#where he just really indulges in his anger and pent up violence all for himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themilky-way · 4 years

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like water {din djarin}

gif credit: no-droids

pairing: the mandalorian/din djarin x fem!reader

summary: when the one person he cares about is threatened, he lets himself indulge in the aftermath of defending them.

warnings: some violence in the beginning, choking (not in the fun way), depictions of scratches, punches, and minor abrasions; the reader is hurt basically. oh and mando’s gun bc yeah❤️umm that’s it i think? nothing too horrible tho but if this thing triggers you, please don’t read !!

author’s note: not to be conceited or anything (is that even the right word for it lol?) but im super proud of how this turned out! requests are open btw for anyone who wishes to submit anything (if unsure, just ask which fandoms)!

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cyar’ika-> darling, sweetheart

nothing in that exact moment had made much sense. one minute the most precious thing to ever exist to him was snatched away, and the next his hands were gripping the treasure beneath his holster. his knuckles were lily-white at this point, holding the gun as hard as his body would allow him to without crushing underneath him, and the urge to cock it made him visibly shake. he’d been given a command, and out of all the merciless men in the filthy galaxy, he needed to follow it, so his weapon of preference stayed where it needed to.

the meager specks of emotion that still lived within him betrayed his prominent composure, the view in front of him blocked by the sudden glaze of his eyes. the small drops of saltwater puddled together in his now hazy orbs, holding on until it was nearly impossible to stay put and then rivered down his cheeks. the cause? well, you.

you were filling up the mandalorian’s line of vision, his eyes darting between you and the bounty that had gone wrong. an alienated hand was wrapped around your innocent throat, your feeble hands wrapped around its wrist in a dumb attempt to break free. the ground you were roaming on before appeared to be never ending, and in the same way, the darkened sky absorbed you whole. vertigo was now in full effect; any quick movement caused you to shut your eyes tightly and hope to the maker you’d get through it. it took a few seconds for you to regain your balance, a sharp pain pinging around your neck forcing you to find it. you half expected to be back on the mud again, to have the man you had spent the past year flying around with pulling you to safety. instead, you found din frozen in place, an instinctive action rooted in the steel handle of his pistol. he wasn’t moving, too scared to blink as if you’d disappear if he did.

perhaps you were; someone like you seemed too good to be true. in all actuality, it may be that you were a fever dream, a celestial that had come down from the sanctity of your home to finally rescue him from his burdens. amidst his frantic glances, he reminisced every second he’d spent with you since your unforeseen arrival, and that somehow worked for him. the gears in his brain started to turn again, and with every ounce of his strength, he pounced on the quarry and did what he should’ve done the instant you were taken from him. anger took over his worry, the effects illustrating themselves in a collage of mitted fists and blood. the pistol residing on din’s waist was useless compared to his hits; the softened position of his jawbone was locked firmly as a result of his gritted teeth and he was going to need more than your delicate hand on his shoulders to ground his senses.

the mandalorian never expected to succumb to anyone, nor to feel remotely joyful upon hearing someone’s laugh. the idea of kindling a relationship was ludicrous, utterly impossible if only he weren’t bound to the chains of his creed. oftentimes, he wondered if someone would one day traverse his path and make him question every moral he’d been taught. din had dismissed the thought, as any other member of his intricate society would have, but the wondrous insight depicting a different lifestyle always lingered faintly in his mind.

today, the very same visions behind his recurrent insomnia framed themselves in a frail art piece. din’s focus laid directly ahead, the fingers navigating the center controls as tight as they’d been on his gun. his eyes deserved to rest, perhaps take in the splashes of color nature was offering him, but he landed them on the same lovely sculpture adorning his cockpit.

you were seated in the chair adjacent from the pilot’s, with your knees closely tucked to your chest. one large scrape designed itself on your leg-a dull reminder of the ordeal you were involved in hours earlier-with flakes of arid blood protecting the wound. bouncing off the skin of your throat were shades of red and purple, now properly mixing into a deeper complexion that’d require you to hide it for some time. besides the scattered nicks living on your face, and the other couple dozen on your arms and legs, the outcome wasn’t as terrible as the one your attacker received. it was a rule of thumb to not mess with a mandalorian, much less with the pretty little lady clutching his arm as if it were second nature. the foolest of fools wouldn’t even have done such a foul thing, and this particular creature came to know the punishment for harming what wasn’t rightfully his.

it truly amazed him; the way you seemed to be so unphased by a traumatic circumstance. the woman beside him-the same one who couldn’t sleep unless a window was open-had endured pain, and the marks on her skin proved themselves in jagged indications of it. through the darkened screen of his visor, din could make out your hands neatly intertwined around your folded knees, your chin simultaneously resting on top. you’d been as observant as you always were, hardly missing his actions as he navigated his newfound family to a safe stop. sure, you were unaware of the loving term he considered of you and the baby, but it didn’t hurt to keep it a secret, right?

