#this is some heavy stuff folks pls be safe while reading

[savventeen]

carmen cygni

latin, meaning 'swan song' a metaphorical phrase for a final gesture, effort, or performance given just before death or retirement

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader rating: M wc: 1.7k prompt: @caratober day 20 - zombie summary: while out searching for supplies, you get bit trying to escape a small hoard of zombies. seungcheol is forced to do the unthinkable. warnings: angst, seriously so much angst, all hurt no comfort, major character death (you), blood, guns, mercy killing, mentions of suicide, brief suicidal ideation tags: zombie au, seriously this is just pain guys i'm warning you, non-linear narrative, flashbacks, some mild religious talks a/n: this was originally a vmin fic i posted to ao3 (on valentine's day of all things holy shit was i okay) and decided to repost here for caratober. i am so sorry. (also fun fact it was the first time i'd ever cried while writing a fic :') this song is 98% to blame for this

five.

"Seungcheol."

It's the way you say his name that tells him something is very, very wrong. The syllables are weighted, heavy, resigned — two stones dropped in the ocean, sinking fast into a suffocating oblivion.

You say his name like the world is ending all over again.

Seungcheol finishes barricading the door from the pack of roamers outside, goosebumps rising on his skin through his sweat as dread courses through him in an icy wave, and he turns.

The first thing he sees is the blood. It's coated your hand where you have it pressed to your right side, just above the hip.

"Fuck, y/n—" His mind is immediately sent spiraling into an anxious overdrive, wondering when and how and where you could have gotten hurt, whether the basic supplies you have between the two of you will be enough until the roamers leave and you can make it back to camp, if—

And then you lift your hand, revealing the wound. It's messy, flesh torn and bleeding steadily — but despite all of that, it's impossible to miss the distinct impression of a set of human teeth.

You've been bit.

You've been bit, and the world drops out from beneath Seungcheol's feet.

"No." He stumbles closer, trembling fingers reaching out and stopping just shy of the wound, before looking into your watery eyes. "No."

It's a command if he's ever given one — because with all of the things the both of you have had to suffer through, had to see and hear and experience these last few years, this had never been a possibility. Never.

Never like this. Never you.

The hand not covering your bite comes up and fists into the front of his shirt. "Cheol."

A million things go unsaid with that single syllable, but Seungcheol can hear them all, can see each one etched into your devastated expression. And because he will always, always, put your needs above his own, he shoves all the crumbling pieces of his own heart down and down and away, instead making room for you to step into his arms and cry against his chest — a mourning for something that has yet to be lost.

You grieve, and Seungcheol refuses to shed a single tear.

four.

"Y/n? What's the matter— why are you crying?"

You giggled, angelic as always, even through the tears. "I'm just... really happy, Cheollie."

"You are?"

"Yeah, just..." You bit your lip, and without thinking, Seungcheol reached out to smooth his thumb over it. You sighed into a smile and leaned into his touch.

"We've all lost so much, you know?" you continued. "But we were still able to find each other — able to find all the others and make a family. And now we have a relatively safe place to live, and I just—"

You beamed at him, laughing, even as tears continued to trickle down your cheeks. Seungcheol wiped them away as gently as he could, and you brought up the little wildflower you'd been holding, one you must've plucked from between the dozens of others that grew in the abandoned courtyard of your new home.

You continued with a nostalgic grin. "Did you know, the first thing you ever gave me was a handful of these?"

Seungcheol blinked down at the flower. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'd just saved you from the homicidal goose that was lurking on the campus quad, and you ripped out a bunch of these right out of the ground and gave them to me as thanks, and then you said—"

"My knight in ripped denim armor," he continued for you, the memory coming back to him with a smile, "can I take you out on a date?"

You beamed at him, eyes turning into crescents, and Seungcheol thought that the world had never felt more beautiful.

three.

You look dead.

"Y/n, hey," Seungcheol whispers, carefully nudging your bare shoulder. Your skin has lost most, if not all, of its color, and you're drenched in sweat. For a moment, your eyes remain closed, unresponsive, and his stomach swoops in fear, but then your eyes flutter open and he breathes out a shaky sigh.

"There you are," he murmurs, cradling your jaw with one hand. "Drink some water for me, yeah?" You nod, and he brings the nearly empty water bottle to your lips, tilting it slowly so you can take little sips. After a few mouthfuls, you hum to indicate you've had enough, and he sets it back down before gently pulling you to lean against him once more.

You let your head loll against his shoulder, groaning quietly; you start to reach out a shaky hand between the two of you, and he takes it immediately, twining your fingers together. You sigh, content.

For a moment, Seungcheol almost forgets.

"You're gonna need to do it soon, Cheollie," you mumble.

Almost.

His fingers twitch in your hold. He swallows.

