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yaimlight · 3 years

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Not Worth The Truth

“I lied when I said I loved you”.

He looks back at you with wide pain filled eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. You feel your hart crake just a little bit more but you push your own pain aside, keep your face blank and neutral. You can’t let there be any doubt, any chance that he might see through the cracks and know you don’t mean it.

He blinks once, twice, those forest green eyes so big and honest and you have to fight the desire to reach out and brush his tears away. Izuku’s eyes have always been so expressive, the man unable to hide anything he was feeling and you had loved it, basked in the way he looked at you with such love and devotion but now it makes you feel sick, makes your skin crawl. You force yourself not to look away though, commit every flash of pain and confusion to memory. You didn’t deserve to forget this, your greatest crime.

“You don’t mean that,” he tries to sound confident, sure in his statement but his voice wobbles slightly as the tears begin to fall, his words catching as he sucks in a shaky breath. You knew this wouldn’t be easy, knew that Izuku wouldn’t let you make a clean break and disappear into the night but you had hoped that you wouldn’t have to get cruel but you were rapidly running out of options and time. You were going to have to break his heart, his stupidly large and trusting heart that you had once sought to protect.

You glared at him as you took a step back, relying on old habits to see you through this. He wouldn’t believe you if you cried and you needed him to believe every word you said. For both your sakes.

“How could I ever love someone like you? Look at yourself Izuku, you’re pathetic,” you spat, voice dripping with distain. He flinched back from you, the large muscled mass of a man shrinking in on himself like your words had physically hurt him. It felt like your heart was being cracked in two, every word that left your mouth another stake driven in to make the gap bigger. After everything you knew he still strives with his self worth, his right to be here and it was a low blow to strike him where you knew it would hurt but you needed it to hurt, needed him to look at you one day with nothing but contempt.

He looked so broken and you wanted desperately to wrap your arms around him and take it all back but you couldn’t. Not now, not ever. Instead you sneered at him, letting out a bitter huff of laughter. You turned to leave, determined to get away whilst you could but Izuku wouldn’t let you, a scared hand grabbing at your wrist and keeping you in place. “Please,” he whispered, his normal cheery voice hollow and desperate. You did that to him.

You screwed your eyes shut, hands curling into fists at your sides and jaw clenching. “Please, if I...if I did something wrong...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to upset you...please just...” you cut him off with an all to real laugh, bitter and mocking, not directed at him but at yourself though it doesn’t come across that way and you hate that that works in your favour. You yank your arm free turning back to look at him with anger in your eyes. He’s taller than you, not by much but enough you have to tilt your head back slightly to look at him. You loved that though, liked to cuddle up to him and slot your head under his chin and listen to the rumble in his chest as he mumbled on and on about the most random of things. You wouldn’t get to do that again.

“Are you thick? What about i don’t love you are you not getting?” you hissed out, taking a step back to put some much needed distance between you. You weren’t sure that you would be able to go through with it if he touched you again. His warm and scared hands sending pin pricks of heat across your skin.

Izuku was still in his hero costume though his utility belt and gloves were gone, abandoned on the table. You had been waiting for him when he got home, the greenet having been excited to see you and expecting to find you lounging around in one of his stupidly ironic t-shirts with a coy smile and a promise of love. Instead he had found you cold and shut of, a bag sat at your feet that contained every last little thing of yours that had found it’s way into his apartment over the last six months.

“I don’t understand. We were fine this morning. Just please talk to me, tell me how to fix this and I will,” he pleads with you, those to green eyes looking at you like you hold the sun in your hands and your threatening to take it away. Izuku has always wanted to help people, fix things and make everything right in the word, his strong ideologue often make people mistake his genuine desire to do good as stupidity. You had never believed that though, had always seen it as a sign of a good heart, a true hero who wanted to make the world a better place for all but now as he desperately tried to cling onto the tattered remains of your relationship you began to wonder if you had been wrong all those times and he was actually living in an impossible fantasy land. His dream had always been a nice one but you had always known it wouldn’t happen.

“Nothings changed I just can’t be bothered with this little game anymore,” he looks betrayed, taking a step back and almost tripping over his own feet. “Game?” he chokes out and finally you can see your words starting to sink in, his to quick mind running through every aspect of your relationship and trying to see if he had missed something. You knew you had to push just that little bit more, had to tip him over the edge before he could start to fight back again and you knew this would hurt him but he had to let you go, give up hope.

Smirking you looked up at him with cruel amusement. “You didn’t think this was real did you?” you laughed watching the way his eyes widened impossibly more with shock and pain. It didn’t matter if it had been real, didn’t matter that he was the first person in a long time you had actually cared about, had actually wanted to be around. You had known when this started it was a mistake, that nothing good would ever come of it but you had been selfish, had wanted to bask in the light of his smile and the warmth of his arms. This was all your fault, his pain was all because of you and you carry that with you until the day you died.

“Oh you did didn’t you? You actually though that I could want someone like you, let alone love you,” you mocked his feelings, the words coming easy despite the nausea you could feel building. His tears and flowing quick and plentiful, streaming down his lightly freckled cheeks and dropping down onto his chest, soaking into the green fabric. He’s a noisy cryer, sucking in sharp and ragged breaths as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to deny what your saying but you know him and you know that by now he has realised that you had only told him you loved him once and that had been to get him into bed. He had noticed that you never really went out with him, had been reluctant to meet his friends and had never tried to introduce him to yours. He was probably wondering about all the late nights at the office that you knew didn’t exist, was probably imagining our with someone else and laughing about how easy it had been to string him along. It was better than the truth, better he think you a heartless bitch that what you truly were.

Sighing like this was growing boring you snatched up your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “look let’s not make this more than it actually is. You were a good fuck, something to pass the time with but that’s all it ever was. No need to get so emotional”. His knees give out then, hitting the wooden floor with a loud thud as he presses both hands over his mouth in an attempt to keep his chorales sobs and whimpering at bay. It doesn’t work and you feel your mask threatening to fall apart, your eyes stinging as your own tears threaten to fall. You need to leave and now, before he notices.

You turn away again, managing to take a step this time before Izuku is once again grabbing at your wrist, his grip tighter and damp with his tears. Huffing you turn back to him, finding him looking up at you with the desperation of a man who is about to lose everything and you hate yourself just that little bit more. “Please...I...love...you,” he forces out between sobs, his quiet voice full of despair.

Wordlessly you loosened his grip, one finger at a time and letting his hand fall to his lap once you were free. You crouch down in front of him, cupping his cheek with one hand and using your thumb to wipe away the tears but there falling so fast it doesn’t make a difference. He screws his eyes shut, his face pressing into your palm and you can practically feel the last little shrewd of hope he is clinging onto. You’re going to have to crush it, extinguish that flickering flame and leave him cold and hollow. You don’t want to. You don’t want to hurt him any more than you have but if there’s hope there’s the chance he will follow and only madness lies that way.

Leaning forward you press a kiss to his damp lips, Izuku whimpering and pressing back but you don’t let it last, pulling away before it can be something more. His eyes open and this close you can see all the different shades, see the depths of his soul. It also means you can see the moment his heart finally breaks when you say your next words, “I know yet I just don’t care”. The sound that comes from his lips is one of pure pain, his hands pressing back against his mouth as he doubles over and cries like his whole world has been shattered.

You push to your feet quickly, licking your lips and tasting salt as you dig his keys out of your jacket pocket and chucking them into the table, the little green bunny key chains ear snapping off on impact. He sobs loudly at the sound of them hitting the table, something closer to a scream that’s muffled behind his hands. You can’t stay there any longer, spinning on your heals and having to force yourself to walk casually through the apartment and not run. Izuku doesn’t try and stop you this time.

His cry’s follow you and your thankful you had waited for him with your shoes and jacket already on because the thought of having to stand there and listen to the man you loves heart brake as you laced up your trains makes you feel sick.

The door creaks as you open it, the lock clicking into place as it shut it softly so as not to disturb his neighbours. You make it to the stairwell before your own tears start to fall and you find yourself sinking down into the cold concrete floor as your body shakes with it. You burry yourself head in your knees, hands grasping at the back of your head and just let them fall, bitting down hard on your lip to keep the sounds at bay. Oh gods what had you done?

You always knew that you would have to be the one to end this, the one to make sure he wouldn’t try and cling on but you had never thought it would hurt so much. You weren’t supposed to get so involved, wasn’t supposed to fall in love yet here you were, hopelessly infatuated with the man, a hero no less. You had been cruel, malicious even and though you had done it for his own good he would never see it that way. Every morning cuddle and stolen kiss, every lazy day spent lounging on the sofa and just enjoying each other’s company, every aspect of your relationship was now tainted, twisted and blackened with the implication that he had been nothing but a bit of fun, nothing more, nothing less. He would never think of you again without remembering what you had just done to him, without feeling the phantom twist of your words as they ripped through his heart.

You had done a lot of things wrong in your life and loving Izuku was probably the worst in a long list.

Your phone dinged, the sound cutting through your muffled cries. You lifted your head, scrubbing at your eyes and taking one shaking breath after another as you try to regain some sort of control over yourself. It takes a few moment and your breathing is still ragged but eventually your vision is clear enough for you to pull your phone out and look at when you had been sent. You were half expecting it to be Izuku, begging you to come back but it’s not his name that flashes across the screen. It’s a simple thing, just a time and a quick glance at the clock tells you that you don’t have the time to sit here and wallow in pity and lamenting your mistakes in life.

With one last shaky breath you push your self up into your feet, pulling your hood up and start on your way, bouncing down the stairs quickly. You take one last look at the photo of you and Izuku on your Lock Screen, the both of you happy and smiling, before you flip it over and prise the back off, not caring as the something snaps. You slip the chip out just as you burst through the buildings door, dumping the phone into the bin just a few steps down the street and dropping the chip down a drain.

You couldn’t risk Izuku using it to find you, didn’t want the temptation there to contact him either. It was better this way, disappearing into the night like you hadn’t ever been there. You had moved out of your apartment that morning, not leaving a forwarding address behind. Not that it really mattered. The name on your lease was a fake anyway, the name on your new one different to the last and on the other side of the city. Izuku wouldn’t find you, no matter how hard he looked.

You kept your head down as you made your way through the city, slipping into the night time crowed easily and getting lost in the mass of others. It was with practiced ease that you disappeared down back alleys and side streets, getting deeper and deeper into the city and its dark and seedy underbelly. This was the forgotten part, full of drug addicts and petty criminals, prostitutes and street gangs. No hero came here unless they had a death wish, leaving this part of the city to rot and fester. This place had its own rules, its own hierarchy and as you slipped past the lowlifes and degenerates no one dared touch you, watching you with open hostility as you approached ‘The Unholy Hero’, the bars neon green open sign fright in the darkened street.

You burst through the door, bouncing down the steps and ignoring the four sets of eyes watching you, heading straight to the bar. “Trouble in paradise?” the annoying cheerful voice called through the silent room and you gritted your jaw, trying to ignore him. You let your bag fall off your shoulder, throwing it against the counter as you lent across the counter and snatched up a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. “How about you go fuck your self,” you snarled, leaning against the bar as you pours yourself a shot and nocked it back, quickly refilling the glass.

