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#This post was just an excuse to experiment with Smile Dog’s color
uncannygoat · 7 months
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Smile Dog is quite the wise fellow.
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yasubloodly · 6 months
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Just Us
Chapter 1: Bentley's Owner
Good Omens x GN Reader
Sypnosis: Moving into a new place will never be easy but making new friends especially with an angel and a demon?
Who knows.
A/N: Decided to post it here too. Uh this is my first time posting here.
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(Y/N) - Your Name
(H/C) - Hair Color
(E/C) - Eyes Color 
(Y/F/N) - Your Full Name
(S/C) - Skin Color
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Over the years, Soho evolved and adapted. It became a haven for the creative minds that flocked to its streets. Musicians, writers, and artists found solace and inspiration in its coffeehouses and underground clubs. The melodies of jazz, soul, and rock 'n' roll filled the air, drawing both the curious locals and the adventurous tourists to its lively margins.
Beyond its artistic allure, Soho pulsates with culinary delights. From hidden speakeasies to renowned Michelin-starred restaurants, its diverse array of flavors tantalizes the taste buds. Soho is an epicurean's paradise, inviting food enthusiasts from all walks of life to explore its gastronomic offerings.
The neighborhood cherishes its working-class heritage, weaving the stories of the past with the energetic rhythm of the present. Traditional pubs frequented by laborers still stand proudly on street corners, their wooden interiors echoing with laughter and tales of days gone by.
Soho may be a small corner of London, but its spirit is immeasurable. It is a place where creativity knows no bounds, a hub of artistic expression and cultural revolution. The legacy it leaves on those who venture through its vibrant streets is one of inspiration and acceptance.
(Y/N) has been living in a big city their whole life, so moving to Soho was a dream come true. Even though they were excited, the hustle and bustle of the city was intimidating and overwhelming. They started to wander around and got lost in the busy street.
As they were trying to orient themselves , something caught their eye. It was a grand old Bentley, parked across the street. (Y/N) was mesmerized by it. The car was sleek and elegant, totally different from anything they ever owned and different from anything they’ve seen before.
The Bentley’s owner was leaning against the car, with his fiery red hair and a black jacket. He remained stern-faced despite the chaos brewing in his mind as he leaned against his sleek Bentley, his gaze fixed at the vintage little bookshop across the street. Even though (Y/N) had made eye contact with the Bentley owner twice, the person never responded which made them feel like they weren’t welcomed.
(Y/N) couldn’t peel their eyes away from the beauty of the Bentley. To them, the car was much more than a vehicle, it was a symbol of adventure. With that car they could travel the world, explore different places and meet people from all kinds of backgrounds. It was a dream come true.
(Y/N) already knew that living in Soho was going to be an amazing experience. They simply had to take this opportunity and make something of it. With that thought in their head, (Y/N) smiled.
"What?" The man spat out impolitely. 
(Y/N) flinched.
"Excuse me...hello, I'm really sorry for staring. You have such a lovely Bentley, I can't help but to stare" (Y/N) awkwardly stumbled not only on their words but on the steps too, talking to a stranger in a place you don't know can be dangerous. Slowly, (Y/N) walks to him but stay a few feets away from him.
"Oh, also I'm new around here so I don't actually know what to do besides walking around..umm" (Y/N) whispered to themselves, Crowley could barely hear them. 
(Y/N) does not want to make a weird first impression to Crowley. Their soft (H/C) hair bounce from every steps they are taking. 
Crowley was bored and a bit hungry. But the human seemed rather polite. (Y/N) had that innocent puppy dog look on their face. Maybe the human wasn't so bad after all, especially because they admired his car. 
He raised an eyebrow at them, wondering why they were approaching him. He didn't want to be bothered by someone looking for directions or something similar. 
However, he still asked, "Are you lost?" Maybe he could give them false directions, he smirked internally.
"Oh! No no... I'm not lost actually. I'm new to this area. I'm just hanging around here. I did visit some shops and uhh that coffee shop behind me, it was good! " (Y/N) directed their finger towards the coffee shop behind them. 
Their bright (E/C) eyes squinted, they smiled awkwardly or perhaps nervously. Their shoulders dropped as both of their hands are at the sides. 
"Hmm, new here. I don't know anyone that looks quite like you," Crowley muttered, looking them up and down. Their nervousness amused him, he was sure he could annoy them even more. 
He looked at them with a serious expression on his face, "What's your name?"
"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm (Y/F/N) , pleasure meeting you umm... " (Y/N) trailed off, trying to get Crowley to tell his own name. 
"Crowley." He said his name with a straight face, even though he was slightly entertained by the conversation.
Then he smirked, and his voice rang with a bit of sarcasm, "Pleasure is all mine," he said, even though he didn't really think that. "Oh, and are you some kind of exotic tourist around here, (Y/N) ?"
He knew (Y/N) just move into here since they mentioned it earlier but he decided to tease them even more. 
Flush creeps across their (S/C) cheeks. Their (E/C) eyes widen for a second before shifting glances all around the streets. "Uh... I'm a freelancer, I move into this neighborhood just to get some fresh air. It looks nice here" They flashes a smile to Crowley as they nervously tucked one hair behind their ear. 
"How about you Mr. Crowley? What are you doing here, I guess you're not new here like me since you look like you're seems to park your car here every days" questioned (Y/N) . 
"Oh, are you trying to figure out my secrets?" He asked with a smirk. "I've got some time to kill, so I thought I'd come and see if my best friend is in the shop."
He gestured in the direction of the shop. "I'm never far from him," he said with a little smile. "I have nothing better to do. I'm so bored. I wish I could fall through a crack in the world to a more exciting world." 
He looked at (Y/N) with a bit of curiosity. "Are you enjoying this part of the world?"
It was indeed a strange question, someone that you don't even know and meeting them for only a few seconds just ask you that. What does he wants? Is he trying to be friendly or just curious. 
(Y/N) glances at the bookshop Crowley gestured to, their eyes sparked as soon as they saw the shop. "Ohh! I would love to visit the bookshop, I was supposed to go there just to look around and introduce myself but I'm taking my time out here. Probably just me been nervous" (Y/N) chuckled. 
They turned back to look at Crowley "I do actually enjoy the world, there's a lot of stuff to be discovered! I get to do things that I enjoy too! " beamed (Y/N). Their smile widen at the thought of enjoying life with everything that they have. 
"It just so happens that my best friend works in that very charming little bookshop." He couldn't help himself, and grinned at (Y/N)'s excitement about the bookshop. 
"Is it really that exciting for you?" He asked, a bit amused. 
"Are you perhaps a fan of books, then?" Crowley wondered, because he himself enjoyed a good book every once in a while. But he was sure that there were many things more entertaining to do than reading. Or so he thought.
"I love books! It's just the smell of books got me feeling gleeful. Besides reading books, I also love listening to music especially when I'm drawing or reading. How about you Mr. Crowley, do you enjoy them as well? "  curiously, they look at Crowley in anticipation. 
"Hmm, you seem like a bit of a nerd," he teased. 
"Yes, I might enjoy books and music too," he said with a small smile. His grin widened, and he glanced at (Y/N) in a way that made they feel as if he was looking right through them. He always found it amusing to see someone blush, and he was sure (Y/N)'s face was starting to get a little pink. 
He took a breath and then asked, "Speaking of music, what kind of music do you like?"
(Y/N) let out a soft breathe laugh "To be honest, I love music like Queen but not a lot of people seems to enjoy it. Quite rare if I must say" They crossed their arms as they crinkles their nose. 
Crowley grinned when (Y/N) started to talk about their favorite band. He loved Queen, and he was actually quite surprised that they mentioned them.
"Queen? Really?" He asked. "I also really enjoy them, they're one of my all time favorites!"
The demon gave a loud laughter and then said, "I never thought that I would ever find someone in a place like this that enjoys music even half as much as I do!"
He looked at (Y/N) , and then added with a flirtatious edge in his voice, "Perhaps you and I aren't so different after all."
(Y/N) giggles, they hums a bit " Perhaps we aren't, Mr. Crowley " they winked. 
"Well, it was nice meeting you Mr. Crowley. I guess... I better go now. That bookshop of your good friend has been intriguing me for almost hours" They look down at their black leather watch, wrapping nicely around their left wrist. 
(Y/N) look up back to Crowley, smiling softly "Unless you wouldn't mind to walk me there and introduce me to your friend? " 
Crowley was surprised by their sudden flirtatiousness. Were they really flirting with him? A human, flirting with him? He liked it. 
"Of course I don't mind," he said with a smirk. "I don't want you to get lost. And it makes me happy to make you happy by introducing you to my friend," he replied with a charming smile. 
He started to walk towards the bookshop. It was almost time for closing, and he was hoping that his best friend was still around.
Before they could even reach to the bookshop. Crowley halted. He was hit by a strong sense of urgency, his heart rate increasing rapidly. He immediately stopped walking, turning to look at (Y/N) with a serious expression on his face.
(Y/N) looked at Crowley in concerned " Is something ma-"
"Something is wrong," he said in a low voice. "I have to go back."
He knew that something important had to happen to disturb him, but as always, his curiosity got the better of him. He decided to at least have a look, maybe it'd be worth it.
He quickly started to walk in the opposite direction, trying to ignore all of the people staring at him and wondering what the heck was going on.
Crowley let out a sigh. "Oh, for Go- ugh, what is it now?!" His face suddenly changed to an angry, annoyed gaze. 
Crowley stopped for a moment and turned to (Y/N). They seemed confused about his abrupt behavior, but there was really nothing he could do about it.
He said, "I'm sorry for taking up your time, but something urgent has come up, something I can't ignore."
Crowley then turned and ran as fast as he could, disappearing out of sight around the corner and leaving (Y/N) all by themselves with no idea what the heck just happened.
(Y/N) watched Crowley's Bentley disappeared as he drives away from there. They already at the bookshop door so they don't mind at all. Crowley business seems rather urgent so they don't really want to bother him. Crowley was an interesting man, wearing all black and his red colored hair stood out even more. 
(Y/N) shook their head, turning around to face the fascinating bookshop that they have been wanting to go inside. They took a deep breath, they look through the glass on the door, trying to find the mentioned friend of Crowley.
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A/N: I'm so sorry that they might be a bit OOC but I've been dying on creating a GO fanfic and finally after 2 seasons 😭 decided to write one. Anyways, reader is non binary,
I'll update new chapter whenever I can so please do not put too much hope on me. At first I wanted to write this as one shots but decided to make it a series. Thank you for reading it!
I might not be a big fan of Queen but I love them🧡
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tunabesimpin · 11 months
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Hey Tuna! <3 Congrats on the 800+ followers, you are a wonderfully sweet, and fun person who deserves all the love! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° I adore seeing your art and had so much fun participating in your last event! I wish you nothing but success and good things come your way! I made a post here with all the info you should need about Yume! But I'll add a summary here:
Yume's plus one is Idia! He didn't want to go and so they told him it was okay and he didn't have to, they could both do something else. But once Idia saw that Yume was giving up a fun experience to cater to him, he reluctantly goes because unfortunately, he is in love.
Yume’s favorite things to do in the summertime are splashing around, building sand castles, of course and getting ice cream to cope with the hot weather! They would definitely want a crack at the splash contest! But in their free time, they’d hang out with friends, eat good food, and collect shells and help Idia make sand castles! And keep Grim out of trouble!
Idia tries to peacefully stay in his shut-in area, playing hand held games in his easy fold-up beach tent, but somehow gets dragged out into the fun!
(oh and my fav color is purple! ^v^) I'll DM you the outfit refs! If you need it <3
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--- It took everything in Idia to work up the courage to go the beach along Yume. Sunburns were bound to happen, sand stuck in shoes, too sunny to see his screens, the amount of people crowding around the party; There was just so many things to go wrong. But the smile on Yume's face when they arrived gave him a bit more reassurance.
Idia was determined to stay on the beach, letting Tuna drag Yume off for some splashing around. He stayed in his thoughts most of the time, wondering if it'd be better to join or leave. It wasn't long before the grey haired weirdo snuck up on him. "Idia!" Tuna exclaimed, somehow already sitting next to him "Come on~ don't you want to go play with Yume? They're dying to get some 'Idia time'." Idia scowled "Quit making things up."
Were they waiting for him? Should he join in the water with them? There's not many people where Yume's at... maybe it would be ok just to walk around together in the shallow area. While lost in his thoughts, Tuna was already taking action. Only coming back to reality as the catfish murmured "I'm taking your silence as a yes! Excuse me then!"
Lifting him off the bench, Tuna began to drag Idia into the water towards Yume. The shock of the situation left him paralyzed until they were at the shore. "WAIT- TIME OUT! I NEVER AGREED TO THIS!!!" Tuna ignored his pleas as they saw Yume run over. Tuna yelled "Look who i got for ya!"
Yume was both concerned and cracking up. Seeing their tall gamer boy lifted like a dog was too endearing. Yume held back their chuckle "Tunaaaa! Don't tease him so much!" Tuna gently placed Idia down with a huff "Fineee~ But just so you know this guy was the one mumbling about wanting walk along the shore with you."
Erupting pink, Idia stuttered his heart out, but Yume was quick to take his hand "Sorry about Tuna, but I'll take you up on your offer... if you would like to walk together still?" There was no question that he wanted to as he firmed his grip on Yumes hand "Lets do it then..." ---
BULLYING IDIA TIME LMAOOOO- I feel a bit bad cause i think Idia would shit bricks being lifted LOL but It was too funny not to HDWADVJWA Anyways we live for Yume Idia content <3 Let them have their beach anime episode !!! THANK YOU FOR COMING TO THE PARTY !!!!
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meruz · 3 years
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Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.
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Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.
1. When did you get into art?
Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.
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2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? 
LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.
In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.
3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.
Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.
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4. What defines your artistic style?
You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...
Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.
5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?
I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?
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I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.
One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.
6. What levels of artistic education have you had?
I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.
7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.
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heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...
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assorted valentines prep doodles
8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?
Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.
10. What do you like most about your art?
I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:
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So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.
14. What do you like drawing the most?
Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.
oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.
15. What do you like drawing the least?
mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.
18. What is your purpose for drawing?
This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha. 
20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)
Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL
In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.
22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”
This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.
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And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.
24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)
I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look
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25. Draw a picture!
Man I’m so tired now but here.
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I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.
OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.
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I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!
I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!
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That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.
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Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:
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from top > bottom
- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen
- tombow fudenosuke
- muji 0.38 ballpoint
- medium size poscas
- grey tombow double brush pens
- good ol bic mechanical pencil
not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.
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You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3
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Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...
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uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.
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I assume these asks are related? LOL
1) Yeah totally true. I love David.
2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at [email protected].
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marrys-dream-world · 3 years
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if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter seven)
Read on AO3
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Notes:  I know I'm late, family things. Don't worry, I'm not gonna abandon this story or anything, I swear. Even after ladynoir july ends, I'm still gonna post. Day 7: Height Difference. @ladynoirjuly
Ladybug knew she was short.
As soon as she started growing, the doctors had warned her parents that she might not do much more of that. After all, she inherited her mother’s body type, so she would never get to a height even close to her father’s towering frame. That’s why Marinette was static when she grew taller than her mother, at least she knew she would not stay that short. There was hope for her, still, so maybe the doctors could be wrong, it wasn’t an exact science, anyway. It's not like her friends remind her of it, not since she kicked Kim in the stomach when he called her shorty at the age of seven. They were mature enough, now, to not need to fall back on jabs at her height.
Unless you were, of course, Chat Noir.
It all started on a relatively grumpy day. Adrien Agreste, the love of her life, had gotten a very noticeable  growth spurt. As she had gotten to class surprisingly early (five minutes before the bell rang!!), she was putting her stuff away on the desk when he came in and was alerted by Nino's loud gasp.
"Dude!" He shouted, attracting the attention of their entire class. "You shot up!"
"Haha, yeah, a little." Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck and turning slightly red. "Happened over the weekend."
Everyone started to congratulate him good-naturedly, Lila suddenly materializing by his side and clinging to his arm in a way that made Marinette's blood boil. Fortunately, Ms. Bustier showed up and sent them to their respective seats. Marinette wondered if she imagined the relieved slump of Adrien's shoulders. During class, she had been unable to fully pay attention, this new development eating her up inside.  Before, she had been perfectly positioned to stare into his green eyes furtively, but now? Her crammed up neck would call too much attention to her. So she spent the rest of the day grumpy, deprived of her daily dose of Agreste’s big greens.
However, when she arrived at their patrol site with a strained “hey, Chat” and got no response, curiosity overwhelmed her annoyance.
“Chat?” She tried again, shaking his shoulder. He glanced at her, stance casual.
“Oh, sorry, my lady.” He said nonchalant and she would have almost believed him if not for the mischievous glint in his green eyes. “Didn’t see you down there.”
Her face matched the color of her suit. “Excuse me?!”
“Having a bad day, bugaboo?” Chat Noir asked, a full smirk now blossoming on his face. “The weather too bad down there?”
She growls at him and he, wisely, jumps away, starting patrol. 
Since then, Chat Noir didn’t miss a chance to take a shot at her. Resting his arm on her head, pretending he didn’t see her coming, ruffling her hair and many more. When they fought Sole Crusher, Chloé’s akumatized sister (being akumatized was a side effect of meeting her, unfortunately, at least that was the most parisian experience she could get on her first day), he would joke about how much harder it would be for the akuma catch her instead of the “normal-sized people”. 
Everytime she would punch him in the closest place she could hit, just a symbolic one (she wouldn’t ever hut him), and then she had to mask the wave of fondness that washed over her as he pretended it was painful and said a “geez, bugaboo, not even Shadow Moth hits this hard, working out too much?”. At school, though, she had other problems.
“Is everything okay, Marinette?” Adrien asked her, looking down at her during the break between math and chemistry. 
“You’re more than okay- I mean, I'm not okay, no, argh. I’m fine, why?” Marinette stammered, trying to not think about how she was at the perfect height to hide her blushing face in his chest.
“You keep looking up at me. Is your neck hurting? Or is something in my hair?”
“Yeah! That's it!”
He frowned. "It 's what?”
