#better to try to live on his own terms than bow to that fucking angel for one more second
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Honestly manga Midvalley and trigun 98 Midvalley are basically two different characters
Yea I wanna punch manga Midvalley constantly, but I also find him interesting & a compelling character. The times I've seen 98 Midvalley he just looks so sleazy lmao it makes me REALLY wanna punch him
Tough choices
#speculation nation#thinking about how i have midvalley with a significant role in my fic#& hes currently the character with the most scenes aside from vash bc of it#i have him based Solely on the manga characterization. bc i like him in the manga actually#but then i see 98 midvalley mostly acting as an accessory to Legato's murder sprees via sax solos#& it's like. where's the Realism? the Grumpiness! the utter hatred of his circumstances & fear of the higher powers?!?!?!#manga Midvalley is FASCINATING to me bc he's just like Wolfwood in a way.#caught between these two insane angels' brotherly dispute & hating EVERY second of it#but while Wolfwood rolls with the situation quite well (in large part bc he ends up aligned with Vash & we all know hes a sweetheart)#Midvalley decides he cant handle this anymore and rebels even though he knows it will crash and burn#better to try to live on his own terms than bow to that fucking angel for one more second#even though he knows it will probably kill him. and then it does.#that's fascinating to me!!!! but 98 midvalley feels so 90s anime villain hdkshfjdn#and i just Cant believe they gave him bitches. Midvalley??? with Women??? oh come on just look at him#that man's the kind of gay that refuses to flirt and then wonders why he doesnt get any action#he thinks he's BETTER than dating apps. and then he privately bemoans how alone he is#that or he just doesnt care about romance or sex at All. i could see that too lmfao#bottom line is. Midvalley does not get bitches. he DOESNT. thats just my humble opinion at least.#wow this turned into a ramble. may or may not be prompted by me writing him again. i just have many thoughts about him#trigun spoilers/
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Hi!! My fiancé of nearly 4 years cheated on me and I have two kids with him. I’m in need of comfort. Could you possibly write something with Eddie telling reader that she’s enough for him and he’ll never do that to her?
This has become top of my priority list instantly.
You are BEAUTIFUL, you are ENOUGH, and it was HIS loss. I am so, so sorry babe. I'm positive that you're perfect and your kids are lucky to have such an amazing mother. I know, because I have two LOs too.
Enough ♡ E.M. x Fem Reader
Summary: Eddie's one and only beloved needs some reassurance. He's more than happy to give her just that.
CW: soft!Eddie, nervous!reader, established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, ramblings, just so much fluff, lil blurb
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You were seated on the old, well-loved couch in Eddie's trailer with a stooped posture, your elbows resting on your thighs, your right leg bouncing up and down involuntarily, as you stared off into space in the dimly lit living room, worry, concern, and anxiety aching deep in your chest as negative thoughts flooded your brain.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Despite being in a long term, loving relationship with Eddie, it was always hard for you to not fear the worst while in a committed relationship.
You took deep, shaky breaths, battling with yourself in your mind, trying to convince yourself anything but the worst.
He loves me, I'm happy, so why do I feel like this, why do I always have to feel so scared-
Eddie interrupted your thoughts as he opened the bathroom door, finished with his shower, smiling ear to ear as he headed towards the living room.
"Hello, my sweet angel, I'm all done, ready to watch that movie now? I'm so excited we finally get to watch Beetlejuice, I heard it's hilarious-"
He stopped dead in his tracks, his smile fading from his face and a look of concern replacing it at the distressed sight of you.
He quickly hurried towards you, sitting on the couch and placing a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft.
"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay, did something happen?"
You shook your head, pushing your hair back from your forehead, giving him a strained smile.
"No, no, nothing happened," you stammered, a shake in your voice, "I'm okay, really, I just-"
You sighed, clasping your hands, sweating with nerves as you bowed your head, eyebrows knitted together.
"Hey, look at me," Eddie held a hand to the side of your face, turning it towards him, gazing at you with a sad, half smile.
You pursed your lips, then glanced at him, shifting your body to face him, crossing your ankles together to sit directly in front of him, Eddie doing the same.
He took both of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers, his soft, understanding eyes looking into your own.
"Tell me what's going on." He insisted, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.
You stayed silent for a moment, swallowing hard as you struggled to find the words.
"Go on," he insisted kindly, "tell me everything that's on your mind. I won't talk until you're finished speaking. You have my full attention."
"Thank you." You mumbled, grateful for his support.
"Whenever you're ready." Eddie nodded.
"Well," you began to explain, "it's just that, sometimes I feel scared, you know? Like... I just have this anxiety that's eating away at me. And I know you've reassured me about this so many times, so I'm sorry. I'm just terrified. I'm terrified that you'll leave me, find someone else better than me, prettier than me, smarter than me, you know? I just don't wanna get hurt again, like I did in my last relationship. I just wanna be enough for you. I'm just scared, Eddie," you looked into his eyes tearfully, "I'm just so fucking scared."
You finished your rambling with a shaky exhale, worried that you were annoying him, that maybe he thought you were overbearing, or having second thoughts about you. You glanced at him, your heart loudly beating against your chest as you waited for his response in nervous anticipation.
Eddie softly smiled at you, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead gingerly before speaking.
"Babe, you have every right to feel the way you do." He assured you quietly.
You perked up, confusion on your face.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really," he insisted, "the last guy you were with is a total piece of shit. He made you feel so bad about yourself, so it's understandable that you have these feelings."
Eddie let go of one of your hands, brushing your hair behind your ear, and let out a breathy chuckle.
"But, as I've told you before," he reminded, a grin on his face, "you are absolutely perfect, the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Shit, I can't believe I was able to woo a girl like you! Sweetheart, I can assure you, I would never hurt you. I would never find better than you, because you are the better. You're the best. No one can compete with you. You're more than enough. You're so damn beautiful, inside and out. You make me laugh everyday. You're so god damn smart, you're always so nice, you've put up with all my shitty antics, you've been through hell and back with me- fuck, I'm just rambling now, but the point is; I would never leave you, I would never cheat on you, and I love you more than anything in the world. I know I can be pretty stupid, but I'm not stupid enough to ever do something that would make me lose the best thing that's ever happened to me. And if I have to reassure you that, every second of every day, I'm more than happy to do so, as long as I get to be with you... okay?"
You beamed at him, tears glossing over your eyes, your nerves disappearing and being replaced with joy, love, adoration- every happy emotion that exists, you were feeling it. And it was all because of Eddie.
"Okay?" He repeated himself, squeezing your hands earnestly.
"Okay." You nodded, letting go of his grasp on you and quickly lunging towards him, hugging him tightly, giggling with relief.
Eddie hugged you back, embracing you into his chest as close as possible, your hair tickling his nose, him chuckling against your neck and kissing you all over the side of your face for what seemed to be a hundred times.
"I love you, Eddie," you whispered into his hair, still squeezing him, "thank you."
"I love you more, angel, queen of my life, woman of my dreams," he exclaimed, "but never, ever thank me for that. Deal?"
You let go of him, leaning back, now sitting in his lap.
"Deal."
"So," Eddie started, "how's about that movie?"
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fluff#stranger things fic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#eddie the banished#fluff#hurt/comfort#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagines
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Brothers Conflict || 01.
Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.
Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?
◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (They are all adopted, I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)
◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (final pairing: will be decided by readers, could also be ot7) (reverse harem)
◈ CHAPTER ONE
WC: 2585
Warnings: Curse Words (sfw)
Masterlist (all available chapter links are here)
Taglist
Your eyes take in the humongous structure in front of you, and you try your best to not look too awestruck. You aren't sure how well that works out, considering you can hear your best friend muffling her laugh beside you, but you don't bother to turn and check.
'Pretty sure this isn't the last time this is going to happen either.' You think, as you bite your lower lip and wipe your sweaty hands over the denim of your jeans.
"Girl, you scored a jackpot." Sunmi teases, her angelic yet somehow demonic at the same time, giggle following close after.
You, in response side eye her and choose not to reply. What would you even say? Depending on who answers, the reply would differ anyways.
Though you still aren't sure what your answer would be.
Till a week ago you were just a 20-year-old university student, who while technically was said to be living with her father, at the end of the day virtually lived alone.
Your father is a famous adventurer. You don't know what that term entails precisely, but too scared of the possible connotations that it might bring forth, you avoid letting your curiosity run too deep.
You think some part of it involves climbing and hiking mountains though.
Has to be.
"Are we seriously going to stand here like a bunch of creepy fangirls all day? Woman, that is your home now. Move it before I do it for you!" Sunmi grumbles before she locks her arm with yours and then proceeds to forcibly, drag you across the driveway.
"Wait! Sun stop! Ohmygod, Will you stop you crazy banshee?"
Sunmi, in all her eccentric glory, does not. Instead, she turns, gives you a non-pulsed look and then continues to drag you over against your will, her silky, long, black hair billowing behind her like a cape and hitting you in the face.
Of course.
You try to dig the heels of your converse into the pavement below, but it's smooth and cemented, and you almost trip and break your jaw, before you decide that it is simply not worth it and allow her to drag you against your will.
"This is an insanely long driveway, for fucks' sake, why would anyone need such a long driveway anyway?"
You let out a snort when you hear her say that and let your eyes take in the view as you reply, "It's a rich people thing, you peasant."
The answering elbow that digs deep into your ribs is totally worth it, you decide.
The cool breeze feels heavenly, and you sigh as you feel it between your strands and over your heated scalp. The area that surrounds the large sprawling five-storey mansion in front of you is lined with trees. Tall hills coloured green by vegetation, with their tips shrouded between clouds, form the backdrop.
There is also a fancy, intricate water fountain that you think is made of white marble? Or some sort of white stone maybe? In the middle of the driveway.
‘Expensive,’ You decide and glance around.
The driveway itself spreads all across the front of the mansion, forking and getting divided into two separate pathways a little further away from the building. Between the divided paths is where the fountain is, it's base surrounded by a kaleidoscope of pretty, bright flowers.
At the call of a bird, your gaze snaps up, and you see as a couple of graceful, little, birds fly over and pass you by. Their chirping fills the quietness of the atmosphere, with a pleasant, dulcet ring.
If nothing else, at least the place is beautiful.
You stop when Sunmi rings the doorbell and scoot a few inches behind her.
'I am not trying to hide, I'm just strategically camouflaging.' You think to yourself, but you know you're lying.
Sunmi apparently does too, as no sooner had you scooted back, that she yanks you ahead of her. You wince when you feel your muscles protest, and aim a glare at her.
"I hope you realise that if you dislocate my shoulder, you will have to assist me until it heals back."
Sunmi gives you a look before she quips back, "Why would I? I hope you realise that you now have seven ridiculously good looking brothers to take care of you instead."
At your disgusted expression, she wiggles her eyebrows and of course because the world is never at your side you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
A part of you dies inside when you realise that someone probably overheard what your stupid, loudmouth of a best friend had just said.
Add a mental note to punch Sunmi at the earliest.
You are snapped back out of your thoughts when you feel her pinch your stomach and you yelp as you twist back to face the door, only to stop dead in your tracks.
There holding the door open and standing at the threshold looking like a Greek god, was Kim Seokjin, who if you remember your information right was the oldest brother. Now your stepbrother.
He smiles when he sees your startled expression and bows.
"Ah, yes we have been waiting for you Y/N. I am Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin-oppa if you'd prefer that."
Startled, your face breaks out into colour when you hear that, and your voice comes out broken as you say, "O-op-Oppa?"
You don't know if he doesn't hear you or if he's just ignoring you, but the next second he's bowing and introducing himself to your best friend. Sunmi, of course, preens under the attention as she does the same and somewhere in the back of your mind, you snort at how much of an attention whore your best friend is.
Once they are both done, he turns to you and his smile widens as he holds the door open, as if indicating for you to move in. Your eyes fall to his smile and thus to his lips, and all you can think about is how his lips are better than yours.
‘Why does he need such full lips anyway?’ You think jealous, and more than a little self conscious.
Sunmi, however, takes the hint and tugs on your hand again, stepping in first.
You trail a few inches behind her taking in the interior of the house, only to jump when you feel someones’ hand at the back of your waist.
You spin on your heels and pause as you realise that you are now an inch, away from Seokjins very wide, very built chest. The smooth, pale skin of his torso, glimpses back at you from in between the deep V-neck of his button-down shirt, and you feel a blush rising from deep above your own chest, as you realise the close proximity.
The feel of his hand that is still, on your waist doesn't help either.
However, before you can ponder on too much, over the utter perfection that are your eldest step brothers shoulders, and then promptly be horrified at that following train of thought, you are walking again.
Sunmi apparently had not caught onto your little pause, as she continues to tug you across the room.
Stumbling, you try not to trip face-first onto the floor. Your eyes widen, and your face burns when you feel the hand that was till now placed lightly over your waist, grip your side, before twisting you forward and then moving away.
A second later, your brother lightly brushes your shoulder with his as he moves forward and directs you and Sunmi to where everyone else is apparently waiting for you.
You blink as you try to wrap your head around what had just transpired.
You think he was just trying to help you but is gripping your stepsister's waist seconds after meeting her for the first time an acceptable form of action?
Out of your depth, and baffled at his actions, you just follow along behind Sunmi, as you try to get your thoughts straight and your raging blush under control.
Deep breaths Y/N, in and out, there we go.
Once your cheeks no longer feel like they are trying to light themselves on fire, you raise your head and glance around.
The interior was just as grand as you had expected it to be. The walls tall and glassed, let in the sunshine from outside and created a bright, warm ambience. There were potted plants, placed around every few steps, and you wonder if they are real or fake. There's an undertone fragrance of jasmine in the air that makes you think that maybe the plants are real.
The ceiling is high and most of the interior white, or metallic. Lights hung from the ceiling in designer, metal frames and there were white leather couches spread around along with a few showpieces.
The uniformity of the interior is only interrupted by the vast array of paintings around you. There were paintings scattered all across the walls, some hung higher than the others,. You try to see if there is a pattern or not as you pass a few by and look closer, but quickly give up when you realise they are pieces of modern art.
Yep, too dumb for that.
You let that train of thought go as you force yourself to stop suddenly to avoid smashing headfirst into your best friends back. Looking ahead, you realise that you are now standing in front of an elevator. You clench your jaw to prevent it from unhinging to the ground and instead glance at Sunmi, to see if she is as gobsmacked as you are.
Your best friend, apparently somewhere on the way had taken her cellphone out and was now aggressively hitting the screen as she tries to text back with one hand, the other one still firmly locked with yours.
Apparently not then.
Your jaw still clenched, you look up to see the capsule-like glass-walled lift come down to your floor. It stops with a soft 'ding', and you follow behind Seokjin, for once tugging Sunmi instead of the other way around.
It's when you are inside the lift ascending to some floor above, that you realise your predicament. Sandwiched between Seokjin on one side and Sunmi on the other, you try not to fidget as you feel your stepbrothers shoulder brush with yours, as he leans back against the wall beside you. The lift is spacious, and you don’t understand why you all are standing so close, but you don’t say anything or move.
Trying your best to not seem rude, you just bite your lips and look down at your feet, rocking back on your heels, as you tug the lace of one of your converse with the other.
The ride up is quiet with only the low, generic elevator music ringing in the background.
'This is awkward, should I say something? I should probably say something.'
That's when you realise that you hadn't introduced yourself, nor said a single coherent word since Seokjin had opened the door for you.
The thought sends you tumbling down another self-induced shame spiral.
As if that wasn't bad enough, you think back to just what, he had heard when he had opened the door, and you decide maybe not saying anything would be a wiser course of action. Least you open your mouth and embarrass yourself further.
Realising the potential harm of using your vocal cords, you stay quiet and instead take the time to really look at your eldest stepbrother. Or is it just brother now?
Would it be rude if I referred to them as my stepbrothers? Is the thought that your mind brings forward and you bite your lip as you think of how you should proceed ahead.
As you look at your brother from the corner of your eyes, your breath hitches when you realise just how good looking he is. The picture that your father had shown you clearly did not do him justice.
His luscious, black hair, is gelled back to keep it off his forehead and his ridiculously thick eyelashes are long and slightly curled at the end, framing his almond-like eyes.
As your gaze trails down his side profile, you gulp when you realise that while he looks like a classic movie-star with his thick, high arched eyebrows, you probably look like a haggard, homeless woman in contrast.
The thought doesn't quite sit well with you, and you let out a quiet huff in annoyance.
Apparently, you huff wasn't as quiet though because not a second later, you feel Seokjin nudge your side and your gaze snaps up to look at him—his brows raised and a look of concern plastered over his face.
Your lips part, as you think to reply but when no words come out, you snap them shut, pulling on a tight smile instead and just shake your head to assure him that you are fine.
The unconvinced, concerned look on his face stays, but thankfully he doesn't pry and leaves you to your own devices, with a soft reassuring, squeeze to your hand.
You, however, because are socially awkward and love to embarrass yourself, proceed to let out a yelp as you flinch away from his touch and crash into Sunmi's side.
"Jesus ouch! Y/N are you okay? Did you see a spider or something?" Sunmi asks concerned, as she slips her phone back into her pocket and pulls you to her side, wrapping an arm around your waist. Beyond mortified, you just shake your head and curl yourself around her body, seeking the familiar warmth and comfort of your best friend.
You don’t turn to look what the expression on Seokjins’ face is.
'This day couldn't get any worse.' You think now utterly embarrassed and push your head into the side of Sunmi's neck, and hope that the world crashes so that you don't have to look into your stepbrother's eyes again.
'He probably thinks you're a psycho.' Your brain adds, and you internally groan and snuggle into your best friend more, the increasingly familiar blush overtaking your face again.
Earlier, you think you might have jinxed yourself. Because no sooner, had the doors of the lift opened, and you had stepped out, that you tripped and fell face-first onto the floor.
Smooth.
Thankfully the floor was covered with a soft plush carpet, and soon your best friend was by your side, her concerned voice ringing in your ears, which was then followed by Seokjins’ as his crouched figure comes into your peripheral vision.
You would be more embarrassed, but you are pretty sure he already thinks you are deranged, so you just take this one in stride and raise your face to look up and reassure them both that you are alright.
However, the scene that greets your eyes is a little different.
Standing there in front of your fallen form, faces ranging from curious to concerned are six more men.
Six more men that you realise, are the rest of your stepbrothers.
The realisation hits you like a bucket full of ice water being poured down your back, and you hold back a frustrated scream, as the absolute ridiculousness of the day catches up with you.
But instead of shrieking, you just groan and let your raised face fall back onto the carpet.
Carpet fur in your mouth and mushed against your face, you realise that no, your day could and just did get a lot worse.
A/N: ETMY is still my priority, but I write wayy too much angst so here’s a light hearted, fluffy, crack fic to balance my masterlist. Lemme know your thoughts, and remember the final pairing will be decided by you, there won’t be any vote but I’ll keep a track of who is being favoured. OT7 can also be the future pairing, if you guys so choose.
Thanks for reading and have a pleasant day ahead!
#networkbangtan#btswritingcafe#btsghostie#bangtanidx#ficswithluv#bangtanscenery#btsgoldnet#goldenclosetnet#btswriterscollective#btsbookclub#bangtanhq#thebtswritersclub#vantaenet#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#btsfanfic#bts scenarios#bts fic#bts fluff#bts poly au#bts poly fic#bts poly relationships#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#taehyung fluff#taehyung fanfic#jimin fanfic#hoseok fanfic#namjoon fanfic#ditttiii writes
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Champagne and Jenga. Is there a better way to start the new year?
hi, i’m back. i apologize for the little delay for this upload, but after the shitshow that was yesterday afternoon in the US, i just felt like i needed to take a tiny little breather before i could concentrate on getting this posted for you guys. i feel a little calmer now so, 24 hours later, here it is.
now onto the actual intro - this idea is so random, but i just really wanted to do a soft new years eve night in with yoon and i knew that months ago so i’m excited to finally put it out. i hope you all like it <3
tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy
genre: fluff
word count: 2.0k
The once subtle pitter-patter of your heart seemed to steadily ramp up at the familiar noise sounding from your door, the sequence of knocks belonging to none other than Min Yoongi.
Without even having to peek through the peephole, you knew it was him. You knew by the same signature four bumps of his knuckles against the wood; the typical three and then an extra knock in case you had your headphones in.
You should’ve been embarrassed about the way you nearly tripped over your own foot in your haste to get to the door, but you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Instead, you only focused on wrapping your fingers around the knob and yanking the barrier open, feeling your soul warm at the cuddly man revealed to you.
His soft skin glowed underneath the lights in the hallway of your apartment building, sleepy eyes blinking back at you with soft black hair hovering above them, a white mask tucked under his chin, one of his many soft gray crewnecks laid over his chest, and a black overnight bag thrown over his shoulder.
In the middle of your routine process of scanning over his body, your eyes widened at the bottle in his hand, the signature gold foil cluing you into what was inside of it.
“You brought champagne?” You asked excitedly, Yoongi chuckling at your lack of greeting as your eyes dragged up from the bottle to meet his own.
“Good evening.” He returned with a smirk, you rolling your eyes at him before grabbing onto his unoccupied hand, tugging him inside your doorway and wrapping your arms around him in a proper hug hello.
“Hi.” You breathed out into his chest, resting your cheek against his shirt as his hands landed on your back, rubbing his palm up and down your spine as he turned his head to the side, resting his cheek atop your head and breathing out a relaxed exhale.
“Hi.” He breathed, his lips curling into a soft smile at the comforting way you held him, the tension in his muscles easing at your touch.
Pulling away only slightly, you leaned into his pout, Yoongi’s hand raising to support your jaw as his soft lips met yours.
“Thanks for coming.” You smiled, the man raising his eyebrows at you teasingly as his dark brown eyes darted to the bottle in his hand, then back to you.
“Are you talking to me or the champagne?” He asked, raising a doubtful brow at you as you playfully bit your lip in thought.
“The champagne, of course.” You answered, smiling at the reward of one of your boyfriend’s deep chuckles as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Well, let me open it up for you then, angel.”
With a flush of heat to your cheeks at the pet name, you eagerly followed him as he led you into your kitchen, holding the bottle in an angled slant in front of his abdomen as he began peeling the foil off.
You watched in amusement at his concentrated facial features as he gripped the cork in one hand, the bottom of the bottle in the other. Twisting it to shimmy the cork out, a ‘pop’ resounded through the room, a triumphant grin on his face as he managed to successfully pop the champagne with no mishaps.
“Seriously, though, I can’t believe I successfully dragged you out of the studio for New Year’s.” You leaned on your hand as Yoongi poured the alcohol into the tall glasses you’d bought to “feel fancy,” as you had put it in the middle of a store you’d dragged Yoongi into a few months ago.
Yoongi’s smile softened at that, sliding your glass to you and leaning over the counter so that your faces were mere inches apart, elbows pressed to the counter as he cupped his face in his hands.
“I just have a hard time saying no to you, bub.” He shrugged, making you giggle as his hand reached out to grab your wrist, the other retrieving his drink as he began pulling you along with him into the living room, successfully plunking himself down onto your couch.
“Hm,” you squinted at him, “so there wasn’t just the tiniest part of you wanting to come drink champagne with me on the most romantic night of the year?” You asked, crossing your legs as you sat in front of him, knees grazing his as he copied your posture.
His features scrunched in both confusion and disgust at that, eyes squinted at you as you raised your eyebrows challengingly.
“This is the most romantic night of the year? Since when?” He asked doubtfully, you shrugging in response as he gently smiled at you.
“Since now.” You answered, Yoongi scoffing as he reached for your champagne flutes, handing you your own before lifting his into the air. The action prompted you to raise your glass as well, clinking them together as you stared at him knowingly.
The look you were giving him was a silent imploring for him to cave and address the idea in question in his toast.
“Alright, cheers to the most romantic night of the year, or whatever.” He gave in with a small smirk, the expression turning into a full-on grin when you giggled in response before raising your glass to your lips, taking a sip as Yoongi did the same.
“What time is it?” You asked after swallowing the liquid, Yoongi dutifully pulling out his phone to read the time aloud.
“10:45.” He stated, eyebrows raised in question when you smirked at him.
