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gallavictorious · 3 years

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Seven Days left~ Give us 7 favorite Shameless moments

One day late – whoops! Sorry about that, sweet nonnie; this was the most delightful ask and I was very stoked to get it. ❤️❤️❤️

Disclaimer: I misread the question because I’m a dumbass and went for Gallavich moments. My bad. :o These are seven of my favourite moments, by the way: I just can't decisively pick my ultimate top seven. Also put them down in chronological order rather than in order of how fond of them I am, because it'd would've been too hard to do otherwise.

4x08: “You coming back?” This scene is quite uncomfortable, what with Ian's demand for blowjobs and Mickey's obvious (though temporary) discomfort, but I think that's what has me returning to it again and again (and what has had me writing one very long meta and a fic about it). It represents a shift in their dynamic, with Ian claiming some power in the relationship for himself, and even though it is uncomfortable, it's fascinating to see – and needed to happen for them to work in the long term (even if it maybe didn't need to happen like that – but then again, it's just so in character for both of them, however messed up?). The look Lip and Mickey exchanges after Ian's “relationship issues” never fails to get to me either, and I think it's important to note that Lip makes sure that Ian is okay with the situation and then he leaves them to it; he doesn't try to interfere or dissuade Ian. I keep wondering what that means to Mickey, having Lip – who's certainly not a friend at that point – know about him, and about him and Ian, and not really caring beyond making sure his baby brother is okay? I kind of think that maybe Lip and Mandy both showing Mickey that they're aware of the situation but not making a big deal out of it is really fucking important – people can know he's gay without it having to be a thing and without the world ending. Terry is a horrible outlier.

4x11: “Just wondering if we're a couple or not.” Maybe it's the mutual manhandling, maybe it's them trying to negotiate and sort out the current dynamics of their relationship. There's so much tension and so many layers here, history lingering, even as they're both fond and playful: lots to unpack. Damngoodcoffee once noted that Ian almost looks scared when Mickey pushes him to the bed, and I haven't been able to unsee that since, or to forget that the last time Ian pushed Mickey to verbalize the truth of their relationship Mickey kicked him in the face. I also love love love the lead up with Carl and Ian, “do you love Mickey?” – “I like how he smells.” Please take note of Mickey washing his hands: the dirtiest white boy in American is an example to penis pee:ers everywhere.

5x08: “Sorry I'm late.” Ian's surprise, and the look of hesitant wonder as Mickey shows up and moves to lie down next to him, like he can't quite believe that Mickey is really there, that he actually came. Mickey's quiet apology, no excuses or explanations about how he needed some time to deal (which, you know, it's very fair for him to need); he's there for Ian now, putting his own fears and pain and needs to the side to be what (he thinks) Ian needs him to be. That admittedly doesn't work out great for either of them in the end, but still, in this moment, it is what they both desperately crave: to just have each other and find shelter in the other's arms. Ungh. That gentle kiss to Ian's hair, how Ian finally relaxes and reaches up to grasp Mickey's wrist, holding on. It breaks my heart and soothes me, all at the same time.

10x07: Domestic bitches. Probably the scene I've tag ranted about the most, because I. Love. It. To. Pieces. Ian's so glad to be back in a place where he feels at home and can be useful by doing important stuff like picking up shampoo and shit for Mickey (in prison, I think he was acutely aware of them being on Mickey's turf and him feeling a bit not comfortable with being the one in need of protection?) and he's so damned happy that he gets to be here with Mickey. Gets to help him out and playfully slap his ass and kiss his cheek and squeeze his titty and just love him and be with him. And Mickey, being completely unconcerned about this display in front of Sandy; in fact he seems to adore being so obviously claimed and loved and wanted, and that's such a huge shift from the boy who was once terrified by the idea of letting Ian kiss him even in private. Argh. Just. Them being domestic bitches and loving it – and each other – so fucking much. They're giddy with it here and it makes my heart swell.

10x10: “When you know, you know. Right?” I have an absurd weakness for Ian being petty, and Mickey really had it coming here, so. You know. Allow me an evil chuckle. The Byron of it all is an unwelcome distraction (and Mickey gritting out “the love of my life” makes me cringe so hard every single time), but then I look at the absolute glee in Ian's eyes when he realizes that Mickey is going to a hipster concert and yeah, this is Kee's shriek of delight. Mickey looks very good in his shirt and with the hair and the cigarette, and that's always an easy sell with me. (He also looks so uncomfortable with Ian finding out about the concert but, again, he kind of had it coming.) Aah. Ian's certainly not the only petty character on the show, but it just looks better on him than on anyone else. He's got it down.

11x10: “Hit my husband again, I'll fucking kill you.” Mickey isn't even in this scene, and still. I didn't expect Ian to take such a firm stance on this (considering that Lip is his brother and Mickey was not innocent in the fight) but maybe that's why I love it so much? I swear, the jolt I felt when hearing it for the first time, it nigh on knocked me over. “My husband” Ian says, making a point of emphasising the nature of his relationship to Mickey; the Gallaghers generally strike me as having a general expectation of putting birth family above partners when push comes to shove. Fiona certainly did for a long while, and though Lip's kind of screwing his siblings over to create the life he wants with Tami and Fred this season, I think he still sees the sibling group as Ian's primary unit, and Ian wants to remind him that this isn't the whole truth anymore. Also, protective!Ian is glorious. (I love me some brothers on the porch, so even without this line, this is a great scene. But with it – holy mother of God, I've been slain. I'd feel embarrassed about the number of times I played it on repeat the next day, but I'm too old for that shit.)

11x11: Intro Speaking of protective!Ian... I'm sorry, there's just no arguing with the aftercare vibes and I don't even know how to process that properly. Mickey's a little out of it, seems like, since he's rather slow to respond to the intrusion and displays none of his usual intiative and agression, whereas Ian is very quick to shift from gazing lovingly at Mickey to chasing us out with a determination and anger usually reserved for Frank. I mean, how else would you explain it? (And okay, it's an intro and breaking the fourth wall, so speculating about when it happens in canon is of course foolish, but I'm just saying that they're in their new flat with very little furniture still so it has to happen around the time of the last episode but I very much doubt they played around like this when everything was so weird between them so probably not between 11x10 and 11x11, but say they got back to their place after their reconciliation on their old bed and just kept on reaffirming their bond in all possible ways? Yes? Yes.)

Special mention: 10x06 Deleted Bathroom Scene. Mickey is looking fine as fuck – please, do wear black tanks more often, I am begging you, Mick – and his eyebrow game is in excellent shape, and then we have Ian seeing to his wounds (be still my heart) and pulling at his hair when Mickey's just a shade too bratty and Mickey's little look of 'okay sure I had that coming' and I'm sorry, but I am dead now. Deceased. Only two things detract from this otherwise perfect scene: Ian's titties tattoo on prominent and unfortunate display, and the confusion about whether or not Mickey didn't even learn the simplest Spanish words during his stint in Mexico.

So, that's me. I could just as easily have picked seven completely different moment, but I do love all of these very much.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #meta #favorite moments #just thinking about them makes me SO HAPPY #this ask made me so happy #asks

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sly-merlin · 4 years

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Killing Me - 3 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings : curse words, mention of murder, guns, knives. smut and drinking.

new entries : yugyeom, jungkook , wonwoo

words : 4.2k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

curiosity got the cat hitched!

K.M masterlist

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taglist ::t :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! ) @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @exfolitae @minejungwoo

{ 11:15 }

Look before you leap. Had you remembered the saying, you’d not be sitting in front of a mafia boss, regretting your former imprudent actions. Taeyong was sitting on a high back executive chair, aura screaming authority, his high and mighty self, making you feel inferior. His eyes bore into yours as if he could read your soul with his intense gaze.

Your stare equally harmonized with his fierce one.

A loud fake cough from someone interrupted you from ogling at the boss. He indeed looked like a feast, anyone would falter! Getting your much needed attention at this point, taeyong dismissed others from his office with a flick of his hand. The only ones to stay behind in the vicinity of the four walls were you, taeyong and a blue haired man. Out of all, he looked most annoyed with your presence.

“Jaehyun, sit down, it’s going to take a while.” taeyong directed him and the man occupied the empty seat beside you. You could already feel him eyeing you down.

“Miss y/n. I’m not going to beat around the bush. So, listen sensibly.”

Your blood ran cold at his cold and blank declaration. The fierceness of his eyes was seeping through his words making you cower in your position. Your firm resolve to fight for your life was already breaking down and this was just a start.

“I know this is too sudden and It’s normal being apprehensive of this situation but you are not on a very strong front here. Marry yuta or - you know the consequences. And I don’t want you to choose on impulse. This is going to be your last opportunity, so be wise! Nobody wants to die y/n and you certainly don’t! I have a proposal for you. It’s for your own good but if you still decides against me, I promise I’ll grant your last wish without any hesitance and believe me, I always keep my word” he finished, placing his gun on the table to prove his point. You nodded briefly after taking in everything. He continued-

“You will marry yuta, say by the end of this week. But as you sign the registration papers, I’ll provide you the ownership of 3 exclusive properties in gangnam with only one small, harmless condition. You’ll hold title not as miss y/l/n but as Mrs Nakamoto. Moreover, you won’t have to do any job. Your living expenses, all will be managed from our side. Yuta alone is capable of providing you a black card. You can live hassle free. A house, security, what else could anyone want! You won’t have to change a thing in your life. Think of it as an up-gradation.”

You felt like being kicked in the teeth. This man was trying to bargain your whole future with his riches.

“Sounds promising?” He enquired. You pondered over what he said to find any single error to turn the tables but that was out of question until you knew his demands fully. And it wasn’t very promising. when did choosing between life and death became so difficult!

“You can’t assure me my freedom! connecting me with neos is more like booking a room for me to rotten in jail. The security you are talking about is for you I guess. And yuta is more like a noose for me. I’ll be dead one way or another” you uttered, releasing the air you were holding while speaking.

You heard jaehyun snort beside you.

“Your safety will be my top priority and yes, you will be associating with neos, but that is something you don’t need to be worry about. For the outer world, you will be the wife of yuta”.

“What difference would it make?” his explanations going beyond your head.

“Let me explain like this. Have you ever seen a neo member’s face prior to this or heard anyone getting caught?”

“I guess no.”you answered without hesitation.

“Neos doesn’t have faces .…but these faces do have names for commoners like you.”

“You mean double-life?”

“Have you ever heard of moon industries?”

“Who doesn’t have? Moon industries are the 3rd biggest sponsors and investers for almost everything in Korea.”

“Yeah, yuta works there. Anything clicks for you?

You refuse with motion of your head.

“You’ll not be marrying yuta from neos but nakamoto yuta who works in moon industries. Like that, you won’t be getting in any trouble . A legitimate life. You can do anything you want except open your pretty mouth”.

you didn’t like being called that!

“I don’t understand, you said nobody knows you people then what am I even doing here. How that officer did even recognise yuta. I shouldn’t even be here, if your identities are so hidden.”

“See jaehyun, I told you she’s more than just book smart. Listen y/n, mafia doesn’t work like the way you might be thinking. We can’t spill everything to you even if you decide to die the very next moment.

It was hard to believe that he planned all of this while you were held captive, within 9 hours. Taeyong was extremely meticulous and expeditious as well. But there was one more question left and you knew he couldn’t answer it. Nothing came without flaws afterall!

“Why are you being so ‘generous’ to me? My bio data of few pages can’t make you trust me so definitely. You are practically giving me an offer to rant you all to police. I’m sure you don’t grease the palms of all officers and if I-

“Me and you both know that you won’t do it unless you are fed up with your life and that would leave to start de novo!” his words indicated conclusiveness, his raised brows challenging you to refuse him. For now his surety signalled safety, but you still had one defence left or as everyone called it – a plea. It was better to beg than to be between Scylla and Charybdis.

“Is there no other way. I promise you with my life I won’t ever say anything. You can put spies over me or do whatever you want to keep a check on me.” your desperation to fight for your life was evident in your appeal.

“Yes! There is one more solution!” jaehyun chimed, facing you from his seat. He was grinning eye to eye. “We can sell you to an underground escort ring where you’ll happily live until you die and there’d be no neo or yuta or police or career. I’m sure you are shrewd enough to survive there”. nobody mentioned this before!

“If you can’t shut your mouth, then leave jaehyun.” taeyong scolded and he went back to his original position. Jaehyun seemed to be enjoying your state. He hit you with harsh reality you were still unaware of. Maybe,you were really on their mercy now,

“He is joking right?”

“No, he is telling the truth but I want you to make a choice. That hell-hole is not for someone like you. You can do better. Take this as a shortcut to a nice life.”

“How can I believe that you won’t be putting me in the some escort ring as he said to shut my mouth?”

“If I wanted, you won’t be sitting here anymore.”he deadpanned

You were silent. Your mind went blank. No words came to grace your lips. You were trapped and though there were plenty of options, there was none for you. Either you live and marry yuta or die. There was no other way to live.

“And what if my life doesn’t turn out all good?” you asked timidly.

“Then I’ll let you leave. And without any condition”

Finally some hope. You could leave. You would definitely leave.

“Is yuta okay with it?”

“His position is not better than yours.”

“I’m not going to leave university then.”

“Suit yourself! Just don’t convert yourself into a nuisance for us.”

You nodded with head hanging low. You had been beating the air till now, which resulted in nothing but defeat. Taeyong got what he wanted in the end.

“Call jaemin and haechan. Before she goes home, we need to give her a gift. And you made a good choice, you won’t regret it, take my word for it.”

[1 p.m]

Twelve hours has passed. As you were walking towards your dorm, you pinched yourself several times but your reality was now a nightmare from which you’d never wake up. Defeated, you entered your dorm only to lie down in the bed, to regret your life decisions. Graciously, chelin was out till midnight with her boyfriend, so you had all the time in the world. The last 12 hours kept playing in your head like a broken record. You were happy in the club drinking yesterday. if maybe you’d not left them behind, you’d still be incharge of your life game. then that police officer, living off of some mafia group, doyoung , johnny,jaehyun , taeyong and him, the source of your plight. You were suddenly feeling like a kite which till now was flying freely in the air but its thread was now in the grasp of someone who wanted to tie you down by the same, if you think of it, the scales were never balanced! You were always at the losing end. Beggars are never the choosers after all. Sleep unknowingly took over your tired limb while you were wallowing in self-pity.

A ping.

The notification of a text woke you up from your peaceful sleep. You were out for about 4 hours but it felt good as your head was no more pounding. The text was from Jungkook about a party his friend group was organising to celebrate the upcoming finals. they were just partying yesterday with you and now this.

Another ping.

Same text from yugyeom. You sighed in frustration.

Both of your best friends lived in the same place and were always joined by the hip and you were sure they were together at the moment as well but where there’s a question to annoy you, they won’t let the opportunity pass.

You deliberated about telling them everything but you refrained as taeyong’s threat was not a gun without bullet. He warned you before coming and you were supposed to keep your mouth shut. It was better to keep them away from trouble. You were extremely alone.

Another ping.

They were asking about your whereabouts. You never informed them you reached home yesterday. Their worry was visible through their multiple scolding motherly texts. You would have laughed at their antics but your own humorous state rendered you incompetent to feel any joy.

It was not difficult to make them believe that you overslept as everyone knew your shitty professors treated you more like a slave and less like their researcher. But refusing to meet them and declining free alcohol was making them sceptical. You had no option other than going but you’d be anywhere than at a party right now. But maybe some commotion of drunk university students and blasting music could take your thoughts away for some time.

However, first there was another task to be taken care of! You searched ‘Moon Industries’ on naver. There were numerous articles praising their new successful new ventures. You opened their official website, the list of board of directors and associates was not too long. The photo of head director looked too familiar. Maybe it was that short man. And then him. There was no photo but his name was written just few places below moon tail. Taeyong was not bluffing. Nakamoto was an important name and maybe everyone there was, however, it was beyond your intellect as how they managed to do it. There was no way out now. One thing that wasn’t adding up was the properties .your brainwaves couldn’t find a conclusion to those. There was no reason for him to do that when you weren’t left with any choice ultimately. Maybe you’ll find out tomorrow.

