#cause seriously if I was told this ages ago I would have gone natural way before now
Text
Black Hair Care myths BUSTED!
Since I’m fighting off the plague and have nothing else better to do but lay here pitifully, I’ve decided to talk about hair again after my last two posts on shampoo types and curly hair care , only this time focusing on Black folks’ hair and the misinformation lots of us grew up on.
Now, because I know the gowrls like to tussle (and Mercury in Microbraids along with an eclipse is upon us), lemme just say this: if you’re absolutely happy with your hair care routine, then this post isn’t for you.
This post is only for people who are curious and want to evolve and simplify their hair care routines.
OKAY LEGGO:
The hair typing chart is garbage.
Everyone and they mama should be familiar with this chart. So many of us use it to determine what type of hair products to buy that work best for our hair type.
Unfortunately, the chart is pseudo-science.
All hair types need the same basic care (shampooing/conditioning at least every week), and products that claim to cater to a specific hair type is just a marketing tactic. This chart also promotes texturism; Oprah’s stylist literally made up the type 4 category to say that the only thing to do to tight curls is to straighten or loosen them. 🥲
Products can’t give you the kind of curls you want.
I touched on this a bit in my first hair post, but it bears repeating here: Curl “activators”, Shea butter, raw oil blends, creams, leave-in conditioners, texturizing shampoos… all of them are finessing you, beloveds. If your hair isn’t holding defined clumps of curls immediately after shampooing, then your hair is likely chronically dehydrated and needs to be detoxed.
We’re kinda raised to product chase because we’re told that the way our hair grows out of our heads is bad and needs to be fixed, and the $2.5 billion Black hair care industry is always eager to offer us placebos for our coin. We see someone with the hair texture and length we want and we immediately ask “what products do you use??” as if the answer is in a bottle when it’s really just genetics. 🤷🏽♀️
Greasing/oiling your scalp does not moisturize it, get rid of dandruff, or make your hair grow faster.
As a kid I remember my hairdresser using a fine toothed comb and “breaking up” the dandruff on my scalp before applying Sea Breeze to soothe it. Every single time, the dandruff came back worse. 😩 If I put oil on my scalp, it would take only a day before build up and large yellow flakes would rain out of my hair. But I thought because my scalp and my hair needed moisturizing that I couldn’t go without oils.
Well, I was right on one thing; my scalp and hair def needed moisture. But I wasn’t gonna get moisture from anything but water, and at the time I was avoiding water like the plague because I always had a fresh silk press or perm and I didn’t want my hair “reverting”.
If you have a scalp condition or chronic itchiness, you are very much making it worse by adding any of that to your head. The only solution is to wash your hair, loves. Yes, you may have to choose between looking “laid” and what’s actually good for your hair and scalp, but them’s the breaks.
The hair growth oils that line the shelves at Sally’s? Literally snake oil. Same goes for hair vitamins, biotin, MSM, rice water, JBCO, egg white/tea rinse/fruit or food products, African Black soap, rose water, etc. Nothing topical, save for specific medicated prescription drugs from a dermatologist, can make hair grow. Save ya money, hunny!
Co-washing and water-only washing doesn’t get your hair clean.
Conditioner is incapable of doing what shampoo does. You’re just gonna add layers of build up on your hair doing co-washes. Water-only cleansing is like never using soap in your laundry and expecting your clothes to be clean. 😬 Only putting shampoo on your scalp and carefully avoiding the length of your hair is the equivalent of white folks not washing their legs in the shower. Don’t do any of this.
I actually do not know where the myth started that Black folks hair is somehow too fragile to handle shampoo, a thing that is specifically formulated for hair. 😅 If shampoo is drying your hair out, you need to make sure you’re using the right kind of shampoo, not ditching shampoo altogether. If you need help, I touched on shampoo basics here!
Using a spray bottle to “refresh” your hair doesn’t do what you think it’s doing.
Tiny water droplets from a spray bottle only sit on the surface of your hair, even more so if your hair already has product in it. If your styles aren’t holding until your next wash, you may need to re-examine what you’re using, how you apply it, and how you set it. If you need to refresh a style or get moisture, nothing less than washing your hair will do.
Finger detangling or using a wide toothed comb or denman brush isn’t doing the job.
