me, because I knew I was getting cast lowkey, but starting the game up and getting to see who is actually in this group of people is pretty stellar, and I'm pleased with it, especially me being on this tribe compared to being on the other tribe. I have started to feel confident in the social relationships that I'm working on, but lemme do a quick rundown ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Going down the line for initial trust) Mr Crooks - Well first off...... the last time we played together was over a year ago, in a little place called Japan, and it did NOT go well for him and I. I thought he was bad at conversations, he didn't want me to have a say, but just kinda vote with him instead, and he got VERY snippy at me when we were talking about getting rid of a villain, I proposed Sarah, and then he ran and told Sarah and almost got me sent home. But since then, Alex and I have become friends, and I think it's really good that we're in this game together. I am essentially going to play like a dickhead and try to make myself a top three person for everyone, and just hope that it can all get me to a swap or the merge, where I can start going wild. Nicole - I love Nicole to death. Another person i very much want to work with. I know the feeling may not be reciprocated, specifically from her boyfriend Jared on the other tribe, who has beef with me from Game Changers, but I am definitely hoping for the best now, and I think that her and I will definitely work together, at least in these early stages. Zach - Zach is one COOL motherfucker. Has a lot of super cool stories to tell, and we spoke a lot when we did 99 bottles together. He and I (and Alex) have been comparing notes for idol searches, so I think he wants to work with me. I can tell he still has some newb in him because he wanted to make a six person alliance with myself, him, Alex, Nicole, Vi and Roxy, but I just don't think a six person alliance is really what is going to help us at this point in the game.... it can only hurt us if certain people are smart enough, and I also don't trust certain people in that group :/ Ruben - Pretty solid dude. Just getting to know him, but he keeps talking about how I'm talking to him more than everyone else, so I'll take it as a win. Our conversations have been pretty one dimensional, but we spoke about who may be the first boot, so I'm not too nervous for THAT now Vilma - Another one I really think I can work well with in this game. She seems like such a nice soul, and I don't see that devilish side to her yet, but I'm sure it's going to come out at one point or another, but she seems very open, and I know doing 99 bottles with her is just going to initially keep me safe with her hopefully. Vi - Vi seems cool. I have been told she's a bit of a floater, I've seen it at times too, but I definitely don't think that she is going to be too much of a force, and if anything, her social game might lack, which can just help my positioning in this initial tribe. Would LOVE to work with Vi, especially dragging as many people who've done well in the past with me as deep as I can to keep other threats around me, but yea.... Vi is cool, and taught me how to make my own sushi, so we rollin Asya - I trust Asya, I want to work with Asya, but what I'm hearing the general consensus is that she isn't talking to people as much. I can agree I don't think our conversations have been STELLAR, but I definitely think we've spoken enough, so idk how everyone else is feeling, but I've heard a mix of Asya and Ricky being the least active... As long as it ain't me Roxy - I only trust Roxy now because I don't think she'd make the stab at me this early, and I'm trying my hardest to make her feel comfortable, werk up this ORG flirt I've got going on, and hope it takes me somewhere. We've played together twice in the past, and both times she has made a stab at me before I was able to make a stab at her, and I'm sure she's thinking the same thing in her mind, but also there are a lot of people who dislike each other and have beef, so hopefully Roxy can see me as a number for as long as possible and not make a move on me Ricky - I like you personally, but you've just been sick this whole time, and apparently you're friends with Roxy according to some people/what I've heard, so idk.... kind of scary, but we'll see what comes of us. I'll start talking to you more soon ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So yea, there's my tribe... I know I like them all as people, which is going to help me spread myself thin within the tribe, I just need to keep reminding myself to not stick my neck out or try to do ANYTHING substantial until later. I've gotta keep my social relationships in tact, I've gotta play the field, lower my status a bit as someone who could be voted out, and just hope for the best. Having an idol in my pocket certainly helps, and with my LOVE of music videos right here, I think I have a chance to get some "This Is Me" redemption, if my tribe actually would rather do that over Immortals, since we literally only have two options because Isaac is a dumb thot. This also spells Andrew all over it bc I gave him an idea similar to this for a season we hosted together, so yea. I blame all the gays. THANKS !!

Regan is kinda annoying me with her woe is me shit, Don't get me wrong I still love her to death, however she's complaining in the tribe chat about every suggestion we make towards the music video, and then she comes crying to my dms about how shes going to get voted out for every little thing she does. She also threatened to quit as well which is really messy imo. Idk if I can stay allied with her for long as I dont want to associate myself with paranoid messes.