No one here knew about Izuku, you had been careful about that but they did know you had been seeing someone. It was hard to hide the change in your behaviour when you spent so much time with these people. You knew if they ever found out about him that neither of you would survive the night, him dead and you a broken mess beyond repair. No this was better. Izuku would hurt for a while but he would be okay in the end. He would wake up one day and realise you hadn’t been worth it and he was better off without you.

Across the bar Higashikuni snorted, his kohl lined golden eyes shimmering with amusement. “How about you fuck me yourself coward,” he smirk, winking at you and he shook his head, moving his jet black hair out of his eyes. “Like I would ever be that desperate,” his gold eyes narrowed as the others laughed, flashing brightly as he stuck up his middle finger at you. This was normal for you two, an odd mix between flirting and hostility that had worked well for the two over the years. Normally you would just roll your eyes and get on with it but you were feeling raw and stolen, on edge and ready for a fight and he would be a good distraction, your quirks complimenting the other in a way that meant any fight you had would be long and painful. You wanted it to hurt and he wouldn’t disappoint.

Before you could spend your mouth though the side door opened, the quiet murmuring of voices stoping instantly. Huffing you took another shot, eyes falling to look at your shoes as you ignored the new arrival. It didn’t last long, shinny black shoes appearing in your line of sight. “Bad night?” he asked, like you were some sort of puzzle to be turned over and put back together. Your grip tightened on the bottle, your eyes screwing shit for just a moment as you seriously contemplated leaving but you knew you wouldn’t get far, you never did.

Sighing you opened your eyes and looked up, glaring into blue/grey eyes that looked as cold and uninviting as a winter storm. “Yeah. Some asshole is waisting my time when I’m pretty sure there are a thousand other things I would rather be doing right now,” you were never normally this rude and over Fuyuhito’s shoulder you could see Higashikuni raise an eyebrow at you but you didn’t care. You had already fucked up your life tonight so why not carry on as you started and set the rest of it up in flames as well.

The room got colder, an impossible breeze ruffling at your hair as Fuyuhito’s cold eyes narrowed. You didn’t back down down, held your head high and glared back hoping he would take the bait, even as you felt your skin prickle with the cold. Something must have given you away though, the sudden cold breeze disappearing and Fuyuhito turned away from you with a sigh, his silver hair glinting in the light. Growling you took another shot, letting the liquid burn as you glared at his back.

“Let’s get on with it then,” he said airily, waving his hand and the lights go off, a project whirring to life. He sinks into a chair next to the other, leaning back into the plush leather and looks at you expectantly. Glaring at him you took another shot before placing the bottle and glass down on the counter and headed to stand next to the glowing image of a high end skyscraper. “As you all know this is the headquarters of the Nakamura foundation, the countries largest supplier of high end luxury goods and services to the rich and famous and tomorrow night they will be hosting a party to show of their newest collection-“ you waved your hand and the image changed showing off a group of of diamond and precious jewel encrusted necklaces and bracelets “-jewel of the night”.

This was easy, the words flowing from your lips like water. You had been working on this for six months, had spent months doing recon and test runs and you were sure in your plan, as was Fuyuhito. This is what you were good at, how you had made your living and gotten through life and your confidence was well earned. After all this wasn’t the first high end robbery you had orchestrated and it wouldn’t be the last.

As you went on about security systems, who would be in attendance, heroes that would be on duty and exit strategy’s your mind wonders back to the man you had left broken and alone. You hated yourself for what you had done but it was better this way, better for him to think he had fallen in love with a heartless bitch and not a wanted criminal. You didn’t want to put him in that position, to have to watch you be lead off in cuffs or for him to be the one to arrest you. No this was definitely a mercy and come tomorrow night it wouldn’t even matter. You would take your share and run, put as much distance between you and Izuku as you could and never set foot in Japan again.

#midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #mha #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #I did this instead of sleeping #sad #breakup #villain reader #hero deku #the poor baby cries #heartbreak #no idea if this will end up a thing #or if it’s just this

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saigebeaumontt · 5 years

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( danielle rose russell, cisfemale, she/her ) I, FREYA KAVINSKY am a SCHOLARSHIP student and would hereby like to submit my application to Kingswood Boarding School. I am SEVENTEEN years old and will be a JUNIOR. I would describe myself as HEARTFELT and EAGER, but also UNINHIBITED and PIGHEADED which I plan to work on during my time here. This is my request to join the VICTORIA building as a house MEMBER and look forward to hearing back from you.

im trash ik but here’s a brand new baby to play w!! her pinterest can be found HERE pls ignore the photos of crystal reed, that’s freya’s original fc sdfghj

tw; death, drug/alcohol abuse? w/ implications of self destruction

so first thing’s first, freya was born n raised in chicago alongside her father and her older sister

her mother had died during freya’s birth--though freya doesn’t...blame herself, necessarily, there are days where she imagines what life would’ve been like if her mother was still alive

her dad’s a mechanic and the sole provider for their household, which meant that he was gone more often than not

regardless, he tried to be as active as possible in his children’s lives

her sister always took up the role of..well, mother, in a sense

freya and her are incredibly close b/c of this

even so--her father had wanted them to be as active as possible, as out of the house as he was--so it didn’t seem like he was gone as much as he was

so, with a few strings pulled and familial connections, freya was able to attend ballet lessons at a young age, alongside an instrument of her choosing, at a discounted price

she chose violin btw...very relevant

and like, to everybody’s surprise--she sort of excelled at both--it almost came naturally, though that didn’t mean she hadn’t put in a buncha effort regardless, y’know

practice makes perfect, yadda yadda

took up a few more instruments for fun, such as piano and like...i dunno, guitar of various forms (including bass guitar) though she likes violin the best

that led to her attending a p prestigious performing arts high school in her city--which wasn’t done by pulling strings

her father worked even more shifts, her sister got a job to help pitch in, they took out loans, yadda yadda. anything they could do so she could pursue this...dream

except...ballet and violin has never been freya’s dream--its just something she happens to be good at

everybody just...assumed, that since she was so talented, she had to want to pursue it

not the case at all, really. she loves it, really, but...her passion has always surrounded animals

specifically marine animals, which is odd considering freya had never seen the ocean before

really...marine anything, she loves. maybe it’s because its something she hasn’t experienced , but ykno

ANYWAYS

she felt sort of...stuck, b/c she never wanted to disappoint her dad or her sister or any of their family friends who were all rootin’ for her

this led to some...rebellion, of sorts, when she was a freshmen

nothing...BAD, per say, but y’know. baseball bats to mailboxes whilst hanging out of the window of a pick-up truck, vandalizing abandoned buildings and historical monuments, shoplifting from convenience stores.

okay so like...a little bad

that was just the crowd she found herself in, y’know, in her teenage angst

has definitely been arrested a few times, but has always managed to get off scotch free ??

it’s luck, im telling u. she only has like..three things on her record rn

ALSO learned how to ride a motorcycle and was in a punk band based in her school n did bass for it, ‘cos that’s what rebellious teenagers do n whatever

and this, well, y’know. did disappoint her father and her sister and all their family friends but at this point freya was like ?? i can’t stop

her boyfriend at the time was a major contributor to her troublemaking tbh

when he transferred to kingswood, freya’s lil 15 yr old heart was broken.

spent her entire sophomore yr working her ass off and getting her shit together so that kingswood would look at her, and pick her, too--

and like...it finally paid off, y’know? her junior year they’d graciously given her a scholarship based off of her music AND academics

so she was absolutely thrilled

granted, she was only able to start attending halfway thru her junior year, at the beginning of the second semester...but she was there, at least, right?

very ecstatic to find her boyfriend and surprise him

they’d been doing long distance, and he had no idea that she had gotten in

found out his dorm number, walked right up to his door--knocked, and he answered with his shirt off n a number of hickeys on his chest

it was a surprise for both of them lmao

obv. freya is not stupid, if not a lil blinded by love at the time. they broke up, she was heartbroken

sorta shut herself in for a few months ‘cos she was so sad abt it

so it’s kinda like she’s still new, tho it’s been a few months since january

but she’s BACK and she’s POPPIN’ and she acts like it still doesn’t bother her !

but like...it does. it rly does. she’s still mcfreakin’ hurt abt it, she’s just handling it in another way

aka, a lil bit of partying...a lil bit of drinking, casual drug use, hooking up, etc. etc. just bein that bitch, y’know?

ANYWAYS

has always had a lil bit of a tomboy aesthetic ?? despite being a freakin’ ballerina, it just not her aesthetic man

constantly wearin’ dark colors n reds and leather jackets n denim on denim n cuffin’ her pants n whatnot

even brought her motorcycle 2 school w/ her

EXCELS at science, wants to become a marine biologist or smth when she’s older

just...hasn’t told anybody that

DON’T B FOOLED BY HER APPEARANCE THO

she’s not some antisocial punk, okay, she’s not anna

very humble but not in a way where u have to be like ‘ugh u have talent u idiot’ , she just doesn’t like bragging about it ?

even tho her ex is an idiot she’s still glad to be there bc of how prestigious kingswood is

kinda tries 2 befriend as many ppl as possible ?? she isn’t a people pleaser, though, n it’s sort of like...u get what u get, w/ her

she doesn’t act as if she’s got a whole separate life or nothin’, she balances both her rebellious nature and her talents n w/e

fun fact her mother was a leader of elizabeth but like...does she know? no. does it matter? only to ppl like lilah smh

ANYWAYS AGAIN

i’d consider her like....a gryffindor, to sum up her personality ??

very brave, fearless, can be stupidly reckless. gets herself into trouble even now

prolly is a lil bit of a hoe but we love that for her, okay ??

but also ?? will die for her pals ?? n is very true to herself ??

we call her accidentally messy

neutral good tbh ?? very wholesome person

will take care of u if ur sick, is v protective of those she loves

also doesn’t rly....believe in love rn, or is at least very over the concept.

girl next door ?? i dunno

sometimes...she does these bad things...’cos she thinks she deserves it, in a way?

like she’ll drink too much n get a real bad hangover or do a drug when she knows she’ll have a bad trip

so she’s got a lil bit of self loathing

however she knows it’s a problem

she’s just...not willing 2 do much abt it rn

living her best life lmao

ambivert, will go to parties but will also sit in w/ a book gladly

can b v v stubborn, is in debate b/c she loves...to argue, sometimes sksk

m8 i dunno she’s got layers..like an onion

wanted connections

her...ex would be nice, however it’s prolly better suited to send in as a WC unless there’s a dude from chicago out here whose made the mistake of cheatin’

HOWEVER, i would love pals !! friends of any sort !! she’s friendly !! like her !!

ride or die!

unlikely pals!

good influences!

bad influences!

she’s in a band w/ ezra im p sure

i ALSO would like hook ups!

accidental hookups!

casual hookups!

fwbs ?!?

Bad. hookups!

she’s probably accidentally hooked up w/ somebody’s partner so

enemies ! for w/e reason !

rivals!

frenemies!

fake friends !?

everything!

gimme everything !!