I know we’ve been raised to think that because our hair is tightly coiled, that we have to treat it with kid gloves. But we actually do more harm to our hair by not detangling correctly. Detangling is the act of getting shed hair out from your head so it doesn’t wrap up in your healthy hair and cause breakage. A wide toothed comb can’t do that, and neither can your fingers. A denman brush is ONLY supposed to be used to hold tension in the hair when blowdrying it straight. What you want is a Felicia Leatherwood brush and to use that bad boy in the shower right after putting conditioner on sopping wet hair, trust me.
Protective styles don’t exist.
Buns, braids, wigs… all of them look fantastic when done right and it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t wear them. But they are all just alternative styles; nothing is being protected. I know a lot of us love the low maintenance that having these styles provide, but I want us to examine why they are thought of as low maintenance: it’s because folks are less likely to wash their hair/detangle while having them.
Any style that discourages you from weekly hair washing cannot be protective. It instead promotes hair neglect. Yes, I know, it can cost thousands of dollars for those waist length box braids or sew in, but you paid for the labor that goes into those kinds of styles, not the ability to keep them in for as long as possible. Not touching your hair for weeks on end means you’ll have dehydrated hair with mad buildup to get rid of. And btw, that type of damage to the hair cannot be fixed in just one visit to the salon. For as many weeks as you go without washing your hair, you need that many weeks out of an alternative style with frequent washing to help it recover.
Dry hair is determined by its behavior, not how it feels.
This one has a lot of folks tripped out because logically, we should be able to just touch our strands and know that it needs moisture. Unfortunately, so many of us don’t know what our actual hair feels like without it being slathered in products, so the moment that we stop using them we think our hair is “dry” when it’s really just how our natural hair texture may feel. It’s def not easy in the beginning to let go of the familiarity a nicely oiled head of hair presents. 🥲
So, how do you know if you have dry hair? If it can’t hold a curl pattern without manipulation, is hydrophobic (if water doesn’t completely flatten hair to your scalp when you wash it, it’s not absorbing), is extremely difficult to detangle, breaks off easily, etc.
You don’t need to rinse your hair in cold water.
Only reason you should even consider it is if you have vivid color in your hair, but… lemme tell y’all sumn.
Years ago when I started dyeing my hair, it was typical for a permanent black hair dye to act like a semi-perm and wash almost completely out or turn grey in a few weeks. Now that I have a much better hair regimen that keeps my hair in the best health it can be, my semi-permanent fashion colors last for months until I decide to touch it up again. And I absolutely do not relish being cold in the shower, so I just use hot water.
The health of your hair matters more than any gimmicks or products you can use to fix a problem.
Long hair/shiny hair is not an indicator of health, it is an indicator of genetics.
I want DESPERATELY for us as a people to break the shackles of thinking that the only hair that matters is long and thick, or that someone who has long hair is an automatic authority on hair care.
If you want an idea of how long your hair can get, then look to your family. If your mom or dad don’t have hair touching their waist then it’s highly possible you were not blessed with the DNA to get your hair waist length either. And that’s okay! You aren’t any less valid. It will just save you a LOT of heartache to learn to embrace your hair the way it naturally is rather than to run around buying products and chasing haircare trends in hopes that a miracle will happen. Not to mention, I’ve seen a lot of folks with long hair but they ain’t had a trim in years and it absolutely shows. 😬
A lot of folks do not have shiny hair, that is once again due to genetics not hair health. Matte hair has a different surface texture and that’s absolutely fine! Only manufactured beauty standards glorify long and shiny hair.
Speaking of hair length…
Shrinkage is not your enemy.
A general rule is that the only hair length that matters is how you regularly wear it.
My hair stays comfortably at the nape of my neck now that I wear my curls 100% of the time. If I pull it taut, then it’ll reach mid-back. But I don’t plan on straightening my hair ever again to show that mid-back length, so… 🤷🏽♀️ I have short hair because that is how it lays without manipulation. And that’s fine.
Shrinkage doesn’t scare me because it’s what healthy curly hair DOES. If my hair springs like a coil and retains shape, then I’m doing something right! I have always wanted long hair, I won’t deny that. But if I have to stretch my natural hair in any way in order to GET that long hair, it’s not worth it to me. I’ll just wear a wig for a hot min if I wanna whip my hair back and forth.
Air drying your hair isn’t better than diffusing it with a hair dryer.