“It’s, er, there’s something in your hair!” She lifted her hand to his hair (so! soft!) and ran through it a few times before taking it out. “There, now it’s fine.”
“Thanks, Marinette.” Adrien smiled genuinely and she bit back a gooey sigh. “What was it? In my hair?”
“Just a bug.” She squeaked out, pathetically, but Adrien’s eyes were still soft (fond?), so maybe she didn’t make a complete fool of herself. 
Between the two of them, there was no way she could get more distracted, was what she was thinking. Famous last words. 
It was a Sentimonster with, weirdly enough, no akuma. She hated when he surprised her like that, a new dog learning old tricks. Shadow Moth was usually someone very simple-minded, throwing akumas and sentimonster duos at them with glaring exceptions like Heroes Day. Having a sentimonster with no akuma implied him using new strategies and she didn't appreciate it at all. The Sentimonster, which Chat Noir named Mr. Octi, was a purple giant octopus had sticky tentacles which were impossible to escape.
I'm sorry. Ladybug thought to the civilians caught up in him. Mr. Octi's creepy smile didn't change no matter how much they screamed. 
Distracted as she was, she would have been caught in a purple tentacle if not for the black-clad body that slammed into her and brought her down to a rooftop. Chat Noir turned them around as they hit the concrete, leaving her on top of him.
"Be careful, Ladybug!" He said, carefully cradling her to his chest. 
Even if the suit absorbs most of the impact, she would have winced in sympathy, normally. However, Ladybug had her face pressed into a strong chest as her frantic partner asked if she was okay and stroked her hair. They were strangely aligned, their feet touching and his arms wrapped around her. He smelled fresh (kinda like Adrien the fragrance, actually) and felt warm.
This is nice. She thought, dazed. Maybe Chat Noir wasn't freakishly tall. Maybe… I fit nice here, I think.
"Ladybug?!" His desperate voice broke her out of her trance and she pulled off him like a lightning bolt struck her. "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Great. Dandy." She threw him finger guns and he looked even less convinced. "It's not important! We need to stop the Sentimonster."
When they defeated Mr. Octi and he insisted on checking on her head, it took all her self control to not hide her face on his chest.
It was unfair that Chat Noir of all people was the perfect height for hugging.
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symphonyofthewrite · 3 years
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Seven Years Bad Luck...Or Maybe Just a Moment 
Wonderful cover art by niuan_ on instagram!! Please please go check them out!! Their Castlevania art is incredible!! I'll put a link to their insta in a reblog!!
Fandom: Castlevania Netflix 
Summary: Adrian broke the mirror in his father's study...how will Dracula ever forgive him? 
Originally written for the prompt "Please give us Lisa and Vlad just being loving science parents (bonus points if they’re protective)" I’ll put the link to the original post in a reblog!! 
*
Father was going to be furious.
Adrian’s brain ran through all the potential scenarios; at first his father’s voice raised and came down on him, and at last he felt the dirt outside the castle—thrown out, on the grounds that breaking a mirror was more than bad luck. Sure, it might be a small chance that would happen, but a child’s imagination hasn’t been domesticated yet.
“Are you alright, sweetie?” his mother asked at the dinner table, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve barely touched your food.”
Adrian didn’t say anything. He wanted to speak, to defend himself, to lie, but words were fickle and cruel; they rose to surface, but when he tried to net them, they dove back down his throat.
Emotions, however, weren’t particular about how and when they appeared, and bit even those who weren't trying to catch them.
“I…I’m sorry.” Tears began to fill his eyes.
“Sorry?” Lisa half laughed. “Sorry for what?”
The boy’s golden eyes flickered to his father, who paused, and cocked his head to the side. Only confusion. No anger there…yet.
But surely there would be. His mind offered a seven-course meal on just how angry the vampire king might get in the next few minutes.
Lies, excuses dove down his throat. But the truth wouldn’t stay choked down.
“I…I broke your mirror!” he blurted out, too loudly, “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I—It just fell to pieces! I wasn’t playing with it or anything!”
He heard how loud, how tiny, his voice sounded, and the excuses sputtered and died.
He was ready for Dracula to stand tall, to demand how and why, for his eyes to flash red and…okay, maybe not ready, but expecting it, at the very least.
Instead the Tepes parents looked each other quizzically.
“Which mirror?” His father asked calmly—mirrors weren’t exactly the most common occurrence in a vampire’s house, after all.
Adrian sank down in his chair, his eyes darting away, the words a low, burbling murmur, “The-The one in your study.”
His parents’ faces broke, not in anger, but into forgiving—almost amused—smiles, like he had done something funny and didn’t know it.
“Come with me, Son.” Vlad stood up from the table—but less as the commanding presence, more in a sweeping motion that could take him away with him—holding out a hand.
Adrian’s eyes ran to the safety of his mother. She nodded; go with him.
He got up from the table, taking his father’s hand—(not as cold as one might think)—still apprehensive, but now more than a little curious. His footsteps pattered along behind the calculated tolls in the halls.
They came to the scene of the crime: the study. What was once a smooth, shining mirror, now a pile of glittering glass on the ground. When his eyes fell upon it, Adrian looked away and swallowed.
Dracula let go of his son’s fingers, taking a step forward. He looked over his shoulder smirking a little, and raising his hand.
With one motion his sin was undone; the puddle of a mirror rose, like a dog called by its owner, the jagged droplets coalesced back into the rippling surface.
Adrian’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, seeing himself reflected in it silver waves, as if he was the only one in the room. Vlad put a hand on his shoulder.
“This isn’t a normal mirror.” He waved a hand and the scene within the mirror became something else entirely: a mossy forest. He waved his hand again and before them was a moonlit beach. “It can take you anywhere in the world.”
Adrian took another step closer, mouth agape, staring at the shifting scenes, and reached out. Before he could touch it, however, Dracula waved his hand, and he was reflected in the room again.
“Can we go somewhere?” He looked up at his father, the fire dancing from the mirror to those golden irises.
The kind look in his father’s eyes flickered.
“Not…today.” He turned to leave the room.
Adrian rushed up to him. “Tomorrow?”
The vampire king paused, flicking his wrist, and Adrian jumped at the sound of shattering glass; the mirror had returned to its fragmented pile.
“You have lessons tomorrow.”
The boy followed him into the hall. “The next day then?”
“Son—” Vlad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He sighed and crouched down before him, one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing through his son’s hair.
“You are one of the brightest children I’ve ever met—and I don’t meet a lot of children,” he chuckled. “You are kind, and gentle… and you always do what you feel is right.”
Adrian smiled sheepishly.
His father twisted a lock of his hair around his finger. “But the world out there…”—Excitement ran from Adrian’s toes to the tip of his tongue, but he said nothing; something made his father’s eyes look redder— “Has no place for that.” He turned his nail, cutting the strand of hair. “Your place is here, in the castle, with your mother and I, where it’s safe.”
Adrian looked at the ground, biting his lip, desperately trying to keep the fluttering thing in his stomach from dying.
“But I—”
His father raised himself back up, six feet tall and all vampire.
“It’s time for bed.” He said, and it’s not up for discussion.
“What’s it like, out there?” Adrian asked as his mother tucked him in for bed.
“Well,” she thought about it. “It’s big,” she pulled the covers tight around his shoulders. “Bigger than you could imagine. And colorful, much more than this drab, old place. The sun is so bright, and it has a way of illuminating everything beneath it, making it look more beautiful. And there are hundreds of thousands of animals, howling—awoo!—and meowing”—she pawed at him—“and chirping”—she whistled—“and just as many people—all creating wonderful things, singing, dancing…” She trailed off.
She seemed so happy when she talked about the outside world. Surely it wasn't so awful a place.
“Mother?” he asked softly.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“…Will I ever get to go out there?”
“Why of course! Why do you ask?”
“Father says…he says that the world out there has no place for—”
“Adrian,” she paused, then reached out to cup his cheek“…your father is what most people would call an old fuddy-duddy.” She smiled, then paused, saying more seriously. “He…hasn’t had very many good experiences with people. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“So… you’ll take me out there?”
“Well,” she laughed, “I can’t exactly sneak you out tonight. But yes, one day. Your father will take some convincing, but I’m pretty good at persuading him. …Did you hear about the time I showed up at his front door?”
He’d heard it alright; only about a thousand times.
But there would be a time, many years later, a time when he walked the world, and some mirrors that broke couldn’t be repaired, when he would give anything to hear her tell it just once more.
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A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 1 [NSFW/18+]
Chapter 2 ->
Summary:  You can’t stand Frederick Chilton, but after he’s tortured and left scarred by a former patient, you are afflicted by an irrepressible desire to get him in bed.
This has been posted on AO3 for awhile, but I thought I’d post the chapters here! (Took the liberty of fleshing out the short smut a wee bit.)
2,380 words
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Dr. Frederick Chilton was arrogant and unpleasant.
Everyone thought so, but most would dance around their hostility toward him with subtle digs couched in polite conversation. Not you. You weren’t shy about saying it to his face.
As he exited the courtroom doors, Dr. Chilton saw you waiting in the hall to ambush him, and braced himself for another soapbox diatribe. 
Such a shame, he thought. He recalled how he had tried to make a good impression when you first met, but all his charm kept backfiring, and now you patently despised him. His failure to curry favor was nothing out of the ordinary, but unfortunately, he still had to deal with you. You were one of Crawford’s lackeys, and had made yourself inescapable since Will Graham’s arrest.
“You conniving, idiotic, condescending weasel!” you exploded upon the man with an expensive suit and gaudy cane. “How could you get on the stand and make that bullshit testimony? You don’t know anything about Will!” You withheld the fuck-you’s that time, out of professional courtesy.
He brushed you off and continued walking briskly down the hall, cane tapping on the polished floor, but you followed and walked alongside him.
“Do I need a restraining order against you?” Dr. Chilton said, bored.
You crossed your arms. “Oh, hah-hah.”
“What is it, then?” he sighed, slowing down. Trying to outpace you was more trouble than it was worth, thanks to the pinching of scar tissue in every stride. “I am extremely busy.”
“‘The confused man Will Graham presents to the world could not commit those crimes, because that man is a fiction,’” you quoted his testimony.
“Correct. Is that all?”
“Did you ever consider it’s because he didn’t commit those crimes? You know, being the only one who thinks Will is a psychopath doesn’t make you a genius, it makes you an idiot. Or do you know that, but you’ve just been pining have him locked up so you can study him?”
“Incredible. Mr. Graham has found a truly gullible fool to place under his thumb. I have never met anyone so susceptible to his manipulations. Have you ever been tested for personality disorders?” He regarded you like you were a lab rat with a lot of audacity to be squeaking at him (though to be fair, that was how he looked at almost everybody).
You burned to keep arguing, but he walked down the courthouse steps and got into an obtrusively fancy classic car. Your heart was racing. You weren’t finished with him.
  *****
You seemed to be the only sane person aware that the sweet, empathetic, dog-loving Will Graham was obviously being framed, and did your best to visit him as often as possible at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.
Unfortunately, that meant dealing with its chief of staff.
Every time you visited Will, you ended up clashing with that pompous buffoon and his perfectly coiffed hair. He was notorious for his unethical practices, but since rich white assholes were incapable of being fired, it was your self-appointed job to protect Will from him.
Though, recently, you had to admit two things.
One: you may have been the tiniest bit biased by your fondness for Will, and two: your feelings toward Dr. Chilton had been softening.
Not long ago, Chilton had barely survived being tortured by a former patient, Abel Gideon. The sight of him on a medical gurney cradling his own internal organs in his arms was a horror that would be burned into your brain for life. He may have been an incompetent jerk whom Gideon had every right to want revenge on, but he didn’t deserve that.
You didn’t think he would survive, but in a few weeks, like magic, he was back to play Will’s jailer, a cane in hand but no other sign of the trauma he endured.
Too little sign of the trauma he endured, honestly. After all, he was only hurt because of his own meddling—using psychic driving to convince Gideon he was the Chesapeake Ripper in order to achieve the fame and glory of having treated the Chesapeake Ripper.
But no, he was still bursting full of egotistical remarks and ambition, if a little short on organs.
“I see the experience hasn’t humbled you one bit,” you commented upon his return, when he gloated about the accolades he would receive after writing a book about Will Graham.
“Funny, it almost sounds like you wanted me to be gutted,” he retorted in a pleasantly upbeat voice with a sharp undercurrent.
His rich-boy superiority complex did make it tempting to punch him in the face… but disembowelment was going too far.
Something changed after that. It used to be that you couldn’t wait to get away from him, but now you found yourself wanting to stay and fight longer, your cheeks burning with indignation. Days you weren’t visiting Will, you went to the mental hospital to crusade against Dr. Chilton over ethics and his lack thereof, just for the excuse to see him. 
The two of you exchanged cutting banter the same as always, but you found yourself being more civil... or, at least, your heated arguments felt more playful. Sure, you still called him a dirty slimeball, but now it was a friendly roast and not because you hated his (slightly damaged) guts.  
It was strange. Every time you argued your heart would pound against your chest in anticipation, but you couldn’t figure out why.
Your breaking point came when you barged into his office and discovered him spying on patients’ private conversations with visitors—headphones on, feet up on his desk, holding a Montblanc fountain pen in his mouth and swirling it with his tongue.
He didn’t startle at your unexpected entrance, as a person who feels shame might do when caught in the middle of something so sleazy. He was completely unrepentant about it. Sliding a headphone off one ear and picking up a glass of top-shelf scotch from his desk, he took a slow sip, and smugly asked, “Can I help you?”
What could you say to that? You felt your face heating up, so you turned on your heel without a word, and left. You finally understood what you had been feeling.  
You always took him for a coward—the type who runs crying to mommy the moment his knee gets scraped. But he’d been tortured, brutally, and still wasn’t running away. He got more than what was coming to him, but he didn’t change his manipulative psychiatric practices or grating personality at all.
As infuriating as it was… his resilience was sexy.
Like a switch was flipped, every time you sniped insults at each other, instead of picturing strangling him with his tie, you imagined blindfolding him with it, tying him to a bed and spanking him with his cane. He had the cutest way of shimmying his shoulders when he was trying to be coy about a secret, and that smarmy little crooked smile he made when he thought he was winning used to infuriate you, but now it caused an aching between your thighs. 
After weeks of this, he cornered you in an empty hallway. “Do not think I haven’t noticed you are here far more often than you need to be. You didn’t even talk to Will Graham the last two occasions you paid a visit. What is it, then? What’s your angle? Keeping an eye on me for Crawford?”
“Isn’t it obvious?,” you scoffed. “I want to fuck you.”
“Huh,” he vocalized with detachment.
You’d expected him to be flustered by the bold declaration, or to jump on you immediately. Not to coldly look you up and down like you’d handed him a strange puzzle piece to analyze.
It must have been a long time since he’d been intimate, considering his reputation as a Grade A piece of shit. But apparently he wasn’t that desperate.
To be honest, you weren’t even sure what his orientation was. You may have been completely off base.
“Fascinating, really. For someone who called me… what was it? A ‘morally corrupt assclown,’ you must be in a dire state to consider propositioning me. You know, as a respected psychiatrist, I can recommend some literature on sexual dysfunctions.”
A cold, satisfied smile spread over his thin lips and you realized if your attraction was one-sided, he held all the cards. You made the mistake of delivering him a massive advantage over you, and you were going to make a fool of yourself. He was relishing the power.
There was still time to backtrack on the vulnerability you’d accidentally exposed while he was still trying to figure out if you were joking. But you were around profilers, psychiatrists, and investigators with hidden agendas all day, and you grew weary of conversations having ten layers of meaning and obfuscation.
The honest truth was, it would be nice to get laid.
“Well? Are you interested or not?” You dropped your voice and stepped closer to him, inches from his face. He smelled so clean, like hospital antiseptic and spicy aftershave. His breath hitched as your leg brushed the inside of his thigh—that’s it, that was the reaction you wanted. “Do you want to fuck me, Dr. Chilton?”
Oh, he did.
A barely audible whine rose from the back of his throat, and his hands were around your waist. “I suppose so,” he said, still a little too clinically, though a hard bob of his Adam’s apple betrayed him. His eyes met yours. They were the color of an ocean wave crashing on the beach; an honest, North Atlantic wave that you might find at Chesapeake Bay—not some perfect crystal-blue wave from a tropical paradise. “It couldn’t hurt to let off some steam.”
“Precisely,” you nodded. Just two adults doing the logical thing. That’s right. No squishy vulnerable feelings that could be used against you. Just relieving tension.
He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you hastily into the nearest unoccupied space. The door to the cramped supply closet clicked shut, and he leered at you with eyes that seemed to glow with hunger in the dark. You felt pleasantly like a small animal trapped with a wolf about to be devoured. A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine and sent heat rushing between your thighs. Before you knew it you were flipped standing with him pressed against your back, pumping into you with muffled moans—as frenzied with desperation as you’d fantasized he would be—as you braced against a metal shelf crammed with pens and packs of post-it notes.
He was strong. You had expected his suit to hide the flaccid body of a sedentary academic, fragranced of old books, but when he pulled your hips into his your body moved.
After finishing inside you with a ragged, tortured breath (barely choking back a too-vulnerable moan), he hastily zipped himself back into his pants and left you to clean yourself up on your own, without so much as a nod to ceremony or pleasantries. That was the end of that, you figured—exactly what you asked for, no more no less. Little did you know, Dr. Chilton had no intention of leaving things off at one quickie in a closet.
Before you left, he pulled you into his office and provoked you with lewd remarks about fucking you on his desk—so you knocked the clutter off it onto the floor to make room. He shrieked like a toddler as his very important papers and very expensive office décor went flying, having neither thought through the actual consequences of desk-sex nor expected you to call his bluff. His beautiful seawater eyes went wide as you pushed him back on the broad mahogany surface and climbed on top of him. Then you were riding him, chasing your climax with his well-manicured hands kneading your ass cheeks, pulling you deeper and deeper with each stroke of your hips. And still you wanted more. You wanted to fuck him into next week.