#kings:intro #like this n i'll come plot w/ u!!#this is saige's old blog im not changin' shit except her name n icon but i'll...get to it eventually

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beteoriginale-a · 6 years

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1925

Seven years prior to this day the Quarter felt the wrath of the demons it harbored. The devil came, he saw, and decimated the foundation the pillars of the city built upon. The underworld was dealt a great blow in the ordeal, for their leaders either ran or were cut down in the aftermath. Organized crime broke off into splinter cells of thieves and two-bit gangsters starving for the greater power their fallen leaders had attained and peace between uneasy alliances became a husk of its former self. New and refurbished local businesses refused association with the supernatural gangs and those that were criminally inclined. NOPD were able to easily find and thwart the uprisings, in addition to petty crime in the wake of the 1919 Opera house massacre. The fall of the Mikaelsons Family was both a blessing and a curse in disguise.

And none knew this better than the two leaders of the respective vampire and werewolf factions that were cordially eating dinner with each other in the old Mikaelson courtyard. In a town that were renowned for its legendary crime syndicates the Guerrera and Gerard crime families ranked near the top of the most ruthless regimes that has taken root in recent years. Under the venomous guide of Marlo Guerrera, the werewolves sunk their fangs titanic-deep into the soil of political ranks and pockets of the law enforcement. Gaining tributes from a plethora of local businessmen through sheer force was first nature to the apex predators. Oppositions and those that refused to lend their services in their journey to the position of power became maggot food, their bones play things for the omegas.

The Original Family left a great gap in their premature fall, but thanks to the Prohibition Era, like Capone, Luciano, and other prospering gangsters around the States the Guerrera pack took advantage of the new law's good intent and thrived. Speakeasies, prostitution, gambling, and bootlegging ensured the Guerrera mob a consistent flow of income. But they owed a great debt to the moon, albeit the bane of their existence, it is what fiercely solidified their hold over their territories. Their use of intimidation and bloodthirsty tactics saw to it that their tenure as kings of the New Orleans underworld would be a term of werewolf supremacy.

But that is what also earned them a pesky, but great enemy in the outlaw Marcel Gerard. The Guerrera mob had their private connections to local authorities, their assassins, poisoners, honorable hunters armed with dreadful technology the times permitted. In that area they exceeded the might of their ragtag rivals; that was why Marcel had systematically secured a place in the hearts of the people and attacked the fearsome organization in the art of guerrilla warfare. He ruled his own kind and his supporters by the power of his charisma and intelligence.

Invitation; a well known weakness of the vampires was made into their greatest advantage. When necessary, their native allies would provide asylum for a modicum of Marcel's band, whilst their greater opposition's patrols searched religiously for them. That tidbit of influence made the nocturnal bandits practically ghosts in the streets. This frustrated the Guerrera mob immensely to the point they started flexing their muscle through their 'friends.' If they couldn't eat, then their allies couldn't eat. So, their pocket police harassed, sometimes aggressively, the residents for the whereabouts on the lead vampire and anyone that associates with them. Gangs of hoodlums under the Guerrera pay were sent to terrorize business owners for information. The Guerrera themselves would often hold public executions and threaten that nobody is immune to their wrath.

At first, the plan was to disrupt the cash flow by persuading Guerrera partner's to do business with the vampires and or setting loyal rackets on fire, but it became personal. Some of his close human friends and their families found themselves slain, and as a war hero Marcel understood the concept of casualties of war, but he well in tuned with the craft of revenge more. Marcel response in painting the streets red in Guerrera blood engineered a dangerous vortex of one of the most bloodiest supernatural vendettas. Classic vampire versus werewolf.

With all of the carnage that has taken place, neither side profited. thus bringing about the demand for the meeting. Pastor Joel, head of the Human Faction, arranged for the two warring factions to maintain a healthy truce for the evening. Two neutral emissaries were sent out to the two parties and instructed them to bring only four delegates from their armies to meet at the old Mikaelson compound. Considering it once housed a famous family of crime lords, it seemed like a appropriate spot for the city's latest ones. The Gerard and Guerrera crime families were reluctant about it, but ultimately agreed for the betterment of business.

"Pastor, you gathered us here on the day of my nephew birthday. Must I remind you that I'm only here off of the respect I have for you and Mr. Gerard's late predecessors. But even that had its limitations. Our patience wear staggeringly thin. Say what you must now, otherwise this little meeting is concluded and we'll start back up where we left off." Don Guerrera sighed tempestuously, dipped a morsel of lobster tail in the butter dish and downed it without reserve.

"My dear Don Guerrera," Gerard smiled sheepishly, "with all due respect to you and your nephew, lest we teeter-totter with the issue at hand, let's lay out our real grievances on the table and discuss solutions and not use faux reasoning to us being here today." the lead Vampire bandit sliced into a bakery fresh cheesecake and and delicately held it in front of a young Creole courtesan that saddled his lap. The vampiress gaily took a bite and flashed her sire a look. His pinky mopped the blood crumb daintily off the side of her cherry-washed lips and whispered something inaudibly in her ear. She giggled like a school girl and popped her big bum up off his lap, and sauntered her well-proportioned figure through the compound's courtyard. As she disappeared from plain sight, she left Marcel and the three other vampires, fresh recruits, alone with the five Guerrera brothers.

"Firstly, I find it awfully funny that you want the broach the subject on respect with me when this is suppose to be a congregation of bosses, but I'm here I am—in the company of a joker. While I haven't the pleasure of personally seeing the man, I see his grace has a taste for tricks. You don't think I know who you really are, Carmine Orejuela?" Marcel seethed, his jaws bound tighter than that of a Nile crocodile's. Surprised by this revelation, or rather the young vampire's keenness the Pastor was about to open his lips to say something, but Marcel interjected and said, "Joel, don't be rude now. I haven't finish making a statement. Our body double here, senor Orejuela needs to understand that contrary to popular belief of the simpleminded, this negro can read and he does his homework. Also, lest it's not obvious, he's sitting in the humble abode of a Gerard, not a Mikaelson. Or at least it will be, once I run out all the mangy bitches littering about around here." A small grin pulled across his face, much to his enemies chagrin.

"But I'll forgive his many slights for two reasons and two reason only: the first is that I wouldn't want to ruin what could be a good family photo on the day of his nephew's "birthday" and the second is to send a message back to your true don, since seeing little ol' me wasn't fixed on his schedule. My message is a simple one, one you should be able to relay without difficulties." He took a deep sigh as he mouthed the next words slowly, as if the gentlemen before him were hard at hearing. "Marlo Guerrera is not a god. He can be touched. He is facing a major lost he has with the vampires, if he continues going about his business like the way he is now. I like to say I'm a civil guy, so I can honestly say that I find it to be in his best interest to step down now while he can, lest he can still run with wolves under the full moon, let alone still have the heart to turn than. . . With all due respect of course," Marcel said, with a promise that sounded severely threatening to his opponents.

The four Guerrera brothers rose from their respective seats, palms punching into the insides of their two-piece smokey grey wool suit jackets, at the ready to riddle the bandits with wood, but their cousin, their fake Guerrera don had rose his hand to halt them in their actions. Marcel's three newest recruits, apprehensive as they were, remained seated in silence. If they wanted to, the five werewolves would find themselves without the luxury of a head in the blink of a eye.

"You guys hear the balls rolling of this putero de mierda tongue?" Pudgy fingers lifted the dark shades off of his face and folded them over the collar of his grey button up, ensuring that the grimness on his face wasn't missed. Crows feet peaked predominately around his cold coal grey eyes, as his paper-thin lips wedges a crack of a half grin across his aged toasted brown features. "Kid, you barely managed to assert yourself on the booster seat to this little thing of ours. You don't have the privilege, no real rights to sit down with real power players and if you continue on with the belief that leading a bunch of witless hoodlums and causing mischief will pit you anywhere near that circle, then you have a long way to go son. You're well on your way to falling on your sword."

"Gentleman, please. The purpose of this get together. " Pastor Joel started to say, trepidation discernibly in his tone but was broken off by Orejuela's slamming his hand on the table.

"Was lost the damn moment this darkie struck up the audacity to throw his weight around our city, steal the food from our table and spit on our laws!" Orejuela voice boomed, his piercing glare burning holes in the pastor. "The problem as I see it is like all young upstarts, you're too willful and sure of the crumb of power you managed to scrape up out of the gutters for yourself. The Faction treated the vampires with too much deference. Diplomacy is a concept suited for those of a greater standing in our society, characters with a magnitude of influence and I'm afraid Mr. Gerard, as troubling as he has been for us, just doesn't meet our scales. Once he learns respect and tact, then maybe the guy got a shot at shining our shoes. He should be grateful enough that the Guerrera Family are even entertaining this Roberitco Capucha wanna-be and that his carcass isn't floating out in bayou somewhere, waiting to be devoured and become gator shit."

You could cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. It took a great ounce of willpower for Marcel not to break character and throw diplomacy out the window. To be spoken to as a underling is the formula that compelled his thinking into the relentless desire to want more for himself. There were plenty of men like the fake don and his family; individuals whose egos rivaled Rome itself, so Orejuela's attitude came as to no surprise, but it still got drove his nerves wild. Turning his attention to the pastor, Marcel shot him a wicked grin then reverted a dark glare back to match Orejuela. "And here I thought the Guerrera Family were a pack of sophisticated and reasonable people. I blame my naivety on that." Marcel chucked a low chuckle and snort, whilst leaning with interlocked digits coming down on the table.

"Old friend, your passion speaks out to me. I can see now that I undoubtedly overstepped my bounds with your family. And for that, I deeply apologize for not realizing sooner," the vampire head released a soft grin and spoke his next choice of words in a sterner tone, "we're not meant to co-exist. We can't. You are right about the vampires not being able to work out in a system that our predecessors laid out for the later generations to continue to follow. But, I've been walking this earth long enough for you to be many of my great-grandsons. Rome wasn't built in a day, but neither did it take a day for its fall. And my people have taken our place in society from the moment we got off that boat and damn sure from the moment we started building Louisiana. We're magic-made, sweetheart, anything can happen. You fellas have a good day." Marcel removed himself from the table and started walking towards the compound's entrance, with his men in tow.

As they stepped out into the cool night sky, Pastor Joel caught up with them and opened his mouth, perhaps to offer apologies but Marcel spoke before he did. "Pastor, it's been a pleasure. I'm sorry this couldn't have worked out as you'd like, but when it comes to the lay of our land there can be no pacts between a pride of lions and a pack of wolves That much was made clear here this evening. Next we meet, I'll be in my best suit for the funeral. You're not the only one that can look nice in black, Pastor." Marcel winked at him, and with that he and his crew left the Pastor standing there alone.

Later on, Marcel and his small army would make an inconspicuous appearance at one of their favorite jazz club spots to see King Oliver and his Creole Jazz Band perform. Marcel needed something to swell his soul, purify it, for what he had planned for his adversaries would surely taint it.

