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mysterytickingegos · 3 years

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Winter Ficlets: Dark

Pairing: Darkiplier x Clairvoyant!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 849

Authors Note: This is technically a sequel to 'I've Created a Monster.’

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[Image Description: A dimly lit picture of a close-up of a Christmas tree with twinkling fairy lights and a single ornament.]

You were making yourself a cup of coffee when the lights flickered above you, and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. "Good morning." You mumbled, looking back at your roommates door to be sure he was still asleep.

"Good morning, my love." Dark turned you around to face him, chuckling at your messy hair and tired smile. 'Morning' was more of an ironic thing, but still you'd just woken up as you were officially nocturnal. "I apologize for the silence this last week, I had a thing to take care of."

"Any chance you'll tell me about this thing?" You asked, taking a sip of coffee.

He raised his brow at you, knowing you already knew the answer. "What do you think?"

"You're starting to hurt my feelings, ya know." You pulled out of his arms and strolled into the living room, plopping down on the couch and moving clutter off the seat next to you, only for him to stand at the back of the couch, his demeanor now right back on the tense side. "I'm kidding, Dark."

"Are you?"

No, you weren't. You knew he didn't mean it but still when the person you love hides the majority of their life from you, you have to wonder why. "Really, it doesn't matter. I'm just glad to see you again."

He apparated beside you, pulling you into his side. The room went quiet, the only sounds being from the almost mute TV and the storm outside. You were practically ready to fall back asleep when he spoke up. "Is that supposed to be a Christmas tree?"

You looked across the room at what he was referring to, a sparse and short pine tree set up in the corner next to a cardboard box. "Yeah, my roommate brought it in and left the box there and then...I don't know, some big girlfriend drama thing happened and it never got decorated.

"...Pity." He hummed.

You glanced between him and the tree curiously. "Did you celebrate Christmas? Before, I mean."

"I did." His voice was soft, and a ghost of a smile appeared. One of the few times that mentioning 'before' didn't just irritate him.

You got up off the couch and wandered towards the tree. "You wanna help me decorate it?"

"Hasn't Christmas passed?"

"Yeah, but it'd still be fun, and nice to look at until New Years." You dove into the box and started pulling out everything on top, and when he walked over you passed him a bundle of lights to unravel. "So...how long has it been?"

"My dear..."

"Come on, I'm just curious."

"I know, that's what worries me. I reveal too much and all of a sudden you're digging where you shouldn't." He sighed, starting to wrap the lights around the tree. "Our... situation is complicated enough as it is. I'd prefer to keep you from messier corners of my life for as long as I can."

"What, you think I'll investigate your death?" You peeked from your side of the tree and he just gave you a very pointed look. "Okay, that does sound like something I'd do."

"I also know that one of these days you're not going to like what you see."

"I found out I'm ‘spiritually connected’ to a supernatural world, and I'm dating something from that world. What exactly is supposed to scare me away?"

He laughed. A real genuine laugh bubbled out of him, which wasn't all that rare anymore but in the context was unsettling. His afterimage flashed a bold red color and he plugged the lights in. "Trust me, I am by far not the scariest part of my story."

"So just tell me about you. Just something small." You pleaded, and before he could say anything you, you stopped him. "And I promise, I won't go looking for anything. I'm asking as your partner, not the neighborhood psychic."

He kept quiet, now looking through the decorations. You took it as a no, and went back to putting some garland up, until he spoke up again softly, "It was 1925. That was the last time I got to do anything like this."

He proceeded, slowly but surely, to tell you about that last christmas while you finished decorating the tree. He told you how he spent it, and how incredibly different it was from nowadays. He got caught up in a funny story about new years and started dropping the names of people you didn't know anything about, but you didn't interrupt him. Instead you just appreciated the way he lit up as he spoke.

One hour and an empty box of Christmas decorations later and you both stepped back to appreciate your handiwork. “It turned pretty nice.” You said, gazing over the lights and ornaments.

He hummed something in agreement before turning his attention to you. “Any other plans for the night?”

“I have an idea for some movies we could watch, c’mon.” You took his hand and went back to the couch, happily planning to stay cosy and cuddled up with him for the rest of the night.

#darkiplier x reader #darkiplier x you #darkiplier fanfiction

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09yards · 5 years

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9 - The Art of Truly Caring (days gone by - nct au)

Donghyuck learns more about himself and the meaning of having a soulmate–an idea he hadn't entertained before.

-> As always this is available on ao3 which I prefer to use for formatting, you can find that link here

Please don’t ever become a stranger who’s laugh I could recognise anywhere

"I think you know why I'm here."

It wasn't a question, there wasn't any doubt in his voice. He knew Donghyuck was well aware what his reasoning for being there was. Donghyuck wasn't stupid, nor was he.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Where's the fun in me answering right off the bat, Johnny ?”

Donghyuck took in his slightly disheveled appearance, giving him another once over before speaking again. "You better come inside, your mum would murder me if he knew you'd been sat out here in the cold and wet waiting for me," Donghyuck sighed, "Lord knows I don't need that on my conscience, nor do I feel like getting killed in my sleep any time in the next week."

Donghyuck's house was usually pretty eerie, it was always too quiet, no sibling's screaming at each other from across the hall, no clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen or the echo of the TV. Wildly different from his own home.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this but I didn't know what else to do."

"It's not a problem, what am I going to do anyway? Turn you away from my front door in this weather? I can be a bitch but I'm not heartless, Johnny.”

“I never said you were. I just wasn’t expecting you to actually let me inside, you seem to be shutting just about everyone out right now, both physically and metaphorically of course.”

Donghyuck shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing two mugs so he could make them some tea, it was the least he could do before he got berated for breaking Johnny’s brothers heart. Johnny just watched in a daze, trying to think through all the things he could say; neither Donghyuck nor Mark were aware of Johnny having witnessed heir argument, having watched as not just one, but two hearts shattered to pieces the moment Donghyuck had let out that first, strangled ‘I’m sorry’.

The two sat across from each other, in Donghyuck's far too clean and tidy living room to have even been lived in, hot chocolate's in hand and heating their only defense against the grim weather.