You got out of clothes that adorned your body since yesterday. Their smell was enough to make you gag. How could someone fell asleep in these! The cold water of the shower eased your mind fairly. Your eyes were drooping again but sleeping would do you no good. You could run away from your problem like everybody else. Just this once. After showering, you took a brief look at your wardrobe. It was just a college party, with same people so dressing up to impress them was out of tone for you. Not that you were dolling up anyways. You could just wear your pyjama and still outshine any flashy titties out there. At least that’s what kookie and gyeom had been feeding you till now. You took out a black full sleeve v- neck blouse with white shorts. It hugged your upper body tightly leaving just enough space for some air. You looked good and felt good too. Being in no mood to do makeup, you opted for a nude lip to complete your look. You wore the bracelet that you were not supposed to part with but out of habit, you had removed it earlier to shower. Now it adorned your wrist again. It was a band. A gift by taeyong. The bracelet was a tracking device, not that jaemin wasn’t hacking your phone already but they needed to be double sure, just in case. Not like you were going to rant them out. you felt like Taeyong’s threatening voice would never leave your ears.

Yugyeom’s call replaced the voice. They were already waiting for you. You decided to drown yourself in alcohol for one day and enjoy with your friends. The party was at nearby club situated at 10 min distance. Your dorm was nearer to the gates so it was always easy to go out. Slipping into your shoes, you made your way out.

“You will regret this, taeyong” though yuta didn’t show in front of you in basement, he was furious at taeyong for making his life decisions. “First her and now this! the mistake I made was not that big. Slip ups happen with everyone here, including you. So why it’s only me, who’s getting –

“Not a slip up but a blunder yuta” taeyong fumed at him. “Last time, mark almost died because of you. It was my mistake I let it slide. You aren’t getting any more chances. My decision is final” his voice went deeper as he spoke.

“I regret it tae, you know it” his voice filled with guilt. “But don’t feed me the lies. This is not the only reason you’re doing this for. There is something you aren’t telling us”

“There might be. But you already know what you need to! So celebrate your month long vacation. Go to work with taeil hyung. She’s coming tomorrow again and we’ll discuss other matters with her. Be present here. Don’t disappear like you did in the morning.”

Yuta huffed and decided to leave instead of wasting his time on his leader.

“And leave your gun here”

“WHAT NOW?”

“Don’t shout and leave your gun. Corporates don’t carry guns in this country.” taeyong replied calmly, almost in a mocking tone. Yuta removed the gun from holster and handed it to taeyong before turning towards the door.

“Other one as well” taeyong demanded with a smirk.

“Huh, now you’ll ask for my dagger as well!” yuta sneered at him while removing the other pistol from back of the pants.

“I’m not that cruel, yu. Keep your sweetheart with you. It’ll remind you of the absence of your other toys.”. “And don’t forget. Tomorrow at 4. sharp.”

Instead of responding, yuta showed him a middle finger before actually going out.

Mark was standing at the end of the hallway, waiting for yuta already.

“What happened hyung?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing. You are going to be the best man in my wedding” yuta replied nonchalantly. But mark knew there was more to it. Yuta won’t settle down just because he was told to!

“To her?”

“Yeah, who else. Taeyong is getting short on his brain. We might need to replace him soon” he joked but mark could see right past him.

“Hyung. What are you thinking?” he asked cautiously in a scared tone.

“Ruin her life. I’ll make her regret being alive.”

And yuta walked away, leaving worried mark behind him. He didn’t go after him. He knew better not to.

The party was at full blast when you reached. It was always a nice change watching studious snu students washing away their worries. Your soulmates were nowhere to be found but you spotted chelin sitting with her friends on the stairs. It seemed like everyone who knew was there. Your classmates, juniors. Club was filled with students of all ages. Being multi-storey with a parking lot and near the uni., these factors were enough for making it a perfect party spot. After talking to a few fellow classmates, you went upstairs, brushing past chain’s group, who seemed to be too drunk to notice you. There were Jungkook and yugyeom with few others sports physiotherapy students. Being master’s students, you all just went to parties for alcohol and hook-ups and nothing else. And that’s what you were planning to do from the start.

“y/l/n” as yugyeom noticed you, he and Jungkook ran to give you a bear hug.

“I don’t want to smell your armpits, losers. Get away” you huffed while struggling in their tight grip.

“sowwyyyy, we forgot you are under average” jungkook teased you, gyeom giving him a hifi in return.

“You both are so damn irritating.”

“We adore you too, darling” Jungkook knew how much you hated being called that. But alcohol in his system was making him daring. After giving a fist hit to his gut, which did nothing to his sculptured abs, you made your way to the drinks. One, two, three, and within 5 minutes you had enough alcohol in your system to provide much needed numbness to your brain.

“Whoa shortie, what’s with you today? At least wait for us to join you.” kook chimed in with another nickname you hated with your guts.

“You both are already drunk, meaning kook your boyfriend is here and gyeom, your girlfriend. You both are going to forget me in few minutes anyway.”

As if on cue, yugyeom’s girl yeong came into view, giving you a proper hug.

“I’m so sorry y/n, but we have to go. Our department has to work for the fundraiser tomorrow and I’m a designated driver here.” she explained sheepishly. Not like you were dying to talk to them today. The loner, the better.

“Plz take them away. I’ll send you a thank you card tomorrow for your act of kindness.” you said sarcastically, resulting in both of them making faces at you.

“Bye y/n we’ll mwisss uuu” Jungkook lunged at you with a back breaking hug. Then came gyeom and in a minute they were both out of your sight.

Those being out of your way meant no one was there to stop you. Once your body was flooding in alcohol, You made your way to the dance floor. You loved music and dancing came mechanically with that. You were swaying your body, mingling with the music when you felt a pair of hands controlling your movements. You accepted his well-known touch. You both moved side to side for a few minutes before he impatiently lead you towards the back of the club. He was always an eager one, not that you ever denied him. Noticing few people already in each others faces, he moved to the other side, heading towards the car parking. Sprinting towards his car, he hurriedly opened the back car door to lead you in.

“Not here, wonwoo.” he viewed you with his raised brow. “Back!”

“Who am I to refuse you, baby” he said, directing you towards the trunk. He opened it with one swift motion. His legs were swinging outside as he sat on the edge. Pulling you towards him, he kissed you hungrily like hadn’t feasted on you a few days ago. Wonwoo loved your touch, and same was the case with you. That was it, nothing more to description.

“Looks like someone missed me” you whispered in between the kisses.

“You are at a perfect height for me here. God, why didn’t I think of this earlier” and kept attacking your lips until they were plump enough to satisfy him. His tongue asked for entrance, which your lips provided without any hesitation. Your hands were mingled in his hair tugging at the hair roots, earning few groans from him. Somewhere while kissing, you ended up on his right thigh which you were roughly grinding by now.

“As much as I would love you to cum on my thigh, I want to take you raw. So please be patient” he requested while stopping your movements with one hand. His other hand was caressing your back and waist, making you bite him on his lips.

“Shit, you can’t wait huh” he jested at you. he dropped you on your feet, one hand resting against your wet core from behind, other angling your neck to place wet kisses on your collarbones. You whimpered and squirmed against his touch. He had that effect on you. You weren’t sure what drew you both back towards each other after each week but the pull was compelling to you.

After gratified with his artwork he stood up to replace your positions. You were now sitting on edge while he towered over you. Hastily your hand went to remove his belt but seeing you struggling, he took up the task for himself. You removed your own shorts in meantime and placed them where his pants were now. Fortunately for others, the party inside was still lively to engage them and there was no fear of getting caught, not that wonwoo cared. He could take you anytime, anywhere.

He had to lower himself to hold you but he was so used to it by now. Without a warning, he slided you towards his standing body to kiss you ravenously. Your hands did their work on his boxers and started pumping his already hard length. No words were spoken as your silky underwear was removed from your hips. He backed you against the surface to the point you were lying down, his hand on back of your head to support you. His length slipped into you making you whimper loudly. He was big, from everywhere. Skin slapping was the only sound that could be heard in the quite parking lot at this hour of night. His hand on your hip was holding you tight, your legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked and kissed you in his brute mode. If it was not for his arms, you’d have collapsed then and there.

“Fuck y/n. how can you be so tight” he hissed against your lips.

“Shut u-up.” your voice got stuck in your throat. The only thing in your control were your hands on wonwoo’s nape, holding him towards you. The muscles in your abdomen, which could be felt by him, went stiff, your back arching at familiar sensation. His own kisses went sloppier indicating he was also closer. You both released at the same time, warm liquid spilling out of your conjoined bodies. He placed a sweet kiss on your forehead before removing himself from you.

Before you could touch your panties stuck between your legs, he stopped you.

“Wait lemme find something to clean you up” he quickly got dressed, while you sat there with your intertwined legs. He came back from front with a handkerchief. He cleaned you before helping you with your shorts. You were glad for wearing loose shorts as they were easy to transfer with your shoes. With his arm on upper side of trunk, his hunched figure stared you down suspiciously.

“What’s up with you today?”

Not him as well.

“Nothing, I overslept and I’m still tired. So I’ll be going now.” you declared implying that you won’t tell him.

“Okay, as you say. Are you free next Friday though” he asked taking his chances. Again.

“Don’t start again woo? At least you can leave me in peace. I’m going .bye bye. See you after finals. maybe.” you slipped away from under his arm towards the gate of parking lot, only looking behind to wave him goodbye. His followed suit.

You were gone but he’d never stopped trying.

You mentally thanked your friends for giving you an invite as many things were clear in your head now. It was definitely the alcohol and wonwoo but you were much calmer now.

A ping.

Jaemin: don’t forget about tomorrow, noona. Taeyong hyung told me to remind you.

You scoffed at his text. Noona. Some overhyped kid he was!

But his message made you understand that all this was permanent. Sober you or drunken,Your life was changing forever. The tomorrow you were waiting till now was altered.

You went home with same dejection. Taeyong’s last words echoing in your head.

“Life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can. It is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

feedback is appreciated. it serves as motivation for writers! so please leave some honest feedback to help me improve! thanks for reading!!

#tag are not working #nct #nct 127 #nct yuta #killing me yuta #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct arrange marriage #nct smut #nct mafia #nct angst #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta mafia au #yuta arrange marriage #yuta smut #nct series #yuta series

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fleetingpieces · 3 years

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Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right?

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

***

There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill? Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

#everything we were #eww #fanfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #Remus Lupin #remus x sirius #Sirius x Remus #Sirius Black #Marauders #marauder era #hp marauders #marauders fic #hogwarts #cw: slurs #cw: mention of bullying

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i-am-a-whimsy-boy · 2 years

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I've been getting more followers recently (for some reason), so I thought I'd take the opportunity to introduce myself properly and explain as best I can how I organize this blog.

Hello! Hi! I'm Beth!

My pronouns are he/him.

I'm just a horribly disorganized, socially awkward, asexual Canadian university student trying my best to stay sane. Emphasis on trying. Attempts are being made.

Murdoch Mysteries has been my main source of serotonin for the past four years or so, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. George Crabtree and Inspector Brackenreid give me life. All I want from this show is a hug between both of them. I'm still waiting. It'll happen. One of these days.

This is a sideblog, so follows, likes and replies come from @arty-tardigrade, which is my main art blog. (Go check it out if you like!)

(Blog explanations under the cut)

My URL comes from this comedy skit video I randomly came across a while ago and just absolutely fell in love with (this). At one point, he says "but I digress, as I am a whimsy boy" and for some reason, that line just stuck with me.

My profile picture is a frame I drew of George Crabtree when I made an animatic of that one vine. My header is George and Brackenreid, because I love their father-son dynamic and I will never stop hoping they hug one day.

I write an unholy amount of fanfiction, and post a small selection of it over on AO3. You may know me as the person responsible for the Hogwarts AU. Or the Newsies AU. Or maybe the College AU. If you're reading this in the future, there's probably more options. I make a lot of AUs. I haven't even posted half of the AUs that I've made. They just pop into my head when I'm feeling stressed out, and, as you may have guessed, I get stressed out a lot.

Do you do asks?

Yup! You can send me asks all you want; I love hearing from people! It might take me a while because sometimes I think I've replied to something but it turns out that I only thought about replying and didn't actually do it in reality, but I will eventually answer. Send me anything you want, Murdoch Mysteries related or not!

How do you tag?

Most posts I make myself are about Murdoch Mysteries and I tag them as such. For reblogs, I usually use the tag space as space to make comments for some reason, and I usually don't end up tagging Murdoch Mysteries there (maybe I should though).

During active airtime, any posts on my blog (original posts and reblogs) will be tagged with spoiler tags, which I format as "mm(season number in roman numerals) spoilers" (eg. mmxv spoilers). Go ahead and filter that tag if you don't want to get spoilers!

If I'm reblogging something from a fandom that isn't Murdoch Mysteries, I'll generally tag that fandom, in case anyone wants to know what it is.

I've got a couple of tags that I use to "organize" the posts on this blog beyond just the fandom (I'll be updating this as needed):

#don't mind me guys: personal stuff that's only about me.

#HR would have a field day with Murdoch: long posts (rants) that I do about how much of a health/safety nightmare Detective Murdoch is. Yes, I have made multiple.

#you can't teach an old moron new memes: I occasionally make memes and this is the trash heap where they all go.

#*Cue Mail Time Song from Blue's Clues*: when I get sent asks, answers are tagged with this.

#TPBGC: Stands for The Parental BrackenGeorge Conspiracy. Brackenreid is George's adopted father, I don't make the rules. I use this tag whenever there's vaguely parental energy between the two of them in a post.

#incorrect murdoch mysteries: Occasionally, I just drop everything and become an incorrect quotes blog, and those are tagged with this.

#Crabtriq: The ship between George Crabtree and Nuniq. They are romantic endgame, I'm telling you. They've kissed. Nuniq said he would tell George what his name means "another time." It's happening. If people poke me enough, I might finish that Crabtriq slow burn I started writing....

For longer text posts I make, I almost always bold important lines and I usually add a TL;DR to make it easier to read. If there's a way to make it even easier for you, please let me know! I'm always looking to make the reading experience better for everyone.

So yeah! That's me, and welcome to the blog! Nice to have you here!

#don't mind me guys #just your friendly neighbourhood neurotic saying hi :)#I'm gonna link this in my bio by the way so if you ever need to know about my wack tagging system again: it's there

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shadowdianne · 3 years

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Alright, so @delirious-comfort tagged me in something about wips and SHAME. That's what I got. Sure there was something else thrown in there but bottom line: shame! xD She, brilliantly, went for WIPS in the sense of works that have never seen the light and who knows if they ever will -please, I want to know what half of them are about, you evil- Since that's basically impossible on my end of things I'm just gonna go for unfinished stories and call it a day since they are -technically- works in progress

Painted Voices -SQ- Oh boy, 2015. I don't even remember what I wanted to do with this one. It was at the time there were a bunch of stories with either one of them being blind or deaf and I tried to jump into that. I'm ashamed of it and certainly will delete this because I'm sure it sucks and I was an idiot about the whole thing.

The recognizable stranger -SQ- 2015 as well... I remember this one. I have mixed feelings about this but I will simply state that I don't remember what I wanted to do with this one. I was the: What if these two met prior to the events of S1 that existed back in the day.

Words unsaid -SQ- Technically I wouldn't count this as a wip but A03 is marking it as such so I'm going to stick with it xD FixitFic. I used to do a bunch of those with every new episode or so. Eventually, however, I stopped writing them in a single series. I remember having someone telling me that it bothered them that I did it like that and so I started posting them as separate one-shots and I guess I forgot to close the thread of this one.

The missing page -SQ- 2015 againnn, honestly, I don't remember what I wanted to do here. I believe it was about Regina going back into the book or in time and just seeing things from an outside perspective. It was also the time when writing Daniel and Emma as the same person -sometimes Emma having Daniel's soul within her some other times in a more convoluted way- was a thing. So if I remember correctly this was my take to that.

A forgotten promise -SQ- The witcher au before the witcher turned mainstream xD Ah, I'd have loved to finish this one. It required a lot of work and I was in the middle of my uni years and the feedback was... uh. Let's go with uh, so I started to have second thoughts, think it was rubbish and halted it altogether. [For context sake the small amount of ego I DO have tells me to point out I was churning 4 to 7 prompts per day at the same time] I would probably erase it entirely if I tried to do anything with it now so I'll just leave it there.