“hey.” it came out more hoarse than he intended it to, but the emotion behind it flowed out nonetheless. “you okay?”

not really. i don’t feel good. it was easy to say exactly that, to speak the truth, but it was even easier to lie. for the sake of his own worry, at most. your eyes were still glued to his armor, taking in the rough outline of where you imagined his skin would be underneath, or moreso the abstract idea of feeling it with your hands. reflections of your yearning came and went like the mandalorian’s missions, almost impulsively at times, and the curious, teasing tilts his helmet would bid you only encouraged that craving. much like now; the black “T” of his expressionless face leaned to the side, asking you to earnestly respond. “mm, yeah. ‘m kinda tired, though,” you mumbled.

you threw him a lie and he caught it. “don’t lie to me.” din swiveled his chair to accordingly match the peripheral of yours, his elbows coming to rest on top of his beskar-clad legs. “can you look at me?” he inquired softly. then, his intent fell on the slow shift of your head and how it turned to face him, your cheek settling on your unscathed knee. a breath fell from his lips at the doting admiration swimming in your stare. “there she is,” he confirmed with an upward curl of his lips. “is there anything i can do?” it was sincere; a genuine concern to accompany his question. you hummed in response, fearful to accidentally voice the confessions you hid from him. you blinked once, twice, until his question became a plea. “please, cyar’ika.”

reasonably, you were too busy exploring the shape of his helmet, permitting your creative imagination to paint images of the man next to you; so when your ears perceived his sudden name of endearment, there was nothing amongst the stars that you could’ve possibly denied him from. “you’ve never called me that before,” you smiled, all big and brilliant.

“i’ve wanted to,” the man replied. what resembled ages of pent up stress released with a few curated words. his muscles relaxed, something he never believed to be attainable given his vigorous profession. “god, i’ve wanted to.”

he followed it with a humble laugh. a sound so familiar and warm, so genuine that it empowered your grin to spread higher. “by all means, keep saying it.” now it was your turn to nervously giggle, and him who embraced the noise with everything he could. a mutual infatuation, so wonderfully obvious, yet it was refused acknowledgment. “i think there is something you can do, though.” silence advised you to continue, “can i sleep with you tonight?”

the misguided pieces of your minds’, maybe even your souls’, reattached themselves that very same night. as the both of you slept, hands, calloused and smooth, intimately merged against the cushions of the warrior’s bed. tender kisses planted to your forehead left electricity in their wake, and the dark ambiance of his dwelling favored the entanglement of your tired bodies.

“i wish i could see you, din,” you sighed. the manner in which it was expressed, full of sleep and everything akin, urged him to lift your weightless wrist to his lips.

“you’ll get to one day, cyar’ika. for now just let me hold you, yeah?”

#not me writing fanfiction better than ap literature essays #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal #my writing!

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closer-stars · 3 years

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Fall of the Kingdom

Member: Hongjoong Word Count: 4.4k (mmmm) Genre: it’s just... Dark... and drama. Content: Demon Hongjoong’s got a war but he needs to feed on humans first. Mentions of explosions, violence, blood, suicide ideation (only brushed upon, nothing in detail i promise). Note: This idea came to me after seeing rocker hongjoong and that Iconic dark smile he does. Also this was technically done in one go cause I was Feeling the Inspiration so forgive me if it’s messy. Also this was just an Excuse for me to indulge in an interest of mine. Taglist: @barsformars @miniyeo @hwaberrykiwi @jwyfldr @fvae @yeotlny @inkigayeo

“I’ve become so numb, can’t feel you there.

I’ve become so tired, so much more aware.”

There was something about this new song that made you feel breathless, as if all the frustration and pent up anger has been sucked out of you. Just like the song, you feel a little numb. It was a good thing you were sitting down too, you could barely feel your own legs after that song. If there was a song to describe what your life has made you feel, it would be this song. There were days where you didn’t feel real, if you were still capable of feeling emotions, if you can still reach the expectations of people put onto you.