I woke up at camp yesterday morning and was PARCHED, just simply like.....dying of thirst. So I decide to go out to the well, and there's a cute little parchment sitting there. It has my name on it and everything so I'm like....it's TREEMAIL FOR ME? JUST ME?? Amazing. So, I open it up and....it's a Legacy ADVANTAGE. I am so hyped honestly, but I have absolutely no faith in me to actually use this correctly in any way shape or form. The names on it are Johnny, Andrew, Crow, Jared, Me. So that means Jared must've found it at Ghost Island and willed it to me BUT, that worries me for him because I feel like people will think he has it and will subsequently vote him out. Which would just leave me feeling guilty because I shot my boyfriend, got him sent to exile, he willed an advantage to me, then his tribe voted him out because of said advantage which I still have.....I love a moral dilemma. I actually hate it. I know if we lose immunity again, the tribe is going to want to send Regan to Ghost Island which means that they will probably 90% vote out Jared. But, then again I don't know the tribe dynamics over there. I should have more faith that Jared can make connections and more faith in him in general. He did make it to 2nd when I've only made it to third. I contemplated throwing this challenge just because I have more faith in Vi or Ruben being at the bottom of our totem pole than Jared being at the bottom of his just because his tribe seems.......not invested enough to think it's a smart strategic decision to literally keep him until merge, use us for numbers but then chuck us away because both of us can't win an individual immunity. But then the challenge was a music video which is virtually impossible to throw and even more impossibly able to do it in a light that's not suspicious. I need to solidify an alliance of some sort or something like...this is too wild. I get how me and Jared can be targeted because of the whole couple thing and the fact that we are um....both kind of amazing at this, not to flex but....we're amazing at strategic thinking it's kind of what we do and just how our minds are built, his moreso than mine. But, like I reaaaaaaaaaaaaallly hope I can allude to some sort of weakness that makes people keep me around much longer and him around much longer again on his tribe. I'm not saying their tribe is gonna lose immunity bc that's cocky but, if it does come down to our tribe flopping at it, I might be set. I think Johnny might try to get me out that little rat. But, besides that I think I would have Asya and Ricky on my side, and maybe even Zach. It's hard because Jared and I are....an inseparable duo. I would literally never vote him out unless he like, asked me to. I know how much he invests in these games and would never do that to him. If that ends up being my downfall, I feel like I can't really be mad about it. Like oops, cared too much about my boyfriend's feelings and got voted out of an online game :// Anyways in terms of the game, the Legacy Advantage is going to stay a secret. I'm not telling a single soul and I have faith in Jared to keep his mouth shut about it too, seeing as though he might know what I've gotten? I doubt it would be randomly given to me and he'd have to have some knowledge if his name is written down on the bottom of it too. So far my order of people I trust (most to least) is Ricky > Johnny > Alex > Roxy > Asya > Zach > Vilma > Ruben > Vilma and I just called Johnny a rat so that's saying something. I just feel like I'm about to get the rug pulled out from under me. Oiy vey.

I cannot believe that Isaac has tailor made the beginning of this game for me. Flag Making challenge? Great. Casanova? My only good flash game. Music Video Challenge? Yeet. I hope my tribe doesn't expect me to pull this much weight, but I think I solidified my spot in the tribe. As long as Regan and Dan never interact with me in this game I think I'm solid.

https://youtu.be/dWtZc9xEfNM

That last vote was the HARDEST and WILDEST vote in Tumblr Survivor history… said no one. As sad as I am that I never really got to know Allison and as concerned as I am that she’s doing alright (we really don’t know), I’m happy she left and we got that out of our system. Hopefully, this will allow us to win and do the damn thing! My only concern is that Samantha self-voted last tribal and that coupled with the fact that her name was on the chopping block somewhat makes me a bit nervous. That being said, this is a case of deja vu that should really just stay in the past. What I mean is that I’ve always been the type of person that looked out for other people and it’s bitten me in the ass. In Bhutan, I took out an alliance member because I valued my friendship with Ari and it ended up getting me out since she was seen as more valuable and I was untrustworthy. In Great Lakes, I gave up the chance at safety at Exile for Emmon to save an ally and it got me taken out since I was also seen as a major threat. Samantha is probably my closest ally here at the moment, but if she’s on a sinking ship, I don’t mind using the only life vest on myself for a change. I think I finally figured out that while I am someone who tries to stay loyal for the most part, if someone is digging themselves a hole during the premerge, you just have to let it happen. Maybe a big part of my unfinished business is minding my own.

(A LITTLE WHILE LATER)

Reward challenges are always a mixed bag as people don’t try as hard since it’s “just a reward” and while that may be true, advantages of any kind in a game like this shouldn’t be taken lightly. Think about it from this perspective, our tribe currently has lost one member and likely to lose another (fax, no printer rip) so if the other tribe wins an idol clue then they have yet another advantage over us. If we swap next round like I think we might, a numbers disadvantage and the likelihood of not having a power just ruins our chances. But anyways, this wasn’t our challenge to win because this game is MESSY and people (coughAlexcough) are good at like everything. But yeah, I just wanted to put that out there cause it was on my mind. Also, I’m super happy that Jared’s back since he and I are pretty close! Although, I wish he would tell me about Ghost Island but I also shouldn’t expect as much this early on. We did talk about potentially making an alliance and who we would want in it and… it was a bit of us not giving out info and thoughts on the game. It makes sense, we’re in the “avoid too much game talk, anyone but me” stage but we did come to a consensus that Ashen is cool and that we both like Samantha and Regan, but it never evolved into anything else. Another challenge loss is likely to change the lack of info though, I’m sure of it.

Ya know what’s fun? Being on a flop tribe. I’m truly enjoying myself. Everyone I hate is on the other tribe so I can’t wait for a swap or merge so I can get picked off quickly :~) hehehehe I love it

i feel like the game is moving slowly because I need to just keeping talking to people, and I'm in no alliances yet, and I'm sure some exist, but I'm just GAH.... I wanna keep winning, but I also wanna swap next round to just get the strategy of the game going ffs Send help to my dying soul

https://youtu.be/mpgD-uqZknI

I like this tribe but they will not shut up. Honestly, it's nonstop. There killing my phone. I don't know how much more I can take.

Imagine being a racist and animal killer sympathizer and supporting the greatest showman?

(AFTER TAKING A WALK TO CALM DOWN)

Honeslee im just over this game hahahahaha. Like everyone else in our video sucked???? I mean I wasn’t like amazing either but like come on. Okay Ashen’s parts were cute. But Regan looked like that spinning Lana Del Rey gif. Besides losing the challenge tonight I got into a fight with both my boyfriend and one of my really good friends. So depression is real sisters. I’m spiraling. Maybe they’ll put me out of my misery tomorrow and Ol Yeller me out back. But until then I’m gonna make like Gabby on survivor David vs Goliath and cry.

