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blackholelynn · 1 year

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I DO NOT KNOW IF YOU TAKE REQUEST BUT I SAW UR WRITING FOR TWILIGHT AND IM BEGGING YOU, CAN YOU DO LIKE THE READER GETS DRUNK N EDWARD HAS TO TAKE CARE OF THEM OR SOMETHING !! I LOVEE YOUR WRITING BTW

Princess Carriage

Summary: You have a few too many drinks while out with Angela and Jessica, leaving Edward to be the one to take care of you while you sober up.

Pairings: Edward Cullen x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I ended up getting caught up in some stuff irl which meant I couldn't finish the Twilight Appreciation Week event that I was hoping to keep doing, but I will take any excuse to write more for Twilight! And I am finding myself loving writing for Edward!! So I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥰

~~~

Bass boomed around you, filling your chest with a dull thrum at every beat. The lights above you pulsated with different colors. Your arms felt sticky with a mix of sweat and whatever had spilled on the bar earlier in the night. The small glass pinched between your fingers held a pink liquid that you didn’t remember the name of, but it tasted like sweet berries and nothing like alcohol. That might have been why you had drunk three or four in the last hour without a second thought.

The sound of garbled speech hit your ears, and you turned in bewilderment to Jessica, standing beside you with a large grin. “What?!” You had to scream to be heard over the music.

“I said!” she started, grabbing your glass out of your hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”

A childish pout formed on your lips as you reached for the glass, but no matter how many times you thought you had grabbed it, you must have missed it by an inch. “Please! I paid for that!”

“Actually, a guy paid for it before getting shot down so hard I thought he might cry.”

“I’m taken, but that doesn’t mean I won’t accept a free drink.”

Jessica tried to stifle her giggle to remain stern but failed. “Okay, I’m just as guilty. But seriously.” She regained her disciplined facade as she put the drink back down on the bar and hooked her arm with yours. “I think it’s time to get some bad food and call it a night.”

You hadn’t realized how drunk you were until the mention of food made your stomach do a backflip, and you shook your head adamantly. “Maybe we just go home.”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best. Let’s go get Ange and blow this place.”

You followed closely on Jessica’s very high heels, making sure to keep a hold of her. The staggering amount of people you had to walk through hadn’t fazed you before, but now that your head was spinning, it felt like walking through a fun house.

When you reached Angela, your head was swimming so much that you couldn’t concentrate on what your two friends were saying to each other. You only registered Angela’s relief at the prospect of leaving, and then you were all bee-lining it to the exit.

Once you got outside, the cool air quelled the nausea that started crawling up your throat. Angela and Jessica helped you into the passenger seat, and it was obvious to them how awful you were feeling. Jessica got in the back seat behind you and put her hands on your shoulders.

When Angela started the car, she quickly glanced in your direction. “Are you feeling alright?”

You silently shook your head, groaning a bit when the motion caused your nausea to come back. A rustling noise came from the backseat before Jessica handed you a plastic bag.

“Always prepared,” Angela quipped with a sheepish smile.

You leaned your head back against the headrest as the car started moving. “Thank god for that.”

Angela dropped Jessica off first, considering her house was the closest of the two. However, when she started turning around in the driveway, you realized that you shouldn’t go back to your house like this. You were sure that your house would be in an uproar if you arrived home close to being blackout drunk, and in the spur of the moment, you made an alternative decision.

“Ange,” you started, still hesitant about the choice. “Do you mind driving me to Edward’s place?”

She stopped mid-turn, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure? I don’t know…”

“I don’t want to go home like this.” Seeing she was still not convinced, you added, “And I know he wouldn’t do anything. I’ll even call him to make sure it’s alright.”

She took some time to contemplate before she relented and nodded. You pulled out your phone and called Edward, already having him on your speed dial. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Is something wrong?” His voice seemed erratic, and you could only imagine what was running through his head. You had never once called him at this hour of the night.

“No,” you assured him, “I just wanted to know if it was alright if Ange drove me to your house. We were…out. I don’t want to go home.”

The silence signaled that he had the whole situation figured out. It wouldn’t be hard, considering your slurred speech. His lack of response started to create dread within you. Was he upset? How could he be upset with you for having fun?

“Do you need me to get anything for you? How are you feeling?” But he wasn’t upset. His voice was tender and soft as he asked.

You let out a small sigh of relief. “No, you don’t need to get anything. I’ll feel better when I see you. Ange is driving me there now.”

“I’ll meet you both at the end of the driveway and drive you the rest of the way.”

“That’s probably for the best.” You were about to hang up before you tacked on, “Thank you for this. I love you.”

He let out a light-hearted chuckle on the other end. “Anytime. I love you too.”

Your head felt airy when you hung up your phone, holding it to your chest with a dopey grin. The car started moving again, slowly inching towards the road.

Finally, Angela spoke up. “I’m taking it I can drive you over there?”

“Yeah, he’ll meet us at the end of the driveway. Oh, take a left here.”

Angela heeded your directions, and you couldn’t miss the smile on her face. “I’m glad you have him. You practically light up just by talking to him on the phone.”

You sheepishly put your hands up to obscure your face. You were sure you still looked like someone in an ad for a dating app with how wide your grin was. It wasn’t anything that could be helped, though. Edward always had that effect on you.

You continued to give directions (the best you could, considering how drunk you were), and after only a few wrong turns, you managed to pull up to the Cullens’ driveway, where Edward’s silver Volvo sat waiting for you like a carriage. He wasted no time coming to your door and helping you out into the cold night, thanking Angela profusely.

“Just make sure she’s sober enough for our brunch tomorrow, or Jessica will kill me,” Angela pleaded through her open window.

You gave her a weak thumbs up with the arm that wasn’t clutching Edward’s middle for dear life. With that, she seemed assured enough to drive back onto the road and into the night.

Lowering yourself into the Volvo, you looked at Edward with a smile, “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

“I would give that honor to Angela since she got you here safely, but I’ll settle for being your prince,” he answered cheekily. He kissed the tip of your nose as he leaned over to buckle your seatbelt.

You snorted and swatted him on the shoulder. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. You’re making me want to take back all the nice things I was going to say about you.”

“I could drive you home inste–”

“No! Nope, you’re absolutely the best anyone could ask for. Just get in here and drive so I can sleep.”

He laughed and got into the driver’s side of the car. The short ride back up to the Cullens’ house was long enough that you started to nod off, so when the car stopped, you didn’t even want to get up.

Edward opened the door for you, and he effortlessly scooped you into his arms when he saw your drowsiness. “You’re acting like a cranky child. You know that, right?”

“Mmm,” you muttered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t care.”

“I don’t even want to imagine your headache tomorrow morning.”

At this point, his amused words fell on mostly deaf ears as you fell deeper asleep in his arms. You didn’t even register how fast he had you into bed, with mere seconds passing before you were safely tucked away under the covers.

He was just about to leave to get you a glass of water when you clutched his shirt sleeve. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t be long. I promise.”

“You better,” you mumbled, reluctantly letting go. It was always interesting that he would let you hold him still, and he didn’t just break free from your grasp. He could do it easily enough no matter how hard you held on, but nevertheless, he would always stay until you let go.

Edward was only gone for the time it took you to blink, and he was back in the room, setting down the glass of water and a bottle of over-the-counter pain medication on the nightstand beside you. “I always keep my promises.”

“Yeah, just shut up and cuddle.” You pulled your arms out from under the comforter to make grabby hands at him. You were sure you looked ridiculous, but you couldn’t be bothered at that moment. Honestly, it was a miracle you were still awake and coherent.

He didn’t protest or say anything else, aside from laughing a bit, and crawled into the bed beside you. He made sure to lay above the comforter in the hopes that it would keep him from making you too cold throughout the night. You draped your arm over his middle and latched onto him before immediately falling asleep.

And he was right. Your headache the following day was truly awful. It had to have been the headache from hell because you could hear everything as soon as you woke up. And all that noise hurt worse than anything you’d felt in a long time.

He noticed as soon as you stirred in your sleep, noting the scrunched up expression on your face. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Headache,” you rasped out. You didn’t realize how dry your mouth was until you tried to talk. Before you could ask, Edward handed you the glass of water he had prepared the night before. The cool liquid soothed your throat instantly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And here, take some of these.” He gently laid two pills into your hand. “Those should help with the headache.”

You quickly took them, grimacing once they were down. “I don’t think I want to get out of bed at all.” You reached across him to set the glass back on the nightstand before deciding that you’d like to stay like that, so you laid across him lazily. “Everything hurts.”

“Too much alcohol will do that,” he teased, rubbing your temples with his cold fingers. The relief was instant, and he had a self-satisfied smirk on his face after your hum of approval. “You do remember that you have brunch with Angela and Jessica?”

You groaned and turned over onto your back, turning your face towards him. “I don’t want to go. Jessica’s the one that dragged me out last night.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to blame her for how drunk you got.”

You frowned but conceded, “No…it’s not. But I still don’t want to go.”

“Angela was adamant about me getting you to that brunch.” When he still hadn’t convinced you, he added, “I can drive you there.”

“In the Volvo?”

“Yes, in the Volvo.”

You playfully pretended to think about it. “Hmm…so you’re telling me I get to spend extra time with you and show up in an expensive car? I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he chuckled, picking you up as he escaped from the warm confines of the bed. You giggled as his cold hands held your waist, and he set you down in front of the dresser that had some of your clothes in it. “Get dressed, so I don’t have those two angry with me.”

You laughed even harder at that statement. “You’re afraid of Angela and Jessica? You?”

“Yes,” he answered with finality. “They’re intimidating.”

You both were now laughing before Edward finally calmed down enough to leave the room, allowing you to change. You opened a drawer of the dresser, your drawer, and picked out the outfit you wanted to wear for the day. Your whole body still felt like you’d gotten hit by a truck, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Even when you overdid it, Edward was always right there by your side. Through thick or thin, he was there. How had you gotten so lucky?

The honk of the Volvo’s honk snapped you out of your daze, and you looked out the window to see Edward leaning against the car. When he saw you through the window, he motioned towards the car as though it were a carriage. You rolled your eyes and made your way downstairs, endlessly happy. Edward truly was your prince, although getting you to admit it to him would take a bit more work.

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quaritchsbunny · 11 months

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Z-Dog/Zdinarsk as a Yandere (hc styled fic)

Wc: 4.9k (watch this flop because it’s so obnoxiously long idk why it just grew itself into a full blown pic)

Warning/Tags: yandere behavior, slightly toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, f!reader x zdog, medic! Reader, recom!reader, mature language, a bit graphic description of an injury including blood and flesh degredation, a bit of forced touch, i have no idea how actual injuries work please just go along for the purpose of fiction, zdog kinda being an asshole but she’s just been through it, unhealthy obsession, zdog is just in denial for half the fic, biting, enemies (kinda) to lovers?

A/N: My second fic ever and first time writing for a female character ahhh! I really don’t like the way I wrote this one but what can I say I really tried my best, I hope this is to your liking anon! Welcome to any comments and requests!

Extremity Scale : 3.5/5

Type of Yandere: Obsessive, Worshipping (unknowingly), manipulative, slightly sadistic

- Zdinarsk is what others would call a heartless beauty

- Although masculine with her striking mohawk and exhibits of tattoos that spread like blooms throughout her newly blue body, the soldier had been endlessly pursued by RDA officials, scientists, comrades, male and female alike despite her cold attitude

- And one by one without a clench of her jaw on the monotonously sweet bubblegum she always seemed to be chewing, she had laughed callously before turning them away, mind focused solely on her occupation as a recom soldier

- On the battlefield, she was ruthless.

- Shots were fired without a second thought once she held her aim, and whether it was a gun, arrow, knife, or chain in her hands, her cold amber eyes didnt allow for a second of compassion before she made her kill.

- Zdog wasn’t afraid of pain, her many colored bold tattoos on various parts of her body displayed hours of needles that had penetrated her with ink, yet she adorned them like it was a part of her.

- It was all these qualities that made her a worthy comrade to officials and authorities like Quaritch and her trust recom team, valuing her professionalism, tolerance and bravery.

- Her cool exterior seemed to be impossible to break, it seemed to be part of her personality, even her closest comrades in the squad never saw her portray any emotion other than callous joy at the aspect of conquest or the neutrality she seemed to carry with her everywhere.

- Because she never saw a need to feel anything other than that, what was the point? Any other emotion wasn’t going to pay her, being soft or sympathetic like the RDA did for her cruelty when it was directed towards the natives. And damn a soul who bothered to try to entertain her romantically, that shit didn’t touch her heart or her body in the slightest, she stowed away the young part of herself that dreamed of connection with a person that can understand her and instead suited herself to a form in which she didn’t care for the affection of others.

- It was nothing more than a waste of time to her, Zdog had considered emotions to be consuming and useless, and when she wasnt out scouting with the recoms in the thickets of pandora, her little free time was easily passed in the thick leather sketchbook, her fingers thoughtlessly skimming over the thick sheets, nails digging in the cursed piece of charcoal (it was the closest thing to a pencil, the sick RDA officials only had office pens as an alternative) as thick lines formed into her next tattoo design

- As such, the only emotion Zdog really felt except for callousness and the joy of victory was minor annoyance.

- Annoyance towards anything that wasn’t needed, such as the resourceless parts of pandora, the tears of mourning that came with death, the lack of efficiency from any comrade, such things only wasted time and got in the way of the ultimate goal

- Which was why she particularly despised you.

- You were a recom too, but not a soldier

- You were a healer, just as you had been as a human, you had died healing the RDA soldiers that were wounded in the war between the navi and RDA

- And for whatever reason, the RDA had insisted on adding you onto the short list of people to recombinant for a new blue team on their return to Pandora, arguing that your healing skills were essential to survival

- Why did the scientists waste their time and resources putting you into a recombinant body, and then waste the fuel putting you in a cyro and shipping you all the way to pandora?

- Why were healers a thing anyways? Zdog’s scars always healed on their own, fuck the bandage or the cream. The only way to truly heal, as learned from multiple experiences Z-dog had, was to expose the damn bleeding scar to the air and let it bleed until it learned to close its own weeping mouth. The body has to heal eventually, it's why so many organs exist just to keep bood pumping.

- So the first time Zdog had unfortunately stumbled across a carnivorous plants in the thickets of the annoyingly damp forests of pandora, skillfully targeting her right bicep as it sank its teeth into the beloved inked arm of the unsuspecting soldier that was leaning across a tree, it was to both her and your misfortune that the colonel had sent her straight to you with commands of healing and treatment.

It was the first time you have received a patient since your arrival to the new RDA base, and your eyes widened when the outraged female was thrown into the ward, her upper right arm’s flesh seemingly curving inwards like the chunk of flesh was deflated from the bite.

“Colonel, I’m fine, a couple painkillers and it’ll be good as new” she barked, fangs bared as she tried to keep in her tears of both anger and physical pain, tearing through her like wildfire.

Colonel Quaritch only threw you a look of firm command as he commanded “do whatever you gotta do to get her arm good, and take your time, she’s not coming to missions for two weeks”, the colonel turned on his combat boots, leaving you alone with the hysterical soldier

Zdog whirled angrily, shocked and disoriented as she had never been off duty for that long. Reaching for the Colonel to come back before her head reeled from the fresh shots of pain up her raised arm, her blood dripping onto the bare silver floors of the ward.

You acted on instinct upon seeing the spurts of blood, rapidly bunching up gauze as you pressed into the wound, sitting her down on the bed.

Zdog hissed angrily, her body thrashing as her arm shook due to the huge amounts of loss of blood as she cussed incoherently, channeling her anger in attempt to stop you from wasting her time

“It’s people like you that make injuries worse, you don’t need to interfere, the body heals naturally, that’s the whole purpose for recombination, not that you would know, fucker who took on blue to do absolutely nothing”

“You’re right” you say calmly “the body heals naturally, just like how it was also that carnivorous plants nature to sink its teeth into your bare arm”

The glowering female soldier says nothing as she glares back, watching you as you unwrap the towers of gauze upon her wound.

You ignore her profanity and swiftly inspect the wound after pressurizing the opening to avoid amputation, the ink from her spilling out and blending with the dark blood as it swirled on her indigo skin.

