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couchpotatoaniki · 3 years

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Stories From Alternate Universes: Yandere!Hongjoong

To understand the storyline of Dr Gertrude, please read the Stories From Alternate Universes; ATEEZ Version (headcannon masterlist).

To understand the Yandere storyline, please read the Eight Yandere Stories From An Alternate Universe (Yandere!ATEEZ headcannon masterlist)

Warnings: yandere behaviour, mental health issues, manipulation, blackmail, violence, stalking, taking photos without consent, taking advantage of the vulnerable, suggestive, mentions of drug dealing

Word Count: 3.5k+ (not including Doctor’s Notes)

A/N: Please do not take pictures of people without their consent, since this can cause a lot of paranoia for the person/people in question (a close friend of mine had experienced this and I really wanted to raise awareness). If someone does take a picture without your consent, tell them to delete it--don’t back down if they call you names or say that ‘it’s just a picture’. This simply shows that they are not respecting you or your comfort zone, and are therefore a trashy person. Also, in no way am I trying to romanticise yandere behaviour or any sort of manipulative behaviour at all.

Doctor’s Notes:

Kim Hongjoong appears to be a very intelligent human being, though seems to abuse this power in order to manipulate his victim. Some behaviours and characteristics I’ve noticed while studying him are as follows:

Does not use physical force when it comes to situations surrounding his victim (be it themselves or those associated to them), but uses mental control instead

Tends to observe the situation first (and everyone in it) in order to gather information first before making any rash moves

Leans more towards manipulating his victim rather than the situation itself, but the latter method is not uncommon

Through intelligence gathering, he is able to understand people’s body language well (mimicking the superpower of mind-reading extremely well) and can act accordingly

The previous point refers mainly to blackmail and further manipulation

Desirable traits--such as humbleness and benevolence--generally shown at face value, though there is evidence of narcissistic behaviour behind closed doors

Exploits any opportunity for his victim to show emotion in order to pursue his passion (like an experiment)

His victim appears to be somewhat aware of these behaviours, but does not know the extent of the issues

Appointed Nickname: The Shrewd

For more detailed information of His Story, continue reading

His Story:

From the moment he was able to grab things in his soft hands, Hongjoong had shown a great interest in the arts. Suppose it’s not surprising at all he became an artist, letting the ideas and pictures in his head taint the graceful white canvas. And to him, you were perfect.

Basic enough to blend into the crowd, but unique enough to stand out to him. His muse, who made him feel more like an artist than anything. More than the paintbrush that spread his emotions across the material with each stroke.

Problem was, you weren’t all that keen on being his--or anyone else’s for that matter, since you had other plans in life rather than being a trophy for someone to fawn over.

You were a barista, making coffees and teas, alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, all sorts for your customers. Owned a small business, a café in the morning; by night, a bar. It was your dream to create things people loved--and with your lack of ability to cook contrasting with an unusually on-point sense of smell--this was the best business you could have possibly gone into.

Hongjoong was going through a slump in creativity the night he found your little place. The relaxing image, the fresh air surrounding it, had drawn him in like a moth to a light.

Then, at the counter, he saw you.

Great big grin on those soft-looking lips, you greeted him, taking his order--Aviation, the cocktail was called. It was a rather pretty drink, the cool liquid cloudy with a beautiful lavender hue to it. Gin wasn’t particularly his favourite, but he was so lost in your beauty that he chose the first thing that his mind could grasp.

That was how he associated you with the earth and the sky.

Through the flower garnish and overall look of the drink, you became his world, suddenly finding endless ideas and concepts--feelings he could pour out into his bits of work for his next gallery.

Every day, on your shifts, he was there, eager to talk to you. Quickly became a regular, just to drink in the sight of your pretty face and beautiful aura. Jokes passed between the two of you, about him being an alcoholic or caffeine addict, about you being the reason for it because your drinks are just too damn good.

It was towards the end of your night shifts that talks began to get deep and personal. When many of the customers were gone and the alcohol began to settle in. For you, it was like talking to a friend you never had--one who had such a unique outlook on the world; more like a breath of fresh air than most drunks you usually had to interact with.

For you, Hongjoong was kind, insightful, willing to talk about anything and everything--and you could relate all too well since the two of you simply clicked. A compliment of personalities, making it very easy for you to be comfortable, to be yourself, around him.

For you, he was humble and sweet, gifting you small little trinkets as an act of friendship (or so you assumed), keeping you company during off-peak hours, helping you handle customers that were a tad too difficult for a single human.

For you, Hongjoong would say anything, do anything, be anything.

Yet none of it seemed to work, for he was just your friend.

Eventually he grew frustrated, painting his emotions in reds and blacks and greens and blues onto the canvas one day, a piece for his upcoming gallery. The anger, jealousy, sadness that accompanied love--everything he had grew to feeling when you made no move to show your romantic interest.

Overlooking his finished piece, he realised that he had to do something more... direct.

Your day shift ended twenty minutes ago, yet you were still inside, deciding to end it with a coffee with your favourite patron. This had become more routine now that you began to grow familiar with Hongjoong--or the persona he put on; at the end of your shift, be it day or night, you would take half an hour to simply talk with your soul-friend who appeared to know you more than anyone else.

Right now you were talking about an experience you had while camping out with some old companions, where a friend had burnt their hand--prompted by Hongjoong showing you a little injury on his arm that was sustained from the wax he was working with.

“Wow, your partner must be lucky to have someone so handy with a first-aid kit,” he chuckled, knowing very well what you were about to say next.

Shaking your head, you waved him off. “I don’t have a partner, but thanks for the compliment.”

“Really?" he questioned, feigning perplexity. "How come you don't?"

Fiddling with the rim of your cup of coffee, you sighed. "Maybe it just wasn't written for me. People are just..." You took a breath, inhaling the right words along with the lingering smell of freshly ground beans in the air. "No matter who I talk to, they just... they don't fill that hole that needs to be filled. They just don't have what I want."

"And what do you want?" His voice was soft, gentle, like a mother's warm smile.

Encouraging.

Chuckling, you took a swift swig of your toasty-warm drink. "First time anyone's asked me that."

"What you want?" Hongjoong scoffed, copying your action and had sipped on his heavenly liquid. "No wonder you can't find the right person."

Cheeky smile pulling at his lips made you chortle, the silliness of your friend bringing a kind of ease to your mind. "What I want is... an equal. I don't want to mother someone--I just want to grow alongside my equal. I want to work and enjoy my freedoms without having to lose too much just for someone who doesn't even know if they can fully commit to me, if they can treat me properly. I want to love and be loved--is that too much to ask for?"

Tenderness in his eyes, Hongjoong unwrapped his hands from his cardboard cup to warm your own up. “Well, I suppose in this world, it actually is too much.” Tracing his lip with his tongue, he chuckled. “Perhaps the whole thing about marrying your best friend is your best bet. Could be with someone who enjoys being with you. Cares for you because you’re you.”

Head tipped back from laughing, you pulled your hands away to pat his head. “Thanks for the advise,” You took it as a sweet little thought, rather than what he was truly trying to insinuate.

“I’m not joking, it’s a fairly reasonable idea!”

“Then do you suggest I should try dating a friend?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel that passion--”

“How would you know if you’ve never even attempted it.” Sighing, he straightened his back, seriousness in his body language but playfulness in his gaze. “Try me. Try dating me--” he saw your mouth opening in protest, instant tension in your shoulder “--and it doesn’t even have to work out. Just to make you warm up to the idea of being with a friend. You can always drop out of it any time you feel too uncomfortable--but you gotta get out of that comfort zone once in a while for it to take effect.”

Right now it was all sweet talk. All to coax you into agreeing to be with him. Like hell he’d actually let you go--not when you were his job seemed all that more interesting with you in his life.

But he let you sleep on it--like you could actually get a wink of rest with such an important thing to decide. Ultimately, you thought it was a good experience, so when he returned the next day for your night shift, you said yes.

Hongjoong was over the moon, giddy and excited to be your official boyfriend. Finally, he and his muse could be together--and he wouldn’t let anything rip the two of you apart.

So, for the first month or so, he was set on showing you the ideal person for you. Someone who would let you grow in your own space, and although he hated that lack of control, he let you be so you could settle properly with him.

So you could fall as hard for him as he did for you.

By the time November rolled around, the two of you had been dating for just over three months. During that time, the time you had spent certainly changed your perspective on dating; Hongjoong may have been a great friend, but he became the poster-boy for boyfriends--attentive to your needs, caring, sweet, gentle, supportive, never crossing the boundaries you had set.

You couldn’t recall when it was that your heart began to speed up at the sound of his laughter, nor the unrest in your fingers once noticing his messy hair, nor the twitch of the corner of your lips when you thought of a past conversation.

All of a sudden, your unoccupied time was spent on the two of you, contemplating what to do for your next date or brainstorming ideas for food you could share while you were hanging out at his place, watching the artist in action. It was all so gradual, not realising you romantically liked a good friend of yours.

Not understanding you were tangling yourself more and more in his web.

Hongjoong felt that now he could perhaps peel away the fake persona he had put on, knowing you’d be a lot less likely to leave him now that he could see you change slowly. Making more time for him, talking to him more, laughing a lot more in his presence.

So, he did. Gradually, he began to voice out certain things. The first few times were rare and far between, less like commands and more like alternative suggestions. What would look better for a party. What would be nice dish to cook for dinner. What would be a good time to work.

Then, as the months went by, the rare alternative suggestions morphed into frequent requests. Could you wear this instead? Could you have this specific hairstyle? Could we cook this today? Could we go out tonight rather than tomorrow?

Yet he never forget to add that phrase, 'but the choice is yours in the end'.

Hongjoong was smooth about what he was doing--and although you could feel this slight pressure, you believed that’s what was normal in a relationship. After all, they’re just simple asks... right?

Sunlight showered through the window, curtains drawn as to let the natural light seep into the room. You were still cocooned in the covers of his bed, and so was he--though only one of you were asleep.

“Pretty,” he whispered to himself, hand reached out to brush against the warm flesh of your cheek until it stopped mid-air. This sight was too pretty for him to touch, a snapshot of you like this was needed to imprint it forever in time.

God knows how many pictures Hongjoong’s taken of you. Out in the open or behind closed doors. With you aware of the camera’s presence or not. All the evidence tucked away in a metal box, in a hidden corner of one of his storage lots to store his artwork.

Though you were knocked out after last night (you and him spend the time intimately, with skin bare against each other whispering sweet things into the heavy air of his bedroom), he still liked to pepper you with compliments that deserved to be said only to you--after all, you were the only one who deserved it.

Hongjoong couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a picture of you--and he did so, swiftly. “Beautiful, my love,” he whispered as he nuzzled into the nook of your neck, turning off his phone and placing it carefully on the bedside table.

He'd print it out later and delete any evidence.

Grunting came from your chest as you shuffled closer to the warmth of his body, your unconscious state finding the blanket wrapped around you from shoulder down was not sufficient enough and must seek out the comfort he could provide you.

As much as he hated to do so, Hongjoong rubbed his hand up and down your cold arm to wake you up, check up on you after yesterday’s ordeal.

A good friend of yours since primary school had said they didn’t want you in their life--to put it in a nicer, shorter way than what was actually said. If there were signs of a rift between you, then maybe it would have been easier to come to terms with.

But no. It was sudden. Very, very sudden.

Maybe that’s why you were in such a confused, dishevelled state when Hongjoong opened his front door.

Already briefly explaining to him what had happened on the drive to his place, you wasted no time to press yourself into him, lips locked and tears streaming down the red-hot skin of your face and neck.

A slight clench in his heart made him falter momentarily, not liking how weak you looked--but it was necessary.

She was trying to take his muse away from him, away from the artist who was the only one that could bring out your true potential on a canvas. What else could he do but use her past of drug dealing against her?

Then again, he didn’t mind this--you being so frail in front of him (so long as it was him alone). Any emotion you felt had subsequently made him feel something too; you being in pain had caused him the same and that was perfect inspiration for his works.

Feeling hurt was better than feeling nothing.

But right at that moment, his precious needed some love. Who was he to refuse you when you wanted to drown yourself in him? To have him because you lost the closest friend you had?

“Wake up, my love,” he mumbled into your shoulder, accompanied with the fluttering of soft, gentle kisses imprinting themselves onto your supple flesh. Groaning, you shook your head ever so slightly in your fatigued daze before falling right back into your dream land.

One which he hopes is full of him, since his are always brimming with you.

So he slips on top of you, covering you with his warm body and even warmer lips until you finally open your beautiful eyes. “Hongjoong,” you muttered, lazily returning the ones he plants on your mouth.

“Wake up,” he repeats.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Because...”

He sees the sadness in your eyes and wants to take another picture. Of this gorgeous representation of the true blues.

“Because of what happened yesterday?”

So he presses your chin between his index finger and thumb, pointing it in the air so that he has your undivided attention. “Words, my love. I can’t know if you don’t use your words.”

No words passed your lips but the exhausted, downcast sight was more than enough of an answer for any person asking.

Except, not for Hongjoong. No, he wanted you to say it. Let it hang in the air so that you 100% understand and come to terms that this friend of yours is gone forever--but to also remind you he is still here.

Tearing up at remembering the exact events that occurred just after closing time, you spoke in a monotonous voice. “Yes, it was because of yesterday.”

Water streamed from the corner of your eyes, disappearing in your hair from the angle your head was at. But this look, this void in your expression despite the eyes full of feeling--this he loved to see, to burn into his memory.

They say eyes are the gateway of a person’s soul, and he can examine what exactly your soul is going through.

And he likes what he sees.

That was the first incidence. The next few were perhaps just as hard, though for different reasons.

Friends, family, co-workers. Your boyfriend didn't discriminate.

If they were a threat to your relationship with him--be it directly or indirectly--he was sure to remove them through various means of... persuasion.

One time, Hongjoong's blackmailing hadn't worked (regardless of his meticulous calculations) and your cousin was still trying to strip you from his life; in a less metaphorical sense, he found out about the pictures he took of you decided that the artist was too dangerous for you to be in a relationship with.

Your cousin didn't care about Hongjoong's threats.

He should have.

Because now you didn't believe a single thing he said. Not when you saw what Hongjoong had on him. However, one could say there was a slight miscalculation that arose from this situation.

Suspicions of how Hongjoong got those pictures of your cousin clouded your mind like mist. Yet, when you brought this up (as he was now the most trusted person in your life, a goal of his accomplished), he simply turned the question into something else.

Twisted the words so well that even you had forgotten the main purpose of asking him.

And so the mist cleared... for the most part.

“Hongjoong?”

His eyes flickered between you and his current piece. “Don’t move, my love,” he breathed, hands steady as he painted your lips with watercolours.

Not wanting to ruin his hard work, your lips stayed pressed into its previous expression, eyes no longer looking at him. but at the floor as you put on this shy persona he requested for.

Before you met him, the idea of being painted sent unpleasant shivers down your spine--the thought felt very narcissistic in your opinion, but when he kept insisting that you were his muse? Well, there were only so many times you could refuse him.

By now, the two of you were married for five years, and this situation was common--but this particular one was not. After all, no one could miss the enormous baby bump you had to carry.

Twins, the doctor said.

Of course, Hongjoong wanted to paint this milestone--as he did with the previous ones that now appear to be insignificant, paling at the sight of you. Watercolours, specifically earthy tones, was a specific concept he had in mind, for reasons you couldn’t completely grasp yet.

“Okay, my love,” he groaned as he stretched his back, ready to move onto your torso. The part he was most eager to perfect. “What was it?”

Mouth opening and shutting like a fish, you ultimately decided on a sweet smile. “Nevermind.”

As it left your tongue, your husband sighed, throwing his brush and pallet onto a nearby surface before coming to kneel in front of you, fingers interlocking with your own. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

When you did, one of his paint stained palms lifted to caress your cheek, more full than before from the changes your body has had over the course of your pregnancy.

“There we go,” he smiled. “Now, tell me what you were going to say?”

“I-It was nothing, Joong. Really.”

“If it was ‘nothing’ like you said, then you wouldn’t have interrupted me, now would you? Now, tell me, my love. Tell me what’s wrong.” There was something about his expression as he looked at you that gave you a bit of on unsettled feeling.

“I-It’s just... Angela.” At the mention of your employee’s name, Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

Then it was gone, just like that.

“We’ve gone over this--”

Running his tongue against the inside of his right cheek, he sighed, letting his head hang loose for a moment before bringing it back up to look into your concerned eyes once more.

“Yeah but it’s just strange. First it was my cousin, now it’s her. I’m just unsure about how you got this information--is there something you’re not telling me?” Obviously, you didn't want to out-right ask if he had a PI on the people in her life, but the implication was there.

Hongjoong didn't like it at all.

“My love,” both hands dropped to cradle your pregnant womb, “I want you to remember one thing and one thing only. Can you do that for me?”

A nod from you, but you quickly caught yourself. Hongjoong wanted you to say what you want--he always has. “Yes.”

“Good... I want you to remember that I love you and our unborn children. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to save you all from harm.”

Of course, what he meant by harm was being taken away from him--but that’s a minor detail. He truly cared for you, and as fickle as emotions can be, he is so sure that this was it. Set in stone, like a statue.

“Okay,” you replied, and that was that. At least he gave you an answer, as cryptic as it might seem. Besides it wasn’t like this was unusual for you now. Already grown into accustoming into his ways, moulding yourself like clay over the ongoing course of your relationship.

Perhaps it was your hormones or the babies summersaulting in your body, but your stomach churned at the feeling of his gentle hands rubbing your bump. Like his touch there could have had a double meaning. As if he could not only protect them, but also hurt--

No.

Not Hongjoong.

He loved you three too much for that.

The only thing he loved more was his job--the two of you often joked...

It was a joke...

Right?

☕︎ Tag list: @yunhobabygurl ,

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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A hiccup in the process

cw: breaking and entering again, more stalking, that’s not gonna go away for this story lol, I think that’s the big ones to note. enjoy!

Previous part: here

First part: here

Sadly, Illumi couldn't keep an eye on you 24/7, which he found irked him slightly. More-so when Milluki would give him updates while he was on his mission. It wasn't like Milluki himself irked Illumi this easily every day, he was his baby brother, he was allowed to annoy the long haired assassin, that's what family does, but for some reason knowing that the rotund young man was using the spy cameras he'd installed for his own surveillance to check in on you every few days to ensure nothing bad happened ate at Illumi in a whole new fashion.

Despite this, the assassin focused on his work as best he could, not that it really required much focus, a pretty textbook political hit, easy enough. However, when he came back, he was not greeted by an equal amount of ease.

He'd stopped by his home, doing the usual after-job reports for the client, than told his mother that he'd return to keeping an eye on you until his next job, he also stopped by Milluki's room and rather coldly told him he could stop spying on you. Than, he headed over to your place, curious to see what fine details his brother didn't find necessary to relay. However, when he got to your home and peeked inside, careful to ensure no possible neighbors saw him, he found it suspiciously empty. Milluki would've told me of any new people coming around, so (y/n) isn't on a date or anything. It's not a weekend, so (f/n) surely doesn't have her, and (y/n) isn't the type to just up and leave.. he mused, a bit down the street now sitting on an empty bench in the spring air so he didn't seem super suspicious to anyone around by lingering around your home.

He mulled these questions over for a while, most of the day it seemed since the next time he returned from splitting his attention between puzzling out this issue of emotions and closely watching your home it was evening and the temperatures were cooling. What drew his attention completely to your home was the unfamiliar car that pulled into your driveway. A car pulling up wasn't super odd to Illumi, (f/n) occasionally came by after all, but this car didn't belong to them, and it definitely wasn't yours, as you either didn't have one, or it was at your home, so the sight of a new person immediately put Illumi on the defensive. This boiling feeling of out of place anger worsened when you lingered by the strangers car.

On the bright side, the long haired assassin used this opportunity to meander over and eavesdrop to figure out where you may have been,

"-Thanks for taking me out!" you were saying, leaning a bit towards the drivers window, where a man, or maybe woman, illumi couldn't quite tell from where he was paused to listen, sat, waving your gratitude away nonchalantly,

"Nah, it's cool. You were pretty fun to hang out with, I'd be happy to take you out again another time if you'd want." the person said, making you giggle, the sweet sound acting as gasoline on his already ill mood.

Sadly, Illumi couldn't linger around any longer, you were noticeably getting tenser and had thrown a few skeptical glances at the assassin while he was paused on his phone, so he didn't catch the remainder of your conversation before your 'friend' left.

Illumi walked around the block to calm down and refrain from any rash decisions that night, returning to his usual hiding place afterwards, watching you as you happily lounged in your home. While the darkness of night crept in around him, Illumi tried to figure out what to do and why he was so annoyed to see you with someone else. Did he want to kill you? Was he mad that you potentially going on a date made that goal harder to achieve cleanly? No, that didn't seem to be correct, the explanation not seeming to cover all of the prickly emotions he felt at the moment, but it was the best explanation he had. He didn't have a lot of experience with the 'softer emotions' as his mother sometimes called them when she had given him a basic course on wooing himself a wife, and he was an assassin, a trained killer, surely he had no need to learn about these things. Though, he had to admit, combing out those pesky barbs of maybe I'm jealous and maybe I'd like to be the one she has a fun time with from his already crowded and busy thoughts was annoying. Every other emotion he could neatly package away, he could temper his lust, curb his anger, and suppress sadness, guilt, shame, and the like. But this situation, you, seemed to have this aggravating power to flip the lid of Pandora's box and pick out the worst of the bunch to bring to the surface.

After some contemplation, the assassin decided that he did, in fact, want to kill someone, but not you. You were still an entertaining little puzzle to burn away the time, at least, even if you did aggravate him. so, instead of killing you, he waited for you to go to bed and than slipped inside once again. This time though, he wasn't there to peek at your sleeping body, Though I bet she's wearing something risque again a dark little voice whispered in his head, but no, he could not indulge in that tonight. He was there on a mission to find information on your friend and the person who took you on a date. Peeking beneath your covers to catch a glimpse of your soft thighs or chest could wait.

He focused on his task, digging through anything he found that could potentially hold information about those you knew, but nothing proved useful. He found a picture with (f/n)'s name on the back, but he already knew their name, he needed their address or full name, or at least their phone number to have Milluki trace it. Sadly though, you didn't make a habit of writing down police-interrogation level notes on your few friends and leaving them in the open, so Illumi had to collect himself and get a good grip on his hormonal reactions before going into your bedroom for your phone.