@accursedmaneater

#long post tw #long rp tw #slurs tw #( You dont gotta reply back in this length - you know that )#( thanks for taking this sl on !)#accursedmaneater #racism tw

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taeguboi · 6 years

Text

So Far Away PART 10

Ah, would you look at that! I found the time for another part in this series! Idk I guess I just got more ideas about where the plot was gonna go and sort of wrote on a roll... Hope you guys enjoy and can anticipate a part 11!

Masterlist // 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09

“So Yoongs, it’s been a while since we’ve both managed to have a day off at the same time, hasn’t it?” Seokjin poses from the kitchen as he tries to make conversation with his friends who are currently lounging in his living room this cloudy Wednesday afternoon.

“Yeah, I suppose it has been…” responds Yoongi, not really caring for the programme on the TV that the others - Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung - are watching.

“Trust me Jimin, by the time I’m done with these, the pouty bitch will forgive you in no time!” Seokjin confidently asserts as he puts the tray of raw cookies into the oven.

“A little harsh perhaps but ah… I hope so” sighs Jimin, resting on the shoulder next to him, Taehyung’s. “What's it been, like a week now since anyone has heard from him?”

“Possibly a bit less but yeah, I think we're all a little concerned now” replies Seokjin, pushing the heated door shut and finally throwing off the apron to join his buddies in the living room.

It wasn’t unusual to Seokjin that Jimin and Namjoon would be out of the university building around this time of the week because they’d spam his phone with messages whilst he would be trying to work, or they’d decide it’d be convenient to just show up at the cafe instead, but Yoongi was usually in a college lecture and Seokjin’s shifts just so happened to fall on most Wednesdays. Thankfully, the lecture got cancelled and Seokjin’s rota had been kind on him.

“I don’t believe I’ve tried any of your recipes before Seokjin” Taehyung decides to mention as he spots the elder coming into the room.

Seokjin turns to Taehyung with confusion as he takes a place on the couch next to him. “You ordered food from my cafe the other day, remember?... and then you ordered like three more dishes!”

“Oh yeah! So I did!” Taehyung grins dopily. “... and they were all so delicious!”

“I’ve never seen a man eat so much!” Namjoon comments with a chuckle.

“Wait! YOU made those?!” Taehyung unknowingly asks Seokjin in shock, pinning his hands to the couch as if he's just been given a major life epiphany, causing the other four boys to bow their heads into a facepalm in one what is yet to be many of Taehyung’s “blonde moments”. Of course, the boy's hair wasn't actually blonde, nor has it been dyed at the moment, but… it was certainly a moment.

“Oh” Taehyung realizes, noting everyone's reactions to what he just said, slouching back into the couch.

“...What can I say? Nights out work me up a super appetite the next day!” Taehyung informs to divert, throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“Yeah, and let’s divert from talking about that night again!” Yoongi chimes in with a nervous laugh followed by silence and expressions of confusion from the others. “Well, you know…” Yoongi begins to explain, feeling extremely awkward as the boys look at him with confusion and he wonders why it was such a good idea to speak up suddenly like that about that night that his friend Jimin is so badly wanting to make amends about. “I guess it was alright that you guys all got laid, but I wound up back home within an hour tending to an injury… and I did not get laid!” he laughs, trying to steer away from a still sore topic… whoops.

“So Seokjin…” Taehyung diverts. “How about letting me try one of those when they come out the oven, huh?” he requests with a huge childlike grin.

“Nuh-uh” Seokjin disagrees. “That entire tray is to give to Jimin only… and has anyone ever taught you manners kid?”

Taehyung tries his best to avoid the gentle clap around the ear that Seokjin is about to give him past Jimin’s head, but fails miserably, getting hit much harder than the elder had planned.

“Okay… ‘suppose that was my fault for flinching” Taehyung says, cowering a little to lean his head on Jimin’s shoulder now instead.

“Oh dear ‘Jin; I hope you’re not planning to be this brutal to my boyfriend when I leave” chuckles Jimin. “I've only had this one for a week! I can’t have you scaring him off, I mean look at him; do you honestly think I’ll ever do any better?”

“True, true… I suppose that’s the best you’re gonna get when I’m already taken” Seokjin jests, winking in Namjoon’s direction.

“So modest(!)” Jimin sarcastically remarks.

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about it” jokes Seokjin, earning an exasperated sigh from Yoongi.

***

It’s been days since Jeongguk has managed to have a proper conversation with anyone. Yoongi has understandably been way too busy with college work, so once he comes home everyday, Jeongguk can barely get a word in before the elder housemate wants to go to bed. Namjoon and Seokjin have too much on their plates too, and even if they didn’t, they’re probably sick of Jeongguk’s shit anyway. He’s certainly too stubborn to be the first to talk to Jimin after all the drama that went on the other night… Sure, maybe he’s in the wrong for doing what he did, but did Jimin really have to hit him and so hard?

The gym has become Jeongguk’s second home in times of late; it’s the only place whereupon he can release his frustrations - and get away properly. As for uni lectures, they’ve become forgotten and his schedule is on the road to becoming nocturnal. Restless nights overthinking and not falling asleep til daylight the next morning, then waking up at noon for breakfast, eating a fat load of cereal, hitting the gym, returning way after everyone’s working day has ended just for the purpose of avoiding conversations he doesn’t want to have, hitting the shower and then doing it all over again. Jeongguk figures it must be purely the exercise that is stopping him from falling into a deep depression or becoming a complete recluse… Deep depression(!) Yep, I’m fucking ridiculous now, thanks Hoseok!

The time on the clock situated next to Jeongguk’s bed reads 01:07PM - still not quite waking up time for him, in other words. So the young boy is rather startled to hear a sharp knocking on the main door.

Not without a groan, Jeongguk rises hesitantly out of bed, rubbing his heavy eyes and then the stubble he hasn’t bothered to shave off his face. The boy takes a glance at the time and responds with an ‘ugh’.

Gown on to cover the fact that he’s only wearing underwear and hasn’t bothered with clean pyjamas for several days, he exits his room and makes his way to the door, only to find a thick envelope hanging out the letterbox, and upon opening the door, no one on the other side.

“What the fuck?” mutters Jeongguk as he snatches the item out of the letterbox. Inspecting the item, his mood goes from a neutral annoyed to just plain miserable again as he realizes what the package is; some stupid small gift he was going to leave on Hoseok’s pillow one night or something like that. Usually, Jeongguk would probably rip the item out of the envelope and toss it across the room out of pure anger, but he figures it’s not worth it. And besides, it’s not like he’s pented up his frustrations this time like he usually does. He could swear he’s actually trying this time.

“Why the fuck would you knock on the door if you ain’t gonna stay there?” he grumbles, picking up a bunch of mail that seems to have fallen to the floor also.

Flicking through the mail to see if there’s anything for him, he continues to quietly ramble about being woken “Stupid postman…”

What Jeongguk fails to pay attention to though is the quiet, almost silent, opening of the door behind him and the face the peaks cautiously from behind.

“Nothing for me, of course…”

“Actually, I think there’s an order for you that arrived slightly late” the voice courageously speaks up.

That voice. It’s unmistakable. I’m going nuts thinks Jeongguk as he turns around, expecting the voice that resembles Jimin’s to be all in the mind… but it isn’t. There stands the best friend he lost to a meaningless one night stand and Jeongguk’s heart sinks.

“I suppose there’s something you forgot to tell me” is all Jeongguk can say because that’s the only reason in his mind that Jimin would want to come back.

“I suppose there is, kind of” Jimin replies. “I-I… haven’t seen you around lately in class so I er…”

“Just spit it out” Jeongguk demands, followed by a uncharacteristic “Please” voiced quietly.

“I do have stuff to say,” Jimin continues. “But it’s not what you think… besides, if I had nothing nice to say, I’d have probably done it over the phone this time in fear of getting punched back… Dude, I’m really sorry for lashing out at you like that…”

“I’m the one that didn’t listen Chim” admits Jeongguk, head hanging in shame.

Now this surprises Jimin greatly. All Jimin was expecting from Jeongguk is that he’d make Jimin leave the cookies and go because he doesn’t really wanna talk yet at the same time, he’s obviously only been living on whatever is in the house currently over the past couple of days.

Jeongguk turns away from facing Jimin slightly so he can continue but without looking too weak or defeated or whatever appearance or emotion it is that his ego doesn’t want to let through. “I’ve been too involved and wrapped up in my own emotions and I got selfish and ignorant; you were right to do it… Also, you wouldn’t have been able to call me anyway…”

“Uh, why?” Jimin questions, still amazed at Jeongguk’s use of vocabulary to describe himself. Now there has been many a time that deep down, Jimin could throw a fit at Jeongguk for being selfish and for being ignorant… Last week, though extreme you might say, was the first time Jimin had ever confronted these thoughts that Jeongguk might be selfish and / or ignorant. Yes, the lash out happened only because what Jeongguk did affected Jimin directly and negatively for once, but he wasn't exactly expecting this from his younger friend.

“Why?” responds Jeongguk. “‘Threw my phone in anger the other night and smashed it against the wall, didn’t I?” Jeongguk tells him.

“Ah, of course you did” smiles Jimin, forever aware of Jeongguk’s antics and realizing how much he’s missed hanging out with his mad friend.

“Why are you here?” asks Jeongguk defensively.

“I, erm… Brought this for you…”

“Really?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief, wondering why Jimin is being so kind to him… could this be a trick? Wait, what's in the box?

“Cookies for Gukkie?” Jimin smiles, as if he can read Jeongguk’s though process. The elder hands forward the box of sugary treats and it feels to him as though his arms are hanging there for minutes longer than they in fact are.

“For real?” Jeongguk asks with anticipation inside, now failing to believe those thoughts that Jimin might be pranking him.

“For real, brother” Jimin assures as Jeongguk takes the box from his hands.

Slowly but surely, Jeongguk opens the box to have a taste of one of the biscuits.

“How are they?” asks Jimin hopefully.

“‘Seokjin make these?”

“Yeah… I would’ve done something myself but we all know how useless I am at making things” sighs Jimin.

“Dude, this is gay” Jeongguk states, trying not to let an appreciative and relieved crumb filled smile come out.

“So that means we’re good?”

In a sigh of defeat from trying to keep up some sort of fight, Jeongguk puts the cookies down to rest on the arm of the sofa nearby and approaches Jimin. The big hug that follows tells Jimin everything he needs to know without a single word being spoken by his friend.

***

“Well that went miserably,” Namjoon comments as he and Yoongi take a walk down to a store nearby Seokjin’s.

“Tell me about it” huffs Yoongi, throwing his hood over his head despite the alright weather.

“You need to tell the guys at some point Yoongs, or those two are only gonna get encouraged to get back together or do whatever it is they do…”

“I know, I know… but it's like, how? I stayed quiet for so long to help them with… actually, why was I doing it?”

“Because you care…”

“Ah, don't remind me”

***

An unknowing Hoseok makes his way back to the dorm after attending his second class of the week. He is determined to get back on track with his life goals, and some boy shouldn't have even gotten in the way of that in the first place, he figures.

To be honest, the other night, if he hadn't have already had a big enough realization, the program in the background on the tv he was relaxing in front of whilst catching up with paperwork certainly did, or rather, it certainly helped.

