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#iris oc hours
beantothemax · 11 months
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[continued]
The Final Dungeon: Liar’s Mausoleum
No minimap in this dungeon nosirree
Also there is fog EVERYWHERE. You can see a couple in-game metres in front of you, tops
And the cave itself is designed specifically to be frustrating to navigate
Lots of dead ends and weird interconnected paths
This is due to the fact that I am mean and cannot think of a better gimmick, so I am going to make the player suffer
teehee!
Honestly, that may do it for the notes of the dungeon
I don’t think there are any eye-themed enemies in octopath so I don’t know what the enemies are gonna be
Alas.
At the end of the dungeon, there’s a large chamber marked with double-doors
Yeah they put doors in the cave. Deal with it.
As you enter, Ekaterina asks you to stop. She has a plan.
She is very clearly supposed to be dead, so showing her face in front of the seer is gonna be bad news
Instead, Praem should go in alone, with Ekaterina waiting right outside
Praem is to claim that Ekaterina is dead if asked to get info out of the seer
With Ekaterina just out of sight, Ekaterina kicks down the door (because she has the right to be a little dramatic in this situation), revealing the seer standing with three other robed figures
“Prophet.”
“Ah, so you’ve come at last to where you were always meant to be. Good, good. Is the job finished?”
“Yes. The razor is broken.”
“Excellent… all in accordance to what was written…”
It pains me that octopath does not give me a way to have Praem’s eye twitch but she’s on the verge of flipping her shit here. This is confirmation of everything that could have gone wrong has done exactly that.
“Regardless, what end does this serve?” [stage directions: Praem switches sprites here to one with her hand at her sword] “Why are we doing this?”
The Prophet laughs. “You shall see, Blade of Mist. You shall see.”
Praem, rather than responding to that, draws her sword and immediately downs one of the robed figures
“Ekaterina! Now!”
Ekaterina rushes the room and the two stand back-to-back from one another
“False prophet, who wrote it? Who wrote that my fate was to sacrifice an innocent woman?”
“You… deceiver! How dare you betray his cause!”
“I am not beholden to any such cause, so I will ask this. Will you answer me, or will you submit to your death by my blade?”
“He had planned all of this so meticulously… You needed only follow the fate he had planned… How could you do this?”
Praem takes a step forward. “If there is one thing that recent events have taught me, it is that the fool’s tale you call ‘fate’ is naught but smoke and mirrors. Give. Me. An. Answer.”
“You… blasphemer… How DARE YOU DISGRACE HIS NAME. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE OUR SHINING BEACON, OUR GREATEST GENERAL! MEN! BRING ME THIS HERETIC’S BLOOD. THE MASTER WILL BE MOST PLEASED.”
The two cultists and the Prophet rush Praem and Ekaterina, transitioning into…
AND SO THE MIST BILLOWS OUT OF THE SHATTERED MIRROR
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spaceratprodigy · 4 months
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[ cropped 😇 ] — @grimreapersbutt
oh, he loves helping his wife in the kitchen *checks notes* cook dinner, yeah, that's what's happening here, don't worry abt it <3
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withheartsaligned · 3 months
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zeloinator · 10 months
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__ The Doomed Protector__
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mushroom-for-art · 11 months
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Hi @bluejay-flies! I saw your Iris that you sent to Quin and much like Quin I thought gosh isn't she adorable! So here you go!
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jinx-blackout-84 · 3 months
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Having ocs is so great because it's like yeah this is my emotional support guy. I made him up. Yeah I just draw him on everything. Yeah I kick him whe im bored. He's kinda traumatized but don't worry about that.
#jinx screams into the void#Atlasposting hours#Guys ypu don't understand how attatched I am to this OC#He used to be a dsmp self insert#And then I read passerine and became briefly insane#So now he's a God#And then things got out of hand#And now I'm writing a book series about hum and seven other ocs I made up#And if I even hear their names I will spontaneously combust and give everyone in the 10 foot blast radius autism#Because I am so autistic about them you guys have no idea#Ask me about theo's motifs#Ask me about the way that Auren's fold is used to represent love within the series#Ask me about how Theo's crown change ties into the Cursed Forest#Ask me about Atlas's deer motifs#Ask me about how when Jasper talks she is so confused by the thousands of voices no one else can hear that she ends up talking in riddles#Ask me about how Tripp's bracelet represents a tie to the times before he had killed thousands#Back when him and Juno would hunt together#And everything was okay#Ask me about what wing type Auren has and his fucked up shoulders that allow for more wing mobility#Ask about how nobody knows what Japser looks like because you can't actually focus your eyes on her because#She is the amalgamation of all of the things that have died in that forest#And ask me how Atlas's forks in his Antlers represent the times he's done things he finds to be moraly reprehensible#Ask me about Iris's hands and how they drip constellations into the universe and weave lives together#*immediately dies*
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lilyware · 1 year
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my bandime (band anime) daughters ....... i love them......(1) (2)
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pyjamaenzel · 1 year
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HD Tekla.
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oukabarsburgblr · 4 months
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drabble...
FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC), DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader
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"I c-can't! I can't do this anymo- anghh! I can't cum anymore- aahn!"
His throat was sore from moaning, his neck bare with bite marks and hickies littering (s/c) and his legs were spread and forcefully held up by the redhead behind him. Said redhead tightened his grip under (m/n)'s knees, kissing his hair. "You can do more. We know you can." Sousuke mumbled.
Daisuke was panting, his pale skin now flushed pink with his eyes fixated on the twitching cum-filled hole he was fingering. (m/n) was crying, his cheeks wet and his bottom sore.
They've been at it for hours in this small janitor room. Their school clothings discarded aside, Sousuke was currently behind (m/n) on the floor, leaning against a closet and holding the (h/c)'s legs up, rubbing his dick on his (s/c) back.
Daisuke was on his knees, fishing out the redhead's cum from (m/n)'s hole with his fingers, frantically flicking his wrists and jabbing his digits in and out, rubbing against his rim, eager to enter the (h/c) for the nth time that evening.
(m/n)'s legs were sore, his thighs ached and his mouth was stretched open half an hour ago, two dicks competitively pushing past his lips. Even while having sex, the two were still childish and would argue for the smallest things.
"You're so hot, (m/n)." Daisuke kissed his chest. "So sexy." He purred, licking a stripe on his nipple, laying his tongue flat and teasingly dripped his saliva on the sensitive bud. "D-Daisuke- mmnhh! Enough please! Just finish up already- anghh!"
He mewled when Sousuke poked his tongue into his ear, licking and biting the shell and occasionally thrusting into the canal. This made him squirm against Sousuke, accidentally rubbing his backside onto the redhead's red and leaking tip.
"I'm gonna go in now." Daisuke grinned lewdly, his shirt was gone and there was only his briefs hanging on his hips, exposing his fat chest which had multiple teeth marks courtesy of (m/n).
The (h/c)'s head was hot and dizzy, his skin was warm but leaning against Sousuke's own burned even more, the redhead went wild on him earlier but now he was treating him like glass. Kissing and pampering (m/n) while rubbing his thighs as Daisuke slipped his wet dick inside the (h/c)'s slobbering hole.
"Ah aungh mmnn- f-fuck it's too much!" He threw his head back, his forehead sticky as he locked eyes with hazel, Sousuke gazing into (m/n), his long red bangs sticking to his face. The room was dark and small but he could still see the glint behind those hazel iris.
"Focus on me, (m/n). I'm the one fucking you right now." Daisuke roped the (h/c)'s lips into a kiss, pushing in deep inside him before pulling out slightly and began to pound his hips, thrusting inside (m/n)'s messy and twitchy hole. "D-Daisuke- mmff! Mnng haa!" He squealed when he felt Sousuke biting his neck, imprinting the shape of his fangs on his skin.
Sousuke's cock was rubbing harshly against the (h/c)'s lower back every time Daisuke pounded into (m/n). The bottom could feel the precum slobbering against his ass and dripping onto the wooden floor. The smell of sex was strong and evident, filling (m/n)'s senses as he opened his mouth in shock when Sousuke began to jerk him off, pinching his sensitive tip, forcing the (h/c) to cum.
(m/n) whimpered, his tongue getting sucked by Daisuke as milky semen shot from his tip, splattering all over the ravenette's stomach. His anus tightened and Daisuke moaned in surprise as he shoved his hips into (m/n)'s, his hands gripping his waist as he came inside the (h/c) while his tip was kissing his prostate.
The (h/c) panted, his tongue flat against his chin Sousuke pulled his hair, angling his head so he could kiss him. Their tongues were hot and lapping up against one another as Daisuke pushed Sousuke to the side to join the sloppy make out.
(m/n) choked, feeling two wet muscles probing his mouth, his own tongue weak and flat while thw two were shoving themselves against his teeth, his gums, his palate. Their salivas were dripping into his throat, forcing him to swallow their spit. Daisuke began to grind his cock that was still inside him, urging to start again before the redhead pushed his stomach.
"My turn." Sousuke gleamed as he pulled (m/n) onto his lap, angling his cock before letting him sit plush on the tip. "I c-can't. I really can't cum anymore." He whined, gasping and arching his back when he took half of the redhead's base in, slowly swallowing it inch by inch.
"You keep saying that seven rounds ago. Think' you can still take more." Sousuke teased the (h/c), his eyes concentrated on the plush of his ass meeting his crotch. "You're so f-fucking mean-" (m/n) whimpered before Daisuke comforted him, cooing at the (h/c) as he peppered kisses all over his face.
The ravenette took his spent penis and grabbed his own, slowly jacking them off at once as (m/n) mewled. He felt his jaw grabbed from behind as Sousuke whispered into his ear. "So I'm gonna start on the count of-"
His hips were pulled upwards before it was slammed on Sousuke's large thighs, making the (h/c) scream as the redhead began to force him to bounce on his hard cock. He was rough and loved to tease (m/n) whenever Daisuke was around, the ravenette frowning as he yelled at Sousuke for being an asshole.