Your room was as quiet as before, with, at most, a white noise source that the lean assassin made a mental note to ween you off of once if he had you as a wife. It wasn't an impressive room, dotted with a few articles of dirty clothes or other signs of life, but his dark, empty eyes still zeroed in on a pair of your undergarments on the floor in particular. Part of him was repulsed by how slovenly you were to leave a few articles of dirty laundry on the floor, but another part of him knew that he himself wasn't an exact neat freak and he only thought you were messy because he had butlers, you didn't. No, instead that devious side of himself focused more on what was on the floor, and how that might mean you were...less modest than he might have first thought.

He stopped himself, repressing the nasty urge to check and than punish you if you really were so brave as to sleep without panties and just scooped up your phone and left your bedroom to staunch any other distractions. With a deep breath to clear away the lustful thoughts, Illumi easily hacked into your phone, really, your password was so easy, and dug around. He tried to find your friends contact information, and while he didn't find a phone number, address, or anything like that, he did find their online profile, which was enough for Milluki to track them down. However, he didn't stop snooping after that. Instead, he looked around in your photos, other messages or DMs, anything personal or potentially holding lewd info or images, but the most he found was a google search for an adult toy you seemed to be contemplating buying. He swiftly deleted that from your search history and returned your phone to where it had been.

Now he only needed to let his brother do his job and look into (f/n) and than your date. Of course, he'd have Milluki do that after clarifying why the shut-in gaming nerd should've told him you had a date of any sort.

#Yandere Illumi #x reader #Illumi Zoldyck #Illumi x reader #yandere #part 4 #fanfiction #quotev

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

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Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

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~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin.

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had.

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard.

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian.

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain.

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting.

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know.

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying.

“Konechno.” Of course.

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again.

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death.

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman.

My father is an arms-dealer.

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy.

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t.

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty.

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people.

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly.

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer.

“Starik,” I tease. Old man.

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York.

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise.

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase.

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital.

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait.

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details.

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé.

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored.

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him.

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option.

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room.

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature.

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more.

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest.

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name.

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now.

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected.

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello.

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield.

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello.

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction.

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave.

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck.

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys.

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official.

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual.

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it.

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf countdown #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #a court of mist and fury

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juliettalfacharlie · 4 years

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just remembered some of the lingering-linzin ideas i had years ago. the scraps have since been deleted from my drafts but the premises were as follows-

(put below a cut bc it's a lot longer than i anticipated, rated t for sexual content)

1. meelo had just found out that tenzin had dated lin, and he's talking with ikki near the training grounds. he's going through mocked earth forms and exasperatedly, he says, "i wish lin had been my mom, because then i'd be a metalbender. that would be so cool!" and he didnt mean anything by it, but jinora quickly scolds him. tenzin's speechless, stumbling through his signature Generic Response of "oh, uh, well-" before changing the topic all together.

2. tenzin definitely liked photography, especially in his youth. he has a collection of high end film cameras, and in his rarely-used shoebox office he had a pinboard collage of instant photos. when he moves out of the office a decade after they'd broken up, he finds a stack of developed photos inside a box, pushed to the back of the lowest drawer. intrigued, as the rest of his photos were sorted and preserved at the island, he thumbs through the first few. the top one's of lin's first house- she'd moved out at nineteen, renting a small abode halfway across the city. the next is a candid, with lin sitting on the front porch. her eyes were closed and the morning sun lit her face, then unmarred, and he remembered that moment vividly. it was disorienting, recalling how his younger self had begun falling for her then, when their current relationship was stilted and cold.

the ones following were obviously handpicked, as was the whole lot, presumably, and followed a progression of his adult friendship with lin. she'd been his favourite subject; yes, he'd been attracted to her for years, but she also held herself with a natural grace. her angular features and expressive eyes made her an intriguing model, and he always received praise from other photographers who viewed those portraits.

he hadnt meant to view every one, but he found he was unable to stop. he definitely didnt retain romantic feelings, but their relationship had been so deeply emotional, and he dearly missed that. lin had always been comfortable around him, and that sudden loss when they broke up was shattering.

there was a noticeable gap in the portraits of lin, and he felt a pang remembering why. she'd felt extremely self-conscious of her scars, hating when tenzin took pictures. the few he had during that time were entirely outside of lin's knowledge, hastily composed and sometimes a bit blurry. he was glad to pass through them and witness her resurgent confidence.

he had unconsciously sat back in his chair, making himself comfortable as he plucked through the stack of photos. their relationship unfolded once again before his eyes. he missed that unguarded happiness they both felt, before her job weighed heavily and aang had died.

three quarters through the photos, tenzin paused, finally remembering why this collection had remained in his office. in the bedroom of lin's third house, she sat on the bed, back to the camera as she glanced out the window. horizontal rays shone through the blinds, her bare skin glowing.

she was nude, though nothing scandalous was shown. tenzin's thumb brushed over the image of a long scar across lin's shoulder. at the time, it had been her worst, and it had absolutely terrified tenzin. after an earthquake she'd spent dawn to dusk pulling survivors and bodies from collapsed buildings. the foundation of one housing complex crumbled with her inside, crushing her armour and her ribs.

just a month ago, lin had crashed on her satocycle during a chase. by instinct and honest luck, she'd been able to right herself so she skidded on her armour, coming out with only bruises and road rash. she'd once again grown close to katara, bumi, and even kya, but tenzin had found out a day later in the newspaper.

his gaze studied the image, noting the small hints of his presence. a soft t-shirt lin had stolen was sliding off the end of the bed, his underwear beside it.

tenzin flipped to the next picture. lin had half turned around, frozen mid-quip with a smirk on her face. her beautiful hair was tangled and messy, lamplight glinting in her eyes.

the following six made his face flare red, as he's sure it also did back then. lin had done a full about-face, embracing her nudity (and tenzin's embarrassment.)

he flipped through those quickly, finding one of him immediately following. lin liked to take photos of him, sometimes, and she had a natural eye for composition, likely from her own artistic skill. tenzin sat propped against the headboard, skin flushed and beaded with sweat. he looked directly at the camera with wonder, eyes fully dilated. the series of ten photos showed the progression of lin's hand tracing up his chest, over dark hickeys on his neck and the edge of his jaw. she would have been sitting in his lap to take the shots.

that day seemed to open the floodgates for explicit photoshoots, and after accidentally glancing at a few he straightened all the images and returned them to the box, in the same order as before.

the house facade stared back at him for a number of moments before he finally returned the protective lid. he took a deep breath, running a hand over his face. the stirred emotions made his longing for her grow, and he knew he'd once again try and reach out.

tenzin took a few minutes to process before he stood, continuing his packing. he carefully nestled the box among his books, fingers brushing the top once before he turned, continuing to empty the desk.

#linzin #tenzin #lin beifong #legend of korra #my hc's #i dont rlly ship them but their lack of resolution (and just straight up acknowledgement) makes me angry

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

To Be Continued - Part 10

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2487

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The broken laptop was taken by Sungjin that night, and he returned it to you a fortnight later with a new screen on it. Despite being grateful, you were still hopeless. “Brian’s gone for good, isn’t he?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on from him, Y/N. I hate seeing you this stuck. Don’t you want to write other stories and start living again?”

Staring up at the man, you nodded numbly. “I hoped I’d be living with him. I guess dreaming up the perfect guy isn’t a healthy thing to do.”

“It did happen, and your grief is validated,” he told you, giving your upper arm a gentle squeeze. “Everyone faces a loss of someone in their life at one point or another. And we have to learn how to continue on after they’re gone.”

“You’re right,” you murmured, smiling gently at Sungjin. “Thank you for being a good friend to me.”

“Officially friend-zoned,” Sungjin teased, dramatically grappling at his heart. You giggled, and this made him stop and smile. “And officially hearing a good sound come from you. I hope you can feel comfortable to laugh more often, Y/N.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Now that you have your device back, how about you go and write something? I’m sure it’s been a long two weeks.”

You grinned at his statement, nodding along. “My desktop is so ancient. I was close to spending a lot of money on a new one.”

“Well, now you don’t have to. Off you go and write, Miss Writer.”

Your smile fell as soon as you shut the door, the friendly term Sungjin just called you only bringing up the moments where Brian had called you that time and time again. Counting to ten, you avoided crying for the first time over your loss and smiled.

“All I have to do is keep counting and writing,” you instructed, marching down to your office and plugged in the laptop. It fired up immediately, and the new screen was pristine. Thankfully, all of your work was backed up to an external so you didn’t have to worry about losing your work. It surprised you, however, that the computer remembered where it last was in your session, the end of the Eternity document appearing in front of you.

Reading over the paragraph you had sent Brian, you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. “You did well, Y/N. You waited for love, and you loved him like no other. This story’s over now, though. Let’s move on.”

Slowly, you deleted your message, making sure the document said The End and closed out of it, moving it to another storage space on your external hard-drive before opening a new document.

It was time to step out of the limbo you had endured for too long.

“Lily, did you get my first submission?” you asked as you continued to tap furiously at your keyboard, not bothering to check the expression of your editor on the small window in the corner of your screen.

“I did, and it’s fabulous.”

“Just fabulous?” you asked, scrunching your up face in annoyance. “I don’t think fabulous is enough.”

“Ooh, someone is feeling good about her work lately,” Lily crooned, and you grinned. “It’s good to see you working this happily again, Y/N.

“Well, the Encounter series is done now, and I need to have a follow-up story.”

“Does your favourite constable know about this?” she wondered dreamily, and you stopped typing to shoot Lily a look. “What? I distinctively remember you swooning over your protector. There’s no hope for you two to have a romance behind the scenes too?”

“Lily, I might be a writer who enjoys a good love story, but that’s all it remains as for me, a story. Sungjin is my friend, and I’ll surprise him with the final manuscript when this is done.”

“Yes boss!” she cheered and then gasped. “Oh, by the way! I heard that pre-order sales for Eternity have surpassed Captivated! When it launches in two week’s time, I’m certain you’re going to rank well!”

“And then that world will finally be at a close,” you murmured to yourself, Lily straining to hear what your lips had expressed. When you noticed her confusion, you smiled brightly. “Thanks for all your hard work over the past three years on this project, Lil.”

“You wrote them, Y/N. That world, especially Eternity, is a masterpiece.”

“Well, I hope the next story will be even better. More than fabulous, even.”

“You never let a single thing slide. I’ll sing your praises further when you send me the chapter you’re working on right now!”

“Onto it!” you said with a wave of goodbye, and the video call ended.

Slumping in your chair, your eyes shifted towards the wall calendar where the date had been circled for Eternity’s release.

You had taken Sungjin’s advice and picked yourself up out of the dumps. Of course, it hadn’t been easy, and still to this day you had moments where you yearned for Brian. However, you had remained strong since your initial resolve and left Eternity where it belonged – in your completed archive. You hadn’t sent messages, you didn’t open the document, and aside from when obligated to, you didn’t speak of that world to anyone. It still hurt too much, and you were looking forward to a time where this was all just a fond memory in your writing career.

Right now, with the impending sales and then signing tour that was booked, however, you were doing your best to distract yourself from anything that might make you cave.

Writing your police officer au was definitely helping with that, and you launched into typing again about Sungjin and Ella, you two protagonists.

You knew you probably should change his name, but the story made the most sense to you when you imagined your friend. Although you did wonder how you could separate the two when it came to the more romantic parts in the novel, you were having a lot of fun, remembering those juvenile feelings you once had for Sungjin before Brian stepped out of the laptop and changed your life entirely.

Sigh. You had thought of Brian again.

“When will I stop doing that?” you wondered in a sing-song voice, trying to keep upbeat. It was then that a new document popped up on the screen, and you groaned loudly. “And when will you stop glitching?”

It wasn’t the first time the new document tab would appear, now and then when you were in the midst of typing. You assumed you kept hitting the keyboard shortcut for opening it somehow and mentally wrote yourself a note to check if it could be disabled when you were done with this chapter.

Paying it no mind, you continued writing your story, not thinking once about all the mysterious happenings that preluded Brian’s appearance in the first place.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you today!” a young voice announced, and you smiled brightly at the teen before you. “I’m a big fan of Brian and Charli!”

“Aren’t we all?” you mentioned happily back, reaching for the copy of Eternity she had placed down to sign. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Jennie! With an i-e.”

“Well, Jennie, with an i-e, I’m so glad you came today. I hope to see you at my next book signing in a couple of year’s time.”

“You can count on it, Y/N!”

The day continued much in the same, and whilst you were overwhelmed by the support of your fans, when you entered your hotel for the evening, you were more than emotionally exhausted.

“Stupid Charli. She’s living the dream,” you muttered and then caught yourself, sighing heavily with your unexpected negativity.

It was foolish to be jealous, and yet after listening to everyone say how perfect Brian and Charli were for each other all day long, you understood your reaction. Even if you were moving on, you wanted to be the one who was perfect for Brian Kang.

“Let’s count to ten, shall we?” you told yourself, breathing deeply and following through with your mantra. After ordering room service for dinner, you settled into the plush bed with your laptop, ready to stream a crime show you had been watching for research.

When the screen appeared though, it was opened on Microsoft Word with a new document waiting for you. You groaned and looked into the settings to make sure you had in fact disabled the keyboard shortcut. It was as you had left it and you let out a small huff at the program before hovering your cursor over the exit button.

Something in you made you pause, however, and you peered at the empty document with some interest. “Why are you following me around?”

Thinking of how Brian would always open a new document to converse with you, a glimmer of hope surged through, and you hit the keys with a rapid pace.

Are you there, Brian Kang?

Nothing came, and your words didn’t dissolve either. Rolling your eyes at your rash reaction, you closed the document and opened Netflix.

You were well into the throes of the show when your room service knocked on the door, casting you out of bed and over to the door. Once you returned with the tray of food you had been given, you noticed the document was back on the screen again.

“What is going on?” you wondered, staring at it for some time. Placing a hand on the screen, you closed your eyes and willed Brian to come out. It had been so long since you had done this, and yet your fervour was stronger than ever. You prayed so hard that when you opened your eyes and saw nothing there, your tears were immediately at the surface, cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so over pining for you. Either come back or leave me alone!” you wailed, pushing the laptop aside and curling up into a ball.

You didn’t see it then, but the cursor started to move as if someone was holding down the space button, creating ten pages before it stopped.

The tour ended, and you were all too grateful to wake up back home with Binks curled up beside you. Kissing your furbaby until he made it apparent that your affection was unwanted, you climbed out of bed to brew yourself some coffee.

Today, you felt free. The saga of Eternity was over and whilst you knew you would still have to do a couple more interviews here and there in the future where you would be asked about the series, and your Discord would still be hit up regularly about reviews over the final story in the trilogy, today you were at least free from the contractual sides of the story. You wouldn’t have to actively talk about Charli Evers and Brian Kang ever again.

You also hoped that one day, once your pain resolved enough, that you could reread the series and remember why you had loved it all along, instead of the jealousy and burden you felt towards it right now.

With coffee and toast held in either hand, you bounced off to your office and sat down at your desk, blinking when you found your laptop on your desk already.

Had you pulled it out of its bag last night when you got home?

Shrugging, you hit the power button and were surprised when it immediately loaded up your home screen. “I did turn you off, you finicky device.”

Lots of little things had happened since getting the screen fixed, and you had left it down to that incident messing with it. You didn’t have it in you to believe otherwise.

Opening your emails, you went through the important correspondence, threw out the spam, and moved the replied ones to their relevant folders. Once your inbox was empty, you moved onto your other admin tasks for the day, ensuring you were all caught up before you stepped back into your police officer au.

When ready, you clicked on the file, and instead of it appearing, it was a blank document. “Oh no, you don’t! There were words in this file!”

Looking at the title of the word document, you were relieved to see it untitled and not that of your current story. Clicking again on the file from your writing folder, another blank document appeared instead.

“Open it! I have to write about Sungjin and Ella!” you exclaimed, hitting the file repeatedly. Tens of blank documents appeared with your efforts until you were panting with the annoyance. Sitting back, you shook your head. “That’s it! I’m buying a new laptop! I’m done with you!”

Before you could close the screen down, however, you noticed that one document appeared and had words in it. But it wasn’t your current one. Instead, Encounter appeared on the screen, scrolling at a rapid rate to the bottom. Then it changed tabs, moving through Captivated just as fast. Finally, Eternity finished it off, the words The End simply staring back at you.

“…Brian?”

Leaning forward towards the screen, you waited to see what would happen next. Annoyed that your hopes were raised yet again, you started to close the empty tabs, leaving the three stories up. A final tab appeared, and you burst into tears as words started to appear on the screen.

It’s time to start writing our story now.

Standing up shakily, you pointed at the screen. “Hurry up then, I’ve waited far too long to write this story with you.”

The screen went blank as your heart began to thud erratically in your chest, your eyes widened whilst waiting for what would happen next. Reaching for the power button, you watched as the screen lit up.

And then you felt arms embrace you immediately. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“I don’t care right now,” you managed to say despite your emotions running down your face. Pulling back just enough so you could see Brian’s handsome face, you shook your head in disbelief. “As long as you’re here.”

“For good,” he assured, leaning in for a passionate kiss. “That world is closed and done with. Whilst ours is only beginning.”

You knew with time, you would want to know why it took so long for Brian to return and to scold him for hurting you so much. You also knew Brian would placate you in every way, and you would hear all about his equal longing and struggle without you at his side.

But for now, this was all you needed. Dream men were hard to find existing in real life. You had found yours again, and this time you wouldn’t write him in one way or another. You’d let your life together pen the journey you had at each other’s side.

Your story was about to be continued.

_________________

Epilogue

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Note

Am I don't know am "I'm sorry but... who are you?" "I'm sorry if I give you the wrong impression" and "I've got you" with Din? Maybe something like Din finding out he has a lost child?... I'm sentimental with fathers and children relationships ok?

character: Din Djarin

prompts: “I’m sorry, but... who are you?”, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” and “I’ve got you” from a prompt list that’s since been deleted!

warnings: mentions of death

rating: PG

masterlist

It’s been many moons since he last saw you. Din tries not to think about you anymore—but sometimes, he can’t help it. He wants to know what happened to you. If you ever made it out safe. If you were living a happier life now, like he wanted you to. He never wanted to force you out of his life, but it was too dangerous. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to him, but at least he knew that you were going to be in a safer situation.

The thought of you came up when Din arrived to the marketplace here on Vallera, aiming to pick up some quick supplies for the Crest. He’s returned to his life of bounty hunting after he found the child’s home—as hard as it was to leave him. He only works for Greef, who he knows is reliable and won’t mess with any other Imperial warlords. Din’s still not used to having to cut the amount of supplies down, now only having to fend for himself like he used to. He wishes it felt more natural. Instead, he finds himself feeling as if he’s always missing something, like he’s never quite complete no matter where he goes or what he does.

Din left you here on Vallera, which is why you’ve come to mind. He wonders if you’re still around. He won’t let his hopes get up—he never does. He knows you probably wouldn’t want to see him anyway. The decision for you to be left here wasn’t a well-received one by any means, and Din will never forgive himself for not trying to leave on better terms. But in the moment, his care and concern for you conquered all else, and he was able to get away fast. He knows there were still tears running down your cheeks as he turned on his heel and left. Din wanted more than anything to run back to you and wipe them away, to tell you that everything’s okay and that he’d never really leave you. Instead, he did just that. It was the best option for you and your safety.

Din lets out a soft sigh, hoping the noise doesn’t pass through his modulator as he walks through the various booths. He can hardly remember what he’s supposed to be getting, now. The thoughts of you have consumed him whole. He curses to himself, attempting to swallow back the painful feelings as he presses on. Din observes the booths as he passes them, trying to get his focus back on track. Fruits. Meats. Cloths. Health—

Suddenly, there’s a tugging on his cape. Din immediately stops, his hand brushing over his holster as he turns around to face whoever’s standing there. He sees a young girl cowering away at his rash actions. She can’t be older than eight, and instantly Din softens as he releases his hand from his blaster. He’s blown away by how familiar she looks—and his heart aches upon realizing that he’s recognizing you. It’s almost as if her face is yours but with more childlike features. Now I’m seeing her everywhere, Din thinks to himself. It’s gone too far.

“Can I help you?” Din asks the child, trying not to let his voice be too harsh nor too soft.

The child’s hands clasp nervously behind her back as she looks up at him, and Din’s heart softens upon seeing her innocence. He’s always had a soft spot for children, knowing how he ended up himself—alone. After he took the child under his wing, that softness only grew. “Are you a Mandalorian?” she asks, keeping her voice gentle. Din’s once again reminded of how much she sounds like you.

“Yes,” Din answers simply.

The little girl smiles, her dark eyes lighting up. “It’s you!” her small voice exclaims, almost cracking a bit in her joy. “Mommy told me to find you.”

Din feels confusion fill him immediately, and he bends down closer to her level as he tilts his helmet at her. “I’m sorry, but... who are you?” he questions softly.

The girl’s face falls, and Din’s heart almost shatters upon seeing her evident disappointment. “Oh,” her voice says, sounding distant. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. Mommy must’ve been talking about a different one.”

Din knows there wouldn’t be another Mandalorian, and so before the little girl can turn to leave, Din reaches forward to place his hands on her shoulders. His visor meets her eyes as he addresses her firmly. “Who’s your mother?”

When the little girl says your name, Din feels his heart practically launch into his throat. This is your daughter. Having a piece of you in his hands again makes him want to collapse with relief on the spot, but he knows he has to continue his investigation if he wants to find anything out.

“Where is she? Is she safe—are you safe?”

The little girl’s eyes start to tear up already, and Din’s heart begins to crumble inside his chest. “No.” Her small voice is a ghostly whisper, and Din’s protectiveness instantly starts to kick in. “Mommy is... gone.”

“Gone?” Din can barely recognize his own voice through its sheer emptiness.

“There were bad people,” the little girl starts to explain, swallowing back her tears. “Mommy told me to go. She said they were going to hurt us. She told me to find you.” She stops, her dark gaze looking at Din with sadness and desperation. “I’ve looked for you here everyday.” Her gaze falls again when she adds her last bit. “I went home once, but Mommy was...” She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t have to.

Din hadn’t saved her. He swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check for the sake of the last piece of you he has left: your daughter. “Why did she ask you to find me?”

The little girl’s gaze goes back to Din, and he sees a warmth there as she answers. “She said you’d help me find my Daddy.”

Din furrows his brow beneath the helmet. How could he help her find the father? Unless... Din freezes completely. The last time he was here was all those years ago. Nine years ago. He remembers that night before he left you. He remembers all the other ones just like it before that.

He can see it clearly now. The fact that this girl’s gaze looks just like his own. The brown locks that match his own untamed mane underneath his helmet. It makes sense. He’s the father.