Ceasing to type away furiously at his laptop to meet that one deadline he'd previously forgotten about, the story-line in the soap drama towards the end of the week had caught his attention. See, there was a girl telling her dad she didn't want to go to a university because of the boy she's in love with. Hoseok hadn't really been paying attention to anything before that but from the bit of context he was given as he began to gradually gain an awareness of the background noise, it seemed that the boy whom the young girl was after had little or no interest in her. In other words, he didn't care, not really.

Hoseok found himself quietly yelling at the screen as the girl rejects the pamphlet for a prestigious place of learning which her dad tries to give her and runs off upstairs to her bedroom though she must be well into her early twenties.

“You're gonna just waste your potential like that?!? What the actual fuck?”

“Alright mate?” questioned Yoongi, who was just coming in to the dorm, laptop bag in hand of course and appearing as knackered as ever.

Hoseok sat himself up straight to face his pending document and replied with a contented sigh. “Yeah… Everything is fantastic” he told a confused Yoongi as he began to type away again with confidence.

He'd done so much with himself that to Hoseok the past several days since seemed to have passed in just hours. So when Hoseok pushes down that door handle to calmly enter the dorm now, his mood changes from that laid back and collected mode to something a bit more anxious as he registers his first sight inside the place; one he wasn’t at all expecting.

“So yeah,” Jimin begins to Jeongguk. “Basically I woke up, and….” Jimin takes one look at who has just entered to dorm and he can't seem to find it in him to finish his sentence.

“I see you guys made up” Hoseok comments at the obvious, noting the takeaway order and playing cards on the table. “That's nice” he continues.

“Uh, yeah…” replies Jimin nervously, suddenly having a small flashback of being wasted that night last week and treating Hoseok as though he were Jimin’s best mate. This was never true however, purely because of all the angst that continued to go down between Jeongguk and Hoseok, and the thought sends a small feeling of guilt to Jimin as though he betrayed Jeongguk in some way despite the events prior that night.

“Oh come on, what's your point?” Jeongguk aggressively questions, just wanting to ground to either swallow himself or Hoseok up. This is really bad timing to Jeongguk. Why the fuck did Hoseok have to come back just as amends are being made between himself and Jimin? Jeongguk swears it's almost like the elder has done this on purpose…

“I dunno.... I haven't seen you around much…” Hoseok begins with uncertainty.

“What d’ya want?” interrupts Jeongguk, clearly still unimpressed with Hoseok’s appearance… even though they both live here.

“To be friends, actually” Hoseok eventually speaks out. “It might sound like a stupid idea, but the point is…”

“There's no point... ‘actually’” Jeongguk asserts. “Save it, because… I'm moving out.”

“Huh?” both Jimin and Hoseok ask in surprise.

“Yeah, I'm moving in… with Jiminie here!” Jeongguk decides - in that very moment… without even discussing it with or asking Jimin.

“‘Guk!” exclaims Jimin quietly with gritted teeth. ‘What the fuck are you doing Jeongguk?’ is what’s running inside Jimin’s mind.

“Yeah yeah I know, we weren't going to say anything until I was certain but it's definitely what I want now” Jeongguk continues.

“W-well…” Hoseok stutters, still in surprise. “If that's what you want then… I'm glad for you…”

“Hang on a minute!” Jimin butts in. Trying his best not to expose Jeongguk for his bullshitting, Jimin attempts to divert Jeongguk away from this whimsical decision; he loves his friend, but he could never for the life of him live with Jeongguk… “This idea about being friends, Jeongguk!” he continues, jaw still stiff from gritting his teeth. “I thought we were going to try and make amends first before you make any rash decisions!”

Jimin’s look of disapproval goes ignored by Jeongguk who is still set on what he believes is only a little idea. “Nope! I've made my choice. I don't trust that his intentions are to just be civil…”

“Jeongguk, just hear me out…” Hoseok suggests.

“Come on Guk, you should at least listen to him…” agrees Jimin, desperate to get this so called arrangement forgotten about.

“Fine” huffs Jeongguk, only giving Hoseok the time of day because Jimin said so. “Though I can't imagine there's anything left to say.”

“Will you just quit being stubborn for one minute so we can resolve this?” Hoseok enquires, finally allowing himself to get worked up again.

“See? He just came back to have a go…” sulks Jeongguk.

“Right” Jimin asserts, leaving his seat. “I'm off to the shop to get a few things. I'll be fifteen minutes; sort it!”

It's a big risk, but Jimin practically storms out the front door, leaving Jeongguk and Hoseok to their own devices.

A silence fills the air but Hoseok eventually manages to speak, determined.

“I'm not going to go out of my way to convince you otherwise because you have your own mind but I can assure you there's no need to move out”

“What's it to you?” asks Jeongguk, resting back onto the couch, arms crossed, awaiting explanation.

“Well, it shouldn't have to come to this…” Hoseok begins. “Come on, the only issue - which can easily be solved - is that we were never just friends.”

“Where's this coming from?” asks Jeongguk, leaning forward again and becoming rather restless as he faces downwards to the rug on the floor. “I know you Hoseok… you would never usually want to be so… so… open?”

“Let’s just say I spoke to a friend...” Hoseok explains, thinking back to that day at the cafe with Taehyung. “That’s partly it... And I think I know why I used to refuse to loosen up…” he continues, taking a place on the couch next to one Jeongguk is sat on. “I didn't wanna let my guard down completely ever so I guess I almost became a different person.”

“I still don't know why you got so angry at me and stormed out like that the last time we… saw each other.” Jeongguk tells the elder, gradually looking up and managing to face him.

“Look, I have things I'm annoyed about, but I'm starting to think they were mostly misunderstandings…” Hoseok continues, shuffling along the couch to get nearer in the hope that it might encourage a connection in this uncertain topic of conversation. “I've become an extremely defensive guy, particularly around you, meaning this whole ‘having fun’ thing clearly wasn't meant to be… I think you’ll agree that we both changed too much for our own good...”

“Will you at least explain, out of all the arguments we've had, what the last one was about?” Jeongguk questions with a frustrated hand flung in the air and back down.

“I don't think I can… not completely anyway. I think you can agree that we've both screwed each other over a lot and messed with each other's heads…”

“Got that right!” sasses Jeongguk, still annoyed at the thought of that morning last week when Hoseok left him hanging and stormed out without explanation.

“So... let's start anew” Hoseok requests, drawing closer to Jeongguk once more until they boys are face to face and on the edges of their respective couches.

Jeongguk can't help but disregard most of what Hoseok is saying as he gets a look into the eyes that he hates to admit he's missed looking into. He kind of wants to consider the whole friendship idea but sometimes the heart speaks over the mind and the only thing he can think about is those lips.

***

Exiting the convenience store, Jimin is nothing but frustrated. How could Jeongguk just announce that without even speaking a word to him about t first? Moving out? To Jimin’s place? How would that even work? There'd be so much to sort out, and although it might not be so for Jeongguk, this would change Jimin’s everyday life completely!

Though Jimin may not want to admit it, Guk can be a bit of a handful at times, being the restless muscle pig he is… taking the boy in would definitely prove to be a challenge. Yes, they do have much in common but at the same time, they're opposites; Jimin wants to settle down now and spend nights in getting to know more about his new love interest, whereas Jeongguk in this rough patch is definitely gonna want to be out ripping it up every night… and who else is fool enough to take it upon themselves to look after him?

To: Tae Tae

You still at Seokjin’s?

‘I can’t be bothered to go back’

***

“You know what?” Yoongi rhetorically asks Namjoon. “I can’t be arsed with it anymore” he announces, flicking the ash from his fag onto the pavement as he and Namjoon lounge about outside of Seokjin’s house.

“I think you might need a night out then, in that case” Namjoon encourages.

“Right. How’s tonight for you?” asks Yoongi.

“Fine…” sighs Namjoon despite his schedule tomorrow.

“But just… just a few of us” Yoongi adds.

“Sure” Namjon assures. “Four’s a good number, right?”

Yoongi nods at the suggestions, finally finishing his cigarette and stomping on the end.

The two head back into Seokjin’s place and Namjoon continues “Right. A friend each; I’ll bring ‘Jin and you bring whoever you want?”

“Sounds good”

***

“How about… I compromise” suggests Jeongguk to Hoseok, reaching out a hand to rest on his with what could be read as affection.

“Huh?” Hoseok questions with confusion, yet he doesn't move his hand away.

“I'm still gonna move out, but… Let's start anew tomorrow…”

“I’m lost” Hoseok tells Jeongguk.

“There's a few hours left today; that's enough time for me to pack some things, and…” Jeongguk confidently leans forward to plant a gentle kiss on Hoseok’s loose lips that still part open a little from confusion “... It's enough time to maybe… have one last time?”

“I don't think that's a good idea, Guk…”

“Come on… You won't have to face me the next morning… I'll even let you be a big boy and you can be my…”

“For a start, I don't want any of that weird shit we used to do; that's where the confusion partly lies…”

“So… that wasn't a no… I mean, you know, about the rest?” Jeongguk asks, hiding the smile that wants to emerge on his face.

“I don't know…”

“It'll be a positive end of a chapter… if you make it positive?” Jeongguk smiles, rubbing his thumb over Hoseok’s limp hand which responds upon this movement to grip the youngers hand.

Hoseok doesn't reply with words. Instead, he lets a silence come between them again as he ponders for a few seconds before deciding he'd probably shoot himself for not taking this last opportunity to be intimate with Jeongguk one last time. With a sting in his eyes, he plants a kiss on a responsive Jeongguk’s lips, figuring he'd only be wondering what could have happened if he doesn't do this - there might even be a regret.

Unable to take the distance that the arms of the couches have between them, Jeongguk moves over to Hoseok, hovering over the elder as he remains standing to engage in another kiss. Jeongguk pulls Hoseok up towards him as their lips are planted together and the make out that follows is their most passionate and tender yet.

Hoseok softly places a hand onto Jeongguk’s chest as the latter runs his tongue between the former’s lips to indicate he wants to go further with this kissing session. Both boys are smiling into the kisses, and gradually, they begin to explore each other's bodies, signalling that they should move on and out of the sitting room.

Jeongguk takes Hoseok’s hand, leading him to his (Jeongguk’s) bedroom, Jimin is completely forgotten about and Jeongguk slams the door shut.

PART 11 here

Again, I really want to thank any new followers [which I somehow seem to still be acquiring] for hitting that button and thank you to anyone who might have only recently discovered some of my older reaction posts and liked those too!

Additionally, I apologize if this feels like another filler part but I promise this is a build up to something more interesting [I think, I hope lmao]

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luciferiswriting · 7 years

Text

Raising a Kid in a Hunter’s World #5

Title: Hungover with Satan in a Hunter’s World

Author: luciferiswriting

Characters: Reader, Ashley (OFC), Gabriel, Lucifer, Dean, Sam, Castiel

Words: 1,622

Warnings: language

Tags: @evyiione @sdavid09 @swimminginfandoms1020 @pureawesomeness001 @that-fanboy-doe @kcam1621

Summary: Don’t we all love the mornings after a night drinking? Well how about being hungover with the Devil, and becoming sober very soon after waking up.