Silence passes over your earphones and that’s when you realize that the song had ended, loading the next video. You quickly stopped autoplay and had the video play again. This time you had to get yourself to watch the music video. The vocals alone had put you through an array of emotions you didn’t think you could still feel. You weren’t ready for what the video was about to give you. His smile was alluring as if promising you that you are something. His gaze reminding the viewers of strength innate in them even after years of mistreatment from life. To have an artist properly encapsulate all the emotions in you just had you hooked. You wanted more.

No.

You need more.

‘By. Hongjoong.’

You’ve never heard of this artist before. Is he new to the music scene? There’s next to nothing about this Hongjoong online. Just this song on what you assume is his YouTube channel. Just a few thousand views for now. There are a few comments, praising him for his music and his looks (you had to admit, he does look quite attractive.) but not much for you to go about. For now, you drop a like and subscribed to the guy’s channel.

Within the next few days, the views rose to the millions. Comments in various languages were pouring in, all of which seemed to be praise. The comment section has become a forum, people asking others about him. Even you were reading comments hoping for more information. The only sign that he was a real entity behind the screen was the description on his video.

It wasn’t there when you first viewed the music video.

“Hello there. I am Kim Hongjoong. This is my first single, Numb. Please look forward to my future releases!”

He stayed true to his word. Over the past few months, his following has grown. He doesn’t have any other social media account except his Youtube and Instagram (that was only opened recently). While there was a distance between him and his fans in terms of interactions, his music made up for it. His music much like his first single, stayed consistent for being for an audience who have been ignored by life, who struggle for a break. Say My Name, his second single reached a million views within two days. Much like the title, more and more people are talking about him. His music is played in shops and restaurants. It’s hitting the top of the charts and staying there for weeks. He never leaves the Top 10 at least.

People assumed he was going to be a one hit wonder, a lot of independent artists are. But he’s proven them wrong, not through posts on Instagram but through consistently dropping song after song. Songs that remain stuck in your head for weeks to come until he drops another one. The new one being better than the former. He was only getting started. The media and general public have called him a digital monster. Yet, despite all the songs he’s released, no one knows who he really is. Any interview he’s done with the media only scratches the surface of his musical process and his personality. There’s more to him, you’re sure but you just couldn’t place what that ‘more’ is.

People were already commenting on his social media and making posts begging for him to do a concert, or any sort of live performance. Surely his music would sound much better in real life?

On the other hand, there were those who weren’t into his style. They assume and point fingers at him for being someone who associated themselves with the Anti-Christ due to his heavy imagery and music. It’s an age old argument with no solid proof to back it up. Any tongue that speaks against Hongjoong’s music was quickly dealt with by his fans. Though you didn’t like the way they dealt with the opposing views, they had it coming.

After Horizon’s release, he dropped another video. Not a music video, but it seems like him talking to the camera.

“Hello everyone. This is Kim Hongjoong.”

You didn’t think he would speak in such a soft tone. He was dressed head to toe in black, very reminiscent and consistent with his music style, not that you expected anything different. It just seems to fall in line with who he is from what you’ve seen.

“To everyone’s delight, I will be doing a countrywide tour within the next few months. The dates, venues and where to buy are in the description down below. I hope to see you there.” He doesn’t say anything else, but the corners of his lips curve, a charming smile, very much unlike the dark heavy gazes and grins he dons in his music videos.

The video announcement quickly gains views and comments. Foreign fans weeping for an opportunity they can’t experience, begging him to visit them too. Local fans were celebrating in the comments, excited to hear his other hits, especially his debut song, Numb.

To your delight, he’s doing a show near your area. You had to see this guy in the flesh. What better way to deal with your frustrations than with live music? There’s something about his music and him that gives you such an emotional high and that was from just the screen, what more if it were live? You immediately got yourself a ticket, before it got sold out.

Two months before D-day.

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Hongjoong has been monitoring the numbers and interactions done on his posts. It’s easy to see how delighted he is. Even with next to no information about him, he managed to garner a loyal following not only here but internationally as well.

Here’s the thing with this Kim Hongjoong. He’s not human. Not in the fandom praise for his superb skills in music making, no, he’s not from the human realm. Instead, he’s a demon. A demon that feeds on the frustrations of humans. Those wronged by life and society were the most susceptible to his charms. Every night, he walks through the streets, unrecognized by the public. ‘How stupid.’ He thinks as they pass by him without batting an eyelash. He can smell the catharsis of those who listen to his creations. It’s only then that he can point out those who carry bitterness in their hearts, otherwise he waits.