A part of him wants to play dumb, wants to put off thinking of the horror of the inevitable as long as possible, but that would be the selfish thing to do, he thinks. So he squeezes your hand and whispers, "I know."

You squeeze back. "And you're not allowed to follow me, okay?"

Seungcheol stills. "What?"

"I know you, Choi Seungcheol, and I know what you're gonna wanna do after— after. But you have to promise me that you won't, okay?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Something's encased his lungs in a vice grip.

You continue, "I need you to be strong for me, and I need you to get back to the group, and I need you to survive, okay?" Your eyes, redrimmed and glossy as they are, are wide and pleading, desperate in a way he's not sure he's ever seen before.

Seungcheol hadn't known that his heart could break any more than it already has. "Y/n."

"I know you won't want to live at first," you forge on, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, "I wouldn't either. But Shua and Hannie need you, Cheol. Channie needs you. They'll all need you, and you'll need them."

You're the one they need, he doesn't say — bites back behind clenched teeth, you're the one I need, the one I've always needed, the one I won't ever stop needing.

He closes his eyes, your name falling past his lips in a plea or a prayer.

Suddenly, he's being yanked toward you by the collar, coming nose to nose with your fiery, bloodshot gaze. "I need you to promise me."

And for the first time in his life, Seungcheol hates the fact that he's never been able to deny you anything. "Fuck you, y/n," he chokes out past a sob, reaching out to cradle your pallid face and press a trembling kiss to your lips.

"Seungcheol."

"Okay," he croaks, stealing one more kiss before bringing your sweaty foreheads together. "Okay, I promise."

Anything for you. Even this. Even this.

two.

"Lay with me for a bit, Cheollie?"

His smile was soft as he easily agreed, "Of course." He made himself comfortable in the grass next to you, making sure the two of you were connected shoulder to hip.

You both lost track of how long you spent staring at the stars in silence together, but eventually Seungcheol broke the quiet with a murmur. "What're we looking for?"

You hummed. "The way to heaven."

"Heaven?"

"Yeah." Your hand snuck its way into his and gently squeezed. "My aunt believed in capital 'G' God — used to point out all the different constellations to me and then tell me that when Jesus came back for everyone that he'd take us all up into heaven through the stars."

"Hmm." He chanced a glance at your profile. "Is that what you believe?"

You sighed. "I don't know if I believe in anything, anymore."

"Yeah." He squeezed your hand.

A few minutes passed in peaceful quiet.

"Cheollie?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me something?"

Another squeeze of your hand. "Anything."

You swallowed. "Stay with me forever?"

Seungcheol rolled over onto his side so that he could look down at you, the love of his life, and tilted your face towards him with a gentle finger crooked under your chin. Voice full of a devout sort of conviction, he whispered, "There's not a single place I'd rather be than right by your side, forever and always."

"Forever and always?"

The kiss, soft and chaste and a universe all on its own, was answer enough.

one.

"Seungcheol."

Your voice is so quiet now, barely a rasp of air, that he almost doesn't hear you even as he cradles you against his chest. "Cheol, it's time."

He wonders if this is what drowning feels like.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and swallows the lump clogging his throat. "Okay, love. Tell me what you need."

"Sing for me?"

Anything for you — even if it breaks me. "Yeah," Seungcheol's voice cracks, and he futilely clears his throat. "Yeah, of course. What song?"

I might not die, but this is going to kill me. You're killing me.

"S-Something pretty. Please."

Don't make me do this. Please, God, anyone, don't make me have to do this.

"Okay. A pretty song for my pretty baby." With one arm he pulls you impossibly closer to him, and with the other, he slowly reaches for the pistol strapped to his thigh.

He can barely get the notes out past his tears, but he does his best to carry the tune of your favorite lullaby, gently swaying you both in time with imaginary instruments. The gun feels impossibly heavy in his hold, and it only grows heavier as he slowly brings it up behind your head.

For a moment, he considers changing the angle just a bit — just enough.

But he made a promise. He made a promise, and even if it means living the rest of his life as something less than human — not a roamer in body and mind, but in spirit and soul — he'll keep his promise.

For you, he'll do anything.

(zero.)

He pulls the trigger.

And for the second and final time, Choi Seungcheol's entire world comes to an end.

#caratober #s.coups x you #s.coups x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x reader #s.coups x y/n #seungcheol x y/n #s.coups angst #seungcheol angst #seventeenweeklyarticle #svt writing #svt fic #savv writes #savv fics #please please please read the warnings for this one #this is some heavy stuff folks pls be safe while reading #i am posting this and then going to bed so if u need to yell at me i will see when i wake up slkdfjslkdjf #also gonna say sorry one more time #sorry *drops fic and runs (to bed)*

[cinnachuu]

dating Mary Saotome headcanons

warnings/genre: fluff headcanons, some mentions of angst, mild violence, harassment, dating headcanons, implied female reader

a/n: my favorite girl!! I’m going to be doing a lot of female characters x female readers, and then male characters x male readers, but I still have tons of gender neutral fics being written and edited rn!! planning a very wordy one for obey me soon >:)) enjoy!