More tears dripped from his lower lashes, staining his cheeks with salt other than the cum both of them had shot on his face earlier. (m/n) was having a hard time breathing, his walls were roughly dragged against Sousuke's base, his tip stabbing his insides. The redhead was only mean and rough whenever Daisuke was around weirdly enough.
Said ravenette began to shove his tongue inside the (h/c)'s mouth, swallowing his cries as the redhead behind him was enjoying the sight of his ass tightening and bouncing against his crotch. Cum dripped on his skin, he loved it when (m/n)'s hole was wet and dirty, loud squelching noises entered his ears every time he thrusted.
(m/n) didn't even realise when he alone had started riding Sousuke, his waist being gripped by scarred hands and his body was bending down. His lips were dry as his head was bobbing up and down on Daisuke's cock, the ravenette moaning loudly while gripping his hair.
Salty semen coated his tongue as he slobbered all over Daisuke's cock, his eyes and body tired as Sousuke continued playing with his ass. His cock was left twitching, drooling watery cum from his tip and he flinched when he felt his the dick in he was sucking came, choking and swallowing the semen that poured into his mouth.
Sousuke thrusted up against him one last time and he stilled, pulling out and spraying his dirty cum all over (m/n)'s ass. His bottom was now wet, dripping and had marks all over his skin. Daisuke also gently pulled his head up, his saliva connecting his tongue and the ravenette's tip as said person wiped the cum that dripped from his lips.
"Good job, (m/n). You're so good to us." He could only mumble back to Daisuke, his head blank and foggy. Sousuke kneeled properly behind him while propping him up. "You did great. The best for me. And for him."
He spoke while kissing his jaw. The (h/c) numbly nodded while Daisuke began to wipe him down and Sousuke moved to grab his clothes. He let the two take care of him, letting his fatigue catch up to his body as he promptly passed out. A rare sight of the redhead and ravenette working together to take care of the tired (h/c).
[END SCENE]
[unedited]
Afterthoughts :
I got horny during separation process class. So boring but im learning ig. Imma disappear for the next two weeks but i think ill post another drabble in the next two days or so. I made this in two hours so it was a bit trashy or so.
It was hard to find a picture I liked. I think I'll replace it soon. I only like coloured pictures but manhwas threesomes panels are so fucking ugly I can't💀
Until then!
Edit: NOT ME GETTING FLAGGED RAHHHH💀💀 IVE BEEN WAITING. I still dont like the new picture and i will change it idc☺️
Edit 2: this ones better (?) the position is accurate too. Is this one getting flagged too?😭🙏🏼
Taglist : @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @syyyy4ever
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sebastard69 · 2 years
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Ktisis + Brio is going to make me way too powerful
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beantothemax · 11 months
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[part 3/3 of praem chapter 4]
The fight transitions directly into a cutscene of the two locked in pitched combat
Both of them look significantly worse for wear, but things get much worse for Praem as Ekaterina relieves her of her sword
Leaving her with just her dagger
She gets a glimpse of how she could finish the job. She sees herself plunging the dagger into Ekaterina’s heart
She misses on purpose.
Moments later comes another vision. She misses again.
Ekaterina asks why she’s taunting her. Why she’s fighting like an amateur.
A third vision comes. Clearer than before
Ekaterina has been backed up against the wall of the cave.
Praem winds back, going for the finishing blow.
Ekaterina yells out Praem’s name. The final aspect of the vision that had not yet come true.
She screams “ENOUGH” and slams the dagger into the wall of the cave
The force of the blow is enough to shatter the blade, and probably mess up her hand real good in the process
“Ekaterina! Why do you not get it?! I have no intention of killing you!”
Seeing Praem break her own weapon when she had the chance to kill her gives Ekaterina pause
“I am a prisoner to this fate as much as you are. Please… just…”
Praem stops for a moment, but then gives up.
“Thank you for listening. I think, for your sake and for mine, we need end this.”
She kneels and uncovers the back of her neck
“End this wretched story of ours.”
Ekaterina places the tip of her rapier to Praem’s neck, closes her eyes, gets a “…” thought bubble…
And then sheaths her sword.
“Something is wrong, Praem.”
Praem looks up. “What? Pray tell?”
“This is not your fate any longer.”
“Tell me, what was it that you saw?”
Praem gives Ekaterina the full download on her vision. Footsteps on wet stone, a waterfall in front of a stone tablet, a pained look written on her face, a dagger in her chest
All of it had come true, but…
“The dagger is gone, Praem. How is this fate to come to pass?”
That’s the final “oh shit” moment for Praem
She was… wrong.
The vision was false.
She gets up and immediately starts crying tears of relief into Ekaterina’s shoulder
She was so scared. She had to kill her friend, but not by her own will. She was doomed to do it.
But no longer.
The two stop to patch each other up, and rest for a while.
Praem wakes up with Ekaterina’s coat draped over her, and Ekaterina wakes up with Praem’s cape draped over her
Because of course they would.
There, sitting next to the efface with Praem’s fate written on it, the two turn to planning
There’s something very wrong with the situation at hand
Whoever wrote down that prophecy is to blame, yes, but who would it be?