And then you were in his unreasonably lavish home, in his unreasonably, decadently oversized bed, his mouth feverishly working your heat, and you repaying him by making him come over and over until it was torture, until he could no longer hold back the whimpering sobs of pleasure as he fell apart, and he passed out from fatigue. You collapsed next to him on the bed, panting, sweating, and shaking with over-stimulation.
For a moment you considered the snoring body of an unsavory man you had exhausted into submission, lying naked and leaking fluids onto two-thousand-thread-count sheets, and briefly considered calling a cab. Then you went to the bathroom for a towel to wipe him off before curling yourself around him under the covers.
  *****
Morning found you nestling in his soft light brown chest hair, tracing your fingers along the raised red scar that divided a third of his torso like an autopsied cadaver. He flinched a little when you touched it, but remained impassive. A reservoir of sympathy swelled up within you.
“You pity me. That is why you wanted to sleep with me all of a sudden,” he said, deciphering the meaning of your look. “I’m not complaining. Apparently, to be fortunate in bed requires only that one be tragically disfigured. You are drawn to wounded birds.”
The corner of your lip screwed up like you swallowed something bitter. It’s… probably not healthy to desire someone purely out of pity, but he was right. You never felt anything for him until you felt sorry for him. But that wasn’t all there was to your relationship… was it?
“The instinct to nurture and the instinct to hurt are both strong human emotions. They’re primal,” you speculated.
“Trying your hand at psychoanalysis? I would leave it to the professionals, darling.”
“Would you?” You tilted your head innocently. “Then how come you’re still practicing?”
He clutched his chest and feigned being wounded.
Grinning, you buried your face back into his hair. “Arguing with you was always exciting… trying to land a stinging blow. Now I see you hurt, and I feel the need to protect you, too. You tickle my instincts, I suppose. Like cold ice cream on hot pie. What can I say?”
“Hmm, a plausible hypothesis,” he nodded idly at the ceiling, one brow lifted. “I’m not sure that that is any better, but as previously mentioned, your motivations are not of particular interest to me.”
“Charming. Let me phrase it another way, then: You have a very punchable face, but since you’ve already been eviscerated, it takes the fun out of it.”
“Well, and I was going to offer you breakfast…”
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onyourzeus · 3 years
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• beat of my heart | ydw
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: beat of my heart  pairing: yoon dowoon (of day6) & you genre: fluff, non-idol!au, college!au words: 4.3k
author’s note: finally, a dowoon fic that i thoroughly enjoyed writing (hence how long it is) it went on a different track than planned, but isn’t that how most of my fics are turning out to be? lol. please do enjoy!
this dot fic is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: wonpil (currently only have 2/5 completed)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
there isn’t a lot that occupies dowoon’s mind. he gets classified as an introvert by people who have known him for years but this doesn’t mean too much for him
sure, he likes to keep to himself and only open up to people he’s trusted for a while which… is the kind of life he wants to lead
with that being said, other things that goes under Dowoon’s Approved Interests would be: playing the drums, playing a ton of games, and… animals 
upon entering college, he wondered if he’d have the free time to care for animals just like when he was younger, volunteering at the nearest animal shelter in which everyone who worked there knew who he was
and always regarded him as the shy little boy but also borderline an animal whisperer. it gave dowoon lots of fun memories to look back on his childhood, and for a moment he considered studying veterinary science to continue his passion for loving dogs cats and everything in between
but another love of his life was introduced in first year high school, and that is the drums. as his social circle expanded (as much as he permitted it to, so not by a lot), so did his club activities in music and even playing as a filler in different bands became his priority (next to academics) 
he still visited the shelter from time to time, it wasn’t something he could just drop so easily; bonding with stray-turned-angelic pets waiting for their forever family was his form of therapy, in a way, when music got too complicated at times or when he’s struggling with a class
and then there’s playing league or overwatch or pubg to release stress in a more high-energy fashion
so when the time came that he needed to choose a major, the first thing that came into mind was music theory. he wanted to get better at playing drums, understanding notes, and improving his performance skills overall
he’s experienced frustration over figuring out the rhythm for certain songs he liked to play before, so this is what made him decide that music is the type of interest he’d want to pursue as a career
and bonding with animals… well, would be just that. this way, he doesn’t get burnt out with the one hobby he feels much peace with. his happy place, if you will 
so imagine dowoon’s surprise when he learnt of a volunteering organization on campus that caters to helping out local animal shelters on the weekends. literally what he has been doing since he was a wee lad
it was perfect timing to have passed by the club booth during intro week, he already planned on auditioning for the established bands on campus (day6 sounds like a perfect fit for him, tbh) but he hadn’t reached that level of confidence with his drumming skills yet
distracting himself with going to the shelter every so often would help him leave the dorm for a bit (his roommate ha subtly asked many a times for him to ease off of the mouse clicking during the late hours of the night and shouting, “gg” over and over) 
the first few times he went to the org’s events at the shelter, it was… a little awkward
one, he didn’t know anybody and two, he isn’t exactly the cute little shy 10 year old he once was that knew every auntie and uncle in his small town. 
and everyone else in the event… already seems to know each other. dowoon recognizes the guy who handed him a flyer talking to the animal shelter coordinators up in the front. he had been lost in the crowd of his peers that he has no idea what’s going on
he just wants to pet sum dogs and play laser pointers with cats, is that too much to ask for?
suddenly, everyone had dispersed into groups and apparently you choose where you want to be included in
great, dowoon is just smiling awkwardly to himself as he feels the tips of his ears blush bright red
“hi! dowoon, right? do you have a group to join?” he whips his head to the sound of your voice, just a few feet ahead of him. he’s confused as to why you knows his name, so he points to himself and feels the flimsy paper nametag attached by double-sided tape on his shirt
oh, duh. they had the new prospective members do it a while ago 
he sees your name too, and remembers it in the back of his head like a prayer
dowoon shakes his head, perpetually shy and blushing hard now. you feel a sense of guilt singling him out like that in the crowd, so you approach him more closely and signal to follow you
“i’m part of the board members, and we don’t have enough people in our group so you can come join us!” as publicity chair, it is your duty to make others feel comfortable and welcomed in the org. and this is your time to shine
“we’re looking at some bigger doggos today, do you have any pets, dowoon?” you try to make polite introductions as you lead the group to where you’re assigned. like a lost puppy on his own, dowoon follows suit. he’s grateful for some guidance, and actually seeing the animals calm him down for a moment
and it doesn’t feel like everyone’s staring at him anymore as he hears chit-chatting surrounding the place
so he focuses his attention on you instead, and he somewhat regrets it
he’s not those guys who don’t have girl friends, but most of the friendships he’s formed with them are due to the fact that he was introduced by a mutual friend
so dowoon is, how do you say it, entranced by the way you talk about your first big dog in the house 
and the two that followed after, and how you stopped playing with your friends from the neighborhood
because all you needed in life were your golden retrievers and newfoundland
dowoon finds himself sharing his own childhood experiences of spending time at a shelter, but never having a dog of his own
“family allergies,” he shrugs and you pout for him in frustration 
wow, he’s never seen someone so invested by the fact that he never got to own a pet for himself 
“well, dowoon,” you tell him as you’re approaching the section of big dogs, “i hope you enjoy your time here. this is one of the biggest shelters near campus, and fortunately a lot of dogs and cats get adopted every month!” 
your enthusiasm for #adoptdontshop makes dowoon feel excited again, he’s just itching to be back doing what calms him down in a therapeutic sense
you instruct the other members to join in a pair or a trio to assist the shelter coordinators with grooming some of the dogs and going for their scheduled walks
this makes dowoon suddenly panic inwardly again, why does everything have to be done in groups?
“want to come with me?” you ask him in the middle of his inner monologue. you’re met with a look of surprise similar to how he reacted when you called out his name just a few minutes prior
“me? you’re not partnering with anyone else?” you shake your head, “as you can tell, they’ve already made up their minds. you’re one of the only new people i saw come to our event today, so i’ll be glad to show you around!” and you genuinely are. it’s rare to see a newbie look so obviously excited to be here, let alone by themselves
usually the people you’ve come to know who join your events are just there for the instagram stories or a pseudo-date of some sorts. you’re happy they’re helping out the shelter with taking care of the pets even for a few hours in the day, but their intentions lie far and beyond with what you have in mind joining the org
however, having approached dowoon and giving him your usual spiel on your love for dogs— he was actually listening and nodding along to the right moments!!! it was so refreshing, especially with the way he’s just excitedly tapping his feet right now awaiting where you’ll lead him next 
“oh, let’s hang out with lady! she’s actually going to be adopted soon, but i want you to meet her,” you lead dowoon to one of the bigger stalls on the right where lady was. you call out to her, and immediately you see a tail of a fawn colored pitbull sway back and forth
she comes near you first, sniffing and licking at your petting hands. lady senses dowoon standing idly by your side, and you’re about to tell him how to approach the dog when dowoon does it for himself
he bends down to her level, lifts up a loosely closed fist and lets lady smell her first. “hi lady, nice to meet you. my name is dowoon,” he coos at her, finally lady lets him in her space as her tail wags even faster
“that’s amazing,” you point out, “we had a really hard time teaching her to trust new people” 
dowoon shrugs, grinning while he’s at it and you can tell how modest he’s trying to be. but the way he’s rubbing lady’s belly and chuckling at her snorts make you believe that dowoon knows what he’s doing. and he’s enjoying it to the fullest 
“thank you for trusting me, miss lady,” dowoon tells the dog who has completely fallen in love with him too. you just watch him, in awe of the scene before you until dowoon looks your way
he catches you having a weird, goofy smile and so you fake cough your way as an excuse and tuck a hair beneath your ear. “does she need to go for a walk?” he asks you, tone inquisitive and hands busy petting lady much to her delight
“we can, y-yeah,” you find yourself a little out of breath, so out of the ordinary for you. but you comply to his wish and ask the coordinator for lady’s leash and the record book. 
and that’s kinda how you and dowoon started hanging out a lot on the weekends. after that first event you met him, you’re quick to tell him about the incoming ones the org has for the following weeks (albeit some were supposed to be a secret, you couldn’t resist) and that you’ll be really happy if he came
for the pets, of course
dowoon had informed you that he’s trying to join a band on campus, so he might not be at every event you described. although he’ll do his best, for all the other dogs and cats he hasn’t met yet. you become curious about the guy, but not enough confidence to ask about this band or anything other than his love for animals
so for the next few weeks of the semester, whenever you get to lead an event you’re always looking for a shy boy in the crowd. and 80% of the time, dowoon comes through
there are instances when the other board members ask you to proceed with a diff group or a diff task, and before they can sweep dowoon away from your group…
“ah, actually he’s interested in becoming my intern, so i think it’s best to keep him under my wing!”
“we’re doing interns??? now?? i thought we canceled that—”
“he’s just interested, nothing too serious or finalized but yep— ah, dowoon, over here!” 
what a save, and gladly dowoon didn’t hear
he’s actually formed a few acquaintances within the returning members, and it makes you proud to see him come out of his shell a lil
even if you don’t know much about him yet, just his major and the band he’s trying out for (which is looking very good, in his terms) as long as dowoon voluntarily wants to attend the events, it’s a success to you
“who are we meeting today chief?” dowoon would tease you once the event has started, and it’s becoming a running theme in your guys’ greetings
hmm, you decide, major,” is what you’d call him (as you squeal and squirm involuntarily inside) “bathing ole’ mister winston or trying to teach tiny toffee how to sit and stay for more than two seconds?” 
dowoon visibly shudders, remembering the time the english mastiff mister winston slobbered him so much as a form of thanks for keeping him squeaky clean, and you basically laughed at his face for 15 seconds straight
“let’s teach toffee some tricks today,” he relents as you already knew the answer but wanted to see reactions of his flashbacks 
you’re not sure if any one of the board members have noticed your particular liking to dowoon. if they did no one said a word because the whole point of the organization is
to have fun with animals and prepare them well for their furr-ever home, which is what you and dowoon love doing together. there’s a kind of synergy that you feel being with dowoon and working with one dog
dowoon knows more techniques on how to calm down anxious dogs than you’ve ever learned being in the org
you have to admit sometimes you’re still skittish, jumping from loud sounds or yelping in response to mister winston pawing at you (and his paws are bigger than your face) 
or maybe it’s the fact that dowoon is there teasing you instead, intentionally hiding from you when you need a helping hand only to return with a handful of kittens in his embrace. “sorry, they were calling out to me and i couldn’t resist.” 
you’d roll your eyes and attempt to get upset, but the way his own shines and his shy giggle coming out of him when the kittens fight their way to nuzzle against his cheek— it’s harder than you thought
anyway, you tell yourself that you’re keeping dowoon by your side because the two of you learn a lot together, and the back and forth coordination you have with tougher to care for dogs makes the job easier, it’s really that. it really is
or maybe it’s more… because as the weeks go by and dowoon couldn’t come round the shelter on the weekends, he asks if you want to see him practice with the band he’s joined
unfortunately, a lot of the times clash with your events or other school related activities, so dowoon insists on sending you videos of him playing the drums
it was a wild ride of messages, to be honest, because at first the camera would just be showing the ceiling, and then it would be recording his shoes, then just the surface of a drum until the vibrations shake it off of wherever dowoon was putting his phone against
nevertheless, you’d listen to how he plays the instrument he truly loves, and it was another side of him that got you feeling enamored 
the day has come that there was no event at the shelter, and dowoon alongside other day6 members were having a busking session on campus grounds
“i’ll record you this time, dowoon, you don’t have to rely on faulty angles and physics anymore,” you tell him minutes before the gig started. you’ve seen dowoon give off a positive, excited aura in the shelter, but being with his bandmates and sitting in front of his drums— you’re observing a different side of him
and it’s addicting. to watch
“oh, guys by the way, she’s the one i was telling you all about,” you hear dowoon tell his members while you stand on the side. a question mark pops in your head, what does he mean by that???
soon after, everyone introduces themselves to you and shakes your hand. and you’re stunned, having known their names before (courtesy of dowoon) but not really associating a face with it 
“you didn’t tell me your friends are good looking,” you tease dowoon, “you’re hanging out with the right crowd,” you add, poking him on the side to watch his reaction
and you get what you wanted, ears blushing and hands shoving you away playfully 
around you, a crowd has started forming and you notice people from the org watching on the sidelines too
posters fill up the air with names of the members— and even dowoon
huh, why does that hurt a little inside (maybe you should have made a poster too? you glance at dowoon to see him gazing upon the cheers of the crowd and perhaps his name in sharpie, enclosed in hearts by his supporters)
that hurt a little more too
you shake away the weird feeling, and remind yourself that you’re here to record him for the first time, and to listen to him play live
when they finally begun their performance, you became more speechless than you thought. you’ve gone to indie music gatherings before and have watched a couple of up and coming bands do their thing
but day6 is something else— and most especially, you know the drummer
the ones those girls behind you are screaming your ear off for 
he’s a god with the drums, eyes closed in parts that require careful and soft beats but you see the fiery look in them once the song comes up to its peak 
it was thrilling, it was a sight to behold. dowoon in his other element, another side of dowoon you’d love to get to know more of
you resist from screaming his name so that your recording doesn’t sound ugly (you’re sending it to him after all), but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t beating as loud as the rhythm of his drums 
a few times during the performance, you catch him looking at your direction, but you’re not sure so you just raise a thumbs up with one hand while the other holding your phone feels strained as they go on
it’s ok, it’s all for dowoon
an hour later, their set ended with a bang and girls and guys alike flock to the members to get a poster signed or something else of theirs (dowoon had already given you a pre-signed poster. friendship benefits?) 
you didn’t want to leave without congratulating him for a very successful first gig, so you sit by the benches. a little farther away from the platform where they performed to give yourself fresh air, and understand why your heart continues to pound so hard and so fast
and the cheers for dowoon’s name playing back in your mind
it’s the after show adrenaline, you tell yourself, rewinding the footage you recorded to pass the time
your mistake since it was all just dowoon
there were times when you “accidentally” zoomed it in his face, and kept it there. for minutes on end
god why does he smile like that, stop you’re hurting my HEART
“someone’s a fan,” a low, litling voice creeps up behind you
and your first instinct is to punch the invader of your personal space
which you did (albeit not as strongly as you wanted) but when realizing who received said punch…
“dowoon holy shit WHY WOULD YOU GO BEHIND ME LIKE THAT” 
“I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR REACTION WOULD BE SO VIOLENT”
so uh, there you suddenly are
in the college’s nurse office
with the drummer of what seems to be a rising band on campus, dowoon
getting his bloody nose (literally) checked out, and asking him serious questions without you in the room
“did she really think i’d punch you like that???”
“i think it was really nice of her to look out for me, you know,” dowoon smirked, and the two of you had already come out of the office and you were ready to actually punch him for real this time
but you decline your desires because you still feel a bit guilty 
a part of you knew it was dowoon, the voice was a dead giveaway, but you’re “logical reasoning” says you didn’t want him, nor anyone, to see you admiring his face on video. playing it on loop 
“i’m sorry,” you finally say, cringing at the turn of events tonight “can you still make it to the band’s after dinner party? can you still eat with your nose like that?”
“you’re so weird,” dowoon replies, pinching the bridge of his nose as he elicits a short “ow” of pain, and you can’t help but feel so terrible
“ughhhhhh dowoon pls say i didn’t break your nose or else your fangirls will hate me”
“what” 
“you heard me don’t make me say it again”
“say what again :)” at this point he’s just messing with you, his nose doesn’t look crooked anyway and he definitely knows there were girls fawning over him!!
“c’mon, i’ll pay for the uber to take you to the restaurant,” you urge, it’s the least you can do for physically hurting the person who seems to be confusing you what draws the line between being a friend and… potentially liking them more than that 
dowoon doesn’t respond, just shakes his head no and walks alongside you
“what do you mean no???” you’re baffled, why would he decline such a good offer?? 
“no i’m not going to the dinner, it’s fine i get to see them every day,” he reasons out. he stretches his arms and evokes a yawn. “besides i’m pretty beat from the gig, so i’m just gonna crash back at the dorm”
you’re not convinced, what if he’s just pretending to be sleepy so he doesn’t bother you anymore? biting your lip, you contemplate on persuading him to go but buying his dinner (you’re not sure how that will work) until he stops in his tracks and
pinches your cheeks
to stop you from thinking as your eyes land on his
dowoon huffs, eyebrows creased with concern as he says, “you look like one of the dogs we fed last week who wanted more food in his bowl, but he doesn’t know he’s on a diet.” 
he.. really compared u… to a dog???? 