•the most likely way for you guys to meet is by Yumeko

•I can’t really see her being able to swoon over anyone who bested her or lost to her, so you’re probably a member of the Yumeko gang! :D

•Mary is very confident and takes a lot of charge in her relationships

•she isn’t very romantic tho, she’s more casual and just enjoys your company. She doesn’t like being super open about how she feels, but she really does love you.

•it’s just difficult for her to express it in the traditional sense :((

•but!! She does express it her own special ways

•her confidence and pride? now shared with you!

•she’s your number one hypeman when gambling, loves watching you destroy your opponents

•she orders around housepets to be footrests for you. Only the best backs, they can’t be too bony.

•if you’re not the best at gambling, she’s willing to teach you, but she’s not exactly the best at mentoring someone

•she expects u to learn the material and learn it fast

•but she will throw hands with whoever beats you in battle, she doesn’t mind consequences

•okay yes she does, she’ll throw multiple snarky remarks.

•one time someone tried lifting your skirt and she dove in really quick with a few very not safe for school words :))

•if you’re not from a wealthy family, she’s extremely protective of you as she knows exactly what it’s like to be considered prey

•she never wants you to face the humiliation she did

•if you’re from a wealthy family, she really won’t care but she’ll make some teasing remarks about your wealth. it’s just in her nature, nothing too serious.

•hmmm I feel like as a girlfriend she’ll honestly be kinda toxic at first as she tends to brush off other people’s feelings

•in all honesty, if you’re more of an emotional person you really would have to be close to Mary to date her, as she’s just too nonchalant about other people’s feelings

•her difficulty expressing how she feels is also trouble in relationships :))

•u rlly do have to be patient with her.

•however that’s sad and lame let’s get onto some happier stuff!!

•cuddling with her is rare

•she just isn’t touchy feely, it’s not her style, but she likes being little spoon.

•pls accompany her to gamble it’s a fun sight to see her get all sadistic and cruel

•even better when you join in!!

•only if u want to, she’d never actually pressure u to gamble unlike Yumeko

•she understands that not a lot of people enjoy the risk factor. Some are doing it to survive, she gets that.

•but if you genuinely enjoy gambling u two are a power couple

•honestly i could imagine her being a girlfriend who loves showing off her partner

•she won’t do it in front of you, but Yumeko will always gush about how much she talks about you

•she loves doing your hair

•she did matching pigtails with you once, it was so cute!!

•honestly I can see her as being very possessive and jealous

•but she also doesn’t wanna say anything because she doesn’t control you, you’re her equal

•when she’s upset it’s better if you take charge and talk to her about it

•she loves positive affirmations that she’s a good girlfriend because she feels like she rlly isn’t

•gets you flowers every now and then

•writes u letters that aren’t romantic at all, probably saying stuff like “ur cute I like you,” or “ur dumb. come kiss me in the library.”

•she rlly doesn’t like PDA pls don’t no PDA

•it’s not that your affection isn’t welcome, she just rather have her reputation upheld than kisses

•ofc if u went to the school you’d understand,,

•honestly, she’ll hold you like a trophy at most.

•showing you off during gambling.

•”this is my girlfriend, see? and she may be an idiot, but this idiot outsmarted you!”

•she’s not the kindest tbh she prefers showing her affection through gifts

•gets all flustered when you get her gifts

•don’t get her anything extravagant she’ll cry

•often the ordeal between you is trading sticky notes or personalized poker cards with little writings on them

•will shame u if u don’t have good music taste

•doesn’t like seeing you cry tho so she’ll never insult u that seriously

•honestly her insults are childish, you fight the urge to laugh everytime she tries to insult your pride

•if Yumeko gets touchy with you she’ll get very upset and kinda annoyed

•admittedly Yumeko knocks her confidence down to a 7/10 when it used to be a 1000/10.

•it’s kinda like seeing your girlfriend run away with the idea person

•”oh she can gamble,,she’s rich,,,she’s prettier than me, she’s nicer, god...”

•rambles and mutters to herself when she’s frustrated which is a tell tale sign of jealousy

•to comfort her u rlly just have to reassure her u only have eyes for her, and she’s the only girl for you.

•she is, she’s a sweetheart :)

•dates aren’t often. They usually are gambling sessions or getting coffee

•she never really goes all out with dates, as long as you’re with her, it’s a date.

•ok this part is very female-reader heavy so pls stop reading if that makes you uncomfy!!

