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#at least anything beyond pick-up-and-play short experiences
luvjunie · 11 months
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— roller skating
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pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader
contains: romance, slightlyyy (barely) suggestive fluff, miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes
summary: you and miles go on a date to the roller rink and you have a hard time picking up the skill. you ask him to demonstrate for you and he obliges, but you’re so caught up in him that you’re not sure you learned anything at all. wc: 1,254
a/n: if you want to listen to the song mentioned while reading, i suggest you start it when you come across the spotify link i added during the exact scene it’s playing in the story. i highly recommend waiting until prompted so you can experience exactly what reader did cause chileeee. it hits differenttt like i fr made myself fall in love with this one 😭 also if you didn’t know, this is the exact vibe of a black roller rink lol. example 2
🎧: Close To You - Dreezy, T-Pain
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“miles, i’m going to fall.” you whined nervously, your body basically glued to the length of your boyfriend’s right arm.
“you won’t ma, i got you.”
he laughed gently at your uneasy stance, and secretly at how terrified you were of participating in what’s been one of his favorite activities since he was a child.
his skates rolled smoothly against the floor as he guided the both of you to the rink; but yours, however, awkwardly clunked around as you settled for taking wary steps, instead of actually gliding like you were supposed to.
how you ended up agreeing to a date at the roller rink with miles was beyond you. you were someone who tripped over your own two feet at least twice a day from simply trying to walk. but with his promise of teaching you and his guarantee of going slow, your nerves had dissipated some— until you’d actually slipped the skates on and got out onto the rink.
“don’t pick your feet up mama. just push them out to the side, one after the other and lean your body forward. you got it.”
you heard his instructions loud and clear, but your brain still struggled to send the correct signals to your unsophisticated body.
you wobbled against the browned, laminated wood, not really a fan of your newfound lack of control when it came to your own legs. right hand hovered out beside you in preparation for a tumble, the fingers of your left were tightly clamped around miles’ bicep as an effort to keep your balance. you had a death grip on him, too focused on not eating shit to wonder if you were hurting him or not. you weren’t, but even if you were, he wouldn’t tell you.
“you’re overthinkin’ it.” he smiled down at you, finding your instinctive need to hold onto him adorable.
“how the hell do you do this without falling flat on your ass?” you asked, already exasperated from your short trek from the bench.
“i’m just like that.” he shrugged suavely, chuckling discreetly when your head turned towards him with a pointed glare. “practice. my moms taught me when i was eight,” he rephrased, and you stumbled suddenly, but he quickly caught you by your arm, two strong hands steadying you before your feet could sweep out from under you.
“okay, no, this isn’t gonna work,” a shaky breath pushed passed your lips and somehow you managed to bring the both of you to a stop over by the wall of the rink, hand instantly finding purchase on the railing. “can you just, i don’t know… demonstrate, first?” you waved your hand around, motioning towards the other people out on the floor to get your point across. “maybe if i watch you do it, it’ll come to me easier.”
he nodded, retreating from you slowly, backwards. he gestured back and forth between the both of you with his finger, your eyes unintentionally falling to it. “eyes on me, aight?” he instructed with a subtle smirk, a sultry trace lingering in his tone.
you couldn’t take them off him even if you tried, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
you were convinced your attraction towards this man couldn’t become any stronger than it already was, until “Close To You” by Dreezy started playing through the speakers and the spot lights on the ceiling dimmed dreamily to a mellowed pink, blue, and orange— blending into a seductive mix of captivating hues that illuminated the rink. you felt yourself swoon, and had half a mind to curse out whoever was on music and lighting for aiding in the palpitations of your heart as your eyes followed your boyfriend closely.
you watched his feet first, as one fanned out in a small half-circle after the other, the movement allowing him to skillfully glide out onto the bustling rink.
how he was able to skate backwards when you had such a hard time grasping the concept of even doing it the normal way, you didn’t know. not to mention sifting through people without bumping into a single one of them. and while the technique of it all seemed simple on paper, what really impressed you was how effortless he made it look.
facing the opposite way of everybody else as he cruised, his hips languidly swayed to the beat of the music, upper body leaning just the slightest with them and you had no choice but to gawk at him— at how handsome he looked, at how good he was at this. at how his lips were absentmindedly tucked into themselves due to his focus, then unfurled to faintly mouth the lyrics.
lord have mercy.
you were mesmerized to say the least, lips parted somewhat and mouth dry. it was like everyone else had disappeared, like the two of you were the only ones in the room; time moving slower than it usually did.
once he started enjoying himself and got into a groove, he’d forgotten you were even watching him, until he caught your marveling eyes transfixed on him from across the rink, chin dropping to his chest for a beat as he simpered to himself. tongue wetting his lips, he shook his head in amusement. he already knew why you were looking at him like that.
with one foot expertly crossing in front of the other periodically, he maneuvered himself through a few stragglers with a brief look over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around a couple that happened to be in his way.
yeah, now he was just showing off.
you had no idea what your face looked like, but as he rounded back over to where you were, he laughed at your awestruck expression and called out to you.
“you droolin’, mami!”
if your jaw wasn’t already dropped from watching him nonchalantly coast around, it definitely was now.
your fingers mindlessly rushed to check, because honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if you were, only for a playful glower to settle onto your face when you realized he was messing with you.
having forgotten you were supposed to try for yourself, your eyes widened in slight panic when he suddenly skated over to you and gently took your hand, pulling you out onto the floor against your will.
“no no no no-!”
“cálmate, mama.” he drawled, his words dragging on as he shot you that same charming smile that’d made you fall in love with him in the first place. “i’ll hold you, no te preocupes (don’t worry). just c’mere,”
you gave him a look of uncertainty, but reluctantly moved your feet just enough to get closer to him anyway. he met you halfway, and snaked his right arm around your waist, expertly turning you so your backside was facing him before he pulled you flush against his body, and your teeth found your bottom lip before you could stop them.
his left arm then came around to your front to meet the other and your lungs drew in a wavered breath at the feeling of his hands resting on the soft of your inner thighs, dangerously close to having your knees buckling. your face bloomed with a sweltering heat, mind entirely corrupted by him and him only. how the intoxicating aroma of his dior sauvage cologne invaded your nostrils; how it felt being against him like this. lashes fluttering and mind turning to putty at the way he was holding you, your warning to him was merely a whispered reminder.
“miles.”
“shhh, i know what i’m doin’.” his response had a double meaning to it as he kept you tightly pressed to him, figure hunched over yours a bit. his breath warmed your skin and his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he spoke, his hands tapping rhythmically against your thighs to keep up with the beat of the song while he helped guide you into the same fluid movement he’d demonstrated prior.
your hands came down to rest overtop his, and you were shocked at the way your body naturally began to sway in sync along with his once you let yourself relax into him; the both of you settling into a comfortable stroll.
“see, ¿que te dije? (see, what’d i tell you?)” he teased, his voice a deep hum against your cheek. “you got it.”
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palmofafreezinghand · 5 months
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twilight advent calendar - day eleven: Besides painting, what art forms does Esme enjoy? How do you imagine her art room/setup looks? (prompts here)
Art forms Esme enjoys, and a little bit of her history with art: 
There are very few mediums she has not tried at least once. 
As a child she doodled on every scrap of paper she could get her hands on. As she got older she found the small details portraiture required particularly enticing, she’d nervously slip someone a portrait she had sketched of them or their loved one. Her grandparents were the ones to purchase her half-used paints at a church rummage sale, she rationed them as if they were gold. 
She never considered what she made art. Her mother found her little hobby frustrating beyond belief. The woman had tried to teach her daughter the finer hobbies expected of her, needlework, knitting, the piano, anything that would stop Esme from donning her paint-stained too-short dress and climbing to the top of a tree to “sketch the birds.” Esme did not take well to knitting or cross-stitch as she grew. Her grandmother had barely taught her to sew and only after Esme ripped one too many of her handmade dresses did her mother force her into sewing her own wardrobe. (This backfired when Esme discovered how to sew pants). 
When introduced to an eternity of free time she did not revisit these art forms, in fact, she had barely remembered how much she once enjoyed art. She only picked up a pencil again when Edward forced her to, desperate for her to find a hobby and stop bothering him.
She swore Edward to secrecy, knowing Carlisle would run out and buy far too many supplies. He kept her secret but bought the supplies himself. After her initial irritation wore off she was quite grateful for the gift and needed more paint quite shortly after. 
Her love of interior design and architecture made itself known when she found a dollhouse in the attic, left dusty and broken by the previous owner. She renovated it in secret, compelled to finish the project for some reason she could not quite place. Turns out she had a knack for that too. 
At first she thought her skill was one nonexistent but two nothing more than vampiric ability. Carlisle and Edward spent one afternoon attempting to paint a simple still life with her help and she dropped that second suspicion. 
Oil painting is her first choice when it comes to paints. She loves the ability to jump back into a painting after a few weeks. Nowadays, in her scarce free time, she has been experimenting with water soluble oil paints, much to Carlisle’s amusement who had only just become used to the constant smell of linseed oil. Although he will not lie and say he mourns the constant worry her rags will start a fire, again. 
She sculpts and brings an at-home kiln with her on most moves, although she has to be cautious because she has also started a fire with one of these. She enjoys sculpting people the most. She has made countless ceramic renditions of her husband’s nose, face, hands… 
She has experimented with 3D printing and glass blowing but is still new to the medium. 
Miniatures are still a constant in her art, but these days they look more like architectural models than dollhouses. 
There is a camera with her almost all the time. The rest of the family likes to sneakily take photos, knowing she won’t discover them for a little while. They all know better, Emmett learned the hard way, not to go through any of her SD cards. 
On the few rare occasions she has showed her art in galleries she prefers to exhibit installations rather than collections. Her personal favorite she managed to convince Edward to write and record a score to play throughout the gallery. 
She eventually found her way back to knitting and crochet, but never had the passion for it. 
When Renesmee was born and in her growth spurt Esme sewed constantly, building in growth tucks into every garment, knowing any dress would need to be let out within days.
As Renesmee grew up Esme picked quilting and needlepoint back up. While she no longer had any memories of her own grandmother teaching her to thread a needle and the importance of a thimble, but it makes her feel closer to the woman she doesn't remember as she is asked to be a grandmother herself.
A few details about her workspace: 
 In her dream world, she would have a stand-alone studio and a space to create in the house. Her family is inspiring and simultaneously a huge hindrance to creating.  She naturally gravitates towards picking properties with an old gardening shed, carriage house, and dilapidated guest house/cottage she can renovate to have perfect natural lighting, ample soundproofing, climate control, and ample storage. (Until she has to very quickly renovate a guest house as a ‘welcome to vampirism’ gift). If she has a stand-alone workspace she will settle for working in the family library or at the kitchen table (which are all specially designed to convert into drafting tables when needed). 
 The walls are white and the only art hung on them are her current work in progresses. There are a couple of framed photos on her desk: one of her and Carlisle, a candid of her and Edward taken by Carlisle in 1931, one of the entire family, and a print of the first painting of hers she thought truly resembled her son. She is very particularly about lighting and has OttLites scattered about both her workspace and the house.  
Everything has a place, but that place changes frequently. She reorganizes any time she is stuck on a piece. The family knows to keep their distance if they hear her vacuuming out drawers and moving dozens of paint pots. 
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kikizoshi · 2 months
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Feeling discouraged, so here's a short, unfinished Godos piece that will never be realised. Nikolai's attempting (read: failing) to write his first draft of a play (an adaptation of Dead Souls, Part 2). Fyodor was going to cheer him up and inspire him, somehow, but I don't have any clue how, so this is all I could get out of that idea. (I do at least like how it turned out, though, unfinished as it is.)
---
The words on the page taunted Nikolai like so many Sufi dervishes. They blurred, swirled into characters half-formed, who jumped and jeered just out of Nikolai’s sight. ‘Find us,’ they seemed to say. ‘Come and see our beautiful lives! And then depict us, reveal us to everyone, that we may truly exist.’ They beckoned him to find them, invited him to view their marvelous exploits, to laugh along with their absurd adventures—and then just as he reached to meet them, they slipped away, laughing. Unendingly they tortured him with scenes just beyond grasp, a perfect story hidden in the periphery of a dense fog.
Nikolai groaned, leaned back, and pressed his palms against his eyes. It was a perfect picture of agony, well-practiced and endlessly rehearsed. ‘Yet all the acting in the world won’t save a lacking script,’ he thought. ‘Ah, why can’t you just write yourselves? Hop along, I’ll even guide the quill, so long as you do something, anything, oh please…’ His entreaties, of course, prompted naught but more formless tittering. Nikolai sighed, and contemplated how effective bashing his scull against the door-jam would be at shaking something loose.
“Is something the matter?” an irritatingly calm Fyodor asked from behind him. Nikolai swung around in his chair, resting his arms on the back, and stared pointedly at his relaxed friend who lounged so serenely on the green recliner, a book nestled under his folded palms. The question itself was preemptive, a set-up, a frivolous first line of a three-line script which always arrived at the same conclusion. Nikolai recognised the offer for friendly—and perhaps even needed—advice, but took it no less bitterly. He smiled mirthlessly. Nevertheless, he played his part.