The two decide to make a rubbing of it before leaving
Oh, and just one more thing.
The seer is, technically speaking, the one who lead them here.
Why would he do that? Did he know?
He said that he was headed north, to the Peaklands, to a town called Skyglass
He is going to have answers for this, whether he likes it or not.
praem fighting against her fate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! refusing to bow to her visions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGH!!!!!!
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IRIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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onlyswan · 9 months
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summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k
playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers
content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(
in which masterlist!
note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺
the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.
with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.
he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.
“hi, baby. are you almost done?”
he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.
“what?”
“hi, baby. are you almost done?”
“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”
jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?
it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.
he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.
“is there anything else you want to eat?”
you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.
a kiss is granted to your forehead.
when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.
“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.
you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.
jungkook thinks you’re so cool.
you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.
you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.
there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.
his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.
because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.
“juwon?”
the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.
and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.
the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.
the slap thins out into a ringing noise.
“are you insane?!”
it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.
it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.
“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”
you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.
“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”
“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”
“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”
he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.
“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”
the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.
“jungkook!”
before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.
your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?
“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”
“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”
“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.
“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”
your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.
“stop it! you’re scaring me!”
that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.
“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.
“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”
he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…
“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”
he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.
“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”
your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.
“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”
and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.
you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?
“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.
but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.
“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”
“dude, how are you still speaking?!”
it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.
“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”
jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.
and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.
“baby, let’s go back.”
he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.
“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”
“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”
his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.
“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”
“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”
“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”
that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.
“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”
oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.
jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.
“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”
“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“
he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.
so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.
he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.
“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”
you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.
ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.
“get in, ____.”
and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.
you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?
you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.
juwon was right, you never change.
“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.
“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”
“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”
“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”
you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.
you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.
“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”
“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.
“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”
for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.
“a sofa?”
“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.
he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”
“quiet!”
he winces. “sorry, hyung!”
you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.
“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.
“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”
“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”
your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.
“he’s not worth it.”
“you are to me.” he declares.
it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.
“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”
he gazes at you with longing.
you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.
“are we really not going to talk about this?”
“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”
“baby…”
“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”
foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.
“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”
jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.
he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?
wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.
shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.
he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.
“you loved me too. once.”
however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.
and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.
you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.
you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.
“yah! why are doing just standing there?”
the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.
“i told you to stop doing that!”
jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.
“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”
“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”
that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.
the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.
“what happened to your face?”
fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.
“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.
“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”
“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”
your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.
“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”
“it’s for jungkook,” you add.
“doesn’t he have that?”
“it’s not here,”
your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.
“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”
“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.
he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”
“anywhere else?”
“nope!”
“sooo, do you have it or not?”
“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”
he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.
“thank you!”
“you’re welcome!”
despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.
a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.
how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.
stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.
you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.
you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?
you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.
“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”
“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”
“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”
you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.
“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”
it does hurt.
“thank you…” you reply shyly.
you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.
“baby, where did you go?”
jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.
he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.
“nowhere,”
you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.
his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.
a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.
he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.
“i love you.”
“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.
your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.
for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”
“let’s go,”
he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.
“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”
“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”
eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.
you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.
the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.
no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.
you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?
…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.
you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.
“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”
incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.
“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”
you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.
echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.
it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.
jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.
you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.
“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”
“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”
“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”
“did you box again?”
the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.
“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”
he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”
“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”
you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.
you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.
you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.
“why are you trying so hard?”
your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.
jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.
“there’s no one to fight.”
“turns out there is,” he argues.
he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.
“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”
stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.
but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.
they almost sound like a plead.
“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”
strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.
“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.
“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”
jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.
“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”
“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”
“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”
“three-”
“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”
“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”
he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.
“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”
you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.
“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.
“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”
jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.
you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”
he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.
“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”
“that’s what you took away from the story?”
“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”
you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”
“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.
“you’re crazy!”
“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.
the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.
“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”
your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”
“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”
“because you’re crazy about me.”
the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.
“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”
“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”
fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.
“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”
“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”
and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.
you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”
he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.
“jungkook?”
“yes, baby?” he coos.
“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”
goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.
“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”
“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”
“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”
although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.
your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.
“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”
“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”
and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.
“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”
“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.
“let’s just turn on this one then.”
“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.
“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”
“who’s the other one for?”
jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.
“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”
“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”
“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”
“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”
“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”
“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”
he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.
“thank you!”
you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.
“aigoo, are you that hungry?”
“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”
“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”
“sorry, sorry!”
your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.
“how’s your cheek?”
“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”
“that means it’s healing well.”
“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”
“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”
that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.
“thank you,”
“huh? for what?”
“being jungkook’s happiness.”
from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.
“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”
he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.
“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”
you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.
“…or something like that.”
uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.
“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”
“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”
“what’s with the noise?”
you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”
jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.
“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”
“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”
and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”
“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”
jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”
“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”
“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”
“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”
“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”
the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.
jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.
“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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artethyst · 6 months
Text
~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! OC/Reader
Little Silas Vanserra had Eris vowing to never have anymore children.