Zdog cursed her heart as it beat rapidly, trying to look anywhere other than your knowing eyes that meticulously scanned her marks of injury, reassuring that her sweat and rapid shaking was from the physical shock and not the way your lips pursed together in expertise as you reached to grab disinfectant

Without warning, you poured the disinfectant on her wound after retracting as much blood as possible, the burn of the alcohol hurting almost more than the damn plant’s bite as it spilled into the marks, cleansing the indents from the vicious carnivorous plant

However the sear the disinfectant brought was a tickle compared to the rapid fire spreading amongst her heart, pumping blood rapidly at your firm touch on her arm and the whiff of sweet cherry she caught as your head whipped to place the disinfectant back on it’s shelf and disappeared behind a cabinet, digging through creams and bandages

Zdog had told herself it was only a natural reflex, her body trying to react to to pain as it sped it’s organs up, swallowing thickly as the your sweet scent left her surrounding, leaning forward from her resting position on the bed to catch it again

“What a medic, abandoning your patient like that” Zdog scuffs, the popping of her bubblegum breaking the silence in the room

“Please lay back Miss Zdinarsk, rapid movement will cause more blood loss” you reply as you approach her again, her eyes immediately mellowing when your sweet scent invades her again

“No one calls me that anymore” she breathes out, biting back her huffs of pain as you press the q-tip of healing cream into the cleaned wound, circles rubbing along the raw flesh. “Z-dog, or Z works”

You nod, leaning back as you rest the q-tip on the silver tray as you reach for a bandage. “Well Z, luckily there's no signs of infection, I suggest regular icing to increase blood flow to the area and less intense use of that arm” you lay an ice bag by her non injured arm.

“For how long, this is the arm i shoot with, i’ve actually got shit to do”

“Depends on the speed of your muscle recovery, for humans though, it would be at least 3 weeks before you can do lifts with that arm again without permanent tissue damage” Your fingers worked nimbly, wrapping the bandage around her toned arm

Her relaxed form suddenly seemed riled up again as the words came out of your mouth, frown etching its way on her face as she growled. “I’ll be fucking damned”

“And because the bite had drawn your blood out of that part of your flesh, your tattoo ink had also leaked out with it, so that might be distorted, if not gone” the bandage was pressed with care before wrapped with another layer of gauze.

The cold buzz of the AC in the ward almost did nothing to combat the way her face heat up as your palm pressed the bandage in place with medical tape, before she remembered the proper emotion she was supposed to be feeling, rage, not whatever appreciation she was developing towards a person that only made her future work inconvenient by dramatifying the injury

“Listen Z, I’m only here to help, I know this is a frustrating situation, but the only thing you can do is to rest, and if there’s anything i can do to help in your recovery, please tell me” you say, your recited script towards angry patients such as her prepared as she kicks herself off the bed, stalking towards your form as you explain softly.

“Listen up miss nurse, I didn’t need this. I’ll be going out to the mission and I’ll be doing whatever I like with this arm that you only damaged more with your shit medical proceudure.” She growls angrily, the blood loss from the injury and your scent making her head spin with confusion.

Why did she have the urge to pull you into her, to feel your sweet scent closer, what is this strange undertone to her anger?

You say nothing as her non-injured arm slams her first into the wall behind you, her bubblegum scent ghosting over you as she towered, tail swishing excitedly as her tone said exactly the opposite things

“I didn’t ask for this, the recombinant bodies heal faster and I don’t need your false pity, and maybe you’d know if you actually did anything other than sit in your pretty little ward, so i’m gonna fucking show you now”

What she did next shocked you, it hadn’t processed in your brain that her single hand had somehow made it to pin both of your arms above her and you were only able to see the flash of her mohawk as a warm spotch bubblegum was spat out. And before you even had time to squirm in response, you felt fangs sinking into your blue neck much similar to the way the carnivorous plant had done to her arm, but with surprising tenderness

Zdog had no idea what she was doing, no. She did. She was doing this to teach you a lesson, to demonstrate how the recombinant bodies worked as you clearly had no idea. She wasn’t doing this because of how much she indulged in the fluttering in her heart and stomach when she tasted the softness of your skin, the addictive feeling of your flesh on her tongue.

No blood was drawn, her saliva connecting her to the bright mark as she pulled away, still glaring at you as she inhaled sweet cherry rapidly, savoring the sweet taste of your flesh and laughing against your collarbone as she heard your cry. Damned the way her body relaxed like a cat as she retreated.

“And you’ll be paying for that tattoo that i lost” she said matter-of-factly, boots sliding across the floor as she slammed the door to the ward, leaving you dazed, confused, and the mark on your neck burning as her brown queue swished out of sight, the ice bag chunks rattling like her heart on the way out.

You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed your little scuffle with her, you couldn’t help it, feeling the magnetic attraction the soldier exuded from her built form and confidence. And even if deep down you knew it was wrong, you’d be stupid to report it to anyone in the RDA, the recom team was basically the backbone of all the physical operations holding the establishment up, they wouldn’t hear a recombination nurse out if it meant the best to them

Zdog returned to her quarters, jaw empty of the bright pink bubblegum that frequented her mouth as she rolled her tongue around her teeth, trying to memorize the way your flesh felt around them.

In her mind, gnawed a voice, telling her to apologize to you, to see you again, to thank you

Her head reeled with swirling new emotions that she swore were useless as she layed on her bed pried open her sketchbook, trying to sketch an image of you, memorizing every feature before she realized her dominant arm was in too much pain.

She huffed frustratedly, before throwing her head back to her pillow, and icing her arm

Whenever she had been injured before, her comrades had laughed at her weakness, taking it as a chance to demote her position or belittle her for feeling pain, along with the fact that she had been a female, it had caused her to be pushed around.

But you? No “get over it”s or belittling laughs, just words of genuine advice as your fingers pressed gently into her wound, smoothing over the years of mistreatment she had received, and whether it was rehearsed from years of expertise as a medic or genuine care, your sweet cherry scent made it all too confusing to distinct.

Now all that filled her head is the sound of your sweet voice as it reassured her and your form in the white medic robes that softly pressed against her cargo vest.

Reminiscing, she lifted the ice bag, tracing the bandage where your delicate fingers had graced upon her arm, and a smile made its way upon her face unknowingly.

A brilliant excuse to see you again creeped its way into her mind as she ripped off the bandage, admiring the way you had folded it intricately as she held it to her chest, her heart beating rapidly.

I need to see her again, I need to, and I will no matter what.

Deep down she knew it was not needed, but two weeks off with an injured arm called for routines out of the ordinary.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just do something useless for once, the anger would be just as time consuming as the weird feeling of attachment she felt near you.

She slept disturbingly well that night, the cloth held close to her chest as she dreamed of tied hair, marked necks, and sweet cherries.

Despite not having duty, the responsible soldier still awoke early to send off the colonel and the rest of the team, still holding back her complaints when the colonel shook her head, telling her she wouldn’t be any good with her shooting arm injured before he assigned her to stay at the base.

As soon as the recom helicopter lifted off into to pandora sky, she skipped excitedly to the mess hall, where breakfast was being served, cherry red gum popping in her mouth as she scanned the room for a particular blue medic

Her heart seems to sink stupidly when not a single other blue form was seen in the room, her jaw tightening around the cherry gum as the flavor seemed to taunt her

That’s right, this is what you deserve for being such a impulsive asshole, indulging yourself in emotions that waste more of your time, and wasting even more energy walking around to find her

You see the agile female’s tail swishing curiously from miles away, you approach her, squinting when you realize she doesn’t have her bandage from yesterday

Zdog’s jaw immediately falls slack when she smells it, her heart racing, reciting your name, as it sends her stepping back towards the source, almost knocking into your form.

“Back so soon?” You tilt your head towards her bare arm, scar breathing without the bandage

“Looking for you nurse, just needed another bandage, you didn’t anchor it enough and it fell off when I was sending the squad off earlier” Zdog says fluently, rehearsed words from her practiced scenarios ready for whatever response you have

You only raise your eyebrows, chuckling as you led her back to the ward. Not that you were really a faster walker by any chance, the soldier made a strong effort to take smaller strolls to admire your beautiful form from the back, the sweet swirls of tenderness and affection filling her as her heart pounded louder and louder as you sat her down to bandage her, almost 10 times as intense as the way it had felt yesterday

Correct to Zdog’s assumption, the scar had indeed healed a lot faster than you had expected, though her arm was still sore and healing, the wounds had closed up a lot faster than expected

You raise your eyebrows when you see that her scar has healed fast, leaning back as your eyes scan over it

She gulps almost nervously, voice coarse and low as she mumbles “what’re you lookin at, nurse, get on with it”

“Maybe you were right, recombinant bodies really do heal much faster, i doubt you really even need the bandage” you say hesitantly, as if questioning your own healing abilities

Zdog’s eyes widen as she reaches out for you, fingers around your arm as she tries to sound as threatening as possible, but her words coming out as pleas instead ``Nope. You’re a medic aren’t you? So do your job and bandage me, or else I can get you fired and on your way back to earth” she had plotted this with so much meticulous thought just to feel your fingers on her arm again! It surely can’t go to waste, she was gonna go out and find another carnivorous plant if she had to

You smile softly, chuckling and the sound goes straight through Zdog’s ears into her heart.

What is this fluttering feeling? Why won’t it stop?

“Where’s this compliancy coming from, you barely let me do anything yesterday, Ms. I have shit to do with this arm” you sit down and twist the cap off the healing cream, grabbing another q tip

Zdog rolls her eyes naturally, although she cant help but open it faster when she feels the rub of the soothing cream on her arm, amber eyes trained on your experienced movements

“If I really wanted to get back, maybe I should heal in the right way so I can do shit faster” she muses, fingers tempted to run themselves down your delicate queue and spine that was exposed to her as you leaned to heal her

You blink, sighing as you reach for the gauze “I think you were right though, maybe these procedures are only damaging it more, maybe it needs to just breathe. Are you sure you need the bandage?”

Zdog nods rapidly, her bold neck tattoos becoming a blur of black and blue as she spits out, trying to keep up her shell up and ignore whatever was swirling in her heart an brain “What do you think? Does that arm look anywhere near healed to you? Do you want me to walk around unbandaged and get a worse injury?”

It wouldn’t hurt to just indulge in the useless things a little bit, processes that only really waste time if it’s with you. It wouldn’t hurt to just have it on if it meant your fingers would grace my arm everyday

“Plus, I’m sure the only reason the lil nasty’s recovered this fast is because of your speed and expertise in treating it yesterday, don’t question your skill” The sentence hopped out of Zdog’s mouth almost unknowingly, and she almost wanted to bash her head against the wall. What did she say that for? You didn’t need reassurance, reassurance was for people who didn’t know anything, people who needed others to walk them along

Before her thoughts become more self deprecating, your laugh echoes through the ward, the cold silver and white walls suddenly becoming welcoming as you shake your head, anchoring the gauze in palace on your arms

“Flattering, but I really mean it when I say I think you may have been right about recombinant bodies healing faster” you lift your neck, bearing the mark that was violently purple yesterday, faded to a shade of lavender with the fang indents like marks of violet.

Zdog swallows, feeling both guilty and in a weird way, proud when she sees the mark.

“Yeah about that, that’s my bad, I was pissed and out of my mind because I’ve never been told to stay off duty yesterday, being out all day in that damp jungle heated my blood, and I may have been tryna prove a point about recombinants but that was completely fucked up and unnecessary”

she looks down at her lap, 9 feet body suddenly feeling like she was a young human girl in the marines again, disappointing her sergeant for not being as strong and capable as they expected

You set down the gauze gently and lean down to peer at her, her downcasted gaze unable to see the slight blush on your face “I’m not gonna say it’s okay to bite a medic that was trying to treat you, but you’re lucky it was me, I didn’t mind it that much, and it really did prove a point that recombinant bodies heal faster”

Zdog nods quickly, happy as she detected no anger in your voice. “Never trying that again for sure though”

“The world’s medical field is in danger if that's what you act like to everyone who tries to treat you” you chortle

For the rest of the day, Z-Dog spent time helping you maintain the ward as an extended apology to her behavior yesterday as she continued to indulge in the honey like emotion that came with being near you

- Through the next week, the ward seems to grow warmer and more homey every time Z-Dog visits (though by the first four days, her arm was completely fine, she found excuses) unknowingly, Z-Dog began to sink in the feeling of the previously useless emotions, letting it consume her until she was wasted in love

- Without knowing it, morning visits for rebandaging had turned into long conversations where Z-Dog healed more than the injury of her arm, but burns and bruises of her childhood and life as a female soldier that was constantly undermined, you saw that her hard exterior seemed to be a essential part of her that she needed for protection

- And to be honest, Z-Dog didn’t think really about what she said to you or how she said it, words just flew out of her mouth as the soft feeling of trust and affection drifted over her, your understanding gaze and comforting words binding you together like a web

- The bonding had quickly grown into something wordlessly essential and romantic, things Z-Dog always used to qualify as a waste, but now just like her cold exterior, the soft moments where your hands interlaced as she talked to you about her past seemed just as natural.

- She was almost always in contact with you, physically, whether it was the ways her eyes followed your every move or the way her hand was always by your hip, shoulder, head, it became a constant

- She followed you everywhere in the guise of protection in return for you healing her and never let her eyes off you

- And even when you were busy or actually did have other RDA matters, they seem to come cancelled last minute on short notice (because even the officials knew not to mess with a injured recom soldier that was defending the organization), and you couldn’t just leave Z-Dog alone, her words always seemed to have a way of wrapping themselves against you

- “You’re gonna leave your injured patient waiting alone like that when she’s in pain needing medical attention? Wow, I thought you cared about me”

- “You still owe me for the tattoo, yknow, so it might be less financially burdening in the future if you treat me well right now”

- There were many late nights where Z-Dog had opted to stay in your quarters instead of hers, arguing that she slept better and healed faster, her sketchbook filling up with doodles and intricate charcoal lines with details of you. Her beloved muse.

- Back in her own quarters, folded along her sketches of you were her past bandages, as well as hairbands she stole from you, keeping everything that you had touched or interacted with like a piece of magical artifact organized like a shrine upon her nightstand as she put them under her pillow, sleeping well to the thought of you.

- Two weeks had passed by and her arm was as good as new, as the two of you only grew closer and closer, the romantic attraction was undeniable, your blue tails tangled together as her arms sneak around your waist while you you documented her healing progress at the ward

- Until one morning the cool, brazen female soldier was gone, leaving you alone and confused in your empty bed before you realized that her duty had begun again. The past weeks had been nothing but a vacation and relaxation for her, and now that she is back on duty you could certainly expect to never speak to her again. It was all probably just a sort of short term association with her

- The day passed in a sort of a weird haze for you, strolling around the base without the sight of your certain badass soldier you were infatuated with

The night after her first day on duty, rapid knocks sound at your ward door as you’re working overtime, trying to distract yourself from your attachment with Zdog. Distraught and confused, you rush out of your seat in your white robes as you open it and see the female soldier, bright as ever

“Oh? Come to visit after ditching me this morning?” You say, a bit salty as you step back, suddenly noticing a bandage on her upper arm again

Z-Dog only looks at you, pupils filled with affection and joy as she laughs “Actually, I need help with my arm again”

You blink back an eye roll, used to the intentional injuries she sometimes did to recieve more medical attention from you as you wordlessly sit her down on the bed like many nights before where you guys had laughed, cried, kissed, and loved as your nimble fingers unwrap her bandage.

The white gauze falls away and under the soft glow of your examination table light and your eyes are busy scanning for cuts, violet reds or blood, or dark bruises that you almost miss it at first

Black, bold, yet slick and elegant letters curve around her blue skin, replacing the faded and distorted tattoo that had once been there, thick and bold as the ink is fresh, you can almost still see the puncture of the needles that she so willingly sat through and for hours before she had rushed up to your door, the shock in your eyes blurs your vision until you focus in and make out the letters of your name, with a tiny, clumsy heart identical that you had doodled on her sketchbook nights ago next to it

“Z- what is this” You breath in awe

“Well, you were the person that helped my arm heal the fastest, and parts of my heart as well, so why not dedicate the new area of skin to you instead of redoing a boring old tattoo” She chuckles matter of factly, pulling you into her lap as you continue staring at in awe

“Oh Zdinarsk” You gasp, tears blurring your vision as you look at the huge bold letters

“You never paid me back for the one I lost though, so how about a deal” She looks up at you playfully, true unfiltered joy in her once callous eyes