“what do you mean by that,” you counter, cheeks heating up from the sensation of his fingers pinching at them. not too painful, but enough to consciously feel the pressure of his touch on your face
not to mention his focus is all on you
“you’re upset because i won’t give in to your apology gift,” he explains further. “but really, i’m fine. you didn’t break any bones, and you aimed for my nose. if it were my hands that got hurt then it’ll be a different story”
you groan outwardly, not knowing how to best him out of his logic
“c’mon the bus is coming soon, let’s call it a night,” he says, releasing your cheeks from his grasp and instead, tugging at your hand to follow his lead this time
you don’t let it go
once you enter the bus, dowoon finds an empty two seater and slides right in by the window seat, patting the one next to him. you reluctantly take the spot, still reeling from the way he held your hand so effortlessly, still confused about how you feel about him, still wanting to make it up to him
“is there an event tomorrow?” dowoon asks, escaping you out of your reverie. you churn your brain to think as this is a good opportunity to divert your attention somewhere else
“i believe so. i’m not leading the event, but it’s basically adoption day at the shelter. did you want to come?”
“of course, if you are”
“oh,” that caught you off guard… he can always come to events even if you aren’t, he’s a member now and he’s good friends with the other board members…
“if you’re not, then are you busy doing something?” he yawns again, eyes becoming droopier by the minute as the bus takes it leave
“not really… we can go… together,” you attempt to string coherent sentences together, but the sight of dowoon dozing off at the electric hum while the bus moves entrances you
his pale soft skin contrasts the tiredness in his voice, trying to keep himself away by answering you
“mm. yeah, i’d like to go with you...anywhere… with you,” he starts mumbling, head dangerously close to colliding against the window
silently, you chuckle. and admire the hardworking effort you’ve seen dowoon achieve so far, it makes you momentarily forget about figuring out your feelings
cause it’s kinda obvious with the way you’re seeing him right now, usually you’d tease him, take a picture for blackmail or even feel slightly awkward sitting in the bus next to each other
but right now, you admire him. and wish you can talk to him more about the band, about his dreams, about going to events “as long as it’s with you”
you hear him continuously mumble string of phrases that are incomprehensible at this point, and instead of making fun of the guy (you’ve done enough damage to his nose), you gently tell him, “sleep, dowoon. i’ll wake you up when your stop is here.”
“mmkay,” he gives in, breathes out heavily and
leans against you
resting his head on your shoulder, even making himself more comfy by nuzzling his cheek by the junction of your neck
in a way it sets your heart aflame
but on the outside, you feel at ease. that he can easily take the hit with his nose just mere moments ago and willingly let his head, and his mind rest for a little right by your side
you don’t have to wonder about your feelings anymore
you’d want this to happen more in the future, and hopefully
you’re just wishing upon a star here, that dowoon feels the same
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anotherkpopvictim · 3 years
Text
Into a New World (Through the Gate) - BTS OT7 Fantasy Story Chapter 6
A/N: Hello! I'm back after three months! I took some time to write a bit ahead so I would have enough to post today and on Namjoon's birthday.
So Happy Birthday to our maknae Jungkookie! Enjoy <3
Updated Timeline in case you get confused -
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LVJ9t7XMDjiMNU1AU4wGVs65x_fh-WxzbBYKTtGylkU/edit?usp=sharing
Relationship: BTS X BTS
Rating: T
Words: 4528
Hurt/comfort, fluff, fantasy
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Chapter 6: A New Hope
Worldbuilding Notes on Familiars: Familiars are a witch’s companion and can be any animal, though most commonly they are dogs, cats, birds or snakes. When a human reaches the point where they become a witch, an animal (usually on the streets or occasionally in the wild) will begin to feel a pull towards the witch. They usually find each other fairly quickly and physical contact finishes the transition from animal to familiar. These familiars become more physically and mentally powerful, and can heal more quickly than a regular animal. Just like a witch will keep themselves young, they will also keep their familiars young as well.
The feeling of a bond between a witch and their familiar is similar to the feeling of a pack bond but not quite the same. If a familiar dies, the witch will experience intense pain for a few weeks, but they will ultimately survive. On the other hand, if a witch passes away, their familiar will unfortunately die along with them.
------------------
September 9, 3501, Present Day
“Please, hyung! Please, please, please, please, please!”
“No.”
Jungkook whined and stomped his feet petulantly as he pulled at the older vampire’s jacket sleeve. “That’s not fair, hyung! I’ve been good, I want to go into the city again!”
Yoongi sighed and reached over to ruffle the younger one’s hair apologetically after he finished buttoning his black coat. “You have been, baby. You’ve worked so hard on keeping your bloodthirst under control and I’m so proud of you,” he praised. “But, Taehyung and I are going into town to meet a new person and I don’t want anyone going that doesn’t absolutely have to.”
After Namjoon and Yoongi had spoken the night before, it was decided that Yoongi would be the one to go with Taehyung to meet this Minho guy. Jungkook hadn’t been happy when he learned that he wasn’t allowed to go with them. He’d been dying to get out of the house since he’d been cooped up nearly seven years ago. Most fledglings only needed to stay with their sires for five years, and yet, here he was, still locked up.
Jungkook pouted and crossed his arms now. “There’s always an excuse.”
Yoongi looked up from where he was adjusting his gold watch. “What?”
The younger vampire huffed out an annoyed and disheartened breath. “Whenever I ask to go into town with you, you always have some excuse as to why I can’t. You say that I’m doing well with keeping my bloodthirst under control, but you still won’t let me see other people again.”
Taehyung came over from where he’d slipped on his shoes and wrapped an arm around Jungkook’s waist, giving a comforting squeeze. “Kook-ah, you know that your bloodthirst was much different from other fledglings. Hyungs just want to make sure that you aren’t a danger to yourself or anyone else.”
“Think of it this way, Jungkookie,” Yoongi reasoned, his tone soft with guilt now that he knew his baby was unhappy. “We don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but this will undoubtedly be the longest you’ve been away from me before. Namjoon will still be around, but this is another step towards going out like you want.”
“I guess,” Jungkook replied, though his shoulders slouched dejectedly. He slipped out of Taehyung’s grasp and started walking out of the foyer with dragging feet. “Bye, hyungs.”
The older vampire and the witch watched him go, one with guilt in his eyes and the other with a knowing look. Taehyung ushered the two of them out the door quickly and to the vehicle waiting outside that he had pulled out of the garage earlier. Eunji was resting in the back seat, idly grooming her paws.
After they typed in the park address and were out on the long stretch of road from their remote abode to the outskirts of the city, Yoongi found himself thankful that Taehyung had decided to drive today, because his mind was currently occupied. He was nibbling at his lower lip anxiously and thinking about how upset Jungkook had been. The younger vampire’s dejected expression etched into his brain.
“Do you...do you think I’m being too careful with him?” Yoongi blurted out, breaking the quiet ambience of the soft music playing from the car speakers.
Taehyung took it in stride, as he always did. He’d always been the most intuitive out of all of them and often knew the others needed to talk well before they themselves did. “Well, since I’m not a vampire, I don’t have the knowledge or experience or feelings that you two do about all of this. I honestly think that only you and Jungkook can decide that.”
“I’m his sire, I’m supposed to protect him, but I’m also supposed to help him grow and acclimate to society.” Yoongi shook his head, “I thought I knew what to do from what I’ve been taught and told, but it’s different when it’s your own fledgling. I don’t want anything to happen.”
“You have the best intentions, hyung, and Jungkook knows that,” Taehyung replied. “But I’m sure that not being able to go anywhere except your own house and see no one but your family can get suffocating after a while.”
“So you think that I should let him have more freedom? Bring him to the city?”
“Not necessarily such big steps,” Taehyung corrected. “Perhaps allowing a human friend to come over and visit and see how he does. Then, maybe you could take him to the outskirts of town where there’s not as many people as in the city.”
“Yeah...yeah, okay,” Yoongi began nodding, hopeful, though still cautious. “That could work. I don’t want to overestimate his control, but I also don’t want to underestimate it. I think your ideas would be great to try, Taehyung-ah.”
The witch couldn’t help but smirk, “Aren’t they always?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes as he snorted before gently slapping his boyfriend’s arm. Then, the vampire changed the subject of their conversation. “So, what do we know about this ‘Minho’ guy?”
“His name is Choi Minho and he’s 173 years old,” Taehyung listed off. “Baekhyun referred me to him as he claimed to have once been helped by the Dragon.”
“The Dragon?” Yoongi frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard the name before. “Isn’t that a witch of legend?”
Taehyung hummed in confirmation. They had reached the outskirts of Seoul now, where they passed some farmland. “I’m sceptical as well. On the phone with Minho, I asked him if he was serious about it and he said he was. He was hesitant to talk to me at first, but once I explained the situation with Hoseok-ssi, he agreed to meet us at Riverbend Park to speak in person.”
“At least he wants to meet in a public place,” Yoongi remarked, feeling uneasy about someone with such an outlandish claim. “It’s a good thing you brought Eunji with us, just in case this goes sour and we need backup.” From the backseat, Eunji let out a pleased rumble and leaned forward enough so the vampire could run his fingers through the fur on top of her head. “Not to mention that she’s amazing at reading people. She’ll probably know this guy’s true intentions long before we will.”
“I’m hoping for the best,” Taehyung said, “But if this doesn’t work out, I don’t know if we’ll be able to save Hoseok before his magic energy disappears completely.”
---------------------
Hoseok could feel the effects of Taehyung’s last energy potion wearing off already, and it had barely been four hours since he’d taken it. It appeared that the more he drank it, the less effective it became. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others either. They all wore varying expressions of worry on their faces as they came in and out of the room intermittently.
As he’d lost the ability to move, Seokjin had cooked up a simple soup for him, which Jimin was currently attempting to force down the orange fairy’s throat. Jimin eagerly claimed the position of Hoseok’s entertainment for the day, which was mostly just talking about anything and everything. Eventually, though, the conversation inevitably veered in the direction of Aurora.
Jimin had sparkles in his eyes when he spoke about the beauty of the Fairy Kingdom, of the vibrant colors of the plants and the vastness of the forests. He explained that Earth was one of the most developed worlds (naturally, as it was the center) and that large forests like back in Aurora did exist, though not as many, and certainly not as filled with life as the Fairy Kingdom.
“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok began as he swallowed the last bit of soup, “Can...can I ask why you live here instead of Aurora?”
The pink fairy froze for a moment before setting the empty bowl on the bedside table and looking back at Hoseok with a solemn smile on his face. “Of course you can. Fairies don’t often leave Aurora, so I imagine you’re curious about me.”
“Well, yes, that,” Hoseok replied, “But I also just want to know about you as a person. If you don’t want to tell me anything, that’s fine too.”
Jimin smiled more genuinely at that, then he crossed his arms on the edge of the bed and leaned his chin on them. “I lived in Aurora until I was twenty-six. Then...then, I was banished.”
“What?” the orange fairy was shocked. Jimin frankly didn’t seem capable of doing anything that would get him banished from his homeland. Then again, his own brother had banished Hoseok for an unfathomable reason. “Twenty-six...so that was many decades ago. My father exiled you? What for?”
“Honestly…” Jimin bit his lip, apprehensive, but looked the older man directly in the eye so he knew he was telling the truth. “Nothing.”
Hoseok blinked before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “Nothing?”
“I lived in Rosewood,” the pink fairy explained. Hoseok knew that Rosewood was closer to the edge of the Fairy Kingdom, almost as far as one could get from the royal palace. “There was a string of robberies in the community at that time. I happened to walk by the crime scene the morning after one had taken place at a jewelry shop and I was immediately pinned as the perpetrator by the owner. He never liked me, and I suppose he saw a chance to get rid of me and took it. I thought I would be released quickly once they realized that there was quite literally no motive or evidence that I did anything, but…I was banished by the king.”
Hoseok was honestly shocked and it took his mind probably too long to really understand what Jimin was insinuating, perhaps because his body was exhausted. “Jimin...I…”
The younger man smiled softly, still a bit solemn. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“But I do,” Hoseok rebutted. “My father exiled you from your homeland without probable evidence and that...I’m so sorry, Jimin-ah.”
“It isn’t your fault,” Jimin replied. “But thank you.”
Hoseok felt a little bit overwhelmed by what Jimin had told him. Before his brother was the king, Hoseok’s father, Jaeseok, ruled the Fairy Kingdom for over a century. Compared to his brother’s reckless, heated antics, Hoseok thought that his father had been a rather fit king. After hearing Jimin’s words, however, he questioned whether he really knew enough about what went on during King Jaeseok’s reign. Hoseok felt choked up with second-hand guilt.
“In the end, I suppose it was fate,” Jimin continued, eyes alight and sparkling once more. “If I hadn’t been forced out of Aurora, I would never have met Yoongi, or any of my other packmates.”
That’s right, even though Jimin had been wrongfully banished, it allowed him the opportunity to meet the others. So at least there was a silver lining there.
The orange fairy felt like he could breathe easier again. “I guess we’re in the same boat, huh? Wrongfully exiled but managed to meet our packmates-” Hoseok tried to cut himself off once he realized what he was saying, but it was too late. He looked at the other fairy with wide eyes.
Jimin’s eyebrows were raised in surprise. “You found your packmates? But you’ve only…” Then his eyes widened in understanding. “Wait...we’re your packmates?”
Hoseok winced but nodded sheepishly. “I’d definitely felt a pull towards all of you, but it was Namjoon and Seokjin-hyung that told me.”
“Of course the Ties knew,” Jimin said, a slight furrow to his brow. “But why didn’t they tell the rest of us then?”
“I think…” the older man wracked his brain for the right words. “I think they wanted to wait and see if I could even be healed before telling you guys. So it wouldn’t be as painful if I…” he trailed off.
Jimin stood up from the chair with a desperate, worried expression. The pink fairy leaned over Hoseok and threw his arms around his neck, holding him in a tight, comforting embrace. Hoseok used what little energy he had to wrap an arm around the other’s back and hug him. “I won’t...I won’t let you die. Whether you were our packmate or not, it would have been the same. I won’t let you die.”
A feeling of pure adoration and love came over Hoseok, making him smile weakly. If he didn’t already know that he was meant to be with these six men, he would have to know now with all the butterflies that seemed to swarm his stomach when they were around.
Hoseok’s eyes shot open the second he felt something soft and warm against his cheek, only to see Jimin leaning back away from his face. The pink fairy had given him a gentle kiss to the apple of his left cheek, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake.
“We’ll figure this out, Hoseok-ah,” the younger man said determinedly.
The orange fairy didn’t have anything to reply with, and not much energy anyway, but he could only hope that Jimin was right.
-------------------------
The park was quiet because of the clouds covering the expanse of sky above them, but there were still some people milling about. The humans that passed by Taehyung and Yoongi gawked at the rather large wolf accompanying them, and even the other supernatural creatures did double-takes. A wolf was a rather uncommon species for a familiar, as they were usually pet animals like dogs, cats, rabbits, or birds. Though the species of a witch’s familiar didn’t reflect the amount of power they held, it was still rather jarring for anyone to see a wild animal in the center of the city.
Eunji wasn’t the only wild familiar around today, apparently, because as Taehyung and Yoongi spotted a man standing where they were to meet Minho, they could clearly see a large black bear by his side. As they approached, the large animal gave them a suspicious glance and made a huffing noise before going back to eating berries off of the rather long branch it had cradled in its arms.
“Minho-ssi?” Taehyung questioned as they reached the picnic table.
The man turned at his voice and smiled with a gentle nod. He was tall with short black hair and a kind smile. He was dressed in simple jeans and a long-sleeved blue button-up. “Taehyung-ssi, I presume.”
The witch returned the nod as the two of them took a seat on the other side of the picnic table, Eunji settling down next to Taehyung and eyeing the black bear across from her curiously. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Minho-ssi.”
“That’s not a problem,” the other witch replied.
“This is Yoongi-hyung, he’s one of my packmates,” Taehyung explained. The two nodded their greetings before Taehyung cut to the chase. “So...Baekhyun-hyung said that you really had an encounter with the Dragon?”
Minho’s friendly expression turned a bit apprehensive then. “Why exactly do you want to know? You mentioned something about an injured friend?”
“Yes, a new...acquaintance of ours is losing his magic energy,” Taehyung replied. “We aren’t quite sure what caused it, but it doesn’t really matter when every witch I’ve contacted insists that it can’t be treated.”
Minho looked thoughtful. “Hm, that’s very strange. Uncommon, too. So, you’re seeking out help for this friend?”
Taehyung nodded, “Yes. I haven’t had any luck so far, though. That’s why when Baekhyun-hyung told me that you claimed to have an encounter with the Dragon - as far-fetched as it sounded - I had to follow up with you.”
The older witch locked Taehyung in an intense gaze, like he was analyzing him. After a good minute of silence, Minho let out an exhale and dropped the intensity of his gaze. “I have met him - the Dragon. It’s true.”
“Baekhyun mentioned that he saved your familiar from the brink of death?”
“He did,” Minho confirmed, turning to run his hands through the black bear’s thick fur. “He saved my Hwayoung. It was a few decades ago now. I was in Russia, hunting down a demon that had been terrorizing a few of the villages there. The demon...managed to trap Hwayoung in a ring of hellfire.”
The demon must have been powerful, then, as Taehyung knew that only the oldest demons were able to produce a ring of hellfire. Hellfire was magical in nature, and therefore couldn’t be put out in any natural manner. Not even witches had a spell or potion that could put it out. The fire only disappeared if the demon was slain, which was no easy task if it was powerful enough to create a ring of hellfire.
Taehyung felt himself automatically reach over to Eunji and run a hand over her back, confirming her presence. He could imagine how terrifying it was for Minho when his familiar was in such a position.