It feels like magic -SQ- Ohhh, remember when we all did magic realism? I loved that. On this one Regina was transformed into a cat because things and the story revolved around Emma buying her as her familiar. It has 13k posted but I think I wrote like 30k beyond what I ended up posting. Same story: I started to think it was shit; cornered myself into a panic attack and never finished it xD Tag yourself: Dianne doesn't end up their wips edition

Sateen memories -SQ- No fucking clue what that one was about

I'm not afraid of the dark -Princess Rover- It was going to be a rewrite of a bunch of lore back in the Shannara Chronicles all the while shitting on canon and the books but didn't happen.

What you want -SQ- Emma is the Dark One, Hypersexualization of the character. If you have heard me rant loud enough you know I prefer teasing. I got bored.

Nothing is true, everything's permitted.-SQ- The AC au! I also have mixed feelings about this one due to THINGS. It involved lots of studying because I wanted to make an accurate enough portrait of the historical momentum I was writing about. This was in 2017 so whilst I don't remember exactly I know I was working two jobs plus uni so yeah, nah, I didn't have the mind to write more than the prompts I was doing at the time xD

There is no hex or spell I could unlearn with you by my side -SQ- The HP AU. I basically stopped due to -points at JKR- and that it was a series of drabbles so it was linked to the amount of prompts. I remember it was the time Tumblr did an inbox purge, lots like half the prompts, most of them for ever so... it just sits there.

Of magic and prowess -SQ- Steampunk! It was supposed to be the second part of And the cogs are ticking if I'm remembering correctly. Very short and sweet, 5 chapters. I got 11 eleven kudos, 2 comments, about 15 asks stating that they rather wanted me to keep writing prompts than whatever I was doing with this and I said fuck it. Yeah, yeah, the vitriol I have inside is not lost to me.

Tiny nothings -SQ- Same thing as some fics above this one. I started doing lost moments but I ended up migrating it to single oneshots. This one is set in S6 so added to the previous explanation I would also add the: S6 was a pain, one.

Hidden truths -Rizzles- It was a prompt(?) but I was never too sure about my ability to write Maura and my brain shortcircuited.

Deipnon -SQ- Actually this one is co-written. Life happened. Nothing more. -I hope you are doing good Eva, love you lots-

Lost words -SQ- One word prompts. Same story than before really: I wrote them solely on tumblr, someone told me to re-post them on a03, I did, I then got anons telling me that it bothered them, stopped altogether.

The miller's daughter -SQ- Ohhh, I used to love this one. Rewriting of... something I guess xD Enchanted Forest based, total AU but trying to give a Grimm-esque perspective. 2016... who knows what I did xD Again, overworked is the answer.

But I know this night you will come -SQ- Well, actually this one was a trio if I'm remembering correctly... yeah, Regina, Red, Emma. Dunno, is this time to state that I've discovered I'm demi? lol. I'm not sex-repulsed but it bores me to tears writing about it. Give me teasing and I will write a full novella out of it. But sex is *yawn* for me when writing about it.

Ghost of you -SQ- Ohhh Emma!ParanormalInvestigator! I have a bunch of those. There was a mirror, a very angry Queen and far too much worldbuilding to fit into a tiny story. Yeah, I also see that pattern xD

Arcadia -SQ- The only fic I will ever be ashamed that I didn't finish to the point of self-destruction. I actually wrote it, I then lost the files, corrupted, gone, puff. But then I didn't rewrite it and then I felt self-conscious and then... shame.

Beyond -SQ- 2019 Probably one of the last de facto prompts I accepted. I wasn't feeling all that good about my writing. I think I was basically trying to jump start something that had died. I would have loved to finish it. Honestly.

Annnd, that's it! Tagging @rubikanon for this one <3

#taggie thingie

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demivampirew · 4 years

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A night out in Buenos Aires.

Henry x OFC (María).

Triggers: mentions of sex (no smut) and the f word.

Tag list: @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mary-ann84 @desperate-and-broken @peakygroupie @summersong69 @ivvitm1109 @madbaddic7ed @iloveyouyen @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog

A/N: At the end you’ll find the explanation of the *

After almost a year of dating, Henry was finally meeting María's parent. She met him while working with Lauren as her assistant. She's a writer trying to make it in Hollywood, and when Lauren offered her a job as her assistant she could say no. Her boss was great and she could learn a lot from her and the money was a life-saviour. At first, Henry and she had barely any contact at all. She wasn't starstruck by him, mainly because she was not a huge Superman fan - she prefered Batman, to be honest- and she hadn't seen any of his other movies. She liked Henry, though, no in an emotional way or even a physical thing, she just found him to be nice and charming. He was attractive, there was no denial, but it wasn't something that takes her sleep away.

One day, Lauren asked María to deliver something to Henry. It was a few corrections they made in an episode's script that he had to learn. She stopped by the place he was currently staying and after completing her task and ready to go to the house she was staying, he invited her to have a beer, which she accepted since it was Saturday and she had Sunday free. Henry admitted to her that even if he had Kal, he loved to have some company when drinking a cold Guinness. He made clear how much he missed his friends in the centre of London. The situation was familiar to María. She told him most of her family and friends were in Argentina and that she hadn't seen them in over two years when she moved to Los Angeles to pursue her dream job as a writer. She had made some new friends, but she missed her sisters from the heart and her family too. They bonded over the feeling of loneliness and chatting up they found out that they had plenty of things in common. Henry was hurt when he found out she didn't like Superman, so he made his life mission to turn her into team Supes. He gifted comics and movies and would test her to see if she had seen them. She would make long arguments giving reasons of why he was the best superhero and would invite her every Saturday night for a cold beer and some movie. One day there were laughing and ranting about the legendary character and in another, they were making love. Neither of them knew the exact moment when they fell in love with each other, but at least that was something they were sure about: they were in love.

María got scared that Lauren would fire her for no approving her relationship, giving the fact that their jobs were related and might seemed unprofessional, but thankfully she was full on board with the pairing.

Now, a few months of dating, it was time for Henry to meet his girlfriend's parents. He happened to be on the road to promote the show which was set to premiere in a few weeks and since Lauren was on tour with him, she got the chance to go with them. One of the stops was the Argentinian Comic-Con, which was María's homeland, so they decided to visit her parents. The woman wasn't nervous about Henry getting to know her mother and father, but the language barrier was a little bit of an issue.

The couple went to the hotel first to left the luggage and then changed to go to María's parents home. The schedule was quite tight, so the plan was to stop by to have some tea and then Henry had arranged for someone to make reservations in a restaurant, so they could have a true Argentinian experience and explore the city while expending some time together.

She laid her head on his shoulder. He grabbed her hand a kissed her forehead. The car provided by the people in charge of Netflix Argentina for his transportation arrived at the destination. Susana, María's mother, ran to hug her daughter as soon as she opened the door and saw her. Henry greeter her, kissing her only in one cheek, as María had previously pointed out to him that's the way Argentinians greet each other; with his father, a handshake would be more appropriate. The house was small but lovely.

- Es un placer conocerlos (It's a pleasure to meet you).- Henry said to his girlfriend's parents, letting her speechless since she didn't know that he could speak Spanish. - Do you speak Spanish? - María asked him astonished as they walk to the sofa. - I've been taking lessons online while you were working. I wanted to surprise you.- He told her, grinning. She kissed him and sat down with him. Her father was not a man of many words, but her mother was quite chatty. Henry was beyond charming, something that didn't go unnoticed by the woman who gave life to his love. - Ella trabaja con Lauren, la... (She works with Lauren, the...)- he started to answer to Susana's question about how they met, and then he turned into his girlfriend for help to remember the word he forgot which described her job. - Creadora del show (show's creator) - she helped him. - Oh, that's right... Ella es la creadora del show en el que trabajo. (She's the creator of the show I work in)- he explained, proud of himself and his woman chuckled as she noticed that.- A ella no le gustaba el personaje que yo interpretaba, lo cual me sorprendió mucho, por lo que intenté convencerla de lo genial que es Superman y nos volvimos amigos. (She didn't like the character I played, which surprised me a lot, so I tried to convinced her how great Superman is and we became friends).- his rhythm was a bit off and had a little trouble with the r, but his Spanish was surprisingly good.

- He took "fuck the haters" quite literally.- María joked and her boyfriend blushed, looking at her with his eyes wide open and she just smiled. Her parents didn't speak English, so they'd not understand her joke and whenever she would speak in that language, they assumed she was talking to him.

They enjoyed some tea with bizcochuelo with dulce de leche (sponge cake with dulce de leche*) which Henry became obsessed with and asked his girlfriend to remind him to buy a few jars before leaving the country.

At nighttime, they went to the restaurant "El Mirasol" to try the famous Argentinian steak, which didn't delight María given the fact that she was a vegetarian, but fortunately, they found an option for her. After the dinner - and after Henry met the people in charge of cooking and took some photos, they went to a café called "Café de Los Angelitos" to take a coffee and watch some Tango dancers. Henry made her promised that they would go back to visit her parents when they had the time and to explore the city some more.

The next two days were quite busy for them. María stayed most of the time with Lauren and Henry spent time greeting fans and then he had a Netflix panel and the event at the Argentina Comic-Con. The woman's parents assisted the event and brought their daughter a few treats to enjoy on the plane and a few jars of dulce de leche, after seeing that Henry enjoyed too much.

As they were on the plane to Brasil, the Argentinian girl asked her man why didn't he speak in Spanish during the convention and he admitted that whenever he gets in places with big crows, his heart starts to pump and his adrenaline rises and he forgot how to speak the said language, which made the girl chuckled and kissed him; he was adorable.

*Dulce de leche is an Argentinian confection of sweet milk cooked down until it's the colour and consistency of caramel sauce or butterscotch - something like Nutella but is sweeter.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill one shot #demivampirew

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alexandria-morrowgrove · 3 years

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Mereldri.(OOC post)

I haven’t made a post on this because as far as I’ve taken this if you’re being bullied, harassed, and bothered I did what you’re supposed to do. I blocked you, I ignored you, and I told my guild to go on a Do Not Engage. Back in July. We’d had warnings prior because of your attitude toward us, your negative behavior, and overall demeanor when interacting with us which had you on warning in April of this year.

You’ve followed my guild members on patrols to harass them, interrupt rp, you’ve encouraged members to get hit by meteors and hopefully perish. You’ve gone on tumblr and repeatedly wished my guild ill, you wish we’d fall apart and that the RP we do get dries up and we utterly fail. Why wouldn’t we have you on a permanent block?

We’ve had you on ignore since July, if people ask us why we tell them. That’s why the screenshots exist. I’ve also had Marcel on block since prior to the DNE we placed on him in March. People asked us and we’re honest. You meta game. You god mod. You’d self insert into situations we were asked to be in, constantly berated us, and then wondered why we’re upset?

The Butcher plot that led to the ultimate DNE moment happened because we were told Butcher was ICly hiring people to kill corrupt guards and had our OOC consent and permission to kill my character, to kill Terran’s character, and to go after higher ranking guard members because of the proposed corrupt RP we were never doing. (Which none of us spoke to him, knew about the plot, or consented to any of that as a heads up.) I personally had him on block, he’d been removed from my guild after entering it to spy on us to further cause issue, and he NEVER at any point asked for my consent, to collaborate, or to talk about that plot he then hired people we never knew to actively attempt attacking people. I had to take Butcher off of ignore to even perform the RP that came up. (And as for your bnet theory crafting we suspected one of the party members was either you or Price with the behaviors and used WoW armory to check. Because achievements and pets match account wide we can figure that out without befriending. For that explanation.)

Beyond outstandingly gross behaviors of claiming you’re an arch druid that can sense all life forces within Stormwind, and knowing exactly who each and every life force is, and can in fact find them instantly despite any and all wards or anti magic fields being up is why we had constant issues. The screenshot involving the pirates? You meta gamed knowing where they were after they’d told us they didn’t want to be found and we agreed to let them escape. (Bounty’s are still up for them by the way, because we communicated with them where as you did not.)

The incident with Marcel’s character in the canals? You meta gamed knowing exactly where they were -instantly- despite them putting up anti magic wards and told us it’s because you’re an all powerful arch druid that can sense life forces of *everyone* in Stormwind.

Those are two incidents we had any level of screenshots on. But you’d perform this self inserting I’m self aware of where everyone is 24/7 at all times of the day to force yourself on guard RP for harassment purposes and meta gaming purposes. You’d fail to communicate, get consent, and furthermore openly tried to encourage people to disengage RP with us for your variety of reasons you’ve crafted up on your own.

We are well aware you and price are two different people. But for a majority of these issues you’ve grasped onto you are both working together in a common group to harass us and make false claims. We’ve not harassed or gaslit you, I’ve had you on block consistently for going on almost 6 months now. I’ve had you on block before then too because of your constant negative behavior toward us.

You are unhealthily obsessed with us, you continue to wish ill on us and I’m asking you to stop. Cease and desist for the love of everything and go get help. We’ve made no moves on you, we’ve not gone out to witch hunt you, we’ve made no public posts until now. Despite you telling me how to RP my characters and that I’m not allowed to RP anything other than a guard I do find it extremely hypocritical how you stand for values you do not follow clearly depending upon your mood of the day.

You’ve moved to Moonguard and I wish you the best in finding RP in your new place of existence. However I’m not taking you off the block here, I’m not taking you off of ignore in WoW. But I am addressing this because I am exhausted after seeing going on 8+ months of ‘call outs’ and out right bullying you’ve shot toward my guild despite us doing all we can to simply get away from you, Price, and Marcel. We will continue to tell people the truth in what’s occurred with the screenshots you’ve seen if we’re asked. But know that none of us are going out of our way to cause issues. We don’t want to. But you’ve refused to stop prodding at us no matter how many of us ignore you.

For the screenshots she’s going on about there’s the spine of death wing post and the 39 page rant with plenty of theory crafting in it that contains...many...many...presumed things that aren’t true. We have a folder of screenshots on you because of the DNE. Nothing more. We have a file on John Connor because he’s had his numerous issues with us and the community of WrA at large that we’ve publicly warned people about.

Again. Seek mental help for your obvious rage issues and obsession issues, stop circumventing ignores and blocks to ill wish and harass us as a guild. That’s all you have to do is stop. You haven’t.

I wish you the best.

-Alexandria Morrowgrove. City Watch GM.

For the post reference in which I’ve been openly called scum it is here: @spineofdeathwing (By no means am I like ree at spine. I understand entirely they get submissions and post them.)

And though she’s blocked on my end. @starmoon-legacy (If it tags with the block. I’m unsure if it will.)

And because I directly mentioned Terran @terranlloyd.

#Please stop #You're actually gaslighting and bullying us #My guild blocked you six months ago take the hint for the love of god #OOC #Sorry I normally dont do this but I am tired.

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heoneyology · 4 years

Text

fateful coincidence [1] | l.jh

A/N: does anyone even read my stuff anymore...? anyway, I jokingly told rani (who I can’t even tag anymore or don’t know what blog to tag-) that I should just write my jooheon dreams as fanfics, because then I would at least be writing something instead of being on hiatus. and she took it seriously and said yes. so here we are.

Word Count: 7148

Genre: chaebol/heir!au, slice of life, soft angst, humor? (am I even funny?), romance (slow burn)

Pairing: reader (fem) x lee jooheon (monsta x)

Warnings: mature themes/suggestive, language, there will be... sugar daddy themes... later... but not like sexually idk if this is a warning???

Summary: Lee Jooheon is a well-known heir to a global hotel conglomerate, and is next in line to take over the family business. You’re a journalist aspiring for more, but barely managing to pay your own bills at the end of the month. The two of you are from entirely different worlds, yet fate somehow tangles your threads, and Jooheon seems to know an intriguing amount more about you than he lets on.

“You mean to tell me they just dropped out? Randomly at the last minute like that?”

The voices of your coworkers had been floating around overhead for many minutes longer than you would’ve liked, by now. Why they couldn’t gossip over their coffee delivery somewhere else was beyond you. Why they had to do it at all was further unfathomable. Attempting to push their voices out of your head and concentrate on your work, you rub your temple, squinting at the computer screen in front of you.