“Be my girl? My personal nurse, hm?” She asks cooly, thumbs smoothing over your ears as if her own heart wasnt pounding through the heavy cargo vest she wore for duty

And when you nod happily as she pulls you into a kiss of many to come, she realizes in the moment that yes, love wasn’t entirely necessary, and neither was her tattoo, or opening up to you, or the feelings that overtook her when she held you to herself proudly the next day as she introduced you to the squad, arm still firm around your waist as if to mark you for herself

None of it was necessary, and yes, maybe she was wasting her time, her love, her emotions. But even love was nothing more than a waste of her time, she would gladly waste it all on you, over and over again.

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tracybirds · 7 months

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"snoozeville" with Alan? (although that's normal for him, so if you're not sure what to do with that, I don't mind if you pick someone else instead)

Thank you for the prompt and for your patience :D Alas, Alan's pov for this one wasn't quite working, but I hope you enjoy this alternative :) (now off to snoozeville myself!)

snoozeville: [character] falls asleep somewhere that isn’t their bed.

---

Scott groaned, shoving away the reconnaissance reports as he scrubbed at his eyes. The dim light of the tablets formed an oasis in the inky dark and the villa was silent but for the faint crash of waves against the cliff. The night was clear and calm and he padded over to the windows to gaze out at the rippling reflection of the moon above. The stars twinkled as he picked out constellations, the instinct from his scouting days as present as ever. He winced as he spied Orion in the east, its steady rise enough to tell him how late the hour had become.

He yawned, turning off the tablet screen and making his way up to his room by the light of his communicator.

The habit of checking in on his family hadn’t always been as compulsive as it was now, but Scott didn’t think it did him any harm. It was needless reassurance perhaps, but at each door as he listened to soft breathing and the murmurs of dreams, he could feel his own heartbeat starting to slow.

Gordon’s room was closest to the lounge, with John’s opposite, to compensate for their sunrise and nocturnal activities respectively, so as not to disrupt the heavier sleeper in the family.

Scott nudged the door open, suppressing a smile to see Gordon sprawled across the bed and hugging a pillow with one arm. The aquarium light through the water gave the room an eerie glow like a underwater grotto. This was as silent and still as Scott ever saw his brother and he took a moment to enjoy the peace.

He backed out of the room quietly and turned to John’s room. He laid a hand on the solid oak door to ground himself, knowing John wasn’t there and resisting the urge to check all the same. A small part of Scott felt guilty not including him in the nightly ritual even when he was absent, but John loathed any perceived invasion of his privacy and it wasn’t worth the inevitable argument when EOS tattled on him. So he compromised, hand on the door, and called up Thunderbird Five.

“You’re late tonight,” observed EOS. “He’s already asleep.”

Scott grimaced, remembering the long, arduous evening he’d left behind.

“Tell him I’m sorry,” whispered Scott. “I lost track of time.”

“He worries.”

“Ditto, then.”

EOS said nothing and Scott sighed.

“I’ll catch him tomorrow, I promise. He’s really sleeping?”

“Three hours and seventeen minutes. He has entered his third sleep cycle tonight.”

“Good,” said Scott softly. “He needs it.”

“So do you, Scott Tracy.”

“Goodnight, EOS.”

He shut down the call without waiting for a response.

Alan’s room was dim and dark, carved into the side of the mountain with no natural light except from that which was funnelled down through the rocks as a skylight. These provided a link to the outside world, the sky and stars that he loved, and a much needed release from his endless video games.

Scott peeked in, hardly noticing the empty bed. It has been a long time since he’d given up on wrestling his youngest brother into bed each night and Alan genuinely seemed to prefer the floor. Scott wrinkled his nose at the musty smell, making a mental note to ask Alan to do a spring clean of the place. There was no sound, not even Alan’s usual quiet snuffling, and Scott frowned, stepping forward into the room fully.

“Allie?” he called softly, picking his way across the floor where gaming gear lay abandoned and dirty clothes were strewn wildly. The moonlight shone through the skylights, illuminating the empty space where Alan normally slept.

“Alan?”

Scott swore to himself, his heart rate spiking as he hurried into Virgil’s room.

“Virgil,” he hissed, “Virgil, wake up.”

“Whaa-?” mumbled his brother, one hand already groping for his comm as he struggled upright. “Is there an emergency?”

“Alan’s gone,” said Scott. “He’s not in his room.”

Virgil blinked blearily at Scott.

“Oh,” he said. “Alan’s in your bed.”

Scott froze.

“He’s what?”

“Yeah, I guess he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Virgil shrugged. “You looked busy. Don’t worry I took a look at him. Just needs rest now.”

Scott felt the words slice into him, although he knew Virgil was merely stating fact, not placing blame.

“Thanks, Virg,” he said, swallowing down the guilt that stuck in his throat. “Get some sleep, I’ll look after him.”

Virgil grunted, asleep again before his head touched the pillow and snoring lightly as Scott turned out the light.

He crept towards his own room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Everything was organised with military precision. The only anomaly was Alan, and Scott felt carefully for him before climbing into bed.

Alan stirred beside him, curling into Scott’s chest as he wrapped him in a gentle hug.

“Hey, sprout,” said Scott. “Not feeling so good, huh?”

Alan shook his head silently.

“What type of hurt are we dealing with?”

“Throat,” whispered Alan. “Head. Everywhere.”

Scott held him close, humming as he thought.

“Virgil said he gave you something? When was that?”

Alan shrugged.

“I can get you something else,” began Scott, but Alan shook his head once more.

“Please,” he croaked. “Just stay. And sleep.”

Scott thought he could do that.

[feel free to send me a prompt plus a character!]

(yes I still have a fair few to write but they're so fun!!)

#scott tracy #sometimes i fic #thunderbirds are go #alan tracy #idk there's a few in there #have fun <3 #fanfic 🥰#scott 💙#alan ❤#2015 #family feels #h/c #sleepy sleeps 💤#thunderbirds #collected works (mine)

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vianwrites · 2 months

Text

So, I decided to continue with that previous Trimberly fanfic I did? And, this time it's on Kimberly's side of the story...so, yeah...ended up making it multi-chapter? Sort of? I'm not really sure how well I am doing with this, but I hope I am doing well.

Anyways, here's the second part/companion piece to Eyes Open (Trini's Version). The title of this one is Jump and Fall (Kimberly's Version)...and, yeah, pulling titles from Taylor Swift's discography because, why not? Will be postin this on AO3 and Wattpad as well. Anywho...this fic goes like this:

Kimberly Hart sat at her desk in her room, the soft vibrant hues of the cloudy afternoon sun basked her room with enough light that she didn’t need to open the lamp by her desk. She sat there for a reason, had been seated at her desk for much of the afternoon already. And, in all honesty, she should have been focusing on the opened textbooks in front of her, on the notebooks strewn haphazardly on her desk, on school assignments demanding her attention. But they ended up all fading to the background, like they were unimportant set pieces. Instead of diving into algebraic equations or historical dates, grammar and the proper use of punctuation, Kimberly found herself lost in a maze of thoughts and emotions as she tapped to a random rhythm with her pen.

It had been a whirlwind these past few months—months that felt like years. A whirlwind of emotions and events. It had been months since she made that brash and reckless action—some would call it a boneheaded move, a social suicide—that ended up destroying her reputation, getting her status as the ‘Queen Bee’ revoked and made her a pariah in school. That led her to a path she never dreamed would even be one possible to trudge on. It was so impossible and fantastical and something straight out of a comic book. It also led her to people—outcasts and misfits, like herself—that she would form a connection with. To people she would call her “family” and would call her theirs.

If she were to be honest, it felt like a lifetime ago. She felt as though the person she was then and the person she was now were from two different alternate universes. And, in the midst of all the drama, all the training and the struggles of trying to morph and the disappointment and frustration that came with failing to do so, witnessing a friend die and be revived, and almost dying herself in the process of defending their town...yeah, she would like to think that she had changed quite a bit. All the Rangers—Jason, Billy, Zack, and Trini—had.

But, in the midst of her thoughts of her journey as the Pink Ranger thus far, there was one thing that stood out to her as clear as daylight: the surprising bond she had forged with Trini Gomez, the Yellow Ranger. It was, if she was being honest, she had never thought Trini would be her closest in their friend group. After all, Trini wasn’t exactly easy to get along with. At least, not from the start.

The lonesome girl had been wary of her, and for good reasons. Still, they did end up getting along and now she considers Trini her best friend and knows the other girl thinks of her that way as well.

Suffice to say, it wasn’t the first time the Yellow Ranger wormed her way into the other girl’s thoughts.

Still, no matter how many times it has happened, it always managed to surprise her. She wasn’t doing it on purpose, so it wasn’t something she comes to expect at times or even sought after. But, regardless, it always had a way of creeping up to her. Sometimes it came slowly and insidiously. Other times it came like a freight train that comes barreling with such unstoppable speed and force. Regardless of how those thoughts invaded, they were always impossible to ignore. There was just something about Trini—her strong sense of individuality and fierce independence, rebelliousness to conforming to societal norms and social hierarchies, the confidence she seemed to carry that belied her years, and the juxtaposition she found with her hardened facade to her soft caring attitude.

She was captivated by the way Trini carried herself; captivated by the way her lips would quirk into a genuine smile—often a rare occasion to others, but one that had become somewhat of a norm recently whenever they have hung out together; captivated by the way Trini had been treating her as of late.

And yet behind that ruggedness that she showed and the lone wolf attitude she had initially portrayed, Kimberly found a multi-faceted girl that drew her in, like a moth to that proverbial flame.

When Trini was with her, Kimberly couldn't shake the feeling of solace and peace she felt. It was like a warm embrace, a fluffy blanket of comforting presence in the midst the hectic chaos that their life had become. At the same time, there was always something lingering—like a spark just about ready to ignite—whenever they interacted, making her feel something akin to an adrenaline rush. Kimberly found herself seeking out Trini's gaze, drawn to the warmth and depth of her brown eyes, deep and soulful.

As the Pink Ranger sat there in her room, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt that way about Trini. Why did she crave Trini's approval, seek out her company, cherish each interaction they had together? Why did she feel a sense of loss whenever Trini wasn't around. Like a piece of her was, not necessarily incomplete but, missing? It wasn’t like that with the other Rangers. And, to be honest, she doesn’t remember it being the same way with anybody else. Well, there was somebody else, but that was before he cheated on her and—

—And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her.

This undeniable attraction she felt towards Trini was more than just admiration, more than just respect. It felt like it had morphed—pardon the pun—from something more than just friendship and a sense of camaraderie. It was now something deeper, more profound; something simple but yet oh so complicated. Something she had never felt before with another girl.

She had feelings for Trini. Feelings that went beyond platonic, more than just mere friendship.

The thought terrified her. Her mind couldn’t quite wrap itself around such an epiphany. She had never considered herself anything but straight. She had never entertained nor imagined the thought of being attracted to another girl, much more falling in love with one. But, as she sat there in her mess of a room it, strangely and jarringly, made undeniable sense to her, like puzzle pieces being put in quick succession into place.

It frightened her as much as it elated her. It made her heart skip a bit and thundered between her rib cage. Her chest constricting and breath hitching at the realization of her own desires; of acknowledging the possibility of her own queerness and sexuality and of the path her heart had suddenly decided to open up for her.

As she wrestled with these conflicting emotions, she caught glimpse of the photo she had tacked on the wall near her desk: the photo of the Power Rangers, taken as a group, during the celebratory campfire they had after Rita’s defeat. Her eyes gravitated and fixated themselves on Trini standing next to her in the photograph, grinning widely, skin glowing with the light of the campfire’s flames, and memories of her interactions with the shorter girl flooded her mind—from their first exchange and the chase that followed and every memory since.

But one memory stood out above all others: that night at the campfire.

In the midst of Zack’s suggestion to share about themselves—a proposition that irked Kimberly at that time despite what merits may be gained, what with not wanting to talk about the whole Amanda-thing and the shame that came with what she had done—in the hopes that they would trust each other more and be able to morph, Kimberly witnessed the strength and resilience beneath the tough exterior of one Trini Gomez. She saw the vulnerability and uncertainty hidden behind Trini’s bravado. After all, it takes quite a lot of courage to speak up about one’s insecurities the way the shorter girl had.

In that moment, Kimberly had felt a sense of awe and wonder at Trini, whom she initially thought was just someone with a lot of pent up rage and angst personified in such a small body. She felt something begin to form with the Yellow Ranger and with her desire to try and emulate such strength and get to know Trini further, get her to share more, to open up more.

That connection solidified itself and grew into actual friendship when Trini pulled her locker door out of its hinges after it had been vandalized and had offered her own locker for Kimberly to use. It was an act that she didn’t think she would be receiving from anyone. Certainly not something Trini would instigate without much egging. Granted, she didn’t know much about the girl at that time, but up until then Trini was pretty much aloof with her. They talked, yes, but she didn’t get a sense that the girl had any desire to be protective of her outside of their training until that moment. So, yes, that had come as a surprise. So much so that she distinctly remembered herself being at a loss for words.

And now, as Kimberly sat there in her room, her heart heavy and wrestling with longing and uncertainty, she couldn’t help but wonder what it now all meant for her. Did she really crave for something more? It did feel that way. Did she want to do something about it? More importantly, does Trini feel the same way? Does she want to risk what she had with Trini in favor of what they could have if the feeling was mutual? What would her parents say? What would everyone think? So many questions, one after the other, bubbled up to the forefront of her mind.

Any other day and those questions would have been ones she would be avoiding for weeks, pushing it to the back of her mind in favor of what little bit of normalcy was left in her life. After all, things were changing too fast, she wanted to slow down a bit. But now, there was nothing to occupy her mind with. It was simply fixated on the possibilities that lay before her...that was, if Trini did feel the same way.

And, she knew she was reckless. She knew it was, perhaps, her fatal flaw. Her recklessness was often tied to her emotional state—on what she was feeling at the moment and that energy being converted into some spontaneous action. It was that recklessness that often landed her into all sorts of messes in the past, and would no doubt continue to do so in the future. Especially when she does something without fully analyzing the consequence her actions would bring to herself or to others.

It was that sudden impulsiveness that had Kimberly reach for her phone, unlock it, and with trembling fingers type out and send a message to Trini without so much as second guessing what she was doing.

“Hey Trini, can we talk? It’s important.”

Yeah, if things went south, she could blame it on that. Or own up to it with the fact that one of the things she had learned with this whole ordeal with Rita was she shouldn’t take things for granted; that when the time to act came, she must be decisive about it, act on it. No regrets. Because you only live once, and once should be enough.

As recent as the revelation of her feelings for her best friend was, Kimberly felt it was time for her to come into terms with them, to explore them, to understand them and herself. And who better to do that with than Trini? She just hoped the other girl felt the same way.

As the three dots appeared on her messenger signifying Trini writing a message, Kimberly felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins.

Yes, this was uncharted territory for her. She didn’t know where this would lead her. It was the same with becoming the Pink Ranger and, well, she’d like to think she handled that as well as it she could—maybe even better than she think she would, all things considered.

Yeah, positive thoughts and all that.

With that thought in mind, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, only opening them when her phone notified her of Trini’s reply.

“I’ll be there in a few,” it had said.

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noaltbruh · 1 year

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Hi! Congratulation for the 200 followers! I've seen you've got a lot of asks for this event, and that shows that so many people love your writings!

Mind if I join the celebration? May I request 💭 ❗️👐 💍⏳ for my favourite himbo JoBros Okuyasu and Polnareff (yes I consider Pol as a JoBro) with f!reader?

Again, congrats to the 200!

Thank you thank you!! 😭💞 and I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, school's been really rough lately and finding time to write hasn't been easy.

Also Pol is not a Jobro, he's the whole ass protagonist of part 3 😤💕

Hope you enjoy :)♡

💭 How do they imagine their future with their S/O to be like?

Okuyasu just...Wants a simple future for the two of you. This boy doesn't ask for much and doesn't like to carefully plan his life, he prefers to go with the flow and just see how things evolve over time. You can figure the details along the way, it doesn't really matter to him as long as you're by his side.

He'd really love to form a family with you though, to be the good father he never really had. I feel like he gets along with children very well, and he will treat both you and them like you're his most trusted treasure during your entire marriage.

Also, kind of random, but I think that Oku would want to become a chef after high school and probably open his own restaurant. Because of this, he's always fantasizing about you coming to visit him after work some day, as he prepares for you the best meal you'll ever have.