Masterlist

My head pounded as I stirred, getting up and placing a hand to my head, I made my way to the door of my room in plan to retrieve some Advil for my headache. However, as soon as I opened the door, light flooded through, blinding me and making me feel worse, so I slammed the door in quickness hoping to tame the pain but to only wince at the loud noise echoing around the room.

“SHHHHHH” I heard a deep voice hiss. Not thinking much of it, with my head in my hands, rubbing soothing circles trying to will it away. I threw myself back onto the bed, only to crash into something hard.

“What the fuck Y/N!” the voice hissed as he sat upright. Now only realising it was Lucifer. Confusion coursed through me.

“Sorry” I mumbled whilst crawling to my pillow and lying face down. I heard a sigh, and was then pulled into an embrace. The cold that emitted from him seemed to get me to relax and drift back off into sleep.

Dean’s P.O.V

“They’ve been in that room for well over 12hours!” I grumbled after finishing my beer.

“Awe, is Dean-o jealous” Gabriel mocked me, so I shot him back a glare whilst muttering a ‘no’. I wasn’t jealous I just didn’t like her close friendship with the bloody Devil. I didn’t like it before Ashley was born, and I’ve still never liked it since.

“Dean is right though Gabriel. What if Y/N has alcohol poisoning? Lucifer needs to drink something like an entire Liquor or maybe more to get drunk? What if they both over-done it!?” Ashley started to panic, to which I mentally face-palmed myself, the kid can overthink things and get easily worked up over it, even being the badass kid she is.

“I’m sure they’re both fine Ash. Look it’s about time they got up anyway, I’ll go get them and you’ll see.” I tried to reassure her, as I left the Library and headed towards Y/N’s room.

Y/N’s P.O.V

There was a few knock’s made on my bedroom door that sounded louder than thunder, causing me to pull the covers over my head. My best attempt at putting more space between me and the sound, but it didn’t do much good as the door was then opened and Dean’s low grumbling voice had started. To which Lucifer had then joined me under the covers.

His cold presence made being under the covers more bearable until they were yanked off, of the both of us and Dean’s voice was clearer to focus on, but the headache that came with it was not worth it.

“Are you even listening!?” He exclaimed. “It’s nearly late afternoon, get the hell up!” he boomed and stormed out the room.

“Ugh! Guess we got to get up then.” I groaned holding my head, but Lucifer had just pulled me closer.

“Don’t” He whispered, trying to avoid making my headache worse.

“Ash is probably worried about the state we came back in last night. To which I don’t remember either…” I trailed off as I slowly pulled myself up and adjusted to light streaming through into my bedroom from the hall. “C’mon mister, I’m not suffering this alone.” I prodded him.

“You aren’t, I’m pretty much still hungover just like you.” He stated as he rolled onto his back and placed an arm over his forehead.

“I meant them. Now C’mon” I pulled his arm with as much effort as I could muster, to which, with a few grumbles here and there, he did oblige and followed me through the halls of the bunker into the library where there was some Advil as well. Lucifer had plonked himself into the nearest chair and rested his head onto the table as I took the Advil, but left him some in case he wanted it. Gabriel sat across the table from Lucifer whilst Ash was perched on the chair next to him. Dean was looking through his laptop with a beer in hand and Sam sat at the far end, reading some book and Cas was sat in the chair next to him just listening to the conversations around him.

“Fun night?” Gabriel had smirked, the amusement was very clear in his voice.

“Shut up, Gabe. Your voice is too loud.” I groaned as I took a seat next to Lucifer.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Do yOU WANT ME TO SHOUT? CAN YOU HEAR ME BETTER?” Gabriel had shouted from across the table, clearer finding the situation humorous, causing Lucifer to send a glare to his brother.

“Brother, shut up. Or I. Will. Shut you up!” He had growled causing Gabriel just to laugh. Trying to calm down Lucifer, I placed an arm on his bicep. I could feel him physically relax under my touch, and lean back into his chair as he ran his hand through his already messy hair. It reminded me of 11 years ago, the day I returned from a simple salt n’ burn, when I found him sleeping in my bed whilst Gabriel kept a once very small Ash entertained. Coming out of the memory, I noticed Lucifer had repositioned his chair to a better angle so he could somewhat, lean on me as he had both arms around my waist.

“Um… Lucifer” I murmured, and earned a hum in response as he tilted his head to lie flat on my shoulder and face me. “What are you doing?” I questioned quietly.

“Ignoring my brother.” He replied as if it was obvious. Instead of pushing the matter, not that I really minded anyway, I decided to face Ash and ask her how her night with Gabriel went.

“Clearly not as fun as yours and Lucifer’s night out on the town. By the looks of things anyway.” She smirked at me. I just shot her a glare before she decided to continue. “You two probably don’t even remember what happened last night, when you came home, do you?” She giggled, to which Lucifer had turned his head so he could get a better look at Ashley and furrowed his eyes.

“What happened last night?” The both of us had replied. Ashley gave Gabriel a knowing look and continued with a smirk on her face.

“So nothing going on between you two? Nothing we should know?” She tried to ask as innocently as possible.

“No.” Lucifer said in what could be described as an emotionless tone, but his facial expression told Ashley that she should be careful as to what she chose to say next. Which made me curious, did Lucifer already know what happened last night?

“Oh so, just between Y/N and her Whiskey then?” Gabriel asked his brother, already knowing Lucifer’s true feelings, but Lucifer had chosen to ignore his brother’s question.

“Quit beating around the bush you two. Just spit it out.” I growled, getting annoyed with it all.

“Don’t worry Lucifer. No one’s gonna be taking YOUR human princess, nor will anyone be taking her little devil away from her either. No one wants to deal with the war path that comes with either one of you.” Ashley had snickered before she left the room quickly with Gabriel quick on her tail. My eyes went wide and face was nearly red as the scene of last night came back to me.

“We’re already caught Princess” He chuckled, I let out a sound that sounded like ‘oh’, as Luce laughed, shaking his head and then burying his head into the crook of my neck. Suddenly there was hands grabbing us, pulling us up and taking my bottle of whiskey.

“No! Not my whiskey, he didn’t do anything!” I yelled, reaching out to grab it, seeing it go farther and farther away from me. However soon after I heard Lucifer let out a whimper, causing me to stop struggling and focus on him.

“Give me back my human!” He shouted “I’m not going to hurt her… she’s my human” turning more and more into a whine towards the end. My eyes softened as I managed to remove the strong hands and made my way towards him, reaching up and pulling his head down to my chest, his arms wrapping around my waste tightly.

“shhh, my lil devil, m’here. Not goin’ anywhere” I murmured, rocking slightly whilst running my hands through his hair.

“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath. Embarrassment coming over me.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Lucifer growled as he removed his arms from me and left the room. Leaving me, Sam, Dean and Castiel in silence in the Library. Castiel looked at me with his neutral expression whilst Sam watched me with the same expression, both waiting on me saying something first. Dean however, was still going through something on his laptop and without even a glance upwards to me, he spoke.

“You love him?” I didn’t reply, to which he looked up at me and gave me his bitch face. A sign not to bullshit.

“Maybe… I don’t know…” I whispered looking down at my hands. The slam of Dean shutting his laptop was enough for me to look back at him with another set of wide eyes.

“Well you better figure them out soon, because dare I say It.” Dean shook his head slightly as he stood up with his laptop and beer in hand. “He’s in love with you.” He finished as he left the room. Sam gave me a sympathetic look as Castiel tried to give me a reassuring smile. I left the room shortly after, heading back to my room, all of this only caused my headache to grow.

I needed time, but I didn’t. I already know my feelings.

#raising a kid in a hunter's world #readerinsert #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #lucifer #gabriel

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gawaine · 7 years

Text

thoughts on the finale!

I have a lot, but before I set off; let it be known that as respective characters, I have a strong like (ranging to obsessive love) for those within the Jon-based love triangle. But that isn’t the focus of this post, and clearly, the writers want to ruin that for me.

I’m going by family, because legacy and nobility seemed to be a recurrent theme!

Also; tinfoil coming out for all of the foreshadowing (under the cut bc it got long, as per usual). Highlights include; Cersei was actually pretty badass this episode (?!), Littlefinger did NOT deserve more and Other Fun Stuff.

LANNISTER - This was good. Damn good. Lena Heady stole the show at multiple points - and the tension between the three Lannister siblings was palpable at the dragon pit. I found this to be one of Cersei’s most redeeming episodes. I love how she refuses to be intimidated by Dany’s dragons (and susses all three not being there means there’s something wrong); I love how collected she is, and I love the simplicity of her telling Jon to keep the North neutral. - It’s brilliant. She is acknowledging the Stark history; how Sansa is safe and knows better than to come to King’s Landing (I loved that subtle nod!) and how she and Jon have taken Winterfell, how Robb almost defeated her father. How she acknowledges Jon as Ned’s son (more on that later), and, if she believes in one thing, it’s the honour of the man whom she accidentally had murdered (even if she’ll step all over it). - I think the way Cersei interacts with her brothers is so telling. She refuses to kill Tyrion, for no other reason that he’s her brother... And says she will kill Jaime, because even though they’re “all we have left” to each other, their relationship is too tainted for her to see him in the same way. There’s something pure and truthful and raw about Tyrion and Cersei’s exchange, exacerbated by Tyrion realising Cersei’s pregnant (she hid that so badly)... and I think it’s interesting that they don’t show us how Tyrion uses that information, to convince Cersei back to the dragon pit (though I think we have a rough idea of how). - I really did think she was going to kill Jaime. I’m so glad he’s getting out of there. I just hope he stays safe. Political prisoner again, anyone? By a certain Brienne of Tarth and Lady Stark...? - Cersei had me until “lol mercenaries will help us win back the kingdom!!”. She always falls at the last hurdle...

GREYJOY - Oh, the foreshadowing of Jon’s future troubles. - Not much to say here, except that Theon’s acceptance of who he is was beautifully executed, especially from a cinematographic perspective. He is loyal to legacy and blood and promises, like a Stark; he fights, and brawls, and plays dirty like a Greyjoy, and I love how he steps back into the water after the fight, but doesn’t immerse himself in it. It’s well done and I’m hoping good things for him! - Nice interaction with Tyrion in the dragon pit - I like how they zoom in on Theon’s face when Jon pledges allegiance to Daenerys. Although Jon says as much later, in that moment, it feels like they’re highlighting how Theon and Tyrion’s relationship is in the fledgling version of Jon and Tyrion’s; which foreshadows not all will be well between the latter come next season... It also reminds us that, in terms of the other Starks, Theon is still a family member - just on the outside, like Jon used to be. I have a theory that, if Jon’s heritage comes out (and/or Jonsa is endgame), Theon will be the one to give Sansa away, but that’s for another time!