“Apparently the journalist got sick and they had no one else to cover from that company. So they called us,” your friend and coworker, Yoo Kihyun, answers the other speaking in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s tomorrow, though!” The original speaker complains, pressing forward further, “And we’re such a small publication! How can they expect us to take place for the other last minute like this?”

You’re not sure which is louder in your mind, at this point: The complaining of your coworkers—specifically the female senior whose name you’d forgotten—or your typing. With each passing word they utter of annoyance or disbelief, mixed with Kihyun’s logical explanations, the clacking of your fingers against the keyboard beneath your hands quickens, intensifying, before you finally let out a harsh sigh and push yourself away from your desk in frustration. There’s no way for you to concentrate if they’re all going to stand around and gossip like high schoolers.

“Isn’t this good for us, though?” You speak up suddenly, causing the small group to glance over at you in surprise. Typically, you weren’t one to bother with their idle chit-chat breaks. The fact that you were doing so now took them by surprise. Even Kihyun quirks a curious brow at you.

Before you speak up again, you roll your shoulders and give a small stretch. Between their nonsensical worried rambling and your own pile of work, you could physically feel the stress building up in your body. “That they invited us, I mean? As such a small publication?”

In your mind, it made more sense to be excited over being a small publication, taking a larger publication’s place, to any event. Even if it was simply as a fill-in due to a last minute call out—and even if it was a lone instance that may never happen again.

“None of us know anything about the content of the story—how the heck are we supposed to write on it?” The female senior who had been whining up until this point whines once more, and your eyebrows shoot up on your forehead in surprise. Even Kihyun, who is standing next to her, quirks his curiously raised eyebrow back at her instead of you.

Before you can think of the words that pop into your mind, and process them, you blurt out, “And you went to school for journalism?”

As soon as the question falls past your lips, immediately landing heavily into the air of the room, you tense your jaw—realizing just what it was that you said to your senior. But really, how could you go to school for something and refuse to write about it simply because you were unfamiliar with the content?

Next to her, the rest of your coworkers share curious glances. Kihyun presses his lips into a hard line to keep from snickering. Thankfully, rather than say anything, she simply scoffs and stalks off back to her desk. You watch, holding back a grimace by biting down on your lower lip, embarrassed over the slip of your own tongue.

With yet another sigh, you plop back down into your seat. As you do so, the group disperse their coffee gossiping, and you prop your arms on your desk and drop your face into your hands, fingers rubbing your forehead. There was a pounding just beyond your forehead, a mix of stress from work and the unnecessary blabbering that had been filling the workroom just moments ago. But, now, there was an added tension due to a fixation of worry over your lack of filter.

Beside you, the noise of the chair at the desk next to you shifts, signifying Kihyun’s return. At the sound of ice cubes clattering against each other, you lift your face from your hands to see Kihyun giving you a sideways glance, setting an extra cup of coffee on your desk. When you make eye contact with him, he quirks a brow at you, and there’s a sudden urge to smack his eyebrows straight off his face. They’re going to get stuck like that, someday.

“What?”

“You really don’t think before you speak, do you?” He muses, leaning back in his chair and scooting it back to his own work space.

“Tell me something we both don’t know already,” you grumble, reaching for the coffee. Giving the cup a small shake, you watch the ice cubes swirl around within the confines of the plastic amidst the milky brown liquid. “But seriously, how can you go to school for this and then decide just because you don’t know something, you won’t report on it? That defeats the purpose of both the job and the degree…”

“Not everyone has the work ethic you do,” Kihyun replies simply, glancing at you. “Drink the coffee. It should subside the headache. You’re overworking and stressing yourself.”

Surprised, you give Kihyun a dumbfounded blink. “How—?” You start, before cutting yourself off with a small shake of your head. Kihyun was observant, and after years of knowing him, as much as you wanted to ask him how he knew you had a headache and were stressed, it was better not to. It would only lead to him chastising you, anyway. Following his instruction, you lift the straw to your lips and take a sip of the coffee.

Satisfied, you set the coffee back down. It’s your turn to rant, now, similarly to your senior journalist. “Seriously, though, how hard can it be? Isn’t this just an event for the global opening of some hotel? The press probably won’t have any time to ask personalized questions, they typically don’t during those kinds of events.”

Kihyun pulls his gaze away from his work at his own computer, turning back to you. However, before he can answer he blanches. Curious, you glance at him, before glancing over your shoulder to see what exactly he’s staring at. As you turn, a white envelope is simultaneously stuck in your face, and you startle in surprise, practically jumping out of your chair.

“Sh-shit! Team leader!”

Minhyuk, towering above you, gives the envelope a little wave and smirks. “Since you seem so confident about this story, here’s your invite to the event.” Before you have a chance to react, Minhyuk loosens his grip on the envelope, allowing it to fall from his grasp to your lap. You scramble, attempting to catch it as it falls, watching his back as he walks towards his desk. “It’s a black tie event, by the way.”

You feel the color drain from your face, mouth dropping open. “Black… tie…?”

“Is there a problem?” Minhyuk asks, glancing up at you from where he sits at his desk across the room. You clench your jaw, sharing a glance with Kihyun before shaking your head. “Then I expect this to be your best article yet.”

By this point, your jaw is clenched so tight your teeth are grinding together. Letting out a silent sigh through your nose, you turn back to your computer. Slowly, you can feel yourself slump down in your seat further, in defeat.

You really don’t think before you speak, do you? Kihyun’s words echo in your mind, taunting, as you set back to work—heavy with more stress than before.

—

Hours later, you find yourself with your cheek resting against the cool glass of the bus window, blankly staring out at the scenery passing by in a blur. You close your eyes, the movement and slight jostling of the bus making the ache of your head worse. Your head pain hadn’t eased up for the rest of the day, much to your displeasure, and the turmoil of thoughts running through your head hadn’t helped to ease it up in any way, either. You’d ended up straining both your eyes and your mind further by trying to push past the migraine in order to focus on your work, which you suppose had made everything all that much worse.

“I’m too poor for this…” you mumble, dejected. A freaking black tie event that you had no money for. Now, you felt the need to complain as all your coworkers had—except for completely opposite reasons.

“Shouldn’t have opened your mouth.” Next to you, Kihyun is quick to answer.

You lift your head off the cool glass of the window, scowling at Kihyun where he sits next to you, browsing on his phone. “Are you a broken record?”

Lowering his phone, Kihyun lifts his gaze to you before offering a shrug, and you sigh in exasperation. You let your head fall back to the pane of the window with a lack of control, knocking against it, further jostling the pain throbbing in your head.

“Is your headache gone?” Kihyun asks.

“No.”

“And you just—” This time, Kihyun is the one who sighs in exasperation. “Look, I know financially it’s not the best thing to happen to you, but this could be good for your name. And for our company, like you said.”

“I don’t have money to go out and spend on fancy clothing, Kihyun,” you grumble, squinting out the window. The light is starting to hurt.

“It’s not prom season. Just buy a dress and then return it after you wear it.”

As the bus begins to slow, a bus stop nearing ahead, you lift your head off the glass of the window again. You give your head a small shake, pursing your lips. “My moral compass is disappointed in you, but not surprised, that you’d say something like that.”

He chuckles as the bus completely stops, and you gather your bag and stand, squeezing past your legs he tucks in. “Good luck. Text me when you get home.”

You scoff, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why should I text the good for nothing best friend that won’t even go dress shopping with me?”

Though you say this, you both know you’ll text him. Your relationship with Kihyun tended to be a bit of a push and pull, but he was easily the one person you could rely on for anything. And as much as you would quip your words at him, neither of you took it to heart. Kihyun had already made prior plans before this had come about, anyway, and you couldn’t fault him for that.

When you exit the bus, you turn to watch it pull away. Unsurprisingly, Kihyun has scooted toward the window you’d just been occupying, and you give him a small wave before he and the bus are out of sight.

Your head is still pounding, and as you walk up the street a ways in the direction of the mall, you decide it’s probably best to make quick work of this shopping spree considering how the pain hasn’t eased up all day. Neither coffee nor food had helped, and though you knew it was caused by stress—there wasn’t much you could think of that might lessen the stress and ease the headache. You just hoped you’d be able to sleep that night.

Just find a simple dress and go. Anything that will pass for the event, you don’t need to look good.

Of course, that’s much easier said than done. You’re on your fifth store before you find anything that might pass for the type of event you’re headed to. With each store, you watch the prices of the clothing increase. The time of the year means no sales, and because the type of clothing you’re looking for is so specific, it also means that what you’re looking for is bound to be more expensive than usual. Or, rather, at the very least—way out of your budget for the month.

You pull away from a few racks, adding another dress over the small stack draped across your arm. Resigned to your fate, you turn to find a dressing room to sort through the stack you’ve collected. From your peripheral, you realize as you turn someone is walking down the aisle, and you both shift to make room for the other. Without regarding the person, you mumble out an, “excuse me,” out of courtesy as you pass—that is, until a mysterious force of momentum works against you and you don’t pass at all, but rather find yourself stumbling backwards.

Simultaneously, you and the stranger both let out an almost-strangled sound of surprise, and you feel your grip on your clothing articles slip from your grasp, falling to the floor with the hangers clattering against the tile underfoot. Before you join the clothing in your fall, you feel a hand instantly reach out to grab hold of your elbow and steady you. For a brief moment, you glance down at the clothes, before lifting your gaze to the stranger who’d kept you from falling.

In the process of lifting your gaze up to the stranger’s face, you catch sight of the cause of all this—one of the clothing hangers in his arm is linked with one of your dress hangers that had been so abruptly ripped from your grasp. You let out a small exhale of amusement from your nose, before meeting the curious eyes of the man who you’d gotten caught by—or rather, literally caught on.

He quirks a brow at you, clearly having heard your soft laugh.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t—” You stammer out, straightening yourself up and giving a nod towards his arm. “I just thought that was funny.”

“Hm?” The sound stems from the back of his throat, confused, before he blinks down at his arm and breathes out, “Oh… oh—” and then he’s glancing up at you, his round and curiously lit brown eyes suddenly sparkling with a sort of panic. “I’m sorry!”

A chuckle escapes past your lips, more audible than your tiny snort of air from earlier, now amused by his reaction. “It’s fine, it was an accident,” you reply, crouching down to collect the fallen dresses. As you do so, he reaches to his arm to unhook the dress. Before handing it back to you, he eyes it for a moment, gaze flickering briefly to the stack you’d recollected.

“Going to a big event?” He inquires, mild curiosity in his voice. If not for the events that had just transpired, you would have thought him to be prying.

“Thanks,” you murmur, accepting the dress. “Yeah. Technically, it’s for work, but it’s formal and I don’t have anything… fancy or nice.”

The man nods at the dress he’d just given back to you. “That one’s the fanciest, if you ask me. If you’re wanting to spoil yourself a little bit, even though it’s for work.”

While the opinion of a stranger means nothing in particular to you, you still find yourself eyeing the dress he’d returned. It was fancy, you had to agree—but more in a simple, stunning beauty sort of way. With a plunging neckline, the black dress was simple yet elegant. And definitely not something you’d consider your style.

Rather than say that, though, you just give a small smile. “It’s also the most expensive one. I’ve got a budget and this party wasn’t in it until about seven hours ago…” You drape the dress back over your arm, giving the stranger a smile. “Anyway, thanks for your input and thanks for not letting me fall when we got snagged.”

Instantly, he returns your smile, and you’re almost surprised at the deep dimples that break out on his cheeks. “Have a good night. Be careful not to run into anyone else.”

You don’t think anything of the stranger and his dress recommendation until you’re in the dressing room, cycling through the different dresses you’ve chosen and trying them all on. Despite your better judgement, you keep ending up back on that one—the black floor-length dress with the plunging neckline that you thought you’d never be able to pull off, yet somehow hugs the curves of our body almost perfectly. Each time you try it on, you end up grimacing into the mirror and returning to one of the other dresses. It’s not your style. It’s not what you usually wear. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be…

None of the other dresses seem to fit you just as perfectly, and none of them tug on your heartstrings the way that simple black gown does. While you’d already resigned yourself to the fate of going way over budget for the month because of this whole endeavor and your giant mouth speaking out of turn, it takes you almost thirty whole minutes of groaning and grumbling the dressing room, physically pained by the dent this is going to leave in your bank account—before you find yourself at the register checking out, having chosen the black dress anyway.

“Oh,” the girl at the checkout breathes out as you’re busy fumbling through your purse for your wallet. You pay her exclamation no mind, until you hear the next words, “You must be who he was talking about.”

He? Who’s he?

“Huh?” Again, your mouth allows for a dumb reaction to fall past your lips without first thinking it through. You pull your gaze up from your purse to stare at the cashier.

“There was a handsome dimpled man who was here buying a suit earlier, said he ran into a girl who seemed stressed over buying a dress, and that he wanted to pay it forward…”

A moment of silence suspends between the two of you, before you blanch. “Pay it forward?!” You blurt out, voice raising an octave in panic. The girl at the cashier startles in surprise, and you immediately snap your mouth closed and swallow, attempting to calm your panicked heartbeat. “Sorry I just—what?”

Who the hell pays anything forward these days? Let alone for a ball gown? In your chest, you can feel your heartbeat quickening back into a panicked state, and somehow it seems to fall into sync with the throbbing of your headache that you’d almost forgotten was there. The constant pain had slowly fallen into something akin to a static white noise you’d pushed down.

The cashier can’t do anything but shrug at your confusion, fumbling as she works to fold the dress into a box and bag it, pushing it across the counter towards you. She seems to want to be done with you—and honestly, you can’t blame her, after your sudden outburst.

“There’s a gift receipt in the bag if you need to return it.”

You forget to text Kihyun you’ve made it home when you do, too distracted on the bus ride back to remember to do so.

—

You’re relieved, the next day, that the migraine which had been tormenting you for the majority of the day before is gone. You’re also slightly confused, having been so accustomed to the constant throbbing in your head for days now that you’d just assumed it was some sort of karmic punishment you were receiving, for something you’d clearly done and forgotten about. The throbbing just beyond your forehead and eyes had become such a constant, too, that the lack of pressure almost makes you feel, ironically enough, empty. The last thing you really needed was an excuse to dwell on all your stresses with a clear head.

Of course, that being said, Kihyun’s chastising blaring through the speaker of your cell phone is enough to bring the migraine back—or at least threaten to, anyway. Thankfully, it doesn’t, and you grimace as you hold the phone away from your ear, listening to his scolding from afar.

Because of the event and your migraine from the day before, which had been chronic for almost a week now, you’d skipped work. You figured if your job wasn’t going to take care of the expenses for anything else concerning this event, the least they could do was allow you to take the day off to properly prepare, considering how expensive it had gotten. Both of those reasons had led to you taking the day to sleep in, though, until the late afternoon, when you prepped for the evening and got ready. Kihyun had called you just as your cab ride to the venue—the hotel—had ended, and had proceeded to scold you almost immediately after picking up the phone for not only skipping work and worrying him over that and your health, but also for not telling him you’d gotten home safely.

As much as you appreciated his worry as your best friend, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a small bit of annoyance. If he had been so worried, why wait until almost six in the evening to even bother reaching out? When you’d woken up, and even as you were getting ready—going extra lengths to not only style your hair, but put on makeup—Kihyun hadn’t texted or called.

“Ki, can I call you later? Or tomorrow?” You finally place the phone back at your ear, interrupting his ranting, watching others similarly dressed to the nines mingling about in the hotel lobby. Kihyun’s phone call had come at an inopportune time, right when the ribbon cutting ceremony had begun. Now, with the hotel officially open, people were milling about and exploring.

The streets had been crammed upon your arrival, and you’d asked the taxi driver to drop you off a bit of ways down the block, not wanting to deal with the crowds and traffic. It had ended up working to your advantage, since it also meant taking Kihyun’s phone call away from the noise of everything going on, and the cheering that had ensued. You lift your free hand up, glancing down at the delicate watch encircling your wrist. The press event would be starting soon.

“What?” Kihyun’s voice is a bit harsher than usual. What the heck is wrong with him? He’s being a brat.

“I’m already here at the hotel. Since Minhyuk is going to kill me if this isn’t my, ‘best article yet,’ I should probably focus more on my work at hand, don’t you think?” You explain, glancing around the lobby of the hotel.