“By the time I killed him, Hwayoung was…” Minho paused and blinked back the surfacing tears. “All of her fur had been burnt off, and her skin was charred. She had the faintest heartbeat I’d ever heard and I felt such sick dread. I did what I could to keep her alive, but she didn’t improve even over many weeks.”
Taehyung’s heart clenched painfully in empathy. A witch’s familiar was an unimaginably important being in their lives, just as much as their packmates, but in a different way. He’s not sure how he would handle the grievance of losing Eunji if it ever happened. She meant a lot to him.
“I found myself wandering the country, just waiting for a miracle to happen really. And then it did,” Minho continued. “I made acquaintance with a much older witch, who told me about a place those who were desperate could go to pray. I didn’t really necessarily believe in any god or higher power, but I was willing to try anything at that point.” It was then that Minho paused in his words and looked at Taehyung and Yoongi with a serious expression. "The woman told me that I should keep the place a secret because if the location were to become known to someone with ill intentions, it would disappear forever."
“That’s why I couldn’t find anything about it,” Taehyung realized. “Anyone who does know is hesitant to talk.”
The older witch nodded with a smile. “I went to this place she spoke of, and I prayed for help. And then...the Dragon appeared. Just...out of nowhere. I was shocked, but I told him of my Hwayoung’s condition and he agreed to heal her if I brought her there. When I did, I watched him heal her like it was nothing. It was the most powerful display of magic that I’d ever seen before.”
Both Taehyung and Yoongi were surprised at the story, but not as unbelieving as they had been before. Minho appeared honest and genuine in his retelling, and in Taehyung’s mind, if Baekhyun trusted him, then he really didn’t have a reason not to trust him as well.
“That’s...incredible,” Yoongi managed out in awe.
“Do you…” Taehyung bit his lip. “Do you trust us enough to tell us where this place is? It seems like it’s the only chance for Hoseok-ssi to be healed.”
Minho took a minute to carefully look over both of them before he nodded. “I trust you. I will tell you the location, but I trust that you will keep it secret and not abuse it.”
Taehyung let out a long breath, some of the tension that had built up over the last few days easing away. “Thank you, Minho-ssi. You have no idea how much this means.”
The older witch’s smile turned into a teasing one. “Are you sure that this Hoseok-ssi is only a friend? The way you talk about him certainly makes him seem like more.”
“Maybe he will be,” Taehyung replied honestly. “But right now he is only a friend.”
Minho nodded. “Well, Baekhyun told me that you live near the Mysterious Forest, correct?”
Yoongi and Taehyung shared a confused look with each other but nodded in confirmation.
“If you wish to meet the Dragon, there is a waterfall deep within the woods of the Mysterious Forest where you can pray. I believe the place is an extension of himself, and if he believes your intentions, he will show himself to you.”
“The Mysterious Forest?” Yoongi exclaimed, his utter shock only barely held back. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious,” Minho replied earnestly. “Even though it is quite near to you, the waterfall is hidden very deep in the woods. He may ask you for something in return for his help. He asked me to eradicate a group of feral trolls over in Egypt.”
“We’ll do whatever he needs! Wow! I…” Taehyung struggled for the right words. “Thank you! Thank you, Minho-ssi. Thank you for trusting us with this information. Hoseok-ssi will be very happy to hear it, just like the rest of my packmates will be.”
Minho gave a mysterious sort of smile then, “Speaking of packmates, does one of them happen to be a young vampire?”
Yoongi straightened immediately, on alert. “Yes, why?”
The older witch huffed out a laugh and pointed behind Taehyung and Yoongi. The two of them quickly turned around and instantly spotted the familiar head of dark hair peeking out from behind a tree across the clearing in the park.
“Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi called sternly, his resounding voice momentarily startling a human couple walking nearby. “Come over here!”
Demurely, Jungkook revealed himself and shuffled across the grass towards them, refusing to meet any of their eyes the entire way. He stopped next to Eunji and gave her a head rub in greeting. “H-Hi, hyungs.”
“Jeon Jungkook, what do you think you’re doing?” Yoongi chastised. “You know how dangerous it is for you to be out alone.”
Though the younger vampire obviously still felt bad for disobeying his sire, he stood firm and crossed his arms over his chest. A serious frown twisted his lips and made a furrow between his eyebrows. “Yet I didn’t kill anyone. No one’s been hurt and I feel completely in control.”
Yoongi sighed harshly through his nose, “How long have you been here?”
“The entire time,” Minho supplied. “He arrived with you but since he was hiding I assumed he was back up or something. Once I saw how terrible a job he was doing at hiding, I realized you might not have realized he was here.”
Jungkook’s frown turned into a prominent pout. “Was my hiding that bad? I thought I was being pretty sneaky.”
“Maybe you weren’t too bad,” Minho clarified with a gentle smile towards the young vampire. “But when you work as a hunter, you become more aware of your surroundings all the time. Work on using your other senses to eavesdrop so you don’t expose yourself by peeking around trees so much.”
“You really feel completely in control right now, Kook-ah?” Yoongi asked.
Jungkook nodded, “I was going to turn back and head home the second I felt any bloodlust but I never did.”
“That’s rather impressive, Kookie.” Taehyung complimented. “I’m proud of you.”
While Jungkook blushed and grinned at the praise, Yoongi narrowed his eyes in Taehyung’s direction. “You knew he was there the whole time, didn’t you?”
Taehyung shook his head in denial, “No, I didn’t know. Though I had an inkling he might follow us this morning.”
Yoongi turned back to Jungkook with a sigh but a softer look in his eyes. “Even though what you did was risky, I’m proud of you too, Kook. I’m sorry that I underestimated you.”
“I forgive you,” the younger vampire replied. “I know you’re just being overprotective. I remember when I was a human, we would call people like you a helicopter parent.”
“Yah!” Yoongi exclaimed, his normally pretty calm expression twisting up in disgust. “You’re my boyfriend, please don’t refer to me as your parent!”
Jungkook’s smile became mischievous and he rebutted, “You always seem to like it when I call you Daddy, though.”
Minho broke down in full on laughter across the table and Taehyung giggled along, highkey proud of Jungkook’s confident teasing. Yoongi, on the other hand, sputtered out incomprehensively and blushed a color that obviously contrasted the rest of his pale skin.
Along with the good news of a real possibility of healing Hoseok, the moment lightened the atmosphere that had been so cautious to begin with. Taehyung looked at Hwayoung now sharing her branch of berries with Eunji and the smug smirk on Jungkook’s face, and he felt like maybe - just maybe - everything was going to be okay.
------------------------
The sound of the book falling out of his hand and hitting the desk is what startles Namjoon back awake. He realized that he had been falling asleep while reading as he’d had a difficult time sleeping the night before. He was overwhelmed with anxiety as he pondered Hoseok’s - his packmate’s - fate.
The shapeshifter sighed and dropped the book onto the table after he bookmarked it. He stood up from the chair in the library and stretched out his arms and legs. On his way to the kitchen to get some water to quench his thirst, Namjoon stopped by Jungkook’s room. The door muffled the sounds coming from inside, but it was clearly some kind of war video game the young vampire was playing.
Namjoon didn’t bother knocking on the door and simply opened it, though he did so cautiously as he knew that Jungkook was still bummed from earlier that morning. “Hey, Kook-ah, have you eaten anyth-”
No one was inside. Namjoon took in the empty chair Jungkook always sat in when he played video games in his room, the television playing the start menu - accompanied by sound effects and gunfire like in the game - over and over again, and finally looked at the curtains blowing gently in the wind that came in through the fully opened window.
Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he realized what had most likely happened. “Jeon Jungkook, you are in trouble!”
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A/N: Comments and kudos really help me to stay motivated to write, so leave one if you enjoyed the chapter. See you on Joon's birthday with the next chapter!
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Meet the Muse +4
// Multimuse = Long Post, separated by Pics, the four under the cut so it’s not too long for people scrolling ^^; but tagged by the lovely @oflockhearted !! Thank you, dear, this is fun, I hope this entertains! XD Sephiroth first, then Reno, then Vincent, then Kadaj //
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► Name ➔  Sephiroth. 
► Are you single ➔  Of course.
► Are you happy ➔  *laughs*
► Are you angry? ➔ I prefer passionate.
► Are your parents still married ➔  Funny.
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔  If the sealed reports are to be believed...Nibelheim. Why does that matter?
► Hair Color ➔  Silver.
► Eye Color ➔  Icy emerald.
► Birthday ➔  And just why is that important?     // IE Mun can’t find it, if it’s even mentioned anywhere lmao //
► Mood ➔  Determined.
► Sex ➔  Waste of time, generally.
► Summer or winter ➔  Winter, I suppose.
► Morning or afternoon ➔  Morning.
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔ No. What’s the point in it?
► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔  No. Love is enough of a waste, and love at first sight is pitiful childs’ fairy tale to make them believe there’s endless good waiting for them.
► Who ended your last relationship ➔ Never had one.
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  Many times, I’m sure.
► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ ---
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔  ---
► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔  Yes. I believe they called themselves the Silver Elite.
► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  ...
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔ Neither.
► Lemonade or iced tea ➔  Neither.
► Cats or Dogs ➔   Cats.
► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔  ..Once I might have said a few. But neither.
► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔  Neither.
► Day or night ➔  Night.
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔  Once. I learned.
► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔  No, despite people trying.
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔  ..No.   // oh please, mama’s boy //
► Wanted to disappear ➔  ---
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔  Eyes--they’re clearer to read.
► Shorter or Taller ➔  Hmm... Shorter.   // he could’ve pretended to not understand the question, and yet...//
► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  Intelligence.
► Hook-up or Relationship ➔  No.
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔  ---
► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔  I’d say that’s an understatement. 
► Have you ever ran away from home ➔  You have to have a home, to run away from it, correct?
► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ ---
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔   You have to have friends, to hate them. But no, I’d never hate them secretly. They would know.
► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔  ---
► Who is your best friend ➔ ---
► Who knows everything about you ➔  No one.    // jesus that’s a damn depressing ending //
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► Name ➔  Codename = Reno 
► Are you single ➔  Yeah, can’t really be tied down with this thrill of a life, now can I?
► Are you happy ➔  Sure, plenty.
► Are you angry? ➔  Only when dumbasses test my patience.
► Are your parents still married ➔  Why is that your business?
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔   Nosy little runt, aren’t you?
► Hair Color ➔  Sexiest red you’ll ever see.
► Eye Color ➔  Green.
► Birthday ➔  ---   // still don’t know fnajflakfa //
► Mood ➔  Feisty~
► Sex ➔  Fuck yeah.
► Summer or winter ➔  Summer. The lower dip, the better, I like a free chest.
► Morning or afternoon ➔  Afternoon, best energy there.
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔   Does being in love for the night count?  *wiggles eyebrows*
► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔  Nah, not really.
► Who ended your last relationship ➔   Me, of course. Business before pleasure~.
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  Probably *shrugs* But I’m sure they enjoyed the ride.
► Are you afraid of commitments ➔  No way--not if it’s worth while.
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔  Hugged, no. Tackled? Let me count, there was Elena, that ass from the street, Rude when when he threatened my ponytail with scissors,   *counting on fingers, continues on mumbling*
► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔  Hell yeah, probably  // have you though //
► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  Hell no... Only one that’s gonna treat me right is me.
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔  Hmm, lust. More fun, less bullshit.
► Lemonade or iced tea ➔  Lemonade, I guess. Is it spiked?
► Cats or Dogs ➔   Why not both? Lamo.
► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔  A few--easier to trust, know they got your back.
► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔  Catch me running the streets shirtless before you catch me cuddling up at home, man.   // unless you find the right person to catch you smitten tho //
► Day or night ➔  Eh, guess it depends on what I’m doing. Day, better for work with clear skies. Night, better mood for some fun. Or espionage. 
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔  Not yet~   *winks*    // yes he has //
► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔  No, what kind of question is that?! Did Elena say something?!!
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔  Not that I can remember...
► Wanted to disappear ➔  Nope!
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔  I dunno, both are okay? Smiles can be nice but they can be smug too. Eyes are...eyes?
► Shorter or Taller ➔  How about both?
► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Eh, both have their merits.
► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook up--for those who think they can handle me.
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔  Sure.
► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔  My life made me who I am  *shrugs* 
► Have you ever ran away from home ➔  Plenty.
► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Oooh yeah~
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ Maybe  *shrugs*
► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔  Partners in crime, sometimes literally.
► Who is your best friend ➔ If you really have to ask, move along.  // Boi in the Shades, of course //
► Who knows everything about you ➔  No one, really, but I guess one or two people know enough.
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► Name ➔  Vincent Valentine
► Are you single ➔  Yes.
► Are you happy ➔  I suppose I am, moreso now.
► Are you angry? ➔ No.
► Are your parents still married ➔  My parents are...no longer living.
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔   Kalm   // fanon, sry //
► Hair Color ➔  Black
► Eye Color ➔  Crimson red--runs in the Valentine family.
► Birthday ➔  October 13th, 1950
► Mood ➔  Calm, I suppose.
► Sex ➔  Why is this a question..?
► Summer or winter ➔  Winter.
► Morning or afternoon ➔  Afternoon.
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔  No... Not anymore.
► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔  No. People likely believe they experience it, but it’s never true--be smart. Get to know the person, not what you imagine of them.
► Who ended your last relationship ➔   *sighs*  Never exactly had one, and I’m really not understanding the need for these kinds of questions...
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  A few...yes.
► Are you afraid of commitments ➔  Never was before. Failure crippled me for a time, but not anymore.
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔  Do I look like a hugger?   // he gets hugged, but his arms are usually crossed as an excuse not to hug back //
► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔  Doubtful.
► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  Yes.
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔  Love, I suppose.
► Lemonade or iced tea ➔  Never drink much of either.
► Cats or Dogs ➔   Cats, I suppose. No real problem with dogs, though.
► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔  A few. Not the social type, but...it’s good to have those you can trust around you.
► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔   I’d rather stick to a private night alone.
► Day or night ➔  Night.
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔  No.
► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔  ?
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔   A long time ago.
► Wanted to disappear ➔   Many times.
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔  Is this a general question? Or romantic/sexual?
► Shorter or Taller ➔  Do people really get picky about height...?
► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Really...
► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ I imagine a relationship would be more worthwhile, if you can find a right person.
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔  We did, mostly. My father and I didn’t have the best relationship...but we knew we loved one another.
► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔  I’d said that’s an understatement. 
► Have you ever ran away from home ➔  Not literally, no.
► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No.
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔   They can give me a headache some times, but no, I don’t hate them.
► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔   Yes. After what we went through, over and over, it’s hard not to accept that.
► Who is your best friend ➔  I don’t...have a best? Who do I understand the best? Cloud, I suppose.
► Who knows everything about you ➔  I’ve yet to allow anyone to, but letting some know parts, little by little.
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► Name ➔  Kadaj.
► Are you single ➔  Yes.
► Are you happy ➔  No.
► Are you angry? ➔  Unsatisfied and angry, would describe me these days.
► Are your parents still married ➔  ---
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔   I don’t have one.
► Hair Color ➔  Silver.
► Eye Color ➔  Emerald green.
► Birthday ➔  Don’t have one, once again...
► Mood ➔  Impatient.
► Sex ➔  ?
► Summer or winter ➔  Winter.
► Morning or afternoon ➔  Morning.
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔   Ha! 
► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔  Nonsense.
► Who ended your last relationship ➔ ---
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  ---
► Are you afraid of commitments ➔  I’m not afraid of anything. I’m committed to my mission.
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔  ---
► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔  Who cares?
► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  ...
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔  Useless.
► Lemonade or iced tea ➔  ---
► Cats or Dogs ➔   ---
► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔  I don’t have friends. I have pawns, and I have enemies.
► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔   Waste.
► Day or night ➔  Day.
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔  Useless question.
► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔  No.
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔   Yes...and I intend to find it...
► Wanted to disappear ➔  ...What kind of question is that..?
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔  Who cares.
► Shorter or Taller ➔  Again, who cares.
► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Intelligence, what use are you without a competent mind?
► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Who. Cares.
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔  ---
► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔  Depends on if you believe I have a life.
► Have you ever ran away from home ➔  Don’t have a home to run away from.
► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ ---
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ I openly hate my dear brother.
► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔  ---
► Who is your best friend ➔ ---
► Who knows everything about you ➔  Mother... She’s the only one who knows...
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drawlfoy · 5 years
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Wonders of Ohio P.2
masterlist request guidelines jesus christ this story just flows off the fingertips
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pairing: draco x muggle!reader
request: from 14 year old me
summary: instead of having a traditional senior year of high school, american y/n is roped into hosting a british exchange student who is...a bit strange.
warnings: cursing and draco being cold and sad :(
a/n: i’m doing it guys! i’m managing my time! and also i really like writing this for some reason...maybe because i can do shameless self insertion. also sorry for going on “hiatus” and then posting...when i said “hiatus” i really meant “i’m only going to write fics that are easy right now”
tags! @accio-rogers @eltanin-malfoy @geeksareunique 
word count: 2,028
music recs: alright by supergrass, killer queen from queen
The Y/L/N household wasn’t tiny, but it wasn’t a mansion by any definition. There was a guest bed and bath right across from Y/N’s room and bathroom, but that was about it for visitors--no drawing room, no library, no large dining room, no parlor. Her family had hailed from a wealthier family, but after the stock market crash and subsequent policy changes, they had moved out to Ohio and settled down for a proper middle class lifestyle.
Draco Malfoy was clearly unimpressed by the spectacle, and he made his opinion entirely obvious as they moved from room to room of their home, his forest green cloak nearly sweeping the ground next to his dress shoes and his nose upturned.
“And this is your room,” Y/N said. She opened the door, standing by it in a desperate attempt to sell the idea. “I know it’s probably not as big as you’re used to, but you get your own bathroom, so that’s nice.”
Draco stared at her with nothing but disgust written across his face. 
“I’ll leave you be,” said Y/N, noticing how hostile he was being. “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall. Don’t hesitate to ask. You’re not the first exchange student, and while I’ve never personally been one, I can understand more than you’d expect.”
He laughed at this, though there was no humor behind it.  He seemed dead set on staying silent. Frustrated by his lack of response, Y/N snatched his arm and yanked him inside his room, shutting the door behind them and ignoring how violently he ripped himself away from her.