•ok so this school is bat shit crazy and there’s gonna be a couple folks with very mean ideals

•for example, a few dudes pulled your hair and called you mean names and Mary wasn’t there

•you were walking with Ryota and just trying to enjoy a normal day when they grabbed you and started yelling rlly mean insults

•ryota is HECCING useless so he just watched and tried yelling

•of course his pleas for them to stop were drowned out by many homophobic statements calling u very mean things and shaming u for dating a girl but it’s the thought that counts

•Mary came in with Ririka, looking like she was about to burn the school down

•Ririka was wearing her mask as well so it rlly sold the effect

•started yelling sharp insults and degrading the guys as much as possible

•”you want to talk to my girlfriend like that? huh? talking to her with that house pet tag? Who do you think you are?!”

•ryota had to hold her back while Ririka silently handed you a handkerchief

•Mary was very upset for the rest of the day, not at you, but just evidently ticked off

•”hey Mary?” She kinda just blinked at you and sighed, still very moody.

•”what?”

•”I love you.”

•took her a second to process that

•nearly had a stroke

•her brain cell was bouncing around her head as she looked at you, her expression softening.

•holy shit you were adorable

•”I love you more.”

#kakegurui #mary saotome #kakegurui x reader #mary saotome x reader #i love her so much!

[arcadeguk]

elegance and ramen

prompt: “what can I say, I was trained by the best” + “funny, I don’t remember training you”

genre: fluff. oh yeah, luna’s back folks.

pairing: idol!hoseok x you x the dance studio x teeny jimin

a/n: this is my first scenario in literally a year pls be kind n remember me 

masterlist

if hoseok had to sum up his day into a single phrase, it would be what the youth call “an assbreaker”. he was damn near certain that his poor, sweet ass was in fact, broken. he had no hope of sitting comfortably for the next week, at least. after 7 hours of trying to perfect jimin's fluffy, contemporary “no-hoseok-convey-your-feelings-with-your-BODY” routine, hoseok was wholly and entirely done for the day. jimin was trying to work new choreography into their latest single - a routine that would emphasize the tenderness and gentility of fresh, young love. watching jimin perform the routine this morning was mesmerizing and hoseok felt enchanted by jimin's every step. but after stumbling around the studio all day - toppling into the mirrors and losing his “elegant” footing more than once - hoseok was hot, sweaty, and beyond irritated. 

with jimin’s insistent mantra of “delicately, hobi”, throbbing in his head, he finds his way over to the tiny black couch that’s tucked away in the corner of the studio. his belongings were flung all over – a sweatshirt here, a backpack there, and he was 24% sure his keys were buried somewhere among this mess. he frowns as he remembers this morning – or rather remembers the blurry disaster that was dashing out of the house with barely a kiss from you.

he lets the track continue to play in the background as he hums along to the melodies, hoping that the extra time spent listening to it will somehow send the message to his feet and solidify the movements. he bends over with an audible groan, one hand reaching back to grip his strained lower back muscles while the other swipes for his phone. he plops down on the couch, most definitely crushing the muffin he forgot to eat this morning and the sandwich he’d neglected at lunch. hoseok unlocks the phone and with a few quick taps, he opens up your message thread.  

he can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face as reads through your messages from the day. his heart beats just a tiny bit faster as he reads each text - all sent at various times, all filled with hearts and smiley’s and “xo” ‘s.  you’re more than understanding of the expectations placed upon hoseok, and know that sometimes long days in the studio with hardly any communication with the outside world is demanded of him. when these days roll around, you never fail to text hoseok with hourly updates about your day. you share how the bus was 5 minutes late and you had to jog to your office, how the latte you’d had at lunch was arguably better than the ones you two had gotten in greece last summer, and how much you missed him and hoped he was taking care of himself. every text included that last sentiment in one form or another - he knew you were busy that day if they included just “ily :)”. but he also knew you’d snuck an extra 5 minutes at lunch when you included a thinly veiled threat about changing the netflix password if he hadn't had a break yet. he can’t help but be a little disappointed when there’s no mention of you snapping his kneecaps as reparations for not resting, but he figures that you’d get around to dismemberment at some point tonight.

as the last notes of the track die in the background, hoseok mutters a quiet “fuck it”, and quickly decides that he’s earned a break. he allows screaming muscles and stiff joints to relax back into sticky leather and clumpy sweatshirts. his head flops backward, the back of his neck catching on the top of the couch, landing with a definitive thud. he runs a hand through his fringe, mussing up the bits that stick to his sweaty forehead and brushing them backwards. his eyes droop to a close and he swallows hard, trying to relax the stress and tension in his neck. his phone vibrates in his lap and he tosses it with a whine. your last text had come in more than an hour ago - reporting that you’d gotten home safe and couldn’t wait to see him. he had a sneaking suspicion that the most recent text was from jimin, and if he had to put into words how fucking awful the routine was looking, he was sure he’d decompose on the spot. to save himself and his last functioning brain cell, the phone has been listlessly thrown and left to buzz incessantly on the soft wooden floor, just out of reach of hoseok’s hearing. another track begins to play on the studio speakers - and it’s one of hoseok’s new favorites. loud, full of thumping bass and tinny additives. the beat settles nice in the top of hoseok’s head and eases him into sleep. 