“Whatever gave you that impression? Was it the willful suicide of the last of my creative expression? Or perhaps you hear them laughing too?”
“Your characters won’t work with you?” (Here, the second phrase, to be replied with…)
“Oh, far beyond that. They won’t speak to me at all! I’m being shunned.”
“I see.” Fyodor concluded and stood, pulling the curtain on their impromptu play. Nikolai watched him go, mildly curious which remedy Fyodor would prescribe this time. “I need to visit the theatre,” he said finally. “Would you like to join me?”
Nikolai laughed flatly. “For what? The stage doesn’t—and I say this from great experience—do anything for one’s imagination. If anything, it’s worse, because you see everything that has been and none of what could be! Can you imagine that? I know, I know, you’re ‘not that way artistically inclined,’ but imagine for a moment that the sentences of your computer codes were jumping and jaunting about in front of your very eyes, and so to fix it, you decided to stare at someone else's pages. Well? Would that help you very much?”
“Most likely it wouldn’t.” Fyodor smiled. “But we won’t be going to the stage. I need to stop by the costuming department. Misha talked one of the women there into parting with an unused costume design for Verenka, but couldn’t pick it up himself.”
“And you just so happen to be free?”
“No,” Fyodor said, a bit dejected. “But I couldn’t stand to stare at my colleagues’ ‘pages’. As you say, it won’t do any good.” He sighed wearily. “Some fresh air and new scenery, tea, something else to think about… I need them greatly. And some company would be nice, too.”
Nikolai stood without ceremony (a shame, yes, but recall his lack of inspiration and forgive him), stretched, and said flatly, “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
---
As it turned out, Nikolai was quite quick to regret those words. A lovely stroll down the uncharacteristically sun-touched streets of St. Petersburg wound down into a bustling cafe.
---
Surprisingly, all went well at the theatre. The lady was quite nice, expressing her condolences and well-wishes for the ‘poor young woman’, and waved them on their way. Pattern safely secured, the two stopped by the next-door cafe, ‘The Stray Dog’, (home to aspiring and established artists alike), for a spot of tea. And thence all collapsed.
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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 7 months
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I am deeply saddened to see that actor David McCallum has died. While 90 hardly a short life, when someone has mattered to you, even in the distant way of an actor playing make believe for a living, you always wish the life were longer.
I expect I am about to ramble, and not very coherently (sleep deprivation), so all of it will go under the cut.
Actually, he was about the first actor I ever remember recognizing. When I was 3 I adored an obscure tv series called The Invisible Man, where he played the title character. It bares little resemblance to the original story, instead following the adventure show of the 1970s-1980s formula. I think the fact he played a scientist, married to a scientist, and that the couple happily worked together had a lot to do with it. Reminding me of my parents was a natural thing to appeal to a preschooler.
To be honest, I only remembered fragments of the show, but I remembered him vividly. Even as a little kid if I saw him anywhere my first thought was “lt’s the invisible man!!” and a wave of affection would wash over me.
Affection is something you wouldn’t find with my favorite of his tv shows. Steel, in my beloved Sapphire and Steel, is hardly a warm character. How can I describe the show…Well, the title characters aren’t human, but beings that are sent out to deal with problems in time, or maybe you can say caused by time. Nursery rhymes, photographs, and gas stations take on a menacing quality. If these two show up you better be afraid because while they will go to extreme lengths to stop the threat, those lengths might involve sacrificing you.
Steel the cool, sharp edged, and anything but the lovable nice guy I’d adored as a tot….and I adored him here too.
I was late seeing Sapphire and Steel, but I was even later seeing The Outer Limits (original version) where he starred in two of my favorite episodes.
In one, The Sixth Finger, he played a coal miner experimented on by a scientist until he evolved far beyond a connection to his humanity. I have an action figure of that one!
The other, Forms of Things Unknown, has an obvious inspiration in a certain famous French thriller, but then in comes McCallum, a man experimenting with time. While in the other episode he played a man shedding his humanity with every mutation, here he actually is unearthly from the start, a peculiar characterization that reminds me of the madness of characters that have seen to far into the void, but also of a child lost to forces far beyond them….
TBH, I went through a period where this episode was comfort viewing. I would day dream up back story details for McCallum’s character, and even ways to connect it to Sapphire and Steel.
What? just because I was going full geeky fangirl on a single episode of a tv show made well before I was born isn’t THAT weird on here!
And here is another obscure one I’m fond of, a movie called The Ravine. It’s a movie set during WWII where he’s a German soldier sent to capture a woman that’s been acting as a sniper picking of his side like crazy. The concept, that they end up trapped together and do the enemies to lovers thing, seemed like the usual contrived thing. Still, out of mild curiosity I watched a horrible print on Youtube and I was surprised how effective it was. I was actually sold on the tragic relationship, and I’d gone into it expecting to be rolling me eyes. In fact , since it isn’t (or at least wasn’t) available on DVD in the US I got one from Europe. Good thing the acting and setting are more important than dialog, cause I don’t speak Italian!
Frankenstein: The True Story has about as much relationship to the original novel as Bram Stoker’s Dracula has to the book, but it’s actually a rather fascinating take on subject. Tumblr would approve of the gay subtext (more like text, cause how could even folks in the ‘70s miss it) McCallum’s part is supporting, but crucial being both Frankenstein’s mentor and brain donor. I’ll be honest with you, my weakness for mad scientists is showing because I swooned over even has he enthusiastically collects raw materials (ahem) for their work.
Is it weird that this is the roll he played that had me properly, classic fan girl swooning?
There are couple of adaptations that are notable for me. There is that adaptation of Kidnapped he was in. I got it on DVD for my father because the sequel to Kidnapped was a childhood favorite of his, and this was the rare version to use that book (TBH, Pop had a fanboy crush on the girl in that book, from the way he talk! LOL) Unfortunately Pop died before seeing it, so it colors my thoughts on it. And there was an adaptation of Our Mutual Friend, one of my favorite Dickens novels, but I watched it in a “see all the adaptations” kick so it’s a blur of compare and contrast.
I will end this with the most peculiar way a part he played connected with me.
It started unexpectedly, with me watching The Man from UNCLE on a DVD set my father had gotten for Christmas. My parents had liked the show, but like a lot of shows from before I was born I’d heard a lot about it before I’d seen it.
To be honest I wasn’t particularly impressed. Oh, it was fine, and I did like the warm dynamic of the main two characters. **It’s just sort plain potato chip tv, tasty but forgettable. Plus it was sooo of it’s time that the sexism irritated me no end. I have watched, and loved, a lot of 1960s tv, so maybe I just expected more. I enjoyed it, but if you asked me to rank my faves of the “ Sixties lets do the Spy Thing” tv shows I would pick Wild, Wild, West or The Avengers or Danger Man or Get Smart*** even before it.
So it was fine, I enjoyed it while we watched, and then didn’t really think about it anymore.
And then my father got sick.
My father’s illness, and eventual death, hit me hard. Very hard. I was alone dealing with it. I had no friends, and wasn’t even on Tumblr yet. I couldn’t weigh my parents down with my emotions when they had so much of their own. And with my father’s chemo and such I was often actually alone. Obviously not as much as now, but so many days completely alone was new to me then.
So there I was, on the verge of being an emotional but holding it together, desperately aching for someone, anyone, I could turn to….
And then I started dreaming.
Of course I always had dreamed, but this was different. This was nightly dreaming. Serial dreaming. Stories that continued on for days or weeks. And fictional characters started creeping in. Up until then the characters in dreams had always been my OCs, but now suddenly tv shows, books, movies, comics…they were all fodder for the stories helping me escape.
The part may be one of his most famous roles, but it still came as a huge surprise when I found myself dreaming about Illya.
Actually, the first dream was a general Man from UNCLE dream. It was fun, even if it seemed weird to be dreaming about the show. But then the next one had Illya only.
And so it started, an epic series of dreams, chapter after chapter, night after night. Adventures with Illya.
Well, and aliens and time travel and so on. It was, after all, my subconscious spinning the story, not screenwriters. Gotta get time travel and/or alternate universes in there somewhere if it comes out of mushed up brain.
After a while the dreams had bigger gaps between them, but the dreams with Illya still came. In fact over months they dominated my dreaming. Illya was there all the time.
It got so I spent time when I was awake, thinking about the dreams and the character. What would Illya think of this? What would Illya listen to? What would Illya say? What if Illya were in that situation? What if…
Now, I admit, the Illya I was imagining is only inspired by the one David McCallum played. It looked like him. It sounded like him. I even found myself replaying select episodes to remind myself of his “voice” so my brain could make him seem more authentic. But the truth was he was my interpretation of Illya, my head-cannon, my quirks, my obsessions..
Actually I guess it was my need. I needed someone. My dreams even created characters to be my avatars for interacting with him. I those dreams I could talk to him, laugh with him, cry in front of him, save him or be saved by him, and be his friend.
And in a weird way, that is what my brain was doing. It was giving me an imaginary friend while I slept. Someone smart and kind and brave, to save the world…just like the imaginary friend I’d had when I was little.****
I’d given myself an imaginary friend that looked and sounded like Illya!
Well, in dreams. I wasn’t so far gone I talked to him when I was awake!
But it was comforting. I found myself thinking about those dreams, almost cuddling up to them in those painful dark days. I confess I worried that if I ever were in a delirium or under anesthetic or something might call out to him and have some very embarressing questions asked.
Eventually the dreams stopped. Time moves on. Maybe I didn’t need them anymore, or maybe my subconscious got bored.
TBH I kinda wish I still had dreams about him, or some other characters. Any dreams with a repeated cast or continuing story would be beyond welcome. I could REALLY use their company now.
And now, writing this, I realize just why I actually gasped when I saw David McCallum had died. Yes, as an actor he had played many parts I enjoyed, but other actors have done that without the shock of their death knocking the breath from me. But the fact is no other actor has had their performance gift me with something that felt like a friend when I needed one most.
So that’s why I am sad. It isn’t just a list of parts he played that I loved or that he had been a familiar face as long as I can remember. He got stored in a special part of my mind, the strange area of the imagination where strangers and friends get blurred and fiction protect a fracturing heart.
I am eternally grateful he lived. Even if I didn’t have a list of credits I enjoyed ******, as long as I had those dreams he helped inspire when I needed them most I’d mourn his passing.
Condolences to all that loved him, be they friends, family, or fans.
**Though I would end up in fandom exile for seeing them as like brothers or little boy best friends instead of shipping them. Good on you if you do. I think it’s beautiful every character everywhere gets shipped with someone, but dang, what is with the hate for the non-shipping fans?)
*** The Prisoner, possibly my fave tv show ever, isn’t really in this category to my mind, but a lots of folks would disagree.
****My childhood imaginary friend was the ghost of a little boy murdered by his uncle during the American Revolution. Still, the smart, kind, brave, save the world stuff was there too.
*****I didn’t mention something he did that I enjoyed. For instance, Mother Love, a wonderful bit of tv that criminally isn’t on DVD, because it’s Diana Riggs’ showcase. But then I’ve also never seen any of the six billion years of NCIS (I think those are the letters). Who knows how many other of his work I never saw.
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vael · 2 years
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Black Book is a near-masterpiece.
"I give it a 9.5" -- IGN
Black Book is a narrative card-battling/deck-building game based in Russian Slavic folklore. You play Vasilisa, a young woman whose lover has died. She seeks to break all seven seals of the black book in order to make a wish to bring him back, as legend tells she can. I spent 43 hours completing the game.
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The Good
Black Book does a great job of presenting Slavic folklore to the player. The proper Russian words are used for many elements: the zagavor, the izba, chorts, rusalka, banya; these are words I'll remember, and it was good for the developers to stay true to the roots. I never felt like I was confused by the usage of these words, or traditions that were evident on-screen. It was clear that the developers spent a lot of time researching lore and mythology. Black Book isn't the type of game for the player to skip dialogue. You're often presented with questions and riddles that test your knowledge of the mythology, and everything they'll ask has been delivered to you prior. The book contains entries for anything you've learned, given as you learned them. I read every entry; the ones in the final chapter are some you don't want to miss.
The game is surprisingly long. I typically trust How Long To Beat and go by the completionists' reported times. I played on hard difficulty and typically took my time, exploring "every nook and cranny" as I always do. I clocked in over 8 hours more than the other completionists.
But there's good reason to replay: while you will get the same linear journey each time, the details of how you played are important. Which characters were by your side, who's alive and not, who shows up later at a bonfire; the game never lets you forget that your actions had consequences, both good and bad.
Black Book delivers. It's fair to say in gaming, I've gotten used to being unable to sock it to some jerk boss, or conceivably unconquerable foe, with the game handling their demise in some other way. In Black Book, you're always given the chance to say: nah, your deal sucks, not compromising, time to die. The player's reward is a tough boss battle that also fits thematically with the boss; all I will say is Chapter 7's bosses were some of the more memorable boss fights I've had in years. They were entirely optional and allowed me to skip a short set of trials.
