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birues · 4 months

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Wip whenever

I was tagged by soo many people 2 weeks ago but academic suffering was kicking my ass so jdjdjdhdhd this time I tag first since tomorrow is Wednesday anyways! @lavampira @hythlodaes @verraising @scionshtola @galadae @hylfystt @consulaaris @impossible-rat-babies @sirotras @coldshrugs and anyone else, bc i know I'm forgetting some beloved mutuals, consider yourselves tagged friends!

ENDWALKER SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Tuana has arrived to Elpis and with the memories of the two lifetimes and unresolved traumas stacking up. Unknown to Hythlodaeus and Hades, a ghost from the future came to haunt the heavens.

*****

Five minutes and one thing becomes painfully clear, Themis was right. She meant to be nothing but an observer here. The doors, too gigantic for her sundered form, will not budge and her shouts will not be heard. Neither she can pass the warded walls like a ghost. Frustration tears a huff from her but she concedes to wait. Surely someone will go in… Some time. One can only hope it won’t take too long. Oh, Ardbert. How did you endure this a hundred years?

She tries to breathe. He’s with her. And surely she can–

“Is this truly necessary? Surely you can tell who we are.”

That voice. That voice. Once a star’s worth of light tore down her very being. Yet… yet… the emotions clawing through her wretched presence are far more vicious. This is no hallucination, no. No half-remembered dream. Not a memory long forgotten surfacing from her soul. This is real. He is real. He is here.

And he's not alone. Another voice, amused and calm and full of love coerces Hades to remove his mask.

She thinks she can burst out of this reality right there. The ache, all-encompassing. Transparent tears fall to the ground, making no dots on the carpet. Hythlodaeus.

Paralyzed, she watches the pair making their way to open the door that bars her way. Why them? Why now? Was carrying the burden of long gone memories not enough? Is she condemned to exist as a ghost? Reaching out but only haunting?

At this exact moment a pair of golden eyes, far brighter than they were on the First, pierce through her own. A weight she's far too used to have on her chest. But no. He can't possibly be seeing her, right?

Hades abruptly cuts her inner dilemma by tearing his eyes from her and he proceeds to guard his displeased demeanour with vigour. Like nothing has happened. Like he never saw her. Tuana pinches the bridge of her nose. Rhalgr…This isn't a good time to start hallucinating.

She stills her breath as the couple approaches the gate. A small mercy, at least she will have a way in. Even if the price is way too high.

Too high. Her hand goes to Azem’s crystal, hanging on her neck, inside her shirt, out of sight. Small habit of comfort where none can be found. To her dismay what Hades apparently chose to ignore, Hythlodaeus does not.

“By the by...you see it too, yes?”

Hades’s scoff is heart wrenching in its familiarity. A bittersweet feeling, intertwined by the memories of two lifetimes twists her lips into half a smile half a grimace.

“I haven’t the foggiest what you’re talking about.”

His dismissal does nothing to deter Hythlodaeus. “Hmm?” He raises his eyebrows. “That's odd.” Then he kneels down right in front of her. Just like his shade on Amaurot used to. Hades really had done an excellent job, hadn’t he?

“It's right here. A bit thin in the aether, but there's no mistaking it—the color of its soul is almost identical to Azem's.”

She wills her expression blank. Of course. Of course they would recognize her soul. Fear drills into her brain, just how is she supposed to explain this? Thankfully, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil he continues with his musings. “Do you suppose she created it? Rather unusual for a familiar to have a soul, though…”

A familiar. Huh. She would laugh if the wretchedness hadn’t seized her. Can she go by that route though? She immediately crosses the thought of her mind. It would require her past self to cooperate with her or everything would fall easily like a house of cards. There's only so much she can stomach.

“Don't ask me. All I know is that it's trouble—doubly so if it's her spitting image.”

A trouble. Understatement of the millenia. That’s what she’s ever been to him, wasn’t she? A mistake. An anomaly. A trouble. His chest, unmarred by her axe, heaves.

“So let’s leave it be.” He beckons his husband. “Come now.”

You can see me? Oh Gods… how long has it been?

Tuana lunges toward with a despair and rage that would turn her to a blasphemy if she were on the Source.

“You don’t get to turn away from me you fucking bastard!” She snarls at Hades, but her hands are intangible as Ardbert’s ever were. If only her anger could solidify her form. “You don’t get to treat me like dirt under your shoe.”

Her words go unheard but her outrage does not. Hades squints his eyes to her small form as if his glover can sniff her out.

As always it’s sweet Hythlodaeus who rushes in to quell the flames. No wonder they ended up destroying each other once he was out of the picture.

“It's trying to say something...but it's literally too intangible to form words.” He says his thinking gesture is still adorable even after aeons. He turns to Hades, with that particular grin indicating he’ll ask something from him. “Why don't you give it some aether? Spare a snifter of your bounteous reserves.”

For a moment, Hades stands there utterly perplexed. “Who do you take me for?”

“Why, your partner and a dear friend, of course! One who wouldn't let acts of kindness—such as my accompanying him on errands to far-flung outposts—go unrewarded.” He smiles and Hades sighs in defeat. This was a battle lost from the beginning. He could never say no to him. Nor Azem.

His mistrust apparent, he stares down at her. “I suggest you close your eyes, or this may be...unpleasant.”

And she does, at least to partly shield herself from breaking down while feeling his aether, as familiar as her own, with no trace of Zodiark, wove her flesh to something tangible. A familiar click, and there she is. She opens her eyes to find two men looking at her intently.

“Oh, you even adjusted its size.” Hythlodaeus beams.

“The better to indulge your whim.” Then he inspects his work, stopping on her face. “This way it will be easier to communicate.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” Hythlodaeus says, with admiration in his lovely eyes. “And may I applaud your artful reinforcement.”

“Right.” She quips back. “We wouldn’t want you to bend your back too much, trying to communicate poor tiny me. You’d look horrible with a permanent slouch.”

Her comment steals a genuine laugh from Hythlodaeus, even if he doesn’t get the irony.

Hades’s mouth opens, from astonishment as much as irritation. “Hah. Says you, being able to form words only by my grace. Or maybe you’d like to go back to how you were.”

“Now now,” Hyth intervenes once again. “No need to get that far. Without further ado, then... Greetings! I am Hythlodaeus, chief of the Bureau of the Architect.”

A genuine smile crosses Tuana’s face, infectious as his is. A fond memory of their celebration of his promotion blooms in her mind, oh how proud they all were. And how he still insisted that he was nothing remarkable...

It sickens her to the bone to think he sacrificed himself deeming he was nothing remarkable.

Before she can descend properly to the depths of grief, he gestures to his side, to the man who refuses to let go of his frown. “Sulking beside me is the most honorable Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Fourteen.”

Ah yes. She probably should stop referring to him as Hades. Even in her mind. That particular knowledge is too dangerous to slip out. Especially when she knows he’ll be on the hunt for every clue. Just as she was on the First. Oh how the tables have turned.

“And how might we address you, my new friend?”

His smile hasn’t faded and the love she feels towards this gracious man entangles through her soul. As if twelve millennia of life death cycle never has occurred. Loving him is such an effortless, easy thing to her. As natural as breathing.

As it is to the man glovering right next to him. Of course he would drown at the depths of the ocean without him.

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #hythlodaeus #azem #emet selch #hythazemet #tuana tag #fyi tuana remembers like. idk. half of her past life and not bc of azem crystal #bc azem did sth fucked up before the sundering #i love tragic trio #i have sooo many ideas abt elpis and maybe I'll make this a multichapter thing idk #much sadness #my writing

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chrkrose · 20 days

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Hello. I've seen you answer an ask about Lyanna Stark. It's rare to see people point faults in her. Usually, they say Rhaegar is to blame, and Lyanna's age dismiss her actions. Even those who say she was rickless still go back to say anyone who points out her mistakes is misogynistic. What do you think of this say? Should we really not talk about it? Is Elia having negative feelings toward her that taboo and un-adult like? I have mixed feelings. I read many posts that defend her and that as long as you are young/child, you don't get blamed, but the thing is, I feel that it's not the actual reason. I feel that they just want to reject her mistakes and use the age and gender as an excuse to make the opposite person feel like an asshole for pointing out that a young girl carries some responsibility. And in a scenario where she and Rhaegar lived, I feel she would still be with him, and that just feels selfish and inconsiderate toward Elia. Is it really that bad to dislike a young person? Was all she did because of naivety? Because to me, she wasn't naive in that aspect (love doesn't change a man's nature). What do you think of her? I really don't understand how she is liked that much as nothing but victim. Sometimes, it feels forced other times self insert or uncare. I feel it's all to the hype George gives her from being remembered to having a rare flower as her motif to being jon's mother and Arya's aunt and being Rhaegar's love. Or am I being too emotional about what I see as justice? I wish to hear your thoughts.

I do think that Rhaegar bears more responsibility than Lyanna, both because of his age and because the exact circumstances around how she left with him remain unclear. But honestly, I feel far more sympathy for Elia in this entire ordeal. She was a woman of color who suffered greatly because of this situation, and a far more interesting character if you ask me. That matters to me more than what people assume about Lyanna's motivations, especially the idealized "fanon" version.

If Lyanna went willingly, her youth can explain and justify some of her decisions, but I find it unfair to excuse all her choices as a result of her age because fans certainly don't extend the same generous view to Jon (14 years old), Daenerys (13 years old), Sansa (11 years old), Robb (16 years old), Myrcella (10 years old), Arya (11 years old), etc, all of whom struggle with difficult decisions around the same age or even younger. I think it’s disingenuous to absolve her of the weight of what happened when these characters and many more aren't afforded the same grace.

Lyanna fans and Lyanna/Rhaegar shippers face a dilemma. Either she went and stayed willingly even after knowing about what was happening – making her a hypocrite for running off with a married man after her whole discourse about Robert and a pretty selfish horrible person given the brutal murder of her brother and father, never mind the civil war that followed it – OR they must accept Rhaegar held her captive once her initial feelings changed after knowing about her brother and father/ Rhaegar lied to her and never told her the truth about what happened because he knew she would leave his ass. That destroys their idealized image of a loving prince, and destroys the perfect impossible predestined love story they made up about these two. They can't have it both ways, but they sure try.

But this is all beating around the bush. Let's be real here about why Lyanna (and Rhaegar/Lyanna as a couple) have a somewhat significant fandom for the amount of development they have in the actual text. The reasons are: 1) she's white, and 2) she's a blank slate for self-projection. Far more interesting characters and couples (cough Nettles and Daemon cough) exist with similar levels of textual development and don't get nearly the same attention. That speaks volumes. Lyanna and Rhaegar are a blank slate where they can paint whatever they want, as long as they can ignore the more uncomfortable parts and the ramifications of their story.

This bleeds into how Elia is treated by much of the fandom. It boils down to racism. Were the racial dynamics reversed, the fandom response to these women would be fundamentally VERY different. Just look at how Nettles/Daemon are treated compared to Rhaenyra for further proof. What's the difference there in the dynamic? A married prince meets a girl and falls in love with her, abandoning his wife and children for her. You don't see fandom contorting themselves into saying that Rhaenyra deserved it, that she had it coming, rejoicing in her death, gloating about how she went down. And Rhaenyra was actually a terrible person. Elia was nothing but a good woman, who was married off to a prince and paid a brutal price for his lack of care and abandonment, suffering until the end of her life and dying in one of the most horrible ways I've read about in this series. And yet she's demonized. Again. Racism.