it’s not the speakers that continue to blare that wake hoseok up, nor is it the heavy studio door opening with a creak. it’s not even the crinkle of take-out bags or the strong scent of spices that stir him. instead, it’s your whispered “baaabyyy” that drags him out of his slumber.

bleary eyes crack open and hoseok’s barely granted an inch of sight before your lips are pressed firmly to his. you giggle into his mouth and a small smile crosses his face. He nearly starts to glow as his exhausted mind begins to put the puzzle together.

you, dancing, music, food, sleep…

he blinks once, twice, and then a third time for good measure before your face really comes into view. there you are, sat on his lap with a leg on either side of his hips, hands pressed to his chest and nose smushed so endearingly close to his. you can feel the warmth radiating off of hoseok’s body – and it makes you remember how much you missed the sunshine today.

“hi”, you whisper softly.

“hi”, he coos back.

“aren’t you surprised to see me?” “to be entirely honest, I’m not too sure I’m completely awake right now.”

hoseok is dead serious as his lips morph into a full blown pout, eyes somehow twisting downwards to create the perfect mixture of confusion and sleepiness.

“oh trust me, it’s really me and I really am here. and I really did bring a ton of that god-awful spicy ramen from the restaurant down the street. I don’t understand how you can eat that stuff and not have your intestines fall out of your ass afterwards.”

hoseok lets out a deep and throaty laugh, one that starts out as a nasally snort but soon turns into a guffaw that he has little hope of controlling. you beam down at him as he lets out the rest of his giggles, cupping his face in your palms. he lets his neck roll to the side, using the couch and your hands as a safety net to catch his head. hoseok smiles softly and nestles further into the softness of your palm, seeking nothing more than comfort and warmth. you lean down, landing a kiss square on his lips. your kisses travel upwards – if they can even be considered kisses. they’re feather light, simple soft presses of your lips to tired skin. cupid’s bow, nose, cheekbones, eyelids, temples, eyelashes – they all fall victim to the delicate onslaught of your gentle love. you come to leave a final, firm kiss on his forehead – followed with a unyielding “eat. food. now… please.” hoseok hums, snaking his hands between both your bodies, palms finding the supple round of your hips and massaging soft circles into the skin.

“hoseok, c’mon,” you say with a gentle flick of your fingers to his tummy, “you’ve got to be hungry.” hoseok doesn’t grace you with a response, instead he just whines again and raises his hands up higher, hitching underneath the hem of your t-shirt and scratching blunt nails along the expanse of your lower back.

“it’s getting cooooold…” you continue to tease, only to be met with a grunt and a flick from hoseok himself.

you take a moment, letting hoseok’s wandering hands find all the soft dips of your back before you lean in with a rather menacing statement of: “eat the food right now or the hulu password gets changed. You’ll never watch the end of game of thrones, you insipid toddler.”

hoseok smiles. there it was.

one minute, you’re nestled comfortably in hoseok’s lap, his hands languidly feeling you up while he simultaneously falls asleep. the very next minute, you’re being hoisted into the air and your pelvis is forcefully sat upon slender hips. two firm forearms come to settle underneath your ass and your torso jolts forward from the volition. your chin rattles on a firm shoulder and your nose bumps into hoseok’s soft and sinewy neck. you offer your thanks for the rather unwelcome ride with a quick nip to the corner of hoseok’s jaw, an injury that you quickly smooth over with a brush of your lips and a lick of your tongue. he sighs at your ministrations, doing his best to ignore your kitten licks as he carts you over to the table that holds the glorious (and ridiculously cheap) feast. before he plops you down, hoseok turns his head to nip at your earlobe and nuzzle the ticklish spot right behind your ear. “bitch” he hisses, with every ounce of love and sarcasm in the world. “your bitch,” you purr, and he just rolls his eyes with a muttered “fuck”.

hoseok can’t move. there’s no possible way. containers among containers were scattered around the studio, discarded napkins were hiding under the table, and there were at least 6 grease stains on the floor that he was gonna have to hear about tomorrow. but for right now, hoseok’s happily struggling through his 5th container of ramen and watching his favorite form of entertainment: you.