The ending also delivered. I'll admit by 35 hours my interest was starting to wane, but I was absolutely hooked with the end sequence of chapter 6 and beyond.
It keeps itself fresh, introducing periodically introducing new mechanics both via new cards, and in-battle mechanics such as koldun and puzzle fights.
The Bad
Durak was a miss for me; I appreciate that they wanted to include a card game from their culture, but the rules were confusing and I found it to be more of a distraction in an already long game. It didn't have the up-front enjoyment of Witcher 3's Gwent. It actually subtracted from the experience because there are items and skills built to allow you to cheat in it.
I didn't feel connected to the lover at all. He was clearly a plot device, despite a short segment where we experience Vasilisa's pain of losing him once again, where she reaffirms her dedication to him. Honestly, I thought Alexander was a fine chap and would have liked to spend eternity with him.
Often enough, the (excellent) narrator and words on screen don't match up. You can tell the English-speaking voice actors offered some direction upon delivery of their lines. It was a bit distracting, but my understanding is the game is best played in Russian and the writing was solid enough that I could forgive it.
There's an investigation segment which could have been done better. It was slightly buggy and a little hard to follow. My pick wasn't even an option in the end, and the person I least expected was it. This was a system constraint; they just needed a better system for this chapter.
Money became irrelevant around the 4th chapter. As a completionist, it's not uncommon for me to accrue resources and become overpowered, but I felt like some end-game gold sinks would have been warranted. I was disappointed that in the final dramatic chapter, no new items were offered (that I could tell).
Damage calculation could have been done better. The game requires you to calculate accurate damage any time you're doing AoE because it sums that AoE damage. This is a common complaint with the game and I'm not sure how they released a battle-focused DLC without addressing this!
Chort management seemed annoying; I ended up going for a sinless playthrough, so I didn't have to assign them constantly, but I can imagine how annoying it would have been to do so.
All in all, I would still say it was nearly a masterpiece. It achieved what it set out to do, imperfectly in small ways, but it was everything it had to be. The Russian voice acting cast is about three times the size of the English one, and I can only assume the story was delivered better in proper Russian. I would recommend any Russian gamer to play it, and if you like the good points I described, give it a shot on sale. I personally got it through a Humble Bundle.
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grandhotelabyss · 28 days
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I noticed you restructured the American syllabus for the IC, and after groaning at the extra cash I would have to lay down to buy the readings (and at there being only one week of Dickinson*), I rejoiced that I would finally get introduced to American modernism. Along those lines —
Would you consider postwar literature (through to the millenium) for a future IC? If not (or even if so!) I would love to hear how you’d structure this era/a syllabus on it, which you’ve talked about in glowing terms before. But I’m too young to have picked it up as it happened, and it’s too young to have been really canonised yet (or at least, the culture wars have stopped it from being canonised on its own terms rather than primarily political ones). Or maybe it has been but I don’t know where to look, although you said recently that criticism for that era hasn’t yet lived up to the books themselves.
But like, Morrison and DeLilo and Ellison and Bellow and Roth and Baldwin and Pynchon and McCarthy and Nabokov (kinda) and Wallace (apparently) and who else am I missing, and a handful of romancers like Dick and Le Guin — not to mention poets, playwrights, essayists, or Brits! And I don’t know how it all fits together, since we’ve (as Bloom predicted!) handed over the keys to the cultural narrative to the ‘cultural studies’ people who know only how to read films and magazines, and even then just barely.
*Also, do you think you might be able to include at the end of the syllabus a note on the works you’ve swapped out? The expanded guide would be useful, even though (indeed because!) it includes some of the more obvious picks, which I can return to later.
Thanks! I did address some of your questions about how exactly I changed the syllabus in my most recent Substack. I mainly just deleted a few Emerson essays (Nature, "The Divinity School Address," "Circles," "Experience"), Thoreau's Walden (in favor of two shorter pieces by him), and a handful of Whitman's Civil War poems.
I have the lectures for a course I taught on American Lit from 1945 to the present on YouTube here. I wouldn't do anything differently when it comes to poetry and drama than I did there. With fiction, I focused on the short story because it was an intro-level class; for that reason I omitted some writers mainly known for novels (Ellison, Bellow, McCarthy) but I didn't avoid anyone on strictly political grounds (Roth and Wallace are included, for instance, despite the controversy about them). I don't really think of Nabokov as an American writer! For the criticism of the era, big names include Irving Howe, Lionel Trilling, Elizabeth Hardwick, Gore Vidal, Susan Sontag, and then it becomes more strictly academic...I'm not sure I'd ever teach a course on that per se.
I would consider and have considered an IC course focused on the postwar American novel, though I'd probably cut it off at 2000. (As Roger Shattuck once said quixotically of the Visible College, "Students can read living authors on their own time." The few living authors below are over 80 and effectively beyond criticism.) The reading list would probably look like this:
Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear It Away
Saul Bellow, Herzog
Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49
Samuel R. Delany, Babel-17
Joan Didion, Play It as It Lays
Leslie Marmon Silko, Ceremony
Cynthia Ozick, The Cannibal Galaxy
Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian
Maxine Hong Kingston, Tripmaster Monkey [*]
Don DeLillo, Underworld
Toni Morrison, Paradise
With the postwar British novel, I don't have a list at my fingertips and would have to think about it—and probably read more widely myself. Graham Greene, Christopher Isherwood, Muriel Spark, Iris Murdoch, J. G. Ballard, A. S. Byatt, Angela Carter, Salman Rushdie, Kazuo Ishiguro, Ian McEwan, Zadie Smith, David Mitchell...who else? I'm probably missing obvious people! (I've never read Penelope Fitzgerald, for example. I want to read The Blue Flower but have to read that Novalis thing first and then it never happens, etc. Never read Kingsley Amis, don't care for Martin Amis...)
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[*] This one would be aspirational. It's long and ambitious, and I read and was fascinated by some of it while researching for the "U.S. Multicultural Literatures" class I used to teach. I never finished it, though, and keep meaning to get back to it.
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amoveablejake · 1 year
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Album Of The Week: ‘Here’s Love’ By Hank Jones
Stand out song: ‘My Wish’.
Spotify wrapped doesn’t cover the end of the year and that is probably for the best. What it means by not covering the end of the year is that it doesn’t collate the hours that you may spend listening to festive period songs and it also doesn’t count those last ditch attempts to try and change who your artist of the year is and what your top songs are. The thing is though, by not picking up the last couple months of the year, a musical black hole can be formed. Your listening for this period is undocumented and as the year draws to a close, any new songs that you find at this time face the uphill battle of not only staying on your roster but also staying there as you move into the new year. What I have found in the past is that I have watched a film in December then I have become particularly enamored with its score and I will listen to it again and again before it falling off just before the new year and as a result that love affair isn’t caught in the Spotify algorithm. And yes, I will ofcourse remember that time spent with that music but it being left off the wrap up does mean that it doesn’t appear to be one of the key albums and experiences even if it was. Over the past week I have fallen, rather heavily for Hank Jones and his music from ‘Here’s Love’ and the question now is will this love transcend into 2023 and beyond. 
The short answer. Yes. Yes it will. At least, I think so. I think so because when I first stumbled across the gentle piano opening of ‘My Wish’ I knew that this was going to be one of my tracks. A track that would play in the jazz club that appears often in my daydreams. This is the sort of song and the sort of artist that feel as if they have occupied a space in my life for a long time despite only appearing recently. ‘My Wish’ is a bewitching song and is the perfect accompaniment to daydreams the same way that Coltrane’s down tempo work is. For me, ‘My Wish’ really cements its place on the roster when at around the two minutes and fifteen second mark it slightly changes its tone for a moment or two and from then on adds another element into the duration of the track which somehow makes it all the warmer and more comforting. If the song before this point was you walking to your home that point is when the door opens and you walk inside. It is that moment when after looking forward to seeing someone, they are suddenly there, smiling in front of you. Hank Jones’ track here is only, ‘only’, three minutes and thirty two seconds long however, it feels a lot longer. Not because it drags, it does anything but, but rather because you can get so lost in it when it does suddenly draw to a close you find yourself wondering where the time has gone as you reappear from the vision that it has taken you to. 
There have been over the past few months if not for entirety of the year, many albums of the week pieces that have featured Vapourwave records and for good reason. Vapourwave as a genre is a huge part of my roster and my day to day. A behemoth in my listening sphere however, I do occasionally take steps away from it to dip my toe back into other records and genres that I subscribe to. When it comes to jazz, or rather what I would refer to as down tempo, gentle evening, dreaming and reflection jazz (catchy I know), this is a full deep dive rather than just a dip. Jazz is always up there alongside my favourite genres of music as some of the music within its walls can be completely mesmerising and transformative. Hank Jones’ work on ‘Here’s Love’ and inparticular ‘My Wish’ completely fits that bill and is a shining example of why I adore the genre. As I noted uptop, ‘My Wish’ is the type of jazz track that feels, actually, I can’t quite say how it feels. I suppose in a way it feels like an extension of myself or am I a reflection of it. Either way, its the sort of song that I feel entwined with and that connection is there every time the needle drops. On and on and on. 
-Jake, a man coughing up a storm, 12/12/2023
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kierianpattonphoto · 2 years
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Moving Image Research
I have always been fascinated with moving image and our roles as photographers within this. Ever since now that going forward photographers are expected to know how to shoot, edit and deliver videos. For example, i did a corporate job recently where i was doing headshots and then i was expected to create a short 1 minute long clip that summed up this large business meeting that was getting held in the office. It was to be posted on linkedin to bolster the company’s overall image and make them appear very professional and organised. 
Saying that my only real experience with moving image is corporate video! i have always fantasised about creating something, more, something personal in a sense. One of my ideas was to create a portait of someone who has recently moved here from a different country and it would include them doing a voiceover of their experiences of lonliness when they first moved. It would include asking them questions such as “do you ever regret moving over?” or “is there anything you long for here that you could get back home?”.
The plan is to evoke an emotional response from the sitter and maybe even the viewer. But, not only do i plan on having just a voiceover, i also plan on having mark mann style scenes where the sitter is speaking into the camera showing emotion when talking about his personal struggles with moving here. I also plan on showing static scenes, such as a scene of clouds rolling overhead or trees swaying in the wind. Tying the voiceover into a physical representation in a scene is key. An example of this would be if someone was speaking about travelling i would show a clip of the road rolling by while looking out of a car.
Inspiration 
Having the scene match the voiceover is key for this moving image project and i believe it will further evoke the emotional response i am after. I would also like to incorporate a musical score over the video. I have a few ideas of where i would search for this, i could even use the musical scores from some of my favorite films such as ‘bladerunner 2049′ or ‘the place beyond the pines.’
Both films feature very unique music styles and create a deep emotional story line that has the main protagonist long for a sense of belonging.
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All of these examples above convey all the same sense of loneliness and separation. This is through the use of including negative space in the composition around the subject. I would aim to use similar techniques when shooting my moving image to help tie everything in visually with the soundtrack and voiceover. 
I have also been looking at a filmmaker / youtuber Will Derbyshire. His work is beautiful to say the least. His work is often based around travel, people he has met or what is going on in his life at that moment. The films have an amateur feel to them which remind me of the videos your parents would take on holiday or little snap shots on the family camera. Often when i watch his videos i’m hit with a wave of nostalgia or a sense of longing to be transported back to holidays when i was young. 
I aim to take inspiration from parts of his videos such as composition and colour grading. Ive noticed that in his videos they all share a similar soundtrack which is usually an off beat piano playing over usually ambient sounds from the location such as wind, footsteps or police sirens. Having these ambient sounds i believe can add more depth to my moving image, by having just the soundtrack and a voiceover it feels a little 2D and flat. For a moving image piece that i’m creating for the sole purpose of provoking emotion having that extra layer of audio to my work can aid massively.
https://youtu.be/u0SFECKSonU https://youtu.be/ERNcJlU6Dsw
Soundtrack 
Picking a soundtrack for this project is also very important, by choosing the wrong one it can distract the viewer and take away from the story. A soundtrack is merely there to aid in telling the story and to convey the intended feelings. I already have a solid idea as to what genre the score will be. I have been fascinated with ambient music and some light piano pieces. There is one album i keep going back to and thats burial’s Untrue album, it captures ghosts, lost features and life’s liminal spaces. I often refer to the album as feeling like you’re standing waiting for a bus on a rainy December night in the city. The album feels like it romanticises being alone and wandering the city late night in the rain. 
I think certain tracks from this album could work well with my moving image as the film is about moving from your comfort zone and trying to find yourself in this new place you’re in. Tracks such as this one below i have linked are melancholic and almost a eulogy to the feeling you get when you’re walking home from a night-out or from work in those dark wet winter nights. 