The truth is, her fandom project their own desires onto Lyanna. They love the "not like other girls tm" idea of her, they love the pick me girl energy of her story, and she fits the bill for their self-inserts. The misogyny runs deep even among those who considers themselves her fans or shippers of the couple, and they don't even realize it.

My dislike of her is a lot influenced by her fanon version, because the truth is that there isn't enough material for me to actually care about canon Lyanna outside of the tragedy that was her life. Canon wise she might be interesting and maybe a character I would enjoy, but the truth is that there isn't enough there. And if I have to care about characters who have that little textual development, I find other characters such as Elia, Ashara Dayne, Nettles, etc, much more interesting, engaging and worth of my time

#anti lyanna stark #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar x lyanna

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assortedfruitsnacks212 · 10 months

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I've been thinking a lot about why I find art so hard to make at this stage in my life.

I haven't seriously picked up a pencil in two years. I made a little portrait drawing in 2021, just to see if I could still do it. And that's it. Since then, nothing. I've tried, but I can't describe the dread I feel when I get too close to the blank page.

I've asked myself why lots of times, only to remain just as confused as before. I've never been able to point to a specific thing I did to ruin art for myself. I've just known in my bones that I was on the wrong trajectory. I'd lost all the joy of it, but kept going much longer than I should have, until I had absolutely nothing left to give. And I've paid for it ever since.

It's a strange dilemma to be in. I know so many people who make a successful living at their art, who happily take commissions or otherwise leverage their skills into a career. Why, when I tried to do the same thing, did it go so wrong?

Well, after a long time away, letting the question simmer in the back of my mind, I think I've finally caught a glimpse of the answer.

I've been too scared to make the art I really want to make.

If you've followed my art over the years, you've seen a lot of portraits, some fan art, maybe a sci-fi illustration here and there. I'm good at portraits especially; there's just something about the human face that I enjoy capturing.

But I'll tell you a secret: I don't dream of being a portrait artist. Never have. I don't finish a portrait and feel the thrill of having followed my soul's calling. Instead I feel... underwhelmed. "Yes, yes, you've proven once again that you can make lines look like a face. Good job. Now when are we gonna get to the REAL stuff?"

The real stuff, the stuff I daydream about, is less concerned about accuracy and likeness. It's not about making lines look like That One Specific Face, it's about leaping out of reality and transporting you into mine. When I'm making it, I don't ask, "Is this accurate to the pictures I'm using as reference?" I ask, "Does this capture how I feel about it? Will a viewer looking at this see the worlds I carry in me?"

That's terrifying. I've always worried about people criticizing me, and I've used portraits as a shield. "Look at this, look at how closely this resembles the person you know! Aren't you impressed?" It's a party trick, so much safer than actually showing myself to you. What if you don't like what you see?

I carry colors in my mind. Stars and desolate planets. Stories about technology indistinguishable from magic, nightmare creatures, and dark oceans. As long as I keep all of that locked away, it's safe from critique... but it's also slowly suffocating to death.

I can't do that anymore. It feels like killing my own soul. And that's why, in 2019, everything in me revolted to the point that drawing made me sick. Even when I didn't consciously understand, my body knew.

I guess what I'm saying is... no more party tricks. No more trying to charm and impress. I have to chase what's real, or my art will never come back to life.

Wish me luck. It's going to be very hard.

#personal

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galactic-pirates · 1 month

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Regina Mills

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Thank you so much for the ask!! :) :) :)

10) Could I be best friends with Regina?

No I’m not cool enough haha.

Honestly as much as I love Regina and I see that her prickliness comes from pain, I would find her so intimidating in person. I scare easily.

12) What’s a headcanon I have for her?

Ah my usual dilemma of what is canon and what is headcanon 😂

Somewhat complicated by the fact that it’s been a few years since I have seen this show now. Where does time go?

Oh man this is such a good question and my brain is a total blank. Ok ok, I'm just going to have to go with the first thing that comes to mind.

I started to write a whole thing about how Regina can be her own worst enemy and I scrapped it because I wasn't being clear. So lets be specific - season 1 finale. My headcanon is that if Regina had tried to TLK Henry awake from the sleeping curse then it would have worked. I don't think it would have broken the dark curse as well so that could go down one hell of a canon-divergent rabbit hole so put in a pin that. Regina didn't even try and kiss him. She knew what he needed, she clearly thought about it, but she didn't want to know as she assumed it wouldn't work. "Too evil, too broken, he hates me, evil can't love etc." it's an insecurity.

Now I don't want to get into Regina's crimes because that's another rabbit hole. The salient point is how Regina thinks of herself and this is one of the few inconsistencies in the show I don't mind. Mental health/self-acceptance isn't a linear battle. Sometimes she can be at peace with it, other times she judges herself. Season 1/season 2 was a very low point for her. Some of which was nothing to do with all the magical crazy, and just the very real true life that her sons bio mom has shown up, and she feels 'lesser' (she's not obviously).

But I've never doubted how much Regina loved Henry. I like that she did get her own TLK with him later on. But yes my headcanon is that it would have worked at the season 1 finale.

15) What’s my favourite ship for her?

I said this the other day but ultimately it’s “Regina x Happiness” and I did like that her story ‘end’ meant it didn’t come from a man. I like that Regina forged her own family, that she broke the cycle and didn’t repeat her mother’s mistakes.

There wasn’t really anyone on the show that clicked for me and that I thought was right for her.

Now as a lighter more joking answer I don’t sleep well and I run stories in my mind. These stories are allowed to be full of OC’s and cliches and be the sort of thing that fandom ridicules because it is just me telling the story to myself. I do confess I have fixed her up in my head with an OC. I may have written about 10k of fanfic towards it once but for the most part that has died a death on my HD (aside from the odd question like this where I was like hey why not it’s just a bit of fun).

23) Favourite picture of Regina?

Well I don’t keep any saved but let’s see what the gif finder has that appeals.

(I love it when she goes “you want to see your queen” and then nothing happens)

Yeah I could do this all day. Scrolling through is just like mmm no hard ship at all.

#long post #regina mills #I answer things

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book-waas · 2 years

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My Mechanical Romance

Title: My Mechanical Romance Author: Alexene Farol Follmuth Date Finished: June 4, 2022 Goodreads Links: [Book] [Review]

Star Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[Thank you NetGalley and Holiday House for providing this ARC to me in exchange for an honest review.]

Review:

Sign me up for more STEM based books like this!!

Bel is a new transfer student whose coming off a bad year, and is kind of looking for a place to belong. While all her classmates at this new school have high plans for college and their life, Bel finds herself blank when she thinks about her future — especially when she's asked directly about it.

Teo Luna was raised with very specific expectations as the son of a tech whiz, and those expectations as his father's son seem to have followed him into high school as well, where they're all waiting for Teo to be that stand-up guy, available for everything, a master of all trades, involved in every extracurricular under the sun.

Bel and Teo are thrown together when a teacher spots Bel's innate talent for design, and leads her straight to the robotics team that Teo captains. Bel doesn't have a lick of expectation of being accepted onto the team, but Teo spots her sketching out a better, near-flawless design for the audition problem, and he's sold.

They get off to a rough start, obviously.

To Bel, Teo is nothing but a rich, stuck-up boy who doesn't know how to take criticism and feedback, and just wants everyone to agree to everything he says. To Teo, Bel is infuriating because she's standoffish, and doesn't play as a team — and she's a threat to his life plan because he'd never counted on someone like her in his life.

They're both right and wrong, obviously.

The best part of this book was undoubtedly that these kids were allowed to be kids, and make stupid decisions, and get in trouble with their parents. Bel and Teo come from very different backgrounds but a lot of the flaws they have are similar, and they manage to strike a balance between themselves.

Bel's relationship with her family was a cornerstone of this, and while I do wish there had been a little bit more resolution on that front, it wasn't necessary for the purpose of the story so I don't think the book was lacking anything. Teo came off as someone who comes from privilege, and a lot of his flaws came from the fact that his privilege is rooted with his dad's expectations of him. I like that the author didn't shy away from those two co-existing statements.

I loved watching Bel and Teo's relationship develop through the book, through their common ground, and while I don't understand a lick of whatever was explained here besides the basic physics, I love that both of them got a change to feed off and balance each other's goals and help support each other — even if they hit a few major roadblocks along the way!

I also think that because these are high schoolers, some of the plot choices make sense. They are inevitably going to mess up in ways that are embarrassing because at that age, you don't know what you're doing, so you do stupid things, learn a lesson and then hopefully not do it again.

It wouldn't be a true review of this book if I didn't talk about the very real element of women in STEM that the author put in there. We have side characters who, in my opinion, are representative of the two extremes of approaching the misogyny — Neelam, who will push harder to try to get a spot to the point of bitterness, and Lora, who might just defer to the norm in a bid for honey instead of vinegar.

As a STEM major myself (particularly a woman of color!), I've been through the exact dilemma that Bel and the other girls were going through. Never being seen, always watching it be "a boy's world," watching teachers shower praise and accolades on the male students and never anyone else, etc etc. These are things that were familiar to me in high school and college, and are still familiar now, and I loved that we could get the representation for that. Because when I was in school, no one ever talked about it. You were expected to keep your head down, because if praise didn't turn your way, wrath and blame certainly did.

This book isn't as serious as that, but it's just as serious as you'd expect a book about 17 and 18 year old high schoolers to be. They're learning lessons as the book goes on, while falling in love with each other, and I think that was done fantastically.

Honestly, I just love the way the characters were crafted. I swung back and forth on a lot of them before realizing that was the point! They're finding things out about themselves, and somewhere, it dragged up all my stuff from high school, too, about being the overachieving student trying to score a spot to go to medical school.

(Also let's be real, I love seeing nerds being celebrated because I, too, am a nerd.)

This book was a great read, and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes the academic-rivals-to-lovers trope, dual POV, a snarky girl just trying to find her way, a spread-too-thin boy trying to do it all, and to anyone who’s ever felt like they don't belong!

#zee reviews #my mechanical romance #alexene farol follmuth #teo luna #bel maier #teo x bel #book reviews #arc reviews #ya romance #ya #advance readers copy #readers and libraries #readers of tumblr #bookblr #book lovers

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billphxrealtor · 1 year

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10 Helpful Tips and One Must-Do When Hiring a Contractor

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Bill Salvatore- Realtor

November 5, 2022

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So you’re planning a few home updates, improvements or repairs, maybe an entire remodel, you have a plumbing headache or an electrical predicament, maybe your home needs painting inside or out, perhaps your family could use some extra space and an addition is in your future. You need a contractor, so where do you start?

Overall, I agree with the helpful suggestions for hiring a contractor, provided by the National Insurance Crime Bureau (NICB) and the tips in the post below are definitely worth noting. However, I was surprised that there seemed to be a few glaring omissions, most notably, confirming that your contractor is licensed to operate in your state.

Every state has a roster of licensed contractors, the vocations for which they are certified, and the level and specifics of their qualifications. This is public information and easily obtainable. You would be remiss if you failed to do your research.

Case in point, a Phoenix couple hired a landscaping contractor who was recommended by a trusted co-worker. The couple’s new back yard would be finished with pavers, turf and a fire pit, for the price of $18,000, the most affordable estimate they received. The contractor requested half the money up front. After several months of wildly varied excuses, the only thing the couple had to show for the $9,000 already withdrawn from their account, was a pile of sand. They requested a refund of their money or delivery of the materials they had paid for. Neither materialized. A belated check of their contractor’s state issued license unfortunately turned up nothing. A search for the contractor himself was also unsuccessful.