“What?” He inquired, a small smile lifting his lips at the contagious facial expression you wore. He didn’t know what you were smiling about, but, god, he knew he didn’t want you to stop.
“You’re early.” You explained, confusing him even more as his head tipped to the side adorably.
“I didn’t text you to come over until twenty minutes ago.” You smiled wider when Yoongi’s cheeks flushed, leaning forward to press a kiss to each spot beside his nose, him whining in complaint yet holding your jaw there as he leaned up to catch your lips with his.
Based on your calculations, it appeared that your boyfriend had fled the studio immediately upon getting that text from you.
“Aww, you wanted to see me?” You cooed at him, the man blushing immediately, both your tone and your loving gaze making him feel beyond flustered.
“I did, but that was before I knew I’d be getting assaulted when I arrived.” He muttered, his face contradicting his tone as the apples of his cheeks were beginning to hurt with the beam of teeth he was displaying.
“Hm, so you don’t like this?” You asked, cupping his face with your palms, smiling when he leaned into your touch, cheeks hot under your lips as you pressed them against his soft skin.
“Mm-mm.” He hummed negatively, trying to maintain his frown but failing as you kissed the corners of his mouth, pulling away with a grin when his head dipped forward to chase your mouth.
“Gotta stop playing so hard to get, Yoon.” You tutted your tongue at him, his gummy smile spreading wider at your teasing tone.
“Never.” He answered, leaning into you once again to press a soft pucker of his lips to your cupid's bow.
Gently, you swiped the pad of your thumb across his swollen bottom lip in return, his eyes sparkling up at you in the dim light of your living room.
“Well, if it’s almost 11,” you trailed off, Yoongi nodding to confirm the time, “what do you want to do until midnight?”
Yoongi pondered the thought for a moment, eyes traveling up to your ceiling in thought before shifting back down to you.
“Do you still have Jenga?” He asked, making you smile fondly at him as you prepared to stand up.
“I have Jenga.” You nodded in confirmation, both of you smiling as you got up off of the couch and walked to a closet in your hallway, pulling the game down successfully and holding it above your head upon entering the room.
“Are we actually playing Jenga?“ He chuckled when you placed the box down on the coffee table in front of the couch, getting a series of nods from you in response.
“Champagne and Jenga. Is there a better way to start the new year?” You grinned, Yoongi laughing before pulling you onto the couch with him, helping you unwrap the game’s contents and sort the blocks out on the little table.
Jenga had, somehow, become a classic activity throughout your relationship with Yoongi. Both of you were homebodies and both of you were kind of on the geriatric spectrum in terms of how outwardly social you were. It just worked.
“Alright, let’s do this.” You sat beside him again, thigh brushing his as he placed his feet on the floor to face the table.
“You think you can win against me?” He bumped his shoulder against yours, raising his eyebrows in amusement when you scoffed in reply, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt to show you meant business.
“In my sleep, Min.”
Yoongi was smug when it came to competition, yes, but he had good reason to be. Nine times out of ten he’d win the games you’d play together, which was sad but true.
After spending over an hour playing the game, you finally threw in the towel when Yoongi, yet again, built a sturdier tower than yours.
“Fuck, I swear you practice when I’m not around.” You huffed in frustration, the man exhaling a laugh through his nose at your proposition as he leaned back on the couch along with you.
Curiously, you pulled out your phone, bypassing the messages and social media notifications to look at the time displayed at the top of the screen.
“Oh my god.” You gasped as you glanced at the numbers, Yoongi’s eyes widening in curiosity as he studied your facial expression.
“What?” He inquired, you setting your phone down to look back at him with a small grin.
“It’s almost midnight.” You said excitedly, your boyfriend smiling in return as he leaned farther back into the couch with a subtle gesture of his head for you to follow, steadying your body atop his own as you easily straddled his lap.
“I’m excited for the new year.” He squeezed your hips in his palms, scrunching his nose when you booped the tip of it with your finger.
“Are you excited to kiss me at midnight?” You raised your eyebrows, wiggling them suggestively as he chuckled underneath you.
“That’s so cliche.” He dismissed half-heartedly, you smirking in amusement as you clearly understood the underlying feelings he had about the so-called “cliche.”
“I’m into cliches. You’re not into cliches?” You asked teasingly, Yoongi’s scowl twitching into an upward curve at your tone as he cupped your jaw with his hand.
“Meh.” He shrugged, your eyebrows raising in amusement as his face turned to the side, toward the clock whose minute hand was approaching the new hour.
“Meh?” You repeated incredulously, a satisfied simper playing on Yoongi’s lips as he had achieved his goal of getting a rouse out of you.
“What about that time you sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day? The time you kissed me at the top of that Ferris wheel? When you insisted on holding hands on the ice skating rink despite us both being entirely capable? Or that time you-hmmf“
You were cut off by Yoongi suddenly pushing his lips to yours, his warm hands supporting your jaw and cementing you to him as you hummed at the sudden contact from his warm lips.
Your arms seemed to awkwardly flail at the unexpected action, quickly regaining control of yourself and wrapping your limbs around his neck as you moved in closer to him.
The kiss was close-mouthed, soft and sweet. The adoring action of his lips caressing yours had you smiling instantly, the feeling of Yoongi’s mirroring yours making you lightly chuckle against him.
“I thought you weren’t into cliches, Yoon.” You arched an eyebrow doubtfully, smirking as the man shrugged with a shy smile.
“Some are better than others.”
#bts#bts writing#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts fluff#min yoongi#min yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fluff#yoongi#yoongi writing#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi imagines#yoongi imagine#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#writing#fanfiction#x reader#fluff
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Title: Observation.
Word Count: 3.3k
Pairing: Mini!Yandere!OC/Mini!Reader.
Synopsis: It’s like being the pet of a pet. Shrunken down, trapped, and isolated… There are worse things you could do than keep your head down and try to play happy-family.
TW: Shrinking, Violence, Imprisonment, Gaslighting and Mentions of Kidnapping.
“It gets better, after a few days.”
His voice was calm, laced with an unidentifiable accent and heavy with a calm, complacent undertone, the kind you’d expect from someone talking to an old friend rather than another hostage. You’d only been awake for an hour or two, but if he was going to panic, he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so in front of you. Rather, he’d just greeted you and offered an insincere apology before helping you to your feet, spurring you on with promises of tea and explanations, both of which he seemed in no particular rush to provide.
The strangeness of your current state seemed obvious, by now, even if it didn’t really make sense. Your host was normal, a man of few words and tan skin with the barest hints of a spiraling tattoo peeking out from just beneath his sleeves, but he was the only normal thing you’d seen so far. The kitchen table was too low, pushing against the tops of your knees, but your chair was too high, the soles of your feet barely able to touch the ground. The empty vase on the nearest counter was ornate, but plastic, the cheap, overly-decorated sort of thing you’d decorate a playroom with. Most of the cabinets were false, but the few that weren’t contained plates too thick and too wide, cups that were just too small to be held comfortably, silverware that didn’t feel right in your hands. They were tools for toys, faux-commodities for dolls that didn’t need to really use them.
Things for people like you, now.
You crossed your arms on the smooth tabletop, staring down at your hands. Trying to see if anything about you was different, as you spoke. “I don’t know how you can say that.”
“It does,” He assured, making no exceptional attempt to sound any more convincing than he cared to be. “The headache will start to fade with a little sleep, and you get used to making do. We have a lot, but there’s always something missing.” He paused, chucking under his breath, as if the minor inconvenience was his own, personal joke. “I think he does it on purpose. To ‘simulate the difficulties of real-life’, or whatever excuse he wants to use to explain why I’ve been doing laundry by-hand for the past year and a half.”
You stiffened at the mention of your kidnapper, the person who forced you into their little fucked-up experiment. The details of your abduction were blurry, a nonlinear series of pricks to your arm and nonsensical threats you couldn’t quite remember, but you didn’t push yourself to recall much else. You had a feeling you wouldn’t like anything you managed to dredge up. If someone had the capability to make you into something so small, something so helpless, and the apathy to put you on display like a prized pet… You weren’t sure they’d be nice enough to make the transformation as painless as you’d hope.
“I don’t live here,” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him, although the stranger saw fit to hum in response to the admission. “In this town, I mean. I just moved here for a job - I didn’t even really want to, but I needed the money. They set me up with an apartment and everything.” A kettle whistled, and he nodded sympathetically. He didn’t turn to face you. “I didn’t even get to see it, not before I got… shrunk, or whatever.”
“New faces make the most convenient targets. If no one knows you, no one can look for you. Everyone you used to know is too far to do any good.” You sink into your seat. Somehow, his words of comfort did little to inspire much hope. “I think I was a tourist. I was passing through, stopping at a bar, and then--” He clicked his tongue, waving in some vague, dismissive gesture. “--this.”
You frowned, biting the side of your cheek. “Were you scared?”
At that, he glanced over his shoulder, sending you a loose, careless smile. You attempted to return it as he pulled a mug from the nearest drawer, preparing a still-boiling drink with the idle concentration of someone who’d done this a thousand times before. “At first, but as I said, it gets easier. You never get used to it, but the homesickness fades, and you find ways to keep yourself occupied. The only thing that’s changed is your size.” Your shoulders slumped, your attention quickly drifting back to your own self-pity, but a sturdy hand came to rest on your shoulder before you could start to spiral. “You’re not alone, either. You have me, and we will get you through this. In the meantime, drink.” A mug was delicately placed in front of you, the handle just a little too thick to hold comfortably. “It’ll help with the nausea. You’ll feel better once you clear your head.”
You only leaned back, letting him rub slow, soothing circles into your back as you lifted the mug to your lips and took a sip, if only to see the way his smile seemed to grow.
~
By the sixth day, you’d come to terms with the fact that you were, undoubtedly, in a dollhouse.
The layout was massive, but easy to navigate. The building was split down the middle by a spiraling staircase, the dizzying structure decorated with halls in either direction, all leading to bedrooms or bathrooms or spaces so sickeningly domestic, you’d come to think of the kitchen as a neutral zone. Most were unused. Leon’s (he’d introduced himself properly later on that night, once you were stable enough to ask) bedroom was tucked into a corner of the ground-floor, but there were signs of life everywhere. An empty cup left in an otherwise unoccupied parlor, a book abandoned halfway through, little things, but things Leon didn’t seem like the type to overlook.
The only aspects of the house that hadn’t been tampered with were the industrial-style security cameras, each protected by a metal box and a colorful array of warnings, and one of the spare rooms on the top floor, this one covered floor to ceiling with pastel colors and stuffed animals, things for someone much, much younger than you or the home’s only other occupant. You didn’t try to investigate further. There’d been a camera in that room, too, and if your captor saw you looking around, they might’ve assumed you were curious about...
You’d moved on quickly. That’s all that mattered.
None of the doors had locks, either. You’d only found two so far, a row of deadbolts on the symbolic front-door and a padlock on the basement, both of which seemed to be later additions. Currently, you were lingering near the latter, unsure if you should persist and risk the wrath of your all-seeing voyeur or leave it alone, live to dwell in paranoid anxiety for another day. A part of you was scared, honestly. Nothing else had to be locked away, hidden behind a bolted door, and if there was something you weren’t supposed to see, you weren’t sure you wanted to. If it was Leon’s secret, you couldn’t--
You never got to reach a conclusion. Without warning, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest and pretending not to notice how quickly you went rigid. There was a laugh, a playful squeeze to your hip, and just as quickly as you were restrained, you were let go, forced to turn around and meet the dark eyes of your only companion. Leon was like he always was, cheerful and much too enthusiastic, despite neither emotion having an obvious motivation. Still, you fell into it quickly, attempting to mirror his joy. It was the least you could do, considering how kind he’d been, over the past few days. “I didn’t realize you were up,” He explained. “It’s still strange to have another person here. I wasn’t--”
Suddenly, he stopped, pursing his lips and scanning over you. His eyes never managed to rise above your neckline, though. “What do you think you’re wearing?”
It took you a moment to process the question. There was a closet full of clothes in the room you’d picked out, but you’d managed to avoid them, so far. Every piece was stiff, unyielding to shame or preferences, and the color scheme was akin to something you’d see in an ancient sitcom. It was a futile progression to dread, and yet, you planned on putting it off for as long as possible.
Judging by Leon’s expression, ‘as long as possible’ wasn’t for much longer.
“I didn’t want to change,” You admitted, a hand absentmindedly drifting to your wrinkled shirt, smoothing over the thin fabric. “It just feels… I didn’t want to, alright? Is something wrong with that?”
That earned a scowl. It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to step back. “I left something out for you.”
You’d woken up to a pale-pink monstrosity laid out on the foot of your bed, still on a hanger. It’d been disregarded without a second thought. “I didn’t realize,” You mumbled, bowing your head just enough to seem apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal… Does it matter?”
His scowl deepened, grew, but just as quickly as it’d come, Leon found a way so cover it up. It was there, but a second later, it wasn’t, an expression of disappointed sympathy sewing itself seamlessly into his features. With a gentle, patronizing sigh, he pulled you into another hug, choosing once again to ignore the gesture’s one-sided nature. “It does, angel, but we’ll make an exception this time, alright? When I do something thoughtful, you’re supposed to show me you appreciate it. That’s how this is supposed to work.”
You opened your mouth, thinking for a moment before closing it again. Suddenly, you were glad he couldn’t see your face. The concern slowly infecting it would’ve been… worrying, and you weren’t sure if you could think of an unimportant agitation to explain it away. “The basement,” You said, instead. “Do you have the key?”
“Don’t ask silly questions.” Leon pulled back, tapping the tip of your nose with his index finger. “Hopefully, that door will stay locked. I don’t see a reason either of us should have to go someplace so unpleasant.”
You nodded, and Leon took you by the hand, wordlessly guiding you back towards the center of the house, towards the spiraling staircase and towards your bedroom, where his selected outfit was still waiting, sprawled out over your comforter.
This time, you didn’t argue when he told you to put it on.
~
He waited three weeks to start sleeping in your bed.
It might’ve been an impulsive decision, on his part. It felt impulsive to you. One moment, you were huddled underneath thin sheets, just beginning to close your eyes and welcome the darkness, and the next you were wide awake, terrified and paralyzed as your mattress dipped, creaking as Leon moved onto it. If he cared that you were awake, he didn’t make an effort to show it, only sliding under your sheets and throwing an arm over your waist, holding you with a practiced intimacy, an undeserved intimacy. The kind of closeness you didn’t want any part in.
“Leon,” You mumbled, much too quietly to be taken seriously. As if there was anyone else you should be afraid of waking up. “Are you alright? Why--”
“Hush, now.” His voice was low, but not tired. Perfectly awake. Perfectly aware. More of a half-hearted threat and a command made out of fatigued necessity. “Sleep, sweetheart. Don’t ask questions.”
He closed his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against the nape of your neck. You didn’t.
~
“I see you're fond of your new companion”
Elias didn’t make an effort to pose the sentiment gently. He seemed bored, if anything, his chin resting on his fist as he stared down at you and Leon, seemingly numb to the oddity of talking to two people that barely measured up to his thumb. He’d been generous enough to let out of the dollhouse for - as Leon affectionately put it - the ‘monthly check-in’, or… onto the table it rested on, at least.
It was disorienting, seeing the space that surrounded your world, all bare walls and scientific instruments you couldn’t identify, sterile but cluttered, like an unused room in a very lived-in home. Elias was nothing special, either, not the ominous, foreboding figure you’d imagined. He seemed average, if anything, a pair of black glasses and a head of unruly hair making for a rather unimposing figure. A captor, but not an intimidating one. A man with a hobby that just so happened to need a few unwilling volunteers.
Of course, that didn’t stop you from shrinking into Leon’s side when his gaze shifted towards you.
“They’re good company,” Leon answered, his composure never wavering. Why would it? He’d done this a thousand times before, and as far as you knew, he and Elias got along. As well as a captor and their captive could, anyway. “To tell the truth, I’m starting to think I’ve been here too long. I was almost glad this one wasn’t so stubborn, after last time.”
You felt your throat go dry. “Last time?”
“I don’t want to have to deal with another incident,” Elias warned, brushing off your question as if it’d never been asked. “You got along with your other roommates too, at first. Everything’s wonderful and terrific and perfect, until I come to check on you and find one less participant than I should.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head as he let out a noise of frustration. “I can move (Y/n) to another enclosure if this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to lose resources because you don’t get along with them.”
Leon gasped, pressing a palm to his heart in a show of betrayal. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke or distract you from the topic at hand. “I’ve never done anything that wasn’t necessary. You told me to take care of my home, and I am. I shouldn’t have to suffer because you have poor taste.” Elias rolled his eyes, and Leon laughed, slumping against you, intertwining his fingers with yours mindlessly. “You picked a timid one, and they’re coming along nicely. I don’t plan to waste such a rare opportunity.”
“Are you sure?” Elias asked, leaning back in his chair and fishing for something on the floor at his feet. A notepad, but you couldn’t make out what was written on it. “I’d hate to disagree, but your track-record says otherwise. I’m patient, but I do have my limits, Leon.”
He glanced towards you for the first time since the start of their conversation, keeping you in the corner of his eye. “(Y/n)’s going to behave.”
You didn’t know whether or not you should correct him.
~
You should’ve corrected him.
“No,” You spat, not bothering to hide your disgust. It was a terrible feeling, a vile sense of wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be surprised. Everything about Leon was telling, from the grimace pressed into his lips to the anger in his eyes, bright and fiery and terrible. Unconsciously, you pressed yourself against the tiled wall, gripping your towel a little tighter. It was the only barrier between him and you, and by god, you weren’t going to give it up. “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.”
“You’re being irrational,” He said, crossing his arms and taking a step closer. You considered making a run for the bathroom door, but you doubted you’d be able to reach it before he reacted, catching you and doing something worse than staring you down. “Couples bathe together. It’s normal, you’re just--”
“We’re not a couple!” It was the first time you’d yelled at him, the first time you raised your voice, and Leon didn’t try to hide his offense. He edged closer, but you were quick to press yourself against the wall, to bare your teeth and try to make it clear he couldn’t intimidate you just by existing. Not again. “We’re captives. We were kidnapped, I was kidnapped, you were kidnapped. You can’t keep acting like this is normal, and you can’t expect me to. I’m not just going to sit back and play nice while you--”
“I don’t think I like your tone,” He warned, his eyes narrowing. The shower was still running, hot steam beginning to fill the room, but Leon didn’t seem to feel the need to turn it off. You’d barely had time to cover yourself before he came in, your hair and your skin still dripping, but you were glad you had. If only to protect the few traces of dignity you had left. “Stop,” He ordered, grimly. “You’re going to say something you regret.”
That was your sign to back down. That you should give him what he wanted, or at the very least, do your damnedest to make sure you weren’t the reason he didn’t get it. When he stopped trying to patronize you, it meant he was mad. And when he was mad…
You tried not to think about what happened when Leon got mad.
You should’ve backed down, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to let him have his way. “You don’t even want to get out of here, do you?”
Grit teeth. A locked jaw. Your second warning. “You shouldn’t--”
“I shouldn’t ask questions?” You cut him off without hesitation. “What do you not want me to ask? What are you so scared of my finding out? That you like feeling powerful? That you want to be in control? You can’t lie to me, I’m the one that has to deal with you. All your rules and your comfort and your fucking clothes.” You forced yourself to stop, to take a breath and seek out the same composure Leon was so good at maintaining. He took the chance to make his argument.
“You’ve been here for a month, I’ve been here for nineteen. You don’t know what it’s like when Elias doesn’t get his way. You haven’t had to deal with that because I’m helping you.” Another step. He was practically breathing down your throat, now. “You should be grateful.”
But, you didn’t want to be grateful. You wanted Leon to stop acting like you should be.
You swallowed, letting the silence grow tense before you broke it. “Someone was here before me.” He made no move to interrupt. You persisted. “What happened last time?”
He flinched, and made no attempt to hide it. You didn’t need another warning.
You lunged to the side, aiming blindly for the door, a weapon, anything that could help you escape or fight or act. Leon was faster than you, though, and much more practiced. A fist closed around your shoulder, blunt nails tearing into your skin, and just as swiftly, a heel found its way to the back of your knee, sending you crashing to the ground, something in your ankle cracking as you collapsed. You were slammed into the unforgiving floor, your cheek soon pressed against the cool surface and Leon’s body bent around yours, his weight and his strength keeping you pinned down. Weakly, you tried to push yourself up, but Leon only growled, his resolve strengthened and his grip iron-clad. There was nothing you could do to squirm away, not unless he had a sudden change of heart
“Bitch,” He spat, letting out a string of less specific profanities under his breath. “I took care of you. I kept you safe. All you had to do was let me.”
You didn’t respond. Leon sighed, but his hold on you never loosened.
“You still want to know what happened, don’t you?” He sounded defeated, exhausted, but that didn’t stop him from kissing your shoulder as you struggled to nod, the gesture both fleeting and far too prolonged, at the same time. He pulled back, but didn’t let you go, only scanning over you with the same tight, loving smile he always wore when he was about to do something awful.
You’d never thought that smile would make you feel so sick.
“You’re about to find out, angel.”
#yandere#yandere love#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere prompt#yandere prompts#yandere oneshot#yandere oneshots#yandere drabble#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere imagine#yandere scenerio#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere ocs#yandere oc x reader#male yandere#yandere boy#yandere fantasy#yandere fanfiction#yandere core#yanderecore#yancore
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Ship: Freed x Laxus
Rating: Teen
Prompt: Demon in Disguise x Angel Undercover
Summary: Being a demon was boring, particularly in peacetime. For Freed, passing the time consisted of sneaking into nightclubs and forcing men off the moral path. Thankfully, the angel with beautiful wings and almost rigid set of morals was always there to make things interesting.
Notes: This is Day Two of Fraxus Week, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Be sure to look at their blog, I'm sure there's lot of other great Fraxus content on there for the event already.
Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction
Off The Moral Path
Year: 2025
Location: Paris, France
"Come now, Darling," Freed purred, gently stroking the raven-haired beauty on the cheek. "You know you want to."
To think he'd come to this. Freed Justine – Albion the Slayer, Absolute Shadow, The Nightmares of Angels – resorted to flirting with men in a bar. It was humiliating. He was a soldier, a demonic mage whose power was the stuff of legends, and by rights everyone in the damned club should be bowing for him, on their knees and begging for his mercy. He would have been kind to them, were they giving him the respect he was owed, and perhaps he would have made their night more interesting with a display of his power.
But he couldn't. The war between demons and angels had long since ended, humans had forgotten about the battles and all the people who had been part of it, and as such they didn't know him. To them, Freed was nothing but another human. Better looking of course, but otherwise no different.
Frankly, it was boring.
War between unkillable forces was fun. You didn't have to worry about being hurt, because you couldn't be, and a demon didn't care for guilt. It was simply posturing, and it had allowed Freed to show off the magic that he'd been slowly building from his creation. He was explosively powerful, and he'd sent many of the enemy forces back to heaven time and time again. It was fun seeing them disintegrate as they screamed, but now that was gone.
Technically speaking, he shouldn't have even been in the nightclub at all. Earth was off limits, but he was hardly doing anything too bad. He wasn't poisoning a water system, or luring a man to his death. He was just having a little fun. Nobody could begrudge him a little magically fuelled flirting.
Well, one angel might. But he hadn't arrived yet.
"I dunno," The raven-haired man shrugged, swirling his drink absently.
"I do. You want to do it and you know it," Freed smirked, and his eyes glowed red for a moment. He placed his hand on the mans exposed forearm, and magic flared in his next words. "I'll do it if you will. And you've got nothing to be ashamed of."
A lie, but a fun one.
"You know what," The man said, confidence in his words now. "You're right."
The man was standing up a moment later, walking towards the raised stage with a pole attached to it, removing his shirt. Hm, if the sounds of the cheering at the sight were reflective of the mood, Freed had been right about him having nothing to be ashamed of. It was good guess; Freed really had no idea what a human saw as attractive anymore.
Freed watched from the bar, drinking his wine with a smirk as the man began to gyrate over the pole. Men and women alike cheered, and Freed liked to think that he had done his good deed for the day. Of course, the dancing man might disagree when the spell wore off, but that was hardly a problem.
He'd dispel his magic as the man was dancing. It would be fun to see him crumple.