~~~~~

Polnareff's future is...Way too idealistic lol-

What can I say? This man is an hopeless romantic, he seems like the type to believe in fairy tales about love. He wants the two of you to have a perfect life, where nothing ever goes wrong and you're always happy and together.

To be fair though, he will work the hardest he can, so that so you'll be able to have the closest thing possible to what he had originally in mind. Pol Pol is very devoted to you and your relationship, he'd be perfectly happy even if he was the only one to work and you preferred to become a housewife.

However, this man has sworn to himself one thing: he will always support and help you through any decision you may take in life. No matter what, he'll be right by your side to make the journey easy for you, don't ever doubt his commitment to you.

❗️How would they surprise their S/O?

I feel like there would be two occasions in which Oku would most likely try to surprise you.

A- either school has just finished and he's thought of something cool to do that you would have never come up with. Or...

B- there was no reason at all for this, he just felt like it one day and now you're going to join him. No, it is not negotiable.

If he wanted to go with something safe, he'd probably just get you a game or a book he knew you would have liked, so that you could play together. He knows your tastes very well.

Alternatively, he'd buy tickets for the first train he could find and take you sightseeing for an entire day to a city you had never been to before. And before you ask, yes, he's just as clueless as you about the place you are in. Good luck.

~~~~~~~

First of all, Polnareff loves surprisingly you so much. He loves your excited look whenever he does something you didn't expect, and he doesn't want your relationship to become too...Static, or ad he calls it, "boring".

I think Pol Pol would most definitely try to surprise you through either acts of service or gift giving...Or maybe even both, he'll go no any extend to impress you, honestly. He thinks it's a nice way to always remind you that he truly cares about you and that he'd never give your love for granted.

Immagine this: you've just come back home from a long day at school/work, only to find out that your house has been perfectly tidied, there's a bouquet of flowers waiting for you together with a nice home-made meal. Can you guess who is behind this?

👐 what sort of things would they like to match with their S/O?

Okuyasu would like to match so many things with you, he's just so proud to have you as his girlfriend and he wants to show it off as much as he can.

You have so many options to choose from, honestly. You could match plushies, and be assured that this boy would hug his one any time you're not near him, pretending that's actually you. Same Okuyasu, sane.

OR, you could match something related to your outfit! Maybe you could wear his iconic dollar pin and he'd add something to his look that reminds him of you :)

Also you two would definitely have those "If lost, return to Y/N" / "I'm Y/N" shirts.

~~~~~~~

Polnareff would definitely be the one to ask you to match things with him. It's something he's always wanted to do as soon as he got a partner, it makes him feel like you're more of a power couple and he thinks it's just a sweet gesture in general. Moreover, he wants you two to stand out, he just loves to show off.

I think he'd basically beg you to match his heart shaped earrings with him. He'd give you one half and would refuse to take his off, no matter the time. Even during stands battle, he uses it as a reminder on who he's fighting for.

He'd be so happy if you always wore it like him, but he won't pressure you into doing so, he wants it to be a spontaneous gesture for you as well :)

💍How would they propose to their S/O?

It's funny that you asked this question, because Okuyasu has no clue either lol-

Whenever the word "wedding" comes up, the only thing he's able to think of is how beautiful you'd be in a bride dress, how he can already feel his eyes filling with tears as soon as he sees you walking down the isles, and how he'd vow to live you for the rest of your life.

...In his head. It's too bad that he's going to need a small reminder that, if he wants this to happen, he'll actually have to propose to you. That is when he actually begins to go into a spiral and realizes how scared he is to actually take this step. What if it's too soon? What if you you don't accept? What if he makes a fool out of himself and trips while trying to get on his knee?

With some advice from his buddies, however, he'll muster up the courage to take this step. I believe he'd propose to you, unlike how it's usually done, in the afternoon or maybe even in the morning, on top of one of the beautiful hills of Morioh, surrounded by a stunning view of the entire city.

"Y/N...Maybe I'm rushing in doing this, m-maybe I'm doing something wrong a-and I haven't even realized it, but...This has always been my fear ever since we...Got together, b-but you never made me feel like I messed up! Sweetie, when I'm you, I feel like...I actually matter, l-like I'm more than just a dumbass, and...You don't know how happy this makes me, how happy YOU make me. I...I really love you, Y/N, and uhm, i-if you take this, I'll keep on loving you forever and ever! So, will you...Will you marry me?"

~~~~~~

To be honest, the Crusaders probably had to stop him from proposing to you way too soon at least, like, three times or so. He just thinks with his heart rather than his brain, and sees marriage as the ultimate way to make your relationship as authentic as possible.

When the time actually comes around to ask you the infamous question, this man just cannot wait. He's spent enough time dreaming about it to know how to put his plan into action, and he has no hesitation whatsoever. He knows what he wants, and that is you and you only, no time to worry or rethink.

He'd propose to you in one of those immense gardens of flowers in his hometown, he wants everything to be as romantic as possible and to leave you absolutely baffled.

"Ah, mon amour...I don't think you understand how long I've been yearning for this moment. We were destined to meet, tu comprends ce que je veux dire, n'est pas? Of course you do, chéri, you're the most brilliant person I've ever met, after all. And you're so much more than just that, you are...My true love, my other half, what makes me complete. We were always meant to be, and the ring I'm holding if the proof of it. Will you give me the honor of marrying you?"

⏳How long would it take for them to fall for their S/O?

Okuyasu probably already had a small crush on you even before he actually met you, if he somehow saw you walking down the school halls sometimes. He's quick to fall for someone and always thought you were pretty, so you had already won him over before even knowing it lol.

When you do actually begin to talk, this boy will only get more and more convinced that he's in love with you. Everything you do or say just pushes him to think that you're the one, especially if you show him kindness.

He may try to push his crush on you aside a little, since he thinks you'd never reciprocate his love, but he's the kind of person that just can't keep his emotions at bay, and his feelings for you will come out soon enough, before you even know it.

~~~~~~

Alright, let's he real here: Polnareff wanted to marry you since literally the first moment you two ever met. Yes, he does have the habit of falling in love way too quickly, but he was right at least this time. He just knows you two are a match made in Heaven and sees no point in "taking it slow".

Depending on how quick YOU are to fall in love, you might as well get together with him a week after you two met, to be honest. But, of course, he's not dumb entirely and can take a hint, so if he notices you just see him as a friend for the time being, he'll respect.

100% won't stop bragging about how he knew from the beginning that you would have become a couple, as soon as you actually do. He doesn't care if you think he's extra or way too dreamy, when he says this, he means it.

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green-and-grey-kenaz · 2 years

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Sirius and why he was left in Azkaban - A Meta

One of the issues of Sirius is why those who knew him decided to leave him in Azkaban rather than to ask questions. So let’s dive into that.

The most obvious answer is everyone believed Sirius to be ‘The Spy’. At the time, Dumbledore and the Marauders had had a tip off that someone close to the Potters was a spy. Canonically, we know: James believed the tip off to be false, Sirius believed it to be Remus, and Peter knew it to be him. Remus says in Prisoner of Azkaban ‘And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?’. As a kid, I always read this as Remus believing Sirius was the spy after the death of the Potters but there’s no reason to suppose that Remus may not already had suspicions about Sirius during the war.

It may be that Sirius is viewed the most likely by Remus because by logic, it cannot be James or Lily, it cannot be himself and that leaves the choice between Sirius and Peter. The same may be implied for Sirius suspecting Remus. However, it is worth noting here that the tip off was someone close to the Potters, and not a Marauder. Remus and Sirius leap to the assumption that it is the other despite the possibility that the Potters had other friends. We may be seeing a more active form of assumption (rather than it can’t be Peter), so what are all the events that could make Sirius look guilty up to his final being framed by Peter, that are not mentioned in canon but might otherwise be inferred. As always, feel free to add or counteract me, I’m always happy to read other views.

It may be that Sirius was considered the most likely spy because he’s related to a lot of Death Eaters but...

In 1979 (roughly two years prior to the Potters deaths), Sirius lost his brother, Regulus. Judging by his behaviour after James’ death (a touch erratic, insane, I must commit righteous murder), he may not have taken this well. We know he investigates Regulus death and that Sirius figures out a narrative close to the truth. So, let us look at how this may have played out.

Based on how Sirius reacted to Peter (admittedly, Sirius feels personally responsible, but he may have felt likewise for Regulus, the idiot brother he left behind), I could see some of Sirius’ investigations as being... similar in nature. We know from Snape’s Worst Memories and the time Sirius told him how to get into the Willow, that Sirius can have a cruel streak to those he thinks deserves it. Therefore, it is not out of the realm of possibilities that he may have been a little... enthusiastic in his detective work. This may have made people in the Order less certain about him, yes he’s going after Death Eaters but do they agree with his methods? Do they seem a little dark?

Or, considering even Voldemort did not appear to know of Regulus’ fate, did Sirius talk to Regulus’ closest friends and family in order to find out that his brother was trying to back out? They are the ones most likely to pick up on changes in behaviour and personality and thus allow for the inference that he was having second thoughts/regrets and was thus killed on Voldemort’s orders. The best way to get this information is likely as a grieving brother as it requires rather more sympathy than violence. As those closest to Regulus are likely to be dark arts leaning, if not Death Eaters themselves, to the outside world, it may look like Sirius was getting a little chummy with the other side.

This ties in to my next exhibit: Lily’s Letter to Sirius, found in his room in Grimmauld Place. The question being... why is the letter there? One explanation is that post imprisonment, his belongings may have gone to his surviving relative, however, in light of the possibility that he had to talk to Regulus’ close friends and relatives, an alternative does come to light. Sirius may have had to get closer to his mother. They may have been on speaking terms, she left the house to Sirius in her will. It certainly would have advantaged the Order to have someone within the sphere of pro Dark Arts but not necessarily Death Eaters. If this was the case, again, people may have feared that he’ll be taken in by his family’s ideology.

Finally, those in the Order believed Sirius was the Secret Keeper. We also know that Hagrid knew where to go to find the Potters, implying he was at least in on the secret, which could only be told by Peter. As we know Dumbledore revealed Grimmauld Place by letter, it may be possible that this was done for the Potters. But Sirius, with his subterfuge, may have suggested Peter write the information down in Sirius’ own handwriting. This would have certainly helped cement Sirius’ guilt in many people’s minds.

So what does everyone else think? Any other reasons for why Sirius was automatically accepted as guilty? Was it as simple as Peter framed him or do you think there were other factors making him look more guilty?

#Sirius Black #Regulus Black #James Potter #Lily Potter #Peter Pettigrew #Marauders #Marauders era #Harry Potter #Azkaban #Harry Potter meta #Sirius Black meta #Kenaz's thoughts

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munson-master · 2 years

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At the Château | Steve x Reader

Chapter 2: And I feel Just Fine

summary: Steve is worried, there's a Russian plot to foil and you meet robin for the first time.

TW: mentions of blood, slight physical abuse, spoilers, canon divergence.

Chapter: One

❀✿❁ ᛬❊☙❤︎❧❊᛬ ❁✿❀

You had been sitting in the star court mall parking lot for about fifteen minutes trying to get yourself a little more presentable and a little less like you were having a mental breakdown. Even though that’s what you felt like, like you were literally losing your mind. Your mom, your own mother had just put you in a chokehold and tried to drug you. All the while your sister and her shitty “boyfriend” just sat there and watched.

Honestly, you weren’t sure if this was even happening right now because no matter how horrifying things got in Hawkins it never came to your home. Never touched your family, the rest of the Holloways being blissfully unaware as you battled monsters from an alternate dimension and secret government experiments gone horribly wrong. The biggest problem your family has was trying to figure out what to have for dinner and whether or not your dad would come home pissed off or not.

Perhaps you were jumping to conclusions, maybe this wasn’t some horrible aftermath of the upside-down bullshit you became used to dealing with. Maybe there was another explanation, maybe your mom wasn’t trying to drug you, maybe you were just so tired from the drive across several states that your anxiety manifested in an abhorrent way. Or maybe your asshole dad finally pushed your mom over the edge, and she went nuts. But that didn’t explain Heather and Billy or why they were cool with the rotting food and disaster that was your home.

He was always so supportive during your phone calls, always willing to listen and share his thoughts but if you were being honest, you weren’t this close with him just a year ago. What if he thought you were nuts and you ruined the great relationship the two of you had been building? You hate to admit it, but he was quickly becoming one of your closest friends, tying with Nancy who you shared an irreplaceable bond with after Barb’s death. He was charming and sincere, if not kind of dumb which only made you love him more. You loved your phone calls with him, loved making jokes and sharing gossip, loved how attached he was to his weird little band of mini monster slayers. How he never failed to step in and protect them and you. He always was the first to stand in the way of a threat, whether it was demo dogs or Billy Hargrove. And with that thought your mind raced back to Billy, why was he with Heather? Why was he in your house?? No matter what was going on you knew at least that Billy being there was bad news. You were there when he beat the literal shit out of Steve. You had his head in your lap while trying to clean some of the blood from his face as the kids formed a plan in the background.

If you took a moment, you think that night was what finally convinced you that Steve wasn’t really the asshole you were accustomed to in school. You watched him take on Billy Hargrove and get his ass handed to him just to protect both Lucas and Max. Kids that weren’t his responsibility, he could have walked away after the whole monster bullshit. Nancy broke up with him….he had no reason to stay in the crazy bullshit that came with being a part of your small little group but still he stayed. He helped when Dustin called you and him after getting no response from his friends. Recalling those memories brought you back to the present, Steve would help you no matter what you had to say. You knew it.

Slapping the sun visor shut, you pulled your keys out of the ignition and grabbed the bag of bloodied wet wipes before swinging the car door open. You had to find Steve, if you couldn’t get ahold of Nancy, he would know what was going on or at least help in some way.

Stomach clenching with worry you pushed through the mall entrance after dumping your trash into a bin just outside the doors. You couldn’t stop your mind from panicking, praying that he was at work, that whatever got your family didn’t get him too.

Finally, your wandering eyes spotted the Scoops Ahoy storefront and you quickened your pace to the shop. You pushed through a group of kids just leaving the ice cream parlor and immediately felt a wave of relief wash over you.

There he was. There was Steve, scolding Dustin for licking his ice cream scooper. Steve who looked totally not brainwashed, who wasn’t missing in action like Nancy.

A hysterical sob bubbled as you literally ran at him, wrapping your arms around his middle completely catching the young man by surprise. That definitely wasn’t what you had planned but the relief that flooded your senses nearly brought you to your knees. Guess no matter how you tried to talk yourself down you really were worried about him.

“W-Whoa! Excuse me?!” He yelped and moved his hands to your shoulders to push you away before actually recognizing who was squeezing the literal life out of him. It took him maybe two seconds before recognition lit up his eyes, a smile spreading on his face.

As soon as he knew it was you, he pulled you back into his chest, a blush rising up the back of his neck which Dustin saw and smirked at.

“Y/N? Holy shit! You're home early!!” He was so ecstatic that you were there at scoops he failed to spot the dried blood in your hair, the tremble of your limbs, or the tears in your eyes.

Dustin however did get the chance to notice, the kid was the sharpest little dude you had ever met after all. His eyes went from Steve’s slight blush to you which brought a small frown to his face. He immediately picked up on the blood droplets on your collar, the disheveled appearance of your clothes and the bruise that was forming on your temple. He spoke up just as Steve was letting you go, which you had to admit caused a small stab of disappointment at the loss of his warmth.

“Uh…y/n is that blood?” The words immediately turned Steve’s bright smile to a concerned frown in seconds. He pulled you back, hands still gripping your shoulders.

“What?! where?? What happened??” Finally taking in your downcast eyes, the blood on your shirt and in your hair. You watched as a handful of different emotions filter over his features, confusion to anger then concern finally arriving back to anger. His grip tightened on your shoulders causing you to wince which immediately had him removing his hands only to place one on the small of your back the other gently grabbing your wrist to lead you to the back of the shop. Robin still hadn’t come back with whatever she took the tip money for, but Steve honestly did not care about being at the counter at the moment.