So we lost because the judges liked their song choice a lot better, even though their video is a straight rip off from the one in flops. It's just honestly annoying if I'm being completely honest. Oh well I'm in the lowkey alliance with Ash, Augusto, and possibly Sam as well which is an interesting alliance tribe dynamic. I just feel good because the judges complimented me and Ash, and I finally completed a music video challenge! I honestly wish we won because I wanted a night off the stress of everything, but oh well. The first name I'm hearing already is Regan because she is being a mess, and I love her to death but messy players are dangerous in games like these. Still can't believe we lost to a fucking plagarized video its so crappy.

I pushed hard for JG to go to Ghost Island because IF it's anything like the CBS season then whoever is sent to Ghost Island will probably choose a power to be given to someone still in the game and I'm kind of praying that since I had a good relationship with JG while hosting him in Deception he might consider passing me whatever advantage he finds lol

okay so ive gathered there are three pretty inactive people on our tribe: vi, ricky, asya I don't think they're inactive per se, I just think they talk less to certain people, but I know Vi and Roxy are friends, and honestly I consider Asya and I pretty good friends too, so idk... Ruben says if we were to lose he'd wanna vote out Vi because Vi hasn't said a single word to him, so we'll see if that could be swung. It'd keep me safe another day teehee

I have never been more disappointed in competition results in my entire game career. The other tribe completely stole the theme and video and won with it ?? The judges literally picked them bc they love the song and they didn’t know it was stolen. I’m so annoyed and upset that we are having to lose another person, it makes me actually angry too. I’m also annoyed that Jared just like didn’t put me in the video. I sent him so many clips, and he used TWO! And I’ve talked around, he did that with other people too. Dan was the star of the video, so much so that the judges complained about not enough tribe participation. I’m not saying I could do a better editing job, I don’t even have a program to do so, however, I want so badly to ask Jared why the fuck he cut me out so much. I don’t even know who we are voting out this round. Ash came to with me an alliance of augusto and drake, which I love ash and augusto, but last round, ash told me drake was saying my name ?? I agreed of course, but I will be very skeptical of him until I know I can trust him. I wish JG didn’t go to ghost island, he’s the one I would want gone the most, just bc he won’t talk to me ever. I guess Frankie would be my next option for voting out? I love dan and I really wanna work with him. I also confided a lot of stuff in Jared last week, which is why I’m so confused why he didn’t put me in the video. I was wanting to work with him but now I’m not sure. I need to look for the idol before tribal tomorrow. I really hope my self vote last round and my absence in the music video doesn’t somehow target me. It would be a good strategy for Jared if he wanted me to look bad tbh.

Isaac is a racist

ALL AMERICANS SHOULD BE NUKED

so uhhhhhhh I wanna cry because I love all these mfs on my tribe. I don't wanna vote out anyone. other than think I THINK IM SAFE tonight because I have augstuo, drake, and sam in an alliance. but like no one is really safe. I don'td knownimmfucking high we are thinking reagan or frankie. personally, I'm thinking reagan because she scares the frick outta me. but I guess we will c

We're swapping tonight and Crooks is going to be on a tribe with Dan...... watch it happen L O L

Those judges sucked. Like wtf was that idk bruh Also I really like Jared and Augusto and can. But I already knew the latter 2. I think,its gonna be frankie and I like Frankie so that sucks. But I like everyone. Tbh it would be smart to vote jared out but you know whatever. I chose to work with him though because I like Nicole so

I’m in a tribe of stars. Cept if I were to make this metaphor they’re all long dead. Unless one is the sun. That’s the winner. I just want to be Pluto ;-;

The game is getting more difficult now that I am faced with going to tribal council. But I know I'm the smartest player on this tribe so I'll be able to figure it out. I went through 10 different phases of thought at work today, but I played my ass off to position myself so let me just date my perspective at this moment- 6 pm, before the 2nd tribal council, November 30th. Here, I'll try to paint a picture of the dynamic. -the nucleus of the tribe **/Dan and Regan's relationship -outer layer **/myself, Augusto, Sam -secret trio (weak trust level) **/myself, JG, Drake -Frankie and Ashen solo-dolo Dan initially floated Drake's name out, but I knew I didn't want that. I chose to bide my time, and everyone was slow to the trigger in terms of suggesting a name. I spent the day heavily cultivating every single relationship, except for Augusto who was not around much. This is fine because our bond is already quite strong. I really worked from the shadows today. I intentionally pressed Drake's insecurities and instilled confidence in him to throw out a name, without ever alluding to someone saying his name. I don't want to give anyone info until I need to, and I don't want anything being traced back to me. I got as much info as I could from Drake. He said prior to my conversation with him, he tossed around the idea of voting Frankie to a few people, and that they responded well. I waited to scout out if it would get back to me. Surely enough, Regan messages me about it. I really leaned into a proposed partnership in this game with Regan. It's unsettling because she can be a loose cannon. We'll see how that goes. I reaffirmed that it is not a bad move to vote Frankie, and slowly the name started to spread. I tried my best to lock it down with everyone without showing a bias. I called with Regan for a bit. I just want her, along with everyone else, to feel as good about me as possible. At this hour it looks like Frankie will be evicted. Things change quickly though. Trust Rankings: 1. Sam (she dangerous tho) 2. Augusto 3. Regan 4. Dan 5. Drake 6. JG 7. Frankie 8. Ashen