"The hell are you doing?" A loud rumbling voice came from behind, and Freed smirked.
Right on time.
"What does it look like, my dear," Freed said, not looking towards the angel looming over him. "Exercising my Devil given right to annoy you. Is it working?"
"Take the spell off him," The angel demanded. "Now."
"During his dance. Imagine the embarrassment, it would be debilitatingly humiliating," Freed laughed quietly. "Would he be able to look himself in the mirror? Would he be allowed back out of his home? Would he cry? Rather cruel, aren't you angel?"
"Shut it, devil," The angel growled.
"So rude," Freed tutted while grinning. When a hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, Freed turned to look to the man. "Good evening, Laxus."
It was always disheartening to see Laxus disguised as a human. He was good looking in their terms, with broad shoulders, a thin waist, handsomely rugged features, and a damn cocky smirk when he used it. But Freed always missed seeing his wings. They were long stretching, tinged and scarred by lightning, with feathers so soft that Freed couldn't decide whether he wanted to stroke them or to pluck them out to see the man scream. He was a magnificent beast of an angel – the counterpart to Freed's demon – and very fun to annoy.
"Hypnosis on humans is fucking illegal," Laxus growled.
"Then it's good that I didn't use it," Freed dismissed, placing the wine on the bartop. "I only lowered his inhibitions. He's lost all doubt and regret, and he's simply doing what he wants to do. Hardly a war crime."
"Tell him that when the police come," Laxus murmured, and Freed laughed. Would the man be arrested before he was naked? Freed hoped not; human anatomy always made him chuckle. "You ain't supposed to be on earth. The hell is wrong with you?"
"You're here," Freed retorted, ignoring the question. "Won't you get in trouble too, angel?"
"I'm only here because I knew you were pulling this shit," Laxus whispered harshly, hand on Freed's shoulder tightening. "And I wanted to get you to cut it the hell out before," he jutted his chin up, "they figure out what you're doing."
"But the danger is half the fun," Freed smirked.
Laxus said nothing else, instead surrounding them both with a wave of angelic magic. As was natural for a demon, the overall holiness of the gesture sent a shooting of pain over Freed, but he grit his teeth and allowed the spell to take effect. A moment later, he was teleported to a blank, bland, nothing room nestled in the middle of limbo.
This was always how his little dance with Laxus went. Freed would sneak down to earth, annoy, and torment a human in a way with very few long-lasting consequences so that he could get a fill of fun, Laxus would somehow be informed of what Freed had done and would stop him before any other heavenly figures realised what he was doing, and he would be teleported away. It had happened hundreds of times, and always ended with Laxus yelling at him for his stupidity but never actually doing anything to stop him.
His face would soon be angry, and his wings would be spasming and flickering. Anger was a good look on the man.
But, truly, this dance was getting boring. They were all-powerful beings, opponents by very nature, who had met in the middle of battel and had underwent fights that would be studied for history in years to come. They shouldn't have gotten stuck in a rut. It was almost insulting.
"Why don't you leave me alone?" Freed asked before Laxus could begin shouting.
"What?" The angel asked, taken unaware.
"Well, I understand that your side likes to preach forgiveness and repentance and so on, so perhaps I can understand you trying to stop me the first ten or so times, but we've been doing this for years now," Freed smirked, leaning forward and leaning against a white table. He looked up at Laxus from under his lashes, flirtatious and smirking. "I'm not changing my ways, and you know it. So why not leave me to get killed by your darling overlords?"
Laxus tensed his jaw, grit his teeth, and let his wings shoot out from his back. What a lovely sight. Freed quickly removed his own human disguise, horns cracking from his skull and eyes turning a red and purple swirl.
"Everyone can improve," Laxus retorted. "I think that, given-"
"I've known you for centuries, Laxus, I know when you're parroting that ridiculous heavenly mantra," Freed cut off the argument before it could be made. "I want to know why you, angel supreme Laxus Dreyar, is being ever so kind to me so often."
He said nothing, and Freed grinned.
"May I offer my thoughts, since you don't seem to want to answer," Freed continued. "I think we're more alike than you think. You and I, you see, we're fighters. You can claim pacifism all you want, but I know you loved every moment of engagement. Showing off your power, proving yourself to be an overwhelming force of nature, it was everything you ever wanted. And then it was taken away from you, and you were at a loss of what you could do. Everything was peaceful and there was nobody to do battle with. Nobody to impress. Nobody but me."
"That ain't what happened," Laxus grunted. He walked towards a door Freed assumed would take him back to heaven, and Freed quickly intercepted.
"It's exactly what happened. I'm your opponent, in this little game we've created for ourselves," Freed smirked, took a single step forward so he was in Laxus' space and yet not quite touching him. "It was fun, as games go, but I think we should move past it. Flip the board and do something a little more," he smirked, and raked his claws over Laxus chest before hissing, "tactile."
Laxus' face held an expression Freed was familiar with. He was on the brink of doing something he wanted to do more than anything, but knew it was wrong. A look that, on humans, brought Freed a giddy thrill.
Seeing it on Laxus was euphoria.
The angel swallowed slightly, looking over Freed's face, his claws, his horns and then back to his face again. His eyes were dilated just a little, body tensing and muscles hardening as if he was trying to steel his resolve. He was so close to breaking, and making both of their lives both more pleasurable and much more interesting. He just needed a nudge. Freed was happy to oblige.
"That was the problem with the war, I feel," He purred, voice like silk and seductive. "Place men of unsurmountable power together and make them fight. It fuels passion. We were purpose built to feel strongly about one another. To obsess over one another. To rely on one another," He raised his hand and dug his claws into Laxus' jaw. "What did they think would happen when we could no longer fight? Falling for each other was inevitable."
"I ain't fallen, not for you," Laxus murmured as he leant close to Freed, tenseness giving way. He was even smiling, ever so slightly, and that was all the encouragement that he needed.
"Aren't you?" Freed grinned, stroking Laxus' cheek and loving the restrained mewling that bubbled in the angel's throat.
"No," Laxus murmured, bringing his lips closer to Freed, and his grin was just as unhindered as Freed's.
"Well," Freed purred, pressing into Laxus' chest. "Put your money where your mouth is then."
He closed the gap between them, and two millenniums of tension exploded to life in a slow, tender kiss. The mixture of magics gave their kiss a burning, fizzing sensation that spurred them both on. The contrast of their bodies stung and felt fantastic, addictively peculiar and driving them to kiss harder.
Laxus' wings outstretched behind him, then wrapped around them both. The comforting feathers tingled at Freed's back, and he leant against the man with a smirk as they pulled apart. Laxus was smiling at him, not a lingering sense of doubt in sight, and Freed grinned.
As fun as it would have been to taint an angel, bring him to his knees and make him turn his back on his culture, Freed had truly believed his words. They were fated to be together; it only made sense. Freed had broken countless rules set after the war, and he should have been struck down by lightning or burned at the stake for his crimes. Even with Laxus looking over him, the powers of fate were more powerful, and breaking of the rules came with immediate punishment. He hadn't been killed, despite his flagrant disregard of the rules. There was a reason for that, and he liked to think he'd been saved for Laxus. The fact Laxus had showed no regret, nor no fear about what he had done, seemed to suggest Laxus agreed with the sentiment.
Now, Freed was in a new game, a much more fun one. A game where it wasn't simply a demon fighting against an angel. No, this game had only one side. A flirtatious demon with an abhorrence for boredom, and his darling, virtuous fallen angel. Who would dare oppose them?
Le Parisien – 02.11.2025
Une Célébrité Populaire Prise Dans Le Scandale De La Nudité En Public.
Hier soir, le chanteur et danseur populaire Grey Fullbuster a été arrêté à Paris. Les rapports ont affirmé que, dans une démonstration de confiance ivre, il est monté au sommet d'une scène dans la discothèque Devil's Door, et a commencé à enlever tous ses vêtements et à danser contre un poteau. Les réactions à la situation vont du dégoût moral au plaisir divertissant. Dans une déclaration faite par le manager du chanteur, Fullbuster a affirmé que "Le diable m'a fait le faire".
#Fraxus Week#Fraxus#Freed Justine#Laxus Dreyar#Fairy Tail#Fanfic#Writing#One Shot#Modern AU#Angels and Demons AU#Word Count: 2.2k
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Yandere BTS WORLD: Choose Your Own Route
[SUMMARY: The downloading of an app based on worldwide sensation BTS leads you, someone looking for an escape in a boring life, to be trapped in a game where everything seems to be going en route until a bug in the game's system causes the members in the game to become more dangerous and obsessive than before.]
TYPE: horror/thriller fic
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, more to be added later as story progresses
Credit: This is a fictional story based on the real game BTS WORLD. Credit goes to the developers of the game, Netmarble, Bighit, and, of course, BTS.
A/N: It will take me a long time to finish this series up as I’m busy with school and I also need to finish my other beloved requests. Please have patience, and thank you to all who have showed support for my writing. I love you all very much!
7 faces, practically sparkling underneath the clear glass of your phone, peered up to you from the app store's cover. Your social media apps had raved about the game all day, white almost translucent notifications coating your phone's lock screen while you were stuck at work, unable to properly download the game. You tapped on the blue download button, nervously chewing your lip in anticipation as the download line dragged itself down the pale gray circle.
A blue open button popped up. You quickly hit it with your thumb.
The game opened, covering your screen in a glowing, almost blinding sheen of white as it loaded.
Entering BTS WORLD. Your phone will need downloading! Would you like to use your Wi-Fi or your 4G/LTE?
You tapped on your option and eagerly watched the screen switch to a screen of all of the members, playfully grinning up at you from their perfectly aligned positions.
You marveled at the photo as you waited for your download to complete. All of the members had gotten a new casual look for the game, a sharp contrast to the high-end tailored unique pieces of fashion they were usually clad in. They were effortlessly handsome as always, their eyes bright but intense at the camera.
Yoongi casually stood there with his hand gently placed on Seokjin’s shoulder, his light pink lips delicately curved and his dark eyes coyly directed at the screen, strands of his platinum blond hair in his gaze.
Seokjin looked handsome as ever with his princely features and rosy heart-shaped lips stretched in a wide smile. His hand was placed on Jungkook's shoulder, back-hugging the younger man affectionately.
Jungkook's head was slightly turned back to face Seokjin, exposing his sharp jawline as he beamed in a bunny-like way that made his eyes close shut and his nose scrunch up adorably.
Namjoon glowed in the photo with his new soft rosy blond hair, his eyes closed and his teeth showing through his large grin. His shoulders were drooped down and his arms hung in front of him in a playful posture.
Jimin's head was tilted slightly to his left, leaning his arm on Namjoon's shoulder. His eyes were gentle but intense, and his golden hair highlighted the rest of his angelic features.
Hoseok was leaning slightly forward, his lips arched in a heart-shaped manner as he beamed brightly at the camera, his eyes practically sparkling with a shining happiness.
Taehyung had his head slightly tilted to his right, effortlessly showing up his chiseled face structure. He coolly leveled his gaze with the camera with his lips spread in a coquettish rectangular smile.
Your lips stretched in a large smile, giggling slightly as you rolled onto your stomach, your soft mattress curving to accommodate your sudden movement.
A white opaque bar popped up on the screen as your download completed, a long stretch of black print pasted onto it. You carelessly scrolled down and checked the small box before agreeing to the terms.
You flicked through the beginning scenes, the soft sparkling colors dragging your attention in. It was an alternate universe where BTS didn't exist, each of the members living their own lives. Seokjin was part of the staff at a luxurious hotel, Namjoon was a student hacker playing detective, Yoongi was a music student preparing for a student recital, Hoseok was a veterinary student unable to perform surgery, Jimin was stuck between the world of soft rice cakes and dancing, Taehyung was a true city kid thrust back into a rural farming life, and Jungkook was a gifted student with a passion for taekwondo. In order to return to your old world, you had to help them pursue their passions.
An option flicked open, showing the 7 members.
Pick a route to enter BTS WORLD!
Your finger hovered over an option, ready to click your choice. Your choice became bigger, the words Nice Selection! popping up. You impatiently clicked on the screen again, hoping that it would continue to the actual game when...
The app froze before disappearing, the black fading away to show your home screen. You frowned to yourself. Must've been a glitch they were trying to figure out. You clicked on the game again.
The game froze again before you could make it past the initial screens, shutting you out of the game. This time, it shut off your phone, and when you tried to turn your phone off, nothing happened. You exhaled in both disappointment and frustration, flinging your phone onto the other side of your bed. This really was a shitty way to end your day.
You squeezed your eyes shut instead, deciding to sleep instead of staying up all night playing the game like you had wanted to. Maybe it was better for you this way. You needed to catch up on sleep after all.
The phone remained black until you fell deep asleep before glowing a deep, ominous vermillion. When you turned onto your side, the screen faded back to darkness. It stayed that way the entire night.
You woke up to bright sunlight, wincing at the assault on your eyes and pushing your face into your pillow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slip in a few more minutes of sleep. Sleep remained just outside of your grasp. You slid open your eyes, your eyes aching in slight agony at the sudden transition from darkness to day, before slowly sliding up into a sitting position. Your bones popped as you stretched, straining your muscles as you rolled your neck and pushed your arms out in front of you.
You fumbled for your phone, your warm fingertips pressing against the cool glass as you tried to turn it back on. To your dismay, nothing happened.
You couldn't afford to get it fixed right now, not with the staggering height of bills decorating your coffee table, and for a split second, you jokingly thought of suing Bighit. That’d be a way to pay for your phone for sure, not that you would ever win.
Forcing a yawn into the palm of your hand, you got up, ready to head to your shift. When you tried to turn on your phone again, the screen stubbornly stayed dark. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for the rest of that morning.
You were walking down the street when something stopped you. A large pop up appeared, but except on being on your phone, it was right in front of you, big and glowing white. And yet the people around you didn’t seem to notice, milling around it without even a glance.
Are you ready to start the game? Yes or No.
Your mouth fell open. This was definitely not what was supposed to happen.
You reached out, trying to see if you could touch the large pop up and accidentally hitting yes in the process. The word glowed before the pop up vanished.
What the, what the fuck did you just do? And most importantly, what the fuck was happening?
You took a step back, your body jostling as it hit someone behind you. Your head whipped back, your mouth gaping wide and falling even wider when you noticed who was behind you.
The person behind you bowed his head, smiling politely, albeit a little embarrassed as his mouth opened to apologize.
You gasped softly, the name falling out of your lips without you being able to stop it and interrupting him mid-apology.
‘’[Seokjin].’’
‘’[Namjoon].’’
‘’[Yoongi].’‘
‘‘[Hoseok].’’
‘‘[Jimin].’’
‘‘[Taehyung].’‘
‘‘[Jungkook].’‘
#yandere bts#bts world#bts#yandere#yandere writing#yandere series#yandere fanfic#bts yandere#yandere kpop#yandere x reader#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts au#bts world au#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#yandere yoongi#yandere hoseok#yandere jimin#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#bts horror au#bts angst#choose your own route#bts writing
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something that i already know
by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)
As soon as Siwon says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong’s astute, masterful, beautiful mind… But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn’t provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.
fandom: kpop, super junior
characters: siwon, shindong, eunhyuk
ships: shinwon, sihyuk
genres: friendship, angst, romance
themes: slice of life, one-sided crush, angst with a happy ending
setting: high school into college; metro seoul area, south korea
word count: 12.7k
read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad
A/N (05/01/2021): Hi, ELF! This is my first Super Junior fanfic :) Title comes from the Backstreet Boys song of the same name; cover image is made by me; and if you recognise anything in the fic, that means I don't own it. Happy reading!
~~~
It's never easy being the new kid in school, and Donghee is no exception. He has no friends; he has to play a lot of catch-up in the first few weeks because where his old teachers left off doesn't match up to where his new teachers are picking up; and he has to spend precious emotional energy acclimating to the culture and social politics.
Add in the fact that it's senior year, and he's at the most elite academy in Gyeonggi on a scholarship—he's seen this K-drama before. He knows how it ends.
"Hey! You're the new kid, Shin Donghee, right? Can I sit here?"
Admittedly, Tall, Bright, and Handsome doesn't usually come up to bully the new kid with such a charming smile on his face in the script, but Donghee still knows his role.
"Yeah, got it. Sorry. Didn't know this was your seat," he mumbles as he hurriedly packs up his lunch and books. He's not trying to make waves on his first day, thank you very much.
"No, no," T.B.H. puts out his hand to stop him from putting his planner away, and Donghee is shocked into stillness from the glaringly off-script performance that the other is putting on. "I meant, like, can I sit with you? I didn't know if you wanted to sit alone or not; but if you wanted the option for company, here I am."
Another winsome smile graces the other's face, and Donghee's eyes narrow. "Are you sure you wanna sit with the scholarship kid?" he asks sardonically. He isn't trying to get away anymore, but he's still not convinced he's welcome here.
Tall, Bright, and Handsome's light dims just a bit, but his pout is still effortlessly charming. It's almost offensive. "Come on. We're not like that here."
Donghee looks no further than just above the other's shoulder and sees a group of girls whispering and giggling in their direction. He looks back at the well-meaning but clueless hero of the story and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. T.B.H. looks over his shoulder to see what he saw, and he at least has the grace to be embarrassed when he turns back around.
Donghee is prepared to give a half-conciliatory, half-I told you so parting glance, but the other student keeps talking. "I'll admit, that's not a good look for us," he says with a grimace, "but would you believe me if I said they were acting like that because of me and not you?"
Considering he's been calling the guy 'Tall, Bright, and Handsome' in his head this whole time, yeah, he could believe it.
Hoping against hope that he isn't about to regret this, Donghee sits back down at the lunch table. T.B.H.'s smile is so bright, Donghee thinks he saw one of the guy's front teeth actually sparkle. "I'm Choi Siwon," he introduces as he extends his hand. Donghee shakes it and wryly thinks to himself that of course T.B.H.'s real name means 'cool.'
~~~
To nobody's surprise, Siwon is part of the popular crowd, which Donghee determines by the look on everyone's faces when Siwon invites him to sit with his friends at lunch the next day. The guys weren't exactly welcoming, but they were polite. He doesn't know whether maybe Siwon said something to them or not about being nice to the new kid; but honestly, he'll take it. He's still not entirely convinced that this is the setup for some sort of 'Carrie' situation or something. It's senior year after all, so prom is coming up.
It isn't until Siwon invites them all over to study together that things shift.
"Bro, what the fuck," Kangin says out of the blue, causing everyone to look up and causing Donghee to drop the pencil he was playing with. Kangin is staring at him—more specifically, his hand—and everyone's attention turns to him instead.
"Uh," he intones, not sure what is happening here and suddenly feeling the urge to look up.
"Do that again," Kangin demands, gesturing at Donghee's hand. His fingers twitch involuntarily at the command, but he genuinely has no clue what he's meant to do. He looks to Siwon with a clear plea for help on his face.
"Youngwoon, what gives?" Siwon asks, using Kangin's real name to snap him out of whatever is captivating the varsity baseball captain.
"Donghee was legit balancing a fucking pencil on his finger!" Kangin exclaims while gesturing helplessly at Donghee's hand.
Donghee understands immediately. "Ah, sorry. I forgot I did that." Without further prompting, he balances his pencil on its eraser at the tip of his middle finger. He moves his hand side to side for fun, showing off how the graphite tip stays roughly at the same point in the air all the while. With a flick of his finger, he launches the pencil up and catches it in mid-air, smoothly transitioning to end with a bow in his seat with the same gesture.
He looks up to find four slack-jawed teenage boys, and he brags, "I can do that with basically anything I can lift."
All pretenses of studying are summarily discarded in favour of testing this theory. Donghee easily balances notebooks, folding chairs, and even a curtain pole (dismantled from the window by an excited Heechul and reinstalled by an amused Siwon).
Once the others are thoroughly entertained, they don't want to go back to studying. Alas, they are at Siwon's house; as rich as he is, he doesn't have any convenient distractions (which Donghee surmises is the point of going to Siwon's to study in the first place). Kibum's the one to recommend just going to the local convenience store and walking around for no reason, which feels a lot like acceptance to Donghee.
In fact, it isn't long until he finds himself hanging out with some of the guys sans Siwon.
Kibum hands Donghee part of his deck for some trading card game he's never even heard of before, much more played; but after two rounds and a gradual learning of the rules, Donghee is now locked into a 1v1 match against Kibum, having just killed Heechul's last creature card.
"You sure your name's Shin Donghee and not Hee Shindong?" Heechul mutters as he throws his cards on the table. "Like, what can't you do?"
Donghee isn't paying him any attention then, instead supremely focused on using his impromptu green-black strategy to beat Kibum with his own deck.
So he's surprised when the next day Heechul slaps his back and says, "Yah! Shindong! I've been calling you for like five minutes!" as he falls into step with Donghee on his way to school. "Run me through the lymphatic system one more time." Donghee obligingly pulls out his notebook and helps his friend cram for their biology quiz that day, but his mind is somewhere else.
He's never had a nickname before, and he likes it.
~~~
Siwon is nothing like what he expects.
He spends most of his free time with the guys now, and he keeps coming back to that realisation.
Siwon is touchy. Like, more affectionate than a dog or a baby could be—combined. Kibum may be the youngest, but Siwon is the baby, and no one seems to mind treating him as such. Shindong is a man who likes his personal space, but Siwon's touches are so genuinely friendly and joyful that he finds himself readily inviting them into his bubble.
Siwon is expressive. Casual observers would never notice more than his charming smile and runway-ready neutral gaze, but he and the guys know better than that. Siwon talks with his whole body. His amusement is measured in congratulatory high-fives, and his stress in head shakes and tapping fingers. Shindong can always tell what he's thinking and feeling.
Siwon is down-to-earth. He's the richest in their friend group by a whole social class, but nothing about him plays on Shindong's financial insecurities. In fact, the first time Shindong hosted his friends over, the power went out, and Siwon was the only one who happened to recognise the strategically placed candles and matches around the living room. He wordlessly helped Shindong light them back up and suggested they take advantage of the dark to tell scary stories. Shindong will always be grateful for that.
Siwon is single. Sure, he doesn't give off playboy vibes, but he is certainly the poster child for monogamy. Shindong would not have been surprised to meet a loving, long-term girlfriend who is just as angelic as Siwon is and somehow twice as gorgeous, but no such person exists. Shindong has seen girls confess to Siwon literally once a day since they became friends (the record for a single day is currently four confessions), but Siwon graciously yet firmly denies them all.
Siwon is his best friend. It starts with study sessions, which turn into de-stress movie nights, which turn into sleepovers—and before he knows it, people from teachers to strangers start considering them a package deal. Shindong doesn't mind, of course. Siwon is less intense when he's not around the others, more introspective and goals-oriented—and Shindong can relate. It's great to have a friend who gets both sides of him and around whom he can comfortably show both sides. He didn't have one at his old school, but he's glad he has someone now.
~~~
"Want the rest of my pork?" Kibum offers Shindong at lunch. "Nah, I don't believe in cannibalism," Shindong says, even as he begins transferring the meat over to his own lunch tray.
The table is silent for a moment, but luckily he places his tray down just as Kangin decides to lay an open-palm slap to his back, laughing uproariously. Heechul is legitimately choking on his own food, and Kibum gives him a nod with a grin to acknowledge the joke.
Shindong feels pretty pleased with himself—he just knew that joke would land—and he glances over at Siwon to see the other's reaction. To his surprise, Siwon is staring at the table with a furrowed brow instead. Shindong frowns but lets it go. It's too bad Siwon was too busy thinking to hear his joke.
After lunch, the two of them only have the last class of the day together, and he notices Siwon still seems to be in a sour mood. Shindong racks his brain trying to remember if Siwon had a test he was worried about today. Maybe he feels like he failed?
"Hey, man," he calls out to Siwon after the final bell rings. "Wanna get some gyoza? On me."
Siwon's face brightens for the first time since lunch, and Shindong knows he made the right call; but in the time it takes for them to head to the Japanese place near his house and settle into a booth, Siwon's mood is dark again.
The table is quiet as Siwon plays with his food, making no move to eat any. Shindong stuffs two fried shrimp pieces in his mouth as casually as possible. Don't ask him why, but he thinks talking with his mouth full will help break the ice. "Hey, you good? You've been in a mood all day."