“Dustin watch the front.” He ordered in a slightly harsher tone than he meant to as he ushered you through the door. Dusting nodded, muttering a short “yeah ok” before turning to the front of the store. Normally he would have complained, said something about working for free or doing Steve’s job but he was just as worried about you. It was strange but out of all the kids Dustin felt the most like a little brother, maybe it was the endearing relationship he had with Steve or maybe it was his brilliant mind and sunny disposition. You would absolutely never admit it, but you loved Dustin and Will in a way that Lucas and Mike could never match. The two of them felt like the kind of outcasts you were used to growing up as, felt like your own responsibility because while Mike had Eleven and Nancy and Lucas had Max and Erica, Dustin had you and Steve. You didn't know this, but he saw you as the older sister he never had too, cared about you in a familial way that he would probably never admit to. So, when he noticed the state, you were in the plans for breaking into secret Russian bases didn't matter.

Steve gently led you to the table in the center of the room, guiding you to sit before he turned and grabbed the first aid kit out from under the cubbies against the wall. You still hadn’t said anything, which brought his concern up another level. He opened the box on the table before turning back to you once again and kneeling in front of you. He gently gripped your chin, nudging your head up to look at him as he took stock of your injury and made sure there weren’t any others. He took a deep breath trying to rid himself of the protective fury that was building inside. He needed to know who hurt you and he needed to know now.

Steve was a protective guy by nature and when it came to his loved ones he would do anything to support them and keep them safe. So when he finally saw the bruise forming on your temple, the bit of dried blood in your hair, the way your eyes were red and puffy, he saw red. Whoever did this to you was getting a visit as soon as he got off work. It didn’t matter that he technically never really won a fight, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know the circumstances, all that mattered was that someone hurt you and he was going to find them and hurt them back. But that all could wait because right now you were sat in front of him, looking so shaken and broken. He never wanted to see the look of defeat and overwhelming anxiety that your expression held at that moment, and he would make damn sure it will never be there again. So he schooled his features, took another deep breath and spoke in a calming tone.

“Y/N….Y/N I need you to give me a name. Who did this to you? What happened?”

The question brought you out of whatever trance you were in. Honestly you hadn’t intended to cause such a big fuss, you were just so relieved to see him. So relieved to see that he was ok, that you had made it to him without any problems and he wasn’t some weird zombie person you were imagining the entire way to the mall. You pulled your head back and cleared your throat, back straightening as you wiped your eyes really quick.

“Uh my mom??” The way it came out sounded like a question, not because you didn’t know what happened but just because you had no idea how to approach the topic of your family becoming weird, possessed fiends.

“What?!” Steve on the other hand was immediately jumping to conclusions, his eyes wide and brows furrowed. He definitely didn’t expect that, he thought back to all the phone calls the two of you shared while you were away. You never once mentioned your home being an unsafe environment, you talked about how much of a dick your dad was, how sometimes it felt like you never existed, how you knew Heather was the favorite child. But never once did you mention physical abuse, and that had Steve feeling a pang of hurt at the thought of you not sharing everything with him when he so openly laid bare his soul to you over the past year. But now wasn’t the time, this changed everything because this wasn’t some guy he could go wail on after work. This was way worse and way more serious than some douche bag or a girls fight or whatever he thought it was before.

But before he could say anything else, you were blurting out everything. You told him about how you hadn’t heard from your family in two weeks, how Nancy wouldn’t answer your calls. You told him your decision to come home early and how when you pulled up to your house Billy Hargrove was in your driveway. You told him about the rotten food, and the disheveled state of your home. He listened to you intently, worry growing with each word, eyes narrowing at the mention of Billy and then going wide again when you had said your own mother put you in a choke hold.

The story you told didn’t make him feel better, if anything this was just progressively getting worse but he interrupted once when you mentioned the drugs and how you whacked your head on the table. “Holy shit what? WhAT?!” He ran his hands through his hair and paced back and forth in front of you.

“Yeah….I tried going to Nancy’s house and then your house, but you guys weren’t home. I even tried Jonathan’s, and no one was there either.” You explained as your hands gripped your knees. “I….I was so scared you wouldn’t be here...” those last words mumbled so quietly Steve just barely caught them.

“Ok…ok that’s…t-that is NOT good…” you could tell Steve started to panic a bit before catching himself. You watched him take two deep breaths before he reached for the first aid kit again. “Well, I am pretty sure Nancy is ok. I just talked to her recently and she was talking about some weird lady that hoards Mulch and like some zombie rats or something? I don’t know man journalism is weird. But I didn’t know about your sister and Billy. Do you …do you think it’s like some more of that weird shit that always seems to happen here? Or I don't know, like has your mom shown any signs of like a mental break in the past? ” As he questioned you calmly, he gently cleaned the cut on your temple before placing a band aid over it.

Before you could respond though Dustin poked his head through the window opening interrupting the two of you.

“Steve incoming!” He gave a short warning before a girl you had never seen burst through the door carrying what looked like blueprints?? She was wearing the same uniform as Steve which led you to believe this was Robin. Steve had talked about her a lot during your weekly phone calls, not that you were jealous or anything. That literally should have been the furthest thing from your mind, but you couldn't help recalling how you felt when Steve talked about the other girl. How he complained with fondness in his tone about the other young woman. How it made you feel like you were already being replaced when you had just gotten close to him.

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the county’s recorder’s office.” Robin was already talking as she came in but immediately stopped when she caught sight of you. “Really?? Right now, dingus?? Don’t you think we have bigger problems than your next failed attempt at getting a date?” She put one hand on her hip scolding Steve.

You tried not to be offended or hurt at the thought of Steve hitting on girls enough that Robin immediately assumed that’s what was going on. “U-um??” You began to defend yourself or Steve maybe? You weren't really sure, but Steve was already talking over you.

“Jesus Christ Robin shut up this is Y/N!” He quickly explained which had Robin looking back at you, something new showing on her expression that you couldn’t really read.

“Oh! Y/N! Nice to meet you! Are you breaking into the Russian base with us?” She had moved around to spread out the large blueprints on the table pushing the first aid kit to the floor.

“Excuse me? The what?” You looked from her to Steve before going back to her. What the fuck was she talking about? Steve never mentioned she was crazy, eccentric but not like certifiably insane. For a moment though in the back of your mind you were thankful for the distraction, not really wanting to dwell on your family at the moment.

“Robin what the hell?!” Steve threw his hands up in exasperation just as Dustin walked through the door.

“What? I literally told you I would come back with a plan to get us in. You talk about her all the time. I assumed you filled her in and that's why she’s here! I said I would be back!” She defended herself before explaining to Dustin that the blueprints spread on the table were of Starcourt itself. Meanwhile you were stuck on the ‘you talk about her all the time’ was that good? Was that bad? What did Steve say about you??? You knew this was literally the last thing you should concern yourself with, but you couldn’t help it. Steve of course interrupted that train of thought when he turned to you.

“Ok so uh I know you have a legitimate problem and it’s scary as hell but uh can we table that for just a moment so I can catch you up to speed. Since robin so kindly decided to spill.” He grabbed your hand and spoke softly to you, voice getting louder mentioning Robin. His eyes shot a glare her way which she just shrugged off.

“So, Henderson intercepted this like super-secret code with his x-men radio thing or whatever-” His voice getting cut off but Dustin who shouted over his shoulder “Cerebro!”

Steve rolled his eyes and continued, “yeah that, anyway he got this code and Robin cracked it with her like genius ear skills and then we were on the roof and saw the Russian guy’s load into this room and now we are trying to be American heroes by investigating and they want to break in somehow without being caught.” Steve was rambling at this point, and you were having a hard time following. Something to do about Russians having a base beneath the mall and a secret room or something like that. Your mind wandered a bit as he kept going on about their plans, maybe this whole Russian thing was the answer.

Maybe that’s what was going on with your family. Thinking back, your dad definitely was an asshole, but you didn’t think he was like a Russian spy asshole. You think you would have noticed if your parents were Russian spies. Or you guessed maybe you wouldn't that was the whole point in being a spy. Or maybe they did something to them? Or bribed them. Or threatened them or something. Used some weird Russian drug. Maybe that’s what your mom tried to give you??

As your mind was coming up with one ridiculous theory after the other Steve grew concerned with your lack of response. Looking closer he took note of how exhausted you looked, which sent a pang of guilt at the fact that he dragged you into this Russian mess when you clearly had some bad shit going on at home. He gently tried to get your attention, to hear what you were thinking.

“Ah! Sorry I was just …um … do you think that might be what’s going on at my house?” You asked him, looking back up at him, hands clenching the hem of your shirt.

“Uh what do you mean like…is your family working for the Russians? Are you even Russian??” Steve had his telltale expression of pure confusion while Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If they were Russian spies they wouldn’t like just come out and say they were Russian dude.” Dustin quipped which caused Steve to exhale loudly.

“Well, I don't know! How am I supposed to know anything about this!” His voice dropped lower when he turned back to you. “I mean it's possible I guess…” He trailed off, one hand rubbing the back of his head.

“Cool yeah whatever so are you in or what cause I got a plan.” Robin interrupted, turning to you, a slight grin placed on her face. You weren’t sure if you should be thankful for including you or pissed off that she was brushing over your concerns. Either way when you thought about it this was the best way to find answers. And Steve was going which meant if he went in and something happened you would lose your last life line and that was something you couldn’t afford or even fathom. Maybe you could find any kind of notes or evidence linking the Russians to your family, or some kind of research explaining what the fuck was going on I. Hawkins this time. You cling to the hope that maybe it was just an evil Russian ploy because that would mean it was humans you were dealing with and you’ve bested far worse than man itself. Humans seemed easier than interdimensional demons from tears in the universe.

“Uh in I guess?” You shrugged while Steve shot you a worried glance that you completely missed.

“Great! So! These are the complete blueprints of the mall…” Robin trails off bringing everyone’s attention back to the maps spread across the table. Dustin commended her with an impressed “not bad.” Which you had to admit was pretty clever of her.

You listened intently as she was explained and showed where the base was in comparison to where you all currently sat in Scoops. “I mean I don’t really see a way in..” Steve was staring so hard at the blueprints you wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a whole in them.

“There’s not. IF your talking exclusively about doors…” you immediately caught on to what she was suggesting.

“Air ducts!” You exclaimed while Standing with excitement to move next to Robin to look at the second map she revealed.

“Exactly” she smiled in your direction before continuing. “Turns out this room needs air just like any old room and these air ducts lead all the way… here.” Your eyes followed the red line, contrasting over the blue ones printed there. She drew a large circle around the targeted area and you clasped a hand on her shoulder.

“Holy shit you’re a genius!” You finally felt the excitement overtaken the worry and anxiety you had been feeling. The rest of the group turns their head to look at the vent up near the top of the back wall.

“Woah woah Woah. Wait before we go crawling through vents and whatever else, y/n we should clean you up and get you like some food to eat. You literally had the worst day ever so let's just pause for a second ok.” Steve turned to you with concern shining in his eyes as he tried to reason with you . You had to admit he was right, you haven't eaten since you left the motel you had stayed at during your trip home and that was coming up on 8 hours ago… it had been a looong fucking day. But still you couldn't help but make light of the situation trying not to bring the mood back down.

“Aw Harrington you do care. It's all good. I'll just like grab a new shirt downstairs and I'll be good to go.” You laughed it off while you awkwardly rubbed your arm as a distraction.

“Do you even have any money on you? Just let me take you to get some new clothes and food. Robin, can you cover for me for like an hour?” Steve stood firm on this insisting which you had to admit was just like him. He really was turning out to be the mom friend of the group which the thought alone made you chuckle. He also had a point in your haste to find him you had not thought to grab money.

You sheepishly looked back at him. “I mean …no. I do not have any money but I don't want you to have to pay for me. Besides, I really dont need new clothes, it's just a little blood. And I don't want to make them wait for a whole hour, it's not that important.” you argue back, not wanting to be in the way and also not wanting to waste any more time on trying to figure out what was going on. Despite you being much calmer than you were when you arrived you still had the image of your mother and sister sitting at the table, unsettling smiles adorning their faces. The longer you waited the longer it took for your family to do something horrible. What about Nancy if she really was just working, was she at work with your dad right now? Was your dad a part of this whole crazy mess? If he was, wouldn't that mean Nancy was in danger? All of these thoughts swirled in your mind as you came to the conclusion that anything you needed could wait until this was all fixed.

As you were lost in thought Steve looked from you to Robin with pleading eyes. Robin of course looked back with quick understanding, besides it would definitely suck if you passed out while sneaking into whatever evil Russian plot awaited the group. Steve mouthed a quick thank you her way before grabbing you by the wrist and leading you out the door.

Which of course you immediately began to protest, “Steve no wait just wait a second!” your words falling of deaf ears as he continued to pull you out the door just as Dustin shouted from the back.

“Hey grab me a churro!” his voice carrying out the door, steves hand still gripping your wrist let go briefly to flash a thumbs up his way before going back to your wrist.

You dug your heels in, finally forcing Steve to stop. “Jesus Harrington wait a second! Ok let’s compromise, I don't need new clothes but we can go grab food…ok?” You tried to reason with him hoping to cut down the time away from you getting your answers.

He squints his eyes at you before letting out a huff, finally releasing your wrist to run his fingers through his hair. “Fine. Fine but you're gonna eat like a full meal not just some snacks and we aren't going to talk about Russians or monsters or anything else ok.” He pleaded with you, which brought a genuine smile to your face. You really appreciated the fact that he was giving you this chance to relax without worry.

“Deal! Let’s go!” You grab his hand again and this time you're the one dragging him towards the food court, a smile plastered on your face. You knew he was just trying to look out for you and if you were being completely truthful you were grateful for the chance to escape your worries and dark thoughts that were swirling in the back of your mind.

Once you had ordered an acceptable amount by Steve's standards you followed him to a table in the corner of the food court.

“Ok Harrington this is way too much food how am i supposed to eat all this? You trying to put me in a food coma so I don't come with you to fight Russian super spies?” you joke as the two of you took a seat across from each other.

“Nope no Russian talk!” He quickly chastised you for bringing up one of the forbidden topics of this meal.

“We are going to pretend there's nothing wrong! No Russian Spies, No body snatchers, no upside down bull shit. So tell me how is your Gran?”

Steve wanted to give you a moment to breathe, to act like nothing was wrong for just a second. He knew the world ending horrors would be there after you ate, the two of you could take just this brief pause and act as if you were just coming home to Hawkins to find everything the same as when you left. Your heart warmed at this realization and you found yourself smiling down at your burger, completely thankful to have him there with you at this moment.

“Haha ok ok. Gran is good! Her new place is HUGE, she's insane, you know she bought a cow?” you laughed under your breath as you watched his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“A COW?!” he choked on the bite of food he just took, a grin growing. “Like a living breathing cow? The giant black and white things?? She's like two feet tall! What is she going to do with a cow??” He laughed and you couldn't help laughing along with him. You wish you could have shown him your Gran next to this giant creature ten times her size. Her little 4’11 self rubbing her face on it with a huge smile, pride glowing on her features. You will have to take him with you next time you go visit, it would be so funny to see Steve Harrington out on a farm in the middle of nowhere.

“Haha she says she could use the company, you have to come with me next time I visit, we could take Nancy and Jonathan and go on a road trip!” you excitedly rambled on, only realizing what you said after it already came out.

“I mean that is if you're uh cool with spending that much time with them…actually you know what nevermind that was a dumb idea haha” nervously chuckling you back tracked fast, realizing you just asked him to go on a road trip with his ex girlfriend and her new boyfriend she left him for. When you looked at him for a response though the only thing you could pick up on was the genuine fondness his expression held.

“No no that would be great! Maybe your gran can show me how to like milk a cow.” He calmly played along, easing your worries in one fell swoop. Which did the trick because if picturing Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington on a farm was funny, visualizing him trying to milk a cow was even funnier. You snorted, hads flying to cover your mouth as you laughed out loud.

“What? What's so funny you dont think I'd be good at it??” he poked fun, pointing a fry in your direction challenging you to say otherwise. This was so ridiculous, the whole conversation was so stupid and silly and exactly what you needed at that moment. Every worry you had, everything that had you stressed out an hour ago melted away as you just enjoyed the meal Steve bought you. Tension leaving your body, as the two of you continued to eat, talking about any and everything that happened while the two of you were apart. No talk of evil bullshit that had you in tears, just a genuine good time that left your heart warm and stomach full by the time the two of you finished up. After the two of you cleaned up your trash you made your way back to Scoops only pausing briefly to grab his hand pulling him to a stop just outside the entrance.

“Hey…Thank you really truly.” you tried to convey the gratefulness that was swelling up inside as he just smiled back at you.