He thanked the Mother that his daughter was a little angel- still at the age where she wanted to be carried everywhere, snuggled peacefully in an adult’s arms.
Her pale hair and violet ringed autumnal eyes reminding him so much of the woman he loved.
Her older brother was the complete opposite.
He wondered if this was his punishment, a cruel joke played upon him by the Gods for having such a carefree life since his father died and reminding him that he needed to keep his faltered guard up.
And that’s how he felt in the early hours of the morning, with little hands patting at his face and excited little feet hopping on the oak floors of his bedroom.
Tired.
He cracked one amber eye open- unceremoniously meeting a matching golden flecked iris, one full of wonder and guiltlessness, as he supposed his own once were.
He closed it as quickly as it had opened, letting a wry smirk take over his ostensibly lazed features.
“Daddyyyy I know you’re awake-“ the little boy began incredulously before shrieking in glee as Eris swooped him onto his chest with ease, tickling his son mercilessly as his Mate softly slept beside him.
After the boy had relented, his rounded cheek flushed with the childish mirth of giggles, Eris couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the boy’s wild red locks.
As expected the boy’s mother was still soundly asleep, Eris had always been a light sleeper, in fact having his Mate beside him and children down the hall only worsened the fact, even though his father was no longer a threat- to him or his loved ones, simply having them in such a place always had him on high alert.
Even though he had done his very best to rid the Autumn Court of longtime Advisors, the types of men that would love nothing more than to see the Night Court Princess with a Fae bane arrow through her much too large heart, he knew there was no good in him-undeserved of him in ever feeling content.
It had the opposite effect on his wife, who admittedly had never slept better than when she was in the comforting arms of her husband- the natural warmth emanating from him lulling her into such ecstasy she wished she never had to be cruelly ripped away from by the chill of the Autumn morning.
She had never really slept well in the Night Court, the pain of living there without her mother sister always too much to bear.
Eris was her new home.
Since having children- her body still not quite having recovered from their second and Eris insisting she get as much rest at she could, even the joyous squeals of her firstborn still wouldn’t- couldn’t make her budge.
“Daddy Uncle Lulu said you p-pwomised-“
“Promised,”
“Promised to show me m-my fire againnn!”
The boy was practically trembling with excitement, his father’s hands coming to steady him as his little body wriggled with joy, perched on his father’s raised knees who raised a slim digit to his smaller lips, reminding him to remain quiet as possible.
Not that it would have made a difference to the blissfully knocked out woman beside them.
“Did he now?” Eris withered, the thought of his brother- knowing just how much he treasured the few late mornings a High Lord might have, had told his son- who’s adorable little face noone could deny, that those small, valuable hours were reserved for “magic time”.
It took only a brief moment, a fleeting fall of Silas’ dimpled grin- his mother’s grin, to have the High Lord swinging his legs from the refuge of his silken sheets, his boy held firmly in his strong hands.
“Then I think it is best we get dressed appropriately, what do you say Little Flame?”
The boy simply cheered in response and Eris couldn’t help the grin on his own face at the feel of chubby hands around his neck in a makeshift embrace, carrying him down the hall as his son rattled on in half nonsensical toddler speak about how he was going to ‘beat his Uncle Lulu in a duel’.
~
The Maids cooed as the little Prince raced down the hall in his teeny tiny Autumnal uniform- gifted to him by his Aunty Elain who thought they were the cutest thing ever.
The boy stopped when he reached the top of the grand staircase, skidding to a halt with a nervous expression on his little face.
The same staircase his Mummy always carried him down, the same staircase he had been told to scoot down on his bottom in case he tripped, the same staircase she had been slowly helping him descend himself (holding his hand tightly and giving up halfway as he took nearly a whole minute per ten steps)
Eris watched him amusedly- a miserable jutted lip and a coy flush on his baby cheeks.
“Umm Daddy, M-Mummy said I am not s’pose to go down m-myself in case of ouchies…”
That was not what she had said.
“I thought you were a big boy now, hmm?” Eris teased as his son pouted, just as his mother would have.
“I-I am…” Silas’ point was refuted with the small grabby motions his little arms made to his father who looked down at him with a smirk.
“Do big boys get carried down the stairs?”
“Ummm…Yes?” The boy widened his glimmering autumnal eyes, “pleasies?”
And so with a roll of his eyes, all in good humour, Eris fastened his excitable son against his chest as they began to exit the grand estate, heading into the vast, luscious gardens where they would begin their training.
~
Lucien could only laugh when found his brother- sincere and unbridled joy dancing in his otherwise piercing gaze, watching his son chase after the little flames he made for him.
“Uncle Lulu!” The boy squealed, barrelling into the male who swung him atop his shoulders with ease.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Eris warned, “he has quickly figured out how to control his magic, you might end up with that treasured hair of your singed at the root.”
Silas nodded furiously, his little feet hitting the floor as he flexed his small palm as proof, and to his pure wonder, delicate embers- faint as they were, twinkled at his will.