Siwon briefly meets Shindong's carefully neutral stare then averts his eyes to the table. "I don't like it when you do that," he mutters.
Shindong freezes with the next set of two gyoza halfway to his mouth. "Eat? Sorry man, I'm very diligent about my eat-anything-in-sight diet. If I stopped being fat, the girls at school would be all over me instead of you, which would disturb the balance of our friendship." He ends with a bite of dumpling and a cheeky grin.
"No, that! The self-deprecating jokes about your size!"
They both freeze. Siwon did not mean to blurt it out like that.
He deflates a little in his seat in embarrassment. "I don't like them. They make me sad," he continues in a much quieter tone.
Shindong did not see this coming and, frankly, has no idea how to react. "Um, you want me to stop being fat?"
"No, I want you to stop drawing attention to it. It's like you have to make a mean joke about your size first before anyone else can. No one in the group would ever be mean to you about it; I wouldn't let them," Siwon states adamantly. He means every word. The second one of the others crosses a line, he wouldn't hesitate to make sure they never, ever did it again.
The words are out before Shindong fully thinks about them. "You can say the word 'fat,' Siwon. Newsflash, I am fat. I'm as fat as you are tall. It's just something about me. I won't hesitate to make a fat joke any sooner than Heechul would hesitate to make a bi joke." His frustration surprises even himself, so he takes a sip from his water to calm down.
Siwon takes that as his cue to plead his case, and pleading he is. "It doesn't bother you that that's the part of yourself you decide to play up for the jokes? You're a great dancer, and you're quick on your feet—literally and figuratively! You'd be so great at, like, slapstick or something!" Shindong snorts, but Siwon forges on. "I just don't like seeing my friends laugh at you for… for being fat when you're so much more than that."
Shindong doesn't say anything, just lowers his head, and Siwon sighs. "You want to make a fat joke, don't you." "AND I'M SO MUCH ALREADY—okay. I'm done, I'm done."
Siwon withers and lets his head drop to his arms on the table. Shindong laughs, all tension dissipated. "So, this is clearly bothering you a lot," he needlessly observes. Siwon nods his head without lifting it up, and Shindong takes pity on him. "Alright, I'll try to tone it down. Or maybe I'll do like you said and just sprinkle in other kinds of jokes. No one likes a one-trick pony anyway."
Siwon peeks up through his eyelashes, and Shindong nods faux-sagely. "And maybe in the future when I'm rich and can afford therapy, I'll find out you're right and my brand of humour was simply a defense mechanism for some deeply internalised fatphobia all along. Then you could say, 'I told you so.'"
Siwon shakes his head resolutely. "That's not something I want to be right about."
Shindong shrugs in a 'suit yourself' manner and goes back to eating, and Siwon follows suit.
After a stretch of companionable silence, Siwon speaks up again. "I knew you're fat—I know it—but I don't think I understood that being fat was a part of you. Thank you for giving me a chance to understand you better. I thought I was intervening in something unhealthy, but I see now that that wasn't as righteous as I thought it was." He pauses then and doesn't continue until Shindong looks up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry if I came off as insensitive or, worse, embarrassed. You don't embarrass me, Donghee."
Shindong looks back down at his food, unsure of what the emotion is in Siwon's voice as the other said his real name. "I know, but thank you."
~~~
Shindong is everything he didn't know he needs.
As the school year progresses, Siwon finds himself feeling lighter and lighter, and he can trace all of his growing juvenescence directly to his new best friend.
Shindong values hard work. The other guys are great at their own things, but they're missing that fire under their butts that makes them actually try. Shindong doesn't just put in the effort; he also appreciates the challenge and sees it as an opportunity instead. Shindong empowers Siwon to embrace his own challenges in a way that he didn't feel like he could do until Shindong came around.
Shindong tries new things. Siwon is a rather adventurous guy himself, but that's not what he means. Shindong picks up and drops hobbies as quickly as Heechul switches partners, and he's amassed a great wealth of knowledge as a result. He's dynamic, and Siwon could never get bored of the way Shindong talks about his niche interest du jour.
Shindong speaks his mind. His friend group is made up of some pretty lax guys, which is great until some of them get into an argument. They never really talk things out, instead waiting until it's no longer annoying to be in the same room and just choosing to let it go. When Shindong is offended, you'll know. When he's wrong, he'll admit it. It does lead to some tension at first, but they all end up better for it as a result, and Siwon wishes he could be that brave.
Shindong trusts him. When Siwon was planning on hosting the guys over at his house for Kangin's birthday since he has an indoor pool and hot tub, Shindong shyly asked him to think of something else because he's afraid of water. That was a request Siwon was more than happy to oblige if it meant including Shindong in the festivities.
Shindong doesn't need him to be 'on' all the time. One time Kangin invited himself over to one of their hangouts—he and Shindong had planned to read the newspaper together to catch up on current events and financial affairs—and he got bored and complained that they should do something more fun. Before Siwon could worry Shindong felt the same way, the other had sassily defended their brand of bonding and just told Kangin to leave if he didn't like it. Siwon loves the fact that Shindong cherishes that quiet time together as much as he does.
Siwon thinks he maybe just loves Shindong.
~~~
Shindong slides into the seat beside Siwon in their first shared class of the day just as he slides an envelope across Siwon's desk. The envelope happens to have the same seal as the university into which Siwon is planning on matriculating. They offered him a spot on the varsity basketball team and sponsored on-campus living, and Mama Choi didn't raise no fool.
Siwon raises an eyebrow in interest, and Shindong simply points at the envelope with his chin. Siwon takes that as the invitation it is, and he pulls out the letter inside.
Congratulations, Donghee! You have been accepted…
Siwon whips his head up to look at Shindong, who has the largest shit-eating grin on his face.
They need to talk about this. Now.
"Seonsaengnim!" Siwon abruptly interrupts the teacher's lecture with his hand straight in the air. He ignores all the eyes that turn to him in shock. "Donghee isn't feeling too well. Can I take him to the nurse?"
All attention shifts to Shindong, who improvises in stride. "Ughhhhhnnnn," he groans pitifully, slouching over on his desk for added effect.
"Very well, then," the teacher waves off. Siwon stands up and bows hastily before half-guiding, half-dragging Shindong out the door. "Awwwwwwgggggghhhh," Shindong keeps up the ruse as he stumbles out, affecting delirium.
Once they're out of sight from the doorway, they run down the halls until they reach the bathroom, trying without success to contain their giggles along the way. "Couldn't give me a head's up back there?" Shindong teases as he sits on the edge of a sink, lightly panting.
"Couldn't give me a head's up that you were applying to my university?" Siwon punches Shindong's shoulder, acting affronted, but he swoops in for a bone-crushing hug immediately afterwards.
Shindong awkwardly returns the hug. (Siwon pinning his arms to his side means he can only reach Siwon's elbows.) His voice is quiet when he says, "My hopes were already up. I didn't want to get yours up, too."
Siwon gets it, so he lets it and Shindong go. The excited smile stays on his face, though. "Are you gonna go?"
"I don't know, man. They gave me a scholarship, but that just brings the tuition cost down to the same price as the local uni. I'd still have to get a job or a work-study to help offset the costs; and on top of that, I'd be so far away from home…"
"... But you're willing to go through all that just to keep going to the same school as me?" Siwon offers cheekily, squashing that incredibly light feeling in his chest with humour.
Shindong rolls his eyes. "I was gonna say, 'But all that is doable, and hey, at least you'll be there for me to mooch off of,'" he says with an attitude, but the corners of his lips quirk up at the end.
"You're right. I'll be there for you," Siwon affirms. Something about the serious way he said that makes Shindong feel like he's missing something, but he brushes it off. He was a little nervous about going so far away for school, but he has a feeling he'll be fine with Siwon around.
~~~
Siwon sidles up to Heechul, who casually throws his arm around the newcomer's shoulders despite the height difference. "How's my favourite wallet doing?" Heechul teases.
They're the only two to share this free period, and they often spend it outside, chatting, listening to music, doing homework, whatever. This time, Siwon finds Heechul leaning against a wall and people-watching.
"What's your read on Shindong?" Siwon asks as casually as possible. He's hoping he doesn't need to explain further, and luckily Heechul doesn't need clarification. Heechul knows what Siwon means.
He also knows: "Give up before it's too late."
Siwon's hopes plummet. "Really?" he asks, face and voice coloured by obvious disappointment.
Heechul looks over at Siwon and realises it is, in fact, too late for the other. His heart clenches for his long-time friend, and Heechul finds himself equivocating out of a need to assuage him. "Maybe I'm wrong for once. Like, what do I know? I'm just 18."
Siwon tries on a bright smile. "Yeah, maybe. There's gotta be a first time for everything, right, hyung?"
But now is not one of those times, and Heechul knows it. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though." He tries on a reassuring grin and a friendly knock on Siwon's shoulder.
He knows it looks more like a grimace, and he knows Siwon is ignoring that. He just doesn't know how long it'll take before Siwon's heart breaks.
He may not have had Heechul's fullest support, but Siwon has spent Too Many days thinking about this to go back now. It took long enough as it is to even get to this point; but if he's being honest with himself, he knew it was only a matter of time.
He finds his opportunity on their way home from school the week before showtime.
"Shindong, wanna go to prom with me?" "What?"
Shindong gives him a look so incredulous, Siwon is reminded of one of those dogs with smushed faces. The thought makes him smile even though his heart feels simultaneously too heavy and too fast.
"Should I, um, should I repeat myself?" he asks while trying to hide his shaking hands by grabbing onto his backpack straps.
"I'm just… so confused. Didn't Kwon Boa ask you to prom yesterday? Did she dump you already? What did you do?!"
In truth, Siwon turned her down as soon as she asked him, but saying that now would be unhelpful for his purposes.
"Even if you did somehow fuck up your chance with the prettiest, most sought-after girl in school, you still could ask literally anyone to be your date? Why would you go the friend route for prom? It's not even a valid Plan Z," Shindong continues.
Siwon pouts. "If I can ask anyone, why can't I ask you?"
Shindong is unimpressed, and Siwon wavers in his conviction. He wasn't originally going to tell him, but…
This could be it. This could be his chance to confess to Shindong.
There's always the chance that Shindong would reject him, of course. He'd probably use Siwon's own technique against him, too; that would be pretty pathetic. Then he'd promise that this wouldn't affect their friendship, except it will because he'll be too awkward around Siwon; and slowly but surely, he'd pull away from the other until Siwon finds himself at university, alone and painfully aware of how close he is to his best friend who is completely out of reach—oh God, of course he can't confess to Shindong.
The aforementioned snaps his fingers in Siwon's face, and Siwon resolutely sticks to his plan. He throws a casual arm around Shindong's shoulder and forces them to keep walking. "I heard from the seniors before us that prom's more fun with friends anyway. Why go with some girl I don't know when I can go with you?"
"Siwon, I know you're lying to me."
"What?" Siwon's step falters.
"We're best friends, of course I know." Besides the fact that Siwon is unconsciously telegraphing, the other guys have found dates already. Siwon would have brought it up with all of them if he really wanted to go with friends.
Siwon bites his bottom lip, waiting for whatever fallout comes from his decision to open this can of worms.
Shindong sighs and slips his hand into Siwon's. He's learned touching helps. "It also means I know when to let it go. I'll go to prom with you, flower boy."
Siwon cannot contain himself. "HE SAID YES!" he yells into the sky as he runs around, hooting and hollering in unadulterated jubilation.
Shindong shakes his head with annoyed fondness as he continues walking home, expecting Siwon to catch up with him once he's tired out.
(And it turns out Siwon's seniors were right: prom is a lot more fun with friends.)
~~~
Their final hurrah takes place at the height of the summer. Between family vacations and Siwon moving in early for the summer basketball bootcamp the university is making him attend, it's the only time they'll have where all five are available before the fall comes and scatters them away.
Siwon's family lets them borrow one of their cars for the day, and they make the maknae drive them all the way to the beach as early as they could go (read: as early as Kangin could wake up). The day progresses with plenty of frisbee on the sand, frolicking in the sea, and flirting at the food shacks. The ever present feeling that this may be the last time all of them are gathered together in a long time is never lost on any of them, so they make the most of every moment, earning them unheeded glares from the lifeguard on duty.
Sunset finds them around a small bonfire near the surf. To no one's surprise, Kangin managed to lift some beers from his parents, so they drink as they talk and watch the embers float up into the gradually darkening sky. Gone with the sun is the high energy from the day, leaving behind a calmer and more contemplative atmosphere.
Heechul speaks up after a comfortable stretch of silence. "So, I already know what those two fogies are doing come fall," he says while pointing to where Siwon and Shindong sit on opposite sides of the fire, "but what about you guys?" he directs towards Kangin and Kibum. "All I know is that college really isn't the cards for you."
Kibum ducks his head shyly. "I, uh, made it past the first round of auditions at MS Entertainment."
"WHAT?!" "Like, the MS Entertainment!?" "Um, when was this?!" "You're thinking of joining the entertainment industry?"
The last question surprisingly comes from Siwon, and the other guys shoot him a look. Siwon lifts his hands up in defense. "It's just that, Kibum, I've never even heard you sing."
Kibum shakes his head. "No, I wanna be an actor. I realised it after I missed out on auditions for the school play. For just a few hours a day, it'll be nice to pretend I'm not me. I think I could be really good at it if I got the chance." The guys nod, knowing very well how Kibum struggles to be and express himself without pretense.
"I can't wait to see you on TV one day, man," Shindong says with a smile. "If you book a commercial, I am buying one thousand units of whatever you're selling. I don't care what it is. I'll end up with a thousand pairs of jeans if I must," Kangin jokes.
Kibum grins appreciatively and nods towards Kangin in turn. "What about you, then?"
Kangin puffs out his chest with pride. "I'm gonna start at a baseball development camp out in Gangwon. If I work hard and play my cards right, I might get recruited at one of the farm teams in the Futures League. It would be awesome if I got into one of the Seoul clubs, just so I could stay close to home."
Shindong smirks. "Okay, let's say you had to go to a southern team. Which one would you pick? 1, 2, 3…"
"The Dinos."
Heechul barks out a laugh. "If you think I'd go all the way to fuckin' Changwon just to see your sorry ass… Well, a bitch might."
Siwon quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What is the self-proclaimed biggest star in the universe, the Great Kim Heechul, doing instead?"
"Whatever it takes, man," Heechul says with a snort. "I'll get some part time jobs here, travel a little there… Just figure life out as it comes."
Kibum nods, well-acquainted with Heechul's myself-against-the-world attitude. Shindong, for his part, tries his best to offer a smile without looking pitying. He can't help but feel like Heechul is making his life harder for himself than it has to be—but now's not the time, and neither is he the person, for that conversation.
Kangin counters, "You might find yourself in Gyeongsang anyway then, hyung."
"Yeah; and if you were paying attention to me, you would have known I acknowledged that already, dumbass. Clean the wax outta your ears."
"How about I clean your clock instead!" Kangin yells as he launches at Heechul, and they start wrestling in the sand.
Shindong watches, reveling in the familiarity of the moment, and thinks about how close he was to not having any of this. "When I first moved here, I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the school year alone." The words come out of his mouth without prompting; but now that they're out, he finds he actually has something to say.
The boys turn their attention to him, Kangin and Heechul halting their bickering and sitting in place where they found themselves on the sand, and Shindong continues. "You know. I was the new kid, I was only able to afford the school because of my scholarship, I'm fat. If life were like a TV show, that wouldn't have been the most successful combination of factors." He quirks the corners of his lips up in a wane half-smile, then turns his gaze from the fire to the earnest faces of his friends. "But I met you guys, and nothing happened like I thought it would. Thanks for giving me a chance."
"Aish," Kangin says as he gets up and moves back towards the group. He stops behind Siwon and places a hand on his shoulder. "Don't thank us; thank this guy. He texted us one day all, 'I invited the new kid to sit with us at lunch tomorrow. Try not to be dicks.' If it weren't for him, I probably would have pushed you into the lockers once or twice just for fun."
"I probably would have helped," Kibum says with a shrug.
"I probably would have filmed it," Heechul pipes up.
Siwon waves their comments away with good humour. "You guys aren't that mean. Maybe you would have slapped the books out of his hands, but that's really it."
"Maybe we aren't mean now, but that's because you made us soft. Remember when I made Go-seonsaengnim cry in freshman year just with a glare?"
The conversation readily turns to their early high school memories, which Shindong would normally have loved hearing about, but his attention is elsewhere.
The dim light afforded by the fire casts impermanent shadows on Siwon's face that alternately highlight his boyish features and give him the appearance of a grown man. Shindong watches this and feels like he's seeing the present blurring into the future before his very eyes, and he finds it especially poignant that Siwon is the focal point of that illusion considering his role in changing Shindong's own life.
He's going to miss his friends and the gentle feeling of home he managed to cultivate for himself among them, but at least he won't have to miss Siwon.
~~~
College is harder than Shindong thought it would be, but it's easier in other ways too. He plays the first semester safe (he's not trying to get his scholarship revoked before the first year is over, thank you very much); but when the second semester comes around, he knows what liberties he can take with himself to have more fun without sacrificing his studies.
So when the volleyball team holds a party and invites the basketball team, Siwon offers his plus one to Shindong, and he double-checks that he doesn't have a shift at the campus mailroom the next day… well, he doesn't say no.
It isn't the first time he's gotten drunk (there's no way you could be in Siwon's friend group for a year without sustaining at least one hangover); but after a whole semester and winter of working and studying practically non-stop, the lack of inhibitions feels better than it ever had before.
Siwon is far more drunk, however. He is as clingy as ever, introducing Shindong to all of his basketball friends (and even some strangers) and constantly slurring "I miss youuu" into his ears.
He would hate it except he loves it. He misses the guy, too, after all.
"Shindong! Let's go see the stars!"
Siwon drags Shindong to the backyard of the house holding the party, no less noisy but definitely less crowded. He happily settles down onto one of the logs around an unlit bonfire and pats the space next to him in a clear invitation. The happy grin on his face is replaced with a pout when Shindong decides to sit on a different log just to tease him, but that doesn't stop him. Siwon just moves to Shindong's log and cuddles into his friend's side, enjoying the warm feeling spreading inside him. Is it the beer or the company? In any case, it's the most cosy he's felt since school started.
Siwon chances a glance upwards at Shindong. Not for the first time, he cannot help but notice how soft the other looks in the moonlight. His cheeks always look so fluffy and pinchable, but Siwon has never wanted to hold Shindong's face more than he does right now.
When he notices that Shindong notices that he is looking at him, Siwon is just drunk enough to hold his gaze.
Siwon is just drunk enough to move his face forward, as slow as the movement ends up being. Maybe that's because he's drunk, too. He's definitely not sober enough to stop.
Then he's drunk in a different way, because Shindong is the one to bring their lips together.
The moment is perfect, even more perfect than Siwon had ever dreamed of—and oh, did he dream. In the back of his mind, he thinks about going to church three times a week from now on to thank God for this blessing.
He wants to deepen the kiss, he wants to lean closer, he wants to touch—but just as he thinks about doing any of that, Shindong pulls away with a giggle. Siwon laughs too, giddy and uninhibited as he is. He reaches for Shindong's hand and wonders how long the other has felt the same way as he did.
The hand for which Siwon had been reaching escapes to throw a bro-y, friendly punch into Siwon's shoulder. Siwon is mildly confused, but nothing can wipe the smile from his face now. He just kissed Shindong! Is right now too soon to be calling each other boyfriends?
"That wasn't so bad, right?" Shindong says as he looks back up at the sky.
Uh, right. Understatement of the century. That was amazing, stupendous, earth-shattering, future-defining—
Shindong keeps talking. "Not exactly how I thought that was gonna happen, but there's no planning for these sorts of things anyway. What's college for if not experimenting and cutting loose?"
Siwon's lovestruck internal monologue stutters to a stop. "What?"
"Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest guy I know—full stop—but if kissing you doesn't make me feel something, then I definitely must be straight." Shindong starts cackling then, like he said the funniest joke in the world.
Siwon's hearing fails him, but all he can think about now is how badly he wants to rewind time.
He wants to go back to before he knew what Shindong's lips felt like.
He wants to go back to before he had the first drink.
He wants to go back to before he even met Shindong.
"I gotta go," he manages to say, crushed as he is under the weight of the guilt he felt when that last thought traitorously passed through his head.
Shindong laughs harder when he watches Siwon stumble away. Poor guy must be so drunk. He might not even make it to the bathroom in time.
~~~
Avoiding Shindong isn't as hard as one would think. They're different majors. They live in different residence halls. He has the basketball team too, and Shindong was never the kind of person that keeps up with all his friends' activities anyway. A little "Sorry, I'm meeting someone for a project" here, a little "Sorry, Coach is slamming us with extra practise" there, and a whole semester passes by without spending extended time with his best friend and—he's not afraid to say it now—the love of his young life.
And that's exactly why he needs to avoid Shindong. He can't face Shindong casually right now—not when the only thing that will be occupying his mind is the look on Shindong's face immediately before, not when his palms itch to touch the other's cheeks so he can fold that feeling into his memory. He can't know what it's like to kiss Shindong and not be able to kiss him again.
So he's depressed, he's lonely, and he's irritable—exactly the kind of mindset you want to be in when you meet someone new.
"Hi, I don't think we really talked before," the lanky kid says as he stands up straight from where he was leaning beside the open door to Siwon's room. "I'm Hyukjae, but my friends call me Eunhyuk. I live down the hall." He points over his shoulder with his thumb as if Siwon didn't know which hall he was referring to, and the gesture immediately gets on his nerves.
Siwon glares at him, and the guy—Hyukjae; they're not friends—smiles a wide, gummy grin. "Sorry to bother you like this, but I noticed you were taking your stuff to your car. Are you packing your things into storage for the summer?" Siwon nods mutely, unsure where the other is going with this and approximately three seconds away from blowing him off.
"Listen, I have, like," he pauses to rummage around in his pockets and count the pieces of paper he pulls out, "10000 won on me right now. If I give you that and pay for gas and—I don't know—buy you dinner afterwards, would you help me move mine into storage too?"
Siwon's glare turns incredulous, which makes Hyukjae facepalm. "Oh! And of course I would help you move your stuff. That's a given. Although… you certainly don't look like you need the help."
At this last statement, Eunhyuk gives him a quick once over, and Siwon bristles. This whole situation is really grating on him. Why did this guy look at him like that? Why does it bother him that he did? Why is he supremely against this mildly reasonable request?
(Well, he knows why, and that's only adding to his frustration.)
Hyukjae senses how close Siwon is to turning tail, so he resorts to drastic measures. "Bro, help me out," he begs as he clasps his hands and falls to his knees. "I live all the way out in Ilsan, and I don't have a car. I would be, like, super indebted to you!"
"Ilsan isn't that far away," Siwon points out unimpressedly.
"Indebted!"
He stares at the boy's pout, the hands grasping cumbled bills of won, and the mullet-esque hair and thinks he might actually be more pathetic than even Siwon feels these days.
"... Alright."
Siwon ignores the other's resulting cheers as he returns to his task. He figures that the sooner he gets this over with, the faster he can go back home for the summer.
~~~
Like Siwon said, Ilsan isn't that far away.
As in, he and Hyukjae didn't have the worst time together while moving their stuff, Hyukjae decided they are now friends, and Hyukjae commutes into Seoul every other weekend to pester Siwon into hanging out with him.
In the beginning, he had no problems brushing the other off. Hyukjae isn't bad people necessarily, but he's a brat.
Case in point: The first time he actually agreed to hang out, Hyukjae forgot his wallet and Siwon begrudgingly paid for their excursions that day. Hyukjae hasn't brought his wallet with him since.
After that first time, however, it became harder and harder to turn Hyukjae down. He's depressed, he's lonely, he's irritable—but somehow none of that has pushed Hyukjae away yet. Against his better judgement, Siwon cannot help but be drawn to the individual who is experiencing the worst Siwon has to offer and chooses to spend time with him anyway. It's… nice.
The summer proceeds like that: Eunhyuk having a new hare-brained adventure haphazardly planned for the day, Siwon's wallet finding itself thousands of won lighter each time, and Siwon slowly getting out of his funk and coming back to himself.