Another thing we’ve been told is that heat damages our hair and that air drying is best. That’s not necessarily true.
DIRECT heat can damage your hair (flat irons, blow outs, pressing combs). INDIRECT heat (hooded dryers, a diffuser attachment on a handheld dryer) does not. In fact, diffused heat sets your wash and gos/twist outs way better than air drying. It cuts down on frizz and ensures your style will last through the week.
Also, it’s better to dry your hair completely rather than wait hours for it to air dry and then maybe sleep on wet hair. Fun fact: Leaving your hair wet for too long can cause mold to grow in your hair! 😱 And if you lay a wet head on a pillow, the bacteria transfers to your pillowcase and you continue to sleep in that until you wash the pillow!
You can’t “lock moisture in” your hair.
Water evaporates. It’s what it’s gonna do. 🤷🏽♀️ Putting leave ins or oils on your hair in hopes that water stays in your strands longer isn’t a thing, despite what a lot of us have been told. The only thing you’re gonna be left with is greasy, dehydrated hair if you don’t wash it weekly.
Avoiding getting a hair cut will not grant you healthy or long hair.
Hair grows an average of half an inch per month, regardless of race. The belief that “Black hair doesn’t grow” is rooted in anti-Blackness. 😅 If you’re not seeing growth, then it’s most likely that your hair is simply breaking off faster than the rate of growth, or you have an underlying health issue that needs to be addressed by a doctor.
I know I used to hate hairdressers who seemed “scissor happy” because I was always chasing length, so I would often only tell them to “dust” the ends if they do anything. Now, I will grab my clippers and cut inches off my hair in a heartbeat if my hair starts looking raggedy. Clinging on to scraggly hair because it takes “so long to grow” doesn’t do you any favors, trust me. 😭 Take better care of your hair and you will retain length a lot easier, and that includes getting quarterly haircuts.
Porosity does not matter.
How many of us did this whole “put a strand of hair in a cup of water and see if it floats or sinks”? Well, what if I told you that it means absolutely nothing for everyday hair care? 😭 Porosity isn’t even a static state, so many things can change it on a dime!
The only time porosity matters is if you are getting a color service and that is only for your stylist to determine. And you will never see a stylist worth their salt putting your hair in a cup of water to figure it out. Also, a lot of “low” porosity hair is just product build up.
Using home remedies to address hair loss concerns doesn’t work.
No, it doesn’t matter that your grandma did black tea rinses regularly to stop her hair from shedding. It doesn’t matter what women in India do with their hair, either. This may be a hard pill to swallow, but it’s perfectly okay to evolve past things that aren’t truly helpful even if it’s a Black culture staple.
Please don’t be afraid to go to a dermatologist. 🥺 There’s even a Black Dermatologist Directory to reference if you don’t wanna go to just anybody. Yeah, it may seem pricey, but Dermatologists have the training to cut through the guesswork, pinpoint what the problem is and save you a LOT of time and pain. You don’t wanna fuck around and make your hair loss WORSE by doing psuedo-chemistry in your kitchen.
“Do what works for you” doesn’t have the mileage you think it does.
When people don’t want to hear that their current hair practices aren’t really helping them, they default to “Well, it works for ME!” or “Everyone’s hair is different!”
Nobody’s hair is so different that it doesn’t need a weekly wash with shampoo. Nobody’s hair is the magical unicorn that grew 4 inches in a month because they used JBCO. Your hair is not “built different”, and believing that it is will lead you to spending money on things you don’t need. Doing what works for you only comes after you have nailed the basics of healthy hair care, and it only varies in like… if you prefer to use styling foam to set your wash n go as opposed to gel. Or using one brand’s shampoo over another. Not “my hair likes butters and oils and staying in protective styles for months on end and is doing just fine, and you telling me otherwise is anti-Black”.
If you have unexamined hatred of your natural hair texture, then nothing in this long-ass post will hit for you. If a large part of your identity as a Black person is rooted in product chasing, protective styles and taking an entire business day to wash your hair, then a lot of this will offend you. I’m really sorry for that, and I am not here to argue with anybody. I’ll just tell you “if you like it, I love it” and go on about my business.