“Look Daddy! I did it! I did it!” Eris couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his son danced with not only with the little flicker he had mustered with his father’s help, but larger wistful wisps that flowed around him with delicate care.
Eris couldn’t help but feel his heart constrict, wishing nothing more than to give his children the childhood he had wanted- deserved.
He took one look at his son and wondered how anyone could ever hurt him, let alone do it himself.
He wondered what he had done to make his own father hate him so, vowing to never once make his own offspring feel even a fraction of the way he had.
For what seemed like hours Lucien and Eris entertained the little boy, sometimes engaging in a silent battle between one another who could impress the young heir the most.
Lucien eventually was called away and Eris wondered if his years were finally catching up to him, small burn marks littering his clothes from his son’s inexperienced hands and an ache in his legs from chasing after him.
After Silas’ giggles had dissipated along with his energy, Eris suggested they head back, the boy agreed sleepily, the thrum of magic still alive in his little body as Eris made a mental note to keep an eye on his budding powers.
“T-Thank you for giving me my fire,” Silas mumbled, stumbling over to his father “love you Daddy…”And as a pair of all too familiar amber eyes met the High Lord’s blurring own, he bent down and received his greatest gift in his trembling arms.
A reminder he would never be the man who had damned him, a reminder that he was a good man- a good man that was loved.
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ssivinee · 11 months
Text
❇︎Meeting Doyennes❇︎
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BEBE! Bada Lee x OC Team! F Reader: The first mentions of being on SWF 2 had you excited. Everything seemed to be going well in the process... well, that's until you figure out who your competitors are.
Word Count: 2.1k
Note: Reading the girl's profiles beforehand would really help you, just so you don't get confused :) Also, the contact names are what you named each other.
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It was a warm day in April, and the Interflow Agency building buzzed with sounds of chatter and music. In a dance studio on the 7th floor of the company, loud tunes could be heard blasting as two individuals moved to the track. As the loud bass filled their ears, their limbs followed, feeling the sound and beat as playful grins upheld their faces.
“I need to know how your body moves that way,” the younger girl, Serena, asks. “Simply years of experience,” you quickly answer as you finish off, posing to the aggressive ending of the tune. “I don't think I’d be as good as you in 10 years.”
“You're already as good as me now, Serena. Stop doubting yourself so much, girl.” The older says as she walks over to her phone, turning down the music as they talk. 
“You have any classes later today?” “Nope, the company called an emergency meeting. Didn’t tell me why, though,” you tell her, shoulders shrugging at the text you got this morning from the CEO. “Wonder what it's about,” Serena mumbles, going deep in thought.
“Well, I guess I’m about to find out 'cause I need to go~,” you say, waving off with your bag in hand. “K, see you later!” You hear her say as the door shut.
As you entered the 10th floor, you were met with greetings from fellow co-workers. You enter the meeting room, feeling the serious air settling in on your brain. “Y/n, please take a seat.” You sat in front of the CEO, showing a friendly face, “What’s going on?”
“I actually have some exciting news for you.” You moved forward in your chair, a bit intrigued, “and that would be?”
“The famous Korean televisor, Mnet, reached out to us about a dance show called Street Woman Fighter 2, and I want you to represent us.”
A shocked look appears on your face. You were a fan of the first season, enjoying the fact that “normal people” get to have an inside look at the dance community in some way. “I’d be honored! But that show needs a crew.”
“And that’s why, as the leader, I’m giving you full control over who you want on the team.”
Your eyes widened at the man's statement, “Are you sure?” “I trust you’ll make the right decisions, Y/n. You are one of the most experienced and trusted dancers in this company, so I’m sure you’ll pick the right ladies.”
The CEO told you more about the details and finally concluded the meeting after an hour. When leaving the room, your brain began throwing around names that could possibly join you on your journey to Korea. The CEO had stated you could pick five to seven women, and you already had your first pick in mind, Serena.
But who else?
You were in a dilemma, unsure whether to assemble a team that closely resembled your own style for a more unified look or to opt for a more diverse group to avoid limiting your crew. As you contemplated this, you eventually shook your head, realizing that variety would be the better choice. The CEO had provided you with a folder containing profiles of all the other dance instructors at Interflow. You settled in the building's cafeteria, flipping through the thick folder while snacking on some food.
As your fingers flipped through each file, you began picking women whose styles varied and weren't necessarily too popular. That was until you limited down to four other women. 
Emi Tanaka, 28 years old and specializes in contemporary fusion.  Isabella “Bella” Vasquez, also known as Bell, is 25 years old and specializes in ballet.  Maya Chen, 25 years old and specializes in waacking. Iris Onasis, also known as Athena, 24 years old and specializes in tap and ballroom.
Once you've decided, you immediately text Serena.
Dancing Queen👑 I’m taking u out later tn ill txt u the dets later
Flow Baby🧸 is this you asking me out?
You chuckled at the younger girl's response, finding her humorous even when knowing it was a genuine question.
Dancing Queen👑 noooo but it is important😉
Flow Baby🧸 alright then just lmk
You then got into contact with the other girls and told them your unsuspected plan for tonight.