Shocker, we lost the immunity challenge! It should be my catchphrase at this point… but anyway, I’m sad we lost and I kind of thought we wouldn’t but not all things can go my way. A lot has happened over the past two days and I feel like I might be at the center of it all in some aspects? Firstly, Ash approached me about an alliance with me, Ash, and Drake which surprised me if I’m honest because Drake and I talk but I didn’t think he’d want to work with me and then I’m also surprised they are close it seems. Furthermore, we added Samantha to our alliance and it is something I’m super happy about since Samantha and I are super close. The only dilemma I have is that I am working with Dan, Jared, Regan, and Frankie as well and that’s basically the entire tribe minus JG, who was conveniently sent to Ghost Island. I love being social and whatnot, but these are the times where I wish I wasn’t AS social. Honestly, I’ve been trying to be more lowkey about it as well like leaving people on seen or going a day without a chat… but even then I can’t seem to make it work. It’d be a shame if my unfinished business remains unfinished if I’m seen as a social threat and am taken out because of it. So yeah, now that JG is away from the tribe I have to choose between people I can work with. In the alliance chat, Ash suggested we voted off Regan which is something I wasn’t super happy about because Regan and I are close and have the same enemies per se (ie. Johnny) and Drake thankfully suggested Frankie lowkey. Frankie is someone who I adore, but he’s too lowkey to ever really work with I think? Plus it makes the most sense to me since he is so quiet and it would be easier to keep tribe unity and not expose me as a player, which is why I tried to push for it somewhat. After we came to that consensus however, the info about Frankie being the target wasn’t given from me to others and that makes me seem lowkey as well (Regan and others told ME that Frankie was the target as if I didn’t know, which is cool). My only hope is that once JG comes back, he stays on our tribe if we lose again so he can be voted out and I can save face with everyone else. We love a complicated game (‘:

OKAY I SWEAR I'M GOING TO WRITE A CONFESSIONAL SOON I'M REALLY BUSY RIGHT NOW SORRY SORRY SORRY

#itsgametimekids

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kishimoto-did-us-dirty · 5 years

Text

Naruto Arts School AU

Character

- major

description

Naruto

-Drums

okie nobody can deny that our main boy over here is a loud soul, however, he can also carry a damn good beat that compliments his band mates’ music really well. Tbh, he sucked at music to begin with and had trouble matching rhythms and listening to his band mates when they played, however he eventually became a really good rhythm maker.

Sasuke

-Guitar (lead)

He’d be assigned to the same band as Naruto, and that’s how they met. This boy is a damn good guitarist y’all, but has attitude problems™, and used to not be able to deal with Naruto’s haphazard beat making, thus perpetuating a rivalry between the two. He constantly feels overshadowed by his elder brother Itachi, a piano major.

Sakura

- Dance

Ya girl fucking demolishes every single dance routine. Initially starting out with a focus on ballet (pre-shippuden in canon), our pink headed queen soon realized that she wasn’t getting the full experience of what it meant to dance. Her point shoes were her loves, however they hurt and nipped in places not just physical. She realized that she didn’t want to be pigeonholed into a genre of which she would be inhibited by standard, and rather to dance so as to forget technical perfection. Thus, what would partner with post-shippuden Sakura in canon, Art School AU Sakura got into hip-hop. And bitch, she goes hard. A lot of the other girls who she used to dance ballet with admire her for her absolutely BODYING her dance routines, but also for never sacrificing her femininity to dance and not taking BS for being a girl who goes so hard in a male-dominated genre. (Some people believe that hip-hop is heavy hitting and a little metaphorically “dark” so to speak, which Sakura is not. So obviously I expect a little disagreement regarding this, however if you look at people like Delaney Glazer or Kaycee Rice, that is how Sakura would dance).

Hinata

- Creative Writing

Shy and bookworm-like, Hinata can write the best poetry, romance and adventure pieces out of all the creative-writing majors. She’s especially good at writing character relationships and development, and has such a subtle sense of intelligent wit in her writing, that if you blinked you would miss it. However should you catch it, you’re sure to chuckle. Her only struggle is that she tends to drag on in important scenes, stretching them against the regular flow of the rest of her writing. Needs validation for her writing through an IV drip.

Kiba

- Drums OR Photography

Drums for obvious reasons (loud and obnoxious), although ruff boi looks good with a camera, too. Great at landscapes and street photography.

Shino

- Creative Writing OR Photography

I could definitely see Shino having fucking beautiful handwriting, and being a beast at writing anything within the sci-fi realm. I could also see him doing some journalism, and writing for the school paper. He’s very good at the logic of his sci-fi books and coming up with logical but enrapturing stories, that intermingle knowledge and mystery. He’s a very specific type of read, however, and may not appeal to all, however if you enjoy anything similar to Star Wars or Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, then Shino is your author. If this doesn’t float your boat, though, try photography-major Shino. He can get the best angles of bugs he sees, and has an extensive portfolio with entomology-related snapshots.

Ino

- Dance

Like Sakura, she, too, began with a focus on ballet, however began to branch out into contemporary ballet a little later than Sakura. This is another reason why Sakura switched her focuses, as she and Ino had always had a fierce rivalry for dieting (ballet dancers are pressured to be as thin as possible) as well as battling for technical perfection when they were ballet focused. As the two grew, Ino focused more so on contemporary, but can certainly do some hip-hop with Sakura every now and then, just as Sakura occasionally takes a contemporary class with her. The two still have a rivalry, however, just not to the previous extent as when they were actively competing against each other. They’re more like sisters.

Shikamaru

- Guitar (bass) OR Creative Writing OR Architecture

Smart boy’s a tricky one. He would either be a bassist, a mystery and historical fiction writer, or, of his school offers it, be great at architecture. Idrk.

Choji

- ermmmmm….. maybe graphic design? Tech theatre (props)? Vocal???