“Allow me to be honest,” she said softly, unable to meet him in the eyes. “I don’t really want an exchange sibling this year. It doesn’t seem like you want to be one, right?”
“Your point?” His voice was clipped and unenthused. 
“My point is that I’m going to leave you completely alone unless you want to be friends, which I don’t think you’re interested in at all. If you want a, uh, friend, I’ll be here for you, but I’m not gonna push it.”
She looked at him, noting how he had backed himself into the corner, his jaw clenched tight. 
“I have a feeling there’s a lot that my mom isn’t telling me about why you’re here, but I guess that’s alright. We’re happy to have you anyways. I’m gonna go now, have a nice nap. And, I, uh, I meant what I said. About being friends if you want us to. It’s probably lonely to be so far away from home, so if there’s anything I can do...” Y/N swallowed, cutting her ramble short. “See you later. I’m gonna go out for a bit.”
He simply nodded, walking over to his bed and sitting down on it awkwardly. Y/N curiously took notice of the fact that he hadn’t so much as touched a phone since they had met. But he was rich...so he had to have one.
She nodded back, exiting the door and making her way to the front door. She needed to get out.
<^>
“He kind of seems like your type though,” Lizzy said, propping her chin up on her palm. “Platinum blonde? Blue eyes? Broody and unapproachable?”
“Literally stop it,” Y/N retorted, rolling up to get another handful of popcorn. “He’s so sick of us already, I can feel it. This is just going to be a question of how long we can tolerate each other.”
“Whatever you say, girly,” she said. “When do we all get to meet him? Do you have to take him to orientation on Wednesday?” 
“You might see him on the first day of school, or maybe you can come over before that. And, yeah, I think my mom wants me to go with him.” Y/N frowned, her nose crinkling. “Which totally sucks. I’m gonna have to get up early to hang around freshman.”
“That’s fair. I could come with you, if you’d like?”
“You don’t need to do that, I can handle him,” said Y/N. “But you should come over tomorrow, we can try and get him to go out on the town with us or something.”
“That sounds fun, but I can’t go,  I’m sorry,” said Lizzy. “Tuesdays are bad for me. And plus, I have to finish the physics summer homework.”
“Ugh, me too,” Y/N groaned, flopping onto Lizzy’s bed. “I never should’ve gone in for a second year. Physics is gonna be the death of me.”
“Speaking of death...” Lizzy leaned over to look at the clock. “I feel like it right now. I had a bad night...I was up late talking to Jonathan again, you know. I’m really tired. Let’s plan to meet up this Thursday? Before school?”
“Oooh, Jonathan.” Y/N grinned at her, wiggling her eyebrows. “I expect a full update on that later. I’ll go home then and start on physics, then.”
They finished saying their goodbyes, and Y/N stepped out into the early September night, the air still warm with the last of summer.
<^>
When she arrived home, she was immediately met by her mother, who motioned for her to come into the kitchen, a finger poised to her lips. 
“What is it, Mom?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice a hushed whisper. “Is he still sleeping or something?”
“No, I think he’s taking a shower right now. His luggage came just before you, so he told me he was going to unpack it.” Mrs. Y/L/N poured some leftover coffee into a mug, stirring half & half in the brown drink. “I just wanted to let you know something and check in. You can’t tell anyone about this, alright? Not even Lizzy. Do you promise?”
“Yes, of course I promise!”
“Shh. Okay.” Her mother took a sip from the mug and took a seat at the cheery yellow coffee table. “I was just given more information on Draco’s situation back home. It looks like it was much worse than we were originally told.”
“How bad?”
“Quiet, Y/N. But, yes, very bad. His father is imprisoned in some foreign facility where no familial contact is allowed.”
Y/N gasped. “What?”
“And it doesn’t look like he’s every getting out,” Mrs. Y/L/N finished, stirring her drink even though the milk was already evenly distributed. “He doesn’t seem very nice, and I suspect that that’s an accurate depiction of his character, but promise me that you’ll be nice to him. The boy has been through enough already, and that’s only concerning the things we know.”
“Is there more, do you think?”
“I know there’s more,” Mrs. Y/L/N answered darkly. “I’ve asked questions that they refuse to answer. But his personal experience back home is none of our concern. What matters now is that we give him a good place to stay while everything else is figured out.”
Y/N, speechless, fell into the chair next to her mother and reached out for the coffee mug.
“Ugh, I shouldn’t let you drink this at night,” her mother chastised. 
“You sound like you’re talking about a dog,” Y/N said. She took a small sip, setting the cup back down and sliding it over before her mother could give her any more lip. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway, just out of her line of sight. Curious, she turned her head and promptly met a pair of very stormy grey eyes.
“Oh...H-hey, Draco,” Y/N greeted, plastering a smile across her face. “How long have you, uh, been here?” Her mother lightly kicked her shin under the table.
The blonde was propped up against the doorway, his hair looking almost grey with the water it was dripping. “I was just coming down to ask for a glass of water.” 
“Oh, of course!” Mrs. Y/L/N was on her feet before Y/N knew it, bustling towards the cabinets. “You don’t even need to ask next time. The glasses are in here, and the water’s in the fridge...and of course there’s Y/N’s cabinet of tea here...”
“Mom!” Y/N butted in, her cheeks flaming. “You can’t just stereotype him like that!”
“Hush, you have more than enough to go between the two of you.”
“That’s not the point!” 
Draco was still leaned on the door, watching the interaction like one might watch a particularly boring color of paint dry. 
“Would you like some tea, Draco?” asked Mrs. Y/L/N.
He turned to look Y/N right in the eyes, a smirk forming across his face. “Yes. Thank you for asking.”
Y/N glared at her mother and strode over to the drawer, motioning for Draco to come too. “Pick whatever you want. I’m relieved to know that my mother’s cultural insensitivity didn’t offend you.”
“Now, when did I say that?” Draco drawled, towering over her as he flicked through the various packages of loose leaf teas. 
“Draco, I offer my most heartfelt apologies if I have,” her mother said, her voice becoming more distant as she walked out of the room. “If you two will excuse me, I’m going to call your father to arrange his pickup at the airport tomorrow. Goodnight!”
Y/N was left to awkwardly stand next to Draco as he was preoccupied with the selections available. It felt wrong to leave him alone--he didn’t even know where the kettle was kept--but at the same time, it was very uncomfortable to stand next to him in silence.
“I know about your father.”
The sentiment rushed out of her mouth before she could stop it, and the second she had done so, she knew it was a mistake. Draco’s entire body tensed up, his hands now frozen. 
“What about my father?” His voice was harsh, but the beauty of his accent was not left on Y/N.
“I mean,” she rushed out, “I’m sorry to hear what happened. I only heard that he was being held in a facility without any contact to you or your mother...and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that that had to happen to you.”
He frowned, plucking a bag of tea and throwing it on the counter. 
“And I know that there are things that I’ll never understand,” she continued, “But  I guess I kind of get what it’s like to not have a father. Mine’s gone all the time on business. But it’s not like he’s in pris--Yeah, you know what, nevermind. I don’t understand. But if you ever need someone to talk to...”
She trailed off, noticing how murderous his look was and swallowed. “Yeah, uh, if you ever want someone--”
“You’re here? I understood it the first time, thank you,” he clipped. “Where’s your kettle?” 
Y/N pointed to the cabinet below the drawer. “Right below the tea, if it’s not being cleaned.” She thought she did a very good job at pretending like what he said didn’t hurt. 
Draco snatched the kettle and filled it with water before puzzling over the stove.
“Don’t worry about that, it’s a little confusing for the first time,” Y/N said, darting next to him and demonstrating how to flick it on. She acted like she didn’t notice him flinch at the close proximity. “And mugs are by the glasses, but I’m sure you saw that..before. Uh, anyways.”
She gulped again, stepping away from him to lean nonchalantly on the table behind her. “Your parents let you get a tattoo?” Desperate to change the subject, she pointed to the tiny peek of ink on his left arm, exposed by his jumper riding up. 
He stiffened up, and Y/N knew that she had once again made a mistake. 
“No. They didn’t.”
“So you just did it on your own accord? That’s pretty metal.”
“I don’t have a tattoo,” he snapped, yanking his sleeve down. He seemed to take the time to collect himself again, drawing in a long and shaky breath. “And if I may be so bold to ask, can I enjoy my tea alone?”
“Uh..yeah, yeah, sure. Sorry about that.” Forget that Y/N didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for (existing in her own kitchen?), she wanted to get out of that situation. “Goodnight, Draco.”
He sent her an irritated glance in return. 
final a/n: ohhh gee i sprained my ankle really badly and now i literally can’t walk so you know what that means...more fic
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shaynawrites23 · 4 years
Text
Secret Admirer
Word count: 837
(Y/N) = your name
(B/F/N) = best friend's name
(C/N) = crush's name
(C/H/C) = crush's hair color
(C/E/C) = crush's eye color
“Nope, I'm not doing it.”
“Come on, (Y/N), it would be so romantic! We'll make sure you don't get caught!”
You looked at everything but (B/F/N)'s begging puppy-dog eyes. Every time she wanted you to do something, she had but to make you look into her eyes and you would succumb.
“No! Not this time.” You remained firm. Under no condition were you planning to give in to her.
What did she want this time? Well, it was nearly Valentine's day, and she was hoping you would do something special. You had already refused to confess to your crush, but that didn't stop her. She now wanted you to write (C/N) a card and sign it 'secret admirer.'
You weren't completely opposed to it, but the thought of getting caught or of him finding out somehow, terrified you.
You snuck a peek at your best friend, wondering if she'd perhaps given up. She had been awfully quiet.
However, as soon as you looked, you regretted it. She sat right there next to you, her eyes pleading, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. For a moment you resisted, hoping to whatever higher power existed that this wouldn't be enough to convince you, but deep inside you knew it was hopeless. The puppy-dog eyes had done you in.
“Ugh! Fine.” You threw your hands up in surrender.
“Yay!” (B/F/N) cheered, and you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm. “Come, girl, Valentine's day is tomorrow! Let's go buy you a card!”
She nearly dragged you to the store, handing you cards to look at with the energy of a five-year-old kid at bedtime.
“He's gonna love this one.” You mumbled, turning a card over in your hands that read You're cute! Can I keep you?
“(B/F/N), I've made my choice, can we go now?” You huffed, placing the twenty-something cards she had given you back on the rack.
“Wait! I still need something for my boyfriend!”
You let out a sigh. This was gonna take a while.
An hour later, (B/F/N) held a cute teddy bear and a rose in her arms, and you ended up with not only your card, but also the heart-shaped box of chocolates she managed to convince you to buy.
“Write something cute, but not something too stalkerish.” You jumped, not realizing how she stood behind you, peering over your shoulder at the empty card in front of you.
“Would you just go mind your own business? Last I checked, you have a romantic date to plan out.”
Not a bit fazed by your attitude, she spun around on her heel and left, whistling a Disney love song as she went.
Tapping your pen against your chin, your thoughts wandered to (C/N), the (C/H/C), (C/E/C) eyed boy. What would you write? Definitely not something that made you sound like a stalker, like (B/F/N) said, but also not something that could lead him to find out who gave him the card.
Dear (C/N),
You caught my eye the day we met. You're special. You have a very positive aura. I love hearing the passion in your voice when you talk about things you love. It's almost like you light up. You're an amazing (C/I) player, and I love (watching/listening to) you play. I would go on, but I actually need to finish this card in time for Valentine's Day, so I'll keep it short. I like you, (C/N).
Signed,
Your secret admirer
You doodled some flowers and hearts around your message before slipping the card into an envelope and writing his name on the front.
“You done yet, girlfriend? I've got some movies for us to watch!” (B/F/N) called you from the living room.
“Coming!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, you stood in the corridor with (B/F/N), the latter whispering words of encouragement in your ear. You wiped your clammy hands on your clothes. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to (C/N)'s locker, quickly taping the envelope to the door.
Before (C/N) could spot you, you hid in the crowd of students, next to your locker so you could use it as an excuse if the need arose.
“I did it, (B/F/N).” Your eyes were wide, almost like you couldn't believe what you had just done.
“Oh, I'm so proud of you!” She squealed, enveloping you in a hug.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A smile graced your features as you watched him over lunch. You watched as he opened the envelope, and you saw the blush creep up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears when his friends proceeded to tease him about it. But despite that, he looked so happy...
“Changing your mind about confessing?” (B/F/N) smirked.
You shook your head in response. “Maybe eventually, but for now, he's happy, and that's all I want.”
Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all of you! I hope you all your plans worked out (for those that had any!)
I wish I had the guts to confess to my crush, or at least give him something for Valentine's. But nope, it's never gonna happen. If any of you did, please feel free to post them in the comments, I'd love to hear about your experiences.
My mom recently saw him play during our last concert. She said he played well (okay obviously, he's really good) and then she remarked that he is actually handsome. I didn't know how to respond to that. Awkward...
PS: I originally posted this on my Wattpad account 3 months ago, I know it’s not February :)
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antihero-writings · 5 years
Note
Please give us Lisa and Vlad just being loving science parents (bonus points if they’re protective)
I’m SOOOO sorry for taking so long to respond!!
This was the first ask/prompt I felt like I could answer in a short fic, and I wanted to try responding directly on the ask like I’ve seen some people do…but, just like me, I took forever to write/edit even something short XD
Apologies if any of this is inaccurate…usually I rewatch bits of the the show to double check, but I was already taking forever to write this so I didn’t this time...
Anyway, I was really excited to try out an actual scene from Adrian/Alucard’s childhood, and I enjoyed writing it!! Thanks for the delightful prompt!!
Loving + protective science parents coming right up!!
(I also had another idea for this prompt that was more science-y that I might post later, so stay tuned in case—and please let me know if you’d be interested in that/more of this type of thing!!)
*****
Father was going to be furious.
Adrian’s brain ran through all the potential scenarios; at first it was the sound of his father’s raised voice, and at last it was the feeling of the dirt outside the castle—thrown out, on the grounds that breaking a mirror was more than bad luck. Sure, it might be a small chance, but a child’s imagination hasn’t been domesticated yet.
“Are you alright, sweetie?” his mother asked the quintessential mother’s question at the dinner table, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve barely touched your food.”
Adrian didn’t say anything. He wanted to speak, to defend himself, to lie, but words were fickle and cruel; they rose to surface, but when he tried to net them, they dove back down his throat.
Emotions, however, weren’t particular about how and when they appeared, and bit even those who didn’t at all want to catch them.
“I…I’m sorry.” Tears began to fill his eyes.
“Sorry?” Lisa half laughed. “Sorry for what?”
The boy’s golden eyes flickered to his father, who paused, and cocked his head to the side. Only confusion. No anger there…yet.
But surely there would be. His mind offered a seven-course meal on just how angry the vampire king might get in the next few minutes.
Lies, excuses dove down his throat. But the truth wouldn’t stay choked down.
“I…I broke your mirror!” he blurted out, too loudly, “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I—It just fell to pieces! I wasn’t playing with it or anything!”
He heard how loud, how tiny, his voice sounded, and the excuses sputtered and died.
He was ready for Dracula to stand tall, to demand how and why, for his eyes to flash red and…okay, maybe not ready, but expecting it, at the very least.
Instead the Tepes parents looked each other quizzically.
“Which mirror?” His father asked calmly—mirrors weren’t exactly the most common occurrence in a vampire’s house, after all.
Adrian sank down in his chair, his eyes darting away, the words a low burbling murmur, “The-The one in your study.”
His parents’ faces broke, not in anger, but into forgiving—almost amused—smiles, like he had done something funny and didn’t know it.
“Come with me, Son.” Dracula stood up from the table—but less as the commanding presence, more in a sweeping, flowing motion that could take him away with him—holding out a hand.
Adrian’s eyes ran to the safety of his mother—the nod that she gave said go with him.
He got up from the table, taking his father’s hand—(not as cold as you might think)—still apprehensive, but now more than a little curious. His little footsteps pattered along behind the calculated tolls in the halls.
They came to the scene of the crime: the study. What was once once a smooth, shining mirror, now a pile of glittering glass on the ground. Adrian looked away, swallowing, at the sight of it.
Dracula let go of his son’s fingers, taking a step forward. He looked over his shoulder smirking a little, and raising his hand.
With one motion his sin was undone; the puddle of a mirror rose, like a dog called by its owner, the jagged droplets coalescing back into the rippling surface.
Adrian’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, seeing himself reflected in it silver waves, as if he was the only one in the room. Dracula put a hand on his shoulder.
“This isn’t a normal mirror.” He waved a hand and the scene within the mirror became something else entirely: a mossy forest. He waved his hand again and before them was a moonlit beach. “It can take you anywhere in the world.”
Adrian took another step closer, mouth agape, staring at the shifting scenes, and reached out. Before he could touch it, however, Dracula waved his hand, and he was reflected in the room again.
“Can we go somewhere?” He looked up at his father, the fire dancing from the mirror to those golden irises.
The kind look in his father’s eyes flickered.
“Not…today.” He turned to leave the room.
Adrian rushed up to him. “Tomorrow?”
The vampire king paused, flicking his wrist, and Adrian started at the sound of shattering glass; the mirror had returned to its fragmented pile.
“You have lessons tomorrow.”
The boy followed him into the hall. “The next day then?”
“Son—” Dracula stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He sighed and crouched down before him, one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing through his son’s hair.
“You are one of the brightest children I’ve ever met—and I don’t meet a lot of children,” he laughed a little. “You are kind, and gentle… and you always do what you feel is right.”
Adrian smiled sheepishly.
His father twisted a lock of his hair around his finger. “But the world out there…”—Excitement ran from Adrian’s toes to the tip of his tongue, but he said nothing; something made his father’s eyes look redder— “Has no place for that.” He turned his nail, cutting the strand of hair. “Your place is here, in the castle, with your mother and I, where it’s safe.”
Adrian looked at the ground, biting his lip, desperately trying to keep the fluttering thing in his stomach from dying.
“But I—”
His father raised himself back up, six feet tall and all vampire.
“It’s time for bed.” He said, and it’s not up for discussion.