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All six of you now sat at a table in a pristine restaurant, all of you dressed up in gallant attires. As the girls chatted away, Serena couldn’t help but wonder why they were all sitting at a table together. It was a fairly unusual combination since most of the girls never worked together. Yes, they were friends, but that was pretty much due to them all working under Interflow.
“I don’t wanna ruin the moment, but can I ask why we’re all here?” Emi asks, almost as if she was reading Serena’s mind. “Well, I just had a meeting with the CEO today, and he said that I have an upcoming project coming up, so I just wanted to celebrate with you guys.”
The girls somewhat eye each other, feeling that there was more to the story. They literally worked in different areas of dance. Why wouldn’t they be suspicious about this? “Well, what’s the project?” “It actually involves you guys,” you let out calmly, but the girls seemed to take your tone a bit too seriously. “Is the project hard?”
“Oh fuck that, what is the damn project?” Iris cuts Maya’s question short as her bluntness turns on blast. “It’s Street Woman Fighter 2.”
“WHAT?”
“No way!”
“Is this real?”
You giggle at the several questions being thrown at you, “Yes, 100% real.” “Holy shit!”
“I guess we’re going to Korea, guys.”
The restaurant buzzed with excitement as the news sank in. You and your five talented friends were going to Korea for the viral show, and more people may finally have the chance to see who they were. The initial shock turned into enthusiasm, and the celebration continued.
You shared stories of your dance journeys and discussed the upcoming adventure. How would your diverse dance styles work together? What challenges and opportunities awaited in Korea? The group's unity grew, and you made plans for the project.
As the night progressed, you exchanged contact information and solidified your commitment to this new dance crew. The journey was just beginning, and you were all eager to showcase your talents on the international stage.
So, the next following weeks were busy for the six of you. The team had begun bonding over the hectic time, going out to eat, playing games, dancing together, filming tiktoks, and even coming up with the crew name.
The naming was the most difficult part. Everyone had such good ideas being thrown around and wasn’t agreeing on one. Athena and Maya liked ‘The Sirens,’ explaining that we gave off a dangerous yet elegant vibe. Emi stated she likes the name ‘Unity,’ but the other girls found it a bit boring. 
Bell and Serena stayed silent about the suggestions, saying how they weren’t really creative enough to think of one. So when you suggested ‘Doyennes,’ you were expecting the girls to hate it or even contemplate it but instead received such positive remarks.
After a wait of a month, Mnet released the statements of the show and all the crews joining. The team sat in the dance studio as they scrolled on a shared tablet, looking through their competitors. The team members weren’t released, but the crew names were, so seeing the crew with the pink logo gave the younger dancers chills.
“Jam Republic? They're probably gonna be out biggest competitors, huh?” Emi asks, and all the girls nod. Athena then looks at you and wonders, “Aren’t you under Jam, Lotus?” Her words cause all the girls to stare at you, all beginning to wonder the same thing. “That’s right! You signed with them 2 years ago. So why aren’t you with them?”
“Interflow has always been my top priority over Jam. The contract is a big achievement for me, sure, but I first started here.”
“Did they reach out to you?” Bell asks, but you shake your head, “I was told that Jam already knew I was the first dancer picked for our company, so they didn’t bother.” 
You began to think, Jam Republic had many talented dancers under their belt, so who was going to be chosen? “I’m sure they made a very diverse crew as well,” you tell the girls. “Is there someone you expect to see on the team?” “Oh, Kirsten, for sure.”
Their eyes widened at the famous name, and Bell could be seen fangirling as she sat on the couch. “Kirsten? Like Kirsten Dodgen? Kirsten of the Royal Family? The girl that went viral for being the green shirt girl in Justin Beiber's music video?” You laugh at Bell’s ramble, following it with a nod. “Wait… do you know her?” Emi questions, and you simply nod, typing away at your phone.
As you bring it up to your ears, everyone looks at you like you're crazy. “What are you doing?” Maya asks, but you hold up your finger, silencing them a bit. The person you called picks up, and you smile, “Hey, Kirs,” Bell goes crazy and starts shaking your arms in excitement. “I wanted to ask you something,” you say, and Emi mouths ‘put her on speaker,’ to which you nod, clicking the button on your phone.
Everyone hears the girl’s accent coming through, “and that would be?” “Are you a part of JR’s crew on Street Woman Fighter?” Before she responds, you hear her adorable laugh from the speaker, “Yeah, and I’m assuming you are a part of Doyennes, huh?”
A smile creeps up on your face, “Got that right. I guess I’ll be seeing you in Korea then, Kirs.” “Better give me some good competition, Lo,” you smirk at the nickname, “Of course, you know I never back down.”
“Right, right, well, I have a busy schedule today, so I have to go, but talk to you soon?” She questions, and you hum in agreement, “Yeah, see you in June, girl.” The team hears the line end, and you hear Bell squealing, “You never said you knew her.” “Well, it never came up in a conversation,” Athena says, pinching the girl’s leg jokingly with her obvious tone.
As your crew kept chatting, you scrolled more through the article, and the name in light blue bubble-style letters popped up. Bebe?