“It was just a burger y/n dont cream your pants.” He sent you a wink and laughed as you slapped him on the shoulder. You knew your feelings were received and he knew they came from the heart.

“Now let's go save the country or whatever.” The two of you came back in to see Robin arguing with Dustin about whether or not he could fit in the air vent. Steve looked back at you, rolled his eyes and went to break it up.

Silly conversations about cows and the likes were put on the back burner of your mind as the group moved forward to the next part of the plan.

It was time to get your answers.

❀✌︎❀

A/N: I’m having a very fun time writing this story I’m excited to get to the more major parts but so far it’s been fun. As always thank you so much for reading and if there are any suggestions or comments you all have please send them my way it would be greatly appreciated ❊❤︎

Next Chapter

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #angst #at the château #steve angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington is a mom #steve x y/n #steve x reader #Steve Harrington x y/n #stranger things season three #steve stranger things

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mindsmade · 7 months

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home - aeren pulls sh closer until sh’s face rests in the crook of aeren’s neck

@weaveshadows / meme

The terror rarely ceases these days, but Aerendyl can find reprieve from them here and there. In a way, he's stumbled upon one such occasion tonight — and then silently retreated from it. That moment by the statue of Selûne was meant for Shadowheart and her parents, and he can only feel glad to have played some part in bringing them together at all, circumstances be damned.

He stands now in the abandoned chapel bordering their camp, casting a cursory glance at the broken statues, the ruined pews lying about, and the flickering candle flames every now and again. He spent a minute or two leaning against the altar before his thoughts veered elsewhere — away from the Hallowleaf family, their reunion and the aftermath they're faced with now, and towards that of his own.

In the absence of distractions, he thinks of the letter etched into his memory. His mother's sloppy handwriting was and is unmistakable, but that what it described bemuses him still. Aerendyl briefly dwells on the initial relief he'd felt upon receiving it, thinking her safe after all, indeed, but the lack of sense in her words swiftly whittles that sensation down to mild despair.

The answer as to why she'd chosen to reunite with his father now, after that momentous fall-out decades ago, eludes him. Their impromptu reunion said to only be lacking his presence might have induced unbridled elation in his ten-year-old self, but his present-day skepticism wins out every time he meditates on the matter.

Something is wrong. His first thought always leads to Orin playing games; his second leads to those accursed tadpoles. There are no alternatives — even if he tries to fool himself into thinking his paranoia's getting the better of him at last, and he can simply no longer recognise a good thing when he sees it. Reconciliation between those two was never an option.

Aerendyl snaps out of his thoughts and reaches a standstill amidst his pacing as the heavy wooden door creaks. He forgets what he was thinking about for a while, and he's all too content with that. There's a welcome distraction in studying what he soon recognises as Shadowheart's silhouette against the backdrop of moonlight pouring in.

❛ I hope my leaving didn't cause any offence. I thought the moment best kept between you three. ❜ He remains stock still in the middle of the aisle for another moment, briefly wringing his hands. By the time his hands fall to his side, Shadowheart's already within arm's reach.

'Are you all right?' Somehow, it takes until the second echo of her words in this vaulted building for him to register it. They form a simple question with a complicated answer, for he's beyond pleased to see Shadowheart reunited with their family ( despite any initial unease ). They have a future with each other in it now, and something to fight the Elder Brain that much more fiercely for.

But Aerendyl finds himself hoping the same might lie in his future, yet fears – expects – he will see any possibility for it shatter before his eyes.

❛ I'm not sure. Are you? ❜ He won't lie to her, and he expects she'll offer him the same courtesy. They're both navigating troubled waters now, even if the directions of the tides they sail vary all too greatly.

The absence of an instant answer begs a change of tactic. Perhaps not everything needs to be put into words; some things can simply be felt, rather than discussed. But he wishes to share and partake in the resolution of what ails them both, even if it proves only to be a temporary reprieve — and so he reaches out, his right hand to their left, and pulls them his way.

Close, closer, closest — until they come together and he can snake his arms about her, coaxing her into resting her head in the crook of his neck. A sigh flees him as he rests his chin atop her head and languidly starts thumbing her shoulder blade beneath his hand. The other seeks refuge at the base of her head, right where it meets her nape.

He drinks in the comfort of their embrace, registering every point of contact. His chin to their hair, their breath fanning across his collarbone, the gentle ( yet somehow urgent ) press of their arms along his shoulders and neck — all rousing a sense of connection he feels more at home in than he can describe.

The faintest smile touches upon his lips as he shuts his eyes, pondering the solace that's draped itself across him ( and hopefully across Shadowheart, too ) like a warm blanket. ❛ Well, I do feel much better for having you here, for what it's worth. ❜

#weaveshadows #query / ic.#❛ thread / aerendyl.#under the cut bc it's a lil long ... the scene setting got out of hand!#sorry abt that KSDFKS #anyway who doesn't love a comforting hug?!?!!!

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sparkys-ec-corner · 2 years

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,,,can you please infodump me about to be irregular. idc if it's like five thousand words I just need to knOW MORE-

OMG 😳😳😳 *cracks knuckles* let's go guys (2nd chapter of tbi and sol invictus when, me????? it's been months!!! *cries in hands*)

okok so. basically, tbi's timeline is fundamentally broken from its creation. luna wakes up from her death slumber and tampers with everything to try achieving true utopia, something that every other timeline was unable to. oss era goes mostly the same before Tale of Abandoment in a Moonlit Night, except for the fact that amostia is a fusion of maria's children that seth kidnapped. from oss era on, many events progressively deviate from canonverse

h&g are the only irregular pair from project ma that survives. a fantasy/reality pair, so to speak - gretel develops future sight, is unaffected by any sort of hypnosis and can later peek into alternate timelines for a brief time; hansel can induce hallucinations and delusions unto someone and permanently rewrite their memories.

as arte&pollo, they actively lead banica down the road of gluttony, kidnap carlos since he made banica happy even though they don't like him, and are violently intolerant to anybody who tries interferring with their plans. they're very manipulative and twisted, though mostly because they genuinely believe that they're doing the best for banica.

as ney, she becomes a triple agent for riliane once she breaks through her indoctrination, using her sight to advise riliane which would be the best action to ensure lucifenia's safety and victory.

as lemy, he becomes the fifth pierrot to keep rin chan safe. he very much hated her face change, and tore off the effects of the lust vessel from her face. he's still a good bean for most part. out of all irregulars, he had the happiest, most peaceful life.

WELL. riliane&allen are a day/night pair, their official irregular titles being dayqueen and nightking, respectively. A LOT OF THINGS HAPPEN IN PRIDE ARC, LIKE YOU HAVE NO IDEA. it's here where things start to really change - for one, both vlad and marie are killed by riliane in different points of her life (banica isn't a demon in tbi), so she never loses her memories as shown in "sol invictus".

instead, allen is sent away due to the first awakening of his powers which greatly disturbed elluka (tbh elluka didn't like either twin from day 1; they always felt wrong to her). riliane studies all she can to become a good ruler when time comes. upon allen's return to the palace, the twins pretend not to know each other.

there is a lot of things as i said, but uhhhhhhhhh. the gist of it is that riliane becomes a conqueror, allen is hella gay for asan, asan is an important character since he's able to see past the first layer of reality (he can see the lucifen twins' eldritch forms without much harm to his psyche besides immense fear, for example), riliane's rule lasts much longer than in canon (she's 18 when the revolution happens), and allen kills an entire crowd when he's beheaded to stop riliane from destroying the country. yay

im not yet done outlining envy arc, but inukichi is asan's reincarnation due to allen taking asan's soul with himself and making them reincarnate together. also, ren is alive and amostia's reincarnation (well, kinda. ren's situation is pretty messy)

cain&abel are around, though trapped in anglomois since they were stillborn and unable to reincarnate. they consumed the souls of project ma's failed irregular children in an attempt to stabilize their souls and successfully reincarnate, thus gaining the bodies they don't have. kiril is fighting for his life every day as the kids can consume any soul, it's only that irregulars are more suitable to their goals but they will eat whatever stays in their way. also, they're the reason why eve's hypnosis-induced incarnations are sleepless

amostia is the irregular who came the closest to ascending before seth sealed him away. he floats in the void ever since, only receiving sporadic visits from luna, and constantly attempts projecting himself into people's dreams. by grath arc, he's visited by michelle who accidentally entered the void and eventually becomes her guardian angel/friend/lover. that is, until ma happens and michelle is erased from reality. it's only downhill from this point on, but [major spoilers that aren't even fully outlined lmao]

btw ma is an anomaly even amongst irregulars, and luna had to personally shove her into lukana's body before ma's very existence destroyed the universe (a note: she did it in a span of two seconds)

besides that, many arcs are fully or partially focused in minor characters such as rindo for lust arc, asan for pride arc, rin chan for sloth/pierrot arc, etc. i theorically could get into detail, but tbh this is already excessively long. so like,,,,,, yeah,,,,,, haha. oh god i hope i can continue writing this au soon

#answered asks #as i said i could ramble even more but this is already so long. oh my god #this is more of an overview bc there's a lot of stuff. a lot of stuff fr #i didnt get into detail with the Body/Soul/True Form mechanic of irregular ascension; for example #i really like this au it's so funky haha. and omg the amount of brainstorming i did for it lol #tbi anon

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moonleap-star · 1 year

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Lucid Dreamwalks (#1: Fell Verse)

[Credits to @ask-underglow and @vampirepoodle for editing and suggestions!! Y’all are life savers!!]

Lucid moved to sit in his bed, kicked off his slippers, and positioned himself as comfortably as possible. His eye-lights scanned his room and listened closely for any noise….Nothing. Ah… Peace and-...The domed lamp at the far corner of his accommodations flickered and buzzed idly every few seconds. His socket twitched. Lucid shifted, pulling his wrap-around bed curtain closed.

A few days had passed since he had performed observation on one of his alternative selves, he and the rest of his “au” still searching for their remaining missing members. He was itching to go back to watching them. Learning.

He couldn’t help but love seeing all these different versions of himself that Ink had said were created by…some greater creators beyond. Gods, perhaps. He wanted to speak to his creator. Ask questions endlessly. Like, why did he feel this restless pull to observe the dreams of his other selves?

...

Placing a hand on the left side of his rib cage, his heart pupils sunk downward from his eye sockets and formed a larger glowing soul underneath where he placed his hand. These representative shapes, of his soul and his creators, is what allowed him to travel across and into other dreams. A gift from his creator. He felt tingly just thinking about it.

He knew his own “soul” was just a jumble of dreams gaining form and sentience. He didn’t technically need a physical representation of the soul. Everyone from every universe would always dream…

As the two souls aligned, he closed his eyes until the bright glow produced by the souls combining reduced to a calm white light behind his eye sockets.

He reopened them.

He was everywhere and nowhere. Not the void, the anti-void, or anything in between. A place just for him. Made just for him. He lovingly named it THE DREAM PORTAL. The gate to the dreamscape, where all of his selves explored their inner psyche. From this place, he could only see a massive jumble of numbers, each a different color and number assignment. They only appeared if said sans from that universe were dreaming, and he could enter their dreams that way and observe from that point.

He had yet to identify where all the numbers and colors led among the millions of them. Thus far he had only discovered the prime universes, those directly stemming out from the primes, and other extremely prominent versions of himself. For some reason, those numbers were always the largest and easiest to identify.

“One day”, he swore to himself, “I will explore them all.”

Looking around, he swiftly recognized the color and number assignment for the FELL Universe. Perfect. He would prefer to study those closest to himself first.

He had yet to introduce himself in any of these fell verses upon his creation. He found they appeared less than others, and upon observation, he decided it was due to the…different, more violent nature of their home universes. Maybe this time he would.

He reached out his hand, and in a flash of bright light, he teleported himself inside the dream.

He landed in something similar to Snowdin. The ambiance, as always in fell verses, was darker. Menacing. Yet there was no one or anything else here besides the brothers’ house- just a black void beyond. The indicator of a nightmare.

Lucid felt a small shiver creep up his spine. He teleported inside the house, deciding to place himself around the corner of the kitchen.

Immediately he heard the harsh upper-case screeching of fell Papyrus. Edge, what Ink had called the younger fell brother once. All the verses versions had their own monikers, to separate them from the prime.

Makes us…easier to categorize and differentiate, Lucid mused nonchalantly.

Normally he might’ve been unnerved by a brotherly screaming spat dream- but this Papyrus was too far different from his. At least so he thought. As he peered around the corner, though, he was floored by the sheer look of hatred on this Papyrus’ face screaming down upon a cowering, sobbing brother.

Lucid felt his bones shake a little. He would absolutely D U S T if his paps ever looked at him that way!

The atmosphere of the dream was so intense, Lucid understood why his fell self, Red, was sobbing. Shaking. Lucid understood… he stepped forward past the kitchen, and as he put himself between the screaming Edge and the pathetic-looking Red, the harsh black aura of the nightmare eased ever so slightly. The dream Edge faded away as Red looked up, red magic tear streaks staining his skull.

“I’m…so sorry,” Red muttered, in shock and numb. Lucid tilted his head slightly to the left with a gentle look, and extended a hand to the crouching skeleton before him.

“You’re okay Red. This place…isn’t real.”

Red looked up at him with a dazed, perplexed look, his eyelights unfocused. “…What…do ya mean…?”

Lucid tsked at himself mentally. ah yes. I haven’t presented myself to him before.

“Just take my hand, Red, it’ll make sense.”

With one more look over Lucid with fuzzy eye lights, Red took the unfamiliar skeletons hand to lift himself up.

The minute their bones touched, Red gained clarity- his first LUCID STATE. His fingers snapped back before they completed the gesture.

“This is a…dream?” Red’s eyelights came into focus as he settled back into his own bones. “Oh. Thank fuck,”

Red put his hand over his SOUL. Oh, that makes sense that there was no pounding, no physical pain if this was just a dream. Red took a moment to compose himself before snapping his head back towards Lucid.

“Oh uh…thanks…? I uh, don’t quite still completely understand what’s happenin’ here,” Red muttered awkwardly, as the black aura completely faded away. The house was quiet, peaceful.

Lucid sighed in relief that the nightmare was officially over and extended his hand once more for a handshake. “I’m…Lucid,” he said slowly, trying out the nickname assigned to him. “I travel through dreams sometimes. You seemed to maybe…need a hand?”

Lucid snorted at his own attempt at a joke. Red laughed, but he didn’t really see how the punchline was the funniest, considering he was just having a traumatizing nightmare.

“………..Lucid, huh? A bit on the nose for that nickname, kid,” Red commented. “…but thanks. I appreciate it. I’m Red…Are you….real?”

Lucid grinned. “I’m realer than most things inside of dreams. And no problem. Nice to formally met ya, Red.” They firmly grasped hands. Lucid didn’t get the usual shock from Red’s hand buzzer. There was less sensation in dreams for him than in the real world. Red, however, got quite the shock from the loud plush toy squeaker wrapped in Lucid’s hand. So much so that Red woke up with a start and Lucid was thrown outside of the dream.

Red awoke at his guard post.

“……..What tha fuck.”

Lucid’s body landed back in his bed where he has last positioned himself, a satisfied grin on his face.

#claritytale #my ocs #art #sans #undertale #undertale au #lucid sans #short story #official

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aliceward · 11 months

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What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption

What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption?

Corruption can take many forms, but some are easier to recognize than others. If you dream about corruption, your subconscious might be trying to make a specific point or statement.

Corruption is an issue that takes many different shapes and forms - it’s not always easy for someone outside of the process (or without personal involvement) to see what’s going on with all the specifics involved in each case. However, if there was something significant happening in dreams related to corruption, then these were likely very detailed scenes that could help people figure out their inner thoughts and feelings towards such issues more completely/thoroughly by providing them with clues as well as opportunities for contemplation/reflection.

What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption

Do you often have dreams about being corrupt? Chances are, it’s because there was deceit within your life recently. Perhaps someone betrayed or deceived you in some way. Alternatively, maybe this deception has led to feelings of guilt or betrayal on your part towards others around you; perhaps these people feel like they don’t trust the ones closest to them anymore- including themselves! Lastly, corruption could represent how much suspicion and judgment is directed at us by other people - we may doubt our actions (or lack thereof) for fear that everyone else will judge us harshly if found out.