Din feels as if he can’t breathe, but at the same time, he’s never felt so full of life before. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. “Ad’ika?”

His daughter’s eyes start to fill with tears again. “That’s what Mommy used to call me.” She then stops, her eyes widening as realization fills them. A smile grows on her lips as she looks at him. “D-Daddy?”

Din nods, kneeling down and opening his arms to her as she practically runs into them. She starts to cry with joy into the cloth of his shoulder, and Din holds her as close as he can manage. He closes his eyes and feels them tearing up, thankful for the helmet that hides such an emotional reaction from the people around them. “I’ve got you,” Din coos to his daughter. He feels a tear escape his eye. “You’re safe now, ad’ika.”

“I missed you, Daddy.” She grips the cloth beneath his armor tighter.

Din swallows back his emotions, instead pulling her even closer. “I missed you too.” Both of you, he wants to add—but somehow, he knows you’re here, even if he can’t see you.

#IM CRYING #father!din #i’ll cry #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #drabbles #dindjarindiaries

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n7punk · 4 years

Note

I was working on this digital fan art for an author whose writing I loved. However, I’ve recently become aware of some toxic behavior on their part. I’m really proud of how the art is turning out though! I even considered making another tumblr to post it so that I could hide my shame. Moment of weakness. I downloaded tumblr to look at She-ra fan art and read other people’s ramblings but I’m incredibly grateful for the thoughtful way you approached the topic. It forced me to dig deep and really think about what I support and what my support means to other people. The depth of discussion around this is hard for me to grasp (cis lesbian using she/her pronouns) but I want to and you specifically are helping me. Long way of saying thanks, I think you’re smart af. I ALSO LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!

ty! rest assured, if i ever do something transphobic, it is an accident and please correct me. I dealt with so much internalized transphobia when i came out to myself (//cw transphobia: i cant count how many hours i spent laying in my bed shouting “youre a girl! just be a girl!” to myself) and it’s hard to deprogram that shit.

The art is a tough situation, especially when you have something like that which you are proud of. If you have friends in the fandom space, perhaps you could share it privately with them so someone can still appreciate it with the appropriate caveats behind the source of the initial inspiration?

Under a read more because I don’t want to give her a voice but I wanna rant about her “apology”:

if she had been at all remorseful, that would be a different conversation, but i am 100% convinced she is a crypto-terf. She deleted her original 6-tweet response that “i’m right that this isn’t transphobic” but boy was it something, and the thin apology she posted later was not sufficient, nor did it feel at all genuine to me.

And okay, let’s pretend that excluding someone based only on their genitals isn’t inherently transphobic: it would still be problematic and hurtful, like having a mug that says “i dont do [fat people]” or any other personal feature. it is discriminating someone based on their body, and nobody would be defending that as a “personal choice” of hers, they would be calling it fatphobic (which takes us back to the part where this was absolutely transphobic).

Then she pulled the “cancel culture is toxic and hurts everybody” card in her next tweet, making herself out to be the victim in the grand scheme. These tweets were not rash reactions btw, they were spread out over the course of several hours or even a day, and she didn’t delete them for many hours afterwards either - these tweets are how she really feels, and the fact she has since deleted everything and is not addressing it shows that she doesn’t want to learn better. (She could be addressing it on her discord/patreon, idk im not on there, but I doubt it).

This isn’t the first incident with her showing disregard for others and it won’t be the last. Her server was a toxic place I legitimately felt trapped in even though I rarely spoke. My readers would notice if I left, so I was thankful when I was given an out to leave. That is when I posted about not taking requests, but I was actually leaving because of the three separate incidents where they triggered me with the disgusting and violent content they posted. They would repeatedly praise authors I have blacklisted for triggering content. If I had owned that server, I would have completely banned discussions of those works, censorship be damned. I can tell you from how she handled triggers that Silk only cares about things that negatively affect her personally. She isn’t a kind or caring person, and that would be enough to earn my block, even if she wasn’t a terf (which she is).

#anon #ask

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babysprouseisart · 4 years

Note

Honestly more things are pointing to a permanent separation for SH. No indications of any reconciliation sadly. And it makes it even harder without the confirmation. I guess when they start to get papped with their new SOs will be the day that it is confirmed they are done. And I hope it is soon. This push and pull with them is exhausting

Good day, anon, and welcome to hell. Screams for help will not save you, alas, because when it comes to a topic in which I am 99, 9% sure, I have no equals. I'm sorry you probably got the wrong address, but it's too late. I am merciless and bloodthirsty with anyone who tries to contradict my faith, tries to correct my point of view and convince me of their own, although I did not give it a reason. Because it's my fucking blog where I for x-billionth time has already expressed my exact points and agreed with some people which think and proved the exact opposite to all that you are saying. So be prepared to be slowly but surely tortured by my long ass post.

So, let's start with what I said about my blog: only good vibes here. I am not interested/concerned about other opposite/negative feedings. I just don't want to make a big deal about it. Here, in my blog, we support Lili Pauline Reinhart and Cole Mitchell Sprouse in any case as couple as well as individuals.

This means that under no circumstances do we talk about them, their relationships, their projects, their family, or their decisions in a negative way. Yes, we may disagree with something they do, where they do it, and how they do it (what they post, what they like/don't like, write or repost, who they meet, with whom they decide to be, live and communicate with, what they archive/unarchive, and so on), but we do not have the right to judge them or decide how to act. We also can't control it and it's none of our business.

I repent if I once made the appearance of a person condemning one of them or their family for their actions and possible causes of the separation, it was only my objective external disagreement, points and thoughts aloud, nothing more rude, involved and inappropriate. And I think with many of my words said earlier (or the words of those I follow and reblog their posts) about the behavior of family/friends of Lili, Cole, and so on, people with brains and common sense could agree. Remember this, or write it on your forehead, so that the next time you write to me, you will see these words.

Moving on, taking into account all of the above, I would like to tell you that it probably won't be enough for one blog to explain to you point by point all my beliefs and points of view on this subject, to prove to you that every fucking word you say is illogical shit and the most real nonsense. It feels like you're an alien who fell from another planet and decided to crawl into our hole with your impressions of a newborn baby who doesn't understand much about the world and its creators. Although in this case, I'm more of the opinion that you are a little asshole, in which the vein of hatred is boiling and you like to come to this and some other blogs to tell us your agenda although we have no idea where you have such rash thoughts, perhaps you have an extra chromosome? Dude, treat your paranoia.

Further, given that I don't have much time and desire to describe all my points of view point by point, which, unlike your random set of words, really makes sense for hundreds or even thousands of people who have the gray matter to be able to think, I will attach my long - standing post, indicating all the facts at that time proving the opposite to yours. Although, I will try to supplement everything else as much as I can.

While, we all ( I hope) already realized and accepted that for many reasons, during this quarantine, Lili and Cole had some problems, were distant and ended up apart for a certain period of time, immediately after the end point of the explosion and informing us of all these public actions on social media (I hope you understand), then after a few weeks, they were already confidently moving towards resolution and recovery and that's why:

https://babysprousehart.tumblr.com/post/618026656780648448/hello-i-hope-this-doesnt-come-off-negatively

This was written long before, but still has many valid points and I just want to widen some of them.

Take a sit and follow me word by word.

I shall start my addition of evidence, based on all the guesses and great opinions of others, as well as hints from the Lili and Cole themselves. I would like to start with a significant event and the day when Lili posted a photo from the Antelope Valley on April 28th, well, or 27th, depending on where you are.

Perhaps we lose some missing pieces in this puzzle and forget about something that was done earlier, but I just want to start counting from this moment.

A few facts about this photo/photos:

1) It was posted exactly 3 years later from their famous photoshoot, when very, very, very many people, mostly in media, began to suspect that there is something between them in a romantic way. It was exactly in the same place, exactly with the same style, exactly in a similar image (waving curly hair, light flying dress, black and white effect) and even without a capture. The picture marked the anniversary and is very important for the two of them. An undeniable fact, beat me.

2) That photo was definitely taken by Cole. Why?

Here are a couple more facts in addition to the first:

They have the quality of captured on professional camera.

You can see, that Lili did not tag the photographer and said jokingly that the photo was taken by Milo, why would she lie, or hide that it was anyone else, because clearly she just hid that because it was Cole.

You may have noticed that Austin, when asked who took the photo, whether she took it and whether she is a good photographer, says no and her reaction with a grin and laugh is priceless. She also didn't tag nor the photographer, neither Lili in her photos from there.

You can watch the vlog in the Colleen blog and see there are very similar figures to Cole, Lili and Milo walking along the valley, because, duh, they were there.

You can view her post, where you can see Cole from the back (notice his dark clothing, the same as on one of his post in the profile, which he has already deleted, as well as his position from which the photo of Lili was supposedly taken and it is just in the same place).

You can observe his style of photography and how similar the theme is to the photos from 2017.

You can see the same poppy behind his ear in one of the past stories.

You may have noticed that the photo of Lili is processed with the same effect as several photos in Cole's profile, and I can tell you as an amateur photo editor that it is very identical.

Question: why arrange such a significant photoshoot with your ex after a few weeks of separation? Why is Cole smiling in a photo (black and white one with a mustache and black clothes) probably taken there? Why is everything so secretive if they broke up? Why even post a photo that your ex-boyfriend definitely took? How can you calmly go to this place, which reminds you of your joint travels with your former lover? Therefore, this photo and later another one from there were the first iron arguments in confirming the improvement of things.

I would like to continue with another ironclad proof.

Lili in early may very fiercely, after a few weeks of Cole's statements about slander and threats, which she did not respond to so clearly at the time, defended Cole and pointed out the private relationship and literally said that people should stop it and even though should hurt and bully her, but not him.

Question: did she defend her ex so publicly? Would Lili talk about a private relationship if that was the way her past relationship was most often? Would she have written anything at all if she didn't care about him and didn't feel something towards him? I don't think so, so it's gibberish to say so (about the break up) when it's the second unquestionable argument.

Next, we need to talk about the general activity of Cole and Lili in social media. I just want to list some observations, in different order, but it seems like everything we have now:

If earlier it was visible in the posts of Lili that it was clearly a show off, then over time and after the published photos, she began to behave more sincerely and tenderly, began to publish Milo less, began to say that there was only the two of them less, has stopped showing how good she is without certain someone, as if for Cole showing that she could cope without him, which was visible in the posts and stories, she began to talk more about improving her mental health as a result of training, spoke about how later she was feeling better and that she was grateful for those who were with her and difficult times and in light moments, that you just need to live and enjoy.

Additionally, I can say how she shone with each photo, and it was a natural glow of happiness and settling down. She no longer sang sad songs or posted sad songs, on the contrary, posted sexy, funny and relaxed ones. She appeared more in photos taken by paparazzi. She posted sexy, energetic, romantic movies, funny cartoons, watched funny clips, was excited about her project, laughed, danced with her dog, played with a dog with macaroni, cosplayed Willy Wonka (we all have a feeling it’s Cole’s thing, no?), playing with sand, puzzles, posted funny memes in story, which unfortunately coolly accepted as the opposite, posted a poem with a typo and funny answered to a fan who corrected it, told more about poems and attached a photo with a fragment of a poem about love from her upcoming book. She liked some photos from the anniversary of the last episode of the series, where we remember there was a hot scene of her and Cole's character, she liked a Bughead drawing. Yesterday, she actually posted one of the sexiest videos that will not be posted, being single and lonely, we saw that she actually spent more personal time with Cole (I am not saying they weren’t doing t back then), which was investigated thanks to many amazing people here, and even if they don't live together yet, they are more likely to meet and have met with each other, and more hints on sexy times (because, come one, maybe Milo was the one who left a hickey on her neck, huh?), which is undeniable, just compare the fact that she is no longer in the old rental, and he is not in Kj's house, she then posted a photo from some place, which is very similar to where Cole shot a video with Jimmy Fallon.

He also began to be more active in social networks, exactly after she started posting photos of the Antelope Valley, he posted a series of photos of the kissing couple, even if it was a gay drawings, they were filled with love, there was a photo of him with cattle with the sarcastic caption, then the photo about porn bots, with funny ask to leave him alone and saying it’s not allowed to be horny on quarantine, again a photo of himself with heart eyes that I talked about above, he posted a very funny video recently. There were more photos from the paparazzi after some time when Lili's usually flashed, and then it stopped, then his humorous photo in the washing machine appeared, which she probably had taken, and why so I explained in the attached post, he posted a photo from the walk, which was also probably taken with her, because again, she had a similar location, then he jokingly called Tommy ‘the’ muse, maybe roasting fans, but he didn’t use ‘my’, so, indicating he still has his own muse, then we saw him at that damn party, which caused people's panic, although he is an ordinary person and has the right to relax, and by the way at this party he was very happy and frisky, but nothing bad or shameful happened and he is innocent, then we even saw Cole, after Lili, delete many of the photos, although he had also unarchived some of them several times, as she had, which means that he did not delete them completely, but just removed many of them, leaving the most tender photo after or before the kiss at the famous moment when Lili wanted a toast and eggs at 1 am, or many photos reflecting her body, which also marks not a bad phenomenon, but a simple trolling from them. Proof of this trolling and unarchiving is on the vastness of other blogs and on Twitter, thanks to that girl's video.

The way their condition and activity on social networks have changed is very noticeable and is also third undeniable fact of denial of the break up. You can compare photos of Cole taken by Alex, where he is clearly very sad and depressed, because it was taken somewhere in the interval of their real breakup. And compare this with his smiling and playful state during the interview with Jimmy, where he also sparkled with happiness and fun, constantly smiling and seemed to be aroused about something (or someone). I think even a newcomer will notice a change in their mood and attitude. You will see the difference. And this does not happen when going through the break up after 4 years of deeply imbued with love relationships. Please understand, damn it.

I have listed alas not everything that speaks so vividly about things going in the right positive direction and is evidence that everything is getting better again, there will be only more I assure you and you will kiss my ass, as Cole said.

Execution cannot be pardoned.

You have one attempt to put a comma and decide your fate, but I think you’ll fail because you are a total sucker anyway.

Bye!

#cole sprouse #lili reinhart #sprousehart #sprousehart positivity #sh positivity #bughead #only good vibes here #positivity #anon hate #anon ask #ask #cole and lili #relationship #break up #not a break up #shut up dumbass

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katzirra · 3 years

Text

Waiting for the place to give me my file list from my hand drive recovery. Made an omelet with asparagus and bacon, and gave the boys a tiny bit for being good this morning and letting me sleep in past 8:06...

Hannibal woke me up with very loudly aggressively loving face rubs which is new, and has been demanding attention all morning by soft paw grabbing and holding my hand while cooking, also new. Usually he's very independent and wants nothing to do with us.

Still concerned with his audible breathing when he's SLIGHTLY distressed, for a cat with obvious anxiety, and when he's picked up or sitting/laying weird. It's very noticeable, and I'm wondering if it has to do with his nasal bridge being a tad flat.

Trying to manifest a good mood. I'm having a big existential crisis about being alive.

Which, I'll just throw that under a cut and pair it with an apology. 🤙✨

I feel like I have no purpose or meaning. Having a lot of those "why bother/what's the point" moments about a lot of things which...the depth of those feelings isn't just apathetic like most people experience? For me it's very much a red flag, so that's been fun. Usually it's doing something as simple as doing something nice for myself, thinking why bother, and having to ARGUE with myself why it matters. Like...having to validate EVERYTHING I do these days is exhausting. Honestly, it's been a low simmer scary JUST KEEP SWIMMING the last few months. But everything I feel is too much to talk to anyone about, and it doesn't HELP me to. It's me. It's my brain. It's scary and I don't like looking the beast directly in the face when people want me to open up. My demon, my problem, trust me when I say I'm trying and that I'm sincere when I say sorry I'm not all here or present.

I'm, like torn between wanting to message my friend first to talk about shit, but I'm also refusing because I was hurt and the comment about shit being too much to read just resonates in my brain yelling "you're not worth their time and effort, you dumb bitch!" because my brain has a FIELD day with that shit. Its.... Kicking a dead horse, repeating myself anyway probably. It hasn't seemed to stick after the last year of me apologizing monthly because I'm just a shit friend who is too busy working and trying to not kill myself. Suicide ideation is a thing, and it SUCKS when it's as invasive as it is for intruding thoughts. But I'll keep apologizing because I feel guilty for not being good enough. Present enough. Engaging enough. Because maybe that time it'll stick??

They'll probably be better off without me making them feel bad because I don't put in enough effort I guess? Which also just hurts because I know online I'm standoffish these days, so I put the extra effort into being a good host I thought and I hoped that mattered. I just feel like no matter what I'm doomed to disappoint them? So I don't mean they'd be better off in a dismissive way, it's a legit...way I think. Like I'm obviously causing distress, and yelling at me won't fix it because it makes me recoil emotionally. So maybe I'm just a bad friend in reality and it is what it is. I'm sorry so many people have fucked me up about inter personal relationships?? I don't know what to do this time because that stupid fight cut me very deep in core values in myself.

It...Fucked me up. And whether that's important to them or not, or whether it has an repercussive weight, whatever. We've both been hurt by people, and been there as much as we'd let eachother. I've tried to be crazy supportive in the last bout of shit they went through. Because I love a bitch, and they matter immensely to me, and I know I suffered alone through a LOT of things like that and know it sucks. I offered my home, attention and time any time I could give it.. Being told i don't give as much as them set weird on my heart in light of that. It hurt.

Idk...And maybe I'm just some dramatic bitch or whatever I guess. Doesn't matter. I matter, my feelings matter. I'm mentally ill and I fucking bust my ass to deal with it, AND be a loving and supportive fixture in people's lives. I suck, sure. But I'm ALWAYS there for people.

I mention I'm depressed or angry at life, sure, but the layers of distress aren't...on display? It's my shit to deal with, if I bring it up, it's for benefit of people knowing why I'm withdrawn usually. I don't talk about myself much anymore because everything is too much and I just start venting. And people don't care that deeply about how fucked up my head is. Or I over share too much. Or yeah, it's a lot to read and I start babbling because the cork is off and I HURT inside just being alive anymore. I don't feel like I'm living my life for me these days. I don't feel alive. I feel stagnant. I'm biding time for SOMETHING to happen??

Yet I'm constantly apologizing to people for not being able to do basic shit, that I'm upfront about being difficult for some dumb reason. I'm always having to explain myself to people. I am in this bubble so often of feeling like I was made wrong, a mistake, missing something important.

Or that I'm a bad person. I'm too open, too closed, withdrawn, outgoing - I can never seem to get the ratio right. And its the kind of discussion I feel leans into self pity and attention grabbing but it's...something I internally struggle with every week and keep to myself.

Oh Kat, get a psychiatrist - I dont know that it would help, honestly. I know 90% of my thoughts and fears are irrational, and pointless. But I know they have valid backing in trauma that I have mostly dealt with, and am unlearning. But I also know I see through people, can identify those markers, and understand outcomes way too easy and that ALSO makes people mad. So. What the fuck is a shrink gonna do for me? My depression is a background white noise to this stuff, and it's honestly just bullshit I deal with. I'm not keen on medication, I'm sure it would help quiet my brain, but I've been dealing with this shit almost 20 years now, ita just the added drama and bullshit from people that exacerbates the emotional brain rash, for lack of a better phrasing. My issues are all behavioral and some depression and anxiety in the mix that I manage.

For all I'm told people understand ahit wrong with me, it sure is something I repeatedly get bitched at over, honestly. And I partially get it, I also find it frustrating. But I've been battling depression since I was 12/13 and learning to stop thinking certain things only since 21, and that's the harder part. I'm not the person people think I am, I wish I was anymore. That bitch died in 2011/2012. That fissure in my foundation fucked me UP. The shaking I had one or two years ago, didn't help.

To be transparently honest the whole shitstorm two weeks ago really hit some raw nerves I'm trying to deal with, and not doing well. Because the more times that nerve is hit the more I don't feel like a valuable person and that I'm wasting people's time. But the reason I'm yelled at is that I am a valuable person, and they want more of my time in a way?? I don't know what people want from me.

Waves hand dismissively - they're being sweethearts by the back door for now.

I'm in a weird place emotionally and mentally. I don't feel alive. I don't feel real. I don't feel valid or... I don't know. Nothing I say or so actually matters in my own life or experiences. I can be an amazing person with communication and intention but it doesn't matter if the other person doesn't care, it's like arguing online.

You can have a valid discussion and someone can just say "you're a fucking moron, I'm not listening to this" and you can't do anything.

I just wasted two hours organizing my thoughts qnd emotions into a post that I'll delete in a week. What a great use of my time. I'm juat exhausted.

I turn 31 tomorrow and is rather be dead lmao. I'm so tired of the weight of being alive and aware of the world and people around me. About being considerate and kind to everyone and it's never god damn enough. I bleed myself dry emotionally for everyone and run my mental battery into the ground qnd it's never enough. It's never going to BE enough. I don't want mental.break downs and emotional roller-coasters. I want friends that understand I'm scatterbrained and severely damaged and abused and I'm TRYING. I'm sorry it's never good enough.

I'm so fucking tired these days. I just want to disappear. I want to have an actual breakdown and cry

I haven't actually cried in years. I.... Mm. I feel like.im a shell. I'm so tired. I'm trying AO hard to be a good person and functional and I'm just constantly having more dished and I'm just...what is my purpose qnd point these days. I can't even make people happy.

Tomorrow I'll turn 31. It'll be like any other day. 👍✨

#kat life #ignore me

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biaswreckermagnet · 4 years

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Fate: The Winx Saga - My Thoughts and Critique - Part 1: Characters

Be warned: The following post will be quite long as I have a lot to say. Please note that this is all my personal opinion and this is just the thoughts and critique of someone that has watched the original Winx Club several time and I have watched the new Winx Saga, and this is in no way a blind hatred based on only word of mouth and seeing half a trailer. Enjoy

I will be comparing this new series to the original 4Kids version, as this is the version I hold close to my heart and grew up watching. So if there are any plot differences I describe from the animation, it is probably due to the slight changes made in the Nick Dub, which some people will know best (example, in 4Kids dub, Aisha’s name is Layla, and Sparks is known as Domino in the Nick dub)

CHARACTERS

Well, I have a lot to say about the characters, just like anyone else. I’ll break down, the casting, compare the character to the animation, and their personality in the Netflix series.