There are far more of these situations than we ever hear about, and in cases like this you have very little recourse. This case study was provided on the ABC Arizona web site by the wonderful folks at “Let Joe Know” who are currently attempting to locate the offending contractor. We’ve seen the Let Joe Know team clear up many of these dilemmas, but sadly they’ve no luck with this one as of the date of this post.

Before you hire a contractor of any kind, run through the tips below from NICB, and carefully check with the state for an official contractor license. Do not rely on your contractor to provide this to you, verify it with the state yourself!

Follow These Tips Before Hiring a Contractor Information provided by NICB via RIS Media

If you’re adding an addition or plan to build a new home, you likely have a ton on your plate. Planning, researching, and dreaming up designs can be fun, but stressful. When it comes to hiring the right contractor, make sure you do your due diligence so you don’t end up with a lemon.

NICB suggests you consider these tips before hiring a contractor:

Get more than one estimate.

Get everything in writing. Cost, work to be done, time schedules, guarantees, payment schedules and other expectations should be detailed.

Demand references and check them out.

Ask to see the salesperson’s driver’s license and write down the license number and their vehicle’s license plate number.

Never sign a contract with blanks; unacceptable terms can be added later.

Never pay a contractor in full or sign a completion certificate until the work is finished and ensure reconstruction is up to current code.

Make sure you review and understand all documents sent to your insurance carrier.

Never let a contractor pressure you into hiring them.

Never let a contractor interpret the insurance policy language.

Never let a contractor discourage you from contacting your insurance company.

For more information, Call or Text: 602-999-0952

eMail:

[email protected]

Bill Salvatore / Arizona Elite Properties

Your Valley Property Team

Residential Sales, Marketing, and Property Management

Selling Arizona for more than 20 years

Founder: AZVHV Arizona Veterans Helping Veterans Recipient: East Valley Tribune’s: Best Gilbert, Arizona Realtor

Ever wonder what Closing Costs you’ll be responsible for when you buy or sell a home? Check out our infographic and article:

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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Step four

CW: Congratulations reader-chan! You’re expecting! Illumi also really cranks up the yandere side, nothing too bad, but he’s definitely not proving to be a stable man in this part.

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi found his mother in the family library, doing some research for a job she'd gotten. "Mother, sorry for interrupting, but I have a rather pressing dilemma with my relationship." He said, and he could see the woman perk up slightly, but she only hummed and stayed focused on her research, "Sorry dear, I can't help right now, maybe try Gotoh." She spoke casually, but he could see in her body language that she was dying to hear about her eldest son's relationship. "I was wondering if it would be inappropriate to bring her here so soon." he added, and like that her research was forgotten and she was instead offering him a seat beside her. So, he sat in the intricately carved wooden chair and filled her in on his dilemma with the concerns for your safety after finding out Hisoka knew your name, and the concern of pushing you away unnecessarily. "I don't want to put her in danger, but my research on dating says that bringing her here is something to do later on, when we've been together for more than a month." he explained, his mother digesting the information before speaking, "This is a rather delicate situation...but since Morrow is here, it should be safe to leave her where she is. Maybe set some butlers as constant bodyguards, but hold off on bringing her around here. At least until I can prepare! Oh I'd have to get the chefs to cook a special meal for when your father and I finally meet your partner, and the mansion will have to be meticulously cleaned, and the gardens tended to!" Illumi sighed as his mother rambled on a tangent about how this sort of conflict was always so romantic in the novels she'd read and how she'd have to make sure the family was perfect so as to leave the best possible impression on you. "Mother, I am being serious. I have worked with Hisoka before, he's a dangerously clever man. I don't want to risk him harming my future spouse," he reminded the woman, who savored her excitement for a moment longer before regaining her composure, "I'm sorry dear, I just get so happy when I think about my sweet baby boy finally settling down," she said somewhat wistfully, and the assassin inwardly groaned. He was the eldest of at least five, he was far from her baby anymore, but he couldn’t really remind her of that without sending her into a sobbing fit. "anyway!" she chirped, drawing him back from his blank staring and practiced way of spacing out when she took advantage of the fact she was the only Zoldyck allowed to be mushy like this, "I really do think you should leave her where she is, at least for a bit longer. Once she comes to this mountain she won't be able to leave easily, and I'd hate for your future wife to turn out to be some spy or desperate journalist." While she said it in honesty, her voice lacked any real remorse. If you did turn out to be a threat, even Kikyo wouldn't hesitate to squash you like a bug. I think out of everyone to have after (y/n), mother would be the worst. Illumi thought as he pondered his mother's words, agreeing to keep you at your home for the time being. So, for the next few weeks Illumi alternated between jobs and returning to stalking you, but until he could rein in the possessive urge to kidnap you, he kept his distance. When he couldn't watch you himself, like when he was torturing Hisoka for adding extra steps to that job, he made sure someone was still there to ensure nothing bad happened to you. Another bonus of this set up he found was that the servants he had hidden nearby to watch you were able to warn him when you started acting odd. They couldn't exactly place why you were suddenly so anxious and slightly distraught though, so the ebony-haired assassin decided to finish the job he was on quickly when he found out and return to his secondary home. About a day after he'd returned, in the late afternoon, you knocked at his door, as he was expecting. "Hello," he hummed as he opened the door to find you standing in the slightly chilly daylight fidgeting anxiously, "Um...I think we need to talk." You said, your words shooting an arrow of anxiety into his heart, Is she going to break up with me? Should I have brought her home sooner? Should I just grab her now? he asked himself, his dark, empty eyes scanning over your form to glean any information he could from your body language while he wrangled in his moment of panic, No. Invite her in, if she really is about to break up with you she'd be easier to subdue where no one can be a witness. he told himself, temporarily quelling the urge to snatch you up and refuse to let you go again and instead inviting you inside to talk out of the cool late spring air. Once inside you sat on his couch, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to mind the bit of mess in the room that Illumi was swift to sweep under the couch or toss out of sight. Your tense mood drove Illumi crazy, but he skillfully hid the fact that he was growing impatient with waiting and beginning to plan out a way to sedate you and take you home, keeping his focus on the dirty clothes he was throwing behind the chair and the garbage he was shoving into his pockets. simply sitting beside you after a while, awaiting whatever bad news you might have for him. Is she really going to try and break up with me? Damn it, I should've never let my mother talk me into this whole 'dating' thing. He thought bitterly, his own sliver of anxiety adding to the tense, heavy air you had already created. However, after an excruciatingly long stretch of time, you took a deep breath, "Illumi, I t-think I'm...pregnant." you forced out, not looking at the dead-eyed assassin as the two of you fell into another stretch of silence while Illumi processed this news. Pregnant? We've only had sex twice, is she really that fertile? He pondered, an honest smile spreading across his usually expressionless face after it set in. In a flash, he'd jumped up and scooped you up, hugging your possibly smaller body to his tightly, making you squeal, "this is wonderful news!" he said, making you smile and turn a light pink, "Oh, well if I'd known you'd be so happy about it, I wouldn't have stressed so much," you laughed awkwardly, letting Illumi hug you for a moment longer before he put you down again and cleared his throat, his face returning to his bland expression, "Though, this does put a rush on putting together a wedding." he hummed, not noticing the way your eyes widened "uh? w-wedding?" you squeaked, drawing his attention out of his thoughts and back to you. Your panicky expression was rather cute to him, you were so innocent, "Well yes, I was originally planning to take things slow, but now I can't afford to wait. Not to worry though, I'm sure my mother will help you plan it," he assured, but judging by the increasing panic in your (e/c) eyes, it didn't work, "is something wrong, (y/n)?" "I-I don't want to marry you?" You squeaked, and while your words did sting, he knew this might happen, "Well, I can't let you parent this child without me, and marriage is the perfect way to ensure I stay involved as well as that you and our child are safe from harm." He explained, but you shook your head, "Illumi, no! It's only been a-a few months since we've started dating, it's far too soon to marry!" you tried to explain, but he waved your arguments away, "dating is already a redundancy, I've been very patient in waiting this long before moving on to marriage," he explained, getting a bit annoyed at your horrified look. It was intriguing to see you get flustered and slightly scared, but marriage was not something that deserved this sort of reaction. He sighed, I can't let this continue, the stress is not good for the baby, he reminded himself before speaking again, "Please explain to me why you are so against getting married. I don't think I'm understanding your points clearly enough." For a moment, you struggled to find words, obviously confused and shocked, but he made sure to be patient, "I-Illumi, it's too soon for marriage, that's something for later on down the road, i-if we even make it that far." You tried to explain, but the assassin grimaced, so you spoke again "Plus, it's perfectly fine if we don't get married before the baby's born, we can still parent them together," Your words made his expression darken further. Finally, you sighed dejectedly, "or...I could always just termi-" Illumi cut you off by grabbing you by your shoulders, his grip tight, nearly painfully so he was sure, but he was not about to allow the entertaining of such ideas, "You will NOT harm that baby, (y/n)." he said darkly, watching tears well up in your (e/c) eyes from fear and maybe pain. That made him calm down, he had to keep his temper in check before his malicious aura was the one to harm his future wife. "If you try anything to put yourself or our baby in danger, I will be forced to keep you under strict observation." he warned, his voice not holding any room for argument when he spoke, but than he tried to relax, hugging your slightly shaking form to him again. "It'll be okay, mother will plan a good wedding and you'll be a good mother when the baby's born." he assured, running his hand through your (h/l), (h/c) hair in an attempt to calm you down and show that despite his flash of temper, the excitement of your good news still zapped through his veins. "I'll keep you safe, i promise." He could feel the shiver his words sent through you, but fear was easier to manage than defiance. After a moment though, he let you go again, "I'll have some butlers help you pack your most necessary things, tomorrow I'll take you to the estate." he decided, and when you went to argue again he gave you a cold look, "you can't say anything that will change my mind. The Zoldyck estate is the safest place for you, so go home and pack." he ordered, his tone firm enough for you to get the message. You didn't get a choice.

#yandere illumi #x reader #yandere #illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #hxh #fanfiction #quotev #part 11 #hunter x hunter

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just-some-random-blogger · 3 years

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Here’s My Problem: I Can’t Get You Out Of My Head

Seventeen + BTS Detective!Jeon Wonwoo x Actress!Reader Characters: Jeon Wonwoo, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Mingyu, Chwe Hansol (Vernon), Seungcheol (S.Coups), Chan (Dino), Yoon Jeonghan Summary: Wonwoo’s cold and calculating personality makes him a top detectivee. He’s currently in the middle of a murder investigation when he meets you, his favorite actress. His mind goes gooey when you’re near him though, and it messes things up for everyone. Can he deal with his dilemma? Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Mystery, fluff, angst, detective au, actress au, TRIGGER WARNING graphic depictions of violence, stalking, killing, obessession, etc.

A/N: I’m going for that fall out boy/the 1975 kind of song title, ya feel me. And just like my Hoshi fic, I made Jungkook and Wonwoo siblings just because they have the same last name hekhek

And in case you start thinking otherwise, yall this is a work of fiction that does not represent reality at all.

Playlist:

Forget About It - All Time Low

Oh My! - Seventeen

Dream Girl – SHINee

I Love You 3000 – Stephanie Poetrie ft. Jackson Wang

Red Moon – KARD

Love U – Monsta X

Touch – NCT 127

Focus On Me – Jus2

Blue Flame – Astro

Psycho – Red Velvet

Let’s Not Fall In Love – BigBang

Slow Dancing In The Dark – Joji

Try Again – d.ear ft. Jung Jaehyun

Guess Not – eaJ

You Calling My Name – Got7

The Jeon brothers were popular in their neighborhood for being swoon worthily good looking. They were so popular in fact that girls from other schools in their proximity came around just to glimpse at them on the school bus.