Even as the summer draws to a close and their event options dwindle down, Eunhyuk manages to find something for them to do. A couple of weeks before they're set to move back in for the beginning of the next school year, Eunhyuk takes Siwon to a trendy new pop-up cafe in Itaewon.
Siwon likes it. It's lively but not too loud, the food isn't half bad, and the interior is fresh-looking without being overly cute.
He doesn't say any of this though, mostly because Eunhyuk isn't really saying anything either.
It's a testament to how much he feels like his old self again that he strongly considers asking the other what's wrong. Old Siwon wouldn't have hesitated. New Siwon rationalises if something is really bothering the other, Eunhyuk would say something himself.
He's halfway through his cheesecake when Eunhyuk lets his fork clatter to his plate. "Siwon, there's never gonna be a good time or a good way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. I like you."
Well, of course Eunhyuk likes him. He basically spent the whole summer with Siwon. The surprising part here is that Siwon means it when he says, "I like you, too."
Eunhyuk's eyes do something funny, then he shakes his head. "No, like—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and on the exhale he says, "Wanna go on a date with me?"
"... Oh."
And then Siwon's senses shift. His heart beat speeds up just a fraction more than it had been before Eunhyuk began talking, but he can't hear the crowd of the cafe anymore. Everything behind Eunhyuk's determined, hopeful face blurs into a mess of colours and light. When he swallows, he still has the aftertaste of the strawberry syrup from the cheesecake on his tongue.
"Um, okay," is all he says, but he can feel his lips tug upward in a small grin without his direction.
Siwon is greeted with a gummy smile, familiar yet new, and he cannot help but focus in on the revealed shade of pink.
~~~
Honestly, he forgets about Siwon.
There's only so many times he can get blown off before he stops trying to reach out in the first place, you know? Then midterms came around, then it was finals season, then he was too wrapped up in trying to find an on-campus job for the summer so that he wouldn't have to waste money and time moving out of his residence hall… Before he knows it, it's been a year since he and the guys had their beach day, and he uncomfortably realises he can't remember the last time he spoke to Siwon. Was it at that party in the beginning of last semester? That can't be right.
And yet, for a reason he cannot explain, he doesn't immediately reach out to Siwon first.
He starts off with Kangin, who hasn't made it to a team yet but has met with several scouts already and believes it's just a matter of time. Heechul answers him in English, of all things, and he has to use a translation app to find out that Heechul spent seven months in Australia as a freelance Hangul-speaking museum guide before coming back to South Korea to work at a brewery out in Jeju-do. When he texts Kibum asking if Kangin had made good on his promise to buy 100 units of whatever his latest commercial was selling, Kibum simply says, "lol."
Finally, the only one left is Siwon. Shindong is weirdly anxious to talk to him again, but he firmly pushes that aside.
He tries a text at first; but after two days with no response, he ups the ante.
"Hello?"
"Siwon-ah!" he cheers into the receiver. It had been so long since he heard Siwon's voice, and just the sound of it lifts his mood.
"Shindong-hyung, you called me." Siwon's voice sounds incredulous, and it makes him laugh. They're not people for phone calls, admittedly. It wasn't necessary back when they spent almost all their waking moments together.
"Hey, if you had just texted me back, I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures."
Silence, then chuckles on the other end of the line. "Yeah, that one's on me, isn't it? I did that thing where I read it but only replied to it in my head."
Shindong waits for more, but Siwon doesn't continue from there. "So, um, what's been up with you lately?" he asks stiltedly. He frowns; he and Siwon don't do small talk. He tries again, "Did I mention I'm on campus for the summer? I got a job as the front desk guy at the Alumni Office. It has its boring moments, but at least I didn't have to move out of the dorms. I know some of the guys on my floor even rented a storage unit so that they wouldn't have to move back and forth with their stuff, which is just… so far beyond my budget right now, haha."
Siwon makes a funny noise like he choked on his own spit. "Siwon?!" Shindong calls concernedly into the line.
"It's fine, hyung," Siwon croaks out. "Listen, you kinda caught me at a bad time. I'd love to talk more, but I gotta go."
"Oh, sure," Shindong says in surprise. "See you when the school year starts up again, yeah?"
He holds onto the phone tightly. He doesn't know what he's wanting to hear exactly, but he waits in anticipation for Siwon's response anyway.
"Yeah, of course. See you later, Shindong."
The line clicks silent, and Shindong doesn't let himself read into it. Like Siwon said, it was just a bad time.
~~~
The new school year isn't terribly different from the previous one, but Siwon likes what it brings. He's still balancing the basketball team and classes, but he has Eunhyuk now. Eunhyuk introduces him to his best friend Donghae, and college starts feeling less like something happening to him and more like something he's living.
Early into the new semester finds the three of them grabbing lunch on campus, Siwon and Eunhyuk playing footsie under the table and ignoring Donghae's gags in the background. They're not really talking about anything important, so the conversation is easily derailed by the sound of someone hollering from across the student union.
"Siwon! Ya, Siwon!"
Siwon temporarily freezes. He didn't expect to hear that voice again so soon. He can feel his face do something funny as his body and his mind fight for control over what to do. He wants to play it cool; he wants to ignore the voice; but more than anything, he wants to see Shindong again. He has ever since the summer.
He listens to that part and turns around in his seat to wave. The sight of Shindong's eyes scrunched up in happy half-moons behind his thick-rimmed glasses makes his heart ache even as his body relaxes from tension he didn't know he was carrying. He misses Shindong.
"Siwon, you brat! I didn't hear from you much this summer, and I barely saw you last semester!" Shindong laughs jovially before turning to the other two at the table, and Siwon is surprised to remember they were there. "Hey, I'm Donghee, but you've probably heard this guy call me Shindong. Mind if I join you?"
Siwon eagerly motions for Shindong to grab a chair, and Donghae says, "Hey, Donghee. I'm Donghae." as if it were the most clever observation in the world.
Siwon eyes Shindong's politely amused grin and cannot help but laugh. God, he forgot how funny Shindong could be even when he isn't trying. The other brings a seat over to their table and chats pleasantly with Donghae, and Siwon takes the moment to take in the changes in his best friend.
His face is slightly less pudgy, but the puffy round cheeks Siwon loves so much are fully on display. He has a tiny ponytail sticking straight up from the crown of his fluffy hair, and it reminds Siwon of elementary schoolers on picture day in a way that warms his heart. He notices the suspenders and khakis combination that the other is wearing and remembers how hard it was for Shindong to get used to not having to wear a uniform to school anymore. It seems he finally settled on something that worked for him, as nerdy as it ended up looking. (Somehow, that is endearing, too.)
"Siwon, what's your weekend look like? We should do something, just you and me. Grab some newspapers, eat gyoza, catch up. You in?"
Siwon would like nothing more and almost automatically agrees. Luckily, before he could land himself in hot water with his excitement, his brain supplies that he and Eunhyuk were supposed to picnic in the park this weekend. He flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend, asking without words if he could go.
Eunhyuk nods, so Siwon says yes, and it feels like a piece of him that was asleep finally wakes up.
~~~
They're best friends again in no time.
Sure, there were some awkward instances when Shindong or Siwon would refer to memories that the other wasn't there for in a stilted reminder that there is time lost between them, but they easily catch each other up and fall back into old habits. Their lives intertwine in the seamless way they did back in high school, and Siwon's heart feels so full.
He can't help but ignore the red flags as a result. The more active he and Shindong are in each other's lives, the more he is aware of the fact that Shindong does not know the full extent of his relationship with Eunhyuk; and he admits he has made small—inconsequentially, really—concessions to keep it that way.
He's starting to suspect that Eunhyuk knows something is up, too. It brings him a little bit of guilt, but it's not like he's completely avoiding his boyfriend (been there, done that). Besides, the other hasn't said anything. He even invites Siwon over one weekend, so Siwon figures he probably hasn't messed up too badly yet.
When cuddling on the bed with legs intertwined while watching a movie turns into roaming fingertips and forgotten laptops droning on in the background, Siwon feels content like never before.
"Why does it feel like it's been forever since I kissed you?" he murmurs into Eunhyuk's hair afterwards, planting a kiss right there and embracing his boyfriend closer to his chest. He'd love to fall asleep like this…
But then Eunhyuk gently releases himself from Siwon's hold and sits upright in bed. "I have a feeling it has to do with how Donghee is hanging out with us a lot now," he says as he pulls his clothes back on.
Siwon's disappointment clears when his mind, unbidden, conjures up the memory of Shindong's reaction when he caught Heechul rounding second base with his date when they all went to the movies together one time. "Yeah, Shindong isn't big on PDA," he says as he follows Eunhyuk's lead.
"Sure, but I'm your boyfriend," Eunhyuk emphasises. "Hand-holding, kissing… stuff like that is pretty typical for most couples. He knows what he would be getting into when he hangs out with us, and he still shows up. Doesn't seem to me like it would really bother him."
Siwon's movement falters. So Eunhyuk has noticed. "I guess I'm just trying to be a little courteous," he hurries to say, the not-quite-a-lie sitting heavy on his tongue. "He doesn't know you yet, and I don't want to give my best friend any reason to dislike my boyfriend."
Siwon puts on his most convincing, disarming grin, and it somehow makes things worse. "You know, it's funny," Eunhyuk begins with light tone absolutely lacking in amusement, "Donghee's supposedly your best friend, but I haven't even heard of him before this semester. It's clear he hasn't heard of me either. Wanna explain why?"
Siwon frowns at the accusation. "He is my best friend." He may not have acted like it for a while there, but that fact will never change. It's just… "We weren't really, ah, talking much at around the time you and I met." He wants to stop there, but Eunhyuk raises an expectant eyebrow. "Um, remember that time in the student union? That was, sorta, the first time we had spoken in eight months."
The admission completely melts all of Eunhyuk's cold and angry tension, and the sight makes him even more antsy for some reason. Siwon is acutely aware that he didn't answer the entirety of his boyfriend's question, but the other is already moving on.
"You get why I'm bothered, right?" Eunhyuk asks as he sits back on the bed, and yes, Siwon does finally start to get how bothered the other really is. He's never seen Eunhyuk so despondent before. His entire being radiates tired sadness, and Siwon realises with a pang that he did that to him."This guy that I've never met before just shows up one day, and my boyfriend starts acting completely different around him!" Eunhyuk's pout has a chilling effect on Siwon without the hint of flirtation to which he was so accustomed, and Siwon has him wrapped up in a side-hug as if on autopilot. Eunhyuk happily cuddles into the embrace and lays his head on Siwon's shoulder, but Siwon barely notices, too consumed by the weight spreading all over his body.
He's fucked up.
He hasn't been going about this correctly at all, and it's hurting his boyfriend, and that hurts him, and he's fucked up.
He stands abruptly. "I gotta go."
"What?"
Siwon can barely hear the shocked hurt in his boyfriend's voice, he's so preoccupied with the immense and all-consuming guilt that weighs down his limbs. He can't get out of the apartment fast enough. He needs space; he needs more room so that terrible feeling that is expanding within him has somewhere else to go.
"Siwon, where are you going?!" Eunhyuk hurries after him and manages to intercept Siwon before he could open the door. If he were more himself, he'd chuckle at how his boyfriend, 9 centimetres shorter and 5 kilograms lighter, is trying to bodily prevent him from leaving; but in his state, even a feather could knock Siwon over.
"There's something you're not telling me, and I'm not letting you leave the apartment until you do. What is going on between you and Donghee?" he demands.
"Nothing!" Siwon despairs, and it's the truth.
"Why are you lying to me!"
"I've never lied to you," and that is also the truth.
"But you are keeping something from me." There's nothing Siwon can say to that, so he fidgets where he stands. Eunhyuk laughs mirthlessly. "And it's related to Donghee, too, isn't it? How long did you think you could go without telling me, huh? Did you think I wouldn't notice?!"
Siwon is still in flight mode, his brain is still foggy, so he latches onto the only coherent thought he has just so that he can respond to Eunhyuk. "Why don't you call him Shindong?"
Eunhyuk seizes in incredulous frustration. "Can you focus!? That is so beyond the point!"
Siwon closes his eyes and rubs his hands down his face in resigned acknowledgement. Yes, that was the wrong thing to say. "Hyuk, I'm sorry but… I really, really have to go. I need some time; I need to think. You deserve better than the first thought that pops into my head, but I can't give you that right here, right now."
Eunhyuk's shiny eyes are devastating even under the fluorescent glare of his apartment lights, and Siwon's heart urges him to do something. He steps forward, arms outstretched, but Eunhyuk steps out of his reach. "No, please," he says simply. He hastily wipes away the tears that pool at the rim of his eyes and looks anywhere but at Siwon. "When you touch me, I feel better even when I don't want to."
Siwon lets his arms fall back to his side. The need to leave wars with his need to comfort, so he does nothing.
Eunhyuk sniffles once, twice, then says, "Whenever something happens to me—big or small, bad or good—you've become the first person I wanna tell it to. Nothing feels real until I've told you about it." He hugs himself and turns away. "But you don't even want to talk to me."
Eunhyuk walks back to his room and lightly closes the door behind him, a silent cue for Siwon to leave. When he finally does several moments later, the image of Eunhyuk rejecting his touch replays in his mind, and his heart rebels with every step.
~~~
With time and distance, Siwon realises a lot of things about himself.
He's always wanted his first real relationship to be with someone he shared a lot with, someone he didn't have to force himself to spend time with or get to know, someone who made it all easy yet made the difficult parts worth it. He admits to himself that he always wanted his first real relationship to be with Shindong, but that evidently wasn't possible. Just when he had given up on that dream (and on himself), he found all of it and more in Eunhyuk, who literally showed up unannounced, bribed his way into Siwon's life, and pestered Siwon into letting him stay. Without knowing any of the details and without asking any questions, Eunhyuk managed to shake Siwon out of the depressive episode he was in simply by being himself. The warm excitement that coloured their days together were noted but taken for granted, and the cold emptiness that replaces it in the aftermath of their fight is frighteningly familiar. He regrets that it took the undeniable pain that can only come from heartbreak for him to realise that he had fallen in love with Eunhyuk, but at least he knows now.
He also now knows he's a coward.
He was a coward back in senior year when he couldn't tell Shindong why he asked the other to prom, he was a coward last semester when he cut Shindong out of his life for accidentally breaking his heart, and he's a coward now.
With Shindong is back in his life, Siwon thought he could somehow keep both his past love and his current love in the exact ways he wanted them without having to have any uncomfortable conversations, that the two of them would get along fabulously, and that Siwon's happiness would simply fall into place.
He also now knows he's an idiot.
Siwon has always prided himself on being a man of action. He had enough time and distance to reflect, recalibrate, and reload, so it is time for him to gather his courage and react.
He texts Shindong to do homework together at his place then immediately goes out to buy some food just to have something to do with the nervous energy that buzzes within him. He even buys snacks that he knows only Shindong likes because he needs every advantage he can get. He returns with no less pent-up energy than with which he started, so he sets to cleaning the whole apartment. He even attempts to do his homework to distract himself before he remembers homework is the ruse he told Shindong to lure the other over.
His nervous energy is apparent the second Shindong steps foot in the apartment. "Okay…" Shindong drags out as he plops his stuff onto the kitchen table that doubles as Siwon's desk. "Is there a major exam you're freaking out about or something? I can't promise I know anything, but I can promise to help you study."
Siwon lets a ghost of a smile cross his face, fondly remembering their intense study sessions back in high school that none of their friends were brave enough to join more than once. The memory passes, and he sighs. "No, it's not about class."
Shindong gestures. "Well? Out with it then. You know I'm just gonna leave if you're not gonna focus, and I really don't want to leave when there's an unopened pack of honey apple twists right there."
Honey apple twists are also Eunhyuk's favourite, so Siwon starts there.
"Eunhyuk is a man of questionable taste," Shindong pontificates as he munches on the newly opened snack. "He loves honey apple twists but hates seafood. He's best friends with Donghae but spends all his free time with you. What an enigma."
Siwon tries to chuckle, but it doesn't work. He takes a deep breath instead. He can't think of anything else to say except: "I think he's in love with me."
Shindong stops chewing. "What?"
"I think Eunhyuk and I spend a lot of time together because he's in love with me."
Shindong frowns, brows furrowed and looking genuinely upset. It takes Siwon aback for long enough that he gets distracted. "What?" he parrots.
"Dude, that's fucked up."
"What are you talking ab—"
"You can't just string him along like that! What is he gonna do when he finds out you don't like guys? Bro, if Heechul were here right now—actually, I'm just gonna call him because maybe you need to hear why that's fucked up from someone who gets it."
And there it was.
Every unspoken fear he'd ever had, every answer to his heartbreak, every problem he never solved.
He reaches out with his head down and gently stops Shindong's hand, halfway to dialling their high school friend whom Siwon hasn't spoken to since graduation. "I love him, in any case," he says to the ground.
Shindong lets his hand hold his phone in midair. "What?"
Siwon takes a breath, counts to three, and lifts his head to look Shindong in the eyes. "Shindong, Eunhyuk and I are dating. He's my boyfriend. He has been since the summer."
Shindong says nothing.
"I'm gay," Siwon says at last, so easily, because he knows that's not going to be the hardest confession of the night.
As soon as he says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong's astute, masterful, beautiful mind.
"Is that why I haven't seen you since last semester," Shindong says instead of asks, "because you realised after our kiss and didn't want to tell me."
But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn't provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.
"No," Siwon says as he draws away, clasping his hands tight on his lap and wishing he could have told Eunhyuk he was gonna do this. He'd have said something to cheer Siwon up, and Siwon would remember that now, and it could give him courage. The only thing he has right now is the truth.
"No, that was because I was in love with you, and I realised you'd never love me back, and I needed time."
The silence that stretches out between them is awkward like no silence has ever been, even in the first few times they hung out again after reconnecting.
"For how long?" Shindong finally says.
Siwon tries to remember but finds he can't. It must have been one of those things that wasn't tied to any specific event, but a slow build until the whole of the structure was unmistakable. "Since the beginning, basically," he eventually settles on. "Not since the first day we met, no, but very, very close to it. I barely remember a time when I didn't know you and wasn't already in love with you."
"I see."
He finally looks at Shindong, who notices and meets his gaze for a moment before looking down at the table. In that one moment, Siwon could tell from Shindong's eyes that he can see now. He can tell the way Shindong is re-remembering every interaction they've ever had in a new light, and he simply waits. He has no more cards left to play.
Finally, Shindong looks back at him and says, "You should have told me. We should have talked about it. I could have been there for you."
Siwon smiles bittersweetly and looks away. "But not in the way I wanted you to be, and that's why I never said anything. No doubt, you would have absolutely been there. You would have been your funny, action-oriented, perfect self, within arms' reach but not mine for me to hold, and it would have broken me. Broken me worse than if you had dropped me as a friend completely."
Shindong is taken aback by the strength of Siwon's words, the seriousness with which he said them. "You must have been really in love with me."
Siwon turns the bittersweet smile to him then, tears shining in his eyes, and says, "So much. I loved you so much."
Shindong's heart breaks for his friend, his best friend, who suffered all alone and all on his account. He fiercely tugs Siwon into a hug and lets Siwon cry out every tear, every emotion, every everything from the last two years, all while murmuring "I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry" into his friend's shoulder.
"For what it's worth, I loved you, too. I still do," he says when Siwon's tears subside into sniffles, but the younger is still clinging onto him. Shindong won't let go until he does.
"I know. I know you did, do. Me too," Siwon hiccups out.
With one last squeeze, he pulls away to give Shindong a watery but bright-eyed smile, and Shindong gives him one right back. The clock in the kitchen tells him they were only like that for seven minutes, but in that time it feels like they just relived every day of their entire friendship, finally on the same page.
"I'm in the mood for pizza," he says abruptly, reaching for his phone forgotten on the table. "Do you still like pineapples with yours?"
Siwon chuckles while wiping away some latent tears. "Please, yes. Eunhyuk won't let me eat that around him because 'it's gross American food,'" he says with air quotes.
"Maybe Eunhyuk is a man of taste after all," Shindong says as he waits for the phone to ring. He catches Siwon's eye just to sneer, "What's he doing dating you?"
Siwon laughs, a whole-belly laugh, and gets a second wind when Shindong calmly rattles off Siwon's own credit card number for the payment information.
~~~
It's been almost two weeks since Eunhyuk last spoke to Siwon, the memory of his boyfriend's face as he begged for time haunting his undistracted moments. He's busied himself with dance practice, homework, and even once tried accompanying Donghae to the gym just to get his mind off of how much more lonely he feels. It was pretty bad before when Eunhyuk was convincing himself that the way his boyfriend was pulling away was all in his head, but with confirmation from Siwon himself, it just got so much worse.
Donghee—He's not about to start calling him by that ridiculous nickname. The only thing Donghee is good at, as far as he's concerned, is ruining his mood—first came into the picture like spilled paint across a canvas: completely and all at once where before there was none. He showed up at group hangouts and even tagged along to his and Siwon's casual day dates, sometimes at Siwon's own behest!
Siwon also didn't touch Eunhyuk as much when Donghee was around, which is saying something because Siwon is literally the clingiest man in all of South Korea. To have such a gentle, romantic, constant aspect of his relationship almost completely stop without explanation… Of course Eunhyuk was lonely. The only thing that stopped him from saying something sooner was how undeniably happy Siwon was with Donghee back in his life, and Eunhyuk didn't want to ruin that for him.
But now it seems like their whole relationship is ruined instead, and the idea that this is how it all ends makes him even more miserable.
It is during one of these pessimistic slumps that he gets a text from Siwon that he, Donghae, and Donghee are working on the quad together. Siwon signs it with "I miss you 😘," and Eunhyuk's heart clenches. He misses Siwon too, but he's not really in the mood to watch him and Donghee together.
He realises he's not really in the mood to be alone right now either. He considers texting Donghae to fake some emergency so that he could be with Eunhyuk, but Donghae texts him first. "don't bail i promise."
The fact that Donghae, the only one who happens to know the full extent of Eunhyuk's insecurities and worries about the situation, is the one saying that piques his interest. If Donghae thinks it'll be safe for him, Eunhyuk will trust that.
He sees them before they see him, and it plays out slowly like a movie. They're all sitting in a quasi-circle on the grass in the middle of a laugh. The scene is so picturesque, and the jealous pang in his chest rings loud and true.
He almost turns on his heel right then and there, but Siwon notices him before he can.
Siwon's smile is bright and free, and he makes grabby hands for Eunhyuk like he hasn't in a while. Eunhyuk's feet carry him forward without him telling them to, and he has a feeling that was his heart leading. Despite it all, next to Siwon is where he wants to be.
He settles into the space by Siwon with a little unease, which dissipates completely when Siwon shifts them so that Eunhyuk is between his open legs and Siwon is giving him a cosy backhug. As much as he wants nothing else, Eunhyuk fights the urge to lean in, acutely aware of Donghee's presence.
"Siwon-ah." Eunhyuk squirms. "I'm 'Siwon-ah' now, not 'Siwonnie?'" He can hear Siwon's pout even as the other squeezes Eunhyuk to himself tighter. He puts a little more effort into escaping Siwon's embrace, but Siwon simply uses his legs to lock him in.
Eunhyuk laughs; he can't help it. He wiggles as frantically as possible—not to actually get out of Siwon's hold, just to give him a hard time trying to hold on—and Siwon playfully bites his ear to get him to stop. Eunhyuk lets out a mock gasp, prepared to do something drastic, when all of a sudden they both tumble onto the grass.
Eunhyuk looks up to see Donghee calmly returning to his spot, acting like he did nothing wrong and ignoring how Donghae assaults his back with amusement. "I've wanted to do that for forever!" Donghae cackles.
In embarrassment, he begins to sit up, but Siwon doesn't let him, instead pulling Eunhyuk back down and on top of him. He looks for the reason why in Siwon's eyes, and Siwon just gives him a small smile before leaning up to brush his lips against Eunhyuk's. It was a soft little thing, but it calms him down nevertheless.