“Guess I like you too much to do that, plus you scare me slightly when you get into protective big brother mode.”

“You know protective big brother mode applies to you too, right? I’ve known you longer than I’ve known Jisung, you’re just as much my brother as Jisungie or Mark.”

“But Mark or Jisung aren’t the ones who broke your little brothers heart. Or rather shattered it into oblivion and crushes all his hopes and dreams. I’m a horrible excuse for a human-being.”

“Don’t say that Hyuck, you can’t think its the be-all and end-all just because you don’t feel the same way about him, just because you don’t know how you feel or what you feel.”

Donghyuck ran his hands over his face and sighed, "Mark hates me Johnny, I didn't just break his heart - I clawed it out, stomped all over it and chucked it away like he meant nothing to me."

"He doesn't hate you, he could never hate you Haechannie."

Donghyuck scoffed, "And how would you know that?"

"Because that's the thing about soulmates. No one ever realises the true power of a soulmate until they find their own, even then it's practically impossible to explain. There isn't words to describe the pure devotion, that true love you feel, the way you'd do anything for them. Your soulmate isn't someone you give your life too, it's someone who completes you. Without them you'd smile a little less, cry a little more and be a little lonelier. They support you in life and you do the same, you work together, not alone. It's so beautiful. Whether they’re by your side, down the street, or the other side of the world–you’re connected."

"I still can't comprehend how much of a sap you've become."

It was Johnny's turn to scoff, "Come on, be serious with me here. It's just me and you, you know you can talk to me about anything. You don't have to talk about Mark or soulmates, you can talk about school, or applying to uni, or Red Velvet's latest comeback, you don't have to lie or fake anything to me. It’s me Donghyuck and I may not be your soulmate but I’m not going anywhere."

"Johnny, you don't have to do this. You don't have to act like you care... no one else does, not even my own parents. Save yourself the trouble and whatever obligation you feel to be here."

That was the thing about Donghyuck's parents, they just didn't really care. There was no 'I'm proud of you' when he brought his report home, or a genuine 'how was your day?'. The two lived and breathed their work and he would always be thankful for everything they had given him but he couldn't help the feeling of missing the attachment that the others around him had to their parents. He went home to an empty house, the place looked like something straight out of a catalog, not a shoe out of place. It didn't look lived in and it never felt like a home. He'd always spent more time at Mark's or Jaemin’s during his childhood especially, they were homes. Jaemin's always, without fail, smelt like home cooked food, it was warm and cozy with little traces of each member of the family filtering in to every room. Mark's on the other hand was arguably utter chaos , the usual smell of burnt food (Mark has been banned from the kitchen but that doesn't seem to stop him) or the vanilla scented candles his mother adores and insists on putting in every room no matter the weather.

If you asked Donghyuck to describe what a home felt like, whether he thought about it or not, he would inevitably end up describing the Lee's. There were pencil markings on the wall beside the inside of the office door, logging their heights every year since Johnny was four, his personal favourite is this past year when Jisung officially passed Mark in height - and yes, Mark is still bitter about it. Donghyuck likes the way he knows that the chips on the skirting board in the hallway and the dent in the wooden flooring is from when Johnny dropped a bottle of vodka at sixteen and it was his first experience witnessing someone use such colourful language. He likes the way he knows that the light on the fence at the bottom of the garden doesn't work because Jaemin had finally kicked a football into it one too many times and they still haven't gotten around to fixing it despite the fact it was almost five years ago. He liked the little nick nacks that had found their way onto any possible empty surface, random pictures of days out, school events and Polaroids of evenings that are now slightly hazy in their memories but if the smiles on their faces are anything to go by it was enjoyable all the same.

Donghyuck liked the way Mark's bedroom screamed him the moment you walked in. Donghyuck's was plain and simple, aside from the pop art canvas print of Michael Jackson his mum had bought him to replace his 'ghastly' posters. Mark's room was filled with miscellaneous art and clutter he loved despite not having any meaning (it had meaning to him no matter how stupid- it always had meaning), from his giant poster of the periodic table (colour-coded and all), to the one of his favourite football team, the vintage band posters he'd put up to remind him of his dad, to ones of his favourite movies and video games. In all the years they've known each one another Donghyuck is pretty convinced he can count the number of times Marks bed has been made on one hand, his numerous blankets tossed haphazardly around. It was organised chaos, it made Hyuck feel safe and cosy, made him feel like he was home.

"You can't stop me from caring about you Donghyuck, that's not going to happen. I love you just like my brothers, you know that, you grew up just as much a part of the family as anyone else. You don't have to hide who you are Donghyuck, not to me."

"I don't know what to do, Johnny. I don't know where it all went wrong," Donghyuck's voice faltered, barely above a whisper. He let out a faint sob.

Johnny got up from his seat, wrapping his arms around the younger and pulling him into a tight hug as he let out sob after sob. Finally releasing all his built-up emotions.

"Shhh, don't worry Hyuck, I've got you okay. You're going to be just fine, I've got you."

It took a while but the younger had finally calmed down enough to speak again, hesitantly removing himself from Johnny's tight hold.

"So, what I got in between your sobs, Mark confessed but you haven't gotten your soulmate Mark so unless there's some sort of glitch, you and him aren't actually meant to be - wow, my whole life has been a lie if that's the case- and you think you may be 'kinda, sorta, maybe' gay?"

"Yeah that's about the most of it," Donghyuck huffed.

"Right. Honestly don't know where to start with unpacking all of that but you seem might need to talk your feelings out.”

“It feels like my whole life I’ve been told that Mark and I will end up being soulmates, no one ever thought we wouldn’t be. We just ignored it, kept living our lives as best friends and that let me ignore my feelings, ignore the fact that my parents would treat me the same as they did Taeyong if they knew I was gay, that I am gay.

I’ve grown up in a house that doesn’t believe you have to be with your soulmate, that doesn’t believe that there’s just one person out there for everyone. My parents not being with their soulmates made me think there wasn’t anything wrong with it, that people getting sick when they’re apart from their soulmate is some manufactured lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore. ”

“I watched my mum lose my dad Hyuck and whether it’s true or not, she wasn’t the same after. She wasn’t the same for a long time. That love she had for him had nowhere to go, it destroyed her. I don’t have anything against people who don’t date their soulmate, or people who go without ever so much as searching for them. I don’t think it's denying your soulmate that destroys you, it’s denying that love. Love is powerful and all-consuming and it makes you lose yourself for a little while but you always figure it out in the end. Whether you think Mark is your soulmate or not, if you truly care for him as something more than just your best friend, no one will stop you. Soulmates don’t resign you to loving one person.”