I would love to put this track over the finishing sequences of shots. 
https://youtu.be/GbfrgJls7n4
Storyboard & Voiceover 
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First rough copy i am happy with.
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There are a few things i could change towards making a final rough cut, i’d like to get a bit more variance in terms of city scapes to add into the visual side of things, i think the key is to find things that are seemingly normal but quite beautiful. Things such as golden leaves on a wet pavement or a quiet park with leaves falling. Having these simple yet stunning visuals play into the idea that all these places are the same as back home but they have little differences that can make a big impact. 
I would also like to film Logan and include some sort of close up of his face towards the end of the video just sp it puts a voice to a face, i think doing this will make it a bit more relatable and will contain more of a human element. I may also look into adding a few sound effects such as a film spool and the beep countdown as my film is 16mm film inspired, so i believe it would add a but more depth to the film. 
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I thankfully managed to get a hold of logan and shoot some close ups, medium shots and long shots of him stood in my back garden. I shot a fair good amount of clips so i could have a bit variance in post and then deice what ones i prefer. Below are stills pulled from each clip i could of used. 
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clip 1
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Clip 2 
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Clip 3
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Clip 4
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Clip 5 ( a touch out of focus sadly )
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So i think out of all of these clip 3 holds the most emotion in it, in the other 4 clips logan is either looking away or has too much negative space around him which takes away some emotion. When logan is square onto the camera with an extreme close up it holds some value and emotion which can bring alot into my film, like i said earlier it brings in a human value to it which can aid a lot in trying to convey emotion.
The next step was to bring the clip into premiere pro and overlay the 16mm film effect over the clip. With and Without 
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AS you can see the effect does brighten up the overall image so i would compensate this by dragging and dropping a lumetri colour effect onto the clip, this then allows me to do basic exposure correction and colour correction. 
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Of course when in import the clip it wont be cropped either, so for the film effect overlay to line up i would need to crop the video. I do this buy going to video effects > transform > crop and then i would drag and drop it onto the clip i would like cropped. 
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Different streetscapes 
I ended up going for a fairly long walk around the streets near my flat just after it rained in the hunt for anything visually interesting in the usual “mundane”. I already had a decent idea of what i needed, one of which was to shoot in the park at the end of my street, it was small shared park which usually featured small families or people playing with their dog, to capture the simplicity of this was key.
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Almost final 
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As you can see i have added a few more street scenes to the video which has made it a bit more visually appealing, i also adjusted the timing on some of the clips as they were a second or two too long. I think from here i have my core film its just a case of adding the clips of Logan and adding small sound effects and adjusting timing
Sound effects 
I thought that just having the film open up with the soundtrack was a little too simple and boring. Plus when you see films that have used a similar visual style to me by using a film effect they will always include a sound effect of a film reel starting up. 
youtube
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Final Version & Evaluation
https://youtu.be/Rf4M5BZ__Oo
Moving image Evaluation - Kierian Patton BA3
Evaluation
Overall I would deem this a successful project from start to finish. I would say I had done sufficient research into the type of moving image I wanted to create and then I experimented with sound effects and visual effects to create my moving image. When looking into pieces of media of which I could draw inspiration from I found myself dis- covering a visual style and story telling from a select few creators on YouTube. By dis- covering the exact visual style I was after so early on was crucial to the development of my moving image. It allowed me to have a streamlined process of firstly writing up a short script and general idea and then expanding it into a comprehensive story board. From there I was able to convey exactly what I required off my actor Logan at the time, and when it came to editing I had already pre-visualised the pacing and timing of the moving image.
Researching the soundtrack that would go into my moving image was tricky as I wished to find something melancholic yet hopeful. As you may be able to guess that was rather difficult, I found that almost placing myself in the actors shoes in terms of what he may be feeling when speaking about his time moving countries was extremely beneficial in grasping an idea of what musical genre or sub genre I would need to explore. I ended up setting my sights on Burial, his music emulated the trend of “hauntology” in the early 2000’s and pushing the boundaries of breakbeats, dubstep and jungle at that time. I used the first 30 seconds of the track “Etched Headplate” from his critically acclaimed 2007 album “Untrue” as I liked the vocals at the start and then from the same album I used the song “In McDonald’s” for the rest of the moving image to create a feeling of nostalgia and melancholy. If I was to shoot this project again I would use another actor as I found myself struggling to secure Logan to shoot for a day or two as he was very busy and sometimes he wouldn’t show up to the shoot, I later found he had a few personal issues going on which I understood. I was not the biggest fan of the voiceover for my moving image as I felt as though it sounded very scripted and slow, if I was to redo it I would sit Logan down in an interview type of scenario and fire off questions and then get a more genuine response and allow him to speak as if it was a normal conversation and not filmed. Overall, I am happy with how my moving image turned out. From looking at visual references on YouTube to researching the music and sounds and to finally piecing it all together in post production. There are a few things like I reiterated previously is that I would use a different actor or actress who had a more flexible schedule and I would also change the pacing of the voice-over as I felt as though it was too regimented sounding.
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supagogoman · 2 months
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I recently finished Altdeus: Beyond Chronos. This is a relatively short visual novel that I kinda purchased on impulse as an occaisonal weeb VN enjoyer, and the premise of a VN in VR intrigued me. I quite liked it overall and I felt like writing some of my thoughts about it.
I won't spoil anything specific about the plot, but basically the story takes place in a world where humanity is hunkered in an underground city as the surface has been destroyed and is swarming with giant monsters called Meteora. Giant robots called Makhia are humanity's only defense against these threats. It takes a few cues from things like Evangeleon, but the primary focus is a story focused on the protagonist, Chloe, a genetically engineered super soldier who is one of two pilots of the Makhia who is dealing with grief after the loss of her best friend Coco at the hands of the Meteora. Overall the characters were pretty compelling to me. I found some of the designs a little generic in my opinion, but after a while, as each characters goals and motivations are revealed, it's easy to get heavily invested and it even had me tearing up at points in the story.
While Altdeus is a pretty competent visual novel on it's own, what makes it a little more unique is the fact it's designed for VR (although a non-VR Switch version is being released soon). This is both pretty cool and also a missed opportunity. When I think of VR experiences usually I think of cool 3D visuals or stuff where you interact with the environment to help immerse yourself in the world, but as a visual novel the interaction is barely present. There's only a handful of instances where you solve "puzzles" in the world and this usually involves picking up an object and using it on another object right next to it. The only other physically interactive moments come from the giant robot fights which are heavily scripted, only require minimal input and all play out more or less the same. At the very least the robot fights are cool to experience, each one having a hype as hell soundtrack, but they're such a small part of the game. This isn't inherently a problem but I almost feel sorry for any chumps who purchased it purely looking at the Steam page lured in by the description of "a sci-fi adventure full of robot battles" because that's borderline false advertising.
As for the rest of the experience, in true Visual Novel fashion, 90% of the time is standing there listening to characters talk and making the occaisional decision to detirmine where the story goes. As such, it's a little difficult to justify playing it in VR and why it was originally a Quest exclusive, however there are a few things where VR does enhance the experience:
The experience of fighting in a cockpit of a giant robot in VR, even with the limited interaction, is undeniably cool as hell.
Talking face to face with the characters is pretty neat.
They will also invade your personal space
You can hold hands and hug the waifus in VR.
In my mind I keep thinking of little things that I want to keep complaining about for whatever reason; for example I could complain that the English dub is unfortunately pretty bad. I could also mention how most of the time the graphics are pretty basic and character animations are almost non-existent during the visual novel portions; this would be expected in a regular 2D visual novel with sprites but having 3D character models in VR stand mostly still and phase between poses does hurt the immersion a little. It seems all the animation budget went into the mecha fights and the pop song concerts (because of course the game features a virtual diva character).
Dispite all that, though, the story and characters were enough for me to be intrigued throughout and I'd still recommend it. As a non VR version is being released soon, I'd say it's worth checking out if the premise interests you.
I may have complained about how Altdeus doesn't use VR to it's full potential, but it turns out they've made a newer game Dyschronia: Chronos Alternate. This has been out on Quest and PSVR2 for a while but is soon releasing in VR and Non VR on Steam and Switch and after playing the demo this one seems a lot more promising, with higher production values and presumably a higher budget (theme song by Suisei of Hololive zomg). More importantly it features actual gameplay and feels like some kind of anime Minority Report, so I'm definitely interested in checking that one out eventually.
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ladybuvelle · 7 years
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// Sona-mun gushes a bit about Pokemon Sun, so I’ll put it under cut since it’s not League related at all.
// Can I just say, I’m enjoying Pokemon Sun more than I thought I would. At first I felt like it was holding my hand way too much in the beginning and explaining things to death (or not explaining certain elements at all and just throwing them at you), but once you finish the first island’s trials and get more free reign, I like it. I like the sense that the game wants me to go exploring, and that there’s more to find if you’re really careful to look for it.
The quality of life choices and changes are great, too. Ride Pokemon are a neat idea for the HM move problem, and they’re handled in a way that both feels SO empowering and satisfying when you get them but aren’t all-out OP.
Four things in particular bother me though. Not enough to ruin the game, but they can get really annoying:
- SOS battles (where Pokemon call for help) are a neat idea in theory. But in practice you can end up wanting to catch a Pokemon you just found and you can’t because he keeps fucking calling for help! Sometimes the call fails, but I’ve been in fights where I literally went through 20 called Pokemon before I was able to get them to stop. I get that you can only find some Pokemon via SOS battles at a low rate, and I have found some, but sheesh... Sometimes I just wanna catch a Wishiwashi without him crying for help every turn. I guess I should be thankful they can only call one partner.
- The Festival Plaza is poorly implemented. One minute you look down at your Rotom Dex and you realize there’s a new button there for something called ‘Festival Plaza’, and some dude named Sophocles is just “Yo hi greet people for me that’s awesome have fun!”. When everything else up until that point had been explained to death or drawn out, this sudden feature felt like it came out of nowhere. And for the most part it feels pointless. There’s a daily lottery you can do, which I guess is fine, though it can give you some really powerful healing/Pokeball items very early and I don’t know how I feel about that in a game that’s already handing out money and items like it’s air. The “mini game” things like the haunted house and the bouncy castle aren’t mini games at all. You just pay and get to read some text about what your Pokemon is doing, and barely that. I really enjoyed the X/Y minigames for EV training. It gave me a sense of agency over it all, and when you got good enough at them you could do the games incredibly quickly and see very clear progress. It was a great way to take the pain out of constant Pokemon battles for EVs. This is just a service you pay for now and bam, it’s done. You don’t even get everything to start with, you have to level up the plaza as a whole to get new and better facilities. I just don’t like it. Maybe I’ll change my mind later, but as a whole it’s just really tedious. Oh, and the “trial” mini-games you can do there are the most mundane, time consuming, and grating thing. The first time I do any of them it’s fun enough as a kind of memory challenge for types and movesets and languages or whatever the subject is, but doing them over and over is just blegh.
- Lastly, it’s way too easy to hit your Pokemon in Pokemon Refresh. WHY WOULD YOU EVEN IMPLEMENT A WAY TO HURT YOUR POKEMON LIKE THAT?! I’m just trying to pet them! But sometimes it registers my touch as a tap and I end up hitting them! It makes me feel awful, and it can happen even when I’m trying to be super careful not to bounce my fingernail or the stylus on the screen by accident.
- I’m disappointed in the lack of avatar customization. Somehow I feel like X/Y had way more to offer, with even more hairstyles and stuff after you beat the initial game (if I remember correctly). But here the styles and hair colors are very, very limited (or they certainly feel limited, but maybe my memory is bad). Hair colors are mostly limited to natural hair colors (with I guess the exception of white sort of, and wine red sort of - still natural enough). No wild colors like green or pink or blue. I would have also liked different eye styles other than constant O-O face. With even just different eyes that would give SO much more differences between players looks. It’s not that I think my avatar looks bad, it’s just that if you want to give me customization options I’d appreciate some dynamism. I’d like to be able to play an older character in general, but hey, I understand the reasons for that at least.
I know that sounds like a lot of complaining, but I am really enjoying the rest of the game! And I’m not even terribly far in yet, honestly.
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corvuscrowned · 2 years
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Suds szn has officially come to an end! There were some absolutely remarkable fics and art in this collection, and with Erised and 25 Days posting, it’s easy to get a little overwhelmed with the sheer quantity of fantastic works out there. So I did a little roundup of my favorite sudsy fics and art from this year’s fest for anyone looking for a place to start!
note: some summaries have been truncated for space.
FICS
Ceremonials by  @jackvbriefs
“What are you doing here?” Harry said.
This Malfoy blinked up at him, then lifted the bottle of tequila.
“I’m teaching you how to make a drink.”
This fic absolutely blew me away from beginning to end. It follows Harry as he finds himself repeatedly visiting limbo every time he’s on the brink of death - which is, of course, quite often - and this time, he sees a very familiar face. This fic featured incredible worldbuilding in such a short amount of time, had unforgettable ritualistic elements, fostered delicious, fruitful tension, and wrapped it all up with delightful prose. 