Because of your dream, you may have experienced something similar to the following

I have been affected by corruption in many ways. I’ve witnessed government officials being corrupt and cruel, as well as police officers taking bribes from criminals for their benefit. In my life, someone very close to me was corrupted because a bad person influenced them; they changed so much that it hurt our family bond tremendously - we couldn’t trust each other anymore after all the lies were told between us unknowingly at first. It is because of this experience with real-life consequences, that watching movies about political or corporate corruption doesn’t scare me too much since things like these do happen around you even if you’re not aware of what is going on right next door!

Positive changes are afoot if

You apologized for your past corruption and told the truth. The person you were corrupt with was someone you do not keep in contact with, so it’s unclear what consequences may come of this confession. You felt better about yourself after confessing to your wrongdoings because they no longer bother you as much anymore.

Detailed dream interpretation

If you witnessed corruption in your dream but took no part in it, then there might be a lot of deception going on with people around you. You may have been misled before, which makes the matter even worse because now you are not sure who to trust or believe anymore.

If you admitted to corruption or apologized for corrupting someone, then there’s a good chance that you’re desperate and wish that you could start over. There may not be any way of getting back what was lost - but try doing something nice instead! If the dream involved fixing things up again, then accepting your mistakes is easier said than done; however, if it happens in real life, don’t give up hope because maybe someday they will forgive us too.

If the dream had anything to do with moral corruption, you have been emotionally hurt or deceived by others. Someone has made you feel as if you are undeserving of more meaningful relationships in your life. You may also be unsure about some recent immoral decisions made on your behalf without being asked first for input/opinion.

If the dream involved corruption in your spiritual life, you question whether this is truly what’s right for you. You don’t believe that everyone around you has good intentions. It makes sense to be cautious of these relationships because they might negatively impact how I see myself spiritually.

If the dream included corrupt businesses/corporations taking advantage of me, then something about my relationship with them isn’t sitting well with me - maybe there was an argument at work which caused some resentment between us? Whatever happened must have been very serious if it left such a strong mark on our working future together!

If you dream of being a victim of police or political corruption, your subconscious lets you know that it does not feel safe. In this instance, the people who we are supposed to trust most prove themselves untrustworthy. However, it could refer to many things in life and the solution may be as simple as purchasing a security alarm.

This dream is in association with the following scenarios in your life

Love and relationships, what you think of government, dealing with emotions, guilt or deception, your ability to control others.

People often face many difficult decisions in life ranging from loving another person but not liking their actions (i.e., lying), the way they feel about certain issues like politics (i.e., enemies), how one deals with feelings that may be negative such as anger or sadness (i.e., controlling oneself) - all these different things affect our lives every day whether we’re aware of it or not!

Feelings that you may have encountered during a dream of corruption

The past, present, and future me are all looking at the current situation in my life. The corruptness of it makes them feel tainted. They can see how controlled I am by what is happening around me when they look back on their memories to find out why this happened in my life now. Controlling people have made decisions for others without consulting them. After all, someone else wants a certain thing too badly, which has created empty promises that make everyone resentful towards each other right now but also guilty about things we did wrong or deceived into thinking something was going to happen, only to be let down later on because no one cares anymore except themselves!

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liliyawnas · 1 year

Text

seo yul and the art of screenwriting

alternative title: seo yul and why he is so bland in s1

before any of you come for me, i love this pure boy who only wants to be good for songrim and be the bestest mage; but like, he was just so boring in season one, i couldn't bring myself to care about him and didn't really feel the chemistry between him and naksu...

and now that part two is out i actually feel attached to him, and feel the need to pour out all my analysis as to why upon you all using my screenwriting knowledge and stuff

Part one. Function of a secondary character

Who is Seo Yul, when you just casually explain the plot of Alchemy of Souls?

Well, Seo Yul is one of the friend group of the mages of Jeonjinggak trainees that are nicknamed the Four Seasons, nicknamed "Autumn" the hope of the Seo family, strongest of the mages there, teacher's pet, Jang Uk's closest friend and confidante, and the teenage love of Naksu the assasin. Which basically makes him the Second Lead, competing for Naksu's affections when he recongnizes her in Mu-deok and starts developping feelings again.

And in purely functional screenwriting terms, he is Jang Uk's Ally, and also his Rival in the competition for Naksu's affections.

No matter how loveable a character is, they never are included "just for fun" in a dramatic work of fiction, they always have to bring something to the development of the plot, development of the characters, development of the story's themes, and basically to move the story forward. A long-form piece of ficion like this has a lot of ground to cover in terms of story development, and characters that we follow. If you add a character "just 'cause", not only it's harder to make the audience care about them, but also it is going to hinder the rhythm of the story, taking up precious screen time.

Before I actually started thinking about what he does for the story, it really felt like he floated in and out of the plot just when the writers needed him to do something or to add tension... Which is very annoying to see. I am not saying he serves no function whatsoever, in fact, when you start thinking about the show's themes, the reason he is there becomes very obvious. However, his character, throughout season one, had been horridly underdevelopped and underutilised, so

Part two. The problem with Seo Yul

The real problem with Seo Yul is that he was included for thematic purposes, but his character was not sufficiently developped for us to feel like he fits into the story organically, instead of hovering around the edges. Let me explain.

The reason I absolutely adore Seo Yul is that his Very Good Boy persona, a guy who cannot choose the woman he loves over his principles and his devotion to a cause, contrasts deliciously with Jang Uk's "fuck everything, I am getting what I want or dying in the process" attitude. Jang Uk is selfish, spoiled and lazy, Seo Yul is hard-working, shy and selfless, and they make great mirrors. And the contrast between the two just highlights why Seo Yul cannot be the one to help Naksu find redemption. Naksu and Jang Uk almost complete each other. Both are a little bit unhinged in the way they pursue what they want, both are very temperamental, and each one has strengths that compensate for another one's weakness. Seo Yul is there just to highlight the beauty of how these two very flawed characters find redemption and succes through each other.

By the way, I am not saying that the Seo Yul x Naksu dynamic couldn't make for a compelling enemies to lovers story, on the contrary, the pure difference of their characters could create a whole different kind of tension that would make people ship them even more than Jang Uk x Naksu. So why is that not the case?

A compelling Second Lead would make the viewer actually fear that the Protagonist is going to choose them over the First Lead; and ideally, also feel conflicted as to whom they want the Protagonist to end up with. A compelling Second Lead needs to have everything necessary for them to almost be the First Lead. And there are two key things that Seo Yul is missing in season one.

Number one is a motivation and a goal, really. I considered putting this as number two, but this is essential for a character, really, and part of the reason it's hard to care about Seo Yul. What the fuck does Seo Yul want? What is the huge desire that he Does Not Have? There is no such thing that is even eluded to in the show. Naksu is not what he wants, mind you, because when she theatened him with her sword he was like "oh well, guess it's not meant to be🤷‍♂️" and then sort of proceeded to not even try to figure out who she was or why she reacted the way she did.

Number two is stakes. What does he stand to lose? We, as the audience, don't really feel afraid for him, because, well... He is good at spells, he inherits the Seoho fortress so his future is chill, we know nothing of his family, and it's hard to tell why exactly he can't really do anything about his feelings for Naksu. He doesn't stand to lose his powers, his standing, his title, or anything, so like... It's hard to consider him as a real Rival for Jang Uk, because he just doesn't seem that driven. The most I can come up with is that he doesn't want to ruing his friendhip with Uk, but like... It's not as if Uk hasn't done shit to put that friendship in danger; and also in order for characters to grow they absolutely have to fuck up and do bad things to their Allies.

And, well, all that brings me to my sort of final point. If the reason Yul exists in the plot is to be Jang Uk's Rival, Ally, and his Mirror, but doesn't get much of a character arc outside of that (except for the rushed bit in the end of season one when he decided he was taking Naksu to Seoho fortress, and then ended up plagued by guilt)... He becomes a character that is kind of not necessary as himself, and he would do best fused with the character of Park Dang-gu. Hear me out, okay?

If Yul is to be Uk's Rival, why make him his Rival only for Naksu's heart? Dang-gu is the person who is to inherit the leadership of Songrim (it is what he does after season one!), and Jang Uk wants to be the leader of Songrim like his father. Dang-gu is in love with Jin Cho-yeon, and Uk is the one who has been engaged to her, twice! Just those two things would make the tension between Uk and this hypothetical Yul-Dang-gu character double what it is between Uk and Yul, or Uk and Dang-gu, and the stakes would be way higher. I like the contrast between Yul's Stoic vibe and Dang-gu's Soft vibe but it's not enough to keep you invested in both characters. And, arguably, throughout season one Dang-gu has had way more of a character arc than Yul, despite being significantly less important than him narratively...

Or, well, the other way to fix Yul's character is to give him stakes and Something To Do, which is what they did! Finally!

Part three. The Final One. I like Yul!!!😭

If he gets killed this season I am going to be so upset! Just as I started getting invested in him! Please don't boo me but I even like his and So-i romance, because that would be a great narrative arc! Like at first he wasn't willing to fight for love, and didn't think it worthwile to invest his energy into redeeming somebody and offering them a better future, and him flipping to be the opposite - that would work pretty fucking great, in my opinion😭🥰.

This season his character actually works and it's kind of great. He has stakes: poor man is dying😭, he has a (potential) romance, he has Horrible Regrets about not saving Naksu and Uk and he is very sad, instead of just being Slightly Nostalgic in season one. (Side note: I saw some fans complaining about Hwang Min Hyun's acting because of that, because we saw him with basically the same expression... I didn't really share that opinion at the time, it's not like his acting came off as specifically fake, it's just how he was written. Nostalgia is just... not a very strong emotion. And now it's clear that it was not the problem, lol.)

I am still not sure if Yul's arc really includes a Desire, or a Goal, but he is definitely more complex this season and more compelling to root for. And there are things that he Kind Of Wants, which I guess is helping Uk grieve Naksu properly before he dies, and reconciling Uk and Dang-gu after the whole problem of Jin U-tak's death, unlike of "I guess I want to catch some soulshifters" and that being his his job.

TL;DR. In season 1 of Alchemy of Souls, Seo Yul was underdevelopped and underutilised as a character, and seemed superficial to the plot, because he lacked a motivation, a goal, and stakes. This season he is actually way more interesting and compelling as a character, specifically because he got all those things, and I can't wait to see where the plot takes him next!!! (Also Hong sisters don't kil Seo Yul, please??? Pretty please? After you did all this work to make his character interesting😭)

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suna-reversed · 3 years

Text

Icarus’ Irony ☀️

Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

alternative title: “but I crumble completely when you cry”

2k+ words

Minors DNI‼️

A/N: if you haven’t already seen this cosplay, go get some Toji brainrot

Warnings/Tags: mentions of violence, manhandling, dacryphilia, mild dub-con, fingering, mating press, cum play, breeding kink, size difference, cheating, smoking/alcohol, shotgunning, degradation, slight praise, angstt, hurt/comfort

“Do you know of how Icarus fell?”

His question snapped you out of your post orgasm daze. You looked up at him from where your head rested on his bare chest, thighs straddling his lap, quivering a little as you pulled away to look at his face in the moonlight.

“He flew too close to the sun?”

Toji looked deep in thought as you answered, nodding his head slightly,

“Ah yes, he did…”

You almost purred as his warm hand slid up your thigh, kneading the sore-marked flesh,

“ ...but that wasn’t what what damned him”

He paused again, dangling the lit cigarette held in between the index and middle finger of his other hand, the same fingers that were buried deep inside of you not too long ago,

“...his ruination came with his desire. The closer he got, the more he craved. His delusion didn’t even let him feel the searing heat that burned through his flesh. He was too lost in thought of the eternal glory he believed he’d found.”

Toji adjusted his gaze to meet your eyes, the acrid scent of smoke hitting you as he leaned forward. His actions seemed slowed and you found it hard to differentiate the golden aura around his silhouette from his actual self. Has he always been so ethereal?

“Do you think he smiled?”

“Huh?” you mumbled out drowsily, your head falling back on his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent. night-chilled mist and cedar. His hoarse chuckle sent shivers down your spine.

“I asked, do you think he smiled...knowing he was the only one to ever get that close to the sun, even if it destroyed him in the end?”

You heard Toji take a puff out of his cigarette and your breath hitched as a hand came to your jaw, tilting your head up as he exhaled out the smoke in between your parted lips.

How had he stayed this long tonight? Usually, you’d be cleaning yourself up by this time, no trace left of the man who had been whispering sultry words into your ear while pounding into you from behind moments ago. He was never this talkative afterwards either.

“Why are you asking me this?”

He leaned back, turning his head away from you. The slightest of change could be sensed in his posture as you hesitantly brought your fingers up to trace the scar next to his lips. He’d grabbed onto your wrist halfway before it could reach his mouth everytime that you had tried it before, growling a low “wanna try that again?”, that usually led to you being stuffed full of him once more. Perhaps he was too high to care tonight?

“Why am I asking you this?” A dry laugh left his throat as he finally looked back at you, still making no attempts to pull your hand away from his face.

“because I think you’re flying dangerously close; whether for warmth, for lust, for love; whatever it is, I have a feeling you’ll go down smiling even when the light sets you aflame.”

You were too lost in his eyes, your mind clouded by the feel of his unclothed skin against yours. How did he get the scar? Had he ever told you? Did she know about it? A burning sensation formed in the pit of your chest as your eyes slid to the gold band kept neatly on the nightstand. He removes it every single time; right before he sinks to his knees with a moan, saying his prayers in between your thighs as your heels dig into his spine.

You couldn't register his words anymore. It all sounded like incoherent gibberish, perhaps that's what it all was. Perhaps, that’s all everything he’s ever said was.

“I only stay with her because of my son”

“I’ll get a divorce soon enough”

“She wont let me live in peace if she finds out-”

All gibberish. Garbage. Empty promises. Lies. Words that held no meaning.

His lips were still moving, but all you could hear was the loud ringing in your ears. Suddenly, the sensation of his flesh against yours felt like too much. You couldn't breathe as bile rose up to the back of your throat. You pulled your head away from his chest, but the warmth wouldn’t leave you, the wet feeling on your cheeks worsening the burning of your skin.

Why was he still speaking? Could he not see that you were dying?

Shut up, shut up, shut up-

You found your lips moving out of their own accord

“Leave-leave me alone I hate you”

The sob that ripped from your throat made you feel like you had just been pushed off from a skyscraper, feeling the end nearing, but it never quite seemed to come.

Your incoherent pleas of being left alone continued as you felt muscular arms wrap around your figure; your sobs getting louder as you felt yourself being picked up, and then laid down on the plush mattress that still held the remnants of your previous feat with the man above you.

You didn't realise you had been thrashing until a hand grabbed onto your wrists, bringing them together as Toji used his weight to pin your struggling body down, his other arm coming around to pull you into his chest, effectively muffling out your screams.

Your sobs took a while to die out; leaving your eyes burning, throat dry, and the throbbing pain in your head worsening by the second as you continued to stare at the chipped ceiling past his shoulder. The same ceiling you had stared up at as he had ruthlessly rutted into your cunt, calling you “his obedient little slut”- “his cumdump”.

That’s what you’ll always be, isn't it?

You felt the grip around your body loosen, the weight lifting off of you slightly as your eyes came in level with his face. He held an unreadable expression like always. A bitter laugh escaped your throat as you looked back on all the times you had dreamed of the scar next to his lip twitching up, only for you.

“Stop it.” His voice was smooth, your body instinctively reacting to his command. You hated it. But you still did have control over your words,

“Fuck off”

You saw his eyes darken, his hand moving up to grab your jaw harshly,

“What was that?”

Smack!

Your palm burned as it landed, the skin of his cheek already tinting a deeper shade of crimson.

Heavy silence hung in the room.

You gasped in shock as you felt a pair of lips crash down onto yours, Toji’s tongue making its way into your mouth as you groaned. You contemplated biting his tongue, but the rational part of your brain seemed to be dulling out more and more the longer that his tongue remained clashing with yours, his hands moving up your abdomen to grope your chest, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples.

You shut your legs together as his hand tried to slither in between, but your efforts were to no avail as he grabbed onto your thigh, holding it away, not even wasting a second to dip his fingers into your heat. You felt your face heat up at the wetness he found there. Toji moved back to sit on his knees, thumb circling your clit as you tried not to let out any more sounds of pleasure.