"I don't want to be with someone whose heart belongs to someone else. If Mark and I really aren’t soulmates, surely I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak? Just once, I want to be someone's first choice. I'm so sick of being second best all the time."

"Hyuck, you know that's not true. You know you're not second best, that's just stupid."

"Yes, I am. Sometimes it's subtle, like the way my parents finally let me enroll in dance classes or allowed me to dye my hair - but I realised that they were dealing with the fact Taeyong walked out by replacing him with me. I'm not really Mark's best friend, Renjun always will be, but we all know Mark would choose family above all else, you included. You and Ten defy all odds against your relationship because you truly believe in one another and the idea of soulmates. Chenle would find Jisung in every lifetime and Jaemin... Jaemin lives and breathes Renjun. Jaemin wouldn't let a soul so much as harm a hair on Renjun's head he is so in love with that boy. So, no Johnny, I'm not even second best, I'm a last resort to everyone, even my own parents."

Johnny paused, mouth opening and closing a of times while he tried to figure out what to say, "Your parents are really trying to replace him with you?"

"I don't know, it feels like they are. Sometimes they'll accidentally ask if he's coming home for tea or something equally mundane and the looks on their faces when they realise what they've just said... it's obvious they miss him but they won't do anything about it, they're too stubborn to care." Hyuck runs his hands over his face and lets out a deep breath, "They only started letting me do all these things since Taeyong left. They couldn't stop him, he didn't listen, but I did and look where that got me. I'm a stranger in my own home and I have to hide who I really am. It’s like they hope that if they give me more freedom that I won’t turn out like Taeyong or ruin their little picture perfect family."

"I know you're angry right now, at me, at Mark, at your parents... at the world. But, I will always try my best to be there for you and if you need to get out of there please, please just come to ours. I can't stand that you still live there, you don't deserve to be in a place like that."

Johnny gave one of his heart-warming smiles, hugging Donghyuck again. “You are loved Haechannie, there are people who care about you, people who would risk the world for you and you just need to let yourself be open to the idea that someone can love you, for you. Don't be a stranger, stop hiding from the world and let yourself be you again. You didn't get the nickname Haechan for nothing.”

Johnny left after more hugs and tears, telling Donghyuck he’s loved, over and over again. Drilling it into him so he couldn’t forget, so he had no choice but to remember.

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qvestchen · 6 years

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Ten Past Six // Johnten NCT : Chapter Three

Summary: If Ten could describe his relationship with Johnny he would say it was like being in the same city and yet being in a long distance relationship without there being an actual relationship. Because if Ten was head over heels in love with Johnny, he was pretty sure Johnny was as oblivious to his feelings as ever.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Completed

Chapters: Home, Previous, Next.

Ten Past Six // Johnten NCT

Chapter 3 : Red hair suits him

“You are not wearing that!” Ten said, scandalized as he saw Kun walk out of his room wearing a simple beige sweater over some pants. “You’re supposed to make Johnny jealous so he realizes that he loves me.”

Kun patted his sweater and buttoned shirt. “What is wrong with this outfit? Lucas said I look fine.”

“You look like someone’s aunt, not my hot date,” Ten said, beseechingly. “Please wear a choker, at least?”

Kun gave him a look. “First off, I’m not your date and secondly, a choker, really? Ten, you should be grateful I’m coming along on this foolish plan of yours.”

Ten nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t complain. This is your aesthetic.” He looked him over once again before lunging forward. “But at least let me open some of those buttons. And fix that hair!”

In the end, when the two of them reached the 127 dorm to pick up Johnny, Kun was wearing a denim jacket and his shirt was deprived of three buttons.

“Stop fidgeting,” Ten said. “You look hot.”

“I feel naked,” Kun muttered, “and if I catch a cold because of you—”

“I’ll nurse you back to health,” Ten said, waving a hand. “Anyway, here’s the plan. You flirt with me. I act all aloof in front of Johnny. He goes mad with jealousy. At the end of tonight, Johnny professes his love for me. We get married and you will be our kids’ godmother.”

“Wild night. But just in case, your first child will be called Kun,” Kun added, ringing the bell.

Johnny opened the door within seconds, nearly as if he had been waiting for them to arrive.

Ten couldn’t help but smile when he saw Johnny grinning at him. It felt like he hadn’t seen him for ages. He could feel his heart constricting with how much it had missed this tall guy with the beautiful, warm smile. He launched himself at Johnny, hugging him. “John, I missed you so much.”

Johnny hugged him back, laughing. “You look great.”

Kun followed the two of them inside, muttering darkly at Ten’s back. “I’ll act all aloof, he said. Huh.”

Doyoung was nearly dozing on the couch but he gave the newcomers an enthusiastic smile when he saw them. “You’re here. Let’s go!”

Johnny gestured towards him. “Doyoung is coming with us. He couldn’t sleep and needed a night out.”

Doyoung hugged Ten and Kun, looking appreciatively at the latter. “Kun got a makeover?”

Kun shoved him, blushing. “Shut up.”

Ten said, “Oh right. Uh, that’s how Kun usually dresses when we go out.”

Kun reddened even more. “Yeah, what he said.”

Doyoung looked at his own oversized hoodie over faded jeans, then at Kun and finally at Johnny and Ten who had coincidentally worn flowery shirts and leather jackets, and shrugged. “Let’s just go.”

“Wait, we wanted to say hi to the others,” Ten said. “Where’s Taeyong hyung?”

“They’re all sleeping like normal people do at this ungodly hour,” Doyoung said.

Johnny nudged him with an elbow. “It’s just nine-thirty.” He smiled at Ten and Kun. “They haven’t recovered from jetlag, I guess. Let’s go, I can’t wait to try out this famed restaurant.”