“so you never told me about your day”, you say, walking back to hoseok. you’d begun collecting the trash and trying to shoot 3 pointers from the mid-studio line. you were such a horrible shot that hoseok had to ask you to stop after he snorted ramen into his nose for the second time.

“it’s been this,” he says, gesturing with a greasy chopstick to the expansive studio. “these same 4 walls. I don’t even know what the weather was like today. the fucking sun could have not even risen and I wouldn’t have known,” he grumbles, his speech garbled from a mouth halfway full of food.

“that’s unlike you,” you say softly, plunking down in front of him, legs crossed while your hands cradle your cocked head. “what’s wrong?”

“jimin, this stupid routine that I can’t get down, my shattered ass, the bruises I’m gonna have for weeks, and don’t even get me started on my ruined pride… ‘delicately, hobi’” he says with a snarl, rolling his eyes and poking at the leftover noodles.

the room falls into a comfortable silence and hoseok is quietly grateful you don’t say anything right away. he doesn’t need every problem to be fixed all the time, just listened to. a beat passes, then another, then a third before you pipe up with a confident “show me”.

“show you what?”

“the routine. show me what jimin did. I’ll perform it for you and then you can tell me what I did wrong.”

hoseok squints at you and you can tell the idea went straight over his head.

“wait, just hear me out. you know how you are hoseok. mistakes are so much easier to spot when other people make them. you can watch me from every angle and doing each individual step, instead of just catching a glance of yourself in the mirror. you’ll be able to tell me what doesn’t look right and then fix it when you go to try it.”

hoseok pouts, but you can hear the gears turning in his head.

“you know what they say. those who can’t do, teach.”

hoseok’s container hits the floor. 

 the sky is beginning to lighten by the time the both of you call it quits. you’ve ran through the routine a countless number of times and your knees and ankles are burning from the effort. but you can tell by hoseok’s confident smile that it was all worth it. he understands the steps in an entirely new way after watching you stumble through them for the past 3 hours. now, you’re no dancer (not unless you count the tap class that you quit when you were 5), but your tiny contribution has made all the world to hoseok. the transitions, the steps, the whole body elements – they all come together in his mind, blending into one seamless piece of art.

your feet clomp down on the last step of the routine, the music dying out behind you. you expect to hear “that was great, but this time, y/n, I wanna see if you can,” coming from behind you as the track starts again, but this time you’re met with silence. you turn around and see hoseok silencing the speakers and sauntering up to you with a satisfied smile.

“good?” you ask.

“great, baby” hoseok beams. he takes in your flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat covering your skin, and the accelerated rise and fall of your chest.

you return his grin and shrug, “what can I say, I was trained by the best”.

“funny, I don't remember training you. In fact, if I remember correctly, we’ve been watching jimin this entire time…”

this rebuttal earns him a half-hearted slap on the chest. you drift forward, resting your head on his shoulder and peering up at him with tired, but happy, eyes.

“you’re sure it’s good enough?” you check.

“trust me babygirl, I’ve got it down now.”

“good.” you hum tiredly, leaning up to rub your nose against the column of his neck.

“thank you. for everything. you could never know how much I appreciate it. the food. your time. you’re…. incredible. you’re just fucking incredible.” he coos quietly. he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging your sweaty body to his. his heart pounds against your chest and sure, he’s trying to show you how grateful he is through physical affection – but mostly he’s just trying to figure out if you really are real, and not some figment his hopeful imagination dreamed up.

“I know, I’m like, pretty fucking awesome, huh?” you quip, and you’re quickly rewarded with a giggle and a kiss.

“by the way,” you drawl against hoseok’s cheek as you smother him in kisses, “did you ever take any breaks today?”

hoseok grins as he reports, “I did actually. I took a nap right before you came.”

“good,” you yawn, “someone gets to watch game of thrones.”

hi that’s all! thank you! :) 

#I love this boy #so much #hobi pls im soft #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #hoseok #bts hoseok #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts au #idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #bangtan sonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts textpost #bts masterlist #yoongi #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #seokjin #taehyung #bts writing #bts drabble #hoseok drabble

[garden-ghoul]

two blogs part 4

“for best effect listen to the themes of the rohirrim while reading this. the rockin violin solos are all too short, eheu. I wonder what instruments the Rohirrim actually play, how amazing would it be if the soundtrack were entirely made of instruments specific to the people of whatever location they’re in?”

let’s take a soothing sleepy trip to scenic

HELM’S DEEP

... since I only ever listened to audiobooks of this I didn’t realize that it was the deep of Helm. Who’s Helm? I hope that Tolkien in his pseudo-Hugo-esque fashion will have some characters discuss the history and naming of Helm’s Deep. As our heroes ride northwest along the foot of the White Mountains, Gandalf asks Legolas what he can see at Isengard. The answer: something is veiling his sight with shadow. Also I’m kind of sad that we don’t get any elves with glasses because perfect sight is a racial trait... no wait what if a lot of elves need reading glasses because they’re farsighted. LEGOLAS WITH READING GLASSES. Galadriel needs them too but she doesn’t notice because she’s never tried to read anything since she’s a jock.