It’s grand. Fancier than anything you could ever afford to stay at, with marble floors and vaulted ceilings, decor ranging from colors of golds, black, and deep burgundies, and windows that spanned the entirety of the wall up to the ceiling itself. At that moment, it looked more like the home of a conference than the grand hotel that it was, with tables and posters set up explaining the project this specific hotel chain was aiming for—but the small details stood out to you the most.

Before Kihyun can get a word in edgewise, you continue, “I’m sorry if I upset you by not contacting you last night—but a lot happened yesterday and I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to rest. If you were so worried, you should have called before now to check up on me.”

You aren’t entirely sure if it’s you being petty, or him—but you hang up before he can fire back, not wanting to spoil the night ahead. Not that you were here to spoil yourself at all. You had work to do, and while you hadn’t needed to be at the ribbon cutting event, the press conference was something you couldn’t skip out on. Especially because of a whiney Kihyun.

Just as you slip your cell phone into the clutch you’d chosen to match your dress, a voice perks your ears. “Was that your boyfriend?”

Despite the vague familiarity of the voice, you still startle in surprise, spinning around on your heel—you hadn’t expected anyone to be eavesdropping on your conversation.

“You—” The word blurts from your mouth in surprise, though this time you manage to catch your tongue before you say anything you might regret, as you had done in the first place to get yourself to where you currently were.

The man from the mall department store stands in front of you, stunning in a plain black suit and white dress shirt. A simple chain encircles his neck just beneath the collar of the shirt, adding a slightly rougher edge to his sleek, professional appearance. There’s a neutral expression on his face, his eyebrows raised at his question aimed toward you and a small, polite smile at the edges of his lips. Despite that, though, his eyes hold a hint of curiosity—something you’d noticed the day before, as well. Maybe it was simply the shape of his eyes, or perhaps the color, but they seemed to be constantly sparkling, alight with unconveyed feelings and expressions of their own.

“No, that wasn’t my boyfriend.” You aren’t entirely sure why you answer him in earnest, especially after he’d gone and bought such an expensive dress for you—a complete stranger. Shouldn’t that typically be a warning sign to head the other way?

“I see you chose the dress, after all,” the man muses, as though reading your mind. Suddenly, his polite smile is broadening into something a little brighter, dimples indenting his cheeks. The sight of the deep impressions causes your heart to pull in your chest. He looks so boyish, you think.

But that’s all the dimples provide to his demeanor, aware of the way his eyes suddenly trail down your form. You become hyper-aware of the way the satin clings to you, and subconsciously scramble to lift your half-open clutch to cover the deep v-neck of the dress. He seems to take the hint of your self-conscious change in demeanor, bringing his eyes back up to meet your gaze—though pausing halfway when he notices that which you had been trading your phone for in your purse.

The way he steps forward, invading your personal bubble, has you tensing—a stark contrast to the comfortable yet shy trade you’d had the day before. His hand reaches up to gingerly trail up the lanyard dangling from your hand, which had fallen from the purse, before tracing over the face of the ID card attached at the end.

“You’re press?” He wonders, before he reads your ID aloud. The way his name falls from your lips causes your heart to lurch into your throat, his voice smooth and honey-like. He lifts his gaze to yours, his dimpled smile broadening. “I’m Jooheon, nice to meet you.”

Jooheon… The name lingers in your mind for a moment, just as he allows his hand to fall from your ID and he steps back. Why does that name sound familiar?

“You should probably head to the conference room, before you’re late.”

“Oh, shit!” His words suddenly spur you out of your thoughts, and the distraction of him in of itself, and you scramble to close your clutch. You had just been annoyed at Kihyun about the possibility of being late to the press conference, and now you were allowing yourself to be distracted by this clearly rich and overly handsome dimpled boy. “I need to go, I’m sorry to rush off like this! Thank you so much for the dress!”

You had wanted to discuss how to pay him back, somehow, but at that moment you find yourself rushing off away from him, instead, pushing yourself through the small clusters of people who block your way. Briefly, in your haste, the thought of if you’ll see him again passes through your mind. What if you didn’t? What if you couldn’t repay him for the dress? Inwardly, you groan, wondering how everything in the span of the last twenty-four hours had become such a confusing mess.

Trying to clear your mind of that specific worry and focus on the task at hand. You flash your press ID at the door before entering the conference hall, trading the lanyard out once more for your phone as you fumble to open a recording app, taking a seat. It happens to be just in time for the first speaker to enter the room, introducing himself as the hotel’s manager. As you listen to the gentleman speak, you idly flip through a pamphlet that had been handed to you on your way in—skimming over the details of the hotel itself, the history of the owners and shareholders and their other hotels, and the overall goal for this specific hotel line as a luxury eco-friendly brand, and more. Having done no specific research before going into this mess, none of the words particularly stick with you in understanding.

“Now, I’d like for you all to give a round of applause for the heir of the line and next CEO, Lee Jooheon—”

Lee Jooheon…

Jooheon…

Your ears instantly perk up, and just as your head snaps up in surprise, the familiar name doing cartwheels in your head, you catch sight of the dress man entering the conference hall with an even more familiar dimpled smile.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me…” you breathe out.

As he takes center stage, he gives a bow that is met with a round of applause, before he introduces himself. “Thank you all so much for joining me tonight for this event. My father put this project in my hands, and while it’s been challenging at times, it’s also revealed to me the hard work that he’s done through the years to get our hotels to where they are today. Tonight, I’m going to share with you our next global chain of hotels and introduce you to my ideas and the business plan from here onward…”

Jooheon continues to speak, and your phone records idly where you hold it between numb fingers. Similarly, your mind feels almost as numb as your grip does—turning over everything that had happened to you in the last day. You’d told yourself that you wouldn’t spend time thinking about these events, that you had work to focus on. But somehow, the events and your work had intertwined and tangled, and now you weren’t sure what it all meant. Surely, at this point, it wasn’t karma any longer? Right? But you also didn’t believe in weird twists of fate… so how the heck had this domino effect transpired?

You barely pay attention to the press conference, forget to engage and ask your own questions, and find yourself slumped at the hotel’s bar when everything is said and done.

When the bartender steps up to you, you barely lift your head from where it rests in your hand, sudden exhaustion overtaking you. “I need something stronger than that free champagne they’re passing out, please. A rum and coke will do. But make it heavy on the rum.”

“Sure thing.”

“You can put it on my tab,” a sudden familiar voice adds in, and immediately the exhaustion is replaced with a shot of panic straight through your system. You immediately straighten yourself up.

“No,” your voice is firm, and you glance over your shoulder—this time unsurprised by Jooheon’s sudden appearance, hands casually tucked in his suit pockets making his stance reveal just how broad he is. It almost distracts you, before you set your jaw. “We are not putting it on your tab, you’ve already done enough.”

“Does this mean you’re taking back your gratitude for the dress?” Jooheon wonders, stepping forward to claim the seat at the bar next to you. “Did you not like it after all?”

When the bartender sets the glass down in front of you, you’re quick to lift it to your lips and take a drink, wrinkling your nose very slightly at the taste of the rum burning down your throat, before turning to Jooheon.

“No, I’m very grateful for the dress—although my conscience is telling me I shouldn’t be,” you scowl at him. “Why would you even buy this expensive dress for me? For someone you don’t even know? And now you want to pay for my drinks?”

Jooheon frowns, only turning away from you briefly to accept a drink the bartender has set on the countertop for him, before giving you a thoughtful expression. “Is this not how you flirt with someone you find attractive?”

Dumbfounded, you blink at him, trying to process his words. Attractive? It was definitely just the dress… no, that doesn’t make sense, he’s the one who bought the dress before even seeing me in it… You shake your head, taking another drink. Two swigs, and the small glass of rum and coke is gone. You motion to the bartender for another.

“You should slow down a bit.”

Despite his warning, you have no intentions of doing so—especially as an instruction coming from a stranger somehow intent on concerning himself in your affairs. “I need this. I’ve had a hard…” Day? Week? Month? All of the above, really, though the past twenty-four hours have really hit you the hardest.

“Life,” you settle on.

“I can drink to that.” Jooheon raises his glass as another rum and coke is placed in front of you. Though you don’t toast him back in return, you both drink at the same time.

As you lower your glass from your lips, swallowing, you let out a small sigh. “This isn’t how you flirt with anyone.” Although his question has long since passed, you finally give him an answer, turning to look at him. You feel your heart skip in your chest, taking note of the fact that he’s already staring at you intently—as though, since sitting down, he hadn’t taken his eyes off you in the first place. Your next words have him frowning.

“In fact, you shouldn’t even be flirting with me in the first place. I’m just here for my job, nothing more.”

“Is this because you found out who I am?”

Your answer comes quicker than either of you expect, a sharp, “Yes,” exiting your mouth without hesitation. Jooheon raises his brows in surprise, and you purse your lips, staring hard at your drink before deciding you need more of the alcohol in your system, between your stresses of life and the current awkward reality of the situation at hand, lifting the glass to your lips again.

“So you’re telling me, just because I’m a chaebol, just because I’m rich, and just because you’re a journalist—I’m not allowed to flirt with you, or pay for things for you?” Jooheon asks. “Although, I will admit, maybe the dress was a bit out of line. But you seemed stressed and I was feeling generous, I just wanted to help someone. You or otherwise, it could have been anyone yesterday I did that for.”

“That is exactly what I’m saying. But, also, you don’t just go and spend money on random people without knowing them. It’s not common, and can be taken the wrong way.”

Jooheon shrugs. “I don’t really care how people take it.”

The luxuries of being rich, you want to blurt aloud in retaliation. If only you had enough money to splurge and spend on people you knew and didn’t know, otherwise, just because you were simply feeling generous as he was.

“I’m not a charity case,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, pursing your lips and glaring down at your drink.

“You never minded this before,” Jooheon retorts, just as softly, the tone of his voice sulkier than it had been.

Surprised, you blink, glancing up from your drink to stare at him. A small episode of panic has seemed to settle over him, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise—as though he hadn’t meant to say those words aloud. For once in your life, you’re glad it’s not you who has blurted something without thinking, one of your most common traits. But you don’t allow yourself to be too thankful, instead replaying his words in your mind.

You never minded this before. What?

Before you can ask him what he means, Jooheon’s phone rings. Saved by the sound, he mutters out a hasty, “excuse me,” and pulls his phone from his inner jacket pocket, stepping away from the bar to take the call.

Hasty yourself, you take another drink, downing the rest of the rum and coke and waving for another. As the bartender takes your glass away, you turn on the stool to peer at Jooheon, watching his back curiously as he speaks on the phone. His frame has straightened, his broad shoulders taking on a more tense position than they had been while next to you. In fact, sitting at the bar with you, he’d almost seemed comfortable—more than just confident in his surroundings, but rather it was as though he were sitting and sharing a drink with an old friend.

Your mind is reeling thanks to his words. Do you already know each other? Or had you met before? Or perhaps this was a situation that had happened before? No, surely I’d remember a random rich guy splurging some money on me… no, not even surely, you’d definitely remember something like that. As more thoughts swirl in your mind, trying to make sense of the words he’d uttered, you also find yourself beginning to wonder if something is seriously wrong with you. Kihyun had been badgering you to go to a doctor about your constant migraines, the ones that could almost be considered chronic by now—you’d written it off as just stress, telling him it was standard for the job and standard for the unlucky turn of events you were experiencing in life. Perhaps, though, it was actually more?

When Jooheon returns to the bar, phone slipping back into his jacket, you don’t even have a chance to inquire about what he’d said. In fact, you can’t even think of how to formulate the question correctly before he’s snatching the glass in your hand away from you and setting it aside.

“Hey, seriously. Slow down.” When he purses his lips, a faint hint of his dimples appear, and you can’t help but think back to your earlier thought from the night: He looks so boyish. It’s kind of cute.

“Shit,” you blurt aloud, the realization of the thought you’d just had dawning on you. Jooheon’s pursed lips quickly turn into a frown.

“What?”

“I think I’m drunk.” Why you were admitting this to him, of all people—someone you still considered a stranger, someone who was too curious about you, and someone who seemed to know something you didn’t—was beyond you.

Jooheon snorts out a small laugh. “No shit. That’s why I was telling you to slow down. Stress drinking is as bad as drinking with a broken heart, you know.”

You roll your eyes, giving your head a small shake and pushing yourself off the bar stool. You aren’t aware of the toll the alcohol has taken on you, a warmth spreading through your veins like a wildfire, overtaking you—until you find yourself unable to get a decent foothold when you stand. It becomes apparent to you, then, just how much you’d had to drink amidst your bantering with Jooheon. You fully expect to fall face first onto the floor, but instead, you’re surprised to find that Jooheon’s quick reflexes immediately have his arms snaking out to steady you, a hand grabbing at your elbow and another carefully curving around your waist.

The action brings you closer to him, pulled halfway against his chest. You blink, allowing the vertigo that has dizzied your mind in a very airy manner, one that has you feeling warm and content, to settle. Then, you glance up at him, hiccuping in surprise when you realize his proximity and just how close him and his bright brown eyes are. Something in your heart, and stomach, both stir, causing a small burst of adrenaline to push past the surface of the cloudy haze the alcohol has created and make you push him away.

“H-Hey,” he stammers in surprise, keeping an arm on your elbow firmly, refusing to let go in case you lose your balance again. “Be careful. Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine… I just…” Just what? Got nervous? Were you drunk, or did you really have feelings suddenly stirring up for this handsome stranger? If he was even that—a stranger. Nothing made sense, and it made even less sense while fuddled by alcohol. “Jooheon, do I know you?”

Jooheon blinks, meeting your gaze. But besides that simple acknowledgement of your question, he doesn’t react any further. Or rather, he doesn’t turn it into a dramatic like you had expected, mainly at him getting caught uttering those words earlier. Does this mean he’d meant for you to hear that? You’re too out of it to notice the way his eyes briefly flash, before, a half-smile more akin to a smirk pulls at one corner of his lips.

You practically freeze when Jooheon leans forward, your heart stopping in your chest. The vibrating buzz of the alcohol seems to suddenly cease, stilling to silence as Jooheon places his lips to your ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Rather than that, the question should be—do you really not remember me?”

As he pulls away, his lips find the side of your face—your cheek—pressing a chaste kiss there before he straightens back to his full height. Your heart, suddenly, remembers how to work again and goes into overdrive. If not for his firm hand at your elbow, you’re almost certain your legs would have buckled beneath you.

Jooheon turns away from you then, and you barely register the words he speaks to someone in the distance. “Hoseok, can you take her home?”

When Jooheon turns back to you, he pulls a little white card out of his suit jacket. As he lets go of your elbow, he takes both your hands in his, folding fingers down over the white card he places in your palms and giving your hands a small squeeze. “Tell me when Hoseok gets you home safe, okay?”

You’re too dumbfounded to reply, heart beating rapidly in your chest and echoing loudly in your ears. You’re not even sure you register his words—and, unfortunately, he receives the same treatment as Kihyun the day before—you don’t remember to get the phone number off the business card and text him you made it home, or tell him to thank his bodyguard for helping you all the way up the stairs to your apartment.

Instead, the card buries itself somewhere to the bottom of your clutch, which is discarded immediately as you cross the threshold and mindlessly find your bed, a distant reminder of the events of the night that doesn’t rear its head until two weeks later.

#jooheon fanfix #monsta x fanfic #mx fanfic #jooheon scenario #jooheon imagine #m.writes

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afinepricklypear · 3 years

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hello!!! im really sorry to bother you! im a huge fan of your powerless series and i was very excited to see you beginning to post the next instalment, but i just had a question!! od*zai makes me really uncomfortable for personal reasons and i was wondering if there would be any of it in the fic? again im really sorry for bothering you vnjdfklnb

I don’t know when this was asked, I rarely come here...but I’ll answer as best I can and hope it’s not too late. I really don’t want to spoil the story too much, but I can also understand that many fanfiction readers (myself included) don’t like too many surprises in their fics and, when it comes to a multi-chapter fic, they don’t want to invest too much time in a fic that might disappoint them in the end. I also understand that for many people (once again, myself included), ships can make or break a fic, and that many people have notps (I, personally, have *a lot* in BSD), so I’ll try to give you an indirect answer.