The famed Jaeyong-handpicked restaurant turned out to be a cosy, side-street restaurant that Johnny immediately fell in love with. “You were right, Ten. It’s so pretty. I’m going to take a picture.” He placed his bag on the table, rummaging in it for his camera.

“Me too,” Kun said, taking out his phone.

“And I’m going to look at the menu,” Doyoung sighed.

Ten gave Kun a look and the latter hurriedly said, “But first, I’ll take a picture of prettiest person in the room. Give me a pose, Ten.”

Johnny looked at Ten posing and smiled. “I keep telling you, Ten, you are a total muse. See even Kun agrees. Wait, stand together so I can take a picture of you both. The background is really good here.”

Kun looked thoroughly confused as to what to do but the picture was taken with a scowling Ten looking angrily at the camera but soon they were all seated, waiting for their order.

Ten reached for Johnny’s bag. “What book are you reading these days?” Sure enough there was a book. He pulled it out and read aloud, “Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev.”

“I’m nearly done with it. It’s going so well,” Johnny said. “I was telling Yuta the story and he liked it too.”

“You’re still reading Russian Literature?” Ten asked. “I thought you gave up on it months ago. This one is a new one, though. What brought you back to the genre? Man, this brings back memories. Remember how you gifted me Crime and Punishment for my birthday? Dude, what were you thinking?”

Ten flipped through the novel, narrating his shock at seeing his birthday present this year. Opposite him, Johnny’s smile had dropped. If someone had asked him, he wouldn’t have been able to repeat a word of the conversation happening around him. His eyes were unfocused, signalling that he was somewhere else.

He nodded vaguely when Kun asked him something, pointing at his camera gallery but he only realized that the others were looking through his camera when their food was brought in. He thanked the waiter politely, taking the plates as they made room on their cluttered, small table. His hands shook slightly as he placed the plates in front of him.

“Looks like you had a lot of fun,” Ten said. “Plus, I see that someone actually even took pictures of you on your camera. Who did my work there?”

“Hmm?” Johnny peered at the photo he was pointing at. “Oh that was Taeil hyung. His photography has improved a lot.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Ten nodded slowly. “Your camera roll is filled with his pictures. Red hair suits him.”

Johnny hummed.

“Oi, pay attention to me,” Ten said. His eyes softened. “Sorry, you must be tired. Let’s finish here quickly so you can go catch some sleep.”

Johnny looked at Ten’s concerned face and shook his head, offering a small smile. “No, no, I’m sorry. What were you saying? Oh yes, Taeil hyung was my unofficial muse there. Though it was mainly because of how cooperative he is. I told him he should straight up model.” He laughed. “It was really funny.”

Ten nodded again, shaking his head at Kun who was patting his knee sympathetically. Dinner was quickly souring into a silent affair which was saved by Doyoung and Kun gushing over the dreamies.

“Jeno is balancing so many things these days. He’s doing really well,” Doyoung said, excitedly. “He’s going to go far.”

Kun agreed and added, “And Chenle, the baby, is not just doing well in practice and everything but you should have seen his gradecard. He’s a genius. If he wasn’t an idol, he would probably be at Harvard.”

“With Renjun because that one is an intellectual,” Doyoung said, eyes shining. “I’m so proud of the kids.”

Ten caught Johnny’s eye and made a face. “You know, I’m the one they should be proud of. I spend all day listening to Jisung’s game making those irritating noises, Chenle and Renjun bully me while Jaemin, Jeno and Lucas laugh like hyenas in the background.”

“Aww, poor Ten,” Johnny said, “but hey, you spend most of your time at our dorm!?”

“I spent a week with the little devils! Kun didn’t even protect me. Thank god, I get to sleep at your dorm tonight.”

Johnny asked, “You’re sleeping over?”

“Of course,” Ten said, “where else would I be?”

Doyoung cleared his throat. “Kun, do you want to go and try the sweet potato stall outside with me?”

Kun frowned. “There was a sweet potato stall?”

“Yeah, yeah, I saw one when we were coming in.” He grabbed Kun’s arm and nearly dragged him outside.

Johnny watched him go out with a bemused expression.

Ten groaned. “They just tricked us into paying their bill, right?”

“It’s alright. It was my treat anyway,” Johnny said.

“Woah, what’s the occasion?”

Johnny rubbed the back of his head, shyly. “Nothing in particular.” He rummaged in his bag. “Umm, also, I—uh—brought you a memento. It’s nothing great but I…I was passing this shop and I saw it, and I kind of wished then you were there with me, I guess…because you would have liked it.” He laughed nervously, pushing a package towards Ten. “You know what, it’s getting late. Let’s go.”

He got up, handing the bill to the manager. “Thank you for the food.”

Ten got up slowly, blinking at the package in his hand and following Johnny who was walking quickly, head ducked slightly. He felt stunned, heart warm at the thought that Johnny had remembered him and yet the nagging feeling that Johnny was walking away from him hit him acutely. He wanted to say something but he was out of breath suddenly. He reached for Johnny’s jacket sleeve and pulled slightly. “J-Johnny.”

Johnny stopped right outside the restaurant door and Ten nearly walked into him. He looked up at him and found himself shy under the taller’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Johnny smiled a small smile and ruffled Ten’s hair. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“No, I meant…” Ten lowered his gaze, cheeks pink. “You thought of me.”

“You say that like it’s surprising.” Johnny put an arm around Ten’s shoulder. “Woah, why are shivering? Are you cold?”

Ten let out a breath as he felt Johnny’s comforting warmth at his side and he relaxed into a half-embrace. “Okay, now I’m opening it. I’m curious,” he mumbled. He opened the package trying to make as less noise as possible on a deserted street at night. “It’s a painting,” he breathed out, awestruck at its beauty. It was a miniature oil painting of the Hollywood sign in its landscape and Ten knew that he was going to set it right beside the window in his bedroom. It was so beautiful. “I hope it wasn’t too expensive because suddenly I feel so guilty I didn’t get you anything to celebrate Regular. Shit, you should have just brought me a lousy keychain. I feel so bad now.”

Johnny peered over his shoulder. “So, you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” Ten said, winding his arm around Johnny’s. “You have a good eye for art.”