As the second day of their riding drew on, the heaviness in the air increased. In the afternoon the dark clouds began to overtake them: a sombre canopy with great billowing edges flecked with dazzling light. The sun went down, blood-red in a smoking haze.

I’m kind of weirdly gratified that Tolkien recognizes the atmospheric conditions that result in a red sunset. You can’t just go around declaring bloody sunsets willy-nilly! The sun looks red when scattered through particulates! I’m trying to remember right now which sizes of particulates, which I should know bc I had a job in quantum materials last summer, but I’m really in more of a mythic mindset at the moment. Oh well. The king’s party meets the party defending Rohan from the soldiers and hill-men of Isengard. They’re going to withdraw to Helm’s Deep... I don’t know exactly what Saruman wants? Is he just trying to wipe the Rohirrim out, or is he looking for some kind of resource they have?

Aha! It turns out Tolkien is going to go full Hugo and not even bother putting his exposition in dialogue form. Helm’s Deep is behind a coomb (a coomb!!) that lets into a gorge in the “crow-haunted cliffs” (yess). Gorge implies a river, right? And there’s also a fort there. I feel like a crow-haunted gorge is the perfect place for a fort. It’s named after HELM THE HAMMERHAND (YES!) and it’s also known as the Hornburg because canyon acoustic make warhorns echo imposingly (hell yes). And now as the king’s party (minus Gandalf, who has some kind of errand to run--maybe he’s going to bring Lorien elves to help out?) rides toward the Deep, they hear “the rumor of war behind them.” This is good dictionnnn I love “the rumor of war.” I love the concept of “rumor” as an indistinct sound that conveys imprecisely that war is coming, in the same way that a game of telephone conveys imprecisely the phrase “at dawn on the third day, look to the east.” I’m being weird. whatever. So much time has been spent in this chapter before they even get to Helm’s Deep (or maybe I’m blogging too much) BUT here we have another thing, which is that the rumor of war is mostly... singing. They know the orcs by their singing (hi Orcsong!) “They saw torches countless points of fiery light upon the black fields behind, scattered like red flowers.” What a pretty image. Just so y’all know, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna write orc fanfictions.

Gimli at least is pleased to come to Helm’s Dike.

'This is more to my liking,' said the dwarf, stamping on the stones. 'Ever my heart rises as we draw near the mountains. There is good rock here. This country has tough bones. I felt them in my feet as we came up from the dike. Give me a year and a hundred of my kin and I would make this a place that armies would break upon like water.'

'I do not doubt it,' said Legolas. 'But you are a dwarf, and dwarves are strange folk. I do not like this place, and I shall like it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe. I wish there were more of your kin among us.’

That’s gay. ::) Also Gimli feeling out the material properties of the stone by stomping on it. He is also both sleepy and restless, a feeling I can relate to constantly. Then the orcs show up; there’s a neat bit of cinematography with a flash of lightning and the word “boiling.” You’ll have to imagine it. Aragorn and Eomer are standing next to each other yelling about their swords. I like this bit:

A shout went up from wall and tower: 'Andúril! Andúril goes to war. The Blade that was Broken shines again!'

because it’s really ambiguous whether it’s like, just Aragorn shouting this. Or he went around talking up his sword and now everyone’s really excited about it? Aragorn shut up about your sword for five minutes. Your worth is not determined by the pedigree of your blade. Anyway there’s a lot of fighting. Everyone is exhausted. Gimli is missing. Legolas is pretending he’s not worried; no, he just really wants to tell Gimli that he has now killed thirty-nine people. They’re having a creepy contest. Aren’t both their peoples supposed to be generally peaceable?? What is wrong with them? Theoden frets, feeling imprisoned and unhopeful about his men’s chances. No, he will ride out. And Aragorn son of Arathorn will ride with him!

At dawn Aragorn stands on the wall, while the Uruk-hai politely inform him, several times, that they are the fighting Uruk-hai and they have a lot of guys to kill him with. Hey, did you know they are the fighting Uruk-hai? Also all their dialogue seems to be attributed to multiple people at once, so one can only imagine them chorusing “We are the fighting Uruk-hai!” like schoolchildren.

Aragorn jumps down just as they blow up the part of the wall he was standing on, and goes to find Theoden so they can Ride Forth. As they do they realize a forest has appeared in the coomb. The enemy forces outside are so not prepared to face cavalry, they are so scared. AND Gandalf is back! AND! He brought Erkenbrand, a Rohir who they were making a really big deal of earlier but I didn’t bother to blog about it because he didn’t seem important.