*****
“What’s it like, out there?” Adrian asked as his mother tucked him in for bed.
“Well,” she thought about it. “It’s big,” she pulled the covers tight around his shoulders. “Bigger than you could imagine. And colorful, much more colorful than this old place. The sun is so bright, and it has a way of illuminating everything beneath it, making it look more beautiful. And there are hundreds of thousands of animals, howling—awoo!—and meowing”—she pawed at him, and he laughed—“and chirping”—she whistled—“out there, and just as many people—all creating wonderful things, singing, dancing…” She trailed off.
She seemed so happy when she talked about the outside world.
“Mother?” he asked softly.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“…Will I ever get to go out there?”
“Why of course! Why do you ask?”
“Father says…he says that the world out there has no place for—”
“Adrian,” she paused, then reached out to cup his cheek“…your father is what most people would call an old fuddy-duddy.” She smiled, then paused, saying more seriously. “He…hasn’t had very many good experiences with people. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“So… you’ll take me out there?”
“Well,” she laughed, “Well, I can’t exactly sneak you out tonight. But yes, one day. Your father will take some convincing, but I’m pretty good at persuading him. …Did you hear about the time I showed up at his front door?”
He’d heard it alright; only about a thousand times.
But there would be a time, many years later, a time when he walked the world, and some mirrors that broke couldn’t be repaired, when he would give anything to hear her tell it just once more.
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dredshirtroberts · 4 years
Text
Hooooo boy we are feelin some EMOTIONS today, folks.
this is not a happy post, if you’d like to skip I entirely understand, and in fact encourage doing so.
I’ve been needing to do a one of these for a lil bit because I’ve got Thoughts and Feelings and they are complicated and I can’t accurately parse them in my head so we’re gonna air it out on Tumblr like a sheet on the line during laundry day.
here’s the thing.
I got some complicated family feelings in my chest places and it fucking *sucks*.
I was kept from spending time with my family by various means over the past several years to the point where I wasn’t attending holidays - which, in my family, is just not done. You can skip a holiday but you have to make it up on another occasion and I...wasn’t doing that anymore. Two separate people had me convinced I was not loved by my family, that they did not care for or appreciate me like *they* could and that I was better off not being around my family.
And maybe they had some valid points. Which I hate admitting because they used a lot of “valid points” to get me to be completely isolated in life without anyone but them and any time I branched out I was, for lack of a better term, “punished” for having denied them my attention or time or whatever. (this is of course not as nuanced a take on it as I would prefer but this is already going to be long without me going through the whole...everything, again. You can search the captain rambles and life post tags on my blog for more on this topic).
Anyway...so I’m no longer with people who are actively trying to keep me from talking to other people/being around people who are supportive of my own efforts and goals, etc. And I was welcomed back into my family with open arms and that was...honestly unexpected. After everything I’d had told to me about how they were and how they should be and what I should feel about them...I wasn’t expecting them to love me.
I rode that rose-colored wave for a *while*. But as the world descends into chaos and I learn more things about myself that make me feel more like *me* than I have...possibly ever now that I try and think about it, I am seeing things that I had hoped had been exaggerated or made up by those in my life who had hurt me.
My parents raised me in a very right-wing conservative household. The evangelical style of christianity didn’t come until I was already an adult but the building blocks must have been there or it wouldn’t have happened so...extremely when it finally did. There were a lot of...really shitty attitudes towards other people that I didn’t recognize growing up in it - I didn’t recognize it until a lot later, in fact.
They’re...They don’t see anything wrong with the way they are. Which, you know, *sucks*. 
There’s going to be a lot of dismissive phrases littered throughout this because I’m trying to be...i don’t know. I do it as a thing to lighten the mental load on myself - dismissiveness and joking around, exaggerating for effect, etc. - which i know might come off weird but like...this is really fucking bothering me guys and I...I’m doing my best.
Cause here’s the thing. I was raised believing the world was one way and that we were *right* about things. We had the answers and anyone (liberals) who didn’t agree with us were wrong and would either see the light and come to our side or were too stupid to know how wrong they were so we wouldn’t have associated with them anyway. (reasons why i’m currently frustrated with the political opposition to Republicans/Conservatives/The Right #1 actually)
And then I grew up and I saw the world was not that way. And I expected that my family would be able to see the world with the insight I had gained, and..they just...don’t.
I’ve excused a lot of their shit beliefs recently. not like, trying to defend them to anyone or anything but I don’t confront them. Mostly because I know while they won’t say it to my face, I know how they think about people who think like me (because I was there for those conversations, I was there and I thought like them and now i don’t and that makes me one of those idiots they talked about, a stupid person who can’t see the truth they believe so fully that they think is backed up by facts and figures but their facts and figures are *flawed* - mine aren’t better but I can acknowledge that and extrapolating data from all the things and coming to a conclusion is what I was taught to do but now that I do it for the wrong side what must they think of me? What must they say behind my back?)
I have...a lot of kinda fucked up shit about my family. Nothing overt, nothing that immediately screams to me “Hey fuck-o, this shit isn’t a universal experience and something is wrong here!” but it’ll be small things that I’m like “Ah, okay. Not everyone had this experience and those that did are currently working through the *trauma* of it by going to *therapy*. Hm.”
I’ve done some work in that respect and that’s good. Doesn’t make my issues go away but makes it so I can handle them a little better. Most of the time anyway.
I’m trying to make several things that are true but contradictory work together in my brain and it’s not going well.
1) my family cares about me and wants me to do well.
2) my family has hurt me in the past and is currently hurting me (though not intentionally and not maliciously - please dear god let it be unintentional and non-malicious). 
3) My family does not “agree” with LGBTetc people.
4) My family do not believe that there are systemic issues inherent in the government we live in/under and the society we must participate in (Because it benefits them, and they have not had to challenge their thoughts on this before).
5) My family are kind of racist.
6) My family was my only support system when I was leaving an abusive situation.
7) ...My family might have abused me a little.
I go back and forth on point seven a *lot*. See point 2 about the intentionality/maliciousness factors. If they didn’t mean to do it, does it still count? 
Does it matter if it still hurts?
My sister outright told me that she doesn’t agree with trans people (meaning she doesn’t believe you can be trans, really). But I’m okay because it’s me, and now I can be her gay best friend when we’re drinking at family stuff.
She didn’t understand why I was hurt by that. I attempted to explain it and she got defensive and angry so I just...didn’t fight about it. Just played the part. I’m her brother when it benefits her but otherwise I’m still her sister. I’m still mom and dad’s daughter. Even though I told them I’m not a girl. I told them I’m a guy.
Dad’s response was the most favorable initially and I think...he might eventually come around to it (he’s always wanted a son. he has a boy dog and has also imprinted really hard on his lawn roomba about it). He also might...not.
I’d like to transition further. Eventually. If it’s feasible. But also, right now it’s not. Right now it’s me cutting my hair short and not wearing dresses or skirts (even though they’re super comfy) because I want to avoid being misgendered as often as possible. It’s binding for uncomfortable and unsafe lengths of time because I am a MAN dammit, and I will be a man at this family function in whatever way I can. And when I go to the length that I do to be seen the way I want to be seen and I am *ignored*....
fuckin’ hurts you guys. I just fuckin’ hurts. 
And I want to correct them. I want to stand up and say STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME. PLEASE. I AM NOT A GIRL. I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT AS A GIRL. PLEASE JUST CALL ME A BOY, USE MY PRONOUNS, USE A NEW NAME OR AT LEAST THE NICKNAME THAT ISN’T MY FULL NAME. 
but i don’t.
because I’m scared of losing them again.
And it’s fucked up because they’re *already* lost. They’re Fox-watchers and Trump-supporters and they don’t want to listen to science or facts or *anything* outside of what’s presented to them by pundits and talk show hosts, and the fucking EIB network with their political propaganda for anything that isn’t what the liberals want.
And I don’t know that I can get them back because they’re *real* far down that particular rabbit hole. And I’m...I’m just trying to figure out what I want in life. What makes me happy. And part of what I want is what I always wanted and never had.
I want my mom and dad to look at me, see me, see what I do see how I try and what I love and care about and tell me that I’m enough. That they love me because this is who I am and I am enough for them. Even if I wasn’t accomplished and didn’t try they would still love me because I’m *me*. and I’m their *child* and they *love me*.
And GOD it is so FUCKING painful to know that’s not a realistic thing to hope for. Because I’ve been trying for 28 GODDAMN years doing ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I can to be enough for them. I played good, christian, conservative little girl for SO goddamn long, even when I wasn’t Christian or conservative anymore, even when I saw the cracks, I wanted to be what they wanted.
And even now that I *am* what my dad wanted (a son) I’m not enough because to him i’m still a girl, to my mom I’m the failed daughter the one she didn’t do enough for so now it’s about how she fucked up and not about NO. This is ME. Stop. Stop LOOKING at me like that WHEN YOU DON’T SEE ME. YOU SEE SOME IDEALIZED VERSION OF ME WHO WAS NEVER GOING TO EXIST BECAUSE SHE WASN’T ENOUGH EITHER.
...
This is a lot more than I thought it would be, pain wise tonight, guys. My bad. 
I’m still struggling with my eating habits, I’m still struggling with my self-worth, and finding what makes me feel fulfilled. I’m getting better at some of it though.
I’ve smiled and laughed more in the past week or so than I have since I came out to my family. I wouldn’t have done that without my very very good friends who are very very kind to me and god I wish I could do more than draw stupid pictures and write stupid stories for them but it makes them happy too? so i’ll just do what I can and maybe it’ll be alright. 
Gonna try not to fall too deep down the abandonment issues pit tonight folks. I’m already upset enough. 
Good talk.
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writerwrites · 4 years
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Protégé to Bruce Banner, Rosemarie finds herself working closely with and befriending the Avengers. Friendship, lust, heartbreak, and so much more find her along this heartbreaking journey into new adulthood. Rosemarie discovers her self-worth and that home is where the heart is… she’ll just have to figure out what her heart is saying first.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Smut 18+, language, angst, fluff, language, ye ole slow burn, and eventually death, pregnancy, love triangle… or love adjacent to a triangle? It’s complicated.
playlist . masterlist
A/N: This WIP is intentionally made to ruin all of our lives with feels. You were warned. It’s just my writing style, but I use a name for the reader, in this case Rosemarie, so adjust your imaginations as you read, fam. Also, I do what I want, so don’t come at me for MCU canon timelines. The most notable YOLO in this series is that Bucky/Winter Soldier is an Avenger pre-Blip, Banner isn’t in space, and though there’s tension between the Tony and Cap ‘sides’ of the Sokovia Accords they’re all trying to work together. Avenging is not a main point to this story, but that’s the clarification I will give you. I hope you enjoy my first posted fic, leave a comment, review, message, etc.
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Introduction: October 2016
--- BANNER SCIENCE TECHNOLOGIES (BST); MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, NY ---
“Anything? Anything at all? Bueller?” Rosemarie looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to spot some sort of subtle difference in her appearance. Though she had been searching for a job in her field for months, the ‘spooky’ elevator music chirping through the bathroom was an indication that she was just shy of that November 1st tuition payment start up. Her May graduation felt like a distant memory and all the years of hard work and applications to various schools, and even scholarships for being gifted and a minority hardly made a dent in the mountain of debt that came with attaining a doctoral degree. So, the prodigy looked, hoping for even a crinkle in the corner of your twenty-two year old eyes or a crease in her forehead. A little guilty knot formed in her stomach, as she thought no one ever wanted to ‘grow up’ faster than she did.
Rosemarie had been an intern for Stark Industries during her undergrad and worked a part-time research position for Stark while she looked for the right fit. It had been the CEO and his wife, Pepper, who had tipped you off about Dr. Banner’s small new company, Banner Science Technologies. No amount of ass kissing or overtime seemed to get the young woman a chat with Tony Stark, who was providing significant financial support to his friend and her boss’ endeavor, and she had all but given up until three weeks ago. That fateful email felt more like an unexpected termination. The fear of going ‘upstairs’ for that meeting amused Tony, he’d told her so much when he cackled that he had watched her self-talking on the journey up.
Now at BST, Rosemarie was leading a medical research team that rivaled Elon Musk and every major university in neuroscience. But there she was, leaning into the mirror on Day One, wishing she felt like she knew what she was doing, like she didn’t look like a dork in your square black rimmed glasses, or that she would look older than she was because she wanted to be taken seriously. The young doctor hadn’t realized that her accomplishments had already done that for her because almost no one ever blew through a public education, let alone Yale, like she had. The emotions tied to repeated social rejection; however, began to bubble in her chest like poison before her badge glimmered on her hip and snapped her out of the trance.
Oddly, in that interview for BST, Banner didn’t ask the doctor about her research. He asked Rosemarie about her mental health, how she balanced work and life, and what her definition of world peace was. It had somehow never occurred to her that both Banner and Stark shared the unnatural gift of intellect since they were young too and that, at least to some degree, could relate to her experiences. There was a steady and natural intimidation that came with working for an Avenger like Bruce, but seeing the rest of them in passing at the lab in Stark Industry’s famous tower made the young woman slowly catch glimpses of their humanity, taking off the rose colored glasses placed on every stranger’s face by the media’s interpretation of them. Nevertheless, Rosemarie was a nobody, a lab rat, scientist, doctor, dork, and perpetually invisible to everyone at work. In fact, she had been her whole life, special but not special enough to warrant connecting with on a personal level. She told herself you’ll learn to appreciate the anonymity, but after being an academic shining star in college and spending a half a year looking for a job in the field, any semblance of confidence left in her small frame had certainly faltered.
Before Rosemarie could hit the ‘wallow in self pity’ button on her emotional circuit board, the bathroom door opened. Quickly straightening up and without looking at who came, she turned on the water to wash her hands and only upon reaching for the air dryer did she realize that the woman was the curvy redhead Avenger known for her skills in espionage, linguistics, weaponry, and combat; Black Widow. Rosemarie blinked, making a mental note to not call her that if she managed to speak at all. She looked at the young doctor curiously, her eyebrows slowly drawing together in confusion. “Are you really going to the party dressed up as Bruce? We try not to do ‘the Avengers’ at this thing every year.”
Whether it was from Agent Romanoff’s use of air quotes or the fact that she was speaking to a person that saw themselves as invisible, Rosemarie’s mouth bobbed open and closed, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. “Party? Bruce?” Please, Rosemarie, save yourself from chronic rambling, she mentally monologued, only showing she was in her head through the pursing of her lips and a fleeting nod of acknowledgement; both of which hadn’t gone unnoticed by the spy.
“Bruce really forgot to invite his top dog? Typical. I swear I told him three times this week alone.” She walked around toward Rosemarie with speed and grace. Her gaze was analytical of the body in front of her, despite the majority of it being tucked underneath a pristine new lab coat, as she kept talking, “The annual Halloween costume party is tonight and you and the other two department leads…” she waved her hand when she realized she’d forgotten their names. “Anyways, it’s a party Tony throws every year and it’s always been Stark Industries, Rand Corp., and some other companies in Stark’s pocket that get all the big faces together for a few drinks, laughs, and a good time. Banner Sci. Tech. has Tony at the table and Bruce in bright lights. You’ve got to be there,” Just as a protest was about to pass the girl’s lips a finger went to them, “No excuses, Rosemarie. Consider it a part of the ‘other duties as assigned’ clause on your employment agreement.” She wiggled her fingers dramatically, but there the lab rat stood, utterly dumbfounded. A new question was on her mind: What could she possibly add to a conversation with a bunch of brilliant wealthy CEOs and superheroes? “Soooo, naturally, the people that are the glue of this place should come and rub shoulders. You know, show ‘em why you’re so fantastic. Get to know the people your tech will likely be used by, little like that.”
“But, I’m… me?” The words were quiet, disjointed, and felt like you had more confidence giving your first valedictorian speech to a crowd of Seniors that had bullied you for walking with them at the age of twelve.
“Exactly, Dr. Smarypants. You’re you, which is why we’re going to mine and getting you some costume that doesn’t make you the laughing stock of introductions. How old are you, anyway?” Natasha opened the bathroom door and the doctor walked out feeling like she was about to get the Princess Diaries treatment with some sort of Nightmare on Elm Street plot twist.
“I turned twenty-two last February.” The answer was offered up in the tone of an apology but she disregarded the awkward timbre and stuck to the facts, making Rosemarie’s shoulders relax just a little.
“Well thank God for that,” The Avenger’s laugh echoed through the hall. “I was half worried you wouldn’t be able to drink and then you’d be both bored and silent at the party.”
With a finger up she skipped over to the main lab’s window where Bruce was squinting at four screens and banging on a tablet. When he finally looked over at the redhead, everyone in the vicinity noticed his expression quickly melting, something Rosemarie had certainly never seen. Natasha pointed to her watch, to Rosemarie, and gestured little walking legs with her fingers. Dr. Banner acknowledged her with what looked like a mouthed ‘I love you’ but before Rosemarie could even smile at the site he offered her an apologetic nod, unnerving her once more. In the blink of an eye, Natasha was dragging her out of the office, arm in arm, and out of midtown Manhattan.
--- BRUCE AND NATASHA’S LIMESTONE; UPPER EAST SIDE, MANHATTAN, NY ---
Despite asking a few times over what she had in store, Nat, as she asked to be called, gave her little to go on. Sitting on a bench at the foot of her boss’ California King bed, she watched Natasha rummaging through the walk-in closet. “Clint’s daughter dragged me to Disney a few months back. She insisted we go ‘Disneybounding’ and I have more wigs than I’ll ever need.” She was processing her choices and more than once Rosemarie picked up something that flew out of the walk-in closet at her head. A shimmering ruby red dress landed to the left and her mouth fell open in horror at the plunging neckline and thigh extra-high slit. Nat came out with a few things on her arm and laughed at the look of pure exasperation, “Don’t worry, babe, that’s mine… and this,” She plopped the garments into her victim’s arms, “Is your get up. There’s a bathroom down the hall, the only door on the left. I’ll be over in a bit to help with your makeup.”