“You hate me huh? Then what’s this?” His fingers pumped in faster inside of you making you arch your back, a cry of shame leaving your mouth.

Toji grabbed onto your thighs to push them up to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulders and biting at the tender skin he found. A loud moan left you as you felt him line up with your entrance, the tip already making you feel the stretch of his huge girth.

You opened your eyes, only to be met with the same chipped ceiling once again. Tears welled up in your eyes, making your vision blurry as you felt a sob bubbling in your chest, pitying your own resolve for breaking so soon.

But then you felt something rub against your cheek. A calloused thumb brushing away the tears as a forehead came down to press against yours, and you found your orbs locked onto the malicious ones of the man you had wrecked your sanity for.

“You are…” he sighs out, and you grunt as he slides deeper into you, “...the only thought that plagues my mind.”

His lips meld with yours once more as he finishes his sentence, both of your moans being muffled against each other’s mouth.

“...all-the-damn-fucking-time” he thrusts into you in between words. It's the closest he’s come to being gentle as his strokes, though slow, still hit deep inside of your dripping cunt. His hips jut into you more intensely as you bite his lip, hands moving up to entangle themselves into his dark locks.

You were crying and moaning and screaming all at the same time as his cock hit all the right spots, the pain of his huge member still being evident even after it had fucked out your pussy countless times. But it was drowned out by the pleasure as his fingers found your clit once more, hastily rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves as he picked up his pace. You found your face contorting in pleasure soon enough, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts as you felt your climax coming.

“C’mon, go ahead, cream all around my cock like the good girl you are.” He grunted, voice deep and dripping in honey.

The coil in the pit of your stomach snapped as his tongue licked its way up from your neck to your jaw. Toji continued fucking into you as you rode out your orgasm, your body spasming from the overstimulation as you felt your insides being filled with thick spurts of cum. Toji groaned, pulling back to look at the sight of your cum-filled cunt, collecting the slickness that had dripped out of your hole with his thumb, only to push it back inside.

You were too tired to move a muscle, too tired to cry or curse him as he got up, walking out the bedroom door. The hollow feeling once again flooded your chest as you shut your eyes, hoping to wake up from this endless nightmare.

Your body jerked awake as you felt something cool slide against your thigh. You snapped your eyes open, lifting your head, only to find the man you had just cussed out a thousand different ways sitting on the edge of the bed, a wet cloth in his hand. You were too stunned to say anything, staring at him as he inched forward, continuing his task of cleaning up the mess.

You let your head fall back against the mattress, sighing as the conflicting thoughts in your mind continued to race on. You found yourself being lifted, a blanket being put over you before your head was pulled into a warm chest, arms wrapping around you as a hand cradled the back of your head. Your thoughts all disappeared away, the familiarity of his body becoming almost cozy as sleep took over your senses. You thought you heard him mutter something, but then again, you might as well have dreamt it.

----------

Toji found his hand lingering over the door handle as he glanced at your slumbering figure. Sighing, he walked back over to cover you with the blanket that you had kicked off.

He found his own mind flooded with conflicting feelings as he walked out of your building. He had never stayed the night before. Moreover, he was trying to find a justification for the three cursed words he had muttered last night.

He decided to blame it on the nicotine that was clogging his system. Even though he had felt his high clearing as soon as he had seen you sobbing and moving away from him, your face filled with disgust. He never wanted to see you feel that way about him again.

He looked down at the golden band clutched tightly in his palm. The metal was starting to rust. He was surprised your curious little mind didn’t notice, didn't ask him why - because real gold didn’t rust. He found his mind flashing back to the first time you had asked him,

“Are you...seeing someone?”

He hadn’t known you for too long then, but the tug in his chest each time you were around made him want to disappear out of existence.

You made him want to lose all restraint, and what would the man be if he lost his sense of identity, the only armour he harboured; his rigid demeanour.

The lie had rolled off his tongue easily enough, switching over the band on his index finger to his ring finger under the table. Lifting it up for you to see, he had felt his heart clench at the flicker of sadness in your eyes. But that seemed to work as even more proof for why he had to draw a boundary around himself.

You burned like a thousand fires, your brightness blinding, your warmth creeping up to thaw the ice around his heart.

It terrified him.

How he always ended up coming back for more, how he ended up breaking a little more each time his name slipped past your sweet lips, how he’d vowed to destroy anything that dared cause you agony. Even if it meant destroying himself.

Toji Fushiguro finally knew the answer to his question.

He too, would go down with a smile if it was you lighting the match to his pyre, if it was you ripping the wings off his back.

After all you were the only light in his life, his precious sun.

How does it matter if he burns himself out trying to get closer to you?

#fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk hcs #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen tw #toji x you #toji fic #jujutsu kaisen angst #sukuna x reader #yuji x reader

5K notes · View notes

jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

Text

Jurassic period alien interacting with key cultures and historical figures in Middle East & Asia throughout history

@ketchupmaster400 said:

Hello, so my question is for a character I’ve been working on for quite a while but wasn’t sure about a few things. So basically at the beginning of the universe there was this for less being made up of dark matter and dark energy. Long story short it ends up on earth during the Jurassic Period. It has the ability to adapt and assimilate into other life animals except it’s hair is always black and it’s skin is always white and it’s eyes are always red. It lives like this going from animal to animal until it finally becomes human and gains true sentience and self awareness. As a human it lives within the Middle East and Asia wondering around trying to figure out its purpose and meaning. So what I initially wanted to do with it was have small interactions with the dark matter human and other native humans that kinda helped push humanity into the direction it is now. For example, Mehndhi came about when the dark matter human was drawing on their skin because it felt insecure about having such white skin compared to other people. And ancient Indians saw it and thought it was cool so they adopted it and developed it into Mehndi. Minor and small interactions though early history leading to grander events. Like they would be protecting Jerusalem and it’s people agains the Crusaders later on. I also had the idea of the the dark matter human later on interacting with the prophets Jesus Christ and Muhammad. With Jesus they couldn’t understand why he would sacrifice himself even though the people weren’t deserving. And then Jesus taught them that you have to put other before yourself and protecting people is life’s greatest reward. And then with the prophet Muhammad, I had the idea that their interaction was a simple conversation that mirrors the one he had with the angel Jibril, that lead to the principles of Islam. Now with these ideas I understand the great importance of how not to convey Islam and I’ve been doing reasearch, but I am white and I can understand how that may look trying to write about a different religion than my own. So I guess ultimate my question is, is this ok to do? Is it ok to have an alien creature interact with religious people and historical events as important as they were? Like I said I would try to be as accurate and as respectable as possible but I know that Islam can be a touchy subject and the last thing I would want is to disrespect anyone. The main reason I wanted the dark matter being in the Middle East was because I wanted to do something different because so much has been done with European and American stuff I wanted to explore the eastern side of the world because it’s very beau and very rich with so many cultures that I want to try and represent. I’m sorry for the long post but I wanted you guys to fully understand what my idea was. Thank you for your time and hope you stay safe.

Disclaimer:

The consensus from the moderators was that the proposed character and story is disrespectful from multiple cultural perspectives. However, we can’t ignore the reality that this is a commonly deployed trope in many popular science fiction/ thriller narratives. Stories that seek to take religious descriptions of events at face value from an areligious perspective particularly favor this approach. Thus, we have two responses:

Where we explain why we don’t believe this should be attempted.

Where we accept the possibility of our advice being ignored.

1) No - Why You Shouldn’t Do This:

Hi! I’ll give you the short answer first, and then the extended one.

Short answer: no, this is not okay.

Extended answer. I’ll divide it into three parts.

1) Prophet Muhammad as a character:

Almost every aspect of Islam, particularly Allah (and the Qur’an), the Prophet(s) and the companions at the time of Muhammad ﷺ, are strictly kept within the boundaries of real life/reality. I’ll assume this comes from a good place, and I can understand that from one side, but seriously, just avoid it. It is extremely disrespectful and something that is not even up to debate for Muslims to do, let alone for non-Muslims. Using Prophet Muhammad as a character will only bring you problems. There is no issue with mentioning the Prophet during his lifetime when talking about his attributes, personality, sayings or teachings, but in no way, we introduce fictional aspects in a domain that Muslims worked, and still work, hard to keep free from any doubtful event or incident. Let’s call it a closed period: we don’t add anything that was not actually there.

Reiterating then, don’t do this. There is a good reason why Muslims don’t have any pictures of Prophet Muhammad. We know nothing besides what history conveyed from him.

After this being said, there is another factor you missed – Jesus is also an important figure in Islam and his story from the Islamic perspective differs (a lot) from that of the Christian perspective. And given what you said in your ask, you would be taking the Christian narrative of Jesus. If it was okay to use Prophet Muhammad as a character (reminder: it’s not) and you have had your dark matter human interacting with the biblical Jesus, it will result in a complete mess; you would be conflating two religions.

2) Crusaders and Jerusalem:

You said this dark matter human will be defending Jerusalem against the Crusaders. At first, there is really no problem with this. However, ask yourself: is this interaction a result of your character meeting with both Jesus and Prophet Muhammed? If yes, please refer to the previous point. If not, or even if you just want to maintain this part of the story, your dark matter human can interact with the important historical figures of the time. For example, if you want a Muslim in your story, you can use Salah-Ad-Din Al-Ayoubi (Saladin in the latinized version) that took back Jerusalem during the Third Crusade. Particularly, this crusade has plenty of potential characters.

Also, featuring Muslim characters post Prophet Muhammad and his companions’ time, is completely fine, just do a thorough research.

3) Middle Eastern/South Asian settings and Orientalism:

The last point I want to remark is with the setting you chose for your story. Many times, when we explore the SWANA or South Asian regions it’s done through an orientalist lens. Nobody is really safe from falling into orientalism, not even the people from those regions. My suggestion is educating yourself in what orientalism is and how it’s still prevalent in today’s narrative. Research orientalism in entertainment, history... and every other area you can think of. Edward Said coined this term for the first time in history, so he is a good start. There are multiple articles online that touch this subject too. For further information, I defer to middle eastern mods.

- Asmaa

Racism and Pseudo-Archaeology:

A gigantic, unequivocal and absolute no to all of it, lmao.

I will stick to the bit about the proposed origin of mehendi in your WIP, it’s the arc I feel I’m qualified to speak on, Asmaa has pretty much touched upon the religious and orientalism complications.

Let me throw out one more word: pseudoarchaeology. That is, taking the cultural/spiritual/historical legacies of ancient civilizations, primarily when it involves people of colour, and crediting said legacies to be the handiwork of not just your average Outsider/White Saviour but aliens. I’ll need you to think carefully about this: why is it that in so much of media and literature pertaining to the so-called “conspiracy theories” dealing with any kind of extraterrestrial life, it’s always Non-Western civilizations like the Aztec, the ancient Egyptians, the Harappans etc who are targeted? Why is it that the achievements of the non West are so unbelievable that it’s more feasible to construct an idea of non-human, magical beings from another planet who just conveniently swooped in to build our monuments and teach us how to dress and what to believe in? If the answer makes you uncomfortable, it’s because it should: denying the Non-West agency of their own feats is not an innocent exercise in sci-fi worldbuilding, it comes loaded with implications of racial superiority and condescension towards the intellect and prowess of Non-European cultures.

Now, turning to specifics:

Contrary to what Sarah J. Maas might believe- mehendi designs are neither mundane, purely aesthetic tattoos nor can they be co-opted by random Western fantasy characters. While henna has existed as an art form in various cultures, I’m limiting my answer to the Indian context, (specifying since you mention ancient India). Mehendi is considered one of the tenets of the Solah Shringar- sixteen ceremonial adornments for Hindu brides, one for each phase of the moon, as sanctioned by the Vedic texts. The shade of the mehendi is a signifier for the strength of the matrimonial bond: the darker the former, the stronger the latter. Each of the adornments carries significant cosmological/religious symbolism for Hindus. To put it bluntly, when you claim this to be an invention of the aliens, you are basically taking a very sacred cultural and artistic motif of our religion and going “Well actually….extraterrestrials taught them all this.”

In terms of Ayurveda (Traditional holistic South Asian medicine) , mehendi was used for its medicinal properties. It works as a cooling agent on the skin and helps to alleviate stress, particularly for the bride-to-be. Not really nice to think that aliens lent us the secrets of Ayurvedic science (pseudoarchaeology all over again).

I’m just not feeling this arc at all. The closest possible alternative I could see to this is the ancient Indian characters incorporating some specific stylistic motifs in their mehendi in acknowledgement to this entity, in the same vein of characters incorporating motifs of tribute into their armour or house insignia, but even so, I’m not sure how well that would play out. If you do go ahead with this idea, I cannot affirm that it will not receive backlash.

-Mimi

These articles might help:

Pseudoarchaeology and the Racism Behind Ancient Aliens

A History of Indian Henna (this studies mehendi origins mostly with reference to Mughal history)

Solah Shringar

2) Not Yes, But If Ignoring the Above:

I will be the dissenting voice of “Not No, But Here Are The Big Caveats.” Given that there is no way to make the story you want to tell palatable to certain interpretations of Islam and Christianity, here is my advice if the above arguments did not sufficiently deter you.

1. Admiration ≠ Research: It is not enough to just admire cultures for their richness and beauty. You need to actually do the research and learn about them to determine if the story you want to tell is a good fit for the values and principles these cultures prioritize. You need to understand the significance of historical figures and events to understand the issues with attributing the genesis of certain cultural accomplishments to an otherworldly influence. 1.

2. Give Less Offense When Possible and Think Empathetically: You should try to imagine the mindsets of those you will offend and think about to what degree you can soften or ameliorate certain aspects of your plot, the creature’s characteristics, and the creature’s interactions with historical figures to make your narrative more compatible. There is no point pretending that much of areligious science fiction is incompatible with monotheist, particularly non-henotheistic, religious interpretations as well as the cultural items and rituals derived from those religious interpretations. One can’t take “There is no god, just a lonely alien” and make that compatible with “There is god, and only in this particular circumstance.” Thus:

As stated above by Asmaa and Mimi, there is no escaping the reality the story you propose is offensive to some. Expect their outcry to be directed towards you. Can you tolerate that?

Think about how you would feel if someone made a story where key components of your interpretation of reality are singled out as false. How does this make you feel? Are you comfortable doing that to others?

3. Is Pseudoarchaeology Appropriate Here?: Mimi makes a good point about the racial biases of pseudoarchaeology. Pseudoarchaeology is a particular weakness of Western-centric atheist sci-fi. Your proposed story is the equivalent of a vaguely non-descript Maya/Aztec/Egyptian pyramid or Hindu/ Buddhist-esque statue being the source for a Resident Evil bio weapon/ Predator nest/ Assassin’s Creed Isu relic.

Is this how you wish to draw attention to these cultures you admire? While there is no denying their ubiquity in pop-culture, such plots trivialize broad swathes of non-white history and diminish the accomplishments of associated ethnic groups. The series listed above all lean heavily into these tropes either because the authors couldn’t bother to figure out something more creative or because they are intentionally telling a story the audience isn’t supposed to take seriously.*

More importantly, I detect a lot of sincerity in your ask, so I imagine such trivialization runs counter to your expressed desire to depict Eastern cultures in a positive and accurate manner.

4. Freedom to Write ≠ Freedom from Consequence: Once again, as a reminder, it’s not our job to reassure you as to whether or not what you are proposing is ok. Asmaa and Mimi have put a lot of effort into explaining who you will offend and why. We are here to provide context, but the person who bears the ultimate responsibility for how you choose to shape this narrative, particularly if you share this story with a wide audience, is you. Speaking as one writer to another, I personally do not have a strong opinion one way or the other, but I think it is important to be face reality head-on.

- Marika.

* This is likely why the AC series always includes that disclaimer stating the games are a product of a multicultural, inter-religious team and why they undermine Western cultures and Western religious interpretations as often (if not moreso) than those for their non-Western counterparts.

Note: Most WWC asks see ~ 5 hours of work from moderators before they go live. Even then, this ask took an unusually long amount of time in terms of research, emotional labor and discussion. If you found this ask (and others) useful, please consider tipping the moderators (link here), Asmaa (coming eventually) and Mimi (here). I also like money - Marika.

#alien character #historical fiction #science fiction #pseudoarchaeology #Middle-Eastern cultures #South-Asian cultures #Islam #writing with Islam #mehendi #cultural appropriation #areligious perspectives in writing #asks #WWC

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