He folds his hands on Siwon's chest and rests his head on top of them, facing the side where the other two weren't sitting. "I thought Shindong isn't big on PDA," he repeats, keeping his voice neutral but loud enough for Siwon to hear. In this position, he can hear Siwon's heartbeat as he plays with the collar of Siwon's shirt. He doesn't know what to make of its calm and strong cadence when he knows the other can feel his own heart rate spike in nervousness.
"You're my boyfriend, though," Siwon maintains, echoing their conversation from a week before with the roles noticeably reversed.
Eunhyuk jerks his head up to face the other. He doesn't think Siwon has called him his boyfriend in front of Donghee yet before.
Siwon must see something in his face because he reaches up to hold one of the hands on his chest and squeezes twice. I'm sorry about that, it says. We'll talk about everything later. Eunhyuk nods, looking at Siwon with so much trust in his eyes that Siwon smiles the same wide, happy grin that made Eunhyuk fall for him in the first place.
With a louder voice, Siwon says, "Besides, Shindong's a big guy. He'll find it within him to get over it."
"YA! DID YOU JUST MAKE A FAT JOKE ABOUT ME?!"
Siwon winks at Eunhyuk before sitting them upright and into a more casual cuddle, Eunhyuk against Siwon's side and Siwon's arm across Eunhyuk's shoulder.
Eunhyuk ignores the ensuing banter between Siwon, Shindong, and Donghae, instead looking up to observe his boyfriend. Siwon's different again, but in a good way, he decides. For the first time since they met, Siwon looks completely unburdened, completely secure.
And yet he's still here, holding Eunhyuk to him like he used to, which means whatever Siwon let go of, it wasn't him.
Eunhyuk knows they still have to talk, that there’s a lot of explaining Siwon has to do and a lot of confused pain he has to work through, but he also knows there's time for that now. Siwon isn't going anywhere; and neither is he, for that matter.
He looks over at the other two across the way and muses that Shindong isn't going anywhere either, but he finds that's not such a problem anymore.
(Siwon's laugh breaks his concentration, and he notices that's different, too—better than before, even.)
In fact, he might even welcome it.
~~~
#super junior#super junior fanfiction#shinwon#sihyuk#siwon#shindong#eunhyuk#choi siwon#shin donghee#lee hyukjae#jaso*
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I apparently started a destiel!labyrinth!au a million years ago? And it’s not terrible?
Also, I don’t know what a Bowman Tree is but I’m intrigued by my thought process regarding it.
Also, I made a note of who’s who:
Sarah – Dean Winchester
Toby – Sam Winchester
Goblin King – Lucifer
Hoggle – Castiel
Inch-Worm – Balthazar
Ludo – Benny Lafitte
The Dueling Guards – Bobby Singer and Crowley
Sir Didimus – Gabriel
Everyone’s so horrendously in character that I can’t stop snickering.
The creature stared at Dean, blue eyes wide. “I understand now, why the Bowman took hold of you. You’re the human,” he stated, voice deeper than Dean had expected.
Still holding his plank, Dean nodded sharply. “Yeah? So?” He inched forward, muscles tight with strain. The thing might have pulled him out of that bloodthirsty tree but even in the short time he’d been in Lucifer’s playland, he knew he couldn’t trust it. If he could get close enough, he could stab it and run. Probably. God, he hoped its skin wasn’t made from iron or something equally annoying.
“You one of Lucifer’s dicks?”
The winged man across from him tilted his head like a bird, narrowing his eyes a bit as he did. “Dicks? Lucifer has only one penis. And it isn’t anthropomorphic.”
Startled by the blunt answer, Dean almost dropped his makeshift weapon. “Uh, no shit Sherlock,” he muttered, frowning.
“My name is Castiel, not Sherlock,” he replied bowing. The black wings at his back flared out gracefully before tucking in once more. “I apologize for the lack of introduction. My brothers and sisters were most curious of news regarding humans.” He smiled, clearly trying to appease Dean. “We don’t often see your kind here.”
Dean glanced around, still not lowering the wood in his hand. “Yeah, I figured that part out when the tree tried to eat me.”
Castiel approached him again but stopped as soon as Dean swung the stick toward him. “Apologies,” he murmured, holding up his hands. “I mean you no harm. You must understand that this world feeds off the energies of its master. Currently, that is Lucifer.” He half turned, pointing in the direction Lucifer himself had indicated after dropping Dean in the middle of this hellhole. “It is a living creature. It forms based on the fears and dreams of the creatures around it.”
Curious despite himself, Dean half-lowered his weapon. That … no way. Christ, no wonder Lucifer had seemed so smug after Dean had agreed to this stupid bullshit. “He controls it? So, he tells it what to do?” Five minutes ago, he’d never have asked such a question but, five minutes ago, he hadn’t almost been eaten by a tree and rescued by a man with wings. So … fuck it.
“Hm, no. Not entirely.” He pointed again toward Lucifer’s home. “In fact, he is as much at its whim as you and I. However, this land feeds on his presence. The presence of an ancient angel. As long as one of that line remains on the throne, it survives.”
“Hold the fuck up,” he snapped, eyes wide. “Did you say angel?”
“Of course.”
Dean waited but when Castiel stayed quiet, he lifted his brows as high as he could. “That’s … what? How the … what?” Seriously, his brain was going to explode. Just … exasperated Dean all over the damn place.
Castiel’s wings lifted, feathers fanning. Sunlight gleamed on the blue-black color. “I am an angel, human. We are a limited race here but this is our home.”
Clenching his jaw, fingers gripping his plank, Dean grunted, “Why isn’t God your leader?”
The angel’s blue eyes were blank. “God? Perhaps you mean the one who created us? Created this place?” His visage soured for a moment as he looked away. “Our Father left us here a long time ago. We have no name for him. Not one that is translatable.”
There was sorrow in Castiel’s voice. And anger. Dean, strangely, understood that all too well. “So he just up and ditched you? Put you in charge and walked?” Yeah, that sounded pretty damn familiar.
Castiel nodded. “In a way. Lucifer has led us since we woke here. He is our brother.” Something in the way he phrased the statement sat wrong with Dean. Brother wasn’t a term he wanted to use. But why he held back now was a story better for another time. The land was important as far as Dean was concerned; not brotherly sniping between giant winged human dicks.
His mind whirled as he rehashed their conversation. “Right. That’s a bunch of shit but … fuck it. Can’t deal with that right now.” He took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. Jesus, this was tiring. “So, if what you said is true, empty the chair, the place dies?”
And then there was that. Just when he thought this place couldn’t get any weirder. Giant life support system hooked to a massive dickhead? Yeah, that’s a great thing to learn.
Castiel nodded. “To simplify it; yes. It would take ages to die but it would cease to be, eventually. So we keep one of the ancient blood on the throne at all times.”
“But I’m going to kill him. I need to get my brother back.” He sneered. “Isn’t it in your best interests to stop me?”
Again the bird-head tilt. “I suppose, it would be the right thing.” He licked his lips. “But, no? There are others of ancient blood. I, myself, am one. We would find a replacement, if need be.” Castiel was holding something back given the hesitation in his voice but for now, given he had helped Dean, he was willing to overlook it.
Great; history lesson was over. Dean hefted the wood again. “Fine. So … thanks for smiting the tree back there but I’m kind of in a hurry so kindly fuck off.”
Castiel blinked. “I … I could help you?”
“Are you asking or offering?” Dean tossed back. He really didn’t need a tag-a-long in this endeavor. He just had to hike it to that dick’s home and get his little brother back. God only knew what Lucifer was doing to him right now. The very idea made his shoulders tense and splinters dig into his fingers.
Again that broad smile. “Offering, of course.”
Yeah … no. Dean shook his head. “Nope. Fine on my own, feathers. I don’t need one of you bastards spying on me to His Royal Dickness.”
“The title is highness, actually,” Castiel corrected blithely. “Though, we don’t heed such terms here. He’s merely considered our … leader.” He wrinkled his nose. “You seem quite obsessed with male anatomy.”
Dean wanted to be annoyed but it was strangely endearing how literal the birdman was taking him. Despite the situation, he found himself grinning a bit. “Uh, it’s a … nevermind. Cas, I don’t exactly care what you call him. He has my brother and I’m getting him back.”
He hadn’t even seen the guy move. In less than a second, Castiel had gone from being a few feet away to less than a handful of inches. His eyes were narrowed but it didn’t hide the brilliant blue. He didn’t seem particularly angry; just confused.
“Cas? Did you forget the rest of my name? Did the fight with the Bowman Tree make you ill? If you’ve forgotten, it’s Castiel.”
“Uh, nickname, Cas. You know … short.” He glanced at the plank he still held. Given the guy’s insane speed, he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be much in the way of weaponry. With an annoyed sigh, he tossed it, noting that Castiel relaxed when he did. His black wings fluffed once before settling again. “It’s easier to remember.”
“Hm.” Castiel nodded. “Very well. Do you also have a name?”
“Yeah. Dean.” He snorted. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it kind of isn’t. Lucifer stole my brother and then told me I have twenty-four hours to make it to his lair to get him back.” He swallowed, new nightmares of what waited for Sam swarming his head. “I just … this wasn’t what I wanted,” he muttered.
“Dean.” Castiel spoke his name as though cradling a gift. He smiled again. “Would you prefer to go by D? Short, yes?”
He did laugh then. “Uh, no. The short name thing is really only for longer names. So … like Matthew? You’d call him Matt. That kind of thing.”
Castiel, strangely, seemed disappointed. “Oh. I see.”
“You really have never seen a human before? Talked to one?”
“Not myself, no. I believe some of my brothers and sisters have. But not for many, many years.” He stared up into the sky, squinting. “It is … somewhat remote here. You have to intend to arrive.”
Figures. Dean scratched his head. “Yeah, got it.” He looked up to find Castiel watching him intently, the blue eyes tracking slowly along his face and body. Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted and pointed. “So? Do we go or what?”
“You’ll allow me to aid you?”
“Yeah, sure; first sign of trouble? I take your head off, though.” With what, he hadn’t figured out just yet. He still had his dad’s tactical knife in his boot but that wouldn’t do much more than poke a hole in the guy; if he could even be cut. Shit, this place officially sucked.
Castiel’s eyebrows lifted a moment before settling again. “You don’t trust me. Very well.” He took a few steps away from Dean and gestured toward the dirt road ahead of them. “I assure you, I mean no harm. If, however, you feel my presence is detrimental, you need only tell me and I will leave.”
Dean considered it. But then again, he was alone in this freakhole of a place. Knew nothing about it. Hell, the giant slimy tree had almost eaten him. What else waited? He stared ahead, barely able to make out the shape of Lucifer’s home. Sammy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t … this wasn’t what I meant. Wasn’t what I wanted. He sighed and began walking. “Yeah. Fine. Just … let’s go, all right? I need to get to Sam.”
#destiel!labyrinth!au#angel!castiel#i really like in fic where castiel is truly alien#that was apparently my intention with this given his lack of understanding shortened names#huh#maybe i'll continue#destiel#spn fic
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my GO fic recs
I’m going to put my faves here so I stop losing them (and also for Xy who asked ❤️).
Sorted by rating and then by length, NSFW ones under the cut.
Long-Term by idiopathicsmile
Gen, 1712 words
Take, for instance, the couple she’s consulting with this afternoon, for their upcoming October ceremony. Seemingly mismatched in every respect. The plump, fair-haired one looks like a parody of an absent-minded professor, as sketched by someone who didn’t bother to do much actual research; his clothes are so outdated it teeters on costume. He’s wearing a bow tie, and not in that reinvented hipster way. This is a bow tie unacquainted with the cycles of fashion, a bow tie that has never heard the word irony. His partner is a rangy, black-clad ginger in snakeskin boots. He has the look of a hungover rocker about him, and would somehow, even without the sunglasses he has fully committed to wearing indoors on a cloudy afternoon. He’s sprawled almost defiantly in his chair and keeps throwing dubious glances around Dr. Blackwell’s office, as though expecting a lightning bolt to strike him down for merely daring to be within spitting distance of a church.
all i need, darling, is a life in your shape by deadgreeks
Gen, 14243 words
After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.
-
Why? Aziraphale wanted to ask him, why millennia of the way things were, and now this? But while Crowley seemed to have little issue upending every unspoken rule they’d ever written for themselves, Aziraphale was not so flexible, and they had spent thousands of years never quite addressing whatever it was this had stemmed from. Words, Aziraphale had always felt, were for bickering about where to eat for lunch, or hashing out ontological debates, or other trivial nonsense; there was no need to trifle with the imprecision of language, with phrasing and the possibility of being misconstrued, when it came to important matters if the other person simply understood, without needing it said. Six thousand years ago, when Aziraphale had met Crowley on the wall of Eden, watching the first two humans set out to begin the rest of history, something deep within him, more central even than his Grace, had thought, oh, it’s you, and that had been enough for him--for both of them, he assumed--for three millennia. However much he wanted to ask, he didn’t know how. The words simply weren’t there.
[My notes: I never gave a shit about the meaning of flowers BEFORE.]
The Nesting Habits of Angelus Principalum by obaewankenope
No rating, 5453 words
“Angel,” Crowley draws out, dragging the word along behind him as he somehow manages to emulate a snakes slithering while in human form along the north corridor—between the shelves with books on space and science-fiction—looking at their contents suspiciously. “Is that—it—is that a 3D model of the moon? How—where did you even get that?” Aziraphale bounces a little on the balls of his feet. “I do know how to use the internet dear,” he says, somewhat proudly. “I even have accounts on a handful of websites not dedicated to books.”
The Orchard by liesmyth
Mature, 2581 words
Crowley always had an affinity for apples.
Or: Crowley eats some fruit, tempts an angel, and gets more than he bargained for.
First Feast by reserve
Mature, 3636 words
“Do you feel different?” Aziraphale asked. His gaze was intent, flicking between Crawly’s mouth and eyes. He was twisting his plump, fruit-reddened fingers in the folds of his robe like he couldn’t manage to keep still. He was squirming. “Give us another taste,” he whispered.
Crawly dropped the forbidden fruit. Crawly lunged for him.
Penance by Blissymbolics
Mature, 5910 words
And for a while, it’s enough.
It’ll happen, Crowley tells himself. This time, it’ll finally happen.
Through Every Door by darlingred1
Mature, 15328 words
What would it hurt, really? It wasn’t like Crowley had anything better on. No more orders, no more quotas, no more Arrangement. Aziraphale would never have to know.
“Wonderful. I’m the demon on my own shoulder.”
And he’d lost his angel, hadn’t he? All he had left were thoughts, memories…fantasies. And he had a very good imagination.
(After thwarting the end of the world, Aziraphale begins to avoid Crowley, and Crowley accidentally awakens his own repressed lust.)
My notes: that's a lot of words but I only noticed once I was DONE reading.
Part and Parcel by sabinelagrande
Explicit, 2576 words
Aziraphale catches Crowley off guard.
Taking the liberty by CartWrite
Explicit, 3463 words
After swapping bodies (but before their respective sides come for them), Aziraphale spends the night in Crowley's flat trying to figure out how to talk, walk, and be convincing as Crowley. Trouble is, he's such a convincing Crowley, he starts to convince himself to... well. Things get out of hand.
The Weight of Well Tailored Clothes by reserve
Explicit, 5097 words
After the crêpes, Crowley helps Aziraphale get his clothing back. Then he helps a bit more.
bent to the very earth by Ark
Explicit, 5634
Use me, please, Crowley had said, so Aziraphale takes him at his word.
A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone
Explicit, 5867 words
"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."
[My notes: everyone and their mom has read this fic. I'm recommending it anyway.]
Moving Furniture by LittleLynn
Explicit, 6393
It was strange, Aziraphale’s bookshop had not burned down - though that was not what was strange, given all that had happened in the past week his bookshop miraculously un-incinerating itself barely even registered. No, what was strange, was that Aziraphale’s bookshop was still standing and yet somehow he found himself staying at Crowley’s place anyway.
Born Of Frustration by juliet
Explicit, 7599 words
“I want you!” Crowley shouts back. “I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, angel, and don’t try to pretend you don’t know that. I want you, and I want you to make up your fucking mind. I am done with hanging around waiting for you to decide.”
Crowley has had enough.
Spin Cycle by surveycorpsjean
Explicit, 7793 words
All their roads have led them here.
[My notes: 🔥🔥🔥 also poetic.]
You, Soft and Only by thehoyden
Explicit, 9400 words
He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.
“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.
[My notes: I CRY. Possibly my most favourite.]
All Things Considered by emmagrant01
Explicit, 10135 words
The world hadn’t ended and neither had they, but something had definitely changed.
[My notes: Crowley gets a KITTEN.]
#good omens#tbh if you read these and then read mine#you can see what I'm trying to do and constantly missing the mark L M F A O#but if Crowley can submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known and survive it#SO CAN I#(I'm being dramatic I'm alright about the things I write)#probably going to update this if I come across more#there's LOTS of great fics out there it's so hard to choose just a few#good omens fic recs#otp: ineffable#ineffable husbands
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This fucking episode, you guys
I wasn’t going to make a post like this for this ep originally, but...I went through the clips of this episode, and two scenes in particular wouldn’t leave my mind - the one where Gabriel pins Loki, and the one where he yells at the boys.
Also, a head up; this is probably going to turn into a long ass post, so buckle your seat belts and bring the popcorn and soda with you.
So, starting chronologically
(That’s not the gif I had in mind, but it’ll have to do)
In this particular scene, Dean (and Sam, but mostly Dean) are antagonizing Gabriel, giving him shit for not staying and helping them take Lucifer down. This is the converstion that follows;
Gabriel: “I call that art- but yes, without me, you two chuckleheads never would’ve known how to throw Lucifer back in the cage.”
Dean: “But instead of giving us a hand, you ran. And you just did it again when you ditched us in the bunker.”
Gabriel: “I have more important things to do than to join your little band of merry men.”
Dean: “What you’re doing, this, this is not important.”
And THIS is when Gabriel snaps, his anger, his frustration, his TRAUMA evident in the next few sentences (while all the Gabriel fangirls such as myself were crying hysterically);
Gabriel: “Everyday, Asmodeus tortured me. EVERY. DAY! He fed off my grace for years - he used me, he DEBASED me until I was-”
He then cuts off, looking over at Sam. We then see the “on the brink of tears jaw clenching™” that we often see in Dean (seriously, you guys. I could make an entire post about how many attributes these two share). Anyway, Gabriel continues with this;
“What I went through...you don’t forgive.”
The camera then flips to Dean, who is staring at Gabriel with what I interpret as a look of mistrust. He then goes on to say, “Everyone that had a hand in it, will die. Get me?”
This is particularly important, because Dean’s next words combat this point.
Dean: “Alright, you went through it. We get it. But killing Loki - not gonna change any of that. It’s not. In fact, it’s probably not even gonna make you feel better.”
To which Gabriel replies with “Well, agree to disagree, Dean-o.” (love that nickname XD)
Anyway, there are a couple different things I want to point out about this scene;
Dean’s comment on this little mission of his “not being important” is what sets Gabriel off. It may not be important to Dean, but the comment about him “getting it” seems like bullshit after he basically shot down Gabriel’s idea of self recovery. Sure, it may not help Gabriel in the grand scheme of things, as he well knows, but...it’s the first step to truly healing himself, and I don’t think Dean gets that, which absolutely pisses me off to no end.
As @flamerush101 has pointed out multiple times, he stops yelling and calms down somewhat WHEN HE LOOKS AT SAM. He looks concerned and slightly scared of/for Gabriel. I also think part of it was not wanting to break down in front of them, but THE SABRIEL IN THIS EP, Y’ALL.
One word Gabriel used really stuck out as odd to me. When he says “He debased me”, I had to stop and process for a minute. Now, I didn’t actually have the best idea of what the word meant at the time, but keep in mind; this is coming from the guy who says ‘superdoops’ and ‘raspberries’ in the same episode. Gabriel has NEVER really used words that are too far off the radar of basic language and slang. I was curious, so I looked up what it meant. the general idea is, “reduce something/someone in quality or value; degrade.”. you know what some of the synonyms were? degrade, demean, disgrace, shame, damage. Honestly, i can’t tell if this is the writers trying to keep it as vague as possible, or if its Gabriel trying to steer clear of the details of what happened to him. either way, I felt I had to point this out, so you can all cry with me.
Okay, moving on.
So they agree to help him if he helps them afterwards. Okay, cool.
...Except that we all know how flighty Gabriel is (excuse the pun). At this point in the ep I was almost CERTAIN he would still be extremely hesitant to stick around in the end. I thought maybe he would go his own way, have the boys call him up when they needed his grace, thus his appearance in episode 21. (My sabriel side said otherwise, but let’s stick to logic, shall we?)
So some action happens, Gabriel mocks Sleipner before stabbing him (ah, yes. There’s my favorite asshole). Dean does his usual reckless “bull in a china shop” move, taking the stick for Loki and going after him himself. You know, the usual.
Eventually, we wind up with Gabriel running into Loki, who looks like he has been waiting for just HIM to show up, based on a later comment.
anyway, here are some highlights of the convo, mostly from Loki;
“You think you’re some poor innocent victim. Gabriel, with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. Who will help me, who will save me?”
And then we have this back and forth;
“Of course - of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass.”
“Shut up!”
“Face it, old friend - you’re a joke. You’re failure. You live for pleasure, you stand for nothing. And in the end...that’s exactly what you’ll die for.”
“You first.”
Okay, SO. Here is what stuck out to me in this scene;
Gabriel looks alarmed when he sees Loki, and rightfully so. He doesn’t have the right stick, he is low on grace. He has no real way to fight him and win.
The desperate tone of Gabriel’s voice when he tells Loki to shut up. Keep in mind, Loki KNOWS his story, and Gabriel has always run away, always gone off to do his own thing. The thought that occurred to me here was that Loki knows how broken and weak Gabriel is. He can see it, and he takes advantage of it. Except, what Gabriel fears here is feeling even more vulnerable, especially in front of the boys. I think this scene in particular is what stopped Sam from pressing any further in the end, when Gabriel claimed he was fine. Gabriel and Dean are similar in those aspects, and he knows that it is best to let Gabriel keep the facade, to deal with it later.
It must be pretty damn painful for Gabriel to see a mirror image of himself spitting these truths out, made even worse by the fact that Loki used to be his friend. It is very reminiscent of season 3 episode 10, When Dean is facing off against his dream/demon self, and I think it ties perfectly into their similarities (I am so sorry, but C’MON, YOU GUYS. I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS).
That split second before he stabs Loki and then when he turns back to look at the body. I am fairly certain that I speak for everyone when I say that I fucking LOVE how expressive Richard’s eyes are; he can depict an entire emotion without even speaking. Well, his eyes here...they are filled with sadness, regret. He did it, but he didn’t feel good about it. He knows Dean is right, has probably always known, but I think the revenge really was the first step to healing, to rediscovering who he is after all those years of dissociation.
Loki’s last comment, about standing for nothing. I think this is one of the BIGGEST reasons for why Gabriel wanted to stay and help them. He knows that the statement is spot on, knows that Loki is simply telling him the truth. This is especially clear when Loki uses the term ‘old friend’ rather than just calling him Gabriel. When Gabriel replies with “you first”, I feel it is a declaration, a promise - to stop running, to stand for something, even if it means giving them more grace, or going as far as to kill AU Michael. The surprised look on Loki’s face at this response confuses me somewhat - he knew he was antagonizing someone who basically had a blade to his heart. And yet, he actually seems SHOCKED that Gabriel stabbed him anyway. Perhaps because he could see the meaning behind those words as well? Either way, I feel that Gabriel wants to prove himself, wants his new non trickster persona to be different.
Also, I would just like to give Dick Speight a ROUND OF FUCKING APPLAUSE, for both his portrayal of two different characters in one episode, and for being the fucking DIRECTOR as well.
Bravo, good sir. The angels bow to you.
This is Chaos, signing out!
#spn season 13#spn spoilers#richard speight jr#gabriel#samwinchester#dean winchester#theory#meta#i guess
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Rocking The Cradle Chapter 17: Let the games begin
The sound of heels and designer shoes clacked along the cobble stone. It was quiet, tense, as if everyone was waiting for something unexpected to happen. All the civilians were tucked away in their homes, pressed against their windows to watch whatever spectacle would arise.