Johnny looked at him sideways as they began to walk back. “I know I do.”

They met a very tired-looking Kun and a satisfied-looking Doyoung as soon as they turned the corner.

“Kun! Look what Johnny brought for me—wait, what happened to your outfit?”

Kun looked away, looking adorably soft in Doyoung’s oversized hoodie.

Doyoung said, “Oh we couldn’t find the potato stall so we looked for it a bit.”

Kun interrupted him, complaining. “I’m pretty sure he dreamt up that stall and then dragged me all over the place to look for it when obviously nobody is around so late.”

“He complained all through it, first about me being an idiot and then about you, Ten, being an idiot and then, he sneezed like five times in his flimsy jacket until I took pity on him and lent him my hoodie,” Doyoung completed.

“You’re an idiot and if you freeze to death, it’s not my responsibility,” Kun sniffed.

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Why am I surrounded by overdramatic people?”

“Don’t squabble kids.” Johnny laughed. “Let’s go home.”

Kun stopped suddenly on the way back. “Oh wait, I have to go to my dorm.”

“C’mon, Kun, Jaemin and Jeno will look after the kids. Let’s go have fun,” Ten said, his hand still in the crook of Johnny’s elbow.

“Actually, Jaemin and Jeno are kids, Ten. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks for dinner, Johnny. Bye then.” He waved politely.

“Oi, will you be okay going back alone?” Doyoung called after him.

“Yes, Mom,” Kun replied.

“The world is not made for kind people,” Doyoung muttered as he followed Johnny and Ten. “Wait up, guys, I’m also here.”

Ten was talking. “So, can I take your bed?”

“You’re taking the couch,” Johnny snorted. “My bed is mine.”

“Let’s decide through rock, paper, scissors,” Ten bargained.

“Uh, no? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll ask Taeyong to lend me his bed then.”

“Oh my god, Ten, you can’t just ask people to lend you their beds.”

Doyoung followed them, feeling ignored and forgotten, muttering. “I have become a third-wheel. Fantastic.”

oooh, did you notice johnny being a bit aloof there for a bit? any guesses? because i swear, johnten have backstories in this so hang on for a bit as things are unveiled and let us know your theories ;)

as for kun, don't you think there's something up with our cutie?

love, positive vibes and sweet potatoes~~

33 notes · View notes

imagine-that-one-thing · 7 years

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This Crazy thing called love. || 3

Authors Note: Here is Part 3, I hope you guys enjoy it, sorry it is short, kinda have a headache and struggled to come up with a good idea for this one. :) xx

Part One

Part Two

You can find my blurb Master list HERE

“So is it over? Is it really it? You’ve given up so easily. I thought you loved me more than this.”

There is a lot that can be said about New York, from the amazing coffee shops I have accomplished to find, to the freezing cold air I am far from used too, but along with everything, I am lonely. I feel somewhat lost and disconnected with the world.

All that makes sense is my work and that is because I have thrown myself head first into it. I haven’t had too much time to take notice of the loneliness I have been harboring, I have been too busy with writing articles and doing interviews— I have barely even managed to get ahold of Harry— I guess the two of us have busy schedules. Well, so I thought.

This morning I was sitting in my temporary office, a lukewarm coffee in my hand, my eyes scanning my laptop screen as I began to think about the next piece of writing I was to write, revolving around the fundamentals of love. I much prefer to stick to the articles about daily issues, realistic and true celebrity news, but the next two weeks are designated to writing about love. Something I have yet to completely understand or feel.

Well, love was the last thing on my mind the moment a magazine was slapped down on my desk by assistant, her lips pursed into a straight line. I glanced down at the cover, and in that moment my heart ceased and the breath was taken from me. There he was, Harry, on the front cover of the magazine.

I didn’t read past the title, “You of all people know this is fake, just because it is printed, doesn’t mean it is reputable,” I slid the magazine to the edge of my desk, and my assistant shook her head at me.

“You know there is always a little truth to every lie.. There are pictures.” She informed me, torturing me when she opened to page six, broadcasting the pictures that explicated Harry and some girl on his arm, the two of them resembling very cosy and loving. Something I never see.

In that moment, I knew why it was arduous for us to get ahold of each other, it was because it was all one-sided. I presumed there was something, I believed that what I was commencing to welcome wasn’t just wine infused or one-sided. I thought I was playing on his mind just like he was playing on mine, I thought the struggle between our communication was because of the distance and time differences, turns out, it was because of another woman being in the picture. I thought the texts were going somewhere, I thought we were moving from friendship to relationship… I thought… I thought he felt the same things I had been feeling, but how unexpectedly was I incorrect. Entirely, bitterly, wrong.

I lie awake in my hotel room, the sheets gracing the skin of my body as I stare up at the ceiling attempting to figure out where I went wrong while a warm body breathes beside me. I tilt my head to glance at the man beside me, Christian, his dirty blond hair falling around him messily, his blue eyes dreaming tightly.

I didn’t know what else to do after finding out about Harry… I found myself in the nearest bar, suffocating my sorrows in some Jack and Coke, something that Harry would usually order for me for fun, but tonight, I ordered it for myself because I was too late in realising that I was in love with him.

I didn’t know until today that I was in love with him, the man who orders my drinks the way I like them, the man who discovers different coffee shops for us to try, the man who gives me his jacket when I am too stubborn to bring my own, purely because it doesn’t go with my outfit. For so long he had been at the tip of my fingers and I took him for granted, I thought we were just best friends, I never apprehended the sparks, the smiles, and the wonderful times together were more than just friendly… I was blind, to say the least.

I overhear the sound of knocking at the door and I sit up gradually, my eyes flickering towards the time that reads Three in the morning. For a moment I frown, contemplating on whether to wake the man beside me up to open the door or to do it myself. I take in a deep breath and I slide out of bed carefully, throwing on the first thing I find, which just happens to be Christians shirt.

I open my hotel door, my eyes growing wide the moment I see the green-eyed and curly, messy haired, Harry in front of me. He looks me up and down, his brows furrowing before his mouth gapes and he steps back and shakes his head.

I don’t know what he is doing here, but I do know the bouquet in his hand is quite an indication of some sort.