You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of them before, so you go to Instagram on your phone, typing the crew name in your search bar. Your finger pressed on the first profile page, and you saw multiple videos of younger girls dancing. But your eyes trailed to the tallest woman in every video. You checked out the tagged pages and saw the familiar name, a light gasp coming out of your mouth.
The girls stop their conversations due to your audible gasp, feeling a bit concerned. “What? What is it?” “Apparently, we won't be the only crew with another JR dancer.” The dancers looked at you confusingly until you flipped your phone, showing them your phone screen with her profile on it. 
“Bebe has Bada Lee as their leader.”
Silence fills the room until Emi breaks it, “Isn’t she the one with viral Kpop choreographies in Korea?” You could only nod at the question. Not only was Jam Republic gonna be a huge rival for you guys. 
This new information made you realize that your talents wouldn’t be the only important thing on this show. Popularity was gonna be a big factor, and knowing that many Kpop fans would likely watch the show, you immediately knew Bada would take the crown for that.
You weren’t oblivious. Bada had the charm, looks, charisma, height, and appeal that would get her trending, and you were sure she'd be trending fast. You grumble, your shoulders slumping at the heavy realization. Maya looks at you worryingly, “Is that bad for us?”
You shook your head, “Not necessarily. It just makes it harder for us. We’re pretty popular, but knowing someone on the show has gone viral multiple times for their dances puts us at a disadvantage. Especially on a Korean show.”
You may only be half Korean and raised in the States, but your mom raised you well enough to be involved in the culture. You knew a lot about Mnet and the way Korea worked, and it had you slightly worried for your crew. 
The Korean public reaction to three international crews wouldn’t be bad. They just may not be as good reactions in comparison to Korean teams.
You shook the thought out of your head, trying to be as optimistic as possible for your team, “We can do it, guys. We’ll aim high, like we always do, and make it to the top.” Everyone nods in agreement, smiles taking over their faces.
“We’re gonna show the world what the Professors of dance can do.”
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Tag list (OPEN): @bada-lee-ily @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @nimixe @lorenztired @sammybeefangirls @cephox @1luvkarina @badasgirlfriend @keiddeu @mikaleialt @maknaehyucks @fillthwvoid @aestrelle19 @cool-ultra-nerd @itsbokutosjuicyass @gaymoregayandgayer @tnu-ree @cutelittleakira
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writingonleaves · 6 months
Text
reckless driving au - jack hughes
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and i don't wanna lose this moment, want you to know just how i feel - reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine ft. ben kessler
the bits and pieces of the life of amelie iris fishel and jack rowden hughes. a story of learning to grow together, slowing down and rediscovering new meanings of home
main segments (in order)
don't wanna scrape you off the pavement (july - sept. 2024)
additional supplements (can be read in any order)
just two hours to get there, babe
this pairing also appears in:
it's so hard to watch everything i want
got lovestruck, went straight to my head
extras
meet our oc | playlist | instagram profile i i | social media posts
everything related to this au can be found in this tag! my ask box is also always open for any questions, so please feel free to ask away about this world :)
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Text
Call of Duty: Ghosts infection au
Biters: Biters are radioactive bugs that carry enough poison, disease, and "flesh rot" in their bite that it won't kill the host immediately, but if not cured, can end horribly.
Stage one: the bite. When the host gets bit by the biters, they don't notice, it's like a mosquito bite at first, but it's not itchy, and its much smaller. the host, after 24 hours, will start to feel more pain in the arms, chest and legs, it's extremely faint though. this is the poison flowing through the flesh.
stage 2: sickness. The host will start to feel sick, much like the flu, headaches, coughing, drowsiness, vomiting, etc. the eyes will start to become bloodshot and tired.
stage 3: rot. the hosts skin will start to feel squishier under the skin, the pain has worsened, and the hos feels even more drowsy and weak. the eyes have become even more red and bloodshot, by now the iris and pupil will start to turn white. the host is now almost a walking dead body.
stage 4: peeling. with the flesh becoming even more squishy, skin will start to peel and rot away, teeth will start to fall out and gums become paler. In some extreme cases, mold can grow over the flesh and sometimes under the rotting but not yet peeled skin.
stage 5: growth. This is when bones under the rotting flesh will start to elongate, this is most promenade in the spine, arms and ribs. the bones will inflate and make the flesh above stretch and become much longer. the host's face is unrecognizable at this point, the iris and pupil are whitened over, and the eye whites are bloodshot, in some cases, rot can spread to the eyes and make them collapse into the host's mouth.
Stage 6: bones. The bones can start to chip, break, grow longer, crack, etc. the hosts neck can grow up to 2 more feet during the elongation process.
stage 7: the mouth. The jaws have been unhinged at the point, rot has spread to the mouth and made it Imposible for the host to close it.
stage 8: death. relief. the infection process can last up to 2 months. if face starts to rot while the host has facial scars, the scar will stay on the host, but the skin around the scar will continue to rot.
currently, there is no known cure for "rot disease" also known as "alive zombie syndrome"
(Feel free to use this how you want for your ocs, the characters, etc.!)
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