The clock tower rung clear throughout the streets
She expected a messenger, someone that, for the time being, she could also hold for ransom. But, out on the streets, there was nothing but the warm nightly air.
That… and a cafe table.
Admittedly if it weren’t for the circumstances it wouldn’t look so out of place. It was maybe waist high, iron cast, and painted in a vibrant pastel pink.
And placed atop its spiral design was a wax stamp letter marked “Mêre de la Mort”
“Aww she thought about me!” La Mêre cooed “Think it’s a trap?”
Hawkmoth scoffed “The girl’s brave, not stupid just retrieve the damn card”
Sticking out her tongue at him teasingly, she picked up the letter, popped it open, and read its contents aloud.
“Depicted here are the 6 individual closest to Eloise’s heart aside from her parents” she read in a mockingly formal voice “On their arm is a yellow bandana marked with white lambs. Obtain all 6 and rendezvous at the construction site before sunrise. Only in that way will you win”
“Cheeky little fucks aren’t they?” She scowled “Making me work till morning”
“Better alternative than working on your knees, isn’t it?”
La Mêre cut her eyes at him but opted not to respond. She continued reading until she came to her final instruction
“Declare your agreement to the terms into the square and the game shall begin”
She sighed, irritated “What kind of dungeons and dragons shit is this?”
Nonetheless, she complied
“I, Mêre de la Mort, do hereby agree to the terms as they’ve been given. Just be sure to entertain me won’t you?”
*Over in a boarded up shop closeby*
Alya was struggling hard to let go of her babies. She knew they could do it, but the very idea that they could even remotely get hurt set her mind in circles.
“Mommy’s packed lots of supplies for you ok?” She croaked out “Sammy you have Oreos, cheese sticks, gatorade and fruit snacks. Sophie you have your princess gummies, peanut butter cracker packs, bottle of water and vanilla cookies”
She pulled them in for a bone crushing hug “You two make us so super proud and I promise we’ll all have one big sleepover with Elly ok?”
“Mom?” Sammy said
“Yes, my sweet angel babies?”
“We literally can’t breathe” Sophie finished, voice struggling to come out
Nino finally interjected and pried them from Alya ‘loving’ arms “Alright Mama Wifi that’s enough of that”
Outside, the sound of pointless destruction could be heard
“I’m getting real fucking bored out here!” Noémie warned
Taking a deep breath, Alya gave the twins one final hug and let them get the game underway
“Alya they’ll be ok” Nino soothed, rubbing her back “They’ve lived quite the life before us, there’s no doubt that this is nothing to them”
“Yea I know” She sighed “The flashlights and tasers will definitely keep them safe”
“Yea the-”
….
“Did you just send our kids out with tasers?”
Alya looked both offended and confused simultaneously “Um, I’m sorry do you not want them to have protection?”
Nino just rubbed her back a little harder, his mantra repeating endlessly in his head
‘She is a good mother, she is a good mother, she is a good mother’
It didn’t help really
*Back with the flaming bitch*
La Mêre set yet another trashcan ablaze with one of her explosive cigarette butts
Hawkmoth pinch the bridge of his nose is annoyance “Would you be so kind as to stop setting stupid things on fire?”
“Oh please it’s not like they’ll retaliate” La Mêre laughed
A hefty rock then collided with the side of her head
“Oh look they retaliated” Hawkmoth calmly noted
Clutching her aching head she narrowed her sights onto a pair of nervous, but fearless twins
She would’ve just burned them both into ash if it weren’t for something very special adorned on their arms
She broke out into a sickeningly sweet smile
“My, my, it’s far too dark for such cuties to be out on the streets? Don’t you think so?” She hummed, feigning a motherly tone
Even though Sammy and Sophie were shaking in their light up shoes, they refused to move an inch.
La Mêre approached them slowly, that poisonous grin never slipping from her face
She kneeled down and they could smell the alcohol seeping out of her mouth “You know, I think you can help me and my friend here.”
Sophie began to waver as her foot inched backwards to run, Sammy grasped her hand keeping her anchored and resolute.
“You see, I’m playing a little game with someone, and I need these special little scarves to win. It just so happens that you have exactly what I need”
Her hands slowly smoothed their way down the side of their faces. Her voice came out, no louder than a whisper
“You’ll help a poor mommy like me won’t you?”
*SMASH*
Sammy grabbed a brick stored in the side pocket of his bag and slammed it down onto the top of La Mêre’s skull.
She fell face first onto the cobblestoned ground, brain scrambled and nose slightly cracked
The air was thick with shock and anticipation. Never in their entire lives did the twins think they’d ever attack an adult...at least not again anyway.
Even Hawkmoth was decently surprised by the boys nerve
But Sammy was hardly done as La Mêre began to recover and stir awake
“L-like we’d ever hand over our bandanas to a fucking shriveled up cougar bitch like you!”
Back in the shop, Nino was in an incomprehensible mix of emotions. He was appalled by his son’s language, but he also had this mysterious sense of pride welling up inside. He looked to Alya, mouth hung agape in disbelief.
“I allowed him three cuss words, just for tonight” She responded with a calm expression
Let’s just say that mantra wasn’t getting any easier for him to repeat.
La Mêre was now passed the point of just being upset. She rose menacingly to her feet, knuckles cracking in preparation to just wreck anything in sight
Too bad it was the twins that had to face her wrath
Sammy pushed his sister away from him, nearly missing her clawing at their faces
“RUN!” He yelled, dashing down a narrow street
Sophie ran in the opposite direction and La Mêre was faced with a choice
“Go after the girl!” She snarled out at her partner “I want the stupid little bastard that’s brave enough to die today”
“Just try and keep up you dusty cunt!” He called out, picking up the pace
“I guess he was a little eager for this opportunity” Alya commented from behind the shop’s display case.
Oh Nino was definitely gonna get a few gray hairs after this.
*Over with the Sophie-Baby*
Hawkmoth was not the runner he used to be. He stretched out his back to relieve some of the built up tension but that low dull ache was not getting better in the least bit.
‘Tweety SO better be worth all this’
He leaned against a brick wall to catch his breath as best he could
“Ok child” He huffed out “I’m positive we’ve put enough distance between us, hand over the bandana so I can prove my allegiance”
Sophie had her back turned to him, and that silence was of no comfort to him
“Not before you prove your allegiance to me first”
Hawkmoth groaned, he SO did not have the time nor energy for this!
“Look, I don’t know if you’re aware of this but time is kind of not on our side here.”
She turned to face him and the look in her eyes gave off a very distinct “I don’t give a fuck” vibe.
He rubbed his temples
“Fuck it, not like I have any deal to upkeep or anything. Go ahead, get on with it”
Sophie gripped onto her shirt tightly, eyes cast toward the ground
“My brother isn’t really smart.” she said “He’s impulsive, cries when he gets to frustrated, and he honestly thinks that he can one day just…save the world like some hero”
Hawkmoth moved to speak but she continued
“But if there’s anything good about my stupid twin brother” She rubbed away her tears briskly “It’s that he’s stupidly loyal. He may not want to admit it to himself yet but, he loves Elly a lot. Enough to even lose his life, luring a complete lunatic to a trap all by himself.”
She took in a deep breath and faced Hawkmoth with fear and confidence flooding her eyes
“You’ve gotten everyone else to trust you, but you won’t fool me! Why? Why after all the pain you’ve cost the city alone, would you all of a sudden grow a heart?”
Hawkmoth’s heart bled for this girl. She had been through tremendous trials in her short life. And yet, all she can think of is her own brother’s safety.
He saw a bit of Marinette in her eyes, strong but not without fear. He couldn’t pander to this girl, there’d be no reason to even try.
He stood before her and bended down to where they were eye to eye. They were equals really, if only for just this moment
“Outside all of these suits and masks,” he began “I actually have a granddaughter of my own. She’s persistent, stubborn and louder than you can imagine”
His mind drifted to their first meeting, how determined she was to get him to smile
“Her parents are no better, constantly doting over her like a fragile egg. Together they all drive me up a wall.”
A sorrowful look danced across his aged features
“But one day, my granddaughter got taken away. It was so sudden that I feared that if I made a single wrong move, she’d be gone forever. Every night, I close my eyes begging to find a way to atone for what I did”
He looked up at sophie with a somber smile
“I suppose, this is a good place to start apologizing”
Sophie untied her bandana and held it out to him, he looked into her eyes to make sure it was ok and she simply smiled and placed it into his hand. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his breast pocket
“You’re a smart five year old, kid”
“It’s Sophie. Just say it right the first time”
Hawkmoth chuckled ‘That’s right, I have to start calling these kids by their names or else I’M the one that gets scolded’
He stood to his full stature and presented a gentleman’s bow of gratitude
“Sophia. I, Hawkmoth, do vow to return both your brother Samuel and friend Eloise to you safe and if i’m lucky, not too loud”
He pulled back his lapel to reveal a little yellow bandana of his own
Sophie gave a knowing smile and he was soon off on his way
La Mêre said that Elly’s pain would soon be over…
He intended to see to it that it would.
This city was gonna burn by the end of the day if La Mêre kept having a shitty night like this
Obviously she had gotten Sammy’s piece of the collection, once the little bastard had run himself to exhaustion he handed it over with just the pleas of leaving him alone. The only reason she hadn’t burned him alive right then and there was because he wanted his death to be right before Eloise’s eyes, just she deserved.
No, the boy didn’t piss her off too badly
His mother though...sent her into an absolute fury.
Alya could not possibly wait to get her part of the game. The moment Marinette explained the plan to her she spent her every waking moment devising something that would make SURE La Mêre remembered her name
“I-I’ve got you now you prick” La Mêre huffed, gripping onto her knees for support
“Yup” Alya responded plainly
La Mêre eyed her suspiciously, “What do you mean, ‘yup’?”
“You’ve clearly got me cornered, why fight?” Alya boredly replied, flicking around on her phone
La Mêre was a little lost, but why look a gift horse in the mouth right? She walked up to her, expecting to just get the bandana and be on her way but alya put up her hand, stopping her in her tracks
“The fuck?” She growled out “Hand over the fucking cloth dammit”
“Not before you say my name”
This shit was getting real old, real fast
“I don’t give a flying donkey shit about your goddamn name, give me the scarf”
Alya wagged her finger in disapproval, not even peering up from her phone as she ‘tsked’ greatly
“That’s a real shame you don’t know” She shrugged “Because until you figure it out you’ll have to deal with them”
“...Them?”
Alya, without ever making an effort, pointed her finely manicured finger up toward the sky.
La Mêre looked up. Lined all along the skyscraper like building were people of all kinds of ages, followers of Alya’s highly successful ladyblog, aiming anything and everything at her. One fatal move and she would be buried under a pile of garbage.
She smoothly walked by her. And right before she had crossed her completely she whispered into her ear
“Say. My. Name, bitch” Her voice was so calm it sent a literal chill down La Mêre’s spine
La Mêre took a chance and swung blindly to wipe the smug smirk off Alya’s face. She smoothly stepped back and snapped her fingers
Just as La Mêre feared, every one of her followers pelted her with anything they could find in their homes. It was something out of a nightmare, shoes, toys, and an ungodly amount of trash was lobbed at her with no remorse. All the while they chanted Alya’s name, cheering her on the whole way.
And it never stopped. No matter where La Mêre chased Alya to, all she had to do was post her latest location on her phone and it was the same song and dance all over again.
She fell along a brick wall in the inky darkness of a back alley. The moon was rising ever quickly and she was running out of time.
Alya seemed to tower over her with the sense of superiority alone. She folded her arms over her chest and stared holes into her head.
“Say my name”
La Mêre was beat and it killed her to know that fact. She balled up her fists in rage and gritted her teeth
“Alya Cesaire” she spat out
Alya cocked her head to the side in thought, ombre red hair falling over her shoulder. Fairly satisfied with her response, she untied the lamb dotted cloth from her upper arm.
Alya put her foot on La Mêre’s shoulder and pressed down hard. La Mêre was in a good amount of pain but was admittedly too scared to say a word about it.
“I’m going to give you this, but not because I even remotely think you earned it. I’m giving you this because before the end of tonight you will know what real fear feels like.”
With her foot still firmly pressed into her shoulder, Alya leaned down till their noses were barely touching. Her voice was colder than ice and her hazel eyes held no mercy. If La Mêre didn’t know any better, she’d think she was the real monster
“If I ever, even for a moment, catch you trying to come after my niece again, there will be no god that can save you from me.”
And just like that she just tossed the scarf into her hands carelessly and walked away, leaving a battered and dirtied La Mêre out on the grimy alley floor
She may be fucked up but that girl was the real demon
She stumbled out of the alleyway only to hear the sound of thumping music. Looking across the barren road, she finds a bar letting in people for the night.
Feeling a rush of relief she dashed her way in, barely acknowledging the bouncer’s calls to stop and pay for her entry.
“Give me 5 shots of blueberry vodka and make it quick” She demanded, grabbing the bartender by his collar and giving a rough shake with her one good arm.
She had the tolerance of a university student as she made quick work of the alcohol, not even bothering with a chaser as it numbed the pain in her aching shoulder.
“This is gonna take a fuckton of time to heal” She groaned, head planted on the counter
She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Hawkmoth, requesting his current progress
*From MaMa Mort* - Heeeey hubby how’s the search going?
*From Hawkmoth* - First, if you ever call me that again, i’ll burn these scarves right here. Also, I have one and am in pursuit of another
Little did she know though, he was actually busying himself with trying to resist a third world class Tom Dupain-Cheng viennoise au chocolat.
And he was losing...oh so badly
La Mêre clicked off her phone and relaxed in a nearby booth. The music was low and soothing like a high class lounge. It eased her mind enough to lull her into a light snooze
As she creaked her eyes closed, the alcohol slowly hitting her system, she didn’t even notice a certain copper skinned DJ making his way into the booth, 5 year old strapped to his hip.
“Hey man it’s time to step off, I got the next set” The man decked out in way too much neon looked at Nino with an expression of confused disgust
“The fuck you mean!? Look, i worked too hard to-” A 100 Euro bill was thrust into his face.
“Why don’t you buy yourself something strong” He said with a dazzling smile “On me. It’s been a long night I’m sure”
That man didn’t need any more coercion as he took the money and practically skipped his way out of the booth
“Remember Sophie, never accept a bribe from a stranger”
“Until I check to see if it’s real”
“That’s my hustle princess”
Nino tucked her away safely underneath the mixing stand and put noise cancellation earbuds into her ears. He did the same to his own and checked to make sure they were connected.
“Now sweet pea, daddy’s gonna play some not so appropriate music. You gotta promise not to repeat any of the words you hear”
“As far as I know, I was never here”
“Good girl. Welp, here goes something”
Nino popped up from inside the booth and looked out over the crowd. From across the sea of bored patrons he spotted La Mêre herself, dozing off into the red leather seating.
He smiled ‘Perfect’
He starts off slow, turning off the whack-ass music the previous DJ had set up and starting with something low and cool, sort of a lo-fi hip hop beat.
Then, ever so gradually, he started switching to faster and more hype songs, all the while making sure to watch to see if La Mêre was waking up. People began gravitating toward the dancefloor, finally having something they can really move to they abandoned their drinks and seats to get their blood pumping.
Now things were really moving, the music was banging, people were starting to sweat from the dancing, it was all Nino had ever dreamed of
And then...right as the music hit it’s apex…
He dropped the beat like he’d touch the sun
La Mêre was ripped out of her seat as the bar was drowned in a sea of bass drops and maddening beats.
Her eardrums were shattered. She attempted to pick herself off the floor but was constantly jostled left and right by drunk, high 20 somethings. The music kept getting louder and louder, she could barely hear herself think much less speak.
She peeled herself off of the floor only to be shoved back into her seat
Not to be defeated she pushed through to her feet
But then one girl got a little too drunk
And La Mêre got a lotta too punched in the face
And that’s when all kinds of hell broke loose
La Mêre ripped a table from its bolted socket and began swinging it wildly in the air. Bouncers attempted to approach her, but one look in that woman’s eyes and they feared that they’d turn to stone immediately.
Her eyes, glazed over from pounding a whole bottle of tequila on the side, settled on the DJ booth. Nino, wanting to make extra sure she was pissed set his speakers up to 11. People scattered for the exits as she harpooned the speaker system from across the room.
Nino made a quick grab for Sophie and leapt out the way, just missing getting speared by a table
“Daddy?” Sophie called, tugging on his sleeve
“Yes sweet pea?”
“I think you’ve made her mad enough now”
He nodded, a bashful smile on his face “Yea, I think so too. Ready to go do the next part for daddy?”
She nodded in agreement and unwound herself from his arms, crawling away behind the now wrecked bar.
La Mêre was busying herself with tearing up the pool table with her boot, when Nino called out to her
“Pardon me miss,” he said “But I’m sure there’s no need for all this rampant violence”
She whipped her head towards him, mouth virtually seething flames, and glared spears into his face. He visibly flinched, but stood his ground
“At least...not for such a pretty lady like yourself”
She raised an eyebrow and climbed down the now smouldering gaming table. He was playing her, that much she knew. Luckily that bandana was the only thing keeping him alive.
“You have my attention boy, keep it and you keep your life”
Nino could feel the cold sweat sliding down his neck
“Well, I’m sure you know that I am admittedly a part of this whole scavenger hunt deal. But, to be frank with you I’m much more interested in something else”
She was intrigued, if only for the moment
“And this something would be?”
He put on a flirtatious smirk “No need to play modest here, I’ve sorta had my eye on you since you first arrived on the scene. All that confidence with all of that body? I just had to get to know you”
Nino wanted to gag with every word that spilled out of his mouth, he could only pray that Alya wasn’t around to hear him. Now that’s a fight he’d just roll over on.
La Mêre had a seductive smile as she paced herself around him for a better inspection, “So, little DJ here is into older women. Do I have that right?”
He shrugged, “I would more prefer the term, experienced. Females my age, they’re still trying to figure out what a blowjob is. I need a woman who knows her way around a bedroom”
She leaned up against his back, breasts pressing softly against his spine. He felt himself regurgitate but kept his cool.
“Well if it’s experience you want, I think I can saddle up to the task”
She tried to make a pass for his more sensitive bits but he cut her off by spinning around to face her.
“Let’s not do it here” She raised an eyebrow in questioning “what I mean is, I’m more of a private type of lover, so, I’d prefer somewhere a little more secluded”
Initially, she thought it was a little weird, but the young ones were always shy so she played it off like no big deal
“Ok then, any ideas”
He let out a sigh of relief “Personally, I’m quite fond of a little “Alley cat” play. That is, if you’re willing”
Her smile widened “Just be careful, this kitty has claws of her own”
He led her out a back door, just barely glancing at Sophie as she busied herself with a lot of alcohol and a very large container. Holding open the door for the ‘lady’, Nino had hoped to see his little girl give him a sign, signal, anything that said he didn’t have to actually go through with this. But sadly, all he saw was her little hand shooing him to get on with it.
‘Oh yea sure just stick me with the most disgusting part of the plan. I didn’t need my innocence anyway it’s super overrated.’ He grimaced
He didn’t have too much time to fret over the situation as La Mêre grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and forced him against a wall
Nino suddenly had a vast amount of respect for women who had to deal with assholes getting too feely with them on a daily basis. La Mêre had her hands on every surface of his skin. All he could do to defend himself was squirm and hope she’d catch the hint...she didn’t.
“Now that I’m getting a good look at your face, you were the one blasting that fucking music weren’t you”
He passed it off with an airy laugh “Had to get your attention somehow. Besides, I think you look most...interesting when you’re mad”
La Mêre’s eyes twinkled with a dangerous, playful look “Nice try, but i’ve had a really shitty day and I need an outlet. So sad to say but I think it’s time for a bit of punishment”
His eyes went as wide as the moon as she smoothly tore open his shirt.
‘IneedanadultIneedanadultIneedanadult!!!!’
She worked her hand down his bare stomach, taking her time and leaving bite marks on his skin. She knelt in front of his jeans and undid his belt buckle.
Her hands froze as the barrel of what felt like a gun was on the back of her head
“I’m gonna need you to take your rotting fingers off my daddy” Sophie said with not a hint of fear
“Oh my god, I’ve never been so happy to adopt, bless jesus” He groaned in relief collapsing against the wall
La Mêre scoffed “Sorry to break it to you honey but your little pea shooter isn’t exactly gonna save the world here”
“Good thing it’s packed with the worst combination of alcohol I could come up with” She tossed a water pistol to Nino and continued
“You just chugged a whole bottle of tequila. So it would be pretty bad if all of a sudden you had a throat full of Natural Light beer, known to, when mixed, induce immediate vomiting”
Nino shoved the barrel of the water pistol upto La Mêre’s lips. She glared fire into Nino’s face “And that only works if I open my mouth, your point?”
Sophie put on a wicked smile “You’ve been cut up pretty bad tonight haven’t you? You must’ve taken at least a couple of scars. In fact, I see a fairly fresh one on the back of your neck. So here’s the deal”
Sophie put another water gun to the back of La Mêre’s neck
“In my hand is a Nerf Super Soaker Arctic Shock Water Blaster filled to the brim with a special mix I like to call “Satan’s Sip” made of all kinds of nasty stuff I found behind the bar. Now then, either I pull my trigger or my daddy pulls his. Pick your poison”
La Mêre put up her hands in defeat
“You know it’s been a really, REALLY shitty night and I was trying to play along with the game but you shown me that I’m really no contender for it”
The tension was thicker than lead as no one moved or hardly breathed
“Sucks that I’ll have to play dirty now!” La Mêre pivoted around on her foot and snatched the gun from Sophie’s hand.
Nino leapt into action, grabbing La Mêre’s hair and slamming her body onto the ground. The impact was so sudden that it knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath. Sophie jumped on the opportunity and grabbed the gun back and putting head of the gun into her mouth.
“On behalf of Elly, bottom’s up”
Sophie unloaded the whole tank of liquor with no remorse. La Mêre could barely breath, the mixture was rushing down her throat so fast. Everything went blurry as her whole body burned and convulsed.
Not wanting to stay around for the aftermath, Nino grabbed sophie and raced to their next meetup spot. He abruptly picked up his speed as the sound of screaming, curses, and vomiting ganged up on them
“Jesus Christ Sophie what did you put in that water gun!?”
“Oh you know. Rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizer, lemon juice, hot sauce, salt, and any liquor with a warning label on it...there was actually a lot of those”
‘I think my little family is gonna put me into an early grave’
Making it to a local park, Nino skidded to a halt and took a nervous breath. Trust me, he wanted to keep running but the point of this whole mission was to lure La Mêre to various locations. They needed to make sure that she knew where to run, otherwise she’d start destroying the city (more than she already was).
“YOU!!!” She bellowed, another round of bile and ‘Satan’s Sip’ spilling from her mouth
“I-if it’s any consolation, I was never gonna get with you in the first place!”, She roared bloody murder “Oh come on, you’ve met Alya! If I ever cheated on her, not even death could save me!”
Spitting out what remained, La Mêre pulled a cigarette from her chest. Nino stumbled back as she breathed in the smoke until all that was left was a measly nub. She flicked it to the side and with not an ounce of care for what was hit, spat out a massive fireball from her lips.
Nino dove toward a tree and shielded Sophie’s smaller body with his larger one. Hoping to at least shield her from some of the pain he squeezed his eyes shut and expected the worse.
Moments passed with no impact. He thought he just died and creaked open his eyes. He was never so happy to just see his daughter and grass, beautiful, sweet smelling grass.
“Baby, are you ok!” He said, checking all over her body for scars
She laughed, batting away his hands “Yes daddy, I’m fine! Elly’s grandma saved us”
He was so confused ‘Her grandma?’. He turned his head and there she was, Sabine Dupain-Cheng, local baker, was standing in front of them, loving smile and all
“Are either of you hurt?” She asked. They both shook their heads in response.
She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled “That’s a relief. Now Nino, may I have your scarf. I’ll hold her off while you two escape.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Nino quickly untied his bandana and handed it over. Thanking her profusely, they ran off, hoping to never have to do this again.
“Oh what the fuck now!” La Mêre seethed. Sabine straightened her posture and approached her, a serious and resolute expression on her face
“Oh what, now I have to fight this 70 year old Street Fighter reject? Give me a fucking break here” Sabine remained mute as she readied her fighter stance.