The younger of the two, first name Jungkook, was an all around remarkable fellow. He was good at sports and academic, making him popular not only for his looks but as well as his athletic achievements.

The older Jeon on the other hand, Wonwoo, was far more reserved and mysterious. He excelled in his classes and was a top student in his class, but whatever loudness or extroversion his dongsaeng had, he did not possess.

It was somehow a match made in heaven for the brothers. They complimented each other and helped where they could.’

It was unsurprising the two began extremely different careers after graduating, Wonwoo having studied criminology, and Jungkook, filmography. Never did the two brothers think they would get an opportunity to work with each other having left the academic scene, until Jungkook finally got the greenlight to start production on his childhood dream project: a murder mystery film.

To be honest, it was an old, black and white mystery film that shaped the brothers into choosing their careers. Having been so fascinated with solving puzzles since he was younger, Wonwoo remembers vividly how amazed he was at how intricately woven the movie he watched with his brother was. And his said brother, Jungkook, found so much splendor in being able to watch such things, that he told himself he wanted to be someone who made those for a living.

And now here they were years later, working on a murder mystery film together.

Jungkook hired his brother to be as a specialist on set. To be honest, Jungkook thought his hyung would be a little bit more excited about it when he was going to be helping Jungkook not only live out a childhood but as well as be on set for a production he actually enjoyed the genre of.

In fact he had to beg Wonwoo to agree to work with him. Wonwoo argued he was in too deep with real life cases to be focused on the fictional case Jungkook wrote about.

And to be fair, Detective Jeon did not reach his rank for nothing, but neither did Director Jeon earn his reputation for nothing.

Still, the only reason why Wonwoo agreed to his brother because of you.

His favorite actress.

"Hyung," Jungkook calls his brother from the couch, "you should watch this drama. It's really good."

Wonwoo was too busy with his English homework to care.

Jungkook ate some chips and turned to his brother that was sat by the far off desk, "Hyyuuunnnngg!"

Said hyung grumbles, "I'm busy."

"Ya, the girl is really pretty."

"Good for her then."

Jungkook scoffs.

After Wonwoo had finished his homework, he decided to watch with his brother, not before scolding him of course. "You know, you'll be in the last year of your college soon too, so you better stop wasting your time watching dramas."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "I'm literally studying filmography. This is studying for me."

"Aish, what do I know," Wonwoo hisses, grabbing some chips from Jungkook's bag. Once he turned to the screen, Wonwoo felt his eyes widen slightly. "You're right, she's pretty."

"Right? I'll hire her for my murder mystery movie," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

It amazes Wonwoo, even after months of working behind the scenes on this film, that he gets to see you in real life.

Even right now as you acted out a dialogue with another famous actor, Kim Mingyu, it felt surreal when he remembers you're actually just a few steps away.

Jungkook was initially baffled by how star struck Wonwoo was to meet you. I mean, he expected his brother to maybe fan girl, but he flat out blanked when you introduced yourself. For the first time in Jungkook's life, he saw his brother had no wits with him. It's still so hilarious to him that Wonwoo lost his so-called mysterious grace when you smiled.

"Cut! Good take," Jungkook called. He then went over to his brother who was holding a paper bag. It was obvious to anyone Wonwoo was holding some lunch.

Jungkook smiled. He extended his hand out, clearly expecting whatever his brother bought was meant for two, "what is that?"

Wonwoo scowled and moved the brown bag away, "it's not for you."

"Aw what? You bought food just for yourself."

"No. I bought this for-"

"The country's sweetheart," Jungkook teased and wiggled his eye brows.

Wonwoo deadpans and replies dryly, "Yes. Mingyu asked me to buy the sandwich I had the other day."

Jungkook raises his brows and crosses his arms.

Wonwoo clears his throat, "and yes. I bought an extra for her. Why? Can't I?"

Jungkook sneers and slaps his brother's shoulder, "homie is whippedt, with a T."

"What are you? A prepubescent teen?"

"I am cool."

"Ya, is that the sandwhich?" Mingyu calls, suddenly near them. Wonwoo's breath hitches when you smile and wave his way.

Jungkook sniggers softly and decides to watch it play out.

"Thanks, hyung," Mingyu states. Wonwoo and he were close because Jungkook and Mingyu were friends after working so often with each other.

Wonwoo turns to you but looks away when you catch his eye. He clears his throat and finally gains the courage to turn back, "ya... I got you a sandwich too."

Mingyu, who had gotten his sandwich at this point turned to the remaining one in the bag, Wonwoo, you, then pushed the sandwich your way.

You gratefully take the bag and turn to Wonwoo with a grin, "you didn't have to get me one."

Wonwoo scratches his nape, "... the thing is, I wanted to."

Mingyu and Jungkook turn to each other with wide eyes. You chuckle and feel blood rush up your neck.

"You know actually--" Wonwoo starts but gets cut off by his phone ringing. Jungkook eyes him hotly, trying to telepathically tell him not to answer it, but Wonwoo does anyway.

Mingyu rolls his eyes as Wonwoo begins to get into a deep conversation with whomever is on the other line.

Once he's done, Wonwoo turns back to his brother and says, "there's been another murder, I have to go."

Jungkook only nods and doesn't stop him, not that he would, not thay he could. It was terrifying to know that his older brother was so close to bringing a serial killer in.

It started long before production to Jungkook's latest project began. Missing person reports for college girls began to get filled, soon after these girls would be found dead. Initially, theses cases were treated separately since the incidents were scattered all over the city and were seemingly random. It had only been a few months since authorities announced the murders were done by the same person.

It was Wonwoo who spearheaded the investigation.

Wonwoo was on his way to his car to get to the latest crime scene when he was pulled from the back of his coat.

He quickly turn to see what it was holding him back and felt his cheeks burn at the sight of you panting and smiling, "hi."

Wonwoo raises a hand.

You huff, "detective Jeon."

"Yes."

"To be completely honest with you, I'm not sure if you like me or not. You don't really pay me much attention, but when you do you're awfully sweet when you're not avoiding eye contact."

Wonwoo opens his mouth but closes it right after.

"I understand you're a very busy person, and again I'm honestly not sure if you even like me, but I wanted to aks anyway: would you accompany me to a party next week?"

Wonwoo audibly gasps to which you gasp and giggle to. At this point, Wonwoo's face is burning, he can feel it, but he manages to nod, "I would love to."

You break into a smile and nod, "okay? Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay. Next week, friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay good."

tIt was honestly not tha good, considering Wonwoo couldn't stop thinking about it. How was his brain going to get through this crime scene before him when all he could think about was you. It was a real problem. Every time he looked into the room, he found something that reminded him of you, the laundry scattered in the bedroom floor, the posters of celebrities on the wall (to be fair there was one of you in the room), the trinkets on the table. Your everything was fogging his head.

He was lucky Hansol was as sharp as ever because it seems not even the putrid smells in the air was snapping Wonwoo out of his trance.

The date- was it a date (YES IT'S A DATE HYUNG -Jungkook)- came both quickly and agonizingly slowly.

Wonwoo wore a new suit he brought just for the occasion, and for that he was grateful, because this party you took him too was a lot fancier than he had anticipated. It was apparently one of those exclusive events that select people got invited to.

To say Wonwoo was intimidated and out of place would be completely accurate. He was never a party goer, even in college, but if it meant he got to see you dressed up in a rose gold dress and red lipstick then count him in.

Wonwoo tried to stay as close as you as possible-- not for any perverted reason, but so he wouldn't lose you and to protect you from anyone who would dare attempt anything perverted.

You forced him to dance though he never really danced much, but much like the reason why this party was appealing, he enjoyed dancing because of you.

Bless your soul you noticed how awkward Wonwoo looked and decided to call it quits for the dancing. The rest of the night was then spent drinking champagne in the venue's tiny balcony. It was honestly the first time you two had talked by yourself, and though it was awkward, your heart skipped at how Wonwoo described his passions with his deep voice and how he clumsily complimented you.

Honestly, you thought Detective Jeon was the most attractive man you had ever seen, both outwardly and inwardly. He had been nothing but a gentleman around you and never treated you like a distant celebrity, though the many times you've been told how much a fan of yours he was. You wanted to kiss his lips as he continued to speak, but you controlled yourself.

The most that you gave him was a kiss on his cheek when he called a cab for you. Wonwoo would've drove you home had you not specifically told him not to bring a car cause you two would be drinking.

It was still an amazing night regardless.

Page 6 of the newspapers thought so too, Wonwoo learned, as he walked into the station when he got to work.

Hansol rolled over with his office chair, wiggling his eyebrows, "how you doing there, chief."

Wonwoo pretends like he isn't all smug about it when he is, but when he thinks about how this may be impacting you, he doesn't feel smug at all, "mind your own business, Chwe."

"Ya. It is my business because you're dating my first love!"

Wonwoo snaps at him and sneers, "ya! Focus on your work."

Hansol sneers, "so protective."

Wonwoo mutes him out by putting on headphones that played the soundtrack of his favorite mystery film. As he tapped his foot to the beat, he reviewed the file of the serial murder case he was on.

There were a total of 13 victims-- that's how many films you've been in--

Wonwoo screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. That was the most inappropriate thought he could've suddenly thought of.

He reviewed the latest profile of the victim. She was in her last year of high school and played the flute. Wonwoo recalls how you attmepted to play a flute in a variety show.

Wait.

Stop it.

Shit.

Wonwoo increases the volume of his music. He reads that the victim is from your hometown. This actually makes him shiver. Wonwoo rips his headphones off and decides to take a bathroom break, taking his phone with him. This is where he sees a text message from you that reads: are you coming on set today?

Wonwoo quickly replies: yes.

Can you buy me a sandwich?

Yes.

The rest is history.

From that moment moving forward, Wonwoo's confidence is through the roof.. he not only manages to have a decent conversation with you with other, but even when it's just the two of you. He asks you out, to which you agree. He takes you to an ice skating rink, when he flaunts his skating prowess to your shaky legs. Don't tell him though, but you were faking it so that you can cling on to him tightly and closely. But no one mention either that Wonwoo totally saw through it.

Soon enough you became comfortable enough to cook to take him to your place to hangout. This was were Wonwoo finally addressed something that had been bothering him.

"Are you okay with what's happening?"

You knit your brows at his question.

Wonwoo clarifies, "I mean there are a lot of articles about us. At first it was pretty vague, but now they are mentioning my name in the papers. Are you okay with that?"

You pout and raise your brows, "are you okay with that?"

Wonwoo shakes his head, "I've never really cared about what people thought about me, only my friends and family."

You nod. Wonwoo looks in expectation. You can't help but chuckle, "if you want the truth, it's good publicity. You're a famous detective and the netizens are actually in love with you now because you're so handsome."

"... wait really?"

You pout and cross your arms, "I can't believe you're enjoying that."

Wonwoo can't help but laugh at your faintly jealous reaction. He pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head, "well, what I really enjoy is being close to you."

You relax against him and unwrap your arms just so you could cling on Wonwoo's torso.

"But you know what I would enjoy more?"

"Hmm?"

"...if... you became my girlfriend."

You pull away slightly and turn to him. You break into a smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

You then take his cheeks and pull him close to your face. You plant your lips on his and his pulls you closer by the small of your back. The kiss encloses the both of you in warmth. It's electric and so calming all at once. It just... feels right, y'know.

It's just pure bliss for the two of you.

At some point, Wonwoo really wasn't need on set anymore, and yet he came around to visit you and Jungkook. Who were you fooling, clearly Wonwoo came around to see you.