He feels himself get stronger with each passing day. Soon, he’ll be able to show why he’s one of the Greater Princes of Hell. Lesser demons and humans as his soldiers? How delightful would it be to have the damned souls work for him. Surely it would make Wooyoung jealous but he delights in his jealousy.

Was he worried that he won’t get as strong as he wants to? Not at all. Nothing to be worried about when the numbers show just how much people have become an avid follower of his regardless of distance.

Now one might wonder why he does this. What else other than to prove to the beings above him that the ones that call the shots with humans are beings like him? The fearful physique and near perfect mentality of the angels are what pushes people away from believing in redemption. Meanwhile him? He and his fellow demons look like anyone else, save for the striking eye colors and sharper than usual teeth. It’s easy to creep on humans when they deem you as one of them.

He’s careful though, making sure no one recognizes him by his voice when he’s out with the humans. The glamour of being “mysterious” does more than what his peers expected. With the concerts coming up, it makes it easier for him and his fellow demons to find potential hosts to continue their work.

He’s not foolish.

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It’s D-Day and you made sure you looked decent for a long night. In the months that led to this fateful day, you’ve made friends with those who were also fans of Hongjoong. A lot of them were chaotic, but it was something you’ve come to accept. There were always going to be fans that would start a fight for the sake of their favorite artist. While you weren’t one of them, you weren’t one to stop them either should they start fighting someone. Who are you to tell them what to do when you blind yourself at the face of violence.

The lights dim, thick smoke pour from the sides and Hongjoong enters the stage much to the roaring of the fans. They chant his name over and over. It almost feels like a prayer with how fervent they are.

His cocky grin graces his features, with a wave of his hand, the cheering grows louder. It’s loud enough to make the venue feel hot and sticky from the energy.

This is what he wanted.

“Hello everyone! I hope all of you are prepared for the best night of your lives.” He coos into the mic. You could already hear a few women shrieking for his attention to which he gives.

The show stars and entire venue feels like it’s shaking from the constant jumping from the crowd. For a split second, you were a little scared of how the ceiling might cave in from the collective jumping. The chants from the fans are reaching a feverish high. The volume and emotion behind the voices of people who seem to have suffered the same life as you: mistreated, ignored, kicked to the side. All of them want to be heard, to feel as if someone understands.

Hongjoong does. Just not in the way they expected.

Somewhere through the show, you lose sight of your friends. All of them have managed to reach near the barricade, hoping to get a fleeting touch of his hand. As if his touch would be the solution to all their problems. Hongjoong stays near the edge of the stage but never does he go near the crowd, much to their desire to be closer to him.

‘Fools.’ The thought is hidden behind a dark smirk. Some on the side have decided to argue, saying that his smirk was for them and not the other.

Everything feels suffocating; the smoke from the smoke machine, along with the pulsating bodies as if moving as one around you. You feel lightheaded, overwhelmed but heavens be damned because at the same time, you feel so alive. It feels like the crowd is moving as one to Hongjoong’s voice. Despite the suffocation, everything feels so right.

The safety is short lived. To the side, you see a fight breaking out between two guys. You couldn’t clearly see what’s going on but you could tell that punches were being thrown from either side. It’s gotten to the point where the bouncers had to kick them out of the venue, the crowd filling in on the gaps of where the two once were. The show carries on, but you opt to stick to the back to stay out of the still brimming chaos within the crowd.

He’s not fazed by the violence the erupts in the crowd. He lives for it actually. It’s what he wanted to happen. All the emotions concentrated in one room, nothing could beat this feeling. Not even a seat in Heaven could replace the feeling of pleasure he receives from his followers.

The show ends with his debut song Numb. You never left your spot near the exit, you can only imagine the chaos if you left with the crowd of people once the show ends. He blows a few kisses to the crowd, bidding them goodbye and that he’ll see them soon. Whenever that might be.

You leave the premises when he leaves the stage. Time to avoid the crowds.

He stays inside the venue, taking in all the emotions and catharsis as much as possible. It’s the aftermath that always tastes the best. The dazed feeling of his followers as their emotions crash from such a high cathartic moment. The surplus of violent catharsis momentarily has his eyes turn white. It’s rather difficult to keep the human facade when you feel the power surge through your body. Unfortunately, keeping the facade of a human while taking what you need in order to become stronger makes it much more difficult. Such a prison can only take so much.

After all, should the people hold onto their bitterness, it can only give way to violence.