My choice of attire is not appropriate at this point, fuck.

He stares at me, keeping eye contact for a moment but his gaze promptly becomes glazed with distaste. “Harry,” I breathe out in a whisper as he turns and begins to walk away, “Harry,” I beckon, his hand thrusting the bouquet of flowers to the floor, his tall figure refusing to stop with long strides towards the elevator.

I step back into my room, mentally cursing as my mind swirls with many different issues, one being that the man I crave just caught me in bed with another man. I race around the room, doing my best to be quiet in the dark before I grab the first pair of pants I can find and shoes before hurrying out of my room.

I don’t bother with the elevator, I hightail it down the stairs, praying that I can outrun the elevator, otherwise I have no chance at talking to Harry.

I reach the lobby of the hotel the bright lights somewhat hurting my eyes as I take a look around at the quiet and deserted area, the only person being the lady at the desk. “Hi, have you seen a tall guy walk out? Green eyes, brown hair? Uhm-” I stammer, trying to catch my breath after the damn stairs that didn’t show me any mercy.

She gives me a small smile, “He walked out about a minute ago, good luck.”

I flash her a smile before making my way towards the extensive glass doors of the hotel. I step into the chilly street, my arms crossing over my chest as the crisp air swirls around me.

“Harry, Harry wait,” I call out, managing to catch him in the freezing street, “Harry, please,” I beg, bustling after him, struggling to catch up to him.

To my surprise, his figure subsequently stops before nonchalantly turning around to face me with his brows knitting in a frown while his eyes burn darkly with hatred and irritation.

“I don’t have anything to say, I have to go,”

“Well, I do.” I press my hand to his arm, stopping him from turning away from me.

His eyes follow my hand before his arm stretches away from me, “Harry, let me explain,” I sigh, my heart sinking into my chest at his gesture. He has never pulled himself away from me before, never.

He manages a deadpan expression, “You don’t need to,” He mutters, his voice deep and clearly angered.

“Harry-”

He curls his lips with icy contempt. “No,” he shakes his head, “Have a good stay in New York, I’ll see you around,” he mutters,

“Harry, don’t walk away from me,” I whisper in a pleading tone, my eyes already beginning to welt up with tears. His eyes soften for a moment, but he doesn’t give in, instead, he marches away from me as though I am absolutely nothing to him.

I stand in the middle of the street, the crisp air taking control of my body as snow carelessly falls around me. I stand still, observing as he continues to wander away from me, not once bothering to turn around, not once giving me any sense of hope.

For the first time, I have fucked up with him.

I have battle scars increased across my heart, but for the first time, I feel as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest and hurled to the ground before being vigorously stepped on. I feel as though I can’t breathe, that the universe is against me in every way possible.

I think I lost my best friend and my lover, all in one.

Maybe this is why love is hard to attain, maybe Harry has always had good reason not to want commitment.

If this is what love feels like, I don’t want it...

___

The last three days have been nothing short of awful, getting out of bed has been harder than it has ever been, not to mention, writing about love when my heart is scarcely beating isn’t an easy job within itself. I would be lying if I said Harry hasn’t been on my mind this entire time, and I would just as equally be lying if I said I haven't ordered a Jack and Coke every night so far to help wash down the pain of regret, sorrow, and heartache.

I sit in the back of my cab, my eyes staring out the window, viewing the city, the town that is meant to hold many dreams, but for me, it has held nothing but a nightmare and an extra desire for alcohol. I’m just trying to drink the demons away—something to wash all the pain away.

I step out of the cab and take a deep breath, my eyes focusing on the entrance of the charity event that I was compelled to attend by my assistant, she was meant to attend and take notes for another article for me to write, but she insisted I needed to get out and claimed to be ‘too sick,’ to attend, conveniently, she had the perfect dress for me set out and everything in order for me to have no excuse to throw at her.

At first glance, I see nothing but a handful of people in a cluttered area, champagne glasses and laughter filling the space that was abandoned just a few hours. Everyone looks like a blur of inconsistencies to me, I feel like I have just been tossed out into the wilderness of the unknown. At a second glance, my heart halts… I am not sure how I am still breathing.

He’s here, the inconsistencies of swimming people abruptly become irrelevant because he is here.

He is the only one not blurred out within my vision... but I know he is probably here with someone else.

I go to turn my head to spare myself the heartache of having to continue to gawk at him from a distance, but his eyes abruptly meet mine and stay locked on my mind for longer than usual before he break the stare and turns back to the company around him. I feel myself sink further into an abyss of darkness and sorrow, the bar suddenly looking like my safe haven, but I share my thoughts away, I swallow my pride and paint a smile on my face.

Throughout the night, Harry and I share glances between each other, him seeming to be the one to ignore my every attempt at a smile. He may as well disregard me as a blanket being tossed to the side of the road after being dragged through the dirt.

I inhale a deep breath and blow out slowly before deciding to sashay myself over to him, angered and determined.

I grab Harry, his body stiffening as I clamp my fingers into his arm, forcing him to face me, “You don’t get to ignore me and treat me like shit, Harry.” I mutter harshly, outraged that he has the nerve to disregard me. Whether he is pissed off or not, he is still my best friend, years of friendship doesn’t go down the drain because of one stupid thing.

His nystagmic eyes scan the area around us before he draws the two of us away from the prying eyes of others, giving us privacy.

He allows me to step in first, still being a gentleman towards me.

He takes control of the silence rather quickly, “I don’t get to ignore you?” He scoffs, closing the door behind him, “I am not the one that went and fucked some random person. Guess that is why you could never return my calls,” He disputes, playing the victim.. He is only partially the victim; I am not the one parading a relationship all over the tabloids at the moment, he is.

“You never called me, I always called you and half the time you never answered, guess you were too busy with her.” I cross my arms over chest, “you can’t just show up to my hotel room with flowers and not have an explanation, what the fuck Harry?”

He stands with his back leaning against the door, his arms crossed in front of him as he furrows his eyebrows, “I clearly wasted my time going to your room that night, all I got out of it is that I am not the only one worried about commitment.”

“You can not make that assumption,” … “Why are you so pissed? You are with that girl,” I find myself waving my hands around in an attempt to get across my anger, distaste, and bitter disappointment.