Bloom

The actress chosen in my opinion was a good choice. The problem I have, is her personality. They got the determination and hot-head traits right, of course. But in the animation, Bloom is warm, friendly and bubbly. Easy-going and popular among her peers. I don’t know if they were trying to appeal to the oh-so-angsty teenagers that don’t want to go outside and have few friends. The typical “I’m not like other girls” trope. Tropes are popular, and as someone who has written stories in the past, I have used that trope once, but usually it’s a trope I like when it’s to show the character’s beauty compared to others who may be catty and selfish; not so beautiful on the inside. Here, to me, Bloom is just unlikable. She may be angsty and a rebellious teen, blah blah blah, but she was so rude to people like her Earth mother, and inconsiderate of her own actions and how it could affect those around her. Even if Aisha told her “That is a bad idea, you’re going to regret it” she runs along and does it anyway, and then she gets into a bad situation which also affects everyone, Even if she helps clean up the mess, damage is still done.

In Fate, Bloom’s relationship with her parents is not amazing. Yes, she’s an angsty, rebellious teen who almost kills them because she lost control of her power, but I found this cold, rude relationship so unnecessary. As a teen, sometimes it may seem like no one is listening nor can understand, parents just seem nosy and overbearing, but communication is key. That’s what I find so many shows are missing now: communication.

Looking at Bloom’s relationship with her parents in the animation, it’s not only simpler for them to know from the start that she has powers, but it makes the communication between both parties better. This strong relationship Bloom and her parents have is always present, but we see the beauty of it in Season 1, episode 13, “Meant to Be” when Mike and Vanessa sit her down and talk to her about how they realised she had magic before that fateful meeting with Stella.

There is none of that warmth and love now. Bloom curses at her mother, gives her attitude and is overall just a brat. Bloom may feel remorse towards herself for burning her mother, but then, why is the attitude towards her so ugly? I really don’t like it.

Aisha/Layla

Next is Aisha, who is the only character that was not whitewashed from the original. The only reason I think she wasn’t is because the creators of Winx Saga knew there would be a true uproar if they dared to replace her with someone non-black.

She is the general voice of reason in the group, and the babysitter of Bloom and company. She will support and be the shoulder for Bloom to lean on in a few cases, but generally she’s the only one calling Bloom out for being rash and insensible, but then she gets ignored or sneered at for it, despite rbeing the only one with awareness for consequences.

There isn’t much to compare to with her animated version except for her being athletic; made very obvious in episode one where she says “I swim twice a day, every day”. (Even though that is the only episode we see her following said routine.) Other than that, her backstory is not expanded upon like the animation, obviously due to the lack of screen time and actual length of the Netflix series, therefore for me, I didn’t really bond with her character like in the original.

Stella

The actress is pretty. Not too hard to cast a pretty blonde in a series. Moving on.

In the original Winx, I adore Stella. She’s bubbly, she’s fun, she’s bright. Literally the sunshine of the group. Yes, she has her snooty privileged princess moments, but she is a likable snooty, privileged princess. Why? She showed that she really does care for her friends. Stella can be self-centered and insecure, but she’s never afraid to say that she’s wrong when she realises her mistakes. This is shown several times, but right now I can speak of two instances: Season 1, Episode 8 “Spelled”. Technically, she was under a spell that made her moody and rude, but she still knew she had to set things right after upsetting Musa. Another memorable moment for me when she showed her caring side was during the girls’ stay at the no-magic resort in Season 2, episode 21 ““Trouble in Paradise”. She went after Aisha/ Layla to check if she was all right, they connected and Stella earned her Charmix. Overall, Stella in the animation has her flaws, but she is loved by all and she herself loves the people she’s close to.

However, Stella in Winx Saga, I detest. I was really disappointed with what they did to her character. Honestly, it would have made more sense if she was Diaspro (Sky’s ex-fiance from season 1 and 3) and not Stella. She’s a snob, rude and dismissive of others’ feelings. They did try to toss a sympathy card at our faces later when they eplained the reason why Winx Saga Stella is so - her toxic, overbearing and abusive mother - but honestly, maybe it was because it happened so fast because of the limited time, butI was not feeling any sympathy towards her. I felt like I should have, but I couldn’t. I hope her character changes in Season 2, if I even bother watching it, because I was enormously disappointed with Stella’s new persona for this first season. The Solaria ring was nice enough though.

Musa

Well, here we go. One of the infamous whitewashing cases. To tell the truth, I'm not surprised but disappointed that it acueallyhappened. You mean to tell me they couldn't find any capable Asian actresses for Musa? Yes, small production and low budget, but still. If you are going to make a live action for a cast that is well loved, respected and recognised for the diversity, you should keep it. It just feels like they do it on purpose at this point.

Winx Club Musa I like a lot. I love all the girls, but she's just so laid-back and cool, but she's not afraid to call someone out for being unfair or on their attitude (namely Stella most times). She cares for her friends and she cares for Riven. She's family oriented and she's so passionate about music.

In Winx Saga, she's a mind fairy who used to be a dancer and listens to music with headphones to block out the emotions of people around her when she gets overwhelmed. Interesting new concept and it comes in handy for the new show material. I wouldn't say she was completely unlikable in the WS series but there wasn't anything much besides her ability and that she and Sam (Terra's brother) had somehting more than a fling going on. They were a nice couple. Good chemistry in kisses. I don't know why they decided to not make Riven her man - who knows what the plan is. Riven was not hers in the beginning of the animation either, but we saw a great bond form later on. Their relationship had problems unlike the other Winx couples, but they still are a fan favourite. Let's see how this new match goes I guess?

Flora/Terra

Terra We all know she's supposed to be Flora, no matter how they try to spin it. Before anyone says she's a different character so it's not whitewashing, I have seen a video on Youtube where a girl explains that in actuality, it was supposed to be Flora because there are (now deleted) clips of characters talking to Flora, not Terra. And the adresses portfolio said she was to play Flora. They seemed to change it to avoid heating up the hot water they had already landed themselves into.

Therefore, I will be comparing Terra and Flora. I was extremely disappointed when I saw the trailer and realised Flora was clearly not there. I am not usually one to care whether or not someone looks like me in a show, but I do relate to Flora. I may not always be one that likes to get close to nature honestly, but everything else about her I relate to. I love pink a lot, I am a mixed race person so her looks are what I identify with the most, and our personalities are quite similar.

Terra, on the other hand, is obviously white. The love of plants is there and her sweet and gentle personality is there. Though, it doesn’t get much time to shine because whenever she speaks, she’s either cut off or ignored, unless she’s spouting information the others want to hear at the moment. They did make her quite chatty, and at times even I was a bit annoyed, not because she was chatty, but because that trait just seemed to be a gateway for the scriptwriters to hit you with details about Alfea and its history, and information about fairies without making much effort. Terra didn’t have much screen time, but whenever she was on screen, she was always the butt of a joke and treated poorly. When the situation became dire, she did have some moments of strength, but then the other characters still treated her the same so it seems meaningless.

One main reason Terra stands out to the audience is the fact that she’s the only plus-sized character. I’m all for representation, but I don’t like where they went with Terra. She’s shown to be insecure about her body (shown when she avoids her roommates to change alone). Yes, she’s supposed to be a teen who has heard non-directed comments about weight by other characters, but why couldn’t they make her a confident plus-sized girl? I have plenty of friends that are plus-sized and confident about themselves, older or younger. In media, it’s rare enough to see a plus-sized person, but also one that has confidence. This show is directed to teens, and those who may look and feel the same as Terra won’t have a good example set for themselves to be more confident. If you’re going to include a certain figure in your story, yes, everyone has insecurities and all, but if you have the power to shine light and empower, do it right!

Sky

One reason why I bothered watching the show. Danny Griffin. The man playing Sky. Iin the original Winx, I did not really care for Sky as I’m not really into the long blonde hair, I prefer shorter hair. So I was quite pleased to see this casting as it fits more into my personal type.

Anyways, let’s continue.

I found that the casting was done well for Sky. A hot blonde warrior that can wield weapons well? They nailed it. However, that’s kind of where it ended for me. Due to the plot, his character was pretty much ruined for me. Winx Saga Sky was sadly unremarkable personality-wise. The story didn’t allow for much expansion for him besides having the hots for Bloom and the whole boo-hoo story about his father. There was something of a nice relationship with his mentor, but I’ll get to that later.

Danny Griffin’s performance was quite good. My only issue was one part of his first appearance where his first few lines. . .sounded like lines. Not so much the result of bad acting, but it just was another case of sounding like lines written for a script than natural conversation. But I only really saw that in the first episode, and since everyone would have been getting into character at that time I can let it pass. Otherwise, he performed well as an actor.

Riven

Winx Club Riven does not have the best first impression. According to Musa, he’s “a little rough around the edges, but that’s kind of his charm”. He’s a troubled, moody guy who falls for the wrong girl. He has a very competitive side, especially with Sky, who always manages to beat him in combat. He is indeed often arrogant of his abilities, but he proved himself to not be just all talk during his escape from imprisonment in Cloud Tower during Season 1, and even Sky admitted to being impressed with his knowledge of survival and strategies, even going so far as to say he always thought Riven was the “Red Fountain Slacker”. Animated Riven also has a sweet side that was displayed in season 2 when he comforted Musa during the girls’ first mission to Shadowhaunt, and much more so after they started dating. He expressed how much he cared for Musa in shy but blunt ways. Flawed, but a character that developed throughout the series.

Winx Saga completely threw that out of the window. Riven is now just a clown that does bad boy things. He’s clearly still being portrayed as the “edgy” character with troubles and insecurities, but the rest of the show is so aggressively dark and edgy that he really has no way to stand out anymore. I don’t know what they’re planning to do with his characterr later on, but I really dislike what they did to him. The only thing done right is his competitive nature towards Sky. Side note, this is also my personal preference, but I must add that I am not feeling the minimal facial hair. I’d prefer a clean shaven face. The little spikes just looks messy. But then, facial hair always looks messy to me.

Faragonda

Faragonda. Or as she is known now, Farah Dowling. I’m not sure what to say for her. The actress did well, I can say that. The problem always lies with the characters themselves.

Faragonda is a beloved headmistress that always has an eye out for her students, whether she watches them through her magic mirror in her office or just personally. She gives them enough guidance so they can grow on their own and helps them when she sees the need to. However, she is also strict when needed and will not condone disobedience; this was seen in season 1 when the Winx were punished for breaking into Cloud Tower to get Stella’s ring from the Trix. She is a brave, just and kind woman, well suited for a principal position.

Farah Dowling does not have much besides her position. She’s very secretive and those secrets seem to be there to cause drama when it could have ben avoided. It could be an irrational thought process that humans have, but I’d expect that from someone who hasn’t experienced much in life. The type of past Farah has, she should know better than to keep secrets if she knows it can put the whole school in danger. Her lack of disciplinary action was evident, whether it was the scene of a villain making their move or Bloom blatantly disobeying orders and making choices that moved the plot forward a bit. It was odd to see that even if she knew this person went dilly-dallying in her office or broke a rule, ut wasn’t met with discipline unless something really bad happened. Whereas, we all know that in a school setting, small rule breaking is also punished. I did like the part in the last episode when she and Bloom finally had a warm interaction, I found it very sweet and it was nice to finally have her interact with Bloom without having to expect some impending doom to arise in the next scene.

Beatrix

We did not get the stylish trio we know and love for Winx Saga, but I must say, I was not disappointed by Sadie Soverall. She portrayed the character really well.

She’s a blending of the famous Trix. She’s cunning and does not let anyone get in her way, much like Icy. Seductive like Darcy and I’d say she has Stormy’s malicious nature. (I mean the Trix are all malicious but Stormy generally could let her viciousness rule her judgement). As well as the fact that her power kind of looks like electric bolts, like Stormy’s.

A manipulator that was being manipulated. She’s icy cold, cunning and she knows who she should attach herself to in order to reach her goals. Just a sub-villain I say, but I enjoyed the character. Minus the odd little plots her character was mixed into, which I will discuss later.

Rosalind

A new character who so far seems like the puppet master of all the characters - both good and evil sides. A master manipulator and charismatic. Very enjoyable to watch despite her short screen time. She was the one person that actually had me excited to know what was going to happen next. Very well performed in my opinion.

Mike

The only time I saw this actor truly in character was in the last episode when he was wearing this blue shirt. He really looked like Mike. It may always be necessary to dress a character exactly like the original, but some things are just subtle and yet iconic. Imagine Shaggy from Scooby-Doo without his green shirt and brown pants combo. It wouldn’t feel like him. Otherwise he’s quite a basic looking man so not too hard to cast. I do think this actor really matched Mike though - looks wise, at least.

With Mike, there are less interactions with Bloom besides having very basic “How are you doing?”conversations. There’s a lame joke here and there but nothing really worth commenting over.here now The focus when it came to mentioning the parents in Winx Saga was mostly to Vanessa.

Vanessa

Vanessa in the original series is warm, loving and a good mother. She and Bloom have a strong relationship and have great communication between them, and Bloom not only respects her but also goes to Vanessa when she needs advice and support. The ideal mother-daughter bond.

Date’s Vanessa is more. . .trying to be a good mother but not quite nailing it. As I mentioned during Bloom’s analysis, she’s met with hostility or downright rudeness if she even mentions going out and making friends to her daughter. There were a few moments when it could have been touching to see thieir interactions, but apart from the scene when Bloom was feeling homesick, it felt a bit rushed. Perhaps it was the acting, perhaps it was that the awkward interactions overruled the positive ones, but the Winx Saga relationship between Bloom and Vanessa didn’t feel as connected.

In conclusion, mot of the acting was well done. The issues I have were mostly due to the writing of the characters, not the ability of the actors.

Other minor characters will be analysed during the plot discussion.

#winx club #winx saga #fate winx club #bloom #sky #musa #flora #terra #aisha #layla #riven #4kids dub #netflix #2021 #winx alfea

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blossom-hwa · 4 years

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Leave an Angel - JENO

i fucking deleted the original post i’m so fucking stupid

YES I know it’s been MONTHS since I updated this series but inspiration is very fickle and it seems to have finally hit!

Thank you to those who keep reading this series and sending me beautiful messages about it - you all really, truly are the reason why I find the strength to continue this. In particular thank you @hyucksong for your lovely comments on Believe a Demon - your words helped inspire me to continue Jeno’s story! And of course, thank you @chenle for allowing me to use her guardian devil idea that sparked this series! if you want to read it, here it is!

Pairing: Jeno x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon!au

Triggers: death, cancer (not as much as in “Love a Demon” though)

Notes: reading the other stories aren’t necessary to understanding this story - however, it might be helpful to read “Love a Demon,” and the other member’s stories are mentioned here as well, so reading the other parts will shed some more light on the series as a whole.

Word Count: 9.5k

Loving a demon comes at a price.

NCT Masterlist | Angels and Demons

You really aren’t doing anything, just leaning against a shelf of CDs, eyes closed, head bobbing slightly to the beat of the song playing in your brother’s shop. And yet Jeno can’t take his eyes off of you.

A new assignment. You shouldn’t be anything to Jeno but a simple star imprinted into his left wrist, someone he has to save when the time comes. But you might be one of the most simplistically beautiful people Jeno has ever seen, and that makes you dangerous.

Maybe not dangerous in the traditional sense. You (probably) won’t come at him with a knife or gun, but even if you did, Jeno could easily fight you off. No, feelings are far more dangerous than any weapon. Look at what happened to Chenle. Maybe the fallen angel is happy now, but at what cost?

Jeno is happy now. He will not make things more complicated because of strange feelings. He’ll do his duty, and that includes knowing your face so he can save you when the time comes.

He’s not stalking you. He really isn’t, or so he tells himself. Sure, you can’t see him – no one can, he’s made himself invisible – and he’s watching you, but it’s all for his job. It’s all because you’re his assignment.

The tiny voice in the back of his head says otherwise, though.

Scowling slightly, Jeno wills his thoughts to go away. You are an assignment, nothing more, nothing less. He now knows what you look like. Now he can save you when needed.

He takes one last look at your pretty face and then leaves, disappearing in a flash of light.

. . . . .

When the star first burns on Jeno’s wrist, he doesn’t wait. Years of practice have honed the instinct and in less than a second, he’s disappearing from his conversation with Renjun into a shower of light.

Immediately, he homes in on your stunned face and the huge block falling from the crane overhead. His arm stretches out to grab your limp hand and pull you to safety –

But someone gets there first. Someone he never thought he’d see again.

What is he doing here?

But there are too many people around to ask questions, and based off of your clear, confused eyes, you’re an exception, which just makes everything worse. So he beckons to Jaemin, all the while avoiding his gaze as much as possible, and reappears in a small alleyway.

You and Jaemin materialize into existence less than a second later. The demon wastes no time. “What are you doing here?” he yells.

“She’s my assignment, what about you?” Jeno snaps. His gaze locks on Jaemin’s hand still holding yours and a wave of bitter jealousy crashes through his chest.

Your hand shouldn’t be in Jaemin’s. It should be in his. You’re Jeno’s assignment, not Jaemin’s.

The lack of response from Jaemin brings a smug smile to Jeno’s lips and he looks up again, ready to berate Jaemin for interfering in matters that don’t belong to him. But Jaemin’s eyes are filled with confusion, not venom, so Jeno closes his mouth, equally confused.

“How can she be your assignment when she’s mine?”

“Stop lying,” Jeno retorts automatically, but Jaemin’s demeanor makes him pause. Years spent in heaven together have given Jeno a window into Jaemin’s character and he can easily tell when the demon is lying.

There are no indications of untruth in Jaemin’s expression and Jeno’s stomach flips. How can any of this be possible? There’s never been any account of a human having more than one guardian, so assuming Jaemin’s telling the truth, how can Jeno be your guardian as well?

“No lie, Jael.” Jaemin’s smirk makes Jeno want to slap him. Gone is any hint of warmth in his expression, any clue that the two of them used to be best friends. A pang hits Jeno’s heart but Jaemin’s next words push it away.

“Lost your touch? Can’t tell when I’m lying or not anymore?”

That hurts. And maybe it shouldn’t hurt that much, to hear Jaemin taunt him and call him by his God-given name, but it does. Jeno’s scowl deepens.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarls. “You don’t deserve to.”

“Um, guys?” Your small voice cuts into their argument, diffusing some of the tension beginning to build. Jeno looks over and immediately feels guilty when he sees your white knuckles clutching your bag and the cautious confusion in your eyes. “What… what’s going on?”

Jeno sneaks a look at Jaemin. Who will be the one to explain?

“I saw the block falling… and then someone pulled me away? Who was it?”

The green jealousy wraps around Jeno’s heart again. He wishes he could say it was him, but he isn’t a liar. So he only watches with narrowed eyes as Jaemin claims responsibility.

Your soft smile eases some of the bitterness Jeno feels, even though it’s mostly directed at Jaemin. He almost finds himself relaxing until you utter your last three words, smiling at Jaemin.

“I owe you.”

Jeno clenches his fist. He can’t stay quiet any longer. “No, you don’t,” he snaps. “It was his job.”

“Job?” You look very lost, once again.

Jeno ignores the murderous look Jaemin throws at him. “Why do you ruin everything, Ja – Jeno? Now we have to tell her!”

He flinches. He tries not to. But somehow, Jaemin not using his God-given name hurts a little more than him using it.

Why did he say anything? He promised himself not to get involved in any sort of feelings with you, but here he is, saying stupid things because for once, he can’t keep his mouth shut. Still, he has to maintain a façade. So he only shrugs slightly.

“We’re…” Jaemin sighs. “Well, he’s a guardian angel.” He jerks a thumb sharply at Jeno. “And, um, I’m a demon. A guardian demon.”

Silence.

“Angels and demons exist?”

“Yes, they do.” Jeno flashes a tiny smirk at Jaemin, who curbs his annoyance, but not quickly enough for Jeno to not notice. A rush of mean satisfaction runs down Jeno’s spine.

“I’ve never heard of a guardian demon before,” you murmur, looking between the two boys. Your gaze lingers a bit longer on Jaemin. Jeno tries not to be annoyed.

“Well, now you have.” Jaemin laughs a little.

It’s too hard to not be annoyed. Jeno allows the feelings to flood through him, tired of keeping them at bay. He glares at his former best friend.

“So I have a guardian angel and a guardian demon?” you ask. Jeno’s annoyance fades away, replaced with concern for you. You’re taking it surprisingly well, however. “How come I’ve never seen either of you until now?”

“Well, technically you’re only supposed to have one.” Jeno grimaces. “Either an angel or a demon. But I guess the universe screwed up this time,” he continues, emphasizing the words “screwed up.” The look he sends Jaemin is nothing less than poisonous. “And we only appear when you’re in a life or death situation, like just now.”

Slowly, you nod. “Interesting,” you mumble. “Well, it was nice meeting you…?”

Names. You want names. Jeno panics for a second, instinctively glancing at Jaemin. They come to a wordless agreement before tearing their eyes away.

“Jaemin.”

“Jeno.”

“It was nice meeting you, Jaemin and Jeno.” You bow slightly to them both, the sweet smile back on your face. “I’ll leave now.” You begin to turn around, then turn back again. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Jeno wishes the smile you flash Jaemin was directed at him.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Jaemin’s smile is soft, so soft. Jeno hates him for it. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Jeno’s eye twitches and he misses your reply. It doesn’t matter. Once you’re gone, the tension thickens exponentially again as he stares into the eyes of the demon he used to call his best friend.

“Of course if the universe screwed up, it’d have to put me with you,” Jeno spits, allowing all the bitter loathing in his heart to coat his voice.

“You think this is any fun for me?” Jaemin crosses his arms, any hint of a smile gone.

There’s no point arguing. If they’re going to be paired up to save your life, Jeno’s going to see Jaemin’s face way more than he wants to (which is not at all). Better to just leave now, before he does something rash that will merit punishment.

He disappears, childishly hoping the resultant flash of light will blind Jaemin.

. . . . .

It happens at first by chance. Jeno’s walking around on earth, trying to enjoy the sunshine on his face. Renjun isn’t here at the moment, a fact that he’s secretly quite relieved about. The angel has only become more overbearing since Chenle fell.

Though Jeno sympathizes with Renjun – after all, he’s the only one who knows Renjun’s entire story – he feels for Chenle too. He misses the younger angel and his dolphin laugh, even though instances of the high-pitched screeches had all but died away during the years after their original group split up. Still, seeing Chenle’s smile used to be one of the high points in his day, after Renjun almost stopped smiling completely.

So Jeno tries to enjoy the day and take some comfort in the healthy aliveness of the city around him. All around him are people who are living their lives, blissfully ignorant of the turbulent worlds beyond their comprehension.

In a small part of his heart, Jeno aches to return to that simpler time. He doesn’t regret staying in heaven. Renjun needs him and in a way, Jeno needs Renjun just as much. But sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.