Choji is hARD dwnccnpc (that’s what she said). I could see him behind a computer screen, animating and designing games/covers/posters or whatever. He could also do something in theatre, but I don’t think he would do anything up on stage. Something like props would suit him. He might do something in music, tho???? Can he sing???? Help???

Tenten

- Dance

Always has been, and always will be a hip-hop dancer. She wanted to be like Tsunade, a legendary dancer and followed in her footsteps, taking up hip-hop. (that’s why Sakura focused on hip-hop, too, because Tsunade mentored her and taught a few of her classes, too). Tenten is fast and can keep up with any beat. Not only is she a great dancer, but she’s also athletic, and does track and field (cross country), football, and softball at another school too, since the arts schools doesn’t offer it. Overall great dancer with styl. She’s really looked up to by some of her underclassmen for her cheery, but badass style and skill.

Lee

- DANCE (hip-hop, too)

It’s sweat. It’s burn. It’s energy. It’s Lee.

Neji

- Violin

First chair violinist in his freshman year for the school’s philharmonic orchestra. He be extra like that.

Gaara

- Guitar (bass)

He had a lonely childhood with neglectful/abusive parents, and rock music really helped him with that. Emo music is emo and often made fun of, but the songs have messages and Gaara related, so self-taught himself the bass guitar to help cope, and bring him closer to the music that salvaged him.

Kankuro

-Art

Specifically sculpting. For obvious reasons.

Temari

- Acting

Girl can make you cry with some of her monologues. Total lead. Has a seriousness in her acting that makes her believable, however can falter on the less-serious roles. She may also double-major in whatever Shikamaru does. And she’s better at it than him.

Itachi

-Piano

Boy could play any etude at age 7. Performed at Carnegie Hall when he was 10. And no, he didn’t pay to play there. The hall invited him. Began composing at 9. Has perfect pitch. Owns international awards. If he’s not at school it’s because he’s traveling to play for crowds. He excels at classical and baroque, however has an ear for romantic, and enjoys playing/composing pieces either written or inspired by romantic pieces. Enjoys Schumann, Debussy, and Tchaikovsky. Hates modern classical music, though. Can only take cinematic pieces composed by people like Williams, however can’t stand Prokofiev at all. He does like modern music, though, so long as it’s outside of the orchestral/classical music realm. He likes R&B. He would have liked to do film with Shisui, particularly producing, however his parents pressure him with piano, so he helps Shisui with student films and projects outside of school (will probably pursue film after graduating, tho).

Shisui

- FILM / VIDEO PRODUCTION

Fight me on this!!! THIS BOY IS SO GOOD AT CINEMATOGRAPHY MY FILMMAKING ASS CAN’T EVEN. AS SOMEONE WHO IS IN LOVE WITH FILMOGRAPHY, TRUST ME, SHISUI HAS IT™. THE IT™. HE’S GOOD AT EVERYTHING. CINEMATOGRAPHY. DIRECTING. SCREENWRITING. GRIP-WORK. EDITING. PRODUCING. HE’S SUCH A FILM NERD TOO, AND WATCHES OLD FILMS ALL THE TIME. HE’S JUST TOO GOOD AT IT. DOES STREET PHOTOGRAPHY TOO. HE’S OVERALL A GENIUS WITH CAMERAS. Does film with Itachi outside of school and teaches him, and the two are overall geniuses at filmography. They want to start their own studio together (they do, and it becomes huge). He becomes a leading director, while Itachi becomes a producer and directs sometimes too.

Sasori, Deidara, and Sai

Guess.

Kakashi

- Saxophone

It’s the only thing that suits him and it suits him so well. Has suave.

Obito (omfg his arms y'all)

- Not to say drums or anything, but…. drums.

Narutard 2.0. But he also dabbles in other areas of music. Like, he can also play guitar and sing. He’s also pretty good at music production. Makes R&B sometimes. He wasn’t always the best musician but proved to be a late bloomer, and really harnessed his potential. Tries to be as suave as Kakashi and his saxophone. He isn’t.

Hashirama

- Vocal

OkaYYYYYY. VOCAL GOD. CAN DO RIFFS AND RUNS AND HAS PERFECT PITCH. ALSO THE SWEETEST GUY??? WAS A CHAMBER SINGER AS A FRESHMAN. EVERYONE LOVES HIM, GOOD BOY ENERGY.

Likes to belt.

Madara

- Piano

Total prodigy, but hates classical music. Once was accompanist to Hashirama for a solo vocal performance and hasn’t been left alone since.

Tobirama

- Viola or Cello

Some sort of string instrument and takes it very seriously. Probably plays cello because violas are violas and that’s lame (if you know, you know). Has almost as many awards as Itachi and Madara, but hates his usual piano accompanist, Izuna.

Izuna

- Piano

Also a piano god. The uchihas breed them. Hates being accompanist for Tobirama. They’re secretly best friends though, don’t tell anyone.

Karin

- Tech Theatre.

Idk why. Probably started out with props and made her way up to TD (technical director) in senior year.

Suigetsu

- Tech Theatre

Fucking hates theatre kids (I feel that (I used to be one so don’t come at me)). Assistant TD. Karin hates him.

Jugo

- Visual Art

Paints landscapes and nature. Really good with oils and gouache respectively.

Yamato

- lmao Trumpet.

Met Kakashi since they both play brass, but boy he ain’t got that suave. That’s why he plays trumpet. Lmao he plays the fucking trumpet anjdwcnojdnn.

Rin

- Vocal

Sweetest voice and could also play the acoustic guitar when she sang. Died in a car accident junior year. Kakashi was at the wheel when they got hit by a drunk driver. Obito saw the whole thing.