STARK - I wanted to do this last, but too excited - I SAID SANSA WASN’T THAT STUPID - though I’ll admit, the way they filmed the scene made me think twice, especially when I saw Bran (and I’d read a meta on Bran potentially warning Sansa against Arya, or allowing the sisters to fight for some mysterious Greater Good). It’s good to know there’s a little bit of Bran Stark left in there (but more on him later). - I don’t know how much Arya knows about what’s about to go down. On one hand, it must’ve been everything, and when you re-watch the dialogue, it seems that way; on the other, it feels like there’s some doubt left in Arya, when she asks Sansa why she’s doing it. Sansa’s honesty supports the latter, but her reasoning - “for honour” and how she explains it - sounds too performed for just family, so I feel like it’s for the others in that room. It could also just be one big performance, but I like to think the girls put thought into it! - On the battlements, when Arya says she’s “just the executioner” - it reminds me of what Ned used to say; “the man who passes the sentence must always swing the sword”. It also reminded me of LoTR - “I’m no man”? And I like the idea of the Stark sisters being two sides of the same coin. Idk, it was cool to me. - Littlefinger did NOT deserve anything more than what he got, and yes, it IS reasonable that Bran’s word was all it took for proof; because it’s not so much what Bran says, but LF’s reaction to it that proves he’s guilty af (which everyone in that room knows anyway). It’s reminiscent of the scene where he betrays Ned; LF is surrounded by his men, but whereas Ned was honourable enough to try and save them, the current Starks are honourable enough to grant those knights witness to LF’s death. They all know he’s guilty. They all know he wouldn’t need proof to screw them over. It’s a trial by formality, when, really, it’s just that they have the means and power to do it and so they do. - LF snivelling was awesome. Arya was awesome. The Starks are awesome - THE LONE WOLF DIES, BUT THE PACK SURVIVES BITCHES (yet I hate that the next scene cut to the Night King riding toward them... wtf) - Bran telling Sam about Jon’s true parentage was interesting. Maybe a bit sudden, but given the context; Bran can’t tell Sansa and Arya without embroiling them in some sort of political war. Meera has gone. All of his other friends are gone. Sam is Jon trusted friend and Bran has no way of ensuring Jon will believe him, whereas Sam may help. Also, Bran not knowing about Lyanna and Rhaegar’s marriage? Yeah, that’s a little stupid, but it just served to remind us that... Little Bran Stark is still in there. Overwhelmed and a bit naive and clueless, but there. He’s still learning and I found it nice to see some humanity in Bran for a change... Which brings us to -

TARGARYEN - Oooooohhh, the foreshadowing was so nicely done! Receipts; - Jon x Theon - Jon x Daenerys at the dragon pit. They’re setting up a kind of mini-AU - we’re seeing how Daenerys could teach him about his Targaryen heritage, how he may actually learn from her... If they avoided boatbang. - LOOK. I’m a Jonsa shipper, but also a Jonerys shipper (I want them all happy and comfortable and safe; I was prepped to be a Major Jonerys shipper, and whilst I am in theory, to me, in practice, the show has failed), but the scene where Jon looks at Dany? And he sighs, while they’re... Copulating? I did not read that as difficulty on his part (though I do see it now). I saw it as being... Overwhelmed. You can’t ignore that they’re drawn to each other, but what’s bothering me, is how the show seems to be hinting at that really being familial more than anything else. - This bending the knee shit is going to wreck Jon’s chances in the North. They were hesitant when Jon was going to Dragonstone just for the dragon-glass, but once they find out he’s a Targaryen? Potentially knocked up his aunt (pls gross no pls - the sudden emphasis on it makes me think it’s a red herring, though) and pledged the North to her, and shortly thereafter learns of his own Targaryen heritage? It wouldn’t be shocking for the Northerners to shout conspiracy... and because of this, I really see Sansa being named the Queen in the North, and Jon and Dany receiving a frosty af reception in Winterfell. I didn’t see much Jonsa this episode, even in the LF scene where he mentions Dany’s beauty - I saw more of it last ep -, but even platonically, Jonerys in Winterfell is going to cause problems. - The entire boatbang thing felt tragic - and I think it was meant that way. The sudden way it happens, Tyrion watching, the sombre music and how it’s not allowed to be enjoyed, save for a rather gratuitous shot of Jon’s butt that is kind of necessary in order to depict what’s happening. There’s no romance, no slowness, no desperation, no... Nothing. Jon seems conflicted, in everything, and... - Because of Jon’s advice to Theon, I stand by my previous theory that Jon’s going to reject his relationship (?) with Dany on the basis of his Stark heritage. Which is sad, because nobody else is going to forget it. Jon was kept the furthest he has been from the rest of the Starks this ep; not just physically, but in his actions, his communications with them, how disconnected he is and the surprise he’ll have when he reaches home. He’s already transitioning into Targaryen... And I see a Targaryen x Stark feud brewing, before Jon even knows the truth.

There’s more but that’s the gist. The finale was by no means perfect but tbh I’m just grateful my Stark babies are doing well, kicking ass and taking names, up in the North, so... W/e

ALSO; bonus points to the Pod/Tyrion reunion, YES JAIME LEAVE and there was not enough Missandei and Grey Worm.

#got meta #got #the dragon and the wolf #7x07 #jonerys #jonsa

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empressfiend · 7 years

Text

Gemini (A Prequel)

Chants amidst a crowd’s screams could be heard filtering down the street of the excessively extravagant and ridiculously high class Pandemonium nightclub. The inside, a swirling maelstrom of blue pierced through by brightly coloured purple and pink lasers, was a mix of a grand opera space and the largest ballroom known to mankind. As its centre piece were titanium semi-circles revolving in a futuristic manner around a jaw-dropping helix chandelier made up of 2,705 pairs of Chopard sunglasses.

At the stage behind an insane amount of equipment was a young sweet-looking blushing blonde jumping up and down with his hands above his head clapping to the stutter. “YO NEW YORK! I WANNA SEE EVERYBODY JUMP!” He shouted to the microphone beside his deck. “THREE, TWO, ONE, GO!” The crowd’s clamour heightened to an ear-splitting volume and the huge screen on the stage flashed the name of the special DJ of the night.

MARTIN GARRIX

Martin’s heartfelt grin widened and he created a heart with his hands before continuing to jump and resuming to expertly work his mixer. The riff came on and the club exploded with drunken sing-alongs that had the walls vibrate and the line outside the club shift on their feet in an antsy manner with those nearest to the door doing their damndest to peer through the bulk-sized bouncers who were suspiciously as handsome as the DJ.

“You don’t miss this life?”

A honey laugh, sweet and melodic, got lost in the loud music of the club but the action made by the incredibly gorgeous Asian man sat on the blood red sofa of the highest platform in the VIP area was seen vividly by the Latin man wearing a black crocodile suit.

“I can explore this life whenever I want, Raphael.” The Asian man crossed his legs with an elegant swing and took a sip of his martini that was being held by a pretty brunette woman. He was dressed in a more subdued manner compared to the Latin with his sharp Desmond Merrion Supreme Bespoke charcoal grey three-piece suit. “I’m having fun being a mundane… well, weirdo.”

Raphael rolled his eyes and adjusted his shiny suit with a huff. “I don’t see why you must insist to sell those weird services to the mundanes. Neither the Shadow World nor the mundane world think greatly of your job. Besides, this is still your club.” He took a side-glance at the stage and smirked. “You can enjoy all the luxury you want instead of sitting on your couch with your bloody cats awaiting low-paying desperate mundanes like a peasant.”

“Insulting me won’t get you anywhere.” Magnus rolled his eyes but he had a smirk on his face nonetheless. “Now sit, Raphael. Don’t have an old-fashioned cowboy standoff by your lonesome.”

“I can’t believe I’m missing the days you were as wild as Catarina is now.” Raphael grumbled when he sat down. “Even Ragnor is more fun. What has the world gone to?”

“I must have raised you wrong.” Magnus muttered under his breath. He flicked his hand for a desperate call to the only friend he had that might distract Raphael instead of help with the Latino’s cause; his magic sparked the same coloured blue as the club lights, masking it, and floated off to send his message.

The club’s theme was one of the many signatures that made it infinitely obvious to Downworlders and mundanes in-the-know exactly who owned the club though many of them no longer recognised him by first sight. His lack of avant-garde outfits and glittery on-point make-up made him look nearly mundane. If it wasn’t for the fact that he would lower the glamour over his eyes, he would seem like an outsider to the crowd below.

Magnus felt his magic return to him along with a tingle of friendly magic. He swung his eyes over to the steps and there she was, true to her image as the club fairy, a beautiful woman with light blue skin and striking white hair. Her flashy reflective dress sparkled incessantly under the lights and her heels slapped hard and audible onto the Italian black marble flooring as she ascended.

“You look so stuffy, Magnus!” She slurred happily whilst she twirled over the platform to land on the couch with an elegant fall onto the couch. “What’s with the formal suit?”

“Stuffy?” Magnus surveyed his suit and frowned. They did look rather too formal for a nightclub but he was the owner so it was appropriate. At least he thought it was but, as of late, he found all the knack he had for fashion slowly slipping away the longer he acted like a boring mundane. “I’m supposed to look professional as the owner.”

“He’s a goner, Cat.” Raphael groaned much too dramatically.

Magnus wanted to retort and he would except he caught Catarina’s expression first which was conveying such sincere pity that he felt rather shamed. He hung his head back on the couch with a great sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. While he had thought of retiring back to his old life – was that even called retiring? –, he didn’t want to give Raphael the damn satisfaction and he was enjoying his quiet life. “Being a mundane isn’t so bad.” He mumbled.

“I suppose not.” Catarina agreed. “But really, Magnus, don’t waste your talent for fashion. Why don’t you become a designer?”

“Maybe.” Magnus shrugged and lowered his hand to smooth down his suit. Fashion meant a lot to him even now he was pretending to be a mundane. Without his knack for it, he probably wouldn’t pull off being a boring mundane so well. “Something to think about.”

He lifted his head off the back of the couch and directed his piercing yellow-green cat eyes onto the chandelier he had designed himself. It had cost a fortune and still did with its regular change of sunglasses. The reflection off the Chopard pairs were unholy in its beauty and he was proud of it but it was a detached sort of pride. He wondered, not for the first time that year, what it would be like to give up his current profession for another more enjoyable and more lucrative one.

It wasn’t as if he needed the money with all the cash and sponsors he gained from Pandemonium’s success but it would be hell of a lot more him to do something in fashion. However, it was a cut-throat industry and he really was enjoying the quiet life.

There should be a way for him to compromise with himself. To match together two distinctly at-odds characteristics into one job. A profession in fashion that offered a quiet personal life, wouldn’t that be one hell of an amazing wish come to life?

Magnus stood up and stared straight at the stage where the good-looking DJ was giving the crowd another heart with two hands. Were he still the High Warlock of Brooklyn at the pinnacle of his powers, he would have that boy in his room by the end of the night and heartbroken the next morning. It would be glorious and satisfying and oh-so-cruelly just like his past self to do so and he wouldn’t have even felt one ounce of remorse.

His eyes drifted towards the happy bouncing crowd over the sloshing alcohol dripping down sweaty bodies onto the sticky floor to finally land on the woman he had met with earlier: Camille Belcourt. A woman that had changed his life for the better or so he’d tell himself whenever he saw her.