I’ll start by noting that I do tag most things appropriately -- including romantic relationships that will appear in the fic, so that’s always your best bet for determining if a particular ship will show up in one of my stories -- sometimes things come up as I’m writing that I didn’t anticipate, and I’ll always warn when the tags of a fic change. I also try to tag when a fic will have an ending that the readers might not be satisfied with.

However, I feel like you might be able to guess the answer to your question too if you read my notes throughout the series. I’ll reiterate a few things I’ve said in the past installments here:

- I’m not a huge fan of Oda. It’s not that I dislike him, I just don’t particularly like him either. I’m neutral about him, I guess. Apathetic is most appropriate. I just don’t feel that the character was well developed by Asagiri. He’s flat and bland. His personality traits read off like a character the author is desperately trying to make readers like by cramming arbitrary positive characteristics down our throats that feel as though they weren’t fully thought out or given much impetus: he rescues orphans, wanted to retire as a novelist, mafia grunt that never kills (though he doesn’t quite qualify as a ‘criminal with a heart of gold’ like Chuuya because we never see him do anything criminal...but then again, we never really see the Port Mafia doing a lot of criminal things beyond murder). He also knows nothing about fairytales and apparently that makes him interesting -- and not an idiot(?) -- to Dazai. In short, like his ability name, he’s basically Flawless. Unless you count his breakdown in Dark Era when his plot devices...er...I mean, orphans that he rescued, each of whom are indistinguishable from one another (except Sakura because, she’s *the girl*) were killed by Mimic, which spiraled him on a Saint’s Martyr journey.

OMG. He’s the Gary Stu of BSD. I never realized it before.

Er, I’m ranting. I didn’t mean to turn this ask into an Oda-Bash, and I mean no offense to his fans. We all connect to different parts of a character, and I just...didn’t connect to anything with him. That’s not to say I wouldn’t rise to the challenge as a writer of giving the character more depth than presented in cannon.

- I’m not so much a multishipper, as I don’t care about any other ships in BSD outside of DaChuu. Not much else to add to that one...

- I won’t be introducing any romantic pairings into the story that weren’t tagged in the first story of Release, because it would be wholly unfair to the readers who’ve stuck with me through to a fourth story to suddenly throw a curveball at them with potential notps. So, while there might be hints to other pairs (teasing, more like, similar to cannon), no new romantic pairs will be confirmed and the readers are free to interpret relationships between characters how ever they want...though I might note in comment replies my own preferences on those ships, that isn’t to say that the readers are wrong in reading into characters within my story their own shipping preferences since the characters are otherwise meant to be close to cannon, and there are no cannon ships...therefore, anything goes.

- I want to see Dazai and Chuuya move towards a healthier relationship in Release. As it stands, there are a lot of growing pains they would need to go through to get there. It’s not enough to “confess your feelings”, relationships are built on a lot more than that. They’ve got a lot of bad history, in cannon and as established throughout my story, that they need to work through. They have certain understandings that they relied on in the past to work with one another which no longer hold true, and so they have to figure out new ways to work together. There’s a lot made of the trust between them, also, in the story, they themselves and characters like Lady Murasaki have made mention of the solid trust between them. The problem there, however, is this trust predated their confession to one another, and is, therefore, built on a foundation that is regardless of love. So it isn’t really a great measure of the state of their romantic relationship -- a mistake, I might point out, Dazai may have already made.

- Not technically me that said this last one, but I would also refer you back to chapter 2 of Lock-Down, where Chuuya and Dazai briefly talk about Oda. Although Dazai is rather aloof about his feelings towards Oda there, he is very clear that he and Oda were never romantically involved while Oda was alive.

...

Something I haven’t really said, but I do want to create space for it here, is that there are many different kinds of love. When I set out writing Release, I wanted to keep as many things as possible close to cannon, I wanted the characters as close to cannon as I could get them, tweaking only what was necessary to make the story work. One of the things from cannon is that Dazai’s relationship with Oda had a powerful impact on it. I see a lot of soukoku writers deal with this by ignoring or downsizing the relationship between Oda and Dazai, or changing Dazai’s relationship with Chuuya to "elevate it” -- for lack of better phrasing -- to the same level. What can’t be denied about cannon is that Oda meant a lot to Dazai, his dying words inspired Dazai to leave the Port Mafia, and in the Beast AU, he changes *everything* and even, arguably, puts Atsushi and Kyouka through a kind of hell to create a world where Oda lives and finishes his novel. I would be a terrible fanfic writer if I didn’t at least acknowledge that it is made obvious in cannon Dazai does love Oda...however, it all depends on your perspective what kind of love that is. Odazai fans like to interpret it as romantic love, and that is their ship, nothing wrong with it, but romantic love isn’t the only kind of love with power, and it’s not the only kind of love that drives people to do whatever necessary for the life and happiness of that person.

Within the context of the Release series, Chuuya also interprets Dazai’s love for Oda as romantic love. This itself is a conflict, but it’s representative of a larger conflict in their relationship...that being Chuuya’s insecurity with regards to Dazai’s feelings for him, which is a theme I really want to explore. I don’t know that it’ll ever explicitly be discussed, but a lot of the trauma from Chuuya’s assault by Dante is actually closely tied with this insecurity too. It isn’t Dante’s actions that affected Chuuya so terribly, rather the newness of his romance with Dazai at that point in time, and how easy it felt for him in that moment, for Dante to brush aside “Dazai’s kisses and touches”. It really represented for Chuuya how fragile and vulnerable his feelings for Dazai are, and how afraid he is that he’ll lose whatever is developing between him and Dazai before he ever really gets to call it his own.

An element of the Release series that I use to drum up drama and suspense, and which I try to impress on readers is that, with few exceptions, we’re only getting Chuuya’s perspective. His information is limited, and his interpretations of events and the people around him are not always going to be reliable. But we’re on this journey with him and we learn most information at the same time that he does. In this case, the important thing isn’t whether Odazai is a thing, it’s that Chuuya *believes* it is a thing. This creates a nice conflict, because it’s very problematic, highlighting that, while Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life, he doesn’t (yet?) trust Dazai with his heart. A partner secure in their relationship would be understanding that they’re not the only important person in their lover’s life, and that their lover can have strong emotions of love for others without it changing their love for their partner. Thus far, it hasn’t come up as a major conflict in their relationship, because Oda is dead, but recent revelations in the fourth Release story (the reliability of the character who gave the reveal, notwithstanding) raises some interesting questions stemming from: what if Oda could be brought back to life. Most readers seemed to have accepted Chuuya’s logic built on his personal narrative that Dazai was in love with Oda and vice versa, that if Dazai is trying to bring Oda back, he’s using Chuuya to do it as some sacrifice, because he truly loves Oda and wants to be with Oda, and that his relationship with Chuuya is meaningless. So, if we stay within that perspective we’re left with the one question: is he really trying to bring Oda back? -- and the conclusion drawn from it being: if he is, he doesn’t love Chuuya, and if he isn’t, he does love Chuuya. But there are some other important questions I don’t see too many readers asking, such as: are these things truly mutually exclusive? Would Dazai being romantically in love with Oda represent the only explanation for why Dazai would want to bring Oda back to life? Would Dazai really see bringing Oda back as being in conflict with his and Chuuya’s developing romance?

Of course, this added potential motivation for Dazai aside, stopping the Grimm Brotherhood is paramount. This is a dangerous organization that is doing horrendous things, and their mysterious machinations are made more ominous by the fact our heroes don’t fully know their ultimate goals. Thus far, everything that’s happened involving Chuuya has been beneficial towards bringing down the Grimm Brotherhood. Regardless if Dazai is pursuing the Brotherhood for personal reasons, his actions still align with the motivations of the Agency and Chuuya.

I don’t know if this answered your question but I hope that you might trust me as a writer that has no intention of “pulling one over” on the readers and that you will continue to stick with the story. I don’t get my jollies from leaving stories with unsatisfactory endings. I believe that there should always be an appropriate payoff that the story built towards. Thank you for the question, thank you for reading and enjoying my other stories, and I hope that you take care!

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overthinkingkdrama · 4 years

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Jona’s 5 Worst Dramas of 2019

A couple words about this list. I’m making this for fun. If a drama you love ended up on this list, it doesn’t mean that I hate you or I think you’re stupid or have terrible taste. But these are dramas that inspired strong negative reactions in me for one reason or another, whether that be disappointment, rage or disgust.

I’ve only included dramas that finished airing in 2019 in my selection process. If you have some dramas that hated, feel free to share them in the replies or send me an ask. It’s fun to complain about things for some reason.

Also, I have included major SPOILERS in a couple of these. So read at your own peril.

Dishonorable Mention: Melting Me Softly

I sincerely tried to limit myself to only dramas that I--for whatever misguided reasons--finished in their entirety for this list. Mainly because I don’t think it’s fair to brand something as the “worst” of anything without actually giving the thing a fair shake. That’s the only reason Melting Me Softly isn’t higher on this list. But I felt that it wasn’t right to leave it off entirely, if for no other reason then out of respect for the fallen Ji Chang Wook stans out there who lost their lives trying to make it through this trash fire. Somebody needs to stand up for those brave soldiers, out their gifing trash dramas while people like me are safe and sound on our couches, watching the tag like it’s a train wreck.

I made it through only two episodes of this drama, and despite my goodwill toward the majority of the cast, they were two of the most bafflingly bad hours of television that I forced myself to sit through this year. From what I could tell while side-eyeing the drama on tumblr and twitter it didn’t improve much over the course of the run. There were a couple steamy kisses that I enjoyed in clip form, but I don’t think it would have been worth the brain cells lost to sit through any more than that.

Bottom Line: Painfully unfunny, overwhelmingly expositional with no character development, confusing pacing and sloppy editing. Two episodes was two too many.

5. When the Devil Calls Your Name

It pains me to put this on the list because it was just last year that a Jung Kyung Ho, Park Sung Woong collaboration (Life on Mars) ended up in my top 5. And giving credit where it’s due, the two male leads seem to have a great deal of fun working together and I believe that all the actors gave this drama everything they could and sincerely tried to make it work. That’s one of the things I like about Jung Kyung Ho, he picks unique, risky projects that either pay off in a big way or fall flat on their faces (like the amateurishly written and edited Missing 9) Unfortunately, this script just too messy and too bizarre to work. Ha Rip as has a deeply frustrating character arc. He’s such a self-centered jerk for the vast majority of the drama, which is fine for a Faust type story if it’s written with conviction, but every time you think he’s started to turn a corner or grown as a person he reverts back to his old ways. The writing and tone are whiplash inducing. Plus the vague “soul mates” relationship between Ha Rip and Kim Yi Kyung seemed to want to have it both ways, flipping between implied romantic potential and a father/daughter dynamic, which made me quite uncomfortable.

Bottom Line: This drama’s bizarre mythology and world building barely makes any sense at all, but at least they’re easier to follow than the character development. Attempted something unique, but couldn’t pull it off. The OST is super dope though.

4. Love in Sadness

When I watched the first teasers I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t going to be a good drama, or at best it was going to be a guilty pleasure, but at the time when I started it I was hungry for a melo and there wasn’t much airing to hold my attention so I started it on impulse. I think in this case I got what I deserved for continuing to watch something I didn’t think was very good.

The first few episodes were actually pretty gripping and intriguingly dark, but that petered of quickly and the drama became and infuriating wheel spinning exercise with barely any perceptible plot development from episode to episode. The protagonists in this are all so stupid that in the final few episodes the female lead gets kidnapped not once, but multiple times because she keeps meeting her unstable husband alone. Plus nobody in this drama seems to know how to call the police when a madman is waving around a gun. It probably wouldn’t have made me so very mad except that in the last few episodes the writer became unaccountably preoccupied with how sad the psychotic, wife-beating husband’s family life was and how lonely and pathetic his life was when he wasn’t allowed to stalk, assault, and psychologically terrorize his wife. Seriously, in the last leg of the drama the villain is the only character who gets any character development at all. The drama pulls out all the stops to try to make use feel sorry for him. It’s disgusting.

Bottom Line: When a drama about a woman trying to escape domestic violence becomes completely preoccupied with painting the abuser as tragically misunderstood, you’ve got some serious problems.

3. The Lies Within

If it wasn't for the last two episodes this drama would not be on this list, but that isn't because it was in any way an exceptional drama, or that it otherwise would have ended up on my best list. Without the last two episodes The Lies Within is a merely adequate thriller, somewhat heightened by the brutal nature of the premise. I picked this show up largely to fill the void that was left by WATCHER and it was more or less successful, plus it helped that I liked the cast. However even at the beginning this drama I felt like it had some pretty glaring tone problems. There were parts of the drama that were standard OCN dark and gritty thriller, and there were other parts that felt like a campy police sitcom. The humor, when it does crop up in this drama always feels super out of place. But then that last big twist happened and man...I can't remember the last time a drama made me that angry or cratered quite so hard with a twist.

[And this is where I spoil the HELL out of this drama...]

Before this drama decided to go all M. Night Shyamalan in it’s last two episodes, there seemed to be at least one, if not two really reasonable candidates for the kidnapper. Actually all the ground work they’d done up to that point would seem to have pointed to Young Min and if he had turned out to be the perpetrator, I would have completely bought it. Instead they decided to blow everyone’s mind by making the kidnapped husband complicit in his own kidnapping and dismemberment. Which might seem like a shocking twist until you think about it for even half a second.

What it winds up doing on a narrative level it makes everything the characters have done to investigate this series of crimes up to this point feel pointless, resulting in a huge anticlimax. It makes the ambiguous figure of Seo Hui’s husband not only hopelessly stupid, but also cruel and unsympathetic. Because he thought somehow simply sharing the information with her would put her in more danger than threatening and psychologically terrorizing her into investigating the very people he was theoretically trying to protect her from. The explanation that he was already terminally ill doesn’t to anything to mitigate the stupidity of his plan for me. Seriously, you couldn’t think of any solution aside from cutting bits off yourself and sending them to your wife in the mail? I could rant about this ending at length, but I’m going to try to stop here.

Bottom Line: As far as I’m concerned, if you choose to sacrifice the emotional and narrative coherence of your story for a cheap and dirty twist to surprise the audience, you deserve every ranty review you get.

2. Love Affairs in the Afternoon

I’m really not sure what possessed me to watch this drama to begin with. That I continued to watch it is on me. The fact that I watched it despite hating the shallow characters, the thin story and the abortive message at the core of the drama is simply a lapse of judgement for which I shouldn’t be forgiven. Why did I do it despite not having a single nice thing to say about this show? Well, there are two reasons. I was curious to see if they would do anything compelling with one or two of the characters, (specifically the serial adulteress housewife an the broody artist) and I was surreptitiously watching this drama at work and it was really easy to follow the plot while only actually keeping my eyes on the screen about half the time. I watched the last episode before the subs were available and had no trouble understanding what was going. Which could be a sign that my Korean is improving, but is more likely a sign that the writing was so predictable and simplistic that you could follow it if you didn’t speak the language at all.

[Spoilers beyond this point.]

It’s my understanding that in the Jdrama that this is based on all of the characters basically wreck their lives and end up miserable, pointing toward the emptiness of the lives of these people who try to find fulfillment through extra-marital affairs. If that’s how this drama had ended, I still wouldn’t have enjoyed the execution but I could have respected the intent. But in this watered down Kdrama-fied version all the couples’ issues are resolved in the whitewash of a last episode time skip that makes the suffering and bullshit that led up to it feel completely pointless.

Bottom Line: Maybe this level of trashy, uninspired tripe would be somewhat justified if the chemistry between the leads had been better, but somehow they even managed to screw that up. The leads are just bad, vacuous people, a fact which is rendered all the more unforgivable by them being utterly bland. Everybody needed to divorce, nobody deserved to end up happy. Please be wiser than me and avoid this one.

1. Memories of the Alhambra

Initially, I was on the fence about even producing a “Worst List” this year, because in the past few years I’ve tried to be better about dropping dramas the moment they start to disappoint me, rather than hanging on to them and winding up burning myself out. I wasn’t sure if I’d have enough material to write this list, or at least not enough material to make it worth reading. Then I remembered that Memories of the Alhambra finished airing in January of this year (2019 was impossibly long, wasn’t it?) and I thought, “Aha, I can make this work.” I knew at once this drama was going to be the shitty tinfoil star atop my Christmas tree of suck.