“What girl?” he asks, irking my nerves as he tries to play stupid. He knows what damn girl, it is all over the media.

“The one from the tabloids,”

“Oh wow,” he sarcastically laughs, “You actually believed them?”

Frustration crinkles my eyes, “There were pictures, pictures don’t lie,”

“It was a PR, thought you would have figured that out, but you’re too busy laying in bed with someone else.”

“I didn’t know,” I dry respond, in my defence, I didn't.

He lifts his shoulders in a half shrug, “Well, now you do. I have to go,”

“Harry, can’t we talk?”

He lets out a harsh breath, “No, I have nothing left to say... “

“But, I do.”

Harry threads a hand through his hair, “Well, it is a little too late… It is clear to me, you have no intentions of being with me as more than a best friend… I thought by now you would have figured it all out. I love you, but you can’t see it.” His eyes flash with fury, defiance, and a small hint of lust before he droops his head towards the floor for a moment.

“Harry-” I begin, but I am swiftly cut off.

“Whatever you have to say, it is too late. I need to go.” He shuts me down, not wanting to hear anything that I have to say, even if it is to confess my feelings for him, feelings that have been harbouring inside me for quite a while, but I never was able to pursue.

I view as he steps out of the room, leaving me abandoned with warm tears descending down my cheeks.

The only man that has succeeded to make me perceive something unreal and desiring has wandered away from me without even knowing that I love him too...

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thealfanator · 7 years

Text

Dandelion’s Tales ~ Chapter 2

“Hi! I’m back again!” I stuttered as I stumbled back into the tavern, the strong smell of ale whacking me so strong it felt like a thousand hammers. I immediately gravitated myself to the nearest table and called for a tankard-full. The same people who I’d met last time – the trio of listeners – sat eagerly opposite me, as if they knew exactly when I’d come at the exact time and exact place… bit creepy to be honest! Anyway, soon as my heavy, cold cup of sweet taste came, I took a large gulp and cleared my throat. I then grinned at them without fully realising it. After I finally got settled in and layered my parchments of scribbled notes over the table, I felt like I’d run a marathon! It had only just occurred to me that I was actually out of breath from all the rushing around Novigrad; It was finally catching up to me. I took the brief opportunity to recollect my posture. Despite all the noise and bustle and chatter coming from the entire building, I felt like the centre of attention; it was probably the six eyes stuck to me waiting for a response making me feel ‘in the spotlight’. For a moment, I had pictured myself in my mind, and imagining that my cheeks had matched the colour of my suit as a reminder of my slight embarrassment.

“Well then!” I began, “time to continue the story?”

So, where was I? Ah, yes: Dune and I were travelling to the nearest village to repair our bruises and collect some supplies for the journey ahead. It had felt like we were moving on horseback for a decade as my falling eyelids were trying to remind me! Along the way, we spotted a stray and lonely horse tied to a tree. Poor thing, I thought; let it go, but no – Dune went ahead and stole it anyway so we both had a horse each. I was hesitant to say that somebody owned that horse, but I didn’t want to get on his bad side so I resisted. I guess being heartless is beneficial sometimes! At least I can’t smell him from here (that always helps!)

“So, what’s your story?” he asked me.

“Me?” I looked shocked, “I’m just a simple bard lost in a clutter of wilderness with no sense of direction, nothing more!”

“I mean what’s your story, I’m curious.” He continued. Fair enough, I thought. He seemed genuinely interested. I was starting to like this man.

“Well I received my early education at a temple school…”

“And at nineteen, I started writing poetry.” I finished a few hours later. I yawned as if it was a silent cry of boredom. I think Dune was feeling the same, and was surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

We reached a village. I didn’t recall the name of the town for some odd reason. Perhaps I was too tired to bother with it, and I just saw a blurry wooden post with jumbles of unrecognisable letters. However, I did notice the fantastic ambience of the village! Mother Nature had clearly taken its toll; it was bustling with inhabitants: cooking, cleaning, sharpening swords. It was a natural beauty, and reminded me of the villages in Velen except this village looked untouched from the poverty and monster presence. It was truly breath-taking. I stopped for a moment and took it all in. Curtains of life layered the exterior walls of wooden shacks. Lovely women who smelt of a (too familiar) alcoholic beverage. Chatters echoed throughout the town, constantly reminding us that it was peaceful here.

Dune led me to a tavern and as we went inside, we noticed the cosiness and warmth that was present. A fire clearly echoed somewhere; the smell of ale also greeting me beautifully. We engaged the counter.

“Bread. Water.” Dune ordered as he smacked down a purse full of gold Orens, I presume. The lady up the counter eyed us almost nervously and, as I peered over Dune’s shoulder, I noticed an element of anxiousness as she shook her arm to underneath the counter and to a place out of our view. For a village this beautiful and tranquil, it felt like a volcano about to burst…

I bloody called it! That’s what I thought to myself as I whimpered in fear as about ten of the bystanders in the tavern suddenly whipped out swords for our necks and ropes for our arms.

“Shit.” I heard my ally whisper under his breath. They ran at us like ants. We didn’t even put up a fight. I tried relentlessly to stop the man behind me from tying my wrists, but to no avail. I stared back at the woman again, palm over her shocked mouth, and shot her evil eyes. I stood there shaking, afraid of the blade at my throat.

“Take them to the cellar!” the man behind me shouted; I could smell his corpse-riddled breath from here, “And take the crimson man’s hat – he doesn’t look good in it anyway.”

I could really spit on his boots right now.

Inside the rotten cellar, Dune and I were both tied to a pole each on opposite ends of the room. To me, it felt like we were suffocating as the stench flooded the room; there was no good source of clean air. Flies zoomed their way around our faces for quite some time and I couldn’t use my arms to wave them away. A dimly lit torch which lie limp on the cold, stone floor was the only way for me to see my almost faceless ally from the other end of the darkness.

“Well, shit.” I said. There was no one else except for us two, which I was thankful for. There’s nothing worse than someone gazing down the back of your neck whilst being nothing you can do about it. Unfortunately, I am familiar with ropes at my wrists as I sighed again. Dune scoffed and tried to wiggle out of his bounds. I sensed that he wasn’t used to being restrained; I noticed a tiny drop of panic about him. I looked around the room – somewhat straining my neck to positions I never knew existed just to look for a way out of this terrible room!