A fellow Greater Demon, a being who named himself Jongho for the sake of normalcy, somehow eyes the still lingering crowd with interest. “You’ve outdone yourself once more. The last you did this was centuries ago wasn’t it?” He can still taste the left over frustrations, such shall be left with the people. Give them some time and that small seed becomes something bigger especially with what Hongjoong still has up his sleeve. The last time Hongjoong had tried to look for a host, disaster struck the nation and forced him into hiding until recently. “What are you going to do with the left overs?”

“That’s right. I failed to find a potential host back then. The potential hosts I wanted just disintegrated into ashes.” He mutters. It’s thanks to him the phenomenon of spontaneous human combustion came to light. He straightens himself up, his eyes flashing white as he tries to contain the energy he has absorbed. “As for the leftovers, let the people keep it. Chaos shall ensue with what I have next.”

“Did you find someone now?” The plan Hongjoong has doesn’t matter to Jongho. What matters is that Hongjoong finds a potential host. That won’t suffer the same fate as those in the past.

He remembers you, clearly staying towards the back, always turning a blind eye to the violence that was around you and he grins.

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The cool air outside the venue was a needed break from everything. It’s only then that you realize how hungry and exhausted you are. Truth be told, after that concert, you could probably sleep for a week with how physically and emotionally exhausted you are.

But first things first. You need to eat.

You find yourself in a fast food restaurant. It was the only thing you could stomach after such a long day of running around with friends and an emotionally charged concert.

There weren’t much people in the establishment. Only two tables were occupied and they were clearly people who didn’t attend the concert. You sit by the corner, busying yourself with your burger and nuggets. The iced fruit juice could tide over your thirst until you head home.

You look up when you see someone enter the premises. If it weren’t for your quick reflexes, you would’ve dropped your food.

It’s Kim Hongjoong. Only he’s already out of his stage clothes but his makeup still gives him away.

There’s nowhere to hide from his view. Instead, you look down and focus on your meal. You try to eat as fast as you can even at the risk of choking. It’s too much for your poor heart. You who went through adrenaline, frustration, anger, then relief in one day. To be in the same establishment as The Kim Hongjoong was too much for you to keep up with.

“Is this seat taken?”

You look at the feet then look up. You try to hide the fact you could recognize him but from the sound of his chuckle, you failed. You gesture to the seat across you as you try to chew slowly. Kim Hongjoong is in front of you. Surely this is just a dream?

He chuckles softly at how you’re staring at him still. “Yes I’m real.” He says as if reading your mind. He finds your shy nature a little endearing, just what he needs for his plans.

“I thought you would still be in the venue…” You admit softly as you try to eat slowly this time. Surely it would be rude to finish before him now that he had just started eating?

“I never agreed to any meet and greet so I managed to leave the premises early.” He explains. It’s whiplash how soft his mannerisms were compared to his music. “What’s your name? You were in my concert weren’t you?” He asks, gesturing to the neon band wrapped around your wrist.

Before you could deny anything, he catches you red handed. You relent to his wishes and tell him your name. “How could you even see me? I was at the back.” Surely he couldn’t see you through all the blinding lights.

He just shoots you a mischievous wink. “I have my ways, dear.” He leads the conversation for the rest of the time, asking you how you found him, your thoughts about his music, and so on. It felt like you were just talking to an old friend who just made it big. You felt at ease with him.

You look at the time and nearly jump out of your seat. “Crap, it’s late. I have to go..” You admit, dejected at having to cut the conversation short. Hongjoong had other plans though, he stood up, grabbing what’s left of his fries and his iced coffee.

“I can give you a ride home. Where do you live?”

This is too good to be true.

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On the ride home, he asks you about yourself, your life, how you find yourself holding up despite everything. You admit that you have a hard time holding yourself up, even having daydreams of the unspeakable. That mere idea puts a frown on his face. The stoplight turns red and his fingers immediately tip your chin up to make you look at him in the eye. The tip of his thumb brushes against the bottom of your lip and in your shock of how fast he moves, your mouth is left slightly open.

“Don’t.”

There’s something in his tone that tells you to not go against his words. It’s perhaps better to not divulge your daydreams, so you promise that you won’t.

He flashes a warm smile at you just in time for the stoplight to turn green.

You don’t know that he’s already imparted a bit of his essence into you. ‘Humans, how gullible.’

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By the time he drops you outside your apartment complex, you’ve exchanged contact details. Both sides hope to stay in touch as much as possible. “Thank you for the ride! Stay safe on the road!” You say as you jog inside.