A Grey Shrike Alighted Upon My Wishbone by @opaleopioid
Cursed to forget everything about Harry Potter, Draco has to kill if he wants a cure.
I haven’t read too many amnesia fics, and now I feel like I don’t need to. This take on the trope was beyond beautiful, heartbreaking, fresh, and unique. It’s so clear to see that every word in this fic was carefully chosen, and it made for a poignant, unforgettable, and challenging (in the best way!) read. 
Bacchanal, Bacchanal by @calypsotempete
One crisp morning in September, Harry receives a newspaper and a note. What follows is a descent into a world built by Draco Malfoy full of debauchery, glamour, and clawfoot tubs that wash away the miasma of hard-earned guilt to appease gods that may not exist but offer redemption all the same.
I tried very hard to put this fic down (I HAD THINGS TO DO!!!) and found that I could not. This was an incredible, colorful read, featuring vivid descriptions of Draco’s illicit parties without falling into any of the common tropes and pitfalls of party fics. The piece was anything but one-note - Harry’s internal struggles over the nature of his relationship with Draco paired with Draco’s inability to forgive himself plays out in some incredibly intense scenes that you just need to read to experience for yourself!
Possessed by @shah-writes
tldr; a sentient curse possesses Draco, leading to a whole lot of Auror action, magical theory, and baths!
I was delighted to see horror elements in this fest, and this fic does not disappoint. From beginning to end, I was enraptured by the details of the manifestations of the curse that possessed Draco, the way it intersected his relationship with Harry, and the visceral desperation that kept them fighting for one another. A truly unique read.
Postcards from Italy by iota/@sorrybutblog​
A pool party, a nightclub, a bathtub. Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expected to run into the summer before his third year of university, but he's not complaining (at least not anymore).
… And now for something a little lighter! I love fics that transport me somewhere else, and this one delivered that in spades. The fantastic Drarry banter and expert characterization in this sexy, sudsy visit to Italy made it an immediate favorite of mine - one I store away in my bookmarks to reread when I need a pick-me-up. Highly recommend for anyone who’s missing warm summer months right now!
Just a Phone Call Away by @cavendishbutterfly
Today’s the day: Harry’s getting over his ridiculous crush on Draco Malfoy. Even if Draco’s just invited himself over to wash Harry’s hair. In a very platonic way, obviously. Not intimate at all.
They can just be friends, right?
It wouldn’t be a Suds rec list without some good old fashioned hair washing. This fic has it all - crushes, pining, a fun excuse for the boys to get real close, and - my personal favorite - the most oblivious Harry Potter you’ve ever seen. Perfectly fluffy without losing character, and such soft, sweet intimacy throughout. A great read for anyone who’s looking for something with classic SudsFest vibes.
fic & art combos and art under the cut!
FIC & ART
Casefile: Operation MoD by @m0srael & @fantalf
After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter began having strange, unsettling visions--visions unlike those had by other Seers. Draco Malfoy, lab director in the Department of Mysteries Fate Division has been assigned to sit beside the experimental sensory deprivation tank that Harry uses to stimulate his Inner Eye. What Harry Sees is a mystery. What Draco sees is a vulnerable man, too selfless and trusting for his own good, fading away before his very eyes.
Is Draco the only one who can put a stop to Operation MoD?
If you’re looking for something really unique and fresh, you should definitely start here. The telling of this fic through found materials - Ministry recordings and transcripts as well as Draco’s diary - made it extremely lifelike and hard to forget. But this fic doesn’t rely on its unique storytelling devices to be compelling - far from it, though I hesitate to give too much away.
And as if that wasn’t enough, the fic features incredible and chilling art that is absolutely soul piercing. I definitely did not stare at it for way too long.
On Target by @the-sinking-ship and milkandhoney/ @fictional
A charity dunk tank, some sorry excuses for friends, a Slytherin with freakishly good aim, a (mostly) empty locker room, and one very small towel. Because, apparently, everyone is dying to get Harry Potter wet.
Characterization is a total make or break for me as a reader - and the characterization in this fic made me all but swoon. The detail work in the writing is second to none, with so much depth packed away in a deceptively simple story. Sometimes attention to detail and character drops off when the smut starts, but it was nearly the opposite in this fic, with so much story packed into the spicy parts.
And the art! THE ART. Incredible, vivid use of color, layers upon layers of story and detail, amazing, expressive characters - and we have to talk about the look Harry and Draco are exchanging. Every time I look at this piece (TOO MANY TIMES!!!) I discover something new, and the way this fic and art complement each other is spot on.
ART
The Next Morning, Malfoy Manor by @gryffindorhearts​
Auror training has been exhausting, to say the least, and Harry's gotten tired of making do in the tiny Ministry shower cubicles after the daily drills. He's going to prove to Draco that taking him home was the best idea either of them has ever had.
!!!! I just implore you to check this one out for yourself! Draco’s very Draco expression, the amazing attention to detail, the way your mind just fills in an entire story with the art + the title… just incredible.
something in the water by @helle-bored
Art for the Sudsfest prompt: Draco came back from a work trip different, and now Harry's seeing things in the bathwater. Is there something -- someone -- following him? Is there any way to escape it? Can he save Draco (and himself) before it gets them?
I absolutely LOVED this piece - a picture of sweet domesticity with something that’s just… a little… off. A perfect execution of the prompt - and Harry’s boxers are probably my favorite thing on earth.
so rest your weary heart with me. by @bluebutter-art
After the war, Harry starts to use sensory deprivation tanks to induce psychosis-like hallucinations, eager to see those who he has lost one more time.
Draco helps him get back on his feet, replacing the dirty flashbacks of the war with clean memories of love.
A story of what is loved, lost and found.
This was a complete emotional journey of a comic. My eyes definitely did not well up at the end. The art itself is just masterful - it’s impossible to put into words how much expressive, incredible storytelling was wrapped up in this wordless work. If you’re going to click, please be ready to feel things.
Let Go by @bubble-gumhead
The candles flickered, the wax dripping and puddling on the tub.
Harry sucked in a breath, the steam filling his lungs.
"Harry," Draco whispered in his ear, crawling onto his lap. The water was cool against his skin, the glass vials filled with red tinctures glowed and seemed to sigh with every breath Harry took.
"Harry," Draco whispered again, "Just let go."
Blood magic may or may not be my favorite thing ever, so this piece was an instant fav. This art feels like something out of a storybook, and all the details��are completely electric - the expressions, the magic, the candles, the blood, the dark night brewing outside of the window. A truly unforgettable contribution to the fest.
I still haven’t gotten around to checking out every single piece in the collection, and I’m sure there are plenty more gems - take a look for yourself <3 
237 notes · View notes
fridge-reviews · 2 years
Text
The Best Games of 2021
Welcome to the my personal list of games I enjoyed this year. That’s right it’s my list, feel free to disagree with me but it won’t change anything. Anyway here are the rules;
1. These are games that I’ve played and reviewed this year. 2. The only order to this list is the order in which I reviewed them, its not a top 10, these all feature because of how good I consider them to be. 3. The games don’t have to have been released this year.
With that all said, lets get into it.
Ori and the Blind Forest
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Ori and the Blind Forest is a stunning looking game but beyond that also provides a challenging experience. There wasn't a moment in this game that I wasn't thoroughly enjoying myself and so it deserves to be in my list.
Darkest Dungeon
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I was so sure I'd hate this game, all the media I'd seen about it had told me it would annoy and frustrate me. So imagine my surprise that not only did I not hate it but instead loved it! It's got tactical combat, a bit of light city building and resource management... All things I love. Throw on top a dark and dreary story filled with eldritch horror and it had me hooked.
Doom Eternal
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The sequel to 2016's Doom this game had big shoes to fill. One could argue that it failed to do that, but that was always a going to be an incredibly hard goal to attain. What Doom Eternal did do was come at the right time for me, after being stuck indoors for most of a year it was exactly what I needed to vent out a bit of pent up anger and it did so with great efficacy.
Spiritfarer
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Oh, this game... I loved this game. It made me cry several times not always from the feeling of loss but also the joy it inspired. I'm also impressed with how the developers have continued to support the game by introducing new characters (though they have now stopped doing so and, fittingly, they have said goodbye).
Chicory: A Colourful Tale
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This is a game I backed on Kickstarter on a whim, and I'm so glad I did so! While the game does touch on several delicate subjects I found that it was incredibly positive in the message it was trying to deliver.
Titanfall 2
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One of my friends badgered me into playing this game, right up to the point of buying it me because he knew I'd eventually get around to it. Well, I'm glad he did. This game was far better than it had any right to be and while the campaign may be short it definitely makes an great impression.
Metro Exodus
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I've been a fan of the Metro series for as long as it has existed (as a game) but I worried how they were going to continue the series or even if the series would continue at all. Now having played this game I actually don't want another. This game ends it all perfectly... Also it finally made me pick up the books the games are based off of.
Loop Hero
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Loop Hero was unexpected, I'd heard about it a little from various podcasts but none had really gone into detail as to what Loop Hero 'was'. Having played and completed it, I totally understand why, there's really nothing like it, or at least there wasn't. A unique concept well executed.
Dying Light: Enhanced Edition
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When I picked up Dying Light I thought I was going to see nothing more than a rehash of Dead Island. In a way I was right, but I was also very wrong, when comparing the two Dead Island feels unfinished and lacking polish. The combat is frantic and gory and the scenery... Well its just stunning.
Griftlands
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I've played a lot of deckbuilding games in my life, both virtually and physically. I'd like to think that it's made me something of an expert on them, though perhaps that's a bit arrogant. Griftlands is unlike any deckbuilding game I've seen before actually I can think of one game that has mechanics as in depth as this (even though its not strictly speaking a deck builder) and that's Magic the Gathering. Then this game has not just one great story to tell but four!
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Normally I have little trouble working out which games will make my list, the games just... stand out to me. This year, however, I've had a much harder time of it. I've played some truly high quality games this year and I can't wait to see what next year brings! That being said... Last year I pointed out that there had been a lot of disturbing news coming from the likes of Activision, Ubisoft, CD Project Red and Rockstar. I had hoped they'd buck their ideas up but it seems that they just want to double down on the awfulness that they perpetrated and continue to do so. Thankfully there is a little bit of light in this dark time in the industry, it seems that there is some groundswell and that something like the start of a union is starting to form. I truly hope that this comes to pass, at this point collective bargaining is the only way things are going to change. I wish I had more presence online just so I could perhaps raise awareness about issues like that. Perhaps that's what I'll work on as a project next.
Anyway, that's enough for this year, I hope you all have a great time and stay safe!
118 notes · View notes
husbandohunter · 3 years
Note
Dottore with short drabble “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”
Something angsty pls? Thank you!
Tainted Glass [Dottore x Reader/Genshin Impact]
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Synopsis: Can you escape the prison you made?
(A twisted Cinderella story. The girl was covered in cinders because she was fatally addicted to drowning in flames.)
Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, violence, death
(A/n): To be honest anon, I didn’t know what the word ‘drabble’ means until I googled it. I uh...hope you don’t mind the length :> 
-----------------------
You fell back against the cold hard floor with your arms bent and head turned sideways. The stinging pain spreads across your cheek. It burns. But your mind was still trying to register what had just came into fruition. 
Why?
The thought was so foreign somehow as if you could hardly believe he was doing this. But then the scene plays in your head again. You froze, your gaze enlarged and clueless while staring at the pale ground as it slowly begins to darken in the seeping movement of his menacing, haunting shadow. 
"Insolent woman, you wretch!" He spat in a disgusted tone, "How dare you speak to me in such demanding manner? Have I already told you, only talk when you have something important to say?"
You didn't respond, rather you merely let the strands fall in front of your vision as you gingerly pressed your hand against the place where he hit you. 
I…don't quite understand…
Dottore glowers down at your hunched form. He was never a man known for the virtue of patience. This man, the one who calls him your husband, you learned a long time ago to not meet his eyes as they would signal a hint of dominance amidst his authority, especially during moments like these. You came to feel his eyes instead, they were usually intense and full of wrath, sometimes crazed and curious while looking at his finest creations. He always loved experimenting in his labratory. After all, it was the only thing that could truly make the madman smile.
What is it that I'm missing? Where did I go wrong?
And you would do anything to obtain at least a fraction of the love he had left in his heart. 
He marches onward with heavy footsteps, paying no mind to your well-being, "Tch get out of my sight. I don't have the time to entertain with anymore these theatrics."
At the sound of him leaving you darted your attention towards him, "Wait, come back. Come back, " you plea softly, "Hector…" But he ignores your call. The back of your fiance disappears behind the door and slams it with a resounding thud. He was gone. You couldn't save him.
"No," As a result, you burried your face into your palms and cried.
“I'm sorry.”
What is love?