He would sometimes be able to take you out to lunch, depending on both of your schedules.

One this for sure was, you clearly both loved each other.

But that shouldn't have been affecting him so badly at work. It perturbed him that everywhere he went, too often even on his case that he thought of you. It disgusted him so much. He pushed all these thoughts away whenever it sprang into mind.

Wonwoo leaned back on his chair and turned from the evidence board he had been staring at for the last ten minutes, to the cup of coffee on his desk. He begins to recall one early morning he spent drinking some hot brew with you.

He smiles. Now that is a welcomed thought.

"I still don't get the correlation," Hansol spoke, making Wonwoo turn to him. He continues, "I'm starting to think that maybe the killer is just fully psychotic."

Wonwoo sighs, "the chances of him being a random picking killer is pretty slim at this point. Some of these girls are the same height and build, and some of them play the same instruments."

"Yes, but they have nothing collectively in common."

Wonwoo shakes his head, "there has to be. My gut is telling me there is."

Wonwoo's phone rings, except it's not his handphone but his work telephone.

"Hello, Detective Jeon from Seoul district 1 station."

No one replies, but there is heavy breathing from the other end. Wonwoo stands from his chair and presses the record button on his phone.

"You can't get her!" he growls in anger. He begins to scream and throw things in the background. Wonwoo pulls the phone away at the loudness.

The man on the other end heaves again. Wonwoo asks, "who is this."

"you know exactly who I am, you bastard!"

"No. If I did, you'd be in jail."

He laughs, "you think you're so good, huh?"

"Who and where are you?" Wonwoo asks, turning to Hansol pointing to the phone. He immediately understands and runs off to try and track who's calling form the other line, or at least where he is.

The man is shuddering in anger, "you will never have her. She's mine!"

Wonwoo feels bile rise from his throat, "who is she? Did you kill another girl?"

"Not yet, but I will if you don't back off. She's the only one I've actually loved and you want to take that away from me?"

"If you love her, why would you kill her?"

"SO YOU COULD NEVER LAY A FINGER ON WHAT'S MINE!"

"Women are not posses--"

"I WARNED YOU. STAY AWAY, OR SHE DIES!"

Hansol couldn't trace the call fast enough. And Wonwoo couldn't sleep that night.

This was when his visits began to lessen. He began to fully focus on his work again, no distractions, and for once, he hadn't thought of you. This was a direct consequence however of both sleep deprivation and not seeing you for a whole eight days.

The next day you visited him at work. It caused quite a commotion and Wonwoo's exhausted mind didn't take kindly to that, which was why he snapped at you and was super cold.

Hansol told him off for rudeness, but he just couldn't rest easy when he could do something at work that could help fins that lunatic serial killer. Chief Seungcheol agreed however that Wonwoo should take a break though.

The moment his head was put on straight, he felt extremely guilty for taking out his emotions on you. Wonwoo apologized profusely and of course you couldn't stay mad because you understood how much stress he was in.

But the thing was, he just couldn't get you out of his head. Again and again, everything he did reminded him of you. The evidence even lead him back to you like a compass and it was too much for him too handle.

This was exactly why it hurt so much when Wonwoo decided to let you go for the sake of the case.

He explained everything to you so neatly. "I am so madly in love with you that I see you everywhere. I see you in the sky. I see you in my coffee. I see you in the breeze. I see you in my sweaters. But I see you too in the evidence I have for the case. I see you in the files and the map board, and it's seriously messing with my head."

It was a line out of movie. It didn't mean it didn't hurt. You were crying your eyeballs out. You didn't understand what breaking up could do to help.

"You wouldn't be mine anymore, so that would incline me not to think about you."

You so badly wanted to slap Wonwoo for saying that, but you couldn't, because he was breaking up with you to catch a killer and prevent anymore murders from happening. If he was that bothered, he probably shouldn't be on the case anymore but you couldn't ask him to leave it when he was distracted because of you.

So instead, you turned away and left.

Wonwoo almost ran after you; it took everything in him not to.

"Don't worry, Jeon," Seungcheol comforted, placing a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder, "the sooner we catch the lunatic, the sooner you can get back with your girlfriend."

"Not unless I get her first," Chan from forensics chimes in, walking with new files of evidence.

"Dude," Hansol barks.

Chan gives an innocent face, "what? I'm trying to lighten the mood." He then hands the file over to Seungcheol, "here you go chief. The killer branded the latest victim's neck with three squares."

Wonwoo spins on his office chair.

Hansol knits his brows deeply, "has he done that with the other victims?"

"No. This is the first time."

Seungcheol places a hand on his chin, "wait. Why does this seem so familiar to me?"

Hansol watches Wonwoo begins to spin the other way around.

Seungcheol shakes his head and rattles his brain for some answer. He suddenly turns to Wonwoo, "ya. Do you know 'The Sleeping Tower'?"

Wonwoo turns to Seungcheol, "yeah, the killer in that drama marked his victims with three squares."

eSungcheol has goose bumps. Hansol turns to Wonwoo, "wait, what is The Sleeping Tower?"

Wonwoo says faux nonchalant, "a drama my ex is in."

Hansol pulls his head back.

Seungcheol moves to the evidence board, "wait just a second, Wonwoo. Did you say all the evidence point to her?"

Everyone shifts their attention to the chief. Wonwoo stops spinning on his chair, "are... are you telling me wh-"

"What do you see, Wonwoo?" Suengcheol asks.

Wonwoo stands form his chair and walks over. He begins to explain the correlation between you and the evidence and the... victims' personality. He argues with himself as he explained what he saw. As he pointed out one thing, he disagreed it could make sense. Wonwoo continued on like that until he actually hears himself say it. This is the first time he’s ever said all this aloud.

Hanson and Chan turn to each other in bewilderment as the detective being to point out strong points.

Wonwoo nearly falls down when he realizes it. Seungcheol turns to him, but Wonwoo's already bolted out the door.

Wonwoo is calling you nonstop. He's gripping the steering wheel so hard.

It all makes sense now. The shirts, the hobbies, the physical attributes, they were all yours. The victims had your merchandise, liked things you did, had procedures done to look like you-- they were your fangirls

And the killer was obsessed with you.

Wonwoo stepped on the gas and turned the siren on.

He screamed your name when he got to your home. You lived in a quiet apartment complex. The good thing about that is the people would be alerted by suspicious people and noise, there were bound to be at least eye witnesses, and there would be cameras in the area.

Wonwoo still had the keys to your apartment. His hands quivered as he jammed the key open.

Once he stepped in someone screamed, "YOU'RE TOO LATE!"

Wonwoo fumed as he saw a long haired man laughing as he stood an open window. He took a moment to assess that he has nothing but a twisted look on his face, he had nothing on his hands or clothes. He charged for him, which in hindsight may truly have been a bad move because he got kicked in the gut.

"I have nothing to live for anymore," he whispers as Wonwoo recoils at the assault. It enrages the detective, and it drives him with enough adrenaline that when the psychopath tires to jump out of the window, he catches him and sequentially bashes the guys face into the sill. He pulls him away and begins to assault his face.

Wonwoo is screaming with tears running down his face when it dawns to him the psychopath said it was too late. He pulls away from the knocked out man. He is shaking.

He screams your name and looks for you in every room. His mind is racing. He’s just too frantic to even begin to think what could have happened to you. He falls to his knees when he reaches the bathroom. There is red scattered everywhere and tub full of it. He makes a desperate sound.

He can't see properly from all his tears. He quickly crawls to the tub and heaves heavily when he sees the body in it.

Wonwoo's hand his trembling when he takes on of yours and feels for a pulse. His lips quiver when he can't find it. He turns to your submerged face and gently moves it to try and get a pulse from your neck. He reels back and makes a horrible sound when he finds a long slice that is gushing out red. Wonwoo at this point is sat on the wet ground, trembling with tears.

He is out of his wits.

He has no idea what to do.

He doesn't even notice that the police team is already here. The next thing he knows is he isn't in your apartment anymore. He is inside a police car, he thinks.

Wonwoo is numb to it all-- the sounds, the flashing lights.

He wonders how he wound up in his brother’s house, and how they both ended up crying in each other’s arms.

"Breaking News: After finally a week's worth of trial, the Supreme Court rules 25 year old Yoon Jeonghan triple life sentence after finding him guilty of the murder of 14 women. He admitted to his crimes and claimed they were out of love. He was a deeply obsessed fan on one if his victims, the actress who was recently given a memorial three days ago. Detective Jeon Wonwoo, who was head investor of the serial killing case, was awarded a medal of honor for apprehending Yoon, which he declined. Detective Jeon was also the boyfriend of the late actress, and was seen with his brother, Director Jeon Jungkook, at the service saying a few words in memoriam of the country's sweetheart."

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lovelycheollie · 3 years

Text

Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.” –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing. Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

“Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I’ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

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mochibrokenheart · 3 years

Text

SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort.

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself.

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death.

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position.

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

#svsss #svsss fanfic #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang

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jenoptimist · 3 years

Text

you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

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There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

#this took a much different turn than i thought it would andnsk #but i hope it was worth the read #also question: do my fics ever sound like a self-insert???? like i mean not reader insert but like y/n is me if that makes sense????????#cause i sure hope it doesnt omg its not meant to be i promise #i’ve been thinking about it recently cause of this tiktok i watched 😫#but yeah anyways i keep listening to first love + good time on repeat #when mark says ‘ur my my’ and ‘tell me tell me’ and sichengs parts in good time 🥲🥲#sicheng’s parts in good time has been my sole reason for existance lately #i felt it so deeply that AND his insta post from 2 weeks ago affected me so much that i started a draft for him #but i also have drafts for other members that im like hmmmmmmm #although i havent done a sicheng fic since i wrote that pocket!sized sicheng fic and also the smau i started #(and kind of abandoned but i’ll get back to it in the summer maybe)#also 7dream cb 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲#i’ll keep rambling if i don’t start typing the Official tags so here they are:#wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv fluff #wayv hendery #wayv kunhang #wong kunhang #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct hendery

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faulty-writes · 4 years

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How ab reader (who is All Mights daughter) turned into All for Ones successor after being neglected by All Might who’s been paying too much attention on Midoriya? You absolutely dont have to of course, but your recent fic w Todoroki was so great and I really wanted to see you write this! :)

[Oh, interesting. Let’s see what I can do with this. It turned out longer than I expected. Part two can be located here. ]

You stood in front of the mirror, black-covered your person. In addition to a black face shield that looked more like a military-style gas mask. You took a deep breath, your chest, your heart. Everything in your being felt numb except for a small little voice that echoed inside your head. Wondering if this was the right thing to do. You glanced down as All For One stood behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and though you couldn’t tell, he was smiling behind that mask of his. “You look beautiful. My successor,” he said, gently running his hand through your hair which caused you to shiver. You closed your eyes, your mind going back to how this all started.

You smiled as you ran down the hallway, your unruly blond hair bouncing everywhere before you reached your destination. You placed your hands on your knees, your heart racing as you tried to regain your breath. You had gotten so excited that you ran from the other side of the U.A. building. Aizawa had scolded you for running and gave a sore expression as you asked where your father was. You didn’t understand his dislike toward All Might and you partly wondered if jealousy had anything to do with it. But eventually, you had gotten an answer and proceeded to the teacher’s lounge.