The male watches you enter the premises of your complex before driving off. Jongho materializes on the seat you left. “How was it?”

The grin on Hongjoong’s lips tells him everything he needed.

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Time has passed and the two of you have been talking consistently day in and day out. The genuinity of the bond was something that made you feel like life was a little bearable now. Shitty but still bearable thanks to Hongjoong and his music. You’ve admitted to him how your life hasn’t been the best and how his music has been something helping you through.

It’s radio silence by next week. No matter how many messages you send him, you receive no sign of him reading it or a response. You genuinely feared losing someone you considered a friend (and a crush but let’s not talk about that). Did he just ghost you?

The silence stretches into months, and the happiness you felt in the previous weeks have disappeared, morphing into the familiar dread you’re too familiar with by now. You’ve accepted the fact that he may have just ghosted you but the radio silence on his youtube channel tells you there’s more to just the regular ghosting.

“BREAKING: Rock icon, Kim Hongjoong has been deemed missing. More info to come at 5PM.”

Something in your stomach drops and you look around you. Hongjoong had already amassed a large following over the past year. In this room alone, you could assume there were ten fans. All eyes were glued to the tv screen. In the distance you hear a loud explosion and sirens, you get out of your seat immediately, leaving the premises. What the fuck is going on?

By the time you stepped foot outside the restaurant, someone comes barreling towards you. Isn’t this the same guy that caused a fight in his concert? You could recognize steely eyes anywhere, but what was his name? The more important question is, why does he look so bloodied and dirty? Also, what was he running from? The two of you stare at each other for a moment before the police have come chasing after him. You’re left with no option but to give way to his chasers.

It’s better to head home than to stay out any longer at this rate.

“BREAKING: Suspect of the explosion earlier today has been caught along with his accomplices.”

Finally back at home, the news outlets have been trying to keep up with the sudden influx of events. Kim Hongjoong has been missing for five days. The explosion from earlier was made by a Kang Yeosang who is, coincidentally, also a fan of Hongjoong. It’s already known everywhere that a fan of Hongjoong is good enough of a cult member. Now Hongjoong might not have mentioned anything about a better land or the second coming like most cult leaders but with the amassed following he has despite his disappearance, they might as well be a cult.

There’s speculation on social media as to what exactly had happened to Hongjoong but nothing is for certain. Fanbases are trying to find Hongjoong’s whereabouts only to come up empty. Fake accounts are popping up, proclaiming themselves to be Hongjoong, giving false leads to anyone who believes.

Some fans have resorted to violence, hoping to get back the artist that they think genuinely understands them. It’s a warzone online and in real life. You’re seeing posts, unsure if they’re real or not, of fans wishing they were the ones that disappeared instead of Hongjoong. Overwhelmed with everything, you shut off your phone and bury yourself in your bed. His music plays faintly and it’s the only thing that’s holding you to the real world.

Everything else doesn’t feel real.

As each day passes, there’s another case of violence and death. It’s got the city by its neck with how rampant the chaos has been. The only way you’re staying sane through it all is through your detachment to all the violence that runs amok around you.

“BREAKING: a 22 year old man caught dead after pretending to be the missing artist Kim Hongjoong online. More information on the found mass burial site to follow at 6PM”

You’ve busied yourself by searching the internet for other artists, hoping to find someone to fill in the hole Hongjoong has left. None of them do the job the way Hongjoong does it. You try to call his number, hoping for something.

“The number you have dialed is out of use. Please check the number you have dialed and try again.”

Please let this just be a dream.

You had a restless sleep that night, tossing and turning. Your dreams were wrought with Hongjoong’s voice, screaming for your help. His voice surrounds your helpless figure until you stop in your tracks and scream out in pain. You’re jolted awake and you feel your body drenched in sweat and fear. “Hongjoong, where are you?” You plead softly, utterly helpless.

The leads regarding Hongjoong decrease as each day passes and fans and the general public have resigned themselves to the fate that he had died. Some of his fans have gone their own ways, though their chaotic ways have never faltered. You on the other hand, still tried to find traces of him despite not knowing a lot about him.

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On the other side of the city, Hongjoong watches the news from Jongho’s living quarters. He’s delighted to see the stress and fear from regular humans. A little variety from the stress of his followers. It’s a good thing he left some violence behind with his followers, those who have nothing to lose do cause the best havoc. Maybe he should keep that Yeosang guy alive to learn a few more tricks. He doesn’t need to tell his followers what to do. Just disappear at the height of his fame and let them do the work.