He tries to shake off these heavy thoughts that contrast so darkly with the bright sunshine of the day, but something just feels… off. Like something will go wrong. Jeno attempts a smile in the hopes that faking happiness will bring the true emotion, drifting his gaze to the shops that line the streets.

Then he scowls. Any tinge of happiness he felt disappears.

Of course Jaemin would appear to ruin his day.

Mumbling apologies to those who bump into him, Jeno turns and starts walking in the opposite direction, stopping in front of a shop window full of CDs and albums. Inside, he sees Jaemin smiling at someone.

As he peers in as surreptitiously as he can, he realizes that that someone is you.

If there was anything in his hands, Jeno would have crushed it with how hard he’s clenching his fists right now. What is Jaemin doing? Exception or no, he shouldn’t be seeing you unless he’s attempting to protect you. And as far as Jeno can see, there’s nothing life-threatening in your way at the moment.

Through the window, he watches Jaemin say something. You laugh in response. Jeno’s teeth clench with his fists, inordinately annoyed at the scene in front of him.

It’s just because Jaemin isn’t following the damn rules, he tells himself bitterly. Stupid demons and their blatant disregard for the established rules surrounding interaction with humans. Look at Haechan. Then Mark. And now Jaemin too?

Feelings are such a messy topic, Jeno thinks in disgust. He should go. This isn’t any of his business. Let Jaemin be punished for whatever he’s doing – Jeno may resent Lucifer, but he does mete punishment fairly.

But he stays. Something roots him in place in front of the shop window, watching your interaction with Jaemin. And the longer he stays, the more his chest tightens.

It’s just annoyance, he tells himself as he finally walks away. Nothing more, nothing less. He has no feelings for you. It’s just annoyance and anger at Jaemin.

Still, the voice in the back of his mind tells him otherwise.

Shut up, he tells the voice.

His mind responds with an image of your laughing eyes and smiling face.

. . . . .

So what if Jeno returns to earth more and more often these days? Renjun might question it, but Jeno just tells him he needs to get out of heaven. The ever-present brilliant, white purity gets stifling.

The excuse, for the most part, is true. Especially after recent events, Jeno finds himself feeling a little trapped within heaven’s bright clouds. But that still doesn’t explain why Jeno consistently returns to the same place every time he descends.

There’s a little café next door to your music shop. Over a couple of weeks, he learns that the shop belongs to your brother, and you merely help there part-time. In front of the café, there are a few small tables and Jeno often sits there, absently sipping at a cup of coffee.

It feels a little stalker-ish. He doesn’t talk to you like Jaemin does, but he tries not to watch you too obviously either. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing there. All he knows is that seeing your smile and hearing your voice, even if they aren’t directed at him, make him feel a little happier every day.

But his blood boils whenever he watches Jaemin enter the shop with a cup of coffee, exiting with your hand in his and sweet words on his lips.

What is Jaemin doing? Jeno wonders. Is he hoping to form a relationship with you? Surely even he wouldn’t be that stupid? That would just hurt you in the end.

This is why Jeno avoids feelings, tries to keep everything professional. Because if he doesn’t, he could just end up in the same sticky situation he is sure Jaemin will end up in. He’s not blind. He sees Jaemin’s small winces when you hit his arm a little too hard, sees the bright red markings on his skin where his shirt dips a little too low in the back. Lucifer is punishing him, definitely.

He doesn’t feel any satisfaction, though. Maybe Jaemin is getting what he deserves, but he just keeps coming back like a fool. If anything, he feels anger. Frustration. When will Jaemin learn that actions have consequences? His actions will only end up hurting himself. And more importantly, they will only end up hurting you.

So he corners Jaemin one day. He ignores Jaemin’s yelp of surprise when he grabs his shoulder, ignores the small wince of pain and look of loathing Jaemin flashes his way. Schooling his features into a cold glare, he snaps, “Leave her alone.”

Jaemin’s features set into ice. “And why should I?”

“You’re corrupting her,” Jeno snaps. “And you’re not supposed to be with her, exception or no.”

He can tell he’s hit a nerve and that just infuriates him even more. Jaemin knows what the consequences of his actions could be – he just doesn’t care.

“Too bad I’ve never quite been one for rules, though, Jael.” Jaemin’s lighthearted tone is forced and he refuses to look into Jeno’s eyes. It’s all Jeno can do to not smack the younger demon in the face and force him to make eye contact. “And corrupting? I think that’s a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Clearly not if I just used it,” Jeno spits. “I choose my words carefully, unlike you.”

A beat of silence. Then – “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeno lets out a carefully measured sigh, biting back his instinct to just punch Jaemin in his stupid face. Ignoring all of the passerby’s looks, he grabs Jaemin harshly and forces the demon to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jeno hisses. “Telling her sweet words, making promises you can’t keep, revealing everything? She’s a human, she’s your assignment, for heaven’s sake. All you’re doing is hurting her!”

His outburst leaves him breathless. He has so much more to say and he almost spits it all out, but he forces himself to shut up.

Jaemin fights to maintain a neutral expression. “If I didn’t know better,” he responds coolly, “I’d think you cared for her.” He raises an eyebrow. “But we both know that isn’t true, right?”

Jeno wants to slap the smirk off of Jaemin’s lips, even as the demon turns to walk away.

“I may not be able to stop you,” Jeno warns, “but your kind most certainly can.”

He sees Jaemin’s jaw clench, but he doesn’t look back.

Jeno remains there for some time, gazing into the shop window and watching you help customers with that bright smile on your face. Something in his heart aches a little.

It doesn’t matter. Jeno turns around, looking for a quiet place where he can disappear without notice.

You don’t deserve for Jaemin to break your heart. You don’t deserve the pain he or Jaemin will bring.

As he disappears into light, Jeno promises himself that he will help you live as long as you can.

No matter what.

. . . . .

Several months after your first meeting, Jeno finally musters up the courage to visit you under the pretense of making sure you’re okay. Your most recent brush with death, an encounter with an armed man in a dark alley at night, left you very shaken and truly, Jeno feels bad enough for you that he’s willing to break the rules of heaven and hell to make sure you’re alright.

“Jeno!” you exclaim as he walks through the doors. For a moment, Jeno contemplates running away. The full force of your bright countenance is almost too much for him to handle.

He steels himself. He came to see you and ensure that you’re alright. He broke rules to come here. So instead of bolting, Jeno gives you a small smile. “Hello, Y/N.”

A short bout of silence hangs in the air as the two of you simply look at each other. Jeno starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Who knows what Jaemin’s told you about him, or even about angels in general? What if you already hate him?

The thought of that hurts a little more than he thought it would.

But your smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it becomes gentler as Jeno’s discomfort grows.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jeno finally blurts out. “You looked a little shaken up last time. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Pain flashes across your eyes for a moment, and then it clears. “It’s alright.” You look down for second, then grin brightly at him. “Besides, I have you and Jaemin to protect me, don’t I?”

Well, yes, you do. Until some predetermined point.

A point that Jeno is more than willing to push back for you.

“Yes,” is all he replies. “Did…” He trails off. He wants badly to ask if Jaemin has already come by to comfort you, but that’s a dumb question. Of course he has. He wouldn’t have waited several days, unlike Jeno.

“Hm?” You look at him questioningly.

“Never mind.” Jeno shakes his head. “I just came to make sure you were all right, and you seem to be fine.” He does his best to smile, turning to leave.

“Would you mind staying a little longer?”

He freezes in place. Why would you ask that?

“I just…” Jeno turns back around to see you playing with your fingers. “I’m very curious about this whole angels and demons thing. Jaemin’s told me some of it, but I’ve only ever gotten his point of view. I want to know what you think, as an angel.”

If he stays, he will be a hypocrite. He will be doing just what he berated Jaemin for doing – for breaking the rules, speaking to you, telling you about his world.

But at least he isn’t whispering sweet nothings in your ear. At least he isn’t giving anything but rote information, not giving into the fluttering feelings in his chest. He might even be helping you by giving you another point of view to see things from.

“Sure.”

This time, the smile on his face is real.

. . . . .

Jeno hands you your cup of coffee across the table. With the sun so bright, the two of you are sitting across from each other in a darker corner of the café. The air conditioning is blissfully cool against Jeno’s skin.

“So what do you want to know?” Jeno asks to start the conversation.

“Tell me about fate.” Your face turns serious. “I know what demons believe – or at least I know what Jaemin believes.” You gaze at him intently. “I want to know what you believe.”

Jeno swallows, wondering how best to express himself. Several seconds pass, then he opens his mouth to speak.

“Fate exists. It is real,” he begins carefully. “But as an angel, I believe fate can be changed. Who says that the universe has to set the future in absolute stone? No one knows.”

Your gaze, steady in his, gives him the courage to continue. “I don’t believe in unnecessary tampering with fate. But I don’t think it’s quite fair that some die so early, when they have their entire lives ahead of themselves, while others who are far less deserving are allowed to enjoy life for so much longer.” He takes a sip from his cup. “Demons will tell you that it is not our duty to meddle with fate, that the universe has a balance we cannot upset. However, if someone deserves to live longer, I can’t stand idly by. I will do my best to help them enjoy the gift of life for longer.”

You nod slowly. “I see.”

“That’s my view.” Jeno attempts to smile. “I think I’m correct. I think the demons are very wrong, so I can’t get along with them. But…” He swallows. It’s hard to get the next words out, but he manages. “People are not all the same. In fact, not all of us angels agree on things completely. Some angels I know don’t believe in fate at all. So if someone else has another view, they are not necessarily wrong. Merely… different. Different from me.”

If Renjun could hear him now, he’d probably give Jeno the cold shoulder for a week. But Renjun isn’t here, and for once, Jeno is free to express the thoughts he’s kept buried in his mind since the first day someone shook up his thoughts.

“Why did you want to ask me about this, anyway?” Jeno looks at you curiously. “I would’ve thought Jaemin would tell you all you wanted to know.” He’s not sure if he’s successful at keeping all the bitterness out of his tone.

You purse your lips. “I like to hear all sides of a story,” you finally reply. “In order to form an opinion, one must always hear all views, no? Your beliefs are as important as Jaemin’s, and even though Jaemin might do well in summarizing the way you think, you do much better explaining because you know yourself.”

He feels oddly touched at that, touched that you trust him enough to listen to his opinion. His heart beats a little faster.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.” Jeno smiles softly.

“I’m glad I have someone else to speak to,” you reply.

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow at that. “I thought Jaemin might give you plenty to talk about.”

A pensive look stretches across your face. “Jaemin is lovely.” You smile, though it’s a bit more reserved than before. “But like I said, he only expresses one set of beliefs.” Your smile turns sadder. “And to form an opinion on this… matter… is very important to me.”

Worry furrows Jeno’s eyebrows even further as he carefully takes in your appearance. He didn’t quite notice it before, but your eye bags are a little darker, your face paler. Is he just imagining it? Or are you really sick?

And if you are sick, is it life-threatening?

A stone drops in Jeno’s stomach. Jeno can attempt to prolong lives through many means – carrying someone out of a fire, blocking a knife, pulling them back from tipping over a bridge. But terminal illness?

That isn’t something he can easily help.

You place your hand over Jeno’s, jerking him out of his thoughts. “I’m fine,” you murmur, answering his unspoken question. You smile gently as though to prove it, though Jeno still isn’t fully convinced. “Thank you for talking with me.” Your smile grows wider. “I know you’re a little more of a rule-follower than Jaemin is, but if you ever want to come over to visit or anything, the shop is always open to you.”

Jeno blushes a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

. . . . .

He doesn’t expect to be cornered later that week but Jaemin exists to surprise him. Jeno is lying down in a small, secluded park, staring at the sky when Jaemin yells. “Jael!”

Jeno already knows this can’t be good when he stands, turning around, to see Jaemin’s snarl.

“What do you want?” Jeno snaps. Trust a demon to ruin his day, he thinks.

Jaemin’s eyes flash with fire and pain. “So you told me to stay away from Y/N,” he hisses, “but then you go and tell her a bunch of crap about me, right?” He heaves a breath. “Hypocrite, much?”

A bunch of crap? Jeno thinks that’s a little unfair. Though he did express his own perspective as an angel, nowhere did he outright bash Jaemin for his beliefs. Staring into the demon’s eyes, though, Jeno thinks maybe you didn’t get to tell that part. Because clearly the two of you talked.

Jaemin’s always been a hot-blooded one.

“What is wrong with you?!” The wind starts picking up on Jaemin’s anger, swirling leaves about their feet. He doesn’t even seem to notice. “What is your problem? I get that you hate me and I do too but for fuck’s sake, I would never purposely try to ruin your happiness!”

His happiness. You are Jaemin’s happiness. His joy. His love.

Something sinks in Jeno’s chest.

“So you admit it, then?” Jeno finally asks, his quiet voice a sharp contrast to Jaemin’s barbed tones. “You admit that she’s your happiness?”

The wind grows stronger, but Jeno holds his ground, staring into Jaemin’s conflicted eyes. He wonders briefly why he doesn’t loudly proclaim his love for you.

Then he knows.

Despite Jaemin’s hot blood and quick temper, he’s also very sensitive to emotion. At this point, there’s no way he hasn’t picked up on Jeno’s feelings for you.

And even though there are years of hatred between the two, Jeno knows that Jaemin wouldn’t be able to stomach gloating in front of him, not with so many emotions involved.

There’s no resentment left in Jeno. After years of people leaving him, after years of reflection, Jeno can’t bring himself to hate someone for feeling love. His hatred led to Haechan’s departure with Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. Years of hurt suddenly manifest in Jeno’s chest and the pressure makes him want to collapse, but he forces himself to remain standing.

No, he won’t condemn feelings. He’ll just make sure those feelings are healthy. That you’ll be good for each other.

And right now, Jeno isn’t so sure Jaemin is performing to his expectations.

He studiously avoids Jaemin’s gaze as he disappears into a flash of light.

. . . . .

It takes weeks for the urge to build up again, enough so that Jeno takes action. He’s very good at suppressing his own feelings, and usually they don’t bother him again once he’s ignored them for long enough. But the urge to visit you only grows stronger, bit by bit, until it’s so strong that Jeno can’t ignore it any longer. Against his better judgement, he touches down in front of your shop and enters the door.

He can’t see you, though he thinks he hears your voice in the back room. Awkwardly, he stands by a rack of CDs and waits. The wait gives him some time to think.

Jeno likes you. That much is obvious, even to himself, and he can’t deny it any longer. What else could explain the urge to break the rules and visit you? What else could explain the stuttering of his heart and the burst of happiness in his chest whenever he sees you smile?

So maybe Jeno has less-than-neutral feelings for you, something he never thought would happen. A little burst of annoyed shame colors his cheeks slightly. He used to berate Jaemin for going against the rules and falling for a human, and now he’s done the same.

In his defense, though, he isn’t acting on the feelings. The most he’s doing is making sure you’re okay. No teasing words, no flirtatious smiles. No empty promises.

But none of that matters, does it? It isn’t like being a gentleman will win you over. It’s already very clear that Jaemin has your heart, and even though Jeno would dearly like to compete, loyalty to heaven and concern for you prevent him from doing so. He won’t make himself happy at the cost of his wings and your smile.

Lost in thought, Jeno nearly misses you coming out of the back room. He only notices when you call out his name, eagerly heading toward him. He gives you a small smile and a wave before his eyes widen in shock.

If you were pale last time, your skin has now taken on a bit of a sickly tinge. The bags under your eyes are gone, but Jeno can see the foundation cracking slightly where they would be. The sparkle in your eyes is still there, but barely present, and your smile seems a little forced.

Quickly, he looks down at his wrist at your star. Only then does he realize how pale it’s become.

His heart drops.

“Are you alright?” Jeno asks, almost reaching out a hand to touch your face. He quickly stops himself.

He knows it’s bad when you don’t even deny it. “I don’t think so.” Your lips sag into a half-smile. “Haven’t gotten any diagnosis yet, but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

“Sit down,” Jeno instructs, heading over to a small bench beside a shelf of albums. Quietly, you sit. Jeno takes his place beside you.

“You knew,” he starts. “You knew the last time we talked.”

You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t know at the time. I suspected it though.” You bring a hand to your heart. “Sometimes you just… feel things. You know?”

Jeno does know. He nods. “Have you told Jaemin yet?”

The question burns on his teeth and tongue as the words leave his mouth, but he needs to know if Jaemin is still following his heart. What if that weakens you further? Emotional tolls can lead to physical degradation, and Jeno doesn’t want any of that to happen to you, even if Jaemin might make you happy.

You shake your head. “No. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

The answer surprises him. He knows the two of you spoke at least once after you met with him, and that the conversation might have led to a quasi-fight. But the fact that you haven’t told Jaemin of your condition and the fact that he hasn’t come by in weeks speaks volumes.

Did his words have that much of an effect on the two of you? The thought should make Jeno feel some mean happiness, but he only feels slightly sick.

“He knows we met.” You turn your clear eyes to Jeno again. “I told him a little bit of what you said. It’s partly my fault – I was a little upset at him so he left. He just… didn’t come back.”

“That’s… that’s not right,” Jeno whispers. He shakes his head. “I met with him after you talked, I guess.” He grimaces a little at the memory. “He wasn’t very… happy?”

You snort without mirth. “I didn’t tell him because at the time, I wasn’t sure of anything. But I think he does suspect something’s up.”

Jeno sighs. “I’m sorry if my words made things difficult between you two.”

“Don’t be.” You touch his arm softly. “You told the truth, which was what I needed most. I needed your words. I just… I guess Jaemin assumed you’d talked shit or something, and I didn’t get the chance to tell him you didn’t.” You look down again. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Jeno smiles down at you, then notes the time. “I should probably go now, but please get some rest. Even if nothing’s official yet, I don’t want you – I mean, you shouldn’t get hurt.”

You thank Jeno with the gentlest look in your eyes. The look stays in his mind as he leaves the shop, giving him the determination to do what he must. Even if he hates it.

. . . . .

He scours the world to find Jaemin and finally finds the demon taking a walk along a quiet beach. Clenching his fists and jaw, Jeno touches down in front of him, making Jaemin yelp in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin finally asks after a long period of silence.

Anger boils in Jeno’s chest. “Y/N told me you haven’t been to see her in weeks.”

More silence.

“So you’re still visiting her?” Jaemin asks, looking something between furious and resigned.

“That’s what you’re fixated on?” Jeno yells. “She’s sick and needs you by her side and that’s what you’re fixated on?”

Jaemin’s eyes widen. “She’s sick?” he whispers.

“You dense piece of shit.” Jeno kicks up sand out of frustration. “She’s waiting for you! She needs you!”

“I thought she hated me,” Jaemin murmurs, more to himself than to Jaemin.

If you could see the look in her eyes when she spoke of you, you would know she definitely doesn’t hate you, Jaemin.

“Cut the bullshit.” Jeno roughly shakes Jaemin’s shoulders. “Go back to Y/N. Comfort her. Do your best to keep her happy. You hear me?” He shakes him again. “Do you?”

Jaemin pulls away. “So you don’t make her happy?”

Jeno swallows. “Not the way you do.”

The tension in the air thickens.

“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles.

Hearing Jaemin apologize does something to Jeno’s heart. It doesn’t flip-flop, but it stutters bit little. It feels a little warm. He looks at Jaemin with less venom in his expression.

“Don’t be,” he replies brusquely, even though he still hurts. “I care about her. Not about you.” He stares right into Jaemin’s eyes. “Go back to her, or I’ll hunt you down.”

Jaemin nods, then disappears into his shadow. Jeno stays for a little while longer, mulling over his own thoughts. In the end, one goal emerges.

Jaemin may make you happy. But Jaemin is a demon. He believes in predestined fate, in letting the universe work out the way it wants.

Jeno is an angel. He believes you deserve a longer life.

So even though Jaemin may be your happiness, Jeno will do all he can to keep you alive as long as possible.

Just so you can feel happy longer.

. . . . .

Jeno visits you a little more often, but always avoids Jaemin to the best of his ability. He manipulates the doctors at the hospital you end up at, pays for some of your bills, gets you moved into one of the nicest wards at the facility. He may not know anything about medicine, but he can pay your bills and get you the best treatment.

But it irks him that Jaemin does nothing. He brings you snacks and books, but where is his dedication to keeping you alive? Jeno understands that Jaemin is a demon, but surely your love won’t prevent him from wanting you to live?

“Jaoel,” he calls out on one particularly bad day. His bad mood is half the reason why he won’t call Jaemin by his human name. Jaemin’s walking out of the hospital when he hears Jeno. No one else is around.

“Who’s the one that didn’t want me calling them by their God-given name?” Jaemin mocks.

Jeno bites down on his lip and prays to the heavens for patience. Anger and impatience and sorrow and terror roil in his mind, condensing into one single thought.

“Are you really going to let her die?”

The wind starts to pick up, but this time, it isn’t because of Jaemin. It’s because of Jeno. Flecks of dirt and small pebbles start to rise around their feet but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Because the hopelessness at possibly losing you is far more important to him now than anything else in the world.

“Don’t you dare,” Jaemin whispers.

“Don’t I dare what, Jaoel?” Jeno steps forward. “Tell me. Don’t. I. Dare. What?”

Silence, save for the whistling of the wind.

“You’re not the only one who loves her, you know,” Jeno hisses.

“And you’re not the person who knows best for her!” Jaemin yells.

“And are you, Jaemin? ARE YOU?!”

Because at least Jeno’s trying. He can’t see any of that effort from Jaemin.

“No,” Jaemin snaps, “but I know that she doesn’t deserve to suffer even more than she already has.” Pain clouds his eyes. “Would you really want her to suffer like this?” he murmurs, turning away.

That last action, Jaemin turning away, sets Jeno off. “Do you really love her if you would let her go so easily?” Jeno finally spits, giving voice to the thoughts ricocheting through his mind at the speed of light. “Is that really love, Jaoel, is that all she’s worth to you?”

Jaemin spins around. “Don’t you dare insinuate that I want her to die!”

“If you truly loved her, you’d want her to live as long as possible!” Jeno yells.

“And this is what I hate about you angels!” Jaemin screams. “You always think everything can be perfect, but it can’t. Nothing can be perfect! No one, just because they are who they are, can live longer or shorter than they are supposed to! You can’t decide that!”

“And look at you.” Jeno’s chest is heaving with all the pain he feels in his heart. “All high and mighty because you think you’re doing the right thing. But should some lives not be preserved for as long as possible?” Tears threaten to slip out of Jeno’s eyes but he holds them back with herculean effort. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe she deserves it. No, not even her – you can’t tell me you’ve never met a single person who deserved to live longer than they did!”