“Father!” you shouted as you opened the door, holding up the piece of paper you happened to have gotten an A+ on and you were eager to get a little praise from your father. Unfortunately, he seemed too preoccupied talking to Midoriya, they were sitting across from each other and it was almost as if you weren’t even there. You lowered your arm and frowned, “Father?” you said again, crossing your arms with a pout as you continued to watch him speak to Midoriya. You growled and approached them, clearing your throat which finally seemed to catch your father’s attention. “Hm?” he turned his head.

Midoriya’s head turned as well, “Ah, y/n!” your father said with a smile but somehow you believed it was fake. “I called you twice …” you muttered, your arms still crossed as you glanced away. “Oh …” All Might chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I suppose I was too invested in the conversation with young Midoriya,” you growled, narrowing your eyes at the green-haired boy. You were envious of him being your father’s successor. You were All Might’s daughter, shouldn’t you have gotten that privilege? Even if your quirk wasn’t related to your father’s. You were still looked at as a strong hero, but no.

He chose Midoriya, who couldn’t even use his quirk without hurting himself. At least, in the beginning, you would admit the green-haired boy had improved, but so had you. You had faced off with many villains and found yourself in some situations you would rather forget. But you always came out alive and what did your father do? He praised Midoriya instead. Frankly, you were getting sick of being neglected by your own father. “I see …” you replied in a flat tone. “What do you need, y/n?” All Might questioned.

You huffed, “Nothing …” you grumbled, “Enjoy your conversation with Midoriya.” you muttered before walking out of the room. “Wait, y/n!” your father called, but you ignored him. What was the point? You hated to admit it and maybe you were being selfish, but you were the one that deserved your father’s attention. Not Midoriya, not anyone else. You groaned and reached up to tug your hair as you made your back down the hallway. Crumbling up the paper before tossing it into a nearby trash can. It was pretty worthless now, not even good grades could tear your father’s attention away from Midoriya.

You made your way to the courtyard and pulled out your phone, feeling so frustrated your eyes began to water. You growled before your phone vibrated. “Huh?” you blinked, trying to clear your vision before looking at the screen. A text message from an unknown number popped up and you paused, a little confused. Did someone text you by accident? You scratched your head before reading the text and it caused a shiver to run down your spine. ‘It’s tiring being the daughter of All Might, is it not?’

No one apart from Midoriya and your teachers knew you were All Might’s daughter, though many teased you about your similarity to All Might. You had your differences as well, including your quirks. But whoever was texting you obviously knew and that in itself was scary enough. Your hands were shaking as you held your phone, who else could have found out you were All Might’s daughter? Was this just a prank? Was Midoriya trying to get you back for something? No, he wouldn’t be that cruel. You were almost too afraid to text back, your thumbs trembling as they hovered over your phone.

Your mind was blank as to what to say, but you typed out the question, ‘Who are you?’ and pressed send. Your mind was trying to reason with you that it was probably someone you knew, maybe they changed their number. Maybe not ...you groaned. Trying to keep calm as your phone vibrated again. ‘A friend. We’ll be in touch soon.’ you blinked. A friend, what the hell? Your hands tightened around your phone, somehow you knew this wasn’t a joke. But you couldn’t help yourself and typed out another reply. ‘A friend? Tell me who you are!’ you pressed send only to have your phone tell you the message wasn’t sent.

You lowered your phone, the anger you felt was gone. Now replaced with a feeling of fear and curiosity. Your stare was distant, too lost in your own thoughts. “Y/n!” you gasped and your stance was stiff as you watched your father run up to you. “There you are …” he said, placing a hand to his chest as he tried to regain his breath. That anger sparked a little and you glared at your father before crossing your arms. “What do you want …” you muttered, All Might frowned and placed his hand on your shoulder which you shrugged off.

“Perhaps I deserve this …” he muttered to himself as he rubbed the back of his head. It was hard, having a daughter and at times he didn’t know how to treat you. If he was being honest, sometimes you confused him and he wondered why it seemed so easy for other parents to take care of their children. Yet he was struggling. He let out a sigh and reached out for your shoulder again, his grip firm so you couldn’t shake him away. “Y/n, please do not be angry with me,” he said, his voice soft and it almost made you want to roll your eyes.

How could you not be angry at him? You grumbled, “It wouldn’t kill you to pay attention to me every once in a while.” you confessed, your cheeks turning red. All Might blinked and removed his hand, “Uh …” he wasn’t sure how to respond and gave an awkward chuckle. “Well, I …” the truth was, he wanted to give you all the attention he could. But between his work as a teacher and a hero, it was almost impossible to find any time in between. But perhaps he could try, though at the moment there was a more pressing matter. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent dilemma. We are tracking the League of Villains and All For One seems to be planning something.” he shared and your face dropped, your phone still in your hand.

“All For One?” you questioned, you had heard of him. Apparently, he was your father’s archenemy. The one that had given him that grave injury, but beyond that. You knew very little, he was a bad guy that was clear. He seemed to guide the League of Villains or so you thought. He was feared and part of you shuddered to think about what would happen if you met him face to face. If you had to fight against him, more than likely you’d fail. You swallowed and took a step toward All Might. “Yeah? So why are you telling me, shouldn’t your successor Midoriya be the first one you tell?” you questioned, letting your jealousy show once more.

All Might groaned, “I have already informed Young Midoriya, as well as Togata and Amajiki.” you raised your eyebrow, “So …” you tapped your foot against the ground. “I’m the last one you tell?” you inquired and yet another groan came from your father. “You are not the last one,” he said, his hand raised in the air. Clearly, he was getting frustrated at your behavior. “I came here because I recommended you for the mission.” he explained and your foot came to a stop, “What?” you questioned, a little shocked. He had picked you to be a part of a mission alongside Midoriya? Maybe this was your chance to finally prove yourself.

“You want me to be part of the mission?” you questioned and All Might narrowed his eyes, you could tell there was a sigh just waiting to slip. But instead, he nodded. “Yes,” he said and you shook your head. “When is this mission? It’s not tomorrow is it-” All Might raised his hand again, signaling you to stop talking. “Yes, you are to meet outside the gates of U.A. before departing.” your jaw hung open, “B-But tomorrow is the weekend and-” he glared at you. “Is that a problem?” you frowned, not liking the tone he spoke in. But nonetheless, you decided it best not to argue. “No sir,” you replied and it seemed to please All Might.

“Very well, I expect to see you tomorrow then. Bright and early.” you nodded, though your eyes were slit as you watched him walk away. Once he was out of sight, you looked at your phone. That eerie feeling coming back, but you knew you had better things to worry about than a text right now. Tomorrow was the start of a mission, you hadn’t exactly volunteered for. But damned, if you weren’t going to take the chance. You’d show your father why you should be his successor. Though you held no real reason apart from your own jealousy for hating Midoriya. Either way, this was war and you’d win.

You looked to the sky before turning to walk back to the dorm building. You’d need plenty of rest if you were going to give it your best tomorrow. At the crack of dawn, you were up. Quickly slipping your hero suit on and meeting up with Midoriya, Togata, and Amajiki before you all walked over to the gates of U.A., meeting up with All Might who gave you the rundown of the mission in more detail. It seems an anonymous tip had led them to find what they assumed was All For One’s hideout. They weren’t for certain, but the mission was clear enough. Infiltrate and search. Do not engage in combat unless absolutely necessary. Play defense first unless your life was in absolute danger.

You thought it was going to be simple, you were great at combat. The ride there was a little boring and the fact that it looked to be an abandoned building was a little questionable. But all the windows were intact and they almost looked like they had been cleaned. That raised a red flag but you decided to keep quiet about it. After all, the cleanliness of villains wasn't your main objective. “This is exciting huh guys? I know it’s usually a good idea to stick together, but I say we split up and take each side of the building. Find an entrance and make sure our communicators are on.” Lemillion suggested, smiling brightly as always.

Though you had a bad feeling in your stomach, the sun was fading behind the treeline and it was growing dark. Chances are you were less likely to be caught in darkness, so you reluctantly agreed. Suneater seemed a little uneasy to be venturing off on his own, but with a pep talk from Mirio he bit back his fear. You made sure your communicator was on before taking your position on the far side of the building. You took a moment to analyze your surroundings, figuring out how to slip in without being caught and without making noise. You had decided an old fashioned method would work best and ended up cutting a piece of the window out before climbing inside.

You found yourself on a separate floor than the one you believed you were on, strange. Could this mean this hideout went underground? It was dark and you could make out several boxes filled with God knows what. There was a rack of vials sitting on top of one of them and you curiously approached, there was some type of pink liquid floating in it. You narrowed your eyes and though were tempted to take one, you remembered the instructions All Might had laid out and continued forward. You wondered if that was the quirk enhancing drug you heard about a while back. More than likely, but you shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

You kept your eyes peeled, everything was so quiet. The only sound that echoed was the creak of the floor every time you took a step. The walls looked bare and rusty, at least you hoped it was rust or mold. “Huh?” you blinked when you noticed you were heading for a dead end. “What!?” you snapped and ran toward it, your hand out to touch the wall. You looked around, there was no door, no window, no nothing. “What the hell!?” you snapped, your voice echoing and for a moment you hoped that your teammates didn’t hear you.

Some mission this was. How the hell were you expected to prove yourself on a mission like this? You clenched your jaw, suddenly feeling angry. Your mind flashed with images of All Might and Midoriya. “Why …” you growled your hand curling into a fist against the wall. “This isn’t fair!” you slammed your hand against the wall, ignoring the dull pain in your knuckles. “I’m his daughter, I should …” you took a deep breath, no ...you couldn’t risk ruining the mission because of your feelings. Despite knowing that, you closed your eyes and felt angry tears.

But before you could wipe them away, you felt your phone vibrate which caused your eyes to snap back open. “Hm?” you swallowed and reached into your pocket. The screen illuminated your face and a chill ran down your spine as you read the words ‘Look ahead’ your hands were shaking as you lowered your phone and looked, at first you saw nothing but darkness. But then …a scream caught in your throat as you saw movement and you stumbled back against the wall. Watching the figure of a man appear, he looked to be wearing a black suit and some strange type of head equipment.

He chuckled at your reaction, “Now, now there’s no need to be afraid.” he said as he continued to close the distance. You swallowed and quickly took a fighting stance. “Now that isn’t wise,” he said, but you only narrowed your eyes. “Who are you …” you demanded with a hiss and gained another chuckle from him. “Why, I’m just a friend who has seen you suffer at the hands of All Might for too long. It isn’t easy being the daughter of Toshinori Yagi, is it?” you pressed your teeth together before glancing at your phone and almost as if the man knew what you were thinking, he spoke.

“Yes, I’m that friend,” he confirmed with a nod and you dropped your phone, your heart racing inside your chest. “What do you want …” you said, your voice somewhat shaky before you kicked off the ground, ready to fight. But it was unwise for a hero to jump in blindly. At the moment, you didn’t care. You growled as you got closer, but you hadn’t anticipated the power he held and a cry left your lips as a powerful force pushed you back. You collided with the wall, pain immediately shooting through your spine. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as you slumped to the floor.

“There now, I know some lessons are painful,” he emphasized this by curling his hand into a fist. “But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to the pain All Might has put you through.” you cough, droplets of blood seeping from your mouth as your vision spun. “W-What are you talking about?” you hissed and the man kneeled before you. “I know all about you, Y/n,” he said as he reached to take hold of your chin, keeping your eyes focused on him. “I am All For One.” you clenched your jaw, anger boiling inside you. “And?” you questioned, daring him to continue to speak.