He takes a shot of vodka as he continues to watch on. Jongho splayed on the couch, watches as well. “What do you think?”

“Perfect. I think Lucifer would be delighted in this. I can already tell my legions are growing with the amount of deaths.”

“How soon will the war be then?” Jongho’s legions are already waiting for his word. His human body appears to be a lot tankier than expected.

“Give my host three months, their nature is perfect in amassing followers around the globe.”

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You have another dream that night, a familiar voice with that addicting smile. “Hongjoong?” You call out, running wherever his voice is coming from. “Hongjoong where are you?!” You call out again but he doesn’t reply, he only giggles at how strained you are to look for him. While it’s perfect to strike when they least expect it, it’s also just as good to strike when they’re at their weakest.

You somehow manage to find him. He looks a little different now, stronger, and something about him doesn’t feel human. He sits on a throne, painted white with obsidian sprinkled upon the back. He doesn’t seem affected by how distraught and confused you look. In fact, he actually laughs at your face at how pitiful you look. He gives you a set of instructions. All of which point to a war that only heaven and hell can conceive.

“Only then can you find me, my dear. Don’t let me down.”

Your eyes glow white when you wake up. Who are you to deny his wishes?

#my writings #ateez fanfic #lmao this was such a fucking mess #but the brain went BRRRRR #also yes SHC was a thing there are records about it but it's been disproven in science lol #tw violence #tw blood #cw suicide ideation

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jjakhosh · 6 years

Text

Chapter 13

Word count: 1.4k

Warning(s): Violence, mention of murder and blood

Wonwoo gave me the idea of starting a diary. At first, I laughed at him and told him that it was the dumbest thing I ever heard. He told me I needed it and then left. I never understood what he meant until I took his advice. Wonwoo sees everything, sometimes, I believe even through us. He gave me this advice because like Jisoo, he saw how much I was struggling inside. By writing, I can let out the pent up frustration within me. I also believe that he gave me this advice to stop me from going to Jisoo for drugs. I wonder if Wonwoo told Jisoo to start a diary, too. Cold he may seem to be on the exterior, Wonwoo is probably the warmest person I know. I caught him tucking in Chan once but I won't tell him that-that would fuck up his cold and mysterious image. We can't have that now, can we?

"This is the layout of the hall the ball is going to use," Woozi explains as he shows the blueprint of the hall on the screen before him and the members. "Here's the stage and behind the stage is the kitchen. There's an exit in there and I believe The8 had already fixed an escape car for us, yes?"

"I opted for a not-so-luxurious car. Is that alright?" The8 asks and Seungcheol nods then gestures Woozi to continue.

"Now, based on Wonwoo's reports, the function hall can hold about 500 people. This is easy. We had infiltrations before where there were thousands more. The catch is, this is the Mins. The Mins could easily be associated with maximum security. We are to expect that this ball is not just any ordinary anniversary ball. According to Wonwoo's report, the ball will also serve as Yoongi's accession to the position."

Soonyoung takes a deep breath as did everyone.

Woozi continues. "As usual, Seungkwan will start the operation with his not so important theatrics," He says, rolling his eyes. Woozi is not so fond of the theatrical side of the operations however everyone enjoys it. Seungkwan just grins. "And then Wonwoo starts the video compilation and we come into play. This is a big operation everyone. We must remember to not leave a single trace. Not even a small one like a button or hair. Like I said before, one wrong move and the whole operation is blown which means we are blown."

"Yoongi's succession, huh?" Seungcheol says with a scoff. "Lately all these companies start having ascending ceremonies. I heard Hanbin is now the CEO of the Steele Construction Firm. Is that correct, Soonyoung?"

"How should I know?" Soonyoung snaps.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"What do you think, leader?" Seungkwan pipes in. Soonyoung glares at him. "They'll find out anyways, hyung."

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks.

"Hanbin said something about Soonyoung's brother. He got pissed."

When the words leave Seungkwan's lips, Soonyoung stands up from his chair and leaves, ignoring the calls of his member.

He walks towards his car, breathing rapidly. Its been such a long time since anyone brought his brother up. The familiar feelings of frustration and anger build up inside of him. He loosens the tie he's wearing then reaches for the keys for his motorcycle in his pocket. He needs to get away, as far as possible or else he'll explode.

"Soonyoung!" Its Jisoo, Soonyoung knows. "Come with me."