Being raised in one of the most prestigious bloodlines of Fontaine, a life filled with riches since your parents were well known scholars throughout Teyvat, they provided you and your family with everything you needed. From exquisite dishes to priceless jewelry, yet even among those riches you never did find an answer to your question. They were tangibles and short-lasting, eventually leaving you with nothing until the glass of your heart was filled empty. They seemed to have cared more about their fortune along with the brightest child of their family line, your brother, a male heir, someone who fulfilled their expectations where you couldn't do so. And because he was able to give them what they wanted, he was loved.
I see, love is conditional.
Realizing that you possessed no talent to achieve what your brother had accomplished, you came to accept that you were undeserving of their love. Love was for the smart. Love was for the gifted.  Love was for everything you are not. There was no place for your kind and thus you locked yourself up in your bedroom chambers along with your fragile heart where no one would try to find you, picking up the books upon the shelves and getting lost in their fantasies. 
They told you many beautiful things about the world and many reasons why it was so tragic. Because they weren't real. The story begins with a princess who was a kind-hearted soul, deprived from the care of her evil stepmother and dreams of marrying a prince from a land far far away. They often end on a happily ever after with the princes finding her one true love. You've never seen anything like it. Where two people, despite the struggles they went through, loved each other unconditionally.
Unconditional love only exists in dreams.
Or so you thought to believe.
One day a man marched right at the doorsteps of your mansion. He was a student coming all the way from Sumeru Academia and had high hopes of building a business partnership with your father. The man was declined of course, you watched from the garden bushes as he was sent off back into his carriage. He stops abruptly and turns his head ajar to catch your figure, his inquisitive eyes were both striking and sharp. Like thorns of a rose that was ready to prick anyone who dares to come close. Even so, they made a very lasting impression.
Red eyes.
It was the first time that someone had looked your way.
Couple of months later, the government had arranged a grand ball where all nobles would gather and commit to building their social circle. Useless events. There was no reason for you to engage. While your parents were occupied with the latest gossips and your brother surrounded by fathers who were eager to marry their daughters to him, you snuck outside to the balcony and hid away from the crowd. Quiet at last. And as things should be. The moon was your only friend because she was just like you; half empty. Maybe that was why you still had a glimmer of hope for the other half to be filled. 
Part white, you inquired, pristine and untainted. From far away it looked similar to snow. 
"My, how pleasantly surprising."
While the other part was stained with black cinders.
You glanced over your shoulder to see a man leaning against the pillar. His mint coloured bangs were slicked back in a trendy fashion, complimenting the white suit he adorned himself with. The golden chains hanging around his ebony boots dangled and clanged with each step he took forward until the light finally reveals his face.
"You seem familiar," you say while squinting your eyes, "Are you the person my father rejected back in February?"
He quirks one brow and you were afraid if you had offended him. But before you could utter an apology, the man splits his lips into a toothy grin and bursts out into a maniac-like laughter. He was completely insane, you thought to yourself. Though he paid no mind to your discomfort and continued to dwell in his amusement, "Hahaha straightforward, I like it! So what if I am? Is it a requirement to be a noble for me to simply have a chat?"
"And if I may ask why?"
"Hmmm, why?" The man reaches for the balcony and presses his back there. He threw his head backward before drilling his ruby gaze into yours, "I too am not fond of annoying crowds. Those snobbish fools thinking they're above everyone else just because they have a couple of mora when that is all they are worth. It's almost too hilarious for my own good."
You could tell there was disdain in his tone. Mainly towards your father who were one of the many unkind nobles of Fontaine and was only liked because of his success. Gripping your hands upon the stone railings, you looked down at the distant trees below while the wind rustled them apart, "I can't deny that," you say dissapointedly, "It's common for nobles not to associate with lower classes as it could potentially ruin their image. Though I may not have been there but I'm sure you had much to offer in terms of your brilliance, erm, Mister…?"
"Hector," Hector placed a palm on his chest with a polite bow following suit, "Hector Dufour-Lapointé. It is a pleasure to make you an acquaintance Lady (Y/n)."
"You know my name?"
"How could I not?" Hector smirks lazily as he danced around you, "I saw you before hiding behind the rose bushes back in your estate. Quite curious why you didn't attempt to say hello."
He even remembers that too. You fiddled with the fabric of your dress, "My apologies. I'm not use to socializing so much."
“Is that so? I think you're not giving yourself enough credit," he complimented while shrugging, "This is much more entertaining than hanging in that insufferably crowded room, it was an unexpected occurence to meet you here of all places. However, I must say time can fly if I'm able to enjoy myself."
You shifted away from his stare, "You flatter me. We've only been talking for a few minutes."
"I have yet to realize it then" Hector's cheerfulness remains at stance despite your gloomy response. He leans forward like a curious child and tosses you a question, "Then allow me to ask, what brings you out here Lady (Y/n)? I don't see any reason when your family are such highly respected people of Fontaine." 
"I'm not like them!" You retort instantly, causing the man to glance at you with skepticism, "I mean, I have nothing to do with them and they have nothing to do with me. That's just how it is. They already have Clement after all…"
Why am I telling him this?
"Ah your brother I assume. Yes so I've heard much about his genius mind. There were a few instances where he and I collaborated at Sumeru Academia," Hector speaks as if regarding to his unpleasant memories, "Although he never said anything about having a sister."
"We're not that close. And I'm not very fond of him," you confessed bluntly.
"Neither am I," Hector agreed with a scowl, "He claims his position using the knowledge derived from history books but never tries to think beyond the norm. That ignorant mindset of his will surely be his downfall one day."
"Ignorance can lead to anyone's downfall. If they turn a blind eye to the truth, so much can be taken from them," you paused shortly from rambling too much, "That's what I read in books at least."
"As expected of your lineage," he sighs whimsically, "Such avid readers."
"Well my family prefers documents and research. I've gone through them too but I will always love reading fiction."
"Ha! Seems you really are trying to be different from the rest of your family."
Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, you had already forgotten about the cold breeze despite your dress being less than ideal for the outdoors. The man, although he can be a little to blathering at times, was more than what seemed to be on the surface. At first you thought of him as someone here to take advantage of your relations to your father but he seemed so sincere when listening to your stories, so eager while expressing his thoughts and even made you laugh a couple of times. You didn't realize that the clock had already struck twelve as the guests were preparing to leave but you just weren't ready to do the same.
"Until next time (Y/n)," he takes your fingers and pressed a kiss on top of them, though you were more struck by how he addressed you without honorifics, "I look forward to speaking with you again."
A warm smile graces your lips as you cursty, "Likewise Hector. Thank you for listening to me. I know I must have taken a long time."
Hector sneered but you already learned that it was simply his way of expressing amusement, "Hardly. I was thoroughly entertained."
When your parents found out about your meeting with him, they made it clear that you would never see him again. Hector Dufour-Lapointé is what he calls himself but the real name behind this man was Hector Valliere who came from a village hidden in the west of Fontaine. Rumours said that he was chased out of his hometown by an angry mob, claiming him to be a madman conducting unethical experiments on humans. Shortly after his arrival in Sumeru, he abandoned his past identity and replaced it with a new one in order to enter the academy under legal supervision. Associating with a man of a suspicious reputation would only cause harm to your family's name. Though you could barely care much about their reputation. There was nothing for you to benefit from it.
Few weeks have passed and you evetually gave up on the thought of hearing from Hector. They were only fleeting moments, nothing more. Your routine would stay the same as you kept on plucking more books off the shelves, killing whatever time you had. However the activities you used to enjoy somehow lost it's flair and there would be a slight pain in your chest whenever you turn to a page with the princess as she is surrounded by her friends. What exactly changed? Your family still treated you the same. Did you suddenly grow bored from doing the same thing everyday? Why is it that you feel much more lonelier despite being alone for so long? It was hard to tell in a singular perspective. If only there was someone here to give you some insights on things you couldn't see…
A silver bird lands by your front window and you nearly fell out of your chair as it flapped their wings violently. A machine?! They dropped what seems to be an envelope within the thick bushes before taking off and buzzing into the evening sky. You switched off the lock and lifted the glass within a single movement, snatching the piece of paper so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. Hastily you opened it. Both curious and cautious of why would anyone send you mail in such a discreet approach.
Chère Mademoiselle (Y/n),
I can only imagine the shock of your expression once reading this letter. I'm only writing to you since I assume that your father had already told you those nasty rumours about my past. No matter. I trust that you have a good head on your shoulders to not prejudge people using such miniscule details. I wish to speak with you again. Unless you have other plans staying in that stuffy room of yours, meet me behind the clock tower at 11:00 p.m. Don't be late.
Bien à vous,
H.
"It really is him!" The happiness spreads all across your features as you clutched the letter to your chest. For some reason, your heart wouldn't stop racing. It was a simple yet thoughful action on his part but despite how short his greeting was, every word held the weight of a thousand sparks, "I…I can't stop smiling."
And without hesitation, you prepared to leave. No one noticed your absence.
-------
It was only halfway where you realized that Hector didn't give many details redgarding why he planned this sudden event. You caught sight of him standing under the roofs with his hands hidden behind his back. He had on his signature lopsided grin, brows uneven as he glanced at you casually.
"How very punctual, were you so eager that you couldn't wait?" He teases.
"I was surprised when your bird knocked upon my window," you inform, "Is it something urgent?"
"Not at all. I merely wanted to catch up with old times," Hector tilts forward to emphasize his suggestion, "Care to indulge me for a bit?"
You crossed your arms, "Then what is it that you're hiding behind your back?"
"Hmm?" He hums, "You mean this?"
"Ah!"
Roses. A bouquet of bright red flowers were presented to you, nicely wrapped in fabric. In the language of Fontaine, recieving them could mean multiple of things and you couldn't help but feel hesitant despite his thoughtful gesture, "Why are you giving me this?"
"Is it so wrong for me to be a gentleman? I thought it would be best to prepare you a gift after you put all that effort to come out in such a late hour," Hector mused to himself, "Especially when you had to make sure no prying eyes would catch us."
You let out a small laugh before accepting the bouquet, "I wouldn't go as far to say that."
"Oh?" Although it was hard to see, Hector managed to catch a glimpse of your flushed cheeks hidden behind the flowers. A darken smirk climbs onto his face at the inviting thought of what it could mean, "Tell me more."
The whole night you both spent walking around the empty plaza with only the stars as your guide. They paved a silver path reflected in the horizon above, free flowing like one of the many watercolour paintings hung in your chambers, uncertain where they may lead but you followed them regardless. If it weren't for Hector's inivtation you might have never known about the parts of your city due to the restricted lifestyle you lived. He listened to every one of them. The stories you had to tell when there was no one for you to talk to and the complaints about your brother whenever he wanted to snitch on your actions just to get the praise out of your father. You expressed your frustrations when speaking about your incompetences, joy after reading a good fairytale book written by your favourite author, there was so much to say that you were worried if Hector soon grew tired from them.
"Go on. I'm listening."
And your heart flutters again. Suddenly everything felt so light with each step you took, it was as if you walked across the stars in the sky rather than the heavy pavement of the ground you called your home. But even if happiness was a bliss, it tormented you. Because companionship made you realize how poor your were all along. That you had everything yet you had nothing, slowly withering away like the roses you held in your hand. Convinced that your existence was worth nothing more than nothing itself. Doomed to be dismissed and forgotten. Rotting away...Hector stays by your side as you cried softly into the night.
From a distance the bell rings and echoes just like the time before during Fontaine's grand ball. Hector shows you a secret route so that no one could find you.
"Will you write to me again?"
The request was so innocent, purely from genuine intentions and devoided of anything he had in mind. Hector would always laugh in these situations when things have gone unexpectedly yet pleasingly his way but held back knowing that it would be foolish to waste such a priceless opportunity. And so he gave you his smile, one full of secrets where you had mistakened it as a promise, "Of course my dear."
Every night you could no longer fall asleep since he had occupied your thoughts completely. Sometimes you'd dream of him and their tales would unfold similarly to the ones you have read. It gone to the point where the maids would have to wake you up during late afternoons due to the dramatic change in your sleep schedule. Though, you didn't care what they did to you. As long as no one found out about your secret rendezvous.
You never thought that there'd be a day where you would voluntarily give up reading your beloved fairytales. They were now replaced by a stash of his letters that have been accumulated over the past few months. You read them each day, pacing back and forth within the walls of your room, whispering his sentences as if he were the one saying them to you. He made you feel special. You were addicted to this feeling. Eventually you managed to memorize his words by heart. 
The pages of your diary were filled with notes. Like your very own  fairytale carved into reality. From the rose petal, now dried, to the hairpin he snatched from a distracted merchant and a single strand of his hair you found within your cloak after a warm embrace, all of these items, a remnant of the man you loved were taped up in these pages. Sometimes you could even feel his prescence because it was all you needed. It didn't matter if Clement threw insults about how worthless your existence was, your parents could lock you in this prison if they wanted to but they shall never take away Hector from you. Never. You swear it. He was your whole world and the prince who saved you from a life made of aching emptiness. You would do anything to keep him by your side. Anything to gain his affection.
Anything.
"I had a feeling that you were the culprit dear sister."