Kurenai

- Visual Art

Can create dream like paintings that almost seem like illusions.

Asuma

- Cello / guitar

Used to play cello because of his parents, but loves to play guitar. Can sing but his voice is raspy from smoking.

Gai

Who the fuck do you think teaches dance?

Jiraiya

- Guitar (lead)

Used to major in lead guitar. Sucked at first. Probably has a couple, casual Grammy Awards (they’re actually not that hard to be awarded with, The Recording Academy award many people outside of mainstream media. My school has a few). Now teachers as head of the Band department at this school.

Tsunade

-Dance

Legendary dancer. Probably toured with a few famous people. Now teachers. Mentored Sakura, and mentored Ino but for a shorter time.

Orochimaru

- Idk, didgeridoo, or some shit

Definitely a wood wind. Flute maybe??? Teaches now but no one knows what he does. Pedophile. Has a thing for Sasuke.

And that’s that!! Feel free to send in more requests!! Tell me what you think~

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joons-expensive-gurl · 8 years

Text

Cendrillion

Pairing: Hoseok X Reader Genre: Drama, Romance Warnings: attempted murder, cheesy af. This takes place in some old time period. Idk when tho. It’s also (very loosely) based off of this [ https://youtu.be/_NSEjt8VjsE ] so I highly suggest watching it. Yes, I’m back into vocaloid. What happened to me?!

Edit: I’m gonna edit this in the morning so bear with any grammar mistakes for now. Sorry folks, I wanted it out on our loved Hobi’s birthday

~^*^~

A gentle knock at your door caused you to rise from the comfy armchair. Slowly, you padded towards the front door, seeing no form of a person. You frowned. Twisting the gold handle, you pulled the door towards you, allowing cold air to rush through you. No one. You looked down.

On the floor was a satin cloth, with a knot at the top. You looked around. There was no one. So, you bent down, picking the package up. It was slightly heavy, but mostly empty. Something inside jingled quietly. You took it back to your living room where you placed it on the table. Taking a breath, you undid the knots. You gasped. Inside was a pocket watch and a dagger. Who on earth would leave this for you?

With a gentle hand, you picked up the pocket watch, turning it around to flip it over. The tiny clock inside was yellowing with age, numbers all in Roman numerals. The hands stopped at 10 o'clock. But the thing that made your eyes almost bulge out of your skull was the small picture at the top of Prince Hoseok. The Prince was smiling brightly. You, however, had a complete look of shock on your face. Looking from the dagger to the picture, it clicked. Someone wanted you to murder the prince. But who? Why? You didn’t know.

You knew when, though.

There was a ball coming up. A huge ball, in fact. The annual peace ball. How ironic - you had to murder at a celebration of peace.

For days, you pondered if you should do it or not. What was in it for you? This person, how did they know you’d do it? What on earth were they thinking?

It wasn’t until two days before the ball when you made your mind up. Just as you were dozing off, you heard the clatter of your letter box. It caused you to jump up, eyes widening. Cautiously, you sat waiting to hear the crunching of the stone path, but it never came. They must’ve fled trough the grass. You pushed the covers off of you, lighting the small candle on your bedside table. Draping a blanket around you, you took a deep breath. Then as you picked up the candle in its small holder, you gently moved through the halls.

Once you reached the front door, you caught the white parchment lying on the floor. With a cautious hand, you picked it up and placed the candle on the desk placed against the wall. Then you tore it open. In scrawled, messy handwriting was the message:

‘Time ticks on, Almost there The prince who smiles Won’t be aware A blade that’s sharp Eyes are sharper Go to the ball Kill the charmer

The price will be high But so will the honours If you complete the task Award to you will be 10 million dollars’

You scowled.

$10 million was a lot of money. But, the prince was also the kindest human the kingdom knew. He was valiant, charming, strong, humorous, and much more. He was a soul that shouldn’t be taken from this cruel world; especially not by murder.

But the money.

You had debts to be paid, sick family to be cured. With that amount of money, you could flee, find somewhere else to live and forget what you did. It was a simple task. Get the prince alone, and stab him to death. Quick. Painful, though.

It could be done.

~^*^~

“Will you be requiring assistance to the ball, miss [Last]?” A maid asked. “Not today. Thank you though.” “No problem, at all. I’ll wait up for you.” “Really, there’s no need.” “Oh there’s every need. We must make sure you get home safely.” “Well, thank you. I’ll see you tonight.” “Have a fun evening, miss!”

Stalking from your room, you hurriedly moved to the living room. Luckily there was no one there. Your parents were away, most maids and servants in the house occupied elsewhere. So, looking around to ensure no one was looking, you pushing up the second cushion of the sofa, ripping it from wooden base and revealing the watch and the knife. You slipped the knife carefully into your stocking and with the watch, you slipped it over your head and onto your neck. It was cold against your skin. There was a noise, causing you to fast and shove the cushion back down, stuffing the watch down the top of your dress.

“Miss? Are you still here, miss?” That stupid maid. “Sorry, yes. I just forgot a ring.” You held up your finger, twisting a random ring before chuckling nervously. “Alright. Well I suggest you be off. The ball’s about to start and I bet all the young men will want a dance with the likes of yous.”

Flushing red, you excused yourself.

The carriage ride was slow. It was painfully slow, dragging out. As you got closer, your heart rate increased. You were actually going to do this. You were going to murder the prince. What a sin.

Looking up to the darkening sky, you sighed. It was beginning to rain, small drops of rain splashing against the mud road. The scent of earth raised into the atmosphere. It was a beautiful, calming scent. Like nature was enticing you to join it.