I’ve already written a full review of this drama, where I got about as mean as I felt I could reasonably be. You can go read that if you like, I’m not going to retread all my many complaints here. What I will say is that Memories of the Alhambra took my mixed-to-favorable opinion of the writer, Song Jae Jung, and turned it to a negative one. She’s someone who clearly has a lot of interesting high concept ideas, but the execution is just not there. You can hook an audience with a concept, but you have to keep them with craft and structure.

Maybe the industry can be blamed for that. Maybe she just has a hard time ending her stories, or maybe writing on a deadline doesn’t agree with her. Whatever the reason, I can no longer trust her to deliver a satisfying story. And that’s deeply saddening to me, because Queen In Hyun’s Man is in my top 10 favorite dramas.

To be front-to-back terrible is one thing. The joke’s at least half on me for bothering. But to have potential, to have an interesting hook, a budget, a cast, but then to be either unwilling or unable to live up to that potential feels like a con. That’s how I felt about his drama, like I had been willfully deceived by special effects and flashy editing, all orchestrated to disguise a narratively bankrupt, unsatisfying drama.

Bottom Line: Is Memories of the Alhambra objectively the worst drama on this list? No, it’s not. Is it the most disappointing? Absolutely, it is. And that’s the more heinous crime, in my opinion. And that’s why it’s my worst drama of 2019.

#kdrama reviews #worst list #kdramas 2019 #jona spoils #exit review

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ilcaeryx · 5 years

Text

Tenacity: Chapter 7 - Ghostwriter [Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader]

SUMMARY: Your husband is on sick-leave, but the world cannot seem to stop bringing the hero out of him.

TAGS: Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader, family, comfort

COMMENT: 4971 words... almost 5k. Bruh.

A lone TV broadcasted fresh news into the empty living room, the steady-voiced news anchor preaching to no one in particular.

"Now for the daily news," he announced, clasping his hands above the desk and leaning towards the camera. "Today around three in the afternoon a man in his early twenties committed mass murder at Hikage elderly care facility. Fifteen deaths have been confirmed together with twenty-three injured. The perpetrator is currently on the run."

Change of scenery: a short clip is shown. There's a cascade of powder and debris avalanching down the hill where the entire facility previously stood. Perhaps half the building is now remaining. Like a calzone pizza someone has taken a bite off, the interior is exposed and there are staff members of public service dipping in and out of vision. Cameraman pans down the hill to show the chaos outside, specifically zooming into the heroes Uravity and Cementoss dashing towards the incoming debris.

"The police and hero associations involved plead with the public to stay clear of public spaces and crowds. The perpetrator is highly unstable and dangerous. Do not attempt to parlay with him."

In the front seat, you were preaching to someone in particular. Your feet on the dashboard, eating your confidence through a bag of potato chips and complaining to the driver, who thankfully didn't need to focus because of this massive traffic rubberneck. At this point, though, you suspected he was merely indulging you. He was looking forward, eyelids drooping and back straight against the car seat. With this somewhat forlorn expression he focused on something above the car in front of you, you noticed as you followed his gaze.

"And you know what, Hitoshi? I'm not letting her win, so I'm not going to stop doing that," you cut your complaints short and offered him your bag, "though I will stop ranting. Thank you for coming to my talk."

Hitoshi accepted. He pulled down the sunscreen above his head but you enjoyed the summer sun straight up burning your skin. Admittedly, you didn't have much of a choice considering that you were wearing a comfortable tank top and shorts that covered little. Your husband was better off, wearing khakis and a T-shirt, yet his forearms and cheeks were already coloured a faint red.

"Do you want something to drink? Seems like we'll be here for a while." You patted the space below your seat, searching.

"Sure. I think there's been an accident up ahead."

He stretched his right hand towards the radio. A second faster, you fished up the water bottle and smacked it into his palm. You gave him a knowing look.

That's a no-no.

Being on sick-leave meant leaving your job behind, even if your job physically was in front of you. Much like other aspects of concurrent culture, being unaware basically meant being left behind but this time it was serious. He couldn't take much more. And nevertheless, without his staunch refusal to take a vacation, you're certain he would've had deep guilt about it.

Fucking hero culture.

"Right."

Fathers carrying their young children. Couples rushing, hands interlocked. Elderly people clutching their bags. All of them rushing past your car, moving towards where the rubberneck presumably started. There were shouts accompanying this early stage of chaos around you, uncoherent shrieks distress.

Fear struck you imminently, your body shrinking as the visceral sounds continued. You folded your legs beneath the dashboard and let the plastic bags down through the empty space between your seat and the door.

Your fingers felt clumsy and numb when you reached and clutched Hitoshi's hand, barely aware of the pressure he enforced on the steering wheel. The tip of his fingers and nails paled visibly.

All the noise outside made thinking hard, much less rational thinking. As such you looked at Hitoshi for support.

"Get out of the car." It was a monotone order, one without malice or aggressivity. There was no explanation, nor did you have a follow-up plan, yet you obeyed. Integrating it as your sole objective, you let go of his hand and opened the car door cautiously, peering out for incoming humans.

Behind you, the driver's door slammed shut. By the time you got out Hitoshi was already striding to your side, his eyes scanning behind you. His hand shot up to your waist, his palm warm and solid against you. Ever lightly, Hitoshi buffered you in the direction of the horde, silently begging you to listen to your instincts. You wanted to, but you also wanted him with you - and by his concentrated stare and squared shoulders, you knew you would never convince him to.

Momentarily, the two of you locked eyes and you thought you could control yourself enough to stay with him.

A strange warping sound hollowed whatever conviction existed out of you, leaving a void desiring safety.

The primal demand to survive was staggeringly powerful and you did not understand how Hitoshi could resist it.

"Y/N, head up the road to the heroes," he said, overexaggeratedly articulating his words. His bared canines and wild hair confused you; how could he look like a panther ready to kill its prey while sounding like an audio book storyteller? "I can't focus while you're here - I need you safe. Now go!"

He half-shouted that last part, imploring whatever self-preservation you had to keep you safe. So it did, because you ran all the way up to the temporary encampment for wounded civilians. You escaped from danger only to plunge into chaos.

Without back-up and without gear, Hitoshi left you alone to face the rampanging villain, alone.

That's when you knew you would have to try harder or the hero world would consume all of your husband.

"That's a nasty Quirk you've got there," Hitoshi spat out, wiping blood off his cheek. He involuntarily winced when the back of his hand came into contact with the gushing wound, tingling pain following. A warm trail brushed down his chin and neck, soaking into the hem of his T-shirt. It wasn't too deep a wound, all things considered.

Overall, it wasn't just the combination of a disturbed villain and high-powered Quirk - the situation itself was beyond fucked up; two heroes had their limbs removed (for lack of a better word) and several civilians were strewn about, pinned down between cars or otherwise immobilized. He couldn't accurately discern the dead from the living, not with the swirling smoke billowing around the cars. Had this occurred back in the day, this would have been filed as a terrorist attack by the League of Villains.

"If you're not going to talk then at least look at me, dickhead," he said, switching his weight to the front of his feet.

And so the villain did.

The hero encampment was an absolute mess. When you first arrived you had attempted to help out, but your offer was declined. You passed by several heroes, quietly greeting those you recognized. Some gave you an encouraging smile, others barely registered you as a living being. Rapidly you had settled into sitting by some teenage girls, absorbing the atmosphere until your soul started to hurt.

At one point the endless cries droning on in the background merged from dozen different voices… to five… to losing complete meaning. Passively observing the frantic movements of humans around you, everything was rather meaningless. Whenever an ambulance arrived to retrieve a patient, they left behind a shaken and upset family to listen to the fading sirens. The worst was that as heroes removed cars from the highway for availability reasons and as the wounded were sent away, the suffering never dipped below a certain threshold. More and more people amassed, grieving and aiding each other in an intimate organic hivemind of humanity. Misery truly loved company.

This is how it remained for hours.

You had a vague idea of what was going on. Snippets of comments were travelling throughout camp. As apathetic as you felt, there was nothing else to do but listen to the speculation and information with those around. Eventually, word spread that the villain had been subdued.

Until you heard from a hero acquaintance that Hitoshi was alive and well, no tidbit eased your fear. When you heard 'Hitoshi' in the same sentence as alive, dizziness overwhelmed you. Once you knew he would return, you retired to a less populated corner and passed out.

Maybe a few minutes or an hour later, you came to with a powerful headache crowning your skull. It made your vision float uncomfortably when you sat up at too fast, so you leaned towards a crate. You were completely out of breath despite having done nothing rigorous.

Even later after you had awakened, Hitoshi found you. Your husband looked incredibly roughed up; his vacation clothes had left him defenseless, his knees and face skinned and cut. As he approached he walked unevenly, avoiding straining his left leg with his weight.

If you stood up, you knew you were going to faint. Thus you stayed down and he joined you with a pained groan, though he did seem pleased to see you. In his own way, of course. The alert expression he had donned that noon was worn out, resetting to its normal resting bitch face. His untamed hair was partly flat against his skin, sticky with sweat, and partly roughed around like bed-hair. He repeatedly pushed his hair away from his face but it returned all the same, tangling in front of his eyes. He was so tired…

"Are you hurting?" you asked, pointing at the white bandage on his cheek.

Hitoshi laid down on the grass beside you, bracing himself on his elbows. Until he reached out for you, you didn't make a move at him. Something finally clicked in you as you nestled against his side, letting him guide you against him. It almost felt wrong, holding your usually touch-averse husband in this suffocated place where so many were without their loved ones.

"The medics patched me up well enough. Getting away with these kind of injuries against someone like that is a reward in itself - some people weren't as lucky. And you listened to me, for once. I expected you to talk back when I told you to run."

You glanced up at him, squinting in the sunlight.

"Well," you started and blinked dumbly, not sure of how to phrase your rebuttal. Right now you had poor recollection of these last few hours, though you could remember being unable to control yourself. "I thought that just this once, you probably knew what you were doing. Also, why are you insinuating I never listen to you?"

You heard him shake his head lightly.

"It's less not listening and more reckless behaviour, to be perfectly honest."

Again, his words swam inside your head without giving you a clear and definite feeling or thought. You curled your leg over his while trying to ignore the clamor around you.

"I want to answer 'Wait until I get used to this and I'll talk back all the time', but I don't want to go through this again, Hitoshi."

He inclined his head to look at you, frowning softly. While he did seem to want to answer, he dejectedly caressed your shoulder with his thumb. Through the thick fog inside your head, you reasoned that he too wished for this to never happen again. Wouldn't that be amazing? An alternative lifestyle, or rather the one that the majority of the population lived by, where you didn't fear that your spouse would die on the job or accidentally reveal where their loved ones live to villains.

This, along with the exhaustion and hunger, made it hard to convey what you were thinking, so you just sighed. "I want to go home."

"I'll get someone to pick us up, but there's something I need to tell you."

Upon returning home, the puffiness of your eyes had abated and the pulsing ache behind your head matched the one in your chest. As soon as the car stopped, you released yourself from the belt and thanked the driver with a gravelly voice. You hurried into your apartment, keys shaking in your hand. With Hitoshi right behind you, you entered your home to soft mumbling from the living room.

Both of you froze, until you recognized a voice actor's famous drawl.

"We left the TV on," Hitoshi said quietly, gently pushing you aside and striding into the living room with squared shoulders. You followed him inside when you heard him hum discontently, flipping through the channels. The TV flashed and it conveniently showed the news detailing today's attack. As much as you didn't want to know about it and for Hitoshi to further stress himself up, the rule about no news could not be enforced when family members were involved. It seemed like no matter how much you wanted to shield him from the world, life would find a way to screw specifically with the two of you.

"I can't believe he's done this," you said, feeling your soul evaporate from your body as the camera crew showed the remnants of the elder care facility from a distance. It seemed that all the inhabitants and staff had been evacuated. You wondered if they were still waiting for transport into the city hospitals by the hero encampment where you had stayed. Your car was still left on the road together with those of many others. An overview of the road flicked up, cars pushed to the sidelines for transportation.

"He doesn't exactly fit the usual profile," Hitoshi said.

You shouldn't indulge him, you really shouldn't…

"The usual profile being..?"

"A person in a vulnerable position. Money, work, problems with people… People don't turn into villains for no reason, I think. There's got to be something more guiding them, just like there is for those of us on the lawful side of society."

"Ah. I guess that is true."

It wasn't unthinkable that your brother had been influenced into committing a crime; he was a successful businessman with a throng of acquaintances, a few loyal friends and some noteworthy enemies. Much like Hitoshi, he regarded his vocational duties with serious respect, more than you would tolerate considering that all he made was money for his bosses. Someone out for his position could've done something to him, with the consequences being these.

Your baby brother in this position… You felt sick to your stomach. Was it because of the destruction? Because he never showed signs of weakness or whatever the fuck made him do this? Or did he perhaps just never reveal that part of himself to you?

That couldn't be true though. You two were so close.

"Can we go see him?" you asked, uncertain of how police protocol worked. On the way home, you had listened to the local radio comment about the attack and there seemed to be a high death count. That would probably affect whether or not you could see your brother.

Hitoshi stared blindly into the TV and said, "Will you face him even after everything he's done?"

It equally dumbfounded and conflicted you, it really did. 'Eighteen deaths' said the updated sign beneath the news anchor, increasing the death toll by three since this afternoon. On one hand, he was your brother - of course you'd back him up. That's what your initial instincts said. On the other hand, this visceral, unknown side scared you. The middle ground was curious, morbidly so.

"I saw your brother do some heroes in," Hitoshi said, his lips barely moving. "He ripped their arms and legs into oblivion. If he hadn't been confused after seeing me, I would have ended up like that too."

Slowly, you crept up to Hitoshi and attached yourself to his arm, feeling his muscle tense up. He had all the reason to be stressed. You wouldn't let him go in any case, not after today. You probably lost your brother after this ordeal and you refused to lose your husband, too. With your body chilled, as if submerged in ice cold water, you said, "I want to. I want to believe this wasn't his doing. It doesn't seem likely, though… If he is stuck behind bars I don't want to live without knowing why."

"Right. You talk to him, get to know his motives and hope that the people surrounding you have the tact to not ask you about it."

"Whatever I do, I will lose, then."

Since the villain's identity wasn't broadcasted the rest of your family and friends remained ignorant, aside from your brother's family and your parents. Your sister-in-law was inconsolable, you heard from your mother when you spoke on the phone. On the verge of tears around your parents, somewhat controlled around her children. Because your brother had young children she was keeping it together, but only barely. The entire family was camped out at your parents' place and the only reason you didn't go was because Hitoshi had been credited for suppressing the villain.

While your sister-in-law supposedly didn't mind, you and Hitoshi agreed that it'd be a bad idea to show up. All you could do was hope that your nephews weren't told, as they adored Hitoshi and vice versa.

During the night, you were unable to sleep. Hitoshi stayed holed up in your bedroom attempting to sleep while you straight up didn't bother trying. Before he left you by the kitchen table with a glass of juice and your laptop you promised him you wouldn't keep reading the news or comments on social media. With a quick kiss he bid you goodnight.

Throughout your misery there was a tiny speck of appreciation for him caring about your mental well-being. You could keep yourself off the internet and play games or whatever tickled your fancy at 2:20AM, but you couldn't stop ruminating.

At this point, you felt like a conspiracy theorist and you were convinced that Hitoshi would deadpan you for this idea.

Honestly, you thought and finished your second cup of coffee, as long as it gets me through this I don't mind going a bit batshit.

Your head was massively pulsating and it felt like you were going crazy with everything. Everything was going to hell and nothing made sense.

How long would this go on?

At precisely 4:13AM you stumbled into your shared bedroom.

Boy, did you have a revelation for your husband.

You crawled over your side of the bed to him, who laid sleeping on his side. He awoke before you could touch him with your shaky hands, looking awfully alert and aware for someone with permanent dark bags under his eyes. Hitoshi blinked against the hall lights until he focused on you, frowning.

"I don't think my brother did this out of his own volition," you said as steadily as you could, because you 100% needed him on your side right now.

He stared blankly at you, lips spread slightly. Turning around beneath the covers, he rotated until he could face you properly.