“We gotta find a way out of here.” Dune growled in his usual deep voice. He coughed at the air.

“I’m trying!”

After a while, I gave up. “Dune.” I said as his exhausted head rose slightly, “Why did you trust me so quickly?” I had to ask the question; I was curious, and curiosity always gets the better of me.

“Not now, Dandelion.” I was tired of people dismissing my remarks, but he was right. We had more pressing issues.

Now I guess you’re wondering how I got out of this mess. Well, it was oddly convenient that I found a glass shard from what looked like remains of a bottle just within reach of my grasp! That’s what allowed us to escape so swiftly. The lesson I learnt from this (after lots of thought, of course) was that alcohol is always there to save you! When we surfaced to the clean dusky air, I sent a prayer then laughed to myself.

“Shh” Dune called. We both crouched after I had regained my surroundings. I looked at Dune. Whilst I simply wanted to escape (and to gather my trusty hat), he had fury on his face. He wanted revenge. Carefully, he snuck through the outside of the village – thankful that it wasn’t too over guarded – and looked for… what were we doing? The entrance was right here! There was no reinforced wall around the village; we could just leave. What was Dune doing? After some walking around, we came across our first and last enemy encounter. Dune, without thought, withdrew the blade from the guard’s pocket and swiftly held it against his throat. He was terrified and I could feel the guy’s innocence. I’m not sure which I was more frightened of: Dune’s heartlessness, or the fact that I didn’t realise his brutality.

“Let’s go.” Dune ushered whilst still fumbling with the hostage. We found our way to the, once again, unguarded stables and found our horses. Dune was already ready to go, with the hostage still in his grasp. I was about to get on the horse when I saw it. How could I forget? My hat! It was slung in some mud in the dead centre of the village, next to a well. I had to get it. “No!” Dune whispered, “Let’s go!” I failed to listen to him of course and, damn my clumsiness, fell right into the trap. Just like bandits, the inhabitants rushed out from houses towards me. I almost shit myself, I’m not going to lie, but I grabbed my hat and rushed to the horse. Before anyone could say anything, we were out of there; galloping at incredible speed and losing them in the dense forest.

We waited and I watched him. The innocent man who we stole from the village. Dirt and uncleanliness layered his skin. Stutters of panic took over him. First, we bound him and then we waited until morning – just to be sure the rest of the town had lost our trail. I say “we” carefully because I was shocked at Dune’s heartless nature and unspeakable acts of mercilessness; just like a bandit. In truth, I didn’t want a part of all this ‘human torture’ technique. I thought I just about dozed off into sleep before the man’s squeals woke me. Before I knew it, Dune had a sharp knife against the man’s throat; it glinted in the sunlight and reflected back at me. Dune… just like a bandit. It was discomforting; watching my ally merge into a merciless beast – just like the rest.

“Where are the others?” He shouted as he pressed knife harder.

“I don’t know!” the helpless man replied. I had fidgeted on the grass to a better position as I started to get cramp in my feet. Then I stared at them like I was watching some sort of play, but this time a bit more serious.

“You know exactly what I mean! Tell me or I’ll cut your fucking throat.” As I became more nervous of the situation, the knife equally digging into his throat and revealing a small nick of blood.

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue.” He replied, more anxious than before. I felt like I was shaking more than he was – I wished for no one to get hurt and for the situation to de-escalate, but no words protruded from my mouth. A little more persuasion occurred.

“Where are my friends?” Dune continued. Turned out the hostage knew, and as he told him, he gurgled on the floor after Dune had slit his throat.

“There.” He said, “Wasn’t so hard.” He wiped the sweat from his brow. I took a big nervous gulp and I wondered if he heard it. After collecting his thoughts, Dune stared right into me. “Sorry, Dandelion, unfinished business.”

“You didn’t have to kill him!” I sounded so astonished that I thought I heard my voice break a little bit. His face darkened and I knew I had perhaps gone too far…

“I’m afraid being generous gets you nowhere in this world…” he said. As we left the area, those words still rung out to me like a hot brand would stick on skin.

After what seemed like a few days, we were both pretty knackered. After failing to gather supplies from the village, we were pretty much screwed. But we stuck with it. It was night again and we dismounted our horses to look for mushrooms which apparently embedded themselves at the bottom of tree trunks. Alright, fine, Dune is smarter than I thought – he was obviously used to surviving out here. We lit a few wooden twigs to light the path but we still had to squint to see a foot in front. Then I realised I had stepped awkwardly.

“Uh… Dune.” I coughed, “I can’t move my foot.” I heard him scoff a few steps ahead of me.

“Just move it like a normal person would.” He laughed again, “Wow I thought you were inexperienced but damn I didn’t know you struggled to walk!”

“I’m being serious!” I heard him come back to me to investigate but it was already too late. I heard a latch occur beneath my feet and before I could react, I was plummeting into the darkness and experiencing a sickening feeling of “I left my stomach up there.” I couldn’t even remember if I hit the bottom because I had already passed out. The only vivid thing I remembered was the high-pitched laughs of a creature which definitely was not human, followed by very small footsteps which retreated into silence. I didn’t hear anything after that; I was too busy drifting into darkness…

“That’s it, I’m afraid!” I said as I got up from my seat. Once again, my three audience members had almost collapsed from too much to drink. I laughed and nudged them as I headed to the door of the inn and retreated my way home. The cold, Novigrad night-time air hit me hard in the face but I gracefully took it into my nostrils. “Come back next week for the next part!” I wasn’t even sure they could hear me because I had already wandered away in my drunken state!

I thoroughly hope you enjoyed this chapter! This is a short series which will only consist of about 4-5 chapters however my goal for this series was to pack it with detail. I changed from Geralt to Dandelion for two reasons: to create a fresh, vibrant style of writing and to embrace detail; Dandelion is not a fighter and as a result, relies greater on the detail of this story and less of “slashing swords everywhere” if you catch my meaning! Nevertheless, please leave me feedback - positive or negative - if you wish :) take care!

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