The forests around you thinned until what was left was a cobble road and the trail up to the majestic Jung Palace. It was a beautiful, intricately designed, humongous building, completely white except for the black balconies that lined the larger windows. The wheels cracked against the cobble as they move up the hill towards the palace. Noise here was beginning to get louder, moving away from the sounds of birds singing before bed to the hustle of a busy town. People were buzzing. This ball was a big deal, after all. You gulped as some people recognised your carriage.

You stared down at your dress. It was burgundy in colour and complimented your skin tone beautifully. The material wrapped around itself a multitude of times, creating large Us in the fabric. Lining each beautiful arc was black lace, which also crept from the underside of the dress as well. At the back, the material came up into a large bow, flowing underneath was many, many layers of black lace. The top of your dress was a love heart line, slightly showing off some skin. The sleeves of your dress were thick, falling off from your shoulders, staying put just underneath. They, too, were a few layers of burgundy material, swooping down to create small Us, also lined with black lace. Your hair was up in a intricate bun at the back of your head, complete with black fake diamonds and a large, burgundy rose headpiece with black tulle that came down to cover your eyes. To finish up, you had large, black headed necklaces on and many rings and bracelets to show your wealth. You looked the part - an innocent woman.

But snug between your breasts was an image of your target, and pressing against the smooth skin of your leg was the weapon to kill him with.

Stoic, you stepped out of the carriage, looking up at the palace. Women rushed past you, up the winding steps of the palace towards the open large, wooden doors. Guards lined the stairs and the doors, eyeing every person who moved past, occasionally bowing to the most important. Some people stopped to stare at you, in complete awe. You didn’t take any notice, heels clicking as you moved up and into the palace.

The palace was stunning inside as well as out. A red rug lined every hallway, all lit with ginormous, beautiful (obviously expensive) chandeliers. Some decor lined the hall, but for the most part they were empty. However, paintings lined the walls. Some were of scenic views, others were of royal family members. The one that caught your eye was of the younger prince, who stood grinning, one hand on the handle of his sword which was sheathed on his belt line.

“Handsome little thing, wasn’t he?” A voice came beside you. You turned, recognising the man as Prince Min Yoongi of the Daegu province. He was of a similar status as your kingdom’s royal family. “Ah, your highness.” You bowed. “No need for that, dear maiden.” “I am no maiden,” you chuckled, “I’m Lady [First] of Gwangju.” “My Lady.” He bowed, “forgive me.” “Also, with me, there is no need to bow. Do you know our Prince well?” You smiled. “We’re very close, me and Hobi. Share the same passion of music. Very easy to bond over.” “I see. And does yourself or Prince Hoseok have a voice of pure gold?” You teased. “Not really, though we are excellent in the art of rap.” “Rap?” You raise an eyebrow, completely unfamiliar with this variety of music. “Yes, rap. It’s where you say words at a certain pace to beat. I find it very stress relieving.” “I must listen to you rap, one day your highness.” “It would be my pleasure, my Lady."The sound of horns cut you off, signalling the start of the ball. "I suppose we should go and join the rest of the population of this palace in the ballroom?” “I suppose so. Hoseok will have my head on a plate if I’m not there for his speech.” “Well, what are you waiting for? He may be smiling in that portrait but if your words are no lie, he won’t be smiling in real life.”

He only chuckled, taking your arm as he lead you deeper into the palace to the ballroom. The doors were open, showcasing the hundreds of people who were stood watching the stage where the royal family stood. The King stood in the middle, Queen on his left, Princess on her left and the Prince on the King’s right. Prince Yoongi waved, to which Prince Hoseok flashed a smile.

“I better go to the front to greet my friend when he’s done.” Prince Yoongi whispered to you. “I’ll stay here. I’m not one to dance.” “We’ll see about that in approximately 15 minutes.”

He pushed his way through the people, slowly getting closer to the front of the room. All the while, the king droned on about the history behind this ball. The queen and princess both had their turns thanking everyone for coming and then Prince Hoseok stepped forwards. He flashed a big, toothy smile to which some ladies swooned at.

“I would like to thank the kingdom for attending tonight. I believe that the Peace Ball is a large part of why Gyangju is such an amazing kingdom and it’s also a reason as to why I’m so proud to be future king. I sincerely hope every single person enjoys the evening, we’ve prepared the most delicious foods and beverages so enjoy that. And of course, just enjoy yourselves. This is a night to be proud of where we come from. Thank you!”

When the speech was over, music began and the floor cleared slightly to allow many couples to begin dancing. You watched as Prince Hoseok jumped from the stage, down to a group of six other princes. You recognised them as Prince Kim Seokjin of Gwacheon, Prince Yoongi, Prince Kim Namjoon of Ilsan, Prince Park Jimin of Busan, Prince Kim Taehyung of Daegu and Prince Jeon Jungkook of Busan. Prince Taehyung and Jungkook were not royal by blood, but royal by marriage.

~^*^~

A few hours later, and the ball was in full swing. You sat on a chair, shoulders back, back straight. You had to look elegant. You had to appeal to Prince Hoseok. The knife pressing into your neck reminded you of that.

People spun around you, dancing and laughing to the music. Fathers of men hoping to sell their daughters to wealthy men in he form of marriage stood around the large buffet table, gulping down the finest of wines and eating the most expensive of foods. You scoffed at them. It was a cheap tactic that somehow managed to work.

You looked up as a shadow came upon you. Prince Yoongi stood above you, smiling in a friendly manner.

“Care for a dance, my Lady?” He smiled. “I already told you, I’m not the dancing kind.” “Please, your posture says all. Now, enlighten me in one dance and I promise I’ll prevent anyone else disturbing your privacy for the rest of the evening.” “Promise?” “I promise, my Lady, you have my word.” “One dance. Only one.” “Of course.”