"You know my brother. He wouldn't do this out of his own volition, Hitoshi. Why would someone with a good career and family go on a killing spree? This has to be a mistake."

Heavy subject to breach his sleep with, you understood. Gripping the sheets, you begged him with your eyes to hear you out.

"So you think he's been coerced into this?" he said after some contemplation.

"Yes! Why would he do this otherwise?"

He didn't answer for a while and you started feeling defensive, so you evaded his gaze.

"Not everyone's motives are understandable," he finally said, using his forearm to keep his hair away from his face. "Everyone does whatever they want, regardless of the people around them or whatever they were born with. All I know is that he didn't have to kill humans."

That sounded very different from what he preached earlier to you. If people did what they want and the circumstances were irrelevant, why was the profile he spoke about so important? Fucking meaningless, all of it. You let air escape through your teeth, more like the determined hiss from a rattlesnake than a sigh. All you could try was to convince your silvertongue husband to believe you.

"Hitoshi..!"

You looked at him and got taken aback by his expression, one of profound sadness.

"Baby, I need you to listen to me," his voice like liquid. "There's nothing we can do right now. We just have to wait for justice to work things out."

"You need to hear me out."

"Right. I'll do that later. Now, lay down and get some shuteye."

Too tired to decipher whether he used his Quirk on you or not, you blacked out doused in disappointment.

Turns out your proposition wasn't positively received by Hitoshi. He seemed pensive about your words but you could tell that he didn't place much weight on them. Indeed, he disagreed strongly that your brother had been forced or otherwise influenced into this. When pressed for reasons, he continued that people could be blackmailed into financial shenanigans to cover them up, but downright murder was out of the question. That would obviously raise hell and was the opposite of being clandestine. His sources were his own experiences.

The one thing he had no clear answer to was whether his brainwashing could overwrite instructions from other similar Quirks. Seeing him doubt and scratch his head over it gave you some relief. This was your sole consolation.

It wasn't like you forced Hitoshi back to his workplace, but he was adamant on following this up. At least that was a place safer than anywhere else, considering how many pro heroes and side kicks that were in the vicinity. You could just hope that they wouldn't rope him into doing work. If they did, you'd personally show up at the office and leave with your husband and someone's bloody nuts.

While he was away you visited your family, gathered your thoughts and returned home with some of your mom's homecooked food. Everyone was in agreement; something strange was going on with your brother.

When thinking about it, you thought that he must've been pretty damn out of it to not recognize Hitoshi. Hitoshi didn't recognize him because of his get-up, but your brother should have recognized him. Why would he answer out of anger instead of being shocked or confused? Like Hitoshi had said before, if your brother had reacted out of instinct instead of having gotten confused, Hitoshi would've limped away with a missing limb or worse. As much as it terrified you that those people died because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time, you were secretly relieved that he arrived at the right time. However, the rest of the world didn't see it like that.

The news were always droning in the background while you were at home, because if your husband was at work you would also allow yourself to stay up to date with the news. They claimed that the villain most likely could've been neutralized had the heroes reacted faster or some other idiotic attack. You hated the worship that surrounded the heroes because it placed an insurmountable amount of pressure on a relatively small amount of people. The consequences? Overwork, survivor's guilt, high burnout and suicide rates, among many.

Hitoshi had updated you in a dry tone after his prolonged visit to his office. Word spread like hellfire when it came to mass murder and this was no different. With your heart rippling with fear, you listened to him explain that your brother had not been the only villain and that the heroes were currently tracking down the last two. There aren't words to describe the relief that shone through your body, the mere presence of hope aggressively raising your solemn mood. It could still mean that your brother had collaborated, yet you felt that you were right in assuming he was coerced. Your newfound hope fuelled you and you couldn't wait until you could tell your parents.

After your talk you gloomily realized that you shouldn't have let Hitoshi go in the first place, because his co-worker called him back into the office, saying that the cops were there. Was him being away really worth the information? Perhaps he had been right in saying that knowing everything about the case wasn't worth it.

Shinsou Hitoshi was accustomed to people gossiping about him. For some reason, people were very interested in his Quirk, the dark bags under his eyes and his ties to UA. When he returned to his office for the second time that day, his people had a newfound fixation with the fact that his brother-in-law had committed a severe crime. Indeed, he hung out behind a corner and overheard his assistants talk about it. His coffee tasted badly, regardless of how much milk he put in it.

"You're the last person I would expect to be here," His manager's voice rang out behind him. Hitoshi actually jumped, almost spilling his cup. His assistants ceased talking. "Yet it cannot be helped. Did you hear from..?"

"Yes," he said in a monotone voice and peeked across his shoulder, pokerface on. "I heard that the police came here to talk?"

His manager tightened his tie and gave him a tired look. "They're waiting for you."

"I won't keep them waiting further, then." Without further ado, he set off towards his office room, walking briskly past his assistants. If someone could spontaneously explode, they probably would've done it by now.

Hitoshi felt guilty for his manager. Sato would be working overtime to highlight his subjugation of the villain and quench whatever rumors were spreading. Unfortunately the rest of his team participated in that... A little support from his team wouldn't be bad. The public was ruthless in their criticism and he wanted nothing more than go back to his wife. His sick-leave was cut short by your personal tragedy that extended into becoming his personal win and tragedy. Usually when he successfully dealt with villains, he and his team would be thinking about ways to capitalize on it. This time around he would want it buried ASAP, both for his sake and yours.

Although it wouldn't stop after this little talk with the police, he started to seriously consider sick-leave a positive thing. He could certainly use a break from this madness.

"So the police came to question you?" You sat cross-legged on the sofa, spine hunched over and eyes set in shadows. It wasn't the 'seductive kind of deeply-set eyes' he allegedly had but 'I'm tired of everything eyes'. The way your body language had shot from lethargic to alarmed after he announced that he had news made him clench his fists in hopelessness. It was something he had encountered before when dealing with civilians in denial about the deaths of their friends or relatives. Or rather, it was a human quality. Damn if he hadn't thought about his brother-in-law being forced into this by someone with a Quirk like his.

"Yes," he said, leaning back onto his armchair. "It was pretty standard. They asked questions about what happened, his Quirk and how he acted. I'll skip the details…"

He trailed off, staring off into nothingness as he structured his thoughts quickly. "I kept thinking about what you said before… about my Quirk overwriting other Quirks. I told them I thought that your brother seemed off and not entirely there, just like it is with Brainwashing."

"So it's not impossible?"

That was a hard question he didn't have a factual answer to. If Brainwashing could be undone by hurting the subject, other suggestion-like Quirks could have other conditions for release. The two other villains had, much like the League of Villains members in the past, unregistered Quirks and it'd take a few days to completely figure them out. Until then, this would only be speculation.

"Probably not," he said reluctantly.

Your face relaxed, your shadows becoming less intensive somehow. Hitoshi was content yet uneasy. This was the closest he'd ever come to letting another person influence his observations. Courts experienced problems with witnesses showing bias or remembering things wrong, which could prove important for either incarceration or for the villain to regain their freedom. It surprised him how you could influence him to that extent. No one was immune, but still…

He regarded you seriously, clasping a hand behind his neck. While he was happy that you were relieved by the small chance for your brother to have been coerced, he understood the feeling of wanting to prove everyone wrong and wished you hadn't influenced his thinking.

But that was also why he liked you. Someone who could show him other ways to think. Who didn't like to be put in their place ever so often?

"I don't know how it'll turn out with your brother. I don't want to promise you anything," he said.

You wiggled your head loosely to the sides and hummed. Not quite content, then.

Hitoshi used his upper body strength to lift himself off the armchair and struggled over to you, left leg flaring up in pain. It disappeared once he sat down beside you and you let out an unwilling laugh when he laid down across your lap, his head leaning against your thigh. Your hands combed through his unruly hair and he groaned when you liberated his tangled ends.

This girl…

When it came to you, he simply didn’t know when to stop.

How far would the two of you get with your words and his voice?

If you liked this, give it a reblog or like! I’ll be releasing more soon.

Link to Masterlist

#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #ilcaeryx.tenacity

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hopeymchope · 5 years

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So, I'm trying to understand this, from a person who has next to no knowledge on the series. What exactly is going on with Attack on Titan? And I'm more than willing to read a long rant if it means I get an explanation.

If you’re wondering why the tag for the manga blew up in recent weeks, that’s one specific thing - a character “death” (or at least, character-serious-injury) that’s got fans freaking out.

If you’re wondering why everything has been sucking for like two straight years of manga and people like me keep making very salty posts about it, that’s a whole other topic.

And that’s what I’m gonna cover in this rant: How Attack on Titan has been shitting its own bed for more than a year now.

Basic Setup: Attack on Titan takes place in a world where the remnants of humanity live in a walled city. The city’s walls protect them from gigantic, grotesque “Titans” who attempt to devour people on sight.

…but naturally, as the story went on, it got way more complicated.

Most of the problems with the manga began circa the time-skip (which is also where the Anime is going to catch up to once the current season 3 is finished). Rarely has there ever been a time-skip in fiction that’s been wonderfully received, but the four-year gap between “Return to Shanganshima” and the “Marley” arc has to be one of the worst.

But the whole crash-and-burn kind of starts right before the time-skip, when we first learn the name “Marley,” begin to learn the true origin of Titans, and uncover true enemy opposing our heroes via a forced flashback. For the purposes of this little essay, let’s just put all of the Marley-related information into one big collection - I’m not gonna separate the last couple chapters pre-timeskip from all the tons we’ve had afterwards. All things dealing with the aforementioned “enemy” will just go into one big fuckpile.

SO. The time-skip jumped forward fouryears into an arc that lasted almost a year without letting us see any of our established protagonists. Instead, we follow… the enemy I just mentioned.

And since Attack on Titan begins and goes for most of its duration without any clear enemies outside of “TEH TITANS” and “general assholes within the system,” this is where I have to put a spoiler cut.

A Rant on Titan

So the enemy of the characters we know so far is Marley, the actual source of the titans. The world isn’t destroyed at all, naturally. Our heroes just live in one isolated place on the planet, which is forced to be surrounded by Titans because Marley shoved them into that walled city and then created Titans on the regular.

Marley is a nation of………………

…*SIGH*…

okay, look. I could try to call Marley a “Nazi Germany allegory,” but the allegory is so thin that they’re basically just incredibly overt Nazis. They’re a military-focused nation of incredible genetic pride where purity is celebrated and where one particular race - a group of both different genetic descendancy than them AND of different religious beliefs - are treated as inferior garbage. The Marley government sees “Eldians” as disposable. They are forced to wear armbands with stars on their arms (YES, REALLY) to identify them in public, and they also make them lived in fenced-off, separate communities.

Marley’s science experiments on Eldians (yup, they tossed that in, too) resulted in the creation of the TITANS. It turns the Eldians into mindless prisoners of their own bodies who grow in size, deform, try to eat people instinctively, and long only for their own deaths.

If they made a third AOT video game, it’d have to be something like this. …. So maybe we shouldn’t.

ANYWAY. During this Marley story arc, we mostly follow child soldiers. They’re of “low birth” because of their race. They chose to enter military service in exchange for having their families treated like regular human beings one day, if they earn their way to become titan-shifters. Nevermind that titan-shifters all die within seven years because of the power of turning into a titan - it’s worth it to raise their family’s status beyond just your regular Jews Eldians, right? Nevermind that they’d never really be seen as equals. Even those who have elevated their own rank by becoming shifters are shown to still be subject to some snark and disdain,but yknow - you were just born that way, so you’re shitty regardless, right?

Through this horrific scenario, we follow a few kids in particular - most notably Falco, who is gradually seeing reality and realizing how they don’t deserve to be treated like shit and that this is all a work - and Gabi, who is becoming increasingly militant and more zealous over time.

RELEVANT SIDE NOTE: Gabi’s character design is based upon a sketch Isayama once did of a gender-shfited Eren Jeager (Eren Jaeger is the main protagonist of the series). For that reason, you might be inclined ot think that Gabi is some kind of alternate/parallel Eren.

Except that’s fucking ridiculous, of course!

Gabi is shown to only care about her own rage against the people within the walls of “Paradis” (the sarcastic name for the walled city where all of our heroes come from) above ALL else. She doesn’t care about her family at all, never noticing her brother’s suicidal tendencies and pain even as Falco is acutely aware of it. The fact that her parents are pained by her following her brother’s dark path to becoming a shifter. She doesn’t notice or care. The more evidence that is put in front of her that the other side might not be as evil as she thinks? That just makes her want to commit murder MORE.

Oh, and she DOES murder people. And try to murder more. A lot. She even successfully murders a fan-favorite character - a character who shows her mercy by pointing a gun at her, seeing she’s only a child, and opting to let her live. Gabi repays this mercy by shooting that character in the back later and boasting excitedly about it to anyone who will listen for multiple chapters in a row.

She then tries to top that by attempting to murder that character’s little adopted sister, who is like, maybe 10 years old, tops? Gabi is then protected from harm by Mikasa and now seems to be on the path towards some kind of “redemption arc” because… uh…………..

………………..because Isayama is shitty?

By contrast, Eren struggles throughout the ENTIRE NARRATIVE to bring harm to people who betray him/those he cares about or those who try to kill him/those he cares about, but often runs into incredible challenges when fighting these douchenozzles. The entire time we followed Eren up until now, he always prioritized his family and friends above EVERYTHING. He would risk ANYTHING to protect them and his comrades in the Paradis military… this was true from when he was a young boy at the start of the story up through him being a young man at this point. And he is ESPECIALLY intense about protecting his closest friends, Armin and Mikasa, who he’s known for nearly his entire life. They grew up together.

That’s set in fucking stone for like 90 chapters, so we’re good. Yeah?

Oh, sweet summer child. Perhaps you were so unprepared for Isayama’s Nazi mallet that you didn’t see his secondary weapon coming?

See, the post-timeskip Eren treats his friends like shit. He lies to them, betrays their trust, runs off and starts a literal war on his OWN, and then tells them how much he hates them. Claims he always hated them.

So in the course of just a couple chapters, he goes from saying this:

To swiftly saying THIS:

Note that devastated look in her eyes. Wonderful.

And yes, he’s GOT to be lying, because I don’t think Isayama would juxtapose those two scenes so closely together in some unwitting fashion. But he’s doing so much damage to them by now that I honestly don’t even know if it matters?

Take Hange.

She’s the intelligent leader of the team, the one who always has a wild, unlikely plan. She’s a science whiz and comes up with longshot plans that always seem to weirdly… work out.

We’re told that, three years ago, she was presented a plan to overthrow Marley by Zeke - a fucking bastard who is clearly a member of the enemy, he’s lived with them his whole life, as a child he betrayed his parents to them and had them executed for being disloyal to Marley, and he’s killed COUNTLESS comrades of our heroes - and Hange decided Zeke’s plan was the only possible option and came up with no alternatives for four years. So she made them ally up with the least trustworthy person IMAGINABLE for a terrible plan,b because Hange’s… a stupid sucker now, I guess.

And why is it a terrible plan — aside from the fact that there is literally zero reason to ever believe anything Zeke says to you, since he’s the most evil fucker in the world? Oh, because it hinges HEAVILY around forcing another member of the team — Historia — into a pregnancy to churn out a baby they intend to use for the country’s gain.

Historia’s big character arc in “Attack on Titan” has been her coming to terms with her own identity and OWNING it. She’s been hiding under another identity or been controlled by other people much of her life. She finally comes out under her true name, declares that she’ll never leave in fear or be maniuplated ever again, and then—

… oh wait.. she’s manipulated into being barefoot and pregnant against her own wishes, because their greatest enemy asked for it.

There’s a lot to hate about the post-”Return to Shinganshima” Attack on Titan, in short. From characters becoming inversions of themselves to full fanatical Nazis being treated like redemption babies to complete destruction of self-actualization of other characters and the fact that, even if this is part of some larger plan being manipulated by multiple players (which seems likely), it still won’t really make up for much of the damage… and for that matter, how plausible would it even be?

But basically, there’s going to have to be quite an 11th-hour ass-pull to make this turn out decently in my eyes by now. And that’s not IMPOSSIBLE.

But it’s looking pretty unlikely.

#anti-gabi braun #attack on titan negativity #shingeki no kyojin negativity #snk negativity #aot negativity #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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