Your arms stutters as they clutched tightly on the scrolls you took off from the shelves. The light crept into the room like arms reaching out to clutch around your ankles, warning you for trespassing. You turned around dreadfully to see Clement pressing his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms folded and a wicked expression aimed at your pitiful state.
"Why…Why are you still awake?" You say in disbelief, "I thought everyone was asleep."
"Please. Not only are you shameless but hypocritical as well. You truly are a dissapointment to our family."
"Wait," taking a step forward, you stopped him before he makes his exit, "I'll put them back. Just don't tell father about this."
But like your parents, your brother was unkind. Clement doubles over and hugs his torso, cackling through his teeth, "Is that how it is?" He swipes his arm up and you see a parchment paper held between his fingers. 
"No!"
"Ma chérie (Y/n). I must say all this tenacious effort of sneaking in my letters to your window is becoming more and more tiresome. But of course, you are an exception. I want the scrolls you've mentioned the other day at my lair tomorrow evening. Make sure no one discovers this. I'm counting on you. Cordialement! Hector."
"No…" you whispered, feeling the weight of the world fall upon your shoulders as it shattered apart. Hector. If possible, you hoped that the pieces could just crush you right then and there. Your knees felt weak and a fright takes over but despite your turmoil, Clement didn't show a shred of sympathy.
"So this is why you've been acting odd lately. Pathetic," he flaps the paper tauntingly in his grasp, "I can't decide if I should be impressed or baffled by your actions. A secret romance with a criminal and the bloodline of Fontaine's most respected government associates? Even though you've hit rock bottom, you still decided to dig deeper."
"Clement you don't understand!"  Stumbling upon your footsteps, you desperately tried to convey your predicament even if it meant feeding his ego, "Hector is not the man you think. He was shunned by the people of his hometown, treating him as if he were nothing. They…They ignored him! All this time he needed someone to recognize his brilliance, someone to understand." Shakily, you brought your tensed arms to your chest and screamed a silent whisper, "Someone to listen but no one did. He must have felt so alone…"
Clement flinches when you suddenly clutched onto his biceps. When he looked into your eyes, a shiver ran down his spine.
"Hector is counting on me. I'm the only one who can save him. No one else. He needs me Clement, he needs me!" 
"Tch."
An ear-splitting scream of his hand against your face echoes across the room. It knocked you out of your stance and you bumped into the table, grunting while the scrolls to tumbled to the floor.
"Crazy woman, I'm embarassed to be related to you!"
While you were still trying to regain your balance, your brother had already ran off. It wouldn't be long before he alerted your parents, the clock ticking away like sand until the final hour leaves you with nothing but an empty glass. 
"No," despair swallows the strength away from your legs and you crawled towards where he used to stand, "Don't take him away from me…I need him…"
I can't live without him.
I can't live without him.
I can't live without him.
Tears begin to form by the corners of your eyes as you clenched your teeth. This was no time to cry. Balling your fists, you sprinted out of the room, pushing whatever stood in your way as if you were running for your life. 
And if you considered everything else, it wasn't that far from the truth.
-------
"Hector! Hector are you there?" After arriving upon his house, you began knocking on his door aggressively. The lock clicks and you were greeted by an evidently annoyed man gnawing his teeth together.
"Tsk. There better be a good reason-"
"They're coming for us! We have to go. Now. Before it's too late. My father is probably already waking and making arrangements for you to-"
"Enough, I can't even catch what you're saying," He pinches the bridge of his nose while you were still stuck in a frenzy state. He takes a step back and opens the door wider, gesturing for you to come inside, "Get in already. I have a feeling that this will be a long night."
Hector observes intently at the words you tell him.
Not out of concern but akin to the way he watches the insects react when he exposes them to a different environment.
He was a scientist after all. A madman in which you deliberately fell in love with, so much to the point that he was able to feel pity for once. How you trusted him wholeheartedly with all of your vulnerabilities, emotions and secrets like handing him your parts just so he could put you back together again. Tinkering was always one of his favourite hobbies and he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride at the thought of you being completely wrapped around his finger. 
Perhaps that was the reason why he loved you. Because he didn't love you. He loved you in parts.
"It was only a matter of time," Hector sighs. He sneaks his grasp into yours, knowing how much it affects you and puts on an invisible mask of deciet, "I already knew this day would happen long before anyone could have predicted it."
"You did?" With worried eyes you gazed at him, "What shall we do then?"
Knowing he hit the target, his lips begin to curl up towards his ears, showing his sharp white teeth that shone against the dim-litted room. Hector asks, "Do you love me?"
A silly question. You didn't hesitate to answer, "Of course I do. I've said it many times."
"Prove it to me," Forcing his forehead against yours, Hector commands in a dangerously low tone, "Kill your brother and only then you can truly be mine."
Your brain sutters, trying to absorb what he had just said. Kill? As in to take a life? It sounded wrong. But...was it wrong if the life belonged to someone who ruined yours?
Dumbfoundedly, you glanced into the bloody orbs of your lover, his black pupils thinning into knives while burning in the hellfire of his true colours. Hector runs a hand from the scalp of your hair, down to your cheek before gingerly sliding his fingers at your jawline. He pulled you close and whispered into your ear.
"Are you scared?"
Ah, this wasn't about your feelings. This was about him and your future and there could be no future you without him by your side.
You let your eyelids drop and leaned into his touch, "I could never be scared of you Hector. Whether it is within my power or not, I will make sure no one gets in our way. I swear it."
"Good," he continues to have you feed on his affection, "I knew I could count on you."
-----------
The news of your brother's death filled every headline Fontain had to offer. He was driven off a cliff while making a trip towards Sumeru. No one survived. The remains were so crushed to the point that authorities had trouble identifying their bodies. The only explanation they could come up with by observing the leftover tracks was that the horse must have gone out of control and ended up dragging the carriage along with it.
Ha. Serves him right.
Food poisoning. The vial Hector made was very effective. You made sure to bury it away from your mansion.
With no other choice, you became your family's next heir. Hector notifies you that he would be away for several months to solidify a unique connection with a man hailing from Snezhnaya. You didn't think he would arrive at your doorsteps with so much authority. Fatui soldiers followed from behind as the staff paved a way for them to enter. Your father was clearly displeased by his outrageous approach but he knew he was in no place to deny.
"Upon the agreement between Fontaine and Snezhnaya, Lady (Y/n) will become Harbinger Il Dottore's wife," the Duke announces, "This news will be publicly announced at the end of October."
Dottore? Is that what he calls himself?
As if claiming his victory, Dottore shoots your father a devilish smile. You could feel the dining table shake when he kept pressing his fist against the smooth surface, begrudingly congratulating you both for the new engagement. Your mother bursted into tears.
Was it worth it?
You watched both of your parents mourn silently in their own manner. Perfectly knowing that you were the main cause. But you weren't able to feel any sadness because in the end, you now had everything you've ever wanted. 
The inheritance.
Their attention.
But most of all, him.
And when you were convinced that this was your happily ever after, that fairytales were not just beautiful lies for the sake of comfort, you didn't realize  you were already living a life made of beautiful lies conjured by your own mind for the sake of your own comfort. 
"You're nothing without me."
Dried and calloused hands squeezed around your throat as you flailed your legs against the soft fabric of the carpet floor. He encases you in a straddling position, enjoying the sight of your tortured and clenched face. Hector…no, Dottore hated it when you disobeyed him. He despised it when his creations don't work the way he wanted them to and he had no use for things that are broken.
"G-hka--k..-"
"How many times do I have to remind you to not use my birthname. Do those ears of you even function properly? Or must I fix them myself?"
You gasped for air when he relaxed his grip. Vision a blur, you coughed a few times before he pulls your arm so that you lay flushed against his chest.
"Don't forget who saved you dear (Y/n). Because of me you were able to escape that miserable life you've despised for years. I expect the utmost gratitude on your part at all times, it is only fair that I punish you for not meeting my requirements, don't you agree?" Dottore lifts his hand up to pinch your cheeks, pulling your head to stare at your eyes, "After all, there is no one else in this world who can put up with you…but me."
His words were poison in which you drank like a woman starved. It made you feel numb to the pain the more you drowned in their alluring scent, the taste was sweet, a remedy for the bitterness of reality where the man of your dreams was nothing but a cruel monster. You came to believe that the reason why he treated you so harshly was because he was scared of losing you. You were caught in the trap of what seemed to be love and devotion when truly, you were just a toy to be used at a means end. He breaks you and he puts you back together, over and over again, filling in between the cracks formed in your glass heart with the phrases you loved to hear. Just like how he filled the other holes of your life where no one else did. You called it kindness. He saw it as entertainment.
Most people pay attention to the flower's beauty but they never acknowledge the thorns hidden beneath it's blossom.  That is why they bleed. They get hurt. Though, you didn't mind shedding blood if it was for his sake.
Because you would do anything for him.
You would do anything to bring back the memories of Hector Dufour-Lapointé and save him from the Harbinger that ruined his life. Your life. It wasn't his fault. You knew you could change him to what he was before because you were in love with him, that he might still in there. Somewhere.
Right?
Please come back.
Time continues to flow like the tears of your dying heart despite yearning for it to turn at the past. Dottore already left the room a long time ago but you didn't. Raising your head away from your hands, you peered at the door in front of you, begging desperately through a chanting record of despondence. 
Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.
Images, they slipped through your fingers, slowly becoming more distant until your mind began to see them as illusions. Dreams. Things that were not real. Telling you that your life was a lie. 
"Come back to me…Hector."
Because the man you loved was withering in your memories and you couldn't do anything to save him.
A dry croak robbed you of your breath as you turned to look in the mirror.
Worthless. You were always worthless, it was what your parents told you since birth. It was what you became when he wasn't at your side because without him, your existence was worthless. You lied for him, you stole for him you, took a life for him. You destroyed yourself for him to point that it was hard to believe you were even looking at yourself.
Worthless. It's who I am.
And despite it all, you couldn't obtain his love.
(Crack).
Worthless things don’t deserved to be loved.
(Crack. Crack).
But what if it’s because I’m worthless, that he won’t love me back?
(Crack).
Your eyes jolted open, causing you to gasp sharply. When the sweet lies dispersed in your head and cleansed you of deceit, everything started to make sene. You came to realize why your wish was impossible all along.
Dottore...no, Hector, the reason wasn't because he didn't return your feelings. Neither was it due to the fact that he hurt you through his actions. Nor when he made you cry or scream for help before feeding you with more lies, thinking he would never hurt you again. It was none of those things.
It was because the man you loved this whole time was someone who could love no one but himself.
"Ha...haha," sucking in your breath, a sinister laugh escapes your mouth, "Hahahahahahaha.....!"
Everything was worthless.
You grabbed a nearby hairbrush and threw it at the mirror, watching yourself shatter into a million pieces.
There was only one thing left to do. 
------
"Ugh, where is it?!"
It was late into the night where every staff had gone to sleep. The Harbinger fumbles with his keys while standing at the door of his basement as he was too busy proceeding with his research rather than considering the thought of rest. Usually he acted upon them on his own will, performing various experiments for enjoyment. However, ever since the Snezhnayan court had requested him to look into the ancient arts of alchemy, Dottore was forced to carry it out before the deadline approached. Otherwise his position as Harbinger would be revoked.
"What a bunch of self-centered blockheads. Can't they understand that it take quality time to get quality results?"
Most of his important documents were stored on the otherside. Half of it came from his father-in-law's library. He had you to thank for that.
"Ah finally," he mutters, though still dissatisfied, "I should have a word with my butler for misplacing them."
Dottore shoves the key into the lock but instead of twisting the knob he noticed something strange. It was old and had yet to be fixed but somehow he didn't have any trouble adjusting his wrist. Then he saw there were a set of freshly made fingerprints upon the smooth metallic surface. However, the only person awake at this time would be him-
An intruder!
Dottore drops everything to the ground and yanks the door open. He skittered down the stone stairs while cursing under his breath. Using the delusion gifted by the Tsaritsa, the Harbinger activated his lazer-like pillars as he took advantage of their glow to light up the unlit room.
"What in the abyss...?!"
Except it wasn't dark.
"All of these scrolls, I recognize them," without sparing a single glance, you spoke nostalgically towards the bookshelves, "It brings me so much memories..."
Dottore clenches his teeth together as his eyes shone an angry red, you were holding a torch dangerously close to his hard-earned collection, "What do you think you're doing?!" He fumed, "Put that out, AT ONCE! Don't make me repeat myself!
"They're precious to you aren't they?" You finally shifted to face him, "More than me."
"What has gotten into you?" He was about to hurl at you until he saw your torch lowering, causing him to retreat. You were strangely noncholant and he couldn't help the feeling of disturbance. Accepting that he didn't have the upperhand, Dottore decided to use a different approach, "(Y/n)."
The sound of your name falls from his lips. You faltered.
"I'm sorry for what I have done. I know I was dishonourable to you, as your husband and lover, and that you didn't deserve to see me so aggressive. You have every right to express your anger, my dear. I was in the wrong."