The ache in Jeno’s heart feels stronger, heavier than ever. If he was ever in doubt of it, he is sure now.

He, Lee Jeno, Jaoel, angel of God, is in love with you. And it hurts to know that you will never love him back. That your affectionate eyes will never gaze upon him with anything more than friendship, that your gentle touches will never mean anything more than small comfort.

If anyone deserves to live longer, Jeno thinks, it is you. He can’t understand why Jaemin doesn’t see that.

“Do you think I want her to die?” Jaemin’s whisper carries like a gunshot. “Do you really think I want her to die?”

No. Jeno doesn’t. But he thinks Jaemin’s actions say otherwise.

“Life is only precious because there is death. The only thing people can do is treasure life as long as they have it.” Jaemin swallows, and for the first time, Jeno sees the glimmer of a tear in Jaemin’s eyes.

“Then shouldn’t people have it longer?” he whispers.

“If that is so, Jael, then why aren’t humans immortal?”

Jaemin’s next words strike Jeno straight in the heart.

“Part of loving someone is knowing when you must let them go.”

. . . . .

Renjun’s waiting for Jeno when he returns to heaven with an uncharacteristically blank look on his face. He says nothing when Jeno greets him, only looks at him, lost in thought.

“Renjun?” Jeno plasters a fake smile to his face, waving a hand in front of Renjun’s eyes. “You good?”

“You love someone, don’t you?”

No.

Renjun can’t have found out. It can’t be true. Terror races through Jeno’s heart and he can only think no, Renjun can’t tell anyone this because Jeno can’t lose his wings and his ability to protect.

He can’t.

“Relax.” Renjun’s hand on Jeno’s arm jerks him out of his spiraling thoughts and he fully takes in the look on Renjun’s face. “I won’t tell.”

“How…?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun shrugs. The look on his face is a little hurt, but also very understanding and even a little ashamed. “You were disappearing to earth for longer periods than usual. There’s also a very obvious look on your face. I got curious. Please don’t be angry but… I followed you the last time. I heard your argument with… him.”

Jeno should probably feel some sort of annoyance that Renjun followed him, but the lost, sad look on his friend’s face wipes any of that away. Instead, he sits Renjun down and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“Do you think I’ve been too harsh?” Renjun mumbles. He turns to Jeno. “Don’t lie to me. It’s… I mean, it’s gotten to the point where even you’ve been hiding things from me.”

A wave of shame crashes over Jeno, but he only sees understanding and sadness in Renjun’s eyes. It gives him the courage to nod a little. “Too harsh… might be putting it lightly,” Jeno says carefully.

Renjun sighs. “I’m sorry.” A tear spills out of his eye. “I’m sorry I’ve been so fixated on heaven, so fixated on… me, to give any thought to you. Or Chenle. Or anyone else.” He swallows as another tear runs down his face. “It just hurt. Hurt too much.”

Jeno knows what he’s talking about. After all, he’s the only one Renjun told his entire story to. And the knowledge of what Renjun is feeling only urges him to pull his friend closer, which he does.

“I won’t deny that your behavior was… really harsh and bitter.” Jeno swallows. “But I understand. You loved her. It was betrayal.”

“But I let it get to the point… the p-point where everyone left.” Renjun hiccups, trying to swallow his incoming sobs. “First her. Then Haechan and Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. What if…” He tries again. “What if…”

Jeno’s heart clenches. “Never,” he whispers. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Renjun is full on sobbing into Jeno’s shoulder now. “I’m sorry I ruined everything. I’m sorry I ruined our relationship with the others, I’m sorry I ruined your friendship with Jaemin. I’m sorry I drove Chenle away. I’m sorry he was kicked out of heaven.”

“Wait.”

Renjun lifts his head.

“You mean you weren’t the reason Chenle lost his wings?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun’s lips curl in an ashamed smile. “My actions must have been so bad that you’d think that of me,” he murmurs. “But no. Someone else saw. I don’t know who, but it wasn’t me. I was angry and betrayed, but it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that.”

Now it’s Jeno’s heart that fills with shame and against his will, tears start slipping out of his eyes too. “I’m sorry too,” he whispers, pulling Renjun close. “I’m sorry I ever thought that of you.”

The next few minutes are only filled with sniffles and hiccupped sobs.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Renjun finally whispers. “It’s my fault Mark and the others left without saying anything to us.”

Jeno thinks for a moment. “No,” he answers. “I think… I think this was a long time coming. We had different beliefs that we pretended not to see. Haechan’s trial was just the tipping point.”

They stay silent long enough to watch the lights start blinking out in the city beneath them.

“Tell me about her,” Renjun suddenly says.

Jeno looks at him, surprised.

“Tell me about the girl you love.” Renjun smiles, and for the first time in over a decade, it looks truly genuine. “I want to know the girl who melted Jeno’s stone-cold heart.”

“Hey!” Jeno whines, pushing Renjun away slightly. “I don’t have a stone-cold heart!”

Renjun only raises an eyebrow and leans back into Jeno’s shoulder. “Tell me about her.” His voice becomes quiet. “I want to hear about your love.”

Something happy and sad fills Jeno’s body with warmth. “All right,” he murmurs.

And that night, as they watch the stars, Jeno tells his true friend of the girl with the gentleness of the stars in her eyes.

. . . . .

Jeno steps into your room quietly, closing the door gently behind him. “Hi,” he greets.

“Hi.” You smile at him from the hospital bed.

He smiles, sitting down at the chair beside your bed. “Just making sure you’re all right.” He places a bag of cookies on a small table nearby. “And…” He swallows. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

“Of course.” You touch his arm, and in that press of your skin against his, he feels the warmth of friendship. And though he knows it’ll never be a touch of love, he finds that he’ll be okay with that. The realization gives him the courage to keep speaking.

You listen intently as Jeno admits his feelings for you. Not once do you turn away or let your gaze waver and Jeno only feels his heart expand with affection. This is the reason he fell for you, he thinks. Your quiet strength and strong conviction.

“I know you love Jaemin, and it’s clear to see that Jaemin loves you too.” The smile he wears still carries bitterness, but far less than it used to. It’s a start. “I just wanted to give you closure about me. I won’t compete. I just… I don’t think I could let you go without telling you how I feel.”

He only just finishes the sentence when the door opens.

Speak of the devil.

Jaemin stands in the doorway.

“Hi,” you greet, a smile on your face. Jeno sees the love in your eyes and when he looks over at Jaemin, he finds it mirrored in his.

You belong together.

“Hi,” Jaemin greets, shooting a cautious glance at Jeno. “Why’s he here?”

“We were discussing things,” Jeno replies, a little miffed at Jaemin for interrupting. “Can you leave us for a bit?”

Jeno watches the two of you exchange a look, then Jaemin nods and closes the door behind him.

“Back to where we left off,” you joke, but then your expression turns serious. “Thank you, Jeno.” Your smile is genuine. “Telling the truth… that really means a lot to me.”

“I hope things won’t be weird between us now?” Jeno finds the courage to ask. “I’d like to still be… friends? I guess?”

Your laugh fills the room with cheer. “Always, Jeno.” You squeeze his hand quickly. “Friends. Always.”

There are no regrets left in Jeno’s heart when he stands up to leave. A small smile has made its way onto his face by the time he opens the door, but the sight beyond in front of him quickly erases it. “Sorry,” he mumbles to Jaemin, whom he nearly knocked over with the door. He quickly begins to walk away.

“Hey!” Jaemin yells down the hall. “What were you talking about in there?”

Jeno turns. “I was giving her some closure. About me.”

Jaemin’s shoulders tense.

“Don’t worry.” The laugh he lets out has no joy behind it. “She still loves you.”

The two of them stare at each other for a long time, a thousand words hanging unsaid in the air between them. Jeno’s just about to leave when Jaemin utters two words.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. So many emotions ripple in Jaemin’s eyes and it would take Jeno years to decipher them all, but he can pick out the remorse. Remorse for leaving. For the betrayal. For loving you. For everything.

The tightness in his chest loosens as the tension leak out of his expression. “Don’t be.”

Jaemin’s gaze remains steady. “But I am.”

For several seconds that feel like hours, the two boys stare at each other. Then Jeno nods a little, turning away.

He accepts it. He accepts the apology. Maybe one day, he’ll find the courage to apologize to Jaemin too.

. . . . .

Jeno is there when you die. He knows the drill. Your star glows, he touches it, and then he finds himself in the corner of your room, invisible. Jaemin might be able to sense his presence, but if he does, he doesn’t show it.

Understandable. With everything going on, Jeno is only able to focus on you. He can’t imagine how Jaemin must feel.

Well, actually, he can. But no matter. Jaemin should be the one at your side. Not him.

So Jeno watches from the corner, watches Jaemin hold your hand, watches him kiss you one last time, watches your eyes flutter open and your mouth whisper something to the demon you love. He watches your eyes shut, watches your hand go slack in Jaemin’s, watches the heart monitor go flat.

He leaves immediately after, unable to stomach the tears of your relatives and unable to hide his own. Renjun holds him that night as Jeno hiccups sobs under the stars. You will appear in heaven soon, he knows, but the pale purity of God’s realm is a far cry from the comforting reality of the city streets. He would give anything to give you the gift of life for just a little longer.

. . . . .

He finds you three days later. You’re being shown around by an older angel, looking healthy and whole and Jeno thinks his heart bursts when he sees you.

You look uncomfortable, though. Jeno can see it in your eyes, in the way you shift your weight from foot to foot as the angel explains things to you. He can see it in the blatant look of relief on your face when you see him, when the older angel finally lets you go with a practiced smile.

“You’re here,” is the first thing you say against Jeno’s chest when you crash into him in a massive hug. “Thank the stars.”

Jeno can barely find it in himself to say anything, so he only pats your head a little awkwardly. When you pull away, neither of you are dry-eyed.

“You want to find Jaemin, don’t you?” Jeno asks when the two of you are calmer.

You bite your lip as you nod. “I don’t know where to start, though,” you confess.

Staring into your eyes, Jeno falls in love again with your determination and perseverance. And in that moment, he makes a choice.

“I’ll help you.” He smiles a little. “Don’t worry.”

. . . . .

He sees Jaemin later that night, leaving a convenience store with Jisung. Head buried in a hoodie, Jeno doesn’t look up until right before he passes them. In that moment, he shares a glance with Jaemin.

I’m sorry, Jeno tries to say through his eyes. I’m sorry for your loss.

Jaemin’s look is one of apology as well.

Quickly, Jeno turns away. The two demons pass and melt into the shadows of a storefront. Jeno stares at the space where they disappeared for some time.

You’ll see her soon, Jaemin. He swallows. I promise.

. . . . .

“Here,” Jeno whispers, his eyes darting from side to side. He knows Renjun promised to cover for them, but he can’t help but be cautious. It took a lot of sneaking around to find this place and he really doesn’t want all of his hard work to be for nothing. “This is where the divide between earth and hell weakens. Just go down these stairs and wait. Someone will sense your presence and take you to Lucifer.”

Your eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Thank you, Jeno,” you barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand once. “When you get there, Lucifer may interrogate you.” His jaw tightens. “If he decides to allow you in, they will rip off your wings. I would tell you to be brave, but…” His eyes soften as he looks at you. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”

Unexpectedly, you seize Jeno into a tight embrace. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you whisper into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

Jeno starts a little.

Thank you for doing this for me.

In that moment, he realizes. It wasn’t just for you.

It was for love, yes. But friendship is also a type of love, is it not?

It was also for Jaemin.

“You’re welcome,” is all he can say in the face of this realization. Jeno bites his lip hard to keep the tears from falling. “Make sure Jaemin treats you right. If he doesn’t, you’re welcome to let me know.” A teasing half-smile appears on his trembling lips.

You laugh, and Jeno tries to memorize the sound. He hopes to hear your laugh many more times in the future, but just in case that doesn’t happen, he wants to keep a memory of it. A memory of you.

“Go, now.” Jeno gives you a gentle push. “Be brave.”

So what if his heart breaks a little as you descend the stairs?

. . . . .

Jeno sits with Renjun on a small field in the country, gazing at the night sky. The stars twinkle cheerfully against the blackness of night. The sight is comforting and soothes Jeno’s cracked heart.

“It hurt, didn’t it?” Renjun murmurs.

He nods. “Yes.” Because it did – it hurt a lot. But at the same time…

“But not as much as I expected.”

They sit in silence for a while. “How so?” Renjun finally asks.

That makes Jeno think for a bit. Why doesn’t he feel all the pain that he expected?

“Maybe…” Jeno starts slowly, “maybe it’s because I know we might meet again in the sky.”

Renjun hums a little, staring at the blanket of night.

“And I think…” Jeno places a hand over Renjun’s. “When you love someone, their happiness takes precedence over yours. If they’re happy, you will be too.”

“Yeah.” Renjun sighs. “But at the same time… everyone, not just her… they just left. I loved them all. Why did their leaving feel so difficult?”

“We were all close,” Jeno replies. “So close. It would’ve hurt anybody. You truly loved her and your story in general is just so built around giving people the life and love they deserve, so I guess everyone else’s departure just… hit you the hardest.”

“When did you become so wise?” Renjun looks over at him, a hint of a smile on his face.

Jeno smiles. “Well, a lot of things have made me think over the past year.”

They sit in silence for a while longer.

“Do you think anything I did could’ve made them stay?” Renjun whispers, so softly that Jeno almost doesn’t hear. “Anything?”

“I don’t think so. Not in the long run.”

Wind whistles in the ensuing quiet.

“How did you let her go so easily?”

A half smile of sadness spreads across Jeno’s lips. “Someone once told me that part of loving someone is knowing when to let them go.”

Renjun nods. They stare at the winking stars.

So far as Jeno knows, no one controls the stars. Not God, not Lucifer. No, the stars are controlled by a force far older, far more powerful than any Jeno has ever known.

For in the night sky, there are no angels, there are no demons. There are only stars, beings who have been rewarded for their faithful service, no matter their side. For who knows which side is good or bad? What controls each side are beliefs, and only the universe will ever know which belief is right. No one else will.

They say that in the sky, the stars twinkle side by side in peace, with no divisions to split them. An angel’s star may be next to a demon’s, yet they coexist in tranquility, lighting the shadows of night no matter what.

Jeno smiles a little sadly, staring up at the dark sky studded with lights.

Maybe one day he will have a star, a star that will glow bright in a constellation with his friends. Maybe in the night sky they will smile and laugh the way they did so long ago when they had not a care in the world, when they were on the same side. Maybe your star will be there too – Jeno has no doubt that you will be rewarded for your service.

The constellations wink at him, as though promising that his wish will come true. And why not? He already has one friend by his side. As if to affirm this, Renjun squeezes his hand softly.

Jeno’s smile grows a little wider. Maybe one day he will have a star.

And maybe his star will be next to yours.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct jeno #jeno #kpop #fluff #angst #triggers #death #cancer #angel/demon au #nct dream scenarios #nct jeno scenarios #leave an angel #scriptura-delirus

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

The Greenland Incident

The post I typed up got deleted on Reddit (!!!) So I’m reposting here. :)

It’s a bit long but has the story written from professor Schneider’s POV. Enjoy!

This is taken from Dragon Raja III: Part I Chapter: Shadows of Greenland.

Schneider took off the oxygen mask and moved his face into the light. Even as he smoked cigarettes, he was on oxygen. When removing the oxygen mask, he will carefully hide his face in the shadow so this is the first time Manstein saw Ned's (Schneider's) face. It's a horror movie mask. The face is a nightmare, the flesh and blood under the eyes are completely dry, only a layer of dry skin is stuck to the bone, the lips and nose are atrophied, and the front teeth are directly exposed.

"It's ugly isn't it? Actually, I am only 37 years old this year but I have the half century old face of a mummy. When the students hear my cough, they think I am an old man in my 50s. But I am even younger than you." Schneider said, self-deprecating.

Manstein shivered slowly: "How can this be?"

"This is the mark left by a mission," Schneider said. "That was 11 years ago, when we first heard a heartbeat signal from the deep sea."

"This (The Japan sea mission) is not the first time we have found embryos in the sea?" Manstein was taken aback.

"No, No. Eleven years ago, that was in Greenland. We found a similar embryo." Schneider spit out a complete smoke ring. "You might have guessed it. I was talking about the unresolved case in the Greenland Ice Sea. The dive team was annihilated, but the school board ordered all files to be sealed and the investigation was forcibly terminated. If you want to hear this story, you have to be patient, because this story is very long, and please order Norma (EVAs human personality) to leave this room. You with a black card now, you can do it."

"Why should Norma leave?"

"Because Norma doesn't know. The so-called top secret cannot be stored in the system or the drives. It can only be stored here." Schneider tapped on his forehead. "After listening to this story, you can't say a word. You can't even write a memo for yourself. This is a rigid rule of the college. You can only remember every detail I said firmly as far as you can. If you forget it, there's no remedy."

"What happened 11 years ago, can you still remember every detail of it now?"

"Of course, I can." Schneider said quietly. "That was the only trip to hell in my life. How could I forget?"

The icy cold permeated from Schneider's words. Manstein felt that when he mentioned something that happened 11 years ago, the ugly and powerful man in front of him ignited his anger, an anger restrained for 11 years.

"Norma, leave this room and leave the two of us alone for a while." Manstein said.

"Understand that, starting now, the central control room will be outside of my monitoring range for 15 minutes." Norma said.

All the equipment n the central control room stopped running, the cameras and recording equipment were locked, and the lights went out one by one. Norma left and the surveillance was lifted. At this moment, the central control room was independent of the campus, and the shadows of the trees swayed on the high windows, which looked like the depths of an ancient church.

"It was the autumn of 2001...." Schneider slowly began to narrate.

"It was the autumn of 2001. A person with the ID named 'Prince' posted a message on the Internet saying that his tugboat had caught strange bronze fragments deep in the Greenland Sea. He posted a photo and it seemed that there were some intricate ancient characters on them. These characters were completely consistent with the 'Ice Sea Bronze Column Tablet' secretly collected by the college."

"The Ice sea Bronze Pillar Tablet is considered to be a rare artifact that has been passed down from the Dragon Age to today. It once stood in the dragon-kin built cities. The dragons are accustomed to using pillars to record their history and the center of the city is always a huge pillar standing upright. However, the icy sea copper column tablet is only a part of a column that had broken and it is estimated that it is less than a third of its original length. It is the most detailed dragon text material that humans have found to today, recording the war history of the dragon clan, but we still can't interpret it because there is no text for comparison. Those texts are just meaningless patterns for us."

"I was just a young assistant professor at the time, keen to interpret Dragon Words. I think if there is another copper pillar in the depths of the Greenland Sea, then the comparison of the above text may be able to interpret the true history of dragons. So I contacted the 'Prince' anonymously, saying that we were an ancient writing research institute and hoped to purchase these fragments."

"At that time, someone offered an amazing price, but the Prince expressed that he was willing to donate the fragments to research institutions instead of selling them to merchants. He sent the fragments to us without taking any money, and attached the coordinates of where he found them. We immediately sent an elite team to scan the seabed with sonar. We originally hoped to find a huge pillar on the seabed, but we caught a strange heartbeat signal right on the seabed."

"The Greenland Ice Sea is not as deep as the Japanese Trench. Large animals like beluga and tiger sharks live in it. So we didn't think it was a dragon embryo at first. But we observed it for several months. Nothing moved. We had to focus our attention from the pillar to the heartbeat signal. This was too strange. If the thing is a whale or a shark, then it should hunt around. If it is a giant turtle of unknown species, but dormant, then its heartbeat shouldn't be so strong.

Someone put forward an amazing idea, that is: it is the embryo of a dragon. The seabed is its burial ground, it has experienced death, and cocooning and then reviving turned it into a fetal state. It is undergoing a long incubation.

"The idea was too bold, but the heartbeat signal was too strange and too tempting. Everyone of us was fascinated by this speculation. Since the establishment of the Secret Party, we have only received one dragon embryo, which is a weak one out of three generations. Dragon blood lines are already weak. If we can get a strong embryo, analyzing it can help us learn more about this ancient life."

"So you decided to dive?" Manstein asked.

"No, we weren't so rash. Because everything is just guessing. The safest way before a human goes is to send out a remote controlled submersible to survey the area. But whenever the underwater robots approached the seabed, they would lose control. We recovered the underwater robots and found that their circuits somehow burned up. This added to the evidence that the thing on the seabed was an embryo of a dragon. When an elder dragon is said to be in the process of incubation, a certain field will be developed to protect themselves. People who step into this field will have fatal hallucinations. Biologically speaking, the hallucinations are all because the cerebral cortex is stimulated, and the cerebral cortex is most easily stimulated by an electrical current."

"So the electric field of embryos burned the robot's circuits?" Manstein said.

"We thought so. We didn't want to send people to dive. If it is indeed the embryonic field that burned down those robots, then the impact on the cerebral cortex would be terrible. Even though all my students are A pedigree, I'm still not sure if they can fight against the field of embryos. In the hallucinations created by dragons, only the most powerful hybrids can maintain self-awareness. Any gap in the psychological defense line will be crushed by the hallucination. This has been recorded in the archives of the secret party." Schneider said. "But this time the school board intervened. They ordered us to dive as soon as possible to confirm the target. Their reason was that we could not wait for the embryo to hatch. At that time, even if it was risky, we had to act."

"Diving was the decision of the school board?"

"Yes. Today they sent you to stop the Caesar Team Embryo dive, but they were the creators of the Greenland plan back then."

"Under pressure, we made a dive plan. We purchased the most advanced diving bell from Germany at the time. It was a kind of all-metal diving equipment. Metal is an excellent conductor. It can form an electrostatic barrier and should weaken the embryo field. Everyone in the dive team was to wrap their whole body with a fine metal mesh and took nerve tranquilizers orally. They are all the best hybrids. We thought they should be able to resist the interference in the embryonic field after they were fully armed. There were six people in the group. If one person had a problem the other five could force him to evacuate. In order to kill the dangerous embryo we also made a special underwater rifle for the dive team, using bullets polished by the Philosopher's Stone which is lethal to dragons."

"Although they were going to perform a dangerous mission, the students were still excited. Young people are fearless and they had the opportunity to get lose to a dragon embryo, which was as exciting as the opportunity to visit the Kingdom of God."

The weather was unexpectedly good on the day of the dive. The six members of the dive team went down on three diving bells. I provided support on the ice. At first, everything went smoothly, the ocean current was calm. The marine life was calm. They even observed beluga whales. But when the depth reached 170 meters, the leader of the dive team suddenly yelled in surprise in the communication channel, saying that they saw a gate. This is very strange because the seabed in that area is 300 meters deep, and their depth is 170 meters, which means that they are still 130 meters from the bottom. Visibility was very low. But at this point, they saw this gate. Is there a gate suspended in the middle of the sea?