“I have seen how he neglects you, always paying attention to his successor. His student, Izuku Midoriya. Even your greatest accomplishment goes unnoticed because he only has eyes for one and it’s not you.” you swallowed, feeling your heart sink but All For One continued. “You want to prove your worth, but All Might is too blind to see. It’s a shame he treats his own child this way but I ...I see potential in you.” potential? For a second, you felt your heart flutter. Could someone else really see what you were so desperately trying to get your father to? You swallowed, even so. You were a hero or so you believed.

“N-No!” you smacked his hand away, staggering back to your feet. “I don’t care ...I ...as angry as my father makes me I-” he growled and reached out, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You cried out and immediately started scratching at his hand, your nails creating deep red cuts. But All For One didn’t seem to care and the cuts just healed themselves. “I’m afraid I will have to disagree, it’s a shame when young students like yourself don’t take the easy way out.” The last thing you remembered was seeing those red demon-like eyes through his facial gear and an intense burning feeling. It started from the inside out and your blood splattered everywhere.

Unknown to you, your unconscious and bloody body laid on the floor and All For One wiped your blood off his hand. He then leaned over, reaching out to cup your bloody cheek which had a deep burn on it. He leaned close to your ear, “All Might will show his true colors to you in the hospital.” he then stood back up and disappeared into the darkness, your fellow teammates were a little luckier when they faced off with All For One. But by the end of the mission, the heroes had lost and were transferred to the nearest hospital. A few days passed after that and your injuries while still serve, were more or less stable.

You were still in pain, your insides felt as though they were melted and it pained you to sit up. “What happened …” you muttered to yourself and turned your head when you heard someone else speak. “All For One happened …” you blinked as you stared at Midoriya, he was bandaged up from head to toe and it looked like he had been burned as well. A soft growl came from your throat, out of all the people you could share a room with. It had to be Midoriya. “You’re my father’s successor, shouldn’t you have stopped him?” you replied, a petty tone in your voice as you crossed your arms. Midoriya frowned, he already felt bad but your words dragged him further into his own negative emotions.

“You know, not everyone is as lucky as you. You’re all Might’s daughter ...aren’t you? Why couldn’t you have stopped him?” you tightened your fists, throwing the blanket over your legs. You were ready to fight Midoriya but before you could swing your legs over the bed, you heard your father’s voice. “Y/n, Young Midoriya!” you turned your head, watching as your father’s figure leaned against the doorway. He looked terrified though you noticed his eyes drifted to Midoriya. “Father,” you replied and he held his arms out. “Thank goodness you’re alright,” he said and you smiled, waiting for his hug.

After all, you assumed All Might was going to hug you first. But you watched as he ran over to Midoriya, his arms wrapping around him tight and you noticed the smile that came to his face as he hugged the green-haired boy. Your arms began to tremble and your hands closed into tight fists, you didn’t care that your nails dug into your palms. Anger continued to build inside you the longer you stared at your father hugging what should have been you. You lowered your head, another growl coming. “THAT’S IT!” you snapped, standing on your feet despite the pain that riddled your body.

Your shouting made Midoriya and All Might jump and All Might’s eyes widened. “Y/n!” he snapped, “Get back in bed right now, you need to rest.” he insisted as he walked over to you with his hands out. “Shut up!” you snapped as you slapped his hands away, the sound echoing through the hospital room and your eyes began to tear over. “I’m right here and you choose to hug him!” you pointed a shaky finger toward Midoriya, clearly fuming. You stomped your foot and All Might took a step back, “I am your daughter and all you ever do is keep hurting me!” you cried, recalling All For One’s words. Maybe he was right.

Maybe you had potential somewhere else, maybe you had potential with All For One. “You’re the person that’s supposed to love me the most!” Midoriya blinked, just watching your display of anger before sliding off his bed. “Y/n,” he said as he approached you, but you only glared at him. “Shut up! Bastard!” Midoriya frowned, “I think it's time you stopped this! You want to know why All Might didn’t choose you to be his successor?! It’s because you let your emotions blind you!” he screamed back and you chuckled, “Me?” you questioned as you pointed a finger toward yourself.

“You should be one to talk.” you hissed, walking up to him. The two of you literally budding heads. All Might stood there, looking between you two. “Young Midoriya, Y/n. Do not fight,” he said, trying to step between but you only felt your anger deepen. You pushed your hands against your father’s chest. “Of course, defend him yet again. Pay attention to him, yet again! It’s all about him isn’t it!?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes. All Might looked at you, his jaw dropped. “Y/n ...I …” you didn’t let him finish as you began to walk away. “I’m done with you!” the burns though mostly healed, coursed with a dull ache as you walked out of the door.

You ran down the hallway which seemed surprisingly empty, tears were still streaming down your cheeks and you tried to wipe them away. “Stupid ...s-stupid!” you muttered to yourself before looking around, you appeared to be in a waiting room but it was as empty as the hallway. That was unusual for a hospital. “Peaceful isn’t it?” you jumped and turned around. Your heart racing as you looked to see All For One. How did he get here? Wait a minute. You looked behind you, the empty waiting room unchanged. “D-Did you do this?” you questioned and he chuckled, “Does that matter?” he said as he approached you and laid his hands on your shoulders. Somehow it felt comforting, unlike your father.

“I told you that you couldn’t trust All Might did I not?” you cringed, looking away. You didn’t want to say anything, “Doesn’t it hurt to know you’ll never be his successor? That you’ll never match up to Izuku Midoriya?” you felt nauseous, physically sick at the mention of his name. “I …” no, how dare he say that. “I will ...I will match up to him! I will beat him! Somehow!” you snapped and All For One chuckled. “You’re right ...you will,” he said as he dropped his hands but you tilted your head, clearly confused at his words. “What do you mean?” you questioned and watched as he stretched his hand out to you.

“Join me ...as my successor. I will give you the guidance, the love you deserve. I will teach you everything you need to know to surpass Izuku Midoriya and no one will think twice about your worth.” those words made your heart race, could he really? He was a villain and yet ...he had already shown you more kindness than your own father and it seems like he believed in you. Another chuckle came, “Yes, I do believe in you, y/n.” he said which caused you to jump. Was one of his quirk’s mindreading? His hand was still out, just waiting for you to take it.

“I chose you, consider yourself special,” he added and you hesitantly reached out. When your hand touched his palm, you noticed how warm it was. Almost like it was the hand you were meant to take your whole life. You took a deep breath, not giving it any further thought. “I want to be your successor. I want to show my father, All Might, that he should have chosen me. That I will succeed where Midoriya fails.” you replied, tightening your grip on his hand. He pulled you close, “Excellent.” he said and you could already see a successful future as All For One’s successor.

#Anonymous #bnha fanfiction #all for one x reader #bnha requests #bnha reader insert

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secret-time-is-here · 3 years

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An Error’s Journey

Chapter 2

Previous - First - Next

TW: Talk of sex, Injections, Trauma, and Character Death.

After lunch, Sci was quick to make his way back to the Lab, excited to see Lust again, but also oh so close to a breakthrough. Gaster laughed at his immaturity.

Sans, he’s still going to be there when we get back. Gaster signed, You act as if you’re lovesick for him… Sci slowed down, eye lights small. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize?

“Shush, old man,” Sci spoke through his fluster, his father only chuckled in response.

Do you want me to give you two some privacy? Gaster joked, Sci pulling up the hood of his hoodie, hoping to hide the growing blush across his cheeks. Alright, alright, I’ll stop. It’s the first time you’ve taken an interest in someone, I have to get some teasing in.

“I’ve had plenty of crushes...” he scoffed, pushing his hands in his pockets.

Keep telling yourself that. Gaster rolled his eye, You’ve always focused on your education, your thirst for information, and science outrivals that of a dehydrated monster. I was starting to think you’d never find someone, or at the least, never have any true friends.

The two of them slowed to a stop, right in front of the lab doors. I honestly don’t care if you never have a lover, or if you make a lot of friends, I just want you to be happy and have people that you can fall back on and trust.

His father pulled him close, and for a moment, they shared a quiet hug.

After the heartfelt moment, they both walked into the Lab, Lust already waiting for them, back in his spot on the counter.

“Welcome back you two,” Lust smiled, and Sci’s soul soared; maybe he is a little lovesick. “What was that breakthrough you were talking about, Sci?”

Gaster moved over to his desk, and Sci sat at his own, Lust pulling up a chair next to him.

“Well, I was considering something painfully obvious but possibly the solution.” the other raised a brow in question, “What if we used the counter chemicals of the original injection?”

“You think I haven’t tried that already?”

“We do it in reverse order.” He received a blank stare, “Then we mix it with the original injection.”

That may be crazy enough to work Sans, Gaster appeared behind them, What do we need to make it?

-----

It was late into the day when they decided to stop, the first ingredient needing to simmer overnight before they can use it.

Gaster excused himself, heading home. Sci and Lust agree to hang out for a bit, finding a quiet place in a hidden cave of waterfall, they relax.

“So, what’s going to happen when the cure’s finished?”

“Hopefully, my underground can get to the surface, and I can finally have peace.” Lust closes his eyes as he settles in, laying back with his arms behind his head, “Excuse my language, but I can’t fucking wait to comfortably sleep under big fluffy blankets again. This heat is just absolutely unbearable most days.”

Sci laughs softly, happy to see his friend relaxing, but, that wasn’t exactly the answer he wanted.

“...what’s going to happen to us?”

“What do ya mean?” Lust questions, eyes opening slightly to glance at Sci, who’s sitting criss-cross next to him.

“Are we going to stay friends?”

“If you want to, although I wouldn’t mind being more, honestly.” Lust chuckles, seeing the blush that lit up Sci’s face, “Sorry, too forward? Never really asked someone out before.”

“...I wouldn’t mind being more either.” He eventually speaks up.

“Do you wanna go on a date sometime…?” Sci asked where, “Just thinking of a movie at my house, since my whole AU is aware of the multiverse, it won’t be a problem if you’re seen.”

“That sounds great,” Sci speaks softly, laying back with Lust, letting himself slightly lean on his lover.

Stars, he has a lover now. That’s a copy of himself. Yet he’s different, why is he trying to justify this?

“...I need to tell you something.” Sci hmms softly, happy to be given a distraction from the inner dilemma, “I really do like you, Sci, and I’ve kept you in the dark about this long enough. Since we’re dating now, it’s only fair you know what the sickness my AU has really is.”

Lust breathes in deeply for a moment, before explaining in a gloomy voice, keeping his eyes away from Sci’s gaze.

He carefully explains that after the royal children died in his AU, and after the Queen left the King, everyone was hopeless. There was no joy. The King searched for some joy that could take their mind off the tragedy that had struck the Royal family and quaked through the underground. Their Royal Scientist came up with an answer, intimacy.

The Royal Scientist invented an injection, one that would give them a heat akin to an animal's mating cycle, so they wouldn’t have to think about the hopelessness anymore. Shortly after the discovery, the Royal Scientist fell into the Core, and only Lust remembers him now. His name erased from history and time itself. Since the Royal Scientist is gone, Lust is credited with the discovery.

Lust closed his eyes, and Sci opened his mouth to speak, but Lust wasn’t finished.

He was fine with being credited for it for a time, but as his Papyrus grew up, and was nearly of age to take the injection-just years away, he started searching for a cure.

He gave up hope for a time, tired of finding nothing but dead ends, and let go of himself for a while. That is until Ace fell into the underground and gave everyone hope again. Even after Humanity gave their demands, everyone being cured of the sickness, not everyone is on board with letting go of the injection. It’s become a drug to the underground.

Thankfully several people are on his side, including the new Royal Scientist to who he gave up his position, and the Captain of the Royal Guard. In addition, a robot that the new Royal Scientist made is working with the general public to change their mind. With Ace also helping, it shouldn’t be long until everyone’s minds are changed.