It was only a mask. You knew it well. But seeing him with softened eyes and a tone so comforting, made you desperately wanting to run into his arms so he could wipe away your sorrows just like once upon a time. To live happily ever after.
Hector.
Dottore runs his fingers through his hairstrands in frustration and sighs, "However the Tsarista needed me to do something very important and I can't seem to fulfill her request no matter how hard I try. It angers me. If I don't finish this, there would be no place for us to stay."
"Hector..." you sniffled quietly. He looks so much like him right now.
"Can't you see I'm doing this for you?" He consoles, yet his weapons still remain, "I only intended to make you happy and there's nothing I won't do to achieve that. How about I show-"
"Enough."
Dottore froze upon your sudden command. He didn't sense a hint of subjugation and it seemed that you had perfect control of your emotions. How very inquisitive. Did you grow immune to the style of his voice? In such a short period of time? The facade he had on was now replaced with a growling animal-like expression. You looked at him dissapointedly. His Harbinger self returned. Hector was no more.
"Ha, you're the same as always. Even before the time you became a Harbinger. The same man that I fell in love with but it is me who will never be the same again," For a moment you averted your gaze as if trying hard to swallow your own words, "Remember when we first met at the balcony? That I told you my favourite books to read are fiction? I knew they weren't real but deep down, I wanted to believe in them anyways. And you know what? They did come true, to some degree..."
As the memories come flashing back, he defenselessly watches your expression contort from sadness to a calm contemplation and finally, enraged disgust, "But you only ever brought me pain and I'm sick of it!"
Swaying the torch to the side, Dottore flinches forward but he didn't dare to come close when your current state was unpredictable to him, "I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME," you wail, I just wanted to be loved, bringing a clawed hand against your forehead and trembling upon contact, "It's all that I ask for..."
Dottore narrowed his brows. Perhaps he may have gotten too far.
"But I know it's impossible. The world is a cruel place and there's no point in trying anymore. That is why I'm going to set us free."
"...What do you mean?"
You shut your eyes closed and tossed the flaming torch to the ground. A horrified expression takes over his features. It didn't take long for the fire to begin spreading amongst the room.
"NO!" Dottore yelled powerfully, he frantically darts his gaze at all directions as they continued to flicker and blend into his precious documents. You stood still and watched him grab the ones that were intact, savouring the most he could but they slip out of his arms every time he moved. Dottore glances behind him to see a rising cage of hellfire. Then he turns to you.
" 'Til death do us part!" you laughed maniacally.
The madman looked back with angry dismay, "You're out of your mind!"
Abandoning whatever he held in his hand, Dottore spins around towards the staircase. He covers his face with his sleeve and did whatever he could to prevent the fire from touching him. However, he accidentally stumbled on his footsteps and something fell off the heights, knocking him in the face. He grunts painfully.
"That will leave a scar," you smile while he clutches at his injury, "I can break you too.”
Just like how you broke me.
Knowing that you've managed to leave a mark of your existence on him in someway, you peacefully watched your lover wobble between the hell you created. But the hell you knew was not made of scorching heat and thundering flames. Hell was empty. Hell was a void. This feeling was far too gentle to be considered hell. If he can't return your love, then at least let these caging arms bask you in the warmth you’ve always desired.
Lifting your head, you looked towards the ceiling and closed your eyes.
Ah, this cannot be death.
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1kook · 4 years
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kissanime & foreplay
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this is part of my netflix & chill collection !
summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k
notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 
HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜
The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.
The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.
And of course, Doyeon.
Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.
Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.
The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.
So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.
Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.
However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.
He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?
Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.
Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.
It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.
Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.
You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.
Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.
After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.
He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.
“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.
You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.
You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?
With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”
You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”
He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.
You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.
Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.
Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.
“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.
You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.
“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”
By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.
Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.
You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.
You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.
“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”
At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.
“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.
You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”
Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”
“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”
The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”
His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”
Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”
“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.
His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.
The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.
Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.
“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”
A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.
With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.
Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.
He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”
“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.
The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.
The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.
A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.
You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.
There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?
A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.
His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.
You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”
Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”
“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.
The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.
Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.
As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.
The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.
“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.
“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.
Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.
“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.
There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”
“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“
A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”
His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”
You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.
It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.
The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.
The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”
Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.
“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.
Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”
You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.
“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.
When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.
He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.
Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.
“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.
He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.
Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.
The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.
“Kook,” you whine childishly.
Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.
But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.
From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“
He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”
You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“
“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”
The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.
For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”
Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.
“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.
It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).
But, this moment…
The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.
It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.
Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.
It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.
He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.
“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.
Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.
You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”
He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”
You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”
He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”
With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”
His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”
You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”
Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”
You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.
Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”
“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”
“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.
He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”
You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.
“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”
“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”
“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.
epilogue 
Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)
summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.
trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 
"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.
and that was the start of your downfall.
-
you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.
whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.
though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.
but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.
but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.
but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.
someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.
you were a realist, after all.
so off to college you went.
you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.
in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.
you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.
and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.
but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.
you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.
and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.
in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.
and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.
so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.
after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.
and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.
your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.
and so your music journey began.
it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.
and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 
you felt good. 
but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 
you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 
and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 
but then it didn’t anymore. 
your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 
but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.
you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 
you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 
there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 
this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 
to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 
it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 
not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 
basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 
but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 
but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 
hence the apology. 
and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.
they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 
and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 
you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 
“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 
“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 
you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 
and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 
threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 
you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 
you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 
she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 
but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 
you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 
in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 
you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 
and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 
you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 
you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 
lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 
your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 
so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 
this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 
“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 
you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 
the camera cuts to another clip. 
the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.
 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 
the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 
you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 
you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 
the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 
your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.
you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 
the scene cuts again. 
you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 
you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 
that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 
the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 
now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 
the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 
it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 
you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 
the scene cuts again. 
this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 
your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 
you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.
your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 
“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 
the scene cuts again. 
“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 
“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 
it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 
and it cuts again. 
it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 
this was when you were still in college. 
it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 
it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 
but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 
your ex boyfriend’s grave. 
it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 
you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 
and it cuts again. 
“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 
“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 
“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 
“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 
“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”
“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 
“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 
the scene cuts there and goes into another. 
you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 
the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 
the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 
you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 
and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 
-
he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 
“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 
as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 
it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 
but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 
this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 
sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 
“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 
“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 
“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 
and were you watching? hell yes. 
and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 
he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 
and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 
you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 
as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 
you smiled, yet continued playing. 
“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 
you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 
“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 
george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 
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heliosthegriffin · 2 years
Text
One Man’s Crusade
AN: Just something to bide the time while, I get the next chapter of Class of One cleaned up.
----
Not all heroes are made in a day, not just anyone can pick up a sword and go to war, with the intent to do the right thing.
For others the process is slow, and it takes time to create a strong will, with a strong body to go with it. But, sometimes all it takes is one step in the right direction for a man to become a hero.
----
Jaune breathed hard as he inched forward, shield held high and sword at the ready.
His arms ached from holding the same position for so long, but he fought the urge to put them down.
Because, today is the day he killed a Grimm, or die trying.
He was tired of waiting around for someone to make his life better, to make him the man he wants to be.
It was spur of the moment decision, to go out beyond Vales walls and go hunting.
But, he was done with self-pity, he was done hating how weak he was, he was done crying over what he can’t do.
He was done being a wimp.
And today, he was going show himself he can be better, or he was going to die trying.
It had been surprisingly easy to leave Vale, just leave with a group of people and soon enough he was on his own in the Grimmlands.
He was scared, he wasn’t going to lie, in fact, he was scared enough to ruin his pants.
But, he didn’t let that stop him. He picked a direction and started walking, remembering to leave markings where he was, determined or not, if he lived he still needed to find his way to Vale again.
For over an hour he walked, keeping his shield up and makings marks with his sword, his arms burning harder and harder.
Jaune would have to admit, he was surprised so far at the lack of activity from the Grimm,
But, it made sense in a way, that the area’s closest to the city would be the most cleared, and it wasn’t like he was moving fast.
He was shuffling at best, and probably hadn’t even cleared a mile so far.
His fatigue was building though, and Jaune idly wondered if he should take a rest, but shook off the idea.
Even as the voice’s in the back of his minds were whispering that he was idiot, and that he was about to get himself killed.
That he should turn back now, while he still could turn back.
He ignored them, he didn’t have anything left to go back to, beside a dingey hotel room and ever dwindling lien.
The best he do is either go home and face his condescension of his family and let them dictate the rest of his life, or find some crummy job in Vale that he’d be miserable at like the crummy jobs he worked in Ansel.
And if he died out here today, the least he could do is take one crummy Grimm with him, and at least the world would be a very slightly better place... Right?
Jaune never saw it coming, didn’t even hear a growl, but he felt the pain. Oh gods above, he felt the pain.
It came out of the blue, the pain, he felt what must have been claws rake down his back, and he cried out.
It was unlike anything he had experience in his short life, he never broken a bone before, or gotten a serious cut. The most he could compare it to was when he twisted his ankle playing with his sisters, but this was completely different.
It felt like someone had set his back on fire in five jagged lines, his lungs going breathless in agony, Jaune fell forward on his knees, and nearly threw up.
If it wasn’t for a new little voice in the back of his head screaming, ‘Get up! Get the fuck up, or we are dead! What are you waiting for? Get the fuck up!’
Jaune rose off his knees, adrenaline pumping through his veins giving him new found strength that completely destroyed tiredness inside of him.
‘What do I? What do I?’ He thought to himself, freezing in place as the first real danger of his life happened. Then pain completely changing his thought process.
‘Do I fight, do I run, do I do I do, what do I do?!’ He got thrown back to the ground before he could figure out what do, and then screamed in agony as what felt like hundreds of teeth bit down over into his shoulder.
It burned! It hurt! It put the earlier pain into nothing, as he felt the strong jaws of the Grimm bite into him, pushing needle like teeth into him with bone breaking force.
Jaune screamed, it was almost inhuman, raw and animalistic, not the canned movie screams, but the true scream of humanoid being killed.
His weapons were useless, his armor was penetrated like paper, and he was going to die.
‘I don’t want to die!’ His mind, body, and soul all came to the same conclusion, as any bravado from earlier vanished, Jaune wanted to fucking live, anything was better than this!
His body acted on thousands of years of instinct that layed dormant for most his life, swinging his elbow into the Grimm’s belly, again and again using the unrestricted strength of the body to get it the fuck off!
And it did nothing, the Grimm’s claws sinking deeper into Jaune’s lower back and shoulders, as it’s jaws clamped tighter and tighter shut.
Then his being came to another conclusion. ‘I need to get the fuck off the ground!’
He couldn’t let the Grimm trap him, otherwise he’d never get it off of him.
But, one hand was trapped with his shield and the other held his sword.
Did he drop it? Or push off of it?
Drop the shield he realized, it would not help him now.
He untangled his hand from the shield handle, and keeping a grip of his sword, he pushed off the grounds, getting up to his knees, his body screaming the whole time.
The Grimm started to thrash, biting deeper, gouging the claws deeper into him.
Jaune turned his sword himself, and stabbed behind with both hands.
Hitting the belly of the Grimm.
Jaune smiled as he heard it yelp, as it felt the pain of having something stuck in it’s body.
Making contact he pushed with all his might into it, and twisted.
It did not have the desired affect, as it kept biting him, like as long as it could take him down, nothing else mattered.
Jaune breathed hard and pulled his sword back out, then stabbed again, and again.
Till the he must have cut a hole in it’s stomach. If it had one.
It was race now, to see who dropped first.
Jaune kept stabbing and it kept biting into him.
Minutes felt like an eternity as Jaune slowly whittled away at it’s flesh, and it kept sawing through him.
But, he would not give up! He felt a new pure strength shoot through him.
Then he felt the pressure lessen, the teeth being force out, and the claws losing hold on his body.
Then came a thump behind him.
Was this death?
No, it could not longer keep hold, and had fallen.
Plunging his sword down into the ground, Jaune looked behind to see a fading pitch black wolf like Grimm that had fallen off of him, it fading quickly into nothing.
Soon enough, there was no sign that it had been there at all, aside form the mauling it had given him.
Jaune frowned, and cautiously reached a hand to his back, it coming back wet with blood. He looked down at his chest, and could see several nail sized holes where the Grimm had bit him.
Though he dissed his armor earlier, he could see now it was the only thing that kept it from out right biting straight through him. If he didn’t wear it, he would be dead.
Then he fell to a knee, his strength leaving him.
“No, can’t rest now.” Jaune said, finding some leftover power to keep awake, a faint white glow surrounding him. “Should, dress my wounds?”
He looked at his shoulder, but became awed as he saw the flesh knit back together. “What? Is this what Huntsmen have?”
Confused Jaune touched his shoulder, and then hissed, as it came back tender.
He shook his head. “I’ll figure it out later, I should go back to Vale.”
He grabbed his weapons and then booked it back to Vale, any healing could be figured out later.
He had done enough stupidity for one day.
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