She was wonderfully sweet in the few hours they had ‘dated’ and fucked and it was her sobbing self that made him ditch his bad hobby of throwing people away after he was done with them. Too bad it had worked out in the opposite way for her. She was now famous for being a venomous bitch and he always did feel bad about it whenever he caught wind of her scent.

He felt even worse whenever he actually had to talk to her because she’d revert to her sweet smitten self and it was so horribly guilt-inducing for him every damn time. Magnus sighed, took one last swig of his martini and made it vanish with a nudge before he turned to look at his friends. Both of whom were staring at him with calculating looks in their eyes. “What?” He demanded.

“How was Camille?” Raphael asked neutrally.

Magnus narrowed his eyes in a slight grimace. The Latino had always been weirdly concerned over Camille whether it was because she gave him the position as Head of a Clan (a position that was no longer needed and more of a novelty nowadays) or because, though she was the former Head of the New York Clan, she had been a lost sheep Raphael had hoped to herd before he had gotten to her in the worst way possible, he would never know. And frankly, he never wanted to know. “She’s doing better. Apparently, she’s been going to therapy and she needed to tell me exactly how much I hurt her as part of her process.”

Which was not a pleasant conversation. At all.

“Oh.” Catarina winced. “Oh, honey.”

“It’s fine.” Magnus lied smoothly. “I only had to listen to her for half an hour and then apologise before I could bolt away from her. It was perfectly fine.” He shuddered and straightened out his suit. “Anyway, it’s been lovely, but I have to go.” He grinned at both his friends and snapped his fingers for a portal. “I have an early appointment to wake for.”

Raphael groaned loudly and with much frustration as the portal winked out of existence.

#rough draft #prequel #malec fic #malec #this inverted world #alternate magnus bane #alternate universe #shadowhunters tv

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surrealitykrp-blog · 7 years

Photo

hello listeners —

today we’ve received a notice about song nari, the 20 year old college student and pt radio bang employee. you might have seen her around riverside when she’s not being a photographer for uprising! the podcast. if you haven’t, fear not and stay tuned for the briefing.

and as always, welcome to iri

— and now, the profile

faceclaim: stephanie lee oc name: song nari age: 20 positive traits: clever, creative, resourceful neutral traits: stubborn, meticulous, ambitious negative traits: sardonic, volatile, insensitive occupation: college student and pt radio bang employee housing: riverside affiliation: photographer for uprising! the podcast

— and now, the development

THE MYSTERY OF IRI:

unfeeling is how they see her – at this point is must be a fact, unfeeling is how they see her. it must be – no, it’s definitely something in that cold gaze of hers, that unwavering expression of disinterest and disconnect, how her body language seems to say just please, anywhere but here. song nari is unapproachable, a notion that many seen to accept. unwelcoming is the feeling she gives, an unsettling sensation that settles in the pit of your stomach and grips your heart in a cold grasp. do not cross lest you wish to die; put in much simpler words, song nari is a total bitch.

and maybe they’re right. she’s not once made any attempt to stop them. they’re all dunces for the most part, but sometimes a particularly courageous one would step forward, only to be met with silence. but silence means yes, doesn’t it? so maybe the lack of response means that she agrees with them, that she herself believes that she truly is unfeeling, genuinely as cold as they believe her to be.

and maybe it’s when she gently takes hold of mr. choi’s shoulders and pushes him back in his seat, his most recent email still on full display in front of her now dead professor. SEND TO FIVE OF YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS OR DIE A BRUTAL DEATH, it reads. something like dread weighs upon her chest like lead – fear, perhaps? or maybe that’s just how someone would feel, sitting next to a corpse and all.

she gathers her things, wondering if she should delete the essay mr. choi had just assigned them that day. it almost disturbs her how she worries more about the deadline than her professor’s dead body, but oh well. there’s not much she can do in a situation like this.

she greets the librarian on her way out, but makes no mention of professor choi.

they’ll find his body sooner or later.

(later that day, a cacophony of police sirens can be heard throughout east iri. all lee ilsook college students receive a message explaining the “unfortunate” situation, and are asked to dress in mourning-appropriate clothes the next day.)

THE DUALITY OF MANKIND:

ambitious. everyone knows that she is, the disgraced will always be vengeful to some extent. but is it vengeance, or simply character? who knows. but it can’t be helped, not when the taste of dirt slowly becomes familiar and they can no longer make ends meet. han seulgi didn’t teach her to be like this, never allowed her to settle like this – so she works and she does. these days all she knows is the endless climb to the top and the thirst for more, more, more. and it’s all good, it’s all perfectly good, but she can see the way her father looks at her, can hear him praying to whoever might bother listening to please, help my girl, she’s losing herself and i’m afraid she’ll end up like her so please, help her – it leaves her restless, eyes burning, heart aching and she supposes that, maybe, this is what disappointment feels like.

— and now, the biography

SEVEN RUMORS

1994, han seulgi is the sole heir to han family’s enormous wealth, an exquisite beauty with unparalleled charm and wits; song haneul is a young businessman whose fortunes are built upon the vast farms that surround iri. the ladies say he’s quite the charmer, dashing good looks and all; the men say he’s ready to conquer the world. everybody thinks they’re a match made in heaven but what do they know?

1996, han seulgi and song haneul get married after over two years of dating and three months of engagement. the ceremony is nothing short of touching – you can clearly feel the love between these two! the bride looks absolutely stunning, by the way, and – oh! the groom is just to die for, isn’t she? god, can these two get any more perfect?

1997, han seulgi gives birth to a healthy baby girl named nari – wow, she’s a beautiful one, isn’t she? she has her mother’s eyes, yes? there’s no doubt she’ll grow into a beautiful woman, i mean, have you seen her parents? they look like a family of supermodels, and the baby’s not even a year old!

2004, there have been quite a lot of rumors circling the song family nowadays, isn’t that right? yes, indeed. there have been numerous reports of a conflict between the song family and the authorities in town. apparently song haneul strongly opposes the mayor – but why? nobody knows for sure, but according to a reliable source mr. song seems to believe that the mayor is incredibly corrupt! what a bastard, eh? i’m sure his wife must be sorely disappointed in him. i always thought mr. song was quite admirable, but now i just think he’s an idiot.

2005, it’s strange how we haven’t seen song haneul for quite some time now, no? i heard he took his family to the mountains – why? his business went bankrupt, since nobody wants to buy produce from him anymore. he could have just opened up a new business, but i’ve heard people talking about how he’s lost all his money, too. how could that have happened, though? nobody really knows, but i guess that’s karma. yeah, maybe – that could be it. maybe if he didn’t go after the mayor, this all wouldn’t have happened.

2006, is that han seulgi? is she with that man – whoa! did they just kiss? man, i never pegged her for someone who enjoys pda! doesn’t the guy look too old for her, though? isn’t she married to song haneul? last i checked that man didn’t look like…a leathery old prick. true, true, but maybe she’s left him for good? her husband – ex-husband? whatever he is, did bring shame to the han family as well. maybe this is han seulgi restoring her family name? could’ve chosen a better partner to do that with, i guess, but a person must make do with what he has.

2010, apparently the man han seulgi was last with died recently? yeah, i’ve been hearing about that, too. looks pretty strange, doesn’t it? last i heard the man was itching to get out of iri. was he really an outsider? i’m not too sure myself, but I would assume so. i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before news broke out about him and ms. han. but he really was wealthy, wasn’t he? he really was. it’s all with seulgi now, though. i saw her the other day, looked pretty distraught. i guess she really loved him, eh? for some reason, i believe that’s debatable.

FOUR YEARS

three, song nari finds herself in her father’s study, sobbing and wailing and gasping for breath. he waits, patiently, for her to collect herself. but why do the other kids get to attend school together? why do i have to stay at home and study here when i can just go with them instead? please, mother, i want to go with them! she had begged, crying and moaning all she’d liked that morning whilst her mother had been around. han seulgi had called her a brat, an ingrate who should learn to be more appreciative – as if she were doing her some sort of big favor. this is a privilege only people like them could afford, she had said, but her daughter could not comprehend how spending her days inside this too-large house could be called a privelege when it felt more like punishment. your mother doesn’t like to associate with…other people. father explains when she’s regained some semblance of calm. father’s face is kind and gentle but even she can hear the way he seems to choke on his words, can see how hard it is for him to talk about this. she does not understand this, too, how father always seems to struggle with his words when it comes to mother. but she is a child and they expect her to understand, somehow, so she says she does.

seven, the cracks begin to show. nari has always known about her father’s opposition against, the mayor, though she never really knew why. of course this didn’t sit well with mother, who’d always been used to him caving in to her desires. this time, though, that was not the case. black was the color she’d known best, then, as it was all she’d see when she closed her eyes at night, when the screaming and breaking and shattering would reach its peak in the dead of the night. she does not remember anything like this, did not know that sadness could cut her as badly as this.

eight, an interlude. father’s failing business eventually hits rock-bottom, and the mountains are where they seek refuge. she quite likes the view up here, and judging by the elation in father’s eyes, he does agree. mother looks anything but, however – again, she does not understand.

nine, her mother eventually leaves. father looks broken all of a sudden, as if he’d come across something he would have rather not. it bothers her but he tells her nothing, offering only a crooked smile and ruffling her hair. he tells her not to worry so she tries not to. but there is no hiding secrets from the night, and he hears him whispering sometimes, something about han seulgi being a traitor, a blind wench devoured by her own greed.

TWO FACTS

HAN SEULGI TOLD ON HER HUSBAND

this, she learns eventually, from an old lady selling vegetables just on the outskirts of iri. it may sound suspicious, sure, but she knows her mother enough to be sure that she would have done this, that han seulgi resents her father enough to bring him to his ruin. and in truth, she really did – called for an emergency meeting of sorts and destroyed her husband without remorse. she might have exaggerated, just a little bit – nonetheless, it worked well in her favor, and maybe earned her some points with the mayor (but who knows).

NARI’S GLARE DOES NOT KILL MEN

some people seem to think song nari is some sort of evil witch – and perhaps in a city as strange as iri one cannot help but assume that they do exist and she is one of them, especially when she lives far off into the mountains and is just outright cold. this notion became somewhat widely speculated amongst a number of underclassmen after mr. choi’s death, when someone thought it would be smart to voice their observation on how hard she was glaring at the teacher just hours before his death, when he’d given them the two thousand-word essay due by 11:59 P.M. of course, there is no solid evidence to support this case, so it seems she won’t be called to the precinct anytime soon – for this reason, at least.

ONE GOAL

success. sounds rather vague, doesn’t it? this could be interpreted in a number of ways, but with song nari, no one can really tell: graduation, maybe? yeah, sure. but when she’s constantly topping exams and keeping a relatively clean behavioral slate, it seems this girl’s all good to go. restoring her family name? no one knows for sure, but it would be reasonable – the scorned will always thirst for revenge, or whatever. maybe that’s pushing it too far. perhaps she wishes to ruin her mother? now that’s something i wouldn’t mind seeing. as i said, though, when it comes to her, nobody really knows, so maybe it’s not as deep as we’d like to think. maybe, possibly, conceivably – but really, who knows.

#sr:app #sr:uprising #krp

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