All right that was way too much blogging for a chapter with so little content. Let’s get on our way on

THE ROAD TO ISENGARD

It turns out that “at dawn on the third day, look to the east” WAS the result of a hilarious game of telephone:

'Unlooked-for?' said Gandalf. 'I said that I would return and meet you here.'

'But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your coming.’

Lmao.

Oh, I also missed the fact that during the chapter break (while my brain was in the bathroom at the movie theater of life) the Rohirrim won the battle. Gandalf wants to take everyone to Isengard to beat up Saruman and call him mean names, which I wholly support. I also like that he devotes a good amount of text to the cleanup and burial after the battle. Legolas and Gimli banter some more about how much [trees/caves] make them uncomfortable and how they would love to live forever in [caves/trees]. Did Tolkien actually just have them become friends to be a Comic Cultural Understanding Duo. Gimli goes on for a good while about how beautiful the cave system of Helm’s Deep is. He is sooooo into these caves, it’s really endearing. The caves are full of gorgeous natural rock formations (sorry this is a big pull quote coming up, but it’s good and beautiful and gay so pls read it)--

'No, you do not understand,' said Gimli. 'No dwarf could be unmoved by such loveliness. None of Durin's race would mine those caves for stones or ore, not if diamonds and gold could be got there. Do you cut down groves of blossoming trees in the spring-time for firewood? We would tend these glades of flowering stone, not quarry them. With cautious skill, tap by tap - a small chip of rock and no more, perhaps, in a whole anxious day - so we could work, and as the years went by, we should open up new ways, and display far chambers that are still dark, glimpsed only as a void beyond fissures in the rock. And lights, Legolas! We should make lights, such lamps as once shone in Khazad-dûm; and when we wished we would drive away the night that has lain there since the hills were made; and when we desired rest, we would let the night return.'

'You move me, Gimli,' said Legolas. 'I have never heard you speak like this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these caves. Come! Let us make this bargain-if we both return safe out of the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see Helm's Deep.'

There’s some more stuff I count of little consequence, some ents, some bodies, a river that isn’t. They camp out for the night and a great blackness passes by them. This was actually a bunch of ents, I’m not sure how they failed to notice. Even on the blackest night, wouldn’t you be able to tell if trees were walking past you? Also the river suddenly comes back. Strange times, strange times. They get up and keep riding.

Suddenly a tall pillar loomed up before them. It was black; and set upon it was a great stone, carved and painted in the likeness of a long White Hand. Its finger pointed north. Not far now they knew that the gates of Isengard must stand.

This is such a good image.

The plain, too, was bored and delved. Shafts were driven deep into the ground; their upper ends were covered by low mounds and domes of stone, so that in the moonlight the Ring of Isengard looked like a graveyard of unquiet dead--for the ground trembled.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IMAGE. Also you can tell Saruman is evil because he outlawed plants. Look, even evil people still need green stuff to live. I was thinking earlier today about the trauma of being forced to live in cities where (in addition to all the other reasons it is bad) there are not many green things. Tolkien uses “hating plants” as a signifier of evil and inhumanity, and like, I guess. But if you’re going to posit all these thinking peoples... actually you know humans have a need for green stuffs because of where they were made. Maybe orcs really do not like green stuffs, and it makes them uneasy, because they were made specifically for the purpose of destroying nice things. So their psyches were made to match. IDK what Saruman’s problem is. Tell me about maia psychology, Johnald.

...and within the circle of Isengard’s walls, a sea of boiling water, filled with flotsam and jetsam. Oh shoot that would have been a great transition, I think that’s the title of the next chapter. No matter, the point is it’s very confusing to Theoden and his men to look on the stronghold of Saruman utterly shattered, and see no-one who could have done it... except two very small people sitting on a ruined wall, picnicking and smoking.

'Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!' he said. 'We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness' - here he gave the other a dig with his foot - 'is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. Far in the North is our home.’

This cheeky lad. Bless you Meriadoc. Theoden introduces himself, and Merry for some reason starts infodumping about the history of pipeweed in the Shire. But now is not the time, says Gandalf!! We need to go see Treebeard >::(

'Farewell, my hobbits!’ said Théoden. ‘May we meet again in my house! There you shall sit beside me and tell me all that your hearts desire: the deeds of your grandsires, as far as you can reckon them; and we will speak also of Tobold the Old and his herb-lore. Farewell!'

The hobbits bowed low. 'So that is the King of Rohan!' said Pippin in an undertone. 'A fine old fellow. Very polite.'

#blog of the rings #my new room looks out on the forest so green-white light is coming in #I think there should be more intimidating horn blowing in forth eorlingas #the song I mean #and more rockin violin solos!!