"Fucking leave me alone, Jisoo." Soonyoung says through gritted teeth. He hops on his motorcycle, not bothering to put on his helmet as he inserts key into the ignition.

"You're gonna get yourself killed. Just come with me. I can help you."

Soonyoung ignores Jisoo, starts his engine and drives off.

Jiyong, Soonyoung's brother, is not acknowledged as part of their family. Ever since Soonyoung can remember, Jiyong has never eaten a single meal with them nor lived in the same house he did. He was aware that he had a brother but that was it. Jiyong is a taboo topic among them and Soonyoung never understood why. Until, Hanbin came along.

The two were not sworn enemies from the start. Matter of fact, they were best friends. If there was someone who knew Soonyoung's life well, it was Hanbin. He was there when Soonyoung's mother committed suicide; he was there when things started to fall apart. And it started with Jiyong.

Soonyoung remembers the day all too well. He has a scar on his back to forever remind of him that day. The day Hanbin's father was murdered by his older brother Jiyong.

He remembers the amount of blood pouring out of Mr. Kim's head because of the harsh and hard hit of Jiyong using a baseball bat. He remembers his own blood mixing with Mr. Kim's. He remembers the sound of Hanbin's cries and he remembers the wicked laughter of his brother. He remembers the sounds of police sirens and ambulance. He remembers the paramedics rushing to him and Mr. Kim's side and the protests of Hanbin, not wanting to be taken away from his father's side.

He remembers Jiyong's last words as he was being handcuffed. "He deserved it, Soonyoung! He was going to hurt you! I only did it to protect you!"

He remembers everything.

Soonyoung rushes through the highway with tears blurring his vision. He screams, leaning forward.

"Fuck you, Jiyong!" He screams. "I fucking hate you!"

His speed is nearing the maximum, cops are tailing behind him for speeding and for not wearing proper gear. Soonyoung did not care. He just wants to disappear.

“You’ll be fine on your own?” Sohye asks as the two of you walk out of her room and into the living room. The sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor echoes throughout the apartment, creating a soothing sensation within you. It sounds so relaxing for some reason.

“Yes, for the hundredth time Sohye, I’ll be fine.” You assure your best friend, rubbing her arm.

“I’m really going to make it up for you. Thank you so much for understanding me, Y/N.” Sohye says with a pout then brings you in for a hug. “I can’t believe I have to spend my night bored to death with my father and his business partners while you’re indulging in junk food and overdramatic dramas.”

You chuckle. “We all have bad nights, Sohye.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hopefully, not bad at all.”

You nod. “Let’s hope so.”

“Alright. Call me if you need anything okay? I’ll go to you right away. I’ve already instructed the guards to not let anyone and by anyone I meant Jaesuk and Soonyoung in in case they come here. You’re safe, okay Y/N?” Sohye tells you.

You nod once more. “I’m safe.”

She gives you one final hug before retreating out of the apartment. When the door closes, everything becomes silent. You sigh, scratching the top of your head. What should I do? You thought as you make your way towards the couch in the living room. Its an L-shaped one and you lie down on it, grabbing the remote and turning the television on.

You flip through channels, not finding any programs you are interested in. Eventually, you get tired of flipping and turns the television off. “What to do?” You ask yourself out loud.

Then, an idea pops into your head. Young Gods.

You quickly make your way to Sohye’s room and towards her desktop. Firing it open, you immediately click the browser and open an incognito tab. You stare at the blinking cursor for a moment, biting down your lip as you decide between going for it or not. You remember Soonyoung’s words, “being associated with me is dangerous”. Being associated with him also meant you have an undying curiosity. Hanbin told you that Soonyoung’s circle of friends are called Gods because they came from prominent families. If that is true, you conclude that a part of their life—the public one—must be posted online. So far, you have met Jun and Seungkwan. Now, you are curious about the other eleven.

You start typing the first name that pops in your mind: Choi Seungcheol.

Soonyoung finds himself in front of their old house. He would have called it home but its not really. The happy moments spent in the corners of this house were merely fantasies, probably something Soonyoung made up in his mind to escape the cruel reality. As he stands before the marbled mansion, he remembers everything like he is watching a replay of it before him. Every “good boy, my Hoshi” his mother would tell him whenever he would come home and on his hand is abundance of stars. That’s one of the happier fantasies he has. On the other hand, he also remembers every “you stupid little bitch” and “please stop”.

Soonyoung is scarred, deeply. And he longs for the day he becomes healed.

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen gang au #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #soonyoung angst #hoshi angst

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