Graciously, you stood up, taking his hand. Next to each other, you moved to the centre of the dance floor where you turned to face each other. One of his arms snaked around your waist, the other coming up to lace fingers with you. Your free hand came go hold up your dress in order to move. When the next song started mere seconds later, Prince Yoongi had you waltzing around the ballroom. A few couples stopped, watching in envy as you both effortlessly moved around the room. It was as if you were on a piece of floor that just glided you around. You didn’t notice two dark eyes watching, intrigued as he continued to talk to his small group of friends.

When the song came to an end, you and Prince Yoongi bowed to each other.

“Thank you for the excellent dance, my Lady.” “And thank you, your highness.” “I will escort you back to your chair.” “Oh there’s no need for that, thank you though.” “Are you sure?” “I am more of capable than walking a few metres back to my seat, Prince Yoongi.” “Of course.”

As you began to walk, you heard a person call you.

“My Lady! Lady [First]!”

You turned, coming face to face with Prince Hoseok.

“Prince Hoseok, how may I be of service?” You bowed to him. “You must indulge me in this next dance, Lady [First].” He smiled. “Actually, Lady [First] is engaged for the rest of the evening.” Prince Yoongi stepped in. “Ah really? With who?” “With that dashing chair,” you pointed to the chair a few metres away from you, “just over there.” “Lady [First], I hardly find it fair that you indulge my friend Yoongi in a beautiful dance, but not your own Prince. My, am I offended.” “Your highness, if you insist, I will accompany you in one dance.” “You will?” His entire face lit up. For a split second, you forget your motives. “But only one.” “Of course.”

He bowed, holding out his hand which you took. Prince Yoongi disappeared into the crowd. Together, you and Prince Hoseok swept across the room, dancing more beautifully and gracefully than you and Prince Yoongi did. The entire room came to a halt to watch yours and Prince Hoseok’s beautiful dance. The music played on to the end, when you came to your finishing pose. It was then that Prince Hoseok placed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Time stopped as did your heart. The knife was cutting into your skin. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t kill him. He had a heart of pure gold. The clock chimed 10. You were supposed to have done it now. You broke away from him, stepping back. His eyes widened as he realised his honest mistake. You ran. Arms and legs pounding, you navigated your way back towards the entrance of the palace. You could hear his cries as he raced after you. But you were long gone. As you ran down the steps of the palace, you tore the pocket watch necklace off, throwing it to the ground. You practically jumped into the carriage, screaming to the driver to go. The horses came to life, bolting off, taking he carriage with them.

Prince Hoseok rushed, one arm behind his back as a prince should, the other in front of him. As he came to the steps, he noticed the watch. He bent down, clasping it in his hands before straightening up. Then he clicked it open, gasping as he saw a small image of himself. What were you planning to do…?

~^*^~

When you returned home, you brushed your maid off, telling her she could go home which she did. You were finally alone. For the first ten minutes, you simply collapsed on your sofa and cried. You were angry, upset, confused. Why couldn’t you kill him? Why did you back out? Why did he kiss you?

You stuffed your hand down your sticking, pulling out the knife. The money came into your mind. You had to do this. You couldn’t back out. No, you weren’t going to back out.

~^*^~

A full hour later and you were ready to go. You had swapped your ballgown for a little black dress, fishnet stockings, and black ankle boots. You had let your hair down, putting it into two pigtails that began at your earlobe.

You eyed the dagger which was on your lap. A tear - which you weren’t sure what it was from - slipped down your cheek. Reaching to your bedside table, you opened the bottom draw, revealing a black mask with a black ribbon which you tied around your head into a bow. You then took the dagger, pushing it into your stocking at the thigh which was covered by your dress.

A deep breath in. You stood up.

~^*^~

The palace was now abandoned by almost all. The guards were still outside, but still allowed you in despite the ball have ended. After all, you were high up in the hierarchy.

Your footsteps echoed the palace halls as you tried to find Prince Hoseok. First you looked through the ballroom, which was now completely empty and dark. Then you tried the throne room which was equally empty.

A few rooms later and you’d found him. The dining room. He was sat alone, facing away from you. Though, he wasn’t eating. He was thinking about you. About how you’d fled. The watch, which was in his hand. He was so confused, so deep in thought that he didn’t hear your footsteps.

He only noticed you when a hand wrapped around the back of his chair. He jumped, standing up and turning to face you. You had the mask on, so he didn’t recognise you.

You used one hand to push him back on to the table. Then, you pulled out the knife once he was lying on the table. He only looked up at you, too shocked to speak. The room was silent. You held the knife to his neck. He stopped breathing. So did you.

Then he did the unthinkable.

Moving a hand to the back of your head, he undid the bow, gently taking the mask off of your face. His eyes widened.

“It’s you…” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You lifted the knife up, squeezing your eyes shut. But you couldn’t find the will within you to force it down, to cut off the blood supply to his head. To off him. Instead, you collapsed on his chest, clutching the knife to your chest as you sobbed, all of the emotions coming out of you. What had you been thinking? Were you crazy?

His arms wrapped around yours.

“Anything… I’ll give you anything…” he whispered. “Just don’t tell a soul,” you sobbed, “I don’t want to go to jail.” “I won’t tell a soul, Lady [First]. No one.”

You sobbed in his arms like that until there was nothing left to let out. And even then to continued to whimper.

He never did tell a soul about what happened that night.

But he did tell everyone just a few years later about how he was madly in love with the woman who snuck back into the castle after that ball to steal his heart.

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