"I became alert and worried that they had strayed into the embryonic field and had begun to have hallucinations. They excitedly discussed the gate in the communication channel. This is completely against the rules of communications. They should not talk about it in the communication channel. This channel is for essential communication only to avoid misunderstandings. I loudly ordered them not to approach the gate. I wasn't sure if it really existed but my instinct told me that the gate should not be opened."

"But they completely ignored my orders. I only heard their hurried muttering and strange noises. It was like someone was breathlessly reading a certain scripture in a deep well. Then the team leader spoke and yelled, "The gate is open! The gate is opening!" Then, "No! Don't Go in!"

"Then the gunshots were heard, loud. I could hear them paddling and the sound of their respirators. They had left the diving bell and were fighting with something. The situation was very chaotic. Someone shouted in the channel but because of the current interference, I couldn't hear what they said."

"I originally told the diving team not to leave the diving bell, because the electrostatic barrier in the diving bell is their important protection, but why they violated my order... there's no perfect explanation. After five minutes, the communication was cut off. We could no longer receive signals from the depths of the ice sea. I decided to forcibly recover the diving bells. Those diving bells are connected to the ice breaker with safety lines. However, we recovered the safety lines, only to find that the safety lines were cut with diving knives. The cuts, judging from the fibers, were made by the diving teams own knives. They cut the safety lines themselves."

"I was frantic and decided to dive down to rescue them. There were no more bells, but I was confident in my physical fitness. I could dive to 300 meters without protective gear. I could dive to 170 on one breath. When I reached the waters where the incident occurred, there was no gate nor were their corpses. The water was clear with no trace of blood, even though I clearly heard the gunshots in the communication channel. At that time, the surrounding water temperature had dropped below zero. It was so cold that any disturbance in the water would form ice crystals."

"I then noticed something behind me that had been silently swimming with me!" "The predator was so cautious to keep itself from being discovered by me. But the super cold seawater was formed a thin film of ice in front of me and it reflected the light on my diving helmet. I saw its dark shadow in the thin ice, just like the totem on an ancient mural. It was slender, its long and thin tail swung slowly in the sea, like a butterfly in flight. I heard a sound and my spotlight stopped working from the cold and I was surrounded in completely darkness. I thought I was going to die. The embryo had hatched. It killed my students! It was behind me but I can't do anything about it."

"Desperation brings out courage. So I remembered that I was still holding my underwater rifle. All the special ones were handed over to the dive team. I only had an ordinary one filled with ordinary bullets. But I can't sit and wait for death. So I turned and took a shot in the dark."

"I then saw blood. I had actually hurt it!"

"How can an ordinary rifle harm a dragon? That thing was only used by divers to kill sharks and can't even kill a large shark. And you were too far down for it to work effectively." Manstein said.

"I can't answer that, but there was a strong smell of blood penetrating the seals of my helmet. I wasn't injured. The dragon was." Schneider said.

"I could clearly feel it right in front of me. I and the injured dragon are facing each other in the dark, very close. But I still couldn't see it."

"It hissed at me and in an instant my oxygen mask shattered into pieces, and the cold current rushed into my air supply carrying with it, the dragon's blood. I lost consciousness."

"My companions heard my screams and brought me back up from the water with a safety cable. When the water rushed out, I was frozen in a piece of the sea ice weighing several tons. Like a fish frozen at a market."

"Fortunately, the rescue helicopter arrived in a few minutes. After I woke up, the doctor said that I had suffered from the extreme cold. I danced with the god of death and inhaled that cold air it breathed out at minus 200 degrees. It necrotized my face, the temperature of my brain dropped and my blood was frozen. My chance of survival should have been non-existent."

"The doctor tried his best and managed to save my tongue. But I must wear an oxygen mask at all time, and change the plastic trachea every two or three years, otherwise my respiratory system will fail and I will die."

"I used to love hand rolled cigarettes, but this box of shredded tobacco is what I have left over from 11 years ago and I haven't finished smoking it. I only roll one cigarette occasionally to smoke when I am reminiscing about that period. I remember the past more clearly. I assure that every detail I said is true, because I dare not forget. These memories are painfully carved into my mind."

"We were unable to successfully capture or kill that dragon. It is still alive, hidden in the deep sea of the world, looking for opportunities to surface. A few hours after the incident we used diving robots to explore again. The fish disappeared quietly in the ice sea and no trace was found. We explored the seabed but did not find embryos or copper pillars, as if everything we experienced was just a nightmare that disappeared when we woke up. A few years later, a marine minding company found a wealth of manganese in the seabed and build an offshore mining platform. Today there are thousands of marine miners working there. Nothing supernatural happened again, until not long ago, we observed exactly the same heartbeat signal deep in the Japanese Trench."

[skipping down because they talk about other things]

"Only one in 100,00 people can evolve safely after being in contact with the blood of an elder dragon. I was actually one of the lucky ones. I was able to survive the bottom of the sea because it had already begun to increase my potential. But I am not a person who is fully able to accept dragon blood. My body is riddled with holes. strengthening me while destroying me. I have endured the pain for 11 years. The most likely in the college to turn into a Death Servitor is not Chu Zihang, but me."

"I'm not afraid to dive, but my body can't bear it. Now sitting in front of you is a dying patient. Were it not for the dragon blood's corruption, I would have died already."

"Does the principal know?"

"He knows. The college has formulated a special medical plan for me. I change my blood every year, but the dragon blood can never be cleared. I'm not sure how much longer I have left." Schneider knocked on his heart. "I have an explosive device the size of a pacemaker right next to my heart. Once I lose control, it will explode. I will suddenly fall to the ground and it will not be of any trouble to you."

"Must you be so cruel to yourself?" Manstein whispered.

"People who are cruel to others must learn how to be cruel to themselves. Otherwise they are just cowards." Schneider said slowly, "many people think that I would never perform assignments after the Greenland incident. That I would shrink back into my research. Because of that incident, I lost six students and I am the way I am now. They thought that a person who survived hell should value their life all the more."

"But I chose to be the director of the executive department. I am the last member of the Greenland team. Those young people whose lives were blooming like flowers died. And I survived. If I were a stupid coward, wouldn't that be ridiculous?"

#Dragon Raja #Chu Zihang #Schneider

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mindwideopen · 4 years

Text

Ok, have they invented this neutralizer yet?! For those of you not familiar with the movie men in Black, this gadget that tommy lee Jones is holding is a machine that when activated, causes you to immediately forget the last experience you had. And I can use this gadget in my life. Matter of fact, I’m in dire need of it. There are a lot of memories in my life, that I need to get rid of. Purge. Release. Let go. How?

So when you think of a memory, you reactivate the feeling you felt when it first occurred. So I pose this question, to myself; how do I forget, memories that hurt, and don’t serve me anymore? A huge conundrum. Because I haven’t been able to figure it out yet. I still get sucked into the same trap I always do: Victimization.

I, am a victim, of my own thoughts. My focus is ass sometimes, depending on my mood, and where I allow my mind to go with said mood. For example, this morning. I woke up, and wrote about how I’ve never felt included or that I belonged. The world of entertainment is exclusive only to certain people, and I am not accepted or one of them. They are on the inside, and they blocked, deleted, dismissed, and shut the door on me. The end. Ok, sure. Here’s the proof; unemployed, no friends to collaborate with, not famous or rich, and people are abondoning me like flies that fly away from shit after they’ve had their fill. Not a good thought tragectory for success. So all I see now, is the evidence of that of which I believe.

“My shit, is better than your shit! I get paid well, to produce my shit. I feel, that YOUR shit, is inferior shit, so I will block you, even though we were contemporaries at one point in our lives. You went your way, I went mine. My shit got noticed. My shit, got accolades and awards. And your shit? Still shit. Oh, and I no longer want to be associated with YOUR shit, cause your shit, again, is shit. So later, never.”

“Oh yeah? Well my shit, isn’t a sell out to the mediocre shit that is shit! And just because you’re recognized and praised publicly for your shit, doesn’t necessarily mean that the shit you produce, is good shit. I happen to believe that your good shit, isn’t. And I’m true to my shit. At least I’m into my own shit. Your shit you sell to someone else that has the same shit going on. And shit n the shit. Shit is as shit does. So there!”

And never the 2 shits shall mix again, in the shit pile, of life. These last 2 paragraphs? Are shit. They are the energy of this: fear. Let’s break it down: indignation, judgement, separatism, more judgement, non inclusion, rash generalization, labeling, even more judgement, hate, and then.... competition, jealously, bitterness, hurt, jadedness, anger, loathing, and yes, fear.

Thank you, agent j...

On the flip side, maybe that wasn’t how we on both ends feel about one another after all, and we just believe it, due to our fears.

Agent J (played by the wonderful, will smith): ok you two, this is how this it’s now going to go down. Person being ridiculous and not in the love # 1, you say this:

“Well, i don’t think your shit is inferior to mine. I never thought that. I was rude about your shit because I felt attacked. I may not understand all your shit, and I’m usually so busy with my head up my ass looking at my own shit...”

Person not in the love being ridiculous #2, you say this:

“We all are.”

Ok, #1 say this:

“Yes, but I appreciate and value you as a person, and our opposition and shit, isn’t an issue for me anymore.”

#2 say this:

“Really? Cause I’ve always admired what you’ve done with your shit. I mean, you’ve gotten a big big platform for your shit, and that’s cool n shit. And I’m glad that we’re discussing this shit, and our collective shit, finally, cause years have gone by, and all this time I’ve been thinking that you hate me and my shit, cause I haven’t seen you in years, and we’re not in each other’s lives anymore.”

Person #1 say this:

“Really?! You don’t hate me for the success I’ve had with my shit?! I blocked you because I read your shit and I basically thought you were sour shit with your shit, kinda being shitty about me and the shit I’m all about.”

Person #2 say this:

“No, if I insulted you with my shit, I definitely didn’t mean it, and I’m glad we’re cool with the shit now.”

Both of your non loving dumb asses:

“Yeah. Shit. All this time wasted thinking shit about one another...”

Agent j. (Continued): Both, understood? Yes! Great! Go forth, in love!

Agent J, has got it down. Did you take notes? No need. All it is, is empathy, understanding, and communication it. In this case, that’s what love looks like.

There are only 2 true emotions that all emotions end up breaking down to, and those are fear, and love. Anything that doesn’t come from a loving place, is fear. “You are NOT like me.” Fear. “What you do, is not ok with me.” Also fear. Fear comes in many packages, and not all of it is immediately recognizable. But if you stop to think about it, it is about the loveless behavior we exhibit, due to our basic need to be understood, and to belong.

“Why should I belong?! Why?! If they don’t accept me, fuck em!” Fear. “She’s a complete mook! She uses terms like mook, which I judge as a racist term, but in actuality the meaning is italian slang for someone who is an idiot. Fine, she’s not a racist, but she’s judging someone as an idiot! Still hate her...” also fear. Fear runs rampant in our society right now. Hate, is real, because people believe in it’s existence, and react to it because it’s real to them. Our beliefs, create our past, current, and future reality.

So, men in black. A great trilogy of movies. Very smart, very cool, and extremely ahead of the curve as far as human evolution is concerned. They have gadgets for the things that we have control over ourselves, with our focus, and our perceptions about certain subjects. And I would like to be neutralized now, for reactivating all of my past “shit” beliefs about others, and myself. Because I now feel, like shit, having thought about all the past shit that was shit.

So, I pose this question to myself; “if you have that neutralizer machine that allows you to forget what you have just experienced, would it work on the thoughts you remember about the times you felt like shit if you reactivate the shit, by remembering it?” My husband thinks it’s different, and it wouldn’t work. He maintains that you have dragged all of your new experiences to support the old ones with you to your present when you reactivate it. I believe that if the feeling is reactivated, it’s still the same effect, shit, so instead of going back in time, and deleting the actual moment, you should be able to reactivate the feeling within yourself, and eradicate it with the neutralizer. Well, who’s right? Actually I don’t know. Cause how much of your past does it delete? 3 minutes? 10 minutes? Months? Years? There must be a setting or something. Cause in the first movie it’s a few minutes, right?? Then in the 3rd movie at the big climax I won’t give away, it’s like years. Like 3 or 4 years. So he forgot the shit. I mean he forgot everything and everyone and all the shit in between. So, at what point do you remember, what you clearly forgot? And the jump cut would be serious. You’d be like, “holy shit! I was in the shower, and now I’m sitting there eating ice cream on a park bench with some old people in a park on a sunny day and I think I looked like I could be in a karaoke video cause they ALWAYS film shit like that, and why? Cause I need to see a scene of 3 birds molting while I’m screaming“painkiller” by Judas Priest the karaoke version where it sounds like a synthesizer orchestra instead of that good hard rock shit?? And no! Both they and I ARE NOT satan worshipers, & Were also not satan his or her self because We are damn good people... shiiiiit... but wait, I shouldn’t speak for other people, so just forget that I said ANY of that shit, ok? Ok, agent j?

Agent j: yeah? (Say it in the low eddie Murphy is voice, like when he’s reeeeaaal serious n shit.)

Kari: can you delete all the shit I just said up until the point right before this entire thing I just wrote?

Agent j: no. (Say it in Eddie Murphy’s looooow voice again, the one he uses when he reaaally doesn’t want to engage in conversation with you, cause he thinks you’re a crazy witch with semi good grammar, cause I had to fix the “you’re” in “you’re a crazy witch” because autocorrect likes to make me look like I don’t include people and shit. YOU ARE, ok autocorrect?! I know what I’m trying to say! Do you? No! You don’t! So don’t change my shit! I’ll let YOU know when I want my shit changed! You better recognize n shit, witch or some shit...)

Kari: ok, fine. I’ll continue then... (sighs. Hey I tried for ya, people. Don’t say I didn’t ever do anything for ya...)...It’s just NOT not a good subject. All I can say is I love love, and all of loves peoples, which is ALL people, ok?! Cause people think orange is a political party to me, and it’s not, ok?! It’s not! It’s people who choose to be mean and crap like, alright? Cause there’s good people everywhere and why focus on the people who rip on you 24/7, cause you’re worth more than that! So yeah! I endorse my “LOVE shit! Argue with that by yourself n shit, cause I’m gonna love your mean ass regardless, ok? Cause that’s what love dictates my ass to do! Ok?! Yeah! So none of this hate shit any of your asses, ok? Cause I can’t take the shit. Any. More.... and, I love you. I also love those who chose not too, whenever that is, cause no one is 💯 in hate all the time, people are a mixed bag of moods and energies. Take this monologue for example! Good luck with THIS apple, and I love apples, and I love all people who love and hate and are indifferent to apples, therefore I love and choose all people, I engage with all inclusive energy and behavior, I celebrate differences and similarities both, I relish in the love that can be possible when people take the time to check in first with themselves, take ownership of their feelings and energy, and lead from a place of love and empathy, I care about you, and I care about others, and I care about me, as a part of the whole, and I love people, period. Love is the way, anything else is hell on earth. (takes deep breath, cause if you’re performing this monologue, you also have to read what’s in the parentheses too... so I had to make it worth performing, oh! & you better take some voice lesson or learn how to do Netherlands exercises or breathe deep from your diaphragm if you have one in or not to get waaaay down there to say all this shit in one breath, the way it’s intended to be read, or performed, cause I’m like Shakespeare’s first folio where he has a specific way to write and have you perform it with built in inflection called, “iambic pentameter” but no, I’m not Shakespeare, I’m a person seriously fucking with you, but I mean all this shit, at least the love stuff), only I’m naked and wet, cause they zapped my shit in the shower, and planted me in the park as a joke. Well, that shits not funny! Ok?! Cause I’m in a park naked with some old people lookin at my taters and my tots and my non tots in my Netherlands, ok?! So no! Don’t do that shit! Ok? No!

On second thought, we both are. Because our beliefs dictate what is real and true to us individually. So what he believes is true to him, and what I believe is true to me.

That poses another question; “how does one get on the same page with people who are not open to changing or adjusting their beliefs?” Some people are cool with not sharing the same opinions as others. “Oh well, I guess we can agree to disagree, cause I love your crazy ass regardless of our differences.” My ma and I are like that. She and I share different views on a lot of things, but we make it work, because we respect one another’s right to our beliefs, but come together, and choose to focus, on our similarities underneath it all. Do we both love? Yes. Do we both want the best for people? Yes. Do we both agree that love is a great thing to focus on? Yes. Great. Agreed. Love it is!

Love, is our neutralizer. Men in black is awesome, but in 2020, we’ve forgotten the basic principle of love. Love neutralizes the fear. Love brings us straight back together, where it feels better. Being right is great, and feeling indignation is satisfying for a few minutes, hours, months or years, but it never lasts. Love feels better. The reason why we choose to separate, is from a past hurt that we’ve experienced and have reactivated within us. I do it all the time. I find reasons to support my hypothesis that all people disrespect and disclude me. I find reasons, to stay in fear cause it feels safer not to engage.

I’m writing this for myself, as a reminder to stay open. But staying open to me, feels unsafe to people who take my openness and subsequent vulnerability for granted, and use it to their advantage. That’s another unhelpful belief I have. When you support yourself, and love you, you start to recognize that maybe people aren’t all that different from me after all. Maybe we all feel fear, and the need to protect ourselves. Makes sense. So, finding a common denominator (my son is doing math now, so I’m into that line of thought) is important not only for equations but for humanity’s interconnectedness as well. Finding common ground, and similarities, is important if you make it so. Feeling a safe place where we can agree, and all land not feeling taken, and trust is a first step to acceptance. And acceptance is a gateway to inclusion. And inclusion is a gateway to belonging. And belonging is a shared desire of all people. The feeling of love, when unrequited, hurts. So does the unrequited love we have for ourselves.

Thanks again agent j. Continually redefining ourselves, and our definition of love is very important, because we only feel the love is unrequited, when we rely on others to fill us up.

Agent j: you now believe that you are love, and have enough within yourself, for yourself, and everyone else. Now, go forth (yet again, how many times do I have to tell you this..) and LOVE dammit!

Yes. Utilizing the ability to love within ourselves eradicates all of this mess. But the bravery it takes to step out of your comfort zone to do it, that’s up to you. What do you believe? Do believe love is hard, or is it easy? Our beliefs run the show. So let’s take a look at those beliefs for a minute. How do we feel about ourselves, our lives, others, their lives, their beliefs, on and on and on. When you choose love, all of that fades into the background.

We are vibrational beings. We feel first, then think, then compare and contrast, then act. You can feel when someone is loving or not. And what we believe also dictates their supposed intention. So it’s a 2 way street. If we pay attention to how we feel, and look for love, are open to love and understanding that aids in seeing it. If you can’t get there, then choosing the next most loving thought will eventually enable you to see the more loving results in your life. But, you have to stick with it in order to witness it. And sometimes you have to really try to look for it, cause in the current energy of the world today, what you see, is what you have already thought. Old energy shows up, even if we change our minds in the inside. That can feel like ass. “But I’m different, and I’m still experiencing the same crappy thing.” Looking for a solution from the old energy you are reactivating? Probably not going to yield a result you will be happy with. The solutions come, by not focusing on the problem, at least for a bit, until you can adjust.

My son me a new term to me, “disjoint sets” the definition- they are sets that have no members in common. Basically, my old mindset. And then there’s the good ole Ven diagram, I love that one. The definition of a ven diagram is common elements brought together by circles of inclusion. My definition, probably different on google.

But the fact remains, life feels better, when we can share a common bond. Love is that bond. Love, is the underlying answer to all questions, to all comments, and all concerns. It’s a basic principle of life, that I’m still learning. I hope to be brave enough to ace it someday. Either that, or maybe some genius will invent the neutralizer for real. But maybe that’ll only be a temporary fix; kinda like reading the cliff notes. But cliff notes gloss over a lot of the good details. And I think by eliminating the love, I lose the opportunity to feel it.

Now let’s love with everyone, even those that differ from us, and really feel it. Cause you will benefit from it. Class dismissed.

#men in black #will smith #tommy lee jones #scifi writing #sci-fi #aliens #choose love #love #lovematters #love yourself #mind wide open #kari keillor

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ddaenghoney · 5 years

Text

chapter seventeen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): quite a bit of unsettling/paranoia themes around the middle of the chapter (again in regards to stalking from fans). Also, some making out that alludes to more after it !

Word count: 5481

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Headlines of multiple news sites, trending hashtags, and seemingly hundreds of threads in online forums center around the topic that goes viral the day after. With SoundWave wasting no time to act subtly, choosing to take a blunt rebuttal of the independent release of music, they announce a separation of SUGA from the label. Without offering much other than the central reasoning in the official statement attributing a lack of loyalty, and openly rebellious attitude in the way of involving his personal relationships into his music without consent of the company, Yoongi’s public reputation takes a giant strike.

The primary attitude of his fanbase is startled confusion, as is similarly the feelings of pop culture commenters, who all agree that this action made by SoundCloud seems incredibly rash considering how high of status the title SUGA has in the music industry. A threshold of rumors contaminate social websites, all trying to gauge underlying motivations for the company’s decision to completely drop Min Yoongi from the label, feeling like there has to be more words each side could make but holds back.

With slowly passing weeks of conversation stirring faster from the sensationalized wonder that accumulates in the silence of both involved parties, fandoms grow impatient. A future tour scheduled to begin early next year is obviously squashed, and the subtle hints of new music thrown far from any burner of focus. Worry holds a multitude of loyal fans who are eager for clarification from their favorite idol, but no answers are clearly given. Blurry images of Yoongi to and from SoundWave only serve to prove that there are talks going on, especially when sightings of him and Taehyung begin growing consistent as well as thought to be moving vans relocating assumed sound equipment.

Naturally, frustration builds. Latching in tight grips onto every instance your name or image appears on the internet, angry shouts question your involvement with this entire ordeal. Confused as people are, they have little doubt that you deserve the bulk of blame for this dissent between Yoongi and SoundWave. After all, everything had always seemed steady in growth for SUGA’s career before your public involvement with him.

You realize this isn’t true. So much of the situation still lingers in the darkness, far from cameras and microphones to state the severity of everything that led the sequence of events to this point. You know that this whole problem isn’t entirely your fault, but it feels like it. Words cling to your psyche every time you try to peruse even the filtered social media feed of those you follow on instagram, but the comments still remain and grow on every one of your own posts, making you delete the app after only three days into the chaotic situation.