Rosemarie wasn’t sure if she should take offense to the fact that it wasn’t a question, but remained too intimidated to say anything. Once in the bathroom with her back to the mirror she took off her white lab coat and untucked the seafoam green tie-neck satin blouse and skinny black slacks. As she folded the discarded clothes, she sighed at how proud of the outfit she’d been just this morning and how it now felt like a bland choice by the time she saw half of the spy’s closet. Like the pang of emotions set off a bomb, Rosemarie was self-talking about how nice Nat was being to her and to see this as a professional opportunity rather than a terrifying obligation. The mental chatter was enough to get her into the outfit which, surprisingly, required no sucking in, tucking, or wiggling to get on. It wasn’t until she turned to the mirror that Rosemarie registered what ‘Disney bounding’ was, immediately placing the character the ensemble was meant to resemble.
The high-waisted yellow shorts with their two panels of brassy buttons hugged Rosemarie's hips and made her see the curves of a defined hourglass frame for the first time in clothing other than yoga pants. The off the shoulder royal blue crop top had enough draping and a built-in bra to make her comfortable about wearing this around other professionals, just the tiniest hint of the tan skin of her upper stomach when she raised her hands or posed, neither of which she planned to do tonight. The red bow against black hair was the perfect final touch to make it obvious the outfit was a modern Snow White. Before Rosemarie could overanalyze going to a work event in the getup, there was a rhythmic knock on the door and, even though she thought she’d locked it, Nat was walking in, items in hand. At first she whistled, taking Rosemarie’s hand in hers and spinning her around. Nat smiled when she saw the heat rise up the bashful doctor’s neck and color flooded her cheeks. “I have one last thing.”
Until Nat pulled black heels from behind her back Rosemarie hadn’t even noticed Natasha had changed, but when she did her mouth went dry. “You look…” With a knowing smirk, she put her hands on Rosemarie’s hips and spun her back toward the mirror, her chest pressed to the doctor’s back as she studied her features, the pouted lips and high cheekbones, the long eyelashes underneath the ridiculously hipster glasses. Rosemarie felt naked in front of her, no one having ever really looked at her that way before and her body naturally reacted with a shiver that caused her hips to roll back into her host. As Rosemarie was about to apologize, Nat simply smiled and shook her head no, getting to work on their makeup with both expertise and speed.
Rosemarie thought she had gotten away with the embarrassing and obvious moment of unrequited attraction when the Avenger popped the lipstick into a wristlet purse that looked like an apple. Then she leaned in like a panther pouncing on her prey and, somehow, the doctor didn’t cower back. Nat was intrigued by that, a little curve found its way to the corner of her crimson lips, two shades darker and glossed compared to Rosemarie’s, “Let’s have a good time tonight, Snow. Something tells me it’s going to get very interesting.” She bit her lip, noticing that Rosemarie was holding your breath and assumed that it was a combination of her looking great and being the girlfriend of the girl’s boss, she wasn’t wrong. Nat still dipped down between her legs and slipped the heels onto the young woman’s feet, letting her fingertips tickle her ankle before they were holding hands and heading to the party.
--- STARK INDUSTRIES: THE TOWER; MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, NY ---
The closer they got to Tony Stark’s ‘Tower’ the more Rosemarie wanted the stroke of midnight to hit so she could get out of dodge. Nat worried, even if she hid it well. She’d playfully asked her a few casual questions about her time at Yale, what the parties were like, and what the doctor liked to do for fun. She quickly and accurately surmised that the twenty two year old had been in love once and upon some bad sex and the dropping of the ‘L’ word, she’d been dropped like a fly. The pity never reached Natasha’s face, but it was there. It reminded her of more than one person that would be at the Tower tonight, and as she cooed compliments to the anxious new girl in town, she hoped that offering the invitation was the right thing. Rosemarie nodded and blushed, hoping accepting was the right choice too, though she didn’t hide it well at all.
As Natasha entertained that young woman with pleasant little stories about how harmless everyone was, she couldn’t help but think that, with the tension of the Sokovia Accords, you might not be up for the mental olympics the attendees would undoubtedly be going through. As the elevator doors closed behind them, Rosemarie didn’t notice how worried Nat was and instead tried to calm herself down in the bustling room. Her matte dusty rose lips pressed into a closed mouth smile as she tried to remember little details about the people in front of her, people that she had only heard about on television or seen through a lab window. “Here we go,” Nat spoke with surprising pep and with a sigh, Rosemarie followed. She was glad Natasha let her walk down the stairs behind her as the crowd funneled in both in front and behind them. You can do this. You’re smart, a good person, you can do this. This is totally normal. Just smile and nod, fake it to the bar, fake it ‘til you make it. The doctor’s gaze brushed across the room after Natasha moved away toward Bruce. Immediately Rosemarie froze, a few heads that had turned to greet Nat now turned toward her. Well, shit.
CHAPTER 1
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Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes​
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naysaltysalmon · 4 years
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Shoutout to @tiburme for tagging me~!
Rules: Name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things and then tag 10 people.
Oh, massive spoilers below btw.
1. Gon Freecss from Hunter x Hunter: My favorite shounen protagonist by far. At first you think he’s your typical happy-go-lucky bouncy boye :D who definitely doesn’t have abandonment issues or self-destructive tendencies that literally actually almost kill him later on, and then, uwu... The amount of complexity that Gon has as a protagonist who hardly ever has stand-alone development is nothing short of astounding. How during the Chimera Ant Art his characterization totally dips off to the side to become an unknowable entity even to the audience, while still retaining amazing character development regardless -- not to mention how brilliantly daring his decision to threaten Komugi is that nearly every other author with such a happy-go-lucky protagonist would shy away from in cowardice -- is absolutely surreal to me. The more I think and write about Gon, the more I fall in love with him. If I ever meet his father, and by that I mean his real father, the creator, Togashi, I have nothing else to say but,,, well done, sir.
2. Tanjirou Kamado from Demon Slayer: I’m really hoping the Demon Slayer movie comes out soon because I absolutely love this boy and how charming he is. Unlike most protagonists, not just of shounen anime but of seemingly macho story lines that involve power-ups and training in general, Tanjirou never lets go of his kind heart. (Welp, except maybe in some cases when he’s facing the Upper Moons later on -- I haven’t caught up yet -- but WE’RE GONNA IGNORE THAT for now.) From the beginning, Tanjirou’s kindness isn’t an obstacle holding back his power, though other characters pose it that way, but rather he cultivates his empathy to grant peace to the demons he faces. He smiles in the face of anyone who treats him poorly because of his cluelessness, and that’s just so heartwarming to see, and dare I say subversive to the hardened, calculating, and cocky male protagonists we so often get. Good job, Gotouge.
3. Joseph Joestar from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Giorno Giovanna was a close second, but I gotta go with Joseph. He’s the one who made me fall in love with the series, and with the later parts too. Unlike Jonathan Joestar, who was chivalrous and manly, Joseph was a riot: colorful, arrogant, funny, but also extremely clever. I absolutely loved his, “Next you’ll say...!” because at first I expected it to just be him being an overconfident asshole and eventually he’d be proven wrong at the ~Dai Pinchi Moment~ (please excuse my weeb speech, I legit didn’t know what else to call it), but then he hit the mark every time and eventually I was just waiting for when he’d pull that out and it was so hype. Also I surely can’t forget his transformation as an old dude in Part 3 -- him screaming “OOHHHH MY GAAAWDDDA!” and “HOLY SHIIIT!” murdered me every time. And of course, last but not least, the raw fucking emotion when Caeser died -- the dude actually gave a shit and wasn’t made entirely of wit and absurdity, but heart too. Joseph set the tone for what JJBA was as a whole for me (fuck off with that “but Part 3/Part 4 is the best Part” bullshit, Part 2 will always be top tier for me because of Joseph Joestar’s brilliant, bright, and beautiful absurdity -- but Part 5 was really good too). Araki really is a genius.
4. Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess: My love for this series is a bit older than the series I’ve already mentioned, and TLoZ: TP was actually probably the first time I got seriously obsessed with a fandom. I love all the Links in their own ways, but Twilight Princess really drove home the “lone wolf chosen by the gods, fighting against the world” narrative for me. It made me feel important and strong at a time when no one cared about me. Seeing Link struggle silently through his quest with villagers who meant well but did nothing for him, and Midna who started out as a reluctant acquaintance and eventually became so much more, meant so much to me at the time I played the game. I will always love Twilight Princess the most because of what it did for me at one of the darkest times in my life, and because I felt completely and utterly immersed in every part of the story and gameplay through Link’s character, who was, and in many ways, still is, so relatable to me: Silent courage really is what I use to get through every day.
5. Greedling from Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood): For once I’m not naming the protagonist of a series! Lissen, I still smile whenever I see the slightest reference to Edward Elric, but now he’s more of my childhood love. He’s just a part of my personality already? LOL. Anyway, FMA(B) has so many good characters that choosing just one doesn’t feel right (I mean, same with HxH tho). I say Greedling because that encompasses both Ling and Greed though, two of my favorite characters from the series! Ling’s apparent childishness in constantly running away from fights, making other people pay for his food, and failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation (until Lan Fan’s arm gets cut off lol oops) is so adorable and entertaining. He’s the best kind of idiot asshole, and I especially love how he teases Ed. After him and Greed fuse, Ling’s stout heart becomes even more apparent, as he constantly eggs Greed on to remember his past life, his friends, and become someone outside of Father/the Dwarf in the Flask. Conversely, Greed’s nonchalance and (of course) avarice are nothing short of entertaining and heartbreaking. Greed’s realization at the end, when he finally admitted to himself that what he wanted all along were “friends like these,” completely crushed me the first few times I watched FMAB. And when he’s screaming in the tunnels under Central after having killed Bido, remembering his friends, and he doesn’t understand why, and later attacks Wrath/King Bradley... that shit was so entertaining and cathartic to watch. None of his development feels like forced redemption, nor like it was too little development, since it mostly happens in the background and away from the “validating eyes” of the protagonists other than Ling. And at the end, when Ling and Greed work together to take down Bradley and all the soldiers invading Central HQ... it’s so beautiful. Many have said this before but I’ll say it again: Hiromu Arakawa wrote the perfect series.
6. Ciel Phantomhive from Black Butler: Another protagonist! And another older obsession of mine. Ciel remains in my mind to this day mainly for his heartlessness in relation to his age, and the fluidity with which Toboso tells his story. Normally when authors write younger characters into their serious stories, they make “child adults” of sorts, but Ciel feels totally realistic to the extent that he is both childish and adult to me. Obviously, Ciel is responsible and (normally) level-headed due to being the head of the Phantomhive household, but also from trauma. Yet, his cruelty at times is what sticks in my mind the most: You really feel that he’s someone who feels he’s been abandoned by the entire world, given his experiences, and that makes him disregard or use others sometimes in order to reach his own ends. Normally, authors would be too cowardly to let their protagonists, let alone child protagonists, go to such lengths to avenge their family, or carry out their duty as the dog of the military (looking at you, Arakawa -- she’s still a goddess tho). But Ciel is unforgiving. He lies to Snake and tells him his troupe is still alive. He murders the entire troupe because he’s triggered -- a childish decision, but driven with adult-like power due to trauma. It’s devastatingly riveting, and I cannot forget his unrelenting, contained rage to this day.
7. Ahsoka Tano from Star Wars: The Clone Wars: This one may come as a shock to most of you, because I hardly ever post Star Wars let alone Ahsoka content on here -- but it’s true. Other than the blatant, half-assedly inserted heteroromantic partner they gave Ahsoka in, like, idk season 3??, Ahsoka is a fucking goddess. From her origin as a wee baby in the earlier seasons who didn’t really know what she was doing and was a bit of a cocky brat, to how she matures and becomes wise, resourceful, and fierce in the later seasons, I just love Ahsoka’s design and character to this day. The episodes that stick in my mind aside from the obvious are when she’s possessed by the Dark Side of the Force on that Force balance planet and her arrogance becomes so exaggerated that she threatens and attacks Anakin, her teacher. It was so fucking cathartic. Normally female characters, let alone young protagonist female characters, are never allowed to show the ugly sides of themselves in fiction, since women are always portrayed as perfect beautiful majestic angels or some bullshit like that. (Or they’re cocky/sexy/slutty villain women. ‘Kay then.) Seeing Ahsoka devolve into her basal desires and come out of it like hardly anything happened and she’s still a perfectly valid character was so amazing to see on a meta level; it wasn’t about her learning a lesson or anything, it was a thing that happened like any other character and then they moved the fuck on. I also distinctly remember the episode where she was trapped on that island/planet and she had to take out the aliens that were after her all by herself. That was so fucking empowering to watch and god fucking dammit I need to rewatch this series now. And of course, let us not forget the fact that the entire time, we were all expecting Ahsoka to just be another domino in Anakin’s downfall -- and she was, but not through the refrigerator -- but through walking away from it all. That was so powerful and moving -- and heartbreaking. By the end of TCW, her character carried weight and agency in the narrative, and god, I only wish whoever wrote her could write more female characters in the future.
8. Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Maybe another surprise, but I think she deserves this spot. Tigress is a female character who starts out as kind of an antagonist, given how she outright tells Po to leave the kung fu temple within the first day of him arriving. She’s even jealous of the fact that he’s chosen as the Dragon Warrior rather than her -- but that’s due to the backwash of years of trying to live up to the memory of Tai Lung in order to please Shifu (which means “master” in Chinese but ok I’ll shut up now), her master and mentor over the years. She never says this out loud in the movie, which is what makes her character more believable. Others even joke about how stoic she is (and not in bad taste). Her character development is definitely present for those who are looking -- but I put her on this list because I’m so happy the movie doesn’t make it some huge dramatic emotional thing, because so often in media women are depicted as being overly-emotional and here Tigress is just a hurt child trying to make her mentor happy. But, she gets over it, her and Po become allies, even friends to each other -- she and Po talk like equals in the second and third movies, and she even tells him to back out of the fight with Lord Shen and he listens (I mean he doesn’t stay put but he doesn’t undermine her opinion either lol, like most jokesy protagonists of Western media would -- looking at you, Marvel). I like Tigress because she’s an antagonist without being a bitch, she’s powerful without being overpowered, and she’s not sexualized despite being a well-trained, at times jealous, and even emotionally awkward kung fu master. And I almost forgot to mention the best part: There is never an indication of romance between her and Po, or any other character, for that matter. She’s perfectly capable, complex, and lovely on her own terms. And that’s that on THAT.
9. Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit: I wanted to include at least one character protagonist from a live-action movie/book, lol. I feel like Bilbo’s pretty self-explanatory. He doesn’t wanna go on an adventure because he likes his doilies and warm sheets, but then Gandalf seduces him with the call to the outside world and possible death (LOL), and he fucking goes for it, grumbling the entire time. Isn’t that what any of us would do if given such a proposition? I like to think so. Bilbo obviously has his own gradual, evil transformation with the One Ring, becomes murderous and uses it to disappear, and grows a strong bromance with the King Under the Mountain (which happens in both the movie and the book), but I think what I like about him is that he really feels... down-to-earth? Like even though the adventure changes him, it never feels like he’s been stretched in a way that makes his core character traits of grumbling and bluntness disappear. He gets better at the whole adventuring thing, for sure, but he remains Bilbo, at least, to me, throughout the journey. It was heartwrenching watching him try to save Thorin in The Battle of Five Armies, honestly, but Bilbo’s the kind of character that I feel like has his own story and mythology aside from The Hobbit, and maybe that’s just the result of J.R.R. Tolkien writing the lore for every aspect of his universe, but My Point Still Stands. He feels like his own man apart from the series he’s in, yet he’s still so much fun in his series.
10. Barley Lightfoot from Onward: And last, this one is because I saw Onward yesterday and was pleasantly surprised by the characterization in it -- and anyone who thinks differently can kiss my *ss. :) I was not expecting the movie to take the twist of fleshing out the “annoying” (more like adorable) overconfident nerdy big brother. Normally those characters are swiped to the side because God Forbid The Comic Relief Have Any Sadness In Them. I was expecting the movie to focus on Ian’s journey to meet his fatha and that the movie would pull something stupid at the end like “oh actually there’s another phoenix gem underneath the school” or “actually since only his legs appeared then you still have 24 hours with him” or some shit like that, but I guess this isn’t an anime so those absurdist explanations wouldn’t hold water anyway. But still, for a kid’s movie, I was NOT expecting this movie to go so hard with the characterization. For once, the main character doesn’t get what he wants at the end, and instead realizes it’s his big brother, Barley, who’s been looking out for him his entire life. Meeting his dad would betray that reality. What happens instead is that the lovable big brother never actually said goodbye to their dad before he died, because when their dad got sick, said brother ran away from the hospital room in fear of all the life-sustaining equipment. (Is this some meta thing about Chris Pratt and Guardians of the Galaxy? Off topic and call me stupid, but I didn’t realize Chris Pratt plays him until I saw everyone freaking out about it afterward on Tumblr laksjdflak.) So instead, the lovable big brother talks to the dad at the end, and unconfident younger brother grows confidence and thanks big bro for being with him his entire life. It was so touching, dude. I cry. But the moment that sticks in my mind the most was when Ian was crossing the invisible bridge... Ian needed to have confidence in himself to be able to cross over a chasm in their path, and Barley knew that if Ian didn’t believe in himself, he would fall and die. They tie a rope around Ian for good measure, and Barley encourages him the entire way, but halfway over, the rope comes loose and slips off. Barley sees this and starts panicking, but of course continues to encourage Ian so that Ian will get to the other side. What got to me wasn’t the fact that he faked it for Ian, but that there are actual tears running down his face as he’s encouraging Ian to get to the other side, because he knows otherwise Ian wouldn’t have the confidence and would fall to his death. Like dude, that raw, complex emotion in a kid’s movie?! DUDE?! I was fucking surprised. The clear anxiety and grief in Barley’s face as Ian’s totally clueless and even dancing around in the air was just too much, omfg. Of course, then it’s played off for laughs, but... I guess that makes sense for the annoying overconfident nerdy big bro character. :’)
Okay these are way longer than I anticipated and I’m sorry, but also I’m really not. Hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts on my favs!
Seems I don’t talk to that many people on here anymore: @stupidbluejay @mirycactusito @chronicstarlight
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