She stumbled, however, as a blaring screech hit her ear drum
“MOM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?” Marinette had been decently silent through this whole operation, staying out of sight with Adrien and following everyone’s progress. She did not, however, agree to having her mother having a stand-off with paris’ most dangerous and psychopathic terrorist.
“Following the plan dear, what does it look like?” Sabine responded. Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose
“The plan, mother dearest, was to lure. NOT to dress in you finest Tangzhuang and fight”
She wanted her to just run and leave it be, but Sabine refused to back down, arguing that this was a matter of honor amongst the Dupain-Cheng family. The argument got so heated, in fact, that it soon spiraled into pure, unaccented Mandarin. Even Adrien was able to pick up pieces of the debate (though he’d rather not repeat them).
“Fine Ma!” Marinette huffed out “Do whatever! Just...watch yourself ok?”
Adrien put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder “Hey, I know you’re worried but everything will be fine! I’m sure your mom is probably tougher than she looks”
What he did not expect though, was the confused look on Marinette’s face. You know, the one that just screams “What in the holy fuck are you talking about?”
“What? Oh i’m not worried about HER”
“...huh?”
La Mêre bursted into attack, feeling utterly irate and ignored. She balled up her fist in plans for a clean shot to the face. Sabine smoothly took hold of her fist and pinned her arm behind her back, jabbing her fingers onto the back of her neck. Shoving her away, La Mêre stumbled against a tree, gripping her neck in pain
“Mari?”
“Yea?”
“Your mom’s a baker right?”
“Has been since before I was born”
Sabine decided to take the initiative and unwound a chinese rope dart from her waist. Wrapping it tightly around her wrist, she spun it rapidly, watching her opponent with a laser like vision. La Mêre moved to rush her again. Sabine flung the dart, keeping her at bay. No matter how many times she tried to advance, the threat of the obsidian dart kept her from moving.
Adrien could not form comprehensible sounds, much less words of a known language
And then it hit her
“Adrien, you didn’t actually think my use of the yoyo came NATURALLY did you? You told me yourself that your fighting style came from fencing training”
“How was I supposed to know that your mom was a martial arts master...AND WHY THE HELL IS YOUR MOM A MARTIAL ARTS MASTER!?!?”
Marinette was in hysterics at his facial expressions “Before my parents met, my mom was already a 6 time master in Chanquan-Wushu, specializing in the rope dart. Fun fact, she was actually training Elly for a while”
Adrien gawked at her incredulously “Oh calm down! It was just some self defense movements, in case of a bully or something. Nothing with the rope dart (i don’t think)”
He ran his hands through his hair, yes his daughter was learning a few martial arts moves, no big deal! Everyone needs to learn self defense!
“Oh and when my dad used to live in America he became a massive pro-wrestling star, everyone called him “The One Stop Shop”. You should have seen him showing off all his old takedowns to Elly, she looked like she was having so much fun….Uh Adrien you ok?”
A ghost was more tan than him right now.
“I guess I also shouldn’t tell you that I was already a 4 time advanced black belt in Northern Shaolin kung fu with a specialization in praying lotus style by the time i hit 16 huh?”
If Adrien Agreste learned nothing else on this night, he learned this lesson...fuck with this family if you want to...you’ll never make it
La Mêre was receiving her 5th beatdown by the time she finally gave up. She thought she could catch Sabine off guard by grabbing the dart before it hit her face. They got into a tug of war over the dart and she thought she might’ve actually won something. Too bad that was all sabine needed before winding the rope around her foot and stomping it downward, colliding La Mêre’s face with the ground for the umpteenth time.
“Mom, I think you got your point across” Marinette spoke into her earpiece
Feeling decently satisfied with her work, Sabine agree and relented on her attack. She undid her own bandana and carelessly threw them on top of La Mêre’s silent body.
“An interesting tidbit for you” She spoke into her ear “Back in my younger days I was known as the serpent’s bite. You come for my family again and you can get an in depth lesson as to why”
And she left her there, battered and bruised with not even a second thought
“Ugh she went overboard again” Marinette groaned
She had expected them to be stuck in their little hideout for a while, the woman did just contract multiple blows to her pressure points. Hell who knows, she might even be knocked out till morning! Wouldn’t that be a lucky break.
But their hopeful peace was short lived.
Wisps of ashy gray floated toward the night sky as a strangled cackle ripped through the warm air.
“You know...tonight’s been fun”
Marinette and Adrien’s blood ran icy cold. La Mêre sat up, blood dripping down her mouth
“Got some exercise in, listened to some music, hell even had a drink or two”
Adrien grabbed onto Marinette’s hand tightly as the beaten woman lumbered onto her feet, hair matted and filthy
“And to be honest I really wanted to just...win, you know? Earn Elly relatively fair and square”
Their hearts was beating out of their chests, they couldn’t be sure what to do, she was just too unpredictable
“But if this is how you’re gonna play the game, then don’t be too mad when I join in the fun”
It all became far too painfully clear
There was only one thing they could do…
“When you see Elly’s father, tell him I said hi”
RUN!!!
#miraculous ladybug#Marinette#marinette cheng#adrienette#adrien x marinette#ladybug#Rocking the Cradle#ladrien#adrien agreste#marichat#Nino lahiffe#alya cesaire#sabine cheng#tom dupain#gabriel agreste#Long Reads#fanfiction#LadyNoir#Eloise agreste#Sammy Lahiffe#Sophie Lahiffe#fight scene#chapter 17
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My favorite lyrics from New School Rap Artists.
So I run a radio show at my college with one a co-host named C-Bo called “Chillin with C-Bo”. I started out as a guest on the show, but I soon became something more. Now C-Bo is leaving the country for a while, so it’s up to me to run the show.
If you ever wanna listen, I’m on from 11:30 AM- 2:30 Pm EST, on Tuesdays. I’ll provide a link to the online site below.
But enough self promotion!
One thing I promised C-Bo was that I would stick to his style of music for the show to maintain consistency, as well as sprinkle a little bit of my own flavor.
The problem, however, was I wasn’t into the type of music C-Bo was into; New School Rap. I have been hesitant to dive into this genre because I was afraid that it would ruin the flavor of rap and hip hop I had acquired from before 2010 (you know, your basic nostalgia).
But As I began to really listen to artists like Chance the Rapper, Logic, Childish Gambino, and Kendrick Lamar, I fell in love. But not with the beat, or the tempo, or even the voices/flow of the artists. I fell in love with the lyrics. What I love most about rap and hip-hop is that it gives artists a chance to formulate great lyrical content. Other genres of music have become so cheesy and typical with the words, that it gets to the point where they all sound the same.
But in rap, each song is so different.
Nas wrote a song from the point of view of a gun.
Eminem wrote a song about a crazed fan that lost his mind trying to get his attention.
NWA created songs that helped bring a spark into the souls of Compton residents, making them feel like they aren’t all the criminals and gang-bangers everyone sees them as.
Hell, Mackelmore wrote a song about how to shop at a thrift shop!
Today’s modern day rap has taken a bit of a blow in terms of lyrical content, however.
With so many songs about money, drinking, smoking, making money, cursing out the police, and gang banging, along with the rise of Mumble rap and songs that are just repeating the same 3 lines over and over to a loud beat, it’s hard to find good, thought provoking lyrics in today’s rap.
Luckily, I found a few.
If you wanna know what songs these lyrics came from, they’ll be in Parenthesis at the end of each one.
So here are some of my favorite lyrics from some of today’s New School Rap Artists;
Kendrick Lamar
“I can dig rapping... but a rapper with a ghost writer; what the fuck happened?
(Oh no!) I swore I wouldn't tell! But most of you share bars like you got the bottom bunk in a two man cell! (A two man cell?) Something's in the water.(Something's in the water) And if I got a brown nose for some gold, then I'd rather be a bum than a motherfuckin' baller!” (King Kunta)
“I'm so fucking sick and tired of the Photoshop. Show me something natural like afro on Richard Pryor. Show me something natural like ass with some stretch marks.” (HUMBLE)
“I know murder, conviction, burners, boosters, burglars, ballers, dead, redemption, scholars, fathers dead with kids, and I wish I was fed forgiveness
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, soldier's DNA.” (DNA)
“I done been through a whole lot; trials and tribulations, but I know God! Satan wanna put me in a bow-tie, praying that the holy water don't go dry, yeah yeah! As I look around me, so many motherfuckers wanna down me! But enemigo never drown! In front of a dirty double-mirror, they found me. And, I love myself!” (i)
“If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?” (Poetic Justice ft. Drake)
“Everybody gon' respect the shooter, but the one in front of the gun lives forever” (Money Trees)
“Seen a light-skinned n***a with his brains blown out. At the same burger stand, where *censored* hang out. Now this is not a tape recorder saying that he did it. But ever since that day, I was looking at him different. That was back when I was nine. Joey packed the nine. Pack to stand on every porch is fine. We adapt to crime...” (m.A.A.d. city)
“’Okay... Now open your mind up and listen to me, Kendrick! I'm in your conscience, if you do not hear me, then you will be history, Kendrick!
I know that you're nauseous right now, and I'm hopin' to lead you to victory, Kendrick!’ If I take another one down, I'm a drown in some poison abusin' my limit” (Swimming Pools [Drank])
Logic
“Not perceived by the things I believe or the color of my skin, or the fact I'm attracted to her, maybe him, or the fact I'm a single mother living all alone, looking for a man and a home to call my own. But I already have one; the only man I'ma ever need is my son, my son, my son, my son, son, say!” (Black SpiderMan)
“All this other shit I'm talkin' 'bout they think they know it. I've been praying for somebody to save me, no one's heroic. And my life don't even matter. I know it I know it, I know I'm hurting deep down but can't show it. I never had a place to call my own, I never had a home. Ain't nobody callin' my phone. Where you been? Where you at? What's on your mind? They say every life precious, but nobody care about mine.” (1-800-273-8255)
“Everybody gonna die, gonna go one day, maybe it'll happen on a Monday. Drop into work and get hit by a Hyundai, fuck it, let it all go one day” (Fade Away)
“Man, I never knew livin' out a dream meant livin' out a suitcase! I've been working at a new pace! So much money on the road, I ain't even had a minute, not a single second chilling in my new place! Motherfuckers getting two-faced! ‘Cause a brother finally eating, not to mention everybody gettin' two plates!” (Run it)
“Masta deep down inside of me, the plantation deep down inside of me. Everybody fuck like sodomy, because one or the other what it gotta be. Tell me, why my momma gotta lie to me, unity for everyone that lied to me. Peace on earth, what I try to be; I just wanna spread the message of equality” (Take It Back)
“I been knockin doors down like a Jehovah witness, God as my witness, I'm with this, but on the real I think I need another witness!” (Everybody)
Drake
“You know the truth, this not pretend, I'm not your friend, not your guy, I'm not your buddy, show no lovin', and I might go DeMarcus Cousins; out in public!” (6 Man)
“Please, check 'em for a wire or earpiece. Please, please do not let these n***as near me. Please, think before you come for the great one. Please, who's a real n***a and who ain't one? Please.” (Back to Back)
“Oh, Lord! Who else sounded like this? They ain't make me what I am, they just found me like this, I was ready. Fuck that, I've been ready, since my dad used to tell me he was comin' to the house to get me. He ain't show. Valuable lesson, man, I had to grow up! That's why I never ask for help; I'll do it for you n***as and do it for myself!” (0-100/The Catch Up)
“I done kept it real from the jump. Living at my mama's house we'd argue every mornin' n***a, I was trying to get it on my own; working all night, traffic on the way home, and my uncle calling me like, ‘Where ya at?’ I gave you the keys told ya bring it right back, N***a.” (Started from the Bottom)
Chance the Rapper
“Man my daughter couldn't have a better mother. If she ever find another, he better love her! Man I swear my life is perfect, I could merch it! If I die I'll prolly cry at my own service...” (All We Got)
“JJ, Mikey, Lil Derek and them, 79th street was America then. Ice cream truck and the beauty supply, blockbuster movies and Harold's again. We still catching lightening bugs when the plague hit the backyard. Had to come in at dark cause the big shawty's act hard.” (Summer Friends)
“Jesus black life ain't matter, I know I talked to his daddy, said you the man of the house now, look out for your family.” (Blessings)
“Damn man, I don't even need a radio, and my new shit sound like a rodeo
Got the old folks dancing the Do-si-do, so they fuck around, sign me to OVO. Oh, I just might share my next one with Keef, got the industry in disbelief, they be asking for beef!” (Angels)
“Way back then when everything we read was real, and everything we said rhymed. Wide eyed kids being kids. When did you stop? What did you do to your hair? Where did you go to end up right back here? When did you start to forget how to fly?” (Same Drugs)
“Hope there never come a day where we be better as friends. We in a marathon we could build a marriage on. Arguments as parents digging deeper than a baritone. I've been getting blocked just trying to make songs with friends, labels told me to my face that they own my friends.” (Finish Line/Drown)
Childish Gambino
“I got more tail than that PetCo, you faker than some Sweet'N Low. Yeah, you got some silverware, but really are you eating though? Are you eating though? N***a, are you eating though? Breakfast, lunch and dinner's for beginners, you ain't even know.” (IV. Sweatpants)
“All I do is make the stuff I would've liked, reference things I wanna watch, reference girls I wanna bite, now I'm firefly like a burning kite. And you's a fake fuck like a fleshlight” (Fire Fly)
“Can we hear the N-word one day and not get upset? Can we try something new and not be suspect?” (You See Me)
“My shit be Jackson, Jordan, Bolton, Keaton, Tyson: 5 Mikes. Donald Glover, no relation, always workin', no vacation. They couldn't feel me, no vacation.
Murder versus the only motive was motivation...” (Bonfire)
“Got no patience, cause I'm not a doctor. Girl why is you lying, girl why you Mufasa? Yeah, mi casa su casa, gotta strip it like Gaza. Got so high off volcanoes, now the flow is so lava.” (3005)
So, that’s my list. I might have left out some better verses by theses artists, as well as some better artists. That’s mainly cuz these are the only new school rappers i’ve been hearing as of late. If you got any suggestions of artists/songs, please lmk!!! Thanks for reading!!!
#new school rap#rap#hiphop#childish gambino#chance the rapper#logic#kendrick lamar#drake#0-100#swimming pools#sweatpants#same drugs#black spiderman#music#lyrics#donald glover
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LEE YURA – THE EMPRESS. AGENT 03.
[ FILE TYPE: CLASSIFIED ]
//: LOADING PROFILE: LEE YURA ...
international age: 22
birthplace: ansan, south korea
arcana: the empress
team number: one
//: LOADING MUTATION: WEAPONS PROFICIENCY ...
application one: enhanced marksmanship
— Like the performance of knife-throwing she learned as a child in the circus, this is an accuracy that looks both frightening and improbable - as it should be. Capable of aiming and hitting targets of movement, high speed, or distance with exceptional accuracy, this is Yura’s ability to achieve results via any weapon that requires aiming before hitting its target - e.g. guns, knives, bow and arrow, etc.
application two: weapon calling
— Her favourite ability by far, this is a simplistic application that allows Yura to attract weapons to her by a limited version of telepathy. This can be used to draw weapons out of enemy hands and simply dump what she cannot hold at her feet, but largely and more frequently it can be utilized to call her own weapon back to her.
application three: adoptive muscle memory
— By nature of seeing a human individual work any sort of weapon, she learns the mechanics of it on sight, allowing her to replicate the use of it immediately - even if she has never before heard of or touched said weapon.
overall strengths and weaknesses:
— Yura’s greatest strength is the creativity which which she utilizes her power: it’s become a favourite trick of hers to use weapon calling in a non-traditional way, throwing blunt or sharp objects (with the aid of her enhanced marksmanship) at an angle that, when calling them back to her a moment later, will cause damage to whomever is around her - making the return call as effective as the initial throw. Similarly she enjoys employing her enhanced marksmanship in ways that are unexpected; a rope or whip can be considered a weapon, and creating exceptionally effective lassos or traps out of said objects is rarely expected.
But no matter the creativity, there is certainly a limited scope to her power. She must have an unobstructed and undistracted view of someone using a weapon in order for her muscles to adapt to it, and at the moment this is largely limited to the training exercises she undergoes, as learning new weapons in the heat of a mission rarely works as the conditions aren’t ideal. Her weapon calling can be abused by enemies if they get their hands on it midair before it returns to her, and while she is practiced at returning her own weapon to her, she is still slightly unpredictable in terms of snatching weapons out of another’s hands - she cannot always control how many she can grab, or where they land.
//: LOADING HISTORY ..
PRE-MUTATION
i. you are born
everything is red. the walls, the low-hanging canvas sky, the place she is leaving. lee yura carved her mother’s womb into a bloody and torn place, and it is here that she first learned bitterness. she is born unlucky. the fourth day of the fourth month, and she is marked. this is how it was always meant to be. her mother doesn’t care about it, but her father does. her father doesn’t care about her, but her mother does. she is their circus rite, a performance ritual: conceived as if by magic, the result of a one-night-only two-for-one ticket to a beautiful dance. she has her mother’s name because her father will not give her his, but what a greedy, greedy thing she is even now – and she steals his eyes and the slant of his jaw anyway.
she does not even ask permission. she just takes.
ii. you are three weeks old
they will tell her that she was a noisy child, always wailing, greedy and loud, a pale bundle of noise and need. be not ashamed of this, child. it is your right to demand the world upright.
iii. you are stretching into the shape of your father’s shadow
she is his child and they all know it, and she knows it, but the bastard of a star is worse still than the bastard of no one: a stain on his honour, night sky across his shine. he walks by her with nothing in his eyes and nothing on his face and she feels everything. and the rest of them are silent.
the rest of them are not so cruel when there is no audience: they pet her hair and palm over honey cakes, watching how she climbs the silks like she was born in their chrysalis, then telling her where to better place your feet so as to climb farther. she holds their words like precious stones, placing the collection in a satchel and tying it around her neck. there are other children, but she is the most of them. she is the circus’s magic as well as its dregs; the shine of spotlight and the bloody knuckles. watching from in the rafters, somewhere between angel and rat, sleeping under the theatre seats because mother cannot afford a babysitter. this tent, these people, they raise her. she twirls plates on sticks when she is bored and stretches with the acrobats. this is the first kind of love she learns how to accumulate, handing out the correct slices of herself to each of them, becoming a daughter twelve times over. she is the daughter of this madness, and oh it becomes her.
but he still does not look at her. he is her father, but she is not his.
iv. you are eight, and it is time
but she is his, and to see her is to know it. precocious and stubborn and demanding, taking his silhouette now, ignoring the warnings and chastising to climb defiantly higher and move quicker. she learns his tricks, studying with the many aunts and uncles that have adopted her – still slower than him yet, but she is young, and even the elders stop to watch when you start moving.
when she climbs on his stage, it is with feet placed apart and elbows out. she is taking up space. ready to be held, ready to be hit.
he does hit her, later. but it is in the privacy of his own room, and she has won.
she is going to be a great, too.
v. you are nine, and it is not love
it will never be love, but he watches her now. younger than her are performers made here, and this art is as much hereditary as it is practice. his talent and ferocity is in her. they play noughts and crosses at night, and he does not let her win. three strikes, you’re out. he gives no second chances, no turned blind eye for age or temperance. she wins, she loses, but most often it is a loss. she will think this is because he wants to remind her that he will always win, but she’s wrong. he is teaching how to bruise and stand.
vi. you are ten, and the curtain drops
the world gets smaller as she cross it on the magic carpet of that towering red tent. she sees it all. weaned on the wonders of her own traditions, they are no longer special. then, somewhere along a cold coast with too much fog, you see a man make things out of thin air, and you know what real magic is.
vii. you are thirteen, and you do what they ask of you
and they ask everything. she becomes the embellishments, the minor roles, the gaps and the sick spaces. and in the dark, she makes her own courses and studies.
viii. you are sixteen, and with your body you do wonders but with your mind you work miracles.
she is a star now, full and bright and brimming with magick. she takes the shapes no one else can, willing her body into art. no longer the filler, she is the marbled meat.
before the shows, after the shows, it does not matter: she lives on stages across the world in her mind’s eye, craving new angles and newer ideas. she wants the world in a way that is not quite hungry but all the way starving; desperate, longing, hoping. she thinks there is something waiting for her just beyond the horizon, hidden under the tongue of the sky like a melting candy.
but every time, the answer is no. you belong here.
viiii. you are seventeen, and you petition for your right to glory
i will be the first, she says, and that should appeal to him – the first of anything is always something. she knows she is good enough; better than that, even. she has the world’s best secrets inside you, collected over the years from every place imaginable, and they are wriggling like bees at the ends of her fingers.
silence, he tells her. ‘daughter’ leaves his teeth for the first time, so in shock she tries to be one. duty. honour. respect.
she swallows the blood from biting her tongue and waits.
x. you are eighteen.
it doesn’t last long.
father hits her and calls her daughter. disobedient daughter.
you swallow your blood again and wait.
wait.
the audience is hushed.
xi. you are eighteen, and leave in fire
the real kind. no more goddamn poetry. mother catches her playing with matchsticks and weep tears that turn to gasoline on the floor. she smokes out their tents and leaves.
riotous applause.
xii. you are nineteen, and you do what you are made for
she works in the spaces too delicate for anyone else, making new names and taking new stories with each passing month. becoming their wives (lives) for a day, dream for a weekend, a month. they love her, and she loves them.
no one with correct knowledge would dare call it thievery. it’s not even a lie. it’s something far more grand. the only criminality about this is the way she pockets their watches when they aren’t looking, but that’s only for the thrill, not the shine. the warmth she bestows, the joy - it’s sleight of hand, grand plans and escapades. it’s making use of the only truth she’s ever known: gilt lies. magic.
she is no longer a girl, and you never took the shape of a woman. she is something else, and she is beautiful.
xiii. you are nineteen, and you meet a man who knows how to cheat death.
maybe that is an exaggeration, but he cheated her, so maybe not. he is tall and handsome and has fast hands and a slow smile. when you try to take his wallet, he catches your hand. fox-girl, he calls her. and then she’s kissed.
xiv. you are in love. fuck.
he says he’s good with cards, but that’s not all of it. what he means is: he’s good with his fingers, his instincts, and his lies, but he’s even better with everyone else’s – including hers. two ends of the same snake, they chase one another in circles, waiting to make the other lose while forgetting what winning feels like.
so she sleeps in his bed a little and wear his gifts and tries to make him lose, but mostly they just kiss. and it’s not so bad. you are a beautiful team. a two-person empire.
he gives her a ring and says she’s the most beautiful stranger he’s ever met.
xv. you are twenty, and you love him. you do. but.
but there is a wedding in two months, and the games are slowing down because he wants to take care of her, and her fingers ache from lack of use, and she are not made for this. she is too young; has no desire for a throne, she wants to melt it down and barter with its bars. so when the dream calls, with a message she doesn’t remember and a proposition she could refuse, she doesn’t. like all circus girls, she takes it as a sign.
and she waits.
POST-MUTATION
xvi. you are twenty, and they come for you.
like a dark cloud, like rain water, like a promise, they come. marya morevna’s ravens falling outside the window, and one day she opens the door looking for a familiar face and finding someone else entirely. they talk, she opens the door wider. when she invites them in for tea they stutter in surprise but come anyway. (your kindness in the face of danger is surprising, girl).
she does not take much convincing, but that’s because a girl that knows herself as intimately as she knows herself does not look to others for validation. they are only telling her what’s she’s long been expecting - been hoping for.
this is a reckoning.
a coming home.
xvii. you leave
with a note, but no explanation. she loves him, but that is not enough.
xviii. you arrive
among the first in these hallowed halls, she decides to bleed colour, sing warmth into the white spaces: mark everything with her fingerprints, give it humanity. it’s not what they expect, this angular approach to acceptance, to bringing other people in, but it works. the more people that arrive the stronger she grows, fed by genuine emotion and the relationships meant to build.
she’s never been happier. this is not the circus, not the city, not the man. this is adventures waiting to happen and something unexpected at every corner.
xxix. you live
welcome to the story of the girl who lived.
this is going to be her greatest act yet.
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