Apologies become common, though usually squashed within your reply to whenever Yoongi tells you them. Worry brims in his eyes just as well as his chest every time he notices anything off in your expressions that relate to all of the responses online. You’re quick to state that this isn’t his fault either, and not to worry about the silence he’s forced to keep while legal affairs are being handled. You’ve already settled yourself with the high chance that he won’t ever be able to make a statement that gives out the picture, just like you won’t ever be able to without losing every royalty you have.

While the online response does burn on your nerves, you can calm yourself by remembering it will eventually blow over to a new topic. It could take a lot of time, but eventually you’ll be able to not be the villain in every assumed narration of Yoongi being fired from SoundWave. Instead, concern wraps around any thoughts you have towards a new job.

With your work history visibly clean of any ink on your resume, you don’t have much to say to combat the fact. And as such you simply use your degree as well as projects from when you were a college student to talk yourself up. But you aren’t naive-- you realize that the gap of time from you receiving your diploma to the current date unease potential employers.

At this point, you’re no longer surprised. The man sitting across from you sits tapping his pen on papers in front of him. They’re spread in a controlled mess on a folder you brought. His eyes scan the words over, but because of the minute hand on the clock behind him reaching a new number, you’re inclined to believe the silence so far isn’t favorable.

Answering the initial questions isn’t usually difficult. In fact, you believe you win over a few uncertain glances in the way you speak with experience, but any opinion gained usually diminishes at the skinny portfolio you present. Every time you’ve passed it, you also feel underwhelmed by the humble sight of it, garnering none of the weight you should have the thin wings filled with. All of that is within your mind.

All of the tension in your mind fills more and more, contemplating what there is to take away from your meager showings of visible experience. This tension comes to a throbbing disappointment when the majority of those who have looked at the portfolio mention Yoongi’s name under their breath.

A large part of you becomes increasingly defensive from these tiny comments. Controlling your mouth from blurting questions in reply to their intentions is a difficult task, especially when the issues have been consistent. Multiple misinterpretations veil over the actual situation underneath the media’s depictions and what your residual contractual obligations to SoundWave will let you fix.

The man’s eyebrows furrow, his head tilting as something he sees perplexes him. You don’t openly react, simply sitting in the chair, legs not particularly tensely poised on the floor and your back only erect enough to be formal. Posture forgot a few interviews ago in favor of knowing glances at the employers body languages when reading through. This subtle confused realization on his face is familiar, but you smile politely as he gets up stating he needs to step out for a moment. As though he’s the first one to go ask questions about you to other people.

Walking into the lobby from the small meeting room, you do little more than sigh, reaching to rub your shoulder as you contemplate your next action. The man’s voice when he came back to the room and stated you’ll get contact in the future if they’d like to explore job opportunities was entirely monotone, and you can’t even be offended by the fact at this point.

Still, reality weighs on your shoulders, growing uncomfortably nagging, and at quickening paces when televisions like the one hanging on the opposite wall post pop news stations with Yoongi’s pictures and titles of dissention between himself and SoundWave.

“Oh,” A voice from the side disrupts the settling glare in your eyes. Softening your expression to one of surprise you turn your head as a figure comes to you. A smile on her face that seems disingenuous, but fitting when matched with the consistent brand name on each article of clothing apparent. “It was Y/N, right?”

In the medley of companies you set out to try landing jobs at, you didn’t take into consideration their current idols. More interested in just getting a place to continue working. But as Seulgi approached you from the way of the elevators, there’s a piece inside of you somewhat glad you’re likely to be rejected from this one. “Yeah.”

“What a coincidence to run into you here.” She says as she places her phone in her handbag. “Looking for work? Heard that you’ve taken a chance at the music production world.”

For the sake of pleasantry, you don’t irritably sigh from having to deal with this immediately following an unsatisfying industry. Instead just shrug your shoulder, “Something like that.”

“Guess it hasn’t been going well,” You’re unable to stop your eyebrows from narrowing at her, but Seulgi is unhindered from your evidently growing annoyance. “It’s a hard thing getting through scandals, especially when you don’t have anything to show for yourself.”

“Such a hard thing that you didn’t mind shoving your boyfriend into it.” You roll your eyes, head shaking as you start to walk away.

“Well, actually,” She catches up to your pace, overlapping you to cut off your trec to the front doors. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Hoseok could use a hand, right? If you want to try to get some work, why not ask him? Independent work is good to help build a resume-- though, I guess Hoseok’s reputation and Yoongi’s current one don’t make companies feel comfortable-”

“What are you trying for here?” Your tone causes a falter of expression in Seulgi’s face, shifting it into a muted shock. Her smile replaces itself with pursing lips, then eventually the picturesque way she poses her shoulders also deflates. Appearing much less superficial, though now openly tired with frustration from the little act she tried to play with you.

“What? I can’t try and do a nice thing for my ex?”

“Ex that you threw under the bus.” Unhesitant. You cross your arms. “Why in the world would I think you’re not trying to gain something right now too?”

“You’re just like Yoongi--I get the relationship now.” She sighs, playing with her hair as her eyes trail off to nowhere. “Well, the relationship you ended up getting yourself after all.”

Your arms tense over your front, quietly startled that she seems aware of the false beginning with your relationship with Yoongi, and even acknowledging that it’s currently real. Part of you wants to question how she’s found out the tidbit of information, though it’s not a top concern of yours. The small fact that she has methods to get information throughout the industry is odd, but you doubt it needs to be a worrisome issue.

“Anyways, I was just offering a suggestion. Three songs aren’t going to cut it to get top companies like this one to let you in.” As if you needed her to say that when the past week has only been proof of that. Seulgi adjusts the hoodie she wears so that it no longer falls off a shoulder, and her eyes appear introspective for the moment of silence before speaking again. “You’re not going to get anywhere without stepping on a few people along the way. You can’t play along with all the rules and expect to succeed.”

If her tone remained snarky, you would have shot a comment in return, as the instant thought in your brain relates Seulgi’s words to her actions against Hoseok in the past. However, the simplistic way she spoke was calm, almost bordering into a somber timbre hidden beneath the surface. At that moment you feel like you see something inside of that shadow, but you don’t have the liberty of pondering it.

“Seulgi, I thought you were using the big dance studio right now.” A voice enters into the conversation, making Seulgi’s head turn back towards the entrance. Looking beyond her, you see a face you again would have expected if you took any consideration to the companies you were skipping through for interviews. “Oh,” Jeongguk’s eyes widen, catching sight of you, a smile forming as he speaks on in happy surprise, “Y/N! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“Hi, Jeongguk.” You give a little smile and nod as a greeting.

“Yeah, I’m late.” Seulgi speaks up while she takes a step to begin a smooth leave, eyeing Jeongguk then you in curiosity of how there’s a mutual connection. But her final words have nothing to do with questions. “Sorry about that whole thing at my party, by the way. Taking your date and all. Just getting a conversation Yoongi owed me.”

Her vague insinuation makes your eyes narrow, following her figure as she casually goes. Already knowing the content of the conversation she had with Yoongi, you’re left to assume that she speaks in a way to ingrain seeds of uncertainty or jealousy under your skin, but all the needless comment does is further you from any positive opinions of Seulgi.

“Something about that seemed hostile.” Jeongguk states as the two of you watch Seulgi disappear down a hall. Instead of screaming out intelligibly from the frustration of your day so far, you just exhale a long sigh, turning your head back towards Jeongguk. His mouth curls into a slightly uneasy smile, not sure of what he just stumbled in on, “Everything okay?”

“I can’t wait to go home and sleep, to be honest with you.” You admit, trying to get humor into your voice, but you’re sure your expression betrays any chance of a joking ambiance as Jeongguk slowly nods bouncing his long locks of soft, warm-toned pink. “Your band is going to be performing at the river festival this weekend, right? Saw online.”

“Yeah, we have a set in the late evening. You going?” His demeanor is wholly casual, pronounced further in the relaxation of his shoulders and lazily situated hands in the pockets of his big hoodie.

“I would, but now’s not really the best time for me to be doing much out.” You smile as your eyebrows furrow a bit. For a moment you consider the fact that he may not know anything, as you recall him not being one to peruse comment sections of social media sites. But as Jeongguk’s lips cast into a frown, he recalls the news your words refer to,

“Oh, right; I heard about that all.” He bites his lip, while removing a hand from the confines of his pocket to push back hair from his face. “Actually, I’ve been out of the country with my group for almost six months now, and, it’s not really my place to ask, but have you been okay since,” He pauses, quickly taking a scan around the area like others may be listening in. “Well, you know.”

You nod your head, understanding that he means to inquire about your state of mind since breaking things off from Jimin at the beginning of the year. “For awhile I really wasn’t,” You admit, but find yourself able to smile as you continue on with full assurance, “But I’m more than okay now. My career may be sort of crazy, but I have people that care about me, so I’m fairing a lot better than I would’ve ever thought.”

“That’s good.” Jeongguk smiles, and parts of you are sure that perhaps he’s even the smallest bit sad that there isn’t hesitation in your voice because his friendship with Jimin would likely root for the fact. But he’s not unfair in that regard, always having been a supportive, close friend of Jimin, but not to the extent of harboring ill sentiment about things like this. “If you’re looking for song writing work just let me know; my band liked the three tracks you and Yoongi released, and I always thought it’d be cool to work with you on lyrics anyways.”

“What?” You blurt in surprise, eyes widening from the easygoing proposition, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk grins in return, wondering silently if the offer is odd because of your reaction. “I mean, why not, right?”

“Even if I’m not an employee here?” You question, still in disbelief at how simply he’d asked for even bits of collaborative work in the future. Where you have been learning to anticipate a lot of hesitation, and even flat out refusal from all of your interviews so far, Jeongguk breaks the cycle out of nowhere. Perhaps you should not be as excited from the simple prospect as you are, but you’re unable to stop yourself from the little success making you vibrant with joy.

“You don’t need to be an employee of any company, Y/N, your skills already speak for themselves to me.”

When you step outside of the building, Jeongguk’s words remain at the forefront of your mind. You type a location on the map digitally showing on your phone screen, unconsciously setting up a call for a taxi, but you think only of the small piece of hope given to you from the offer. The more you consider it, you believe there exists a deeper lesson from that small interaction. It’s like he said to you; the company isn’t as important as your own skills.

You bite your lip, thinking of any contacts made throughout the years. Frankly, not many people beyond SoundWave met you because of your job, but there were still some small acquaintances you’ve gained. Some friends as well, though fewer than you could count with your fingers perhaps. It’s unlikely many would jump at the opportunity to work with you in light of the current news, but perhaps there’s something to consider down that avenue.

Your spine tightens slightly, and suddenly you feel overly aware of the area around you. You lift your eyes from your phone screen to across the street beyond cars going along to wherever. People walk normally as the beginnings of evening traffic occur as they would any day of the business week. With a small shake of your head, you ignore the suspicion in your nerves, letting yourself check notifications on your phone instead as the taxi descends towards you from a few blocks away.

Alerting Yoongi that you’re going to head to his apartment to help him move around items delivered from the company, you eventually press the lock on your phone screen and turn your attention down the road to see if you can spot your taxi’s license. In the same direction is the stairwell into a subway station with its constant flood of people in and out that never remain in the area longer than it takes them to walk. But perched with their elbows on railings overlooking the descent into the subway is a small group of three similar in age to the ones assumed to follow you to Namjoon’s cafe.

Your eyes linger on their figures for a noticeable amount of time, and you don’t believe them to care that they’ve been spotted. You bite your inner cheek, and look back to the taxi app for the time of arrival. Your stomach knots, but you try not to focus on it, because of this occurrence being more regular in the past couple of weeks. If you kept your mouth shut and thoughts from roaming frantically, it would be over just as soon as you stepped into the taxi.

A bump on your shoulder startles you, shaking your heart around in the ribcage, as your throat assumes the worst by trapping air. A businessperson continues along, however, simply going up the road as they chatter away on their phone, completely unaware of the tiny collision. You swallow the air back down, squeezing your phone tightly as it vibrates a tiny series of beats to signify the taxi is soon to arrive.

As you look on at the back of the random person, you notice more eyes in your direction. These ones from a college-age duo, you think. But they’re clearly focused on you, walking on the sidewalk in your direction. Your leg muscle tightens, becoming highly alert of the phone’s they have clutched close to their chests with the camera lenses evident.

The abrupt stop of brakes in front of you brings you back to your current position as does a quick honk from a car bothered by the stop of your taxi as it drives around. Without hesitation you enter inside, stating an affirmative as the driver asks if you were the one with the given destination on his GPS. You can’t contain the sigh of relief flooding out of your lungs as he merges into the flow of traffic and away from the individuals whose walk stopped to stare at the leave of the taxi.

You have high doubts that if the people were truly fans that they would berate you or angrily yell, but nonetheless you didn’t want the onslaught of questions they more likely had prepared to be said in civil voices. You already had the displeasure of weaning along a forceful and awkward conversation on a subway train days earlier. Leading you to start avoiding that means of transportation entirely now.

Arriving at Yoongi’s front door, your finger presses to ring the bell. Listening to the muted sound on the inside you feel your shoulders jumping ever so slightly at the sound, but you shake your head to rid away the sensitivity. Really no one had been belligerent towards you, you were overthinking any of the things that could have happened. Another twitch in your shoulders induces with the knob twisting and with it the door opens to reveal Hoseok whose face eventually slips into a pout,

“Wow, don’t look so disappointed.” He teases you as you roll your eyes and walk inside. “You should be thanking me since I did most of the heavy lifting before you got here.”

“Thanks,” You smile at him in an overly polite manner that causes Hoseok to scoff and shake his head in amusement. “I’m sure you were more than willing to since Yoongi offered to get you a fancy dinner as payment-”

“Wait, don’t tell him that; I was going to avoid it.” You turn towards the way of the bedrooms as Yoongi walks into the living area from it, hair tousled from moving furniture and a loose t-shirt hanging off his shoulders comfortably. You watch him grin as Hoseok shouts an irritated rebuttle about Yoongi’s deflection of payment for helping. As Yoongi comes to a stop a mere couple of feet from you his eyes look towards you and before you know it the teeth peeking from his joke drift away while his brows furrowed with concern, “Angel, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to disburse the worry in your shoulders that you apparently had not been successful to not think about. Wordlessly Yoongi steps closer, initiating a hug that you finish by clinging your arms around his torso.

Hoseok frowns in confusion since you had seemed fine when he opened the door, but glancing up at Yoongi whose eyes are just as unsure of the problem Hoseok decides it’s probably the result of some kind of build up. “‘m going to get that last box unpacked.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi says as his hands rub trails on your back, waiting for Hoseok to leave the room before speaking up again, “Baby, do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m just overthinking something.” You mumble against the cotton soaked in the familiar scent of laundry detergent. With a small sigh you adjust yourself to look up towards Yoongi whose attentive gaze meets yours. Gently he presses a small kiss against your forehead, settling his hands on your sides to give a little comforting squeeze.

“Was it more people following you around?”

“Yeah,” You hide your face against his chest again as you put the problem in the air. “It really, really wasn’t anything much. I just want a hug. It’s been a long day because of the whole job interview session parade I went on too.”

“I can do hugs,” Yoongi nods before perching his chin atop your head. The moment lingers on, granting a warming comfort as you remain encapsulated in Yoongi’s arms. But he can’t help a final, quiet question that is likely the reason for the rate of his heartbeat in your ear. “Did anyone do anything to you, angel?”

“No.” You squeeze your arms around him. “I doubt any of them really would. They probably just want to get information. It’s just uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, it is.” Yoongi’s chest fills from the breath of an inhale as he thinks of all the other instances since news of him being let go from SoundWave released. “I’m sorry, angel, once all the paperwork is done, I’ll try and figure out something to say to the press about everything.”

“It’s okay, Yoon.” You pull away to press a pecking kiss against his lips. He notes your expression to be considerably calmer than minutes earlier. “Really, it’s okay. It’s not your fault anyways. But besides that all, I do have some good news.”

“Oh, yeah?” He keeps his hands on your waist while your arms drop from their gentle encapture of his frame. Your quick nod matching the beginnings of a smile on your lips give Yoongi more cheerfulness as well, “Tell me then, sweetie.”

“I saw Jeongguk earlier and he said he’d be willing to work on songwriting together sometime.” You explain, allowing the excitement you felt then to take over the bulk of your tone. Inquisitively Yoongi’s head tilts,

“Jeon Jeongguk? Where did you see him at?”

“His company after I got interviewed--oh, right, I don’t think I’ve mentioned to you I know him.” You ramble along earning a chuckle from Yoongi as he nods to that fact as well. “Well, I met him through Jimin a couple of years ago, but he’s really nice. It was just an innocent offer on his part.”

“Yeah, I believe that-- he’s really easygoing.” Yoongi nods, turning his head to the hallway as yours looks in the same direction at the sound of Hoseok cursing as he hops on one foot into view while his other foot stays clenched between his two hands.

“I hit my toe on the corner of the door into the room-” He says with a wincing voice, “Didn’t mean to interrupt the emotional fest-- it just really hurt, and I think I should be owed more than just a fancy dinner because of it-”

“If it keeps you from suing me.” Yoongi shakes his head and refrains from laughter like the kind leaving your mouth as you listen to their conversation. Yoongi goes back to resting his head on yours, this time pressing his cheek on top of your scalp when you hug him once more. “But I’m picking the place to eat at.”

“That doesn’t even make sense if it’s supposed to be a payment to me.” Hoseok scoffs as he dramatically hobbles to the couch where he collapses himself onto it. “Y/N, if you asked your best friend to help you move your heavy equipment and this same friend stubs his toe doing it-- and this best friend and you are also getting into a partnership, would you just give him a dinner as payment?”

“Partnership?” You repeat as your eyes narrow, honing in on the one word that slipped into Hoseok’s monologue. “And no I’d buy my friend at least a house.”

“See!”

“A house,” Yoongi murmurs through pouting lips as Hoseok claps his hands to your method of penance. “He already has a nicer apartment than mine-”

“Wait, what did you mean about a partnership, Hoseok?” You ask, poking Yoongi’s stomach to get him to quiet from the tickling sensation. Hoseok actively twiddles his thumbs instead of a verbal. He glances towards Yoongi who responds to his antics with a sigh as he tugs himself off the comfort of hugging you.

“He and I were thinking we’d start our own label.”

“What!” Your eyes grow wide glancing towards Hoseok then back to Yoongi. “Your own music label? Like an idol company too?”

“Well, yeah.” Yoongi says without a lot of conviction as he shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know how many people would actually want to become an idol through us, but at least for Hoseok and I it would be a good way to keep doing music. And on our own terms.”

You stand looking at him awestruck, not at all anticipating the two of them to come to this type of business plan for the future. Frankly, you weren’t sure at all what Yoongi intended to do without SoundWave, but you would have sooner assumed he would simply relocate to another company. The requests for him to do so would no doubt flock after a month or two of the current news becoming history.

“Hey,” Hoseok gets up from the couch, phone in hand as the two of you look over to him. “I’m meeting a friend in a while, so I’ll get out of here. Don’t forget that you owe me a really fancy meal-”

“I get it, I won’t.” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he follows Hoseok towards the front door to see him off. You simply watch, still in a stupor from their casual way of telling you that their idea is to create their own fucking company. You wave at Hoseok as he shouts out a goodbye to you and walks out the door. Yoongi turns towards you as it shuts with an electronic click, finding you still baffled by the news. He rubs the back of his neck as he returns towards you. “We sound crazy?”

“No,” You shake your head and let it tilt as your imagination takes over to see an outcome where the two of them operate a successful idol company. With their production skills and overall talent with music, it didn’t seem far fetched that they at least make a small company that runs well. “I think you both should do it.”

Yoongi smiles gently at the hopeful gleam in your eyes. His hand falls from toying with the small hairs on the back of his neck to find itself entangling your own appendage with a delicate hold. “You’re free to do anything you want, angel, but I was thinking--and Hoseok agreed-- that you could join us and be a producer if we make a company.”

“Me?” Your voice barely mumbles the response, eyes struck wide in surprise at his offer.

“You don’t have to at all--I really understand if you don’t want to take the risk of it instead of finding a place that’s already settled, but,” Yoongi bites his lip, fiddling with your hand as he holds it. He finds your eyes as he sweetly smiles “It can be an option for you.”

With the two happy surprises of the day swimming in your chest, you stand in a stunned quiet as you take them in. For Yoongi and Hoseok, despite their respective scandals, you don’t have any doubt that they could definitely make something out of this idea for themselves. Especially happy about Yoongi being able to do as he wants for himself if they start a company. He’d be completely in control of his representation in the way that he hasn’t had ever since his debut.

And his offer gives the same freedom for yourself to create songs like you’d always wanted as well.

“Of course, I’m sure there’s a lot we have to do to get everything going, so really don’t feel bad about saying no-”

Interrupting his sentence by pressing your lips onto his chattering mouth, You let your arms wrap around his neck, silently grateful for Yoongi's hands steadying the two of you by finding a firm grip on your hips. “I say yes.”

Anticipation and excitement ricochets throughout your chest, exuding outwardly in your smile that you find Yoongi quickly returning with a growing grin. Running his hips in lips trails along your sides, he keeps silent in favor of kissing you again, practically bruising your lips with his own. Your hands mesh into soft locks of black hair, keeping Yoongi held in place as the kiss deepens into an oxygen depriving attachment.

Allowing time for air only when your mouth gasps as Yoongi’s hands find your backside and with a squeeze pulls your waist against his own, your eyes open along with his as you both take in quick sips of air, momentarily frozen from continuing action. Yoongi’s jaw clenches shut as you very obviously allow your hips to grind friction. He watches the beginnings of a smirk take over your expression, and stops the teasing attitude to dip his lips down to your neck.

There his trails tiny molten kisses along the skin, searching until your fingertips curl against his scalp and a small whimper casts out of your mouth. Attaching to the spot, his mouth blisters in a garden meant to flourish red and purple by next sunrise, and his hands continue to press into your ass riding up the fabric of your skirt as a moan escapes your lips, “Yoongi-”

“Do you want me to stop, angel?” He asks with a rough timbre the contrasts the soft ministrations he trails from the love bite to reach your mouth once more. Kissing the outline of your jaw, he hums against the skin waiting for your reply which comes as your hands remove from his hair to cup his face and bring his lips back to yours,

“Not at all.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

also yes ik this chapter cuts off right before the smut lsjkdfkfdghg it’s also not going to be continued into the next chapter sO lkjdsffgdsfjkfg if it’s something you’d like to read as a blurb on its own lmk while commenting on this chapter hehe shameless incentive and i’ll try to write it as an additive piece to the story!

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi@xionysus @baebyjoonie @honeyoongles @betysotelo18

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