Lust refused to open his eyes after the story, or even face Sci’s direction. Sci hugged him.

“I don’t care about the real reason. I like you, and I don’t care that you’re stuck with this sickness.”

“You don’t care that I have to lay with others either?”

“If it’s what you have to do to stay alive, no.” Lust gave him a wide smile, and hugged him back, crying thankyous into his shoulder.

Everyone belongs to their respected creators

#Undertale #Fanfic #An Error's journey #AEJ #AEJ chapter 2 #Chapter 2 #Underlust sans #Lust #Science sans #Sci #Gaster #Papyrus

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desire-tenderness · 3 years

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I will return to old Brazil

I’m three weeks away in New York on a laser and independence trip, I miss home. It’s only two days away and soon I’m back in Brazil to meet my family and friends. I was taking the opportunity to organize some of the things, like some clothes and documents, that’s when I missed my passport. “Where did it go, my God?! My credit card was on the cover. I’ve turned this apartment upside down and can’t find it anywhere. There’s no way I lost! This shit only happens to me. I only have two more days stay in this Irbnb, how will I solve the problem of passport loss in two days without my credit card!? I don’t have a penny more.” [ranting, going into outbreak] “OK, relax, I’m smart! I need to raise money for at least another day or two, I have enough for daily meals. Well, didn’t I want to experience something unique and inspiring? Here’s a chance to have a tragic story to tell and laugh at later.” [I thought out loud] “I can manage as a street performer, starting tomorrow. I take my ukulele and some blank sheets of paper and make illustrations of pedestrians, I hope to reap the benefits of that. The last place I remember seeing my passport was yesterday when I was at the MoMA. Now I need to go back there and hope that I find in the "lost and found" of the place.” [The next day] I woke up early today and I’m already on my way to Central Park, hoping to find a space on Bethesda Terrace to play. The first time I went I saw a young man playing the cello so beautifully, it made me overflow with emotion. I played some songs, I noticed that I had a very positive return looking at the cover of Ukulele, I was curious to tell how much money I had made with those 5 songs played. It’s quite amazing the satisfaction of playing there, people seem to want to hear me play. I thought of ending with Naive - The Kooks and so I did. - I'm not saying it was your fault Although you could have done more Oh, you're so naïve, yet so.. {music}

Soon formed a circle of people singing together, I was shivered, did not imagine that The Kooks still had an audience. A little girl left $16 on the cover of the instrument, it made me float. With less than a minute to go, I saw a wonderfully attractive boy, at least 15 feet away, "do I know you?" I thought while I messed up a song. At the end of the last song I thanked him and forced my eyes to reach the boy again, but he was no longer there. The minute I thanked her, the same little girl started pulling a leather saying "one more, one more". I didn’t have a repertoire anymore and I couldn’t think of anything. The sky was with an attractive texture and the climate had a palette of color that sent me the song Postcards From Italy - Beirut and without thinking too much about whether or not it made sense for the moment, I started playing and singing. As I played, I closed my eyes to feel the instrumental climax of the song that was approaching. And when I opened my eyes the same boy I saw from afar was standing in front of me watching my show. Who was he? Timothée Chalamet. My whole body was frozen with the fright, but I didn’t want to leave anything evident. If I showed my anxiety, that space would turn into an afternoon of autographs and I don’t want to take your time. Did he give me money? The cover of the instrument had received more notes of paper, but for being with eyes closed I could not see. He smiled and nodded, turned away. I kept silent. Second then I hurried thanking everyone for my return, guarding my instrument and taking my bag. I run after him. - Hey! Timo! He turned at the same second, confused, trying to find who called him. He must have noticed me tightening my stride to get close to him as soon as possible. - Hi! Our is a pleasure, I can’t believe it’s really you. I let you go so you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but I needed to talk to you and thank you for listening to me play and a lot of other stuff. Sorry, I’m talking too much, all right? I spoke so fast that I hardly breathed. He laughed. - Hi, Beirut, huh? It goes well with today’s weather. It was nice! Am I well and you? Alias, your name? - Do you like Beirut? Gee. My name is (xxxx) but it doesn’t matter now. - Yes, you do. Are you from New York? - No, I come from Brazil. I’m traveling.. The words were disappearing from my mind as the minutes passed, I was somewhat hypnotized. - Cool! I really want to see Brazil someday. Do you want a photo? - Man I want a photo yes. I never thought that moment would be here and now. We took the photo, he thanked me for coming to him and for me playing with such emotion. He finally said that it was "very harmonious". And with a lot of pain in my heart I let him go. "Gee, I met Timothée chalamet two days before returning to Brazil! I must confess that fate has killed, just bring my passport back." [I thought out loud] Arriving at the Moma I received the terrible news that my passport was not there, it was my only hope going down the drain. I wanted to cry out of desperation, but I was also totally happy to have met Timothée and to have taken a picture that I will keep for the rest of my life. "I wish I’d been calmer and sane, I guess I just thought I was crazy. I hope he hasn’t noticed my despair, anxiety and complete fascination. Well, back to what I need to focus on.. Do I get some freelance work at some designer studio? Well, it could be a coffee shop. " The day has gone by so fast, the clock is almost 4:00 p.m. I think I’ll have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, and I’ll get a job, if that’s not too embarrassing. I thought I’d walk around the West Village and find some cool coffee over there. Said and done, I found a coffee visibly attractive and had a delicious smell coming out the door, but it was empty. I think this is the perfect opportunity for a presentation, so I’m gonna eat something first. I ordered a latte and a lobster, one of my favorite treats. That crispy puff pastry, filled with vanilla cream, caramel and flor de sal makes me roll my eyes. I ate with such desire that I began to remember how surprising my day was. I thought I would make an illustration of the Timothée, a drawing of how I met him, the ambience was delicious to draw in peace and so I did. I noticed that someone came through the cafeteria door, I heard the sound of the door open. It was him, he was again in the same environment as me. The coincidence was so much that I could hardly believe it, I kept my calm. He sat across the room, pretended not to see it.

On the local radio started playing First date - Blink, obviously I started singing and trying to finish my drawing as soon as possible, who knows he could see before going. "Lets go! Don’t Wait! this night’s Almost over Honest, Let’s make this night last Forever' {Music} Suddenly someone came to my table and put a glass of Vanilla Malt and a snack with a great smell. When I looked up he completed the harmony. - Forever and Ever, Let’s make this last Forever. Hi again! "Are you kidding that this is really happening? And if it is not? Well, I will act as if I were dreaming, I can do better in this communication" - I don’t believe it. This is crazy, what are you doing here at my table?! - Would you like me to leave? - You’re crazy, of course not, sit down, please! - So, what are you doing? Wait, that’s... that’s me?! Fuck! [He pointed to the drawing] - hãnn yes, look.. this coincidence I will never live again. Now in my head I go through a cruel dilemma. - Which would it be? Excuse me. [He took the marvelous drawing and took a photo] - Should I finish it and give it to you, or should I ask for an autograph and frame it? - Hmm look.. my autograph is nothing, I would ruin the drawing, but it’s so awesome, I would love it if it was mine, but I took a picture, it’s worth the frame! - Arranged, Mr. Chalamet. I told him about my passport drama and how distressed I was. His face of "Holy shit, I’m sorry, you’ll have a headache" didn’t help. But he offered me real help with this red tape. "Does that mean I’ll see you beyond today?!" - Okay, you’re tense. Let’s break the ice by relaxing with a theatrical technique. I say a word, you think fast and say the first one that pops into your head. -Okay... Can I get started? [What’s going on here? ] -Yes, of course, yes! - Silver - Gold - Desire - Fire - Friend - you - Call me by your name - And I call you by mine. Oh shit! [laughed with his hand in his mouth] - That’s pretty cool hahaha let me ask. What are you going to do now? I’m really surprised to see you "living normally" - It is sometimes I get this feat. But anyway, I have no plans. - Do you want to go to the street cinema and see what classic is going on today? - My God, yes I am, thank you for the suggestion. We left the cafeteria and I didn’t ask for a job, I don’t regret it, my day is being fucking awesome. We went to the cinema of East Village and Singing in the rain was on display, that was perfect! I’ll watch one of my favorite movies with Timothée, it’s the fourth time I’ve pinched myself and I notice it’s not a dream. This day cannot end. We took the tickets and entered without him being stopped or recognized, I was relieved. And sitting next to him in a movie theater, all I could think about was how I wanted to be able to take his hand, kiss it as classically as the movie we’re watching. He made a story, I’m dying to open my phone and see, knowing that I’m next to him and nobody else but me and he knows, fuck!

At the end of the movie we came out, another coincidence or not, it was raining. I had my instrument and drawing sheets in my purse, but I wanted to literally sing in the rain, only without an umbrella. I dropped everything on the stairs and called him into this brief shower of rain. EPIC. I danced and sang in the rain with Timothée Chalamet and he seems absurdly happy about it.

We end with: "Come on with the Rain I have a Smile on my face I walk down the Lane With a happy refrain Just Singin', Singin' in the Rain" - Do you fancy a bagel or something? - I’m in! Tompkins? - Sure, and you have better? I answer, no way. - That’s so sweet, come on! And so we continued, hungry, laughing and wet. I think he appreciates moments like this, you can see in his eyes extreme pleasure and relief, that’s beautiful. The hunger was so great that we ate 3 bagels with bacon, eggs and cheese. We were wet so we ordered for the trip and ate outside. During the final bites we’ll talk about my passport again. - Where was the last time you saw him and when did you realize he was gone? - The last time was in Moma, the day before yesterday. But I went back there and they did not find.. I realized last night when I was starting to leave part of the suitcases ready to "go back to Brazil tomorrow". - Have you looked in the pockets of the clothes you wore when you went to Moma? - I looked at that jacket 10 times and I couldn’t find it. - Why do you think it’s in my jacket? I always carry a full pair of pants. - My God this is so obvious! I took the laundry to the building, if it is there I owe you my life. - Stop it. Can I go with you and film you finding your passport? [He laughed] - That if I find, will know a mix of relief, gratitude and anger. [laughs together] - Come on.

Yes, my passport and credit card were always "with me", were in the inside pocket of the pants as he had said. I was about to explode with relief!

I was ready to corrupt the good impression made during the day, but I was so excited and happy that I jumped in his lap grabbing his neck and kissing his cheeks.

He was silent as he stared at me confused as he held my thighs around his waist. I felt his breath on my neck, I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to.

- I’m sorry, really, I’m just happy. Thank you. - Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m glad you found it. Do you still want that autograph? - Of course! [ He signed my drawing and took another picture of it, but this time with me holding the art. ]

- Sing one last song before I go. - My God that hard, I don’t know. Huh.. Sing with me? - If I know. Then I started singing Marvin Gaye’s Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, he seemed surprised. "Just call my name I’ll be there in a Hurry You don’t have to Worry'Cause, baby, there Ain’t no mountain high enough Ain’t no Valley low enough Ain’t no river wide enough To Keep me from Getting to you, baby" We laughed and finished. I was almost crying. Shame, I’m not a child. - So that’s it, I will be eternally grateful for today. Thank you and good luck girl, it was a pleasure. He turned and opened the door, waved his hand. And I recited.. "Now, when Twilight dims the sky above Recalling Thrills of our love There’s one Thing I’m Certain of I will Return to old Brazil" He smiled and came back to me, kissing my forehead. - Until one day, anywhere in the world. - See you, Timolito. He came out and I cried. {This is a fanfic. All I write about is my feelings and desires. TEXT BY: L.M }

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #fanfic #nova york

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