For everyone else, I really hope this post helps to shed some light on hair care and set you on a better journey that gives you more time and more confidence in your styles! 🥹
#this post long as hell and I absolutely forgot how to do a read more cut#I hope y’all got that automatic post reducer option toggled cause I know that saved my life 😂#but as you can see I’m very passionate on saving my people trial and error in hair care#cause seriously if I was told this ages ago I would have gone natural way before now#the hardest part for most folks I think will be the mindset change required to let go of bad habits#cause no matter what the facts say if you not ready to hear it then 🤷🏽♀️ can’t be helped!#black hair care#natural hair care#hair care tips
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bakugou Katsuki - Rising
So I told someone a while ago I’d be writing an essay on Bakugou’s lines from 284, and I’m keeping true to my word. If you’re wondering which lines, well my friend, these lines;
So this, to me, is one of the most emotionally packed pages of these recent chapters. For one, it shows us that Bakugou has always been watching Deku, the same as Deku has been watching him. Since they were kids, probably from the age of 4, Bakugou was able to tell Deku never thought of himself first, it was always what he could do to help and protect other people with no regard to his own safety or well-being.
“He’s always been like that.”
How would Bakugou know Deku has always been this way if he wasn’t paying attention to him? It goes beyond his bullying in Middle School, because he’s watched Deku stand up for other’s his entire life. The very first scene of the manga is Deku protecting a child from Bakugou and his group of misfits, despite being quirkless, and essentially helpless.
Despite being scared, and knowing he didn’t have the strength to take on those boys, he still stood his ground and did what he could to protect the other kid. Bakugou witnessed that first hand, since he was the aggressor. He was the one Deku was protecting someone from.
There was no way Bakugou wouldn’t remember something like that.
We know he remembered how Deku extended his hand to him when he fell in the stream, even though Bakugou was fine and didn’t need any help. Deku still waded through that water and even risked possibly getting himself hurt, to reach out to Bakugou and make sure he was alright.
Now, I am going to point out that the stream incident definitely happened before the scene of Deku protecting that boy since it’s evident they’re older in that scene, but it was presented first (literally the first panel of the entire manga), so it takes precedent.
Then we have the big one, which is the Sludge Villain incident, and Deku’s biggest show of self-sacrifice probably to date within the manga, since he was quirkless and would have certainly ended up dead if All Might hadn’t managed to power up. Even with the times he’s wrecked his body using OfA, he at least had some kind of fighting chance because of the power, but with the Sludge Villain, he had nothing. He was just throwing himself out there in hopes, by some miracle, he could do something to save his friend, even if it meant losing his life in the process.
Another instance of Bakugou witnessing firsthand the self sacrificial nature of Deku. Throughout the manga we’re given these instances, and the next big one is Bakugou’s kidnapping. Now, he didn’t see Deku’s fight with Muscular, but he did see the aftermath, he saw that ruined body running at him full force with no care to the damage done to himself, and even before that, he saw Shoji carrying him while Deku continued to plan out their plan of rescue, like his entire body wasn’t a crumpled mess.
Time and time again, Bakugou has been witness to Deku’s behavior, to this self sacrificial nature. The scene above is the first real time we see Bakugou acknowledge it. He tells Deku to stay back, he knows if he continues trying to fight looking like that, he’s going to die. I’ve seen other translations and I believe in the anime he says something to the context of “Don’t come, Deku.” Which, either way you look at it, it gives the same impression of Bakugou trying to protect Deku in that moment. Because he knew if there was an opportunity for Deku to reach, he would have fought until there was nothing left of him.
“And now that he can do so much more...”
This line is important because it is Bakugou acknowledging Deku’s current strength with OfA, but it is also his confession of worry because he knows who Deku is, and what this means for him. If Deku was reckless and willing to sacrifice himself when he was a 4 year old child with no quirk, well now that he has the strongest power essentially in existence, that means certain death. There is nothing stopping him from completely destroying himself, and we saw a brief example of that when Deku fought Muscular, though not even close to the level he was going at Shigaraki, and what Bakugou was actually getting to witness during this chapter and 285/286.
I use the above image because it kind of shows how bad off Deku was, which is far worse than when he fought Muscular, let me remind you. That scene is in chapter 285, after he’s essentially destroyed both of his arms hitting Shigaraki probably upwards of 10 times with 100% OfA.
Remember, Bakugou has been watching all of this from the ground.
“Something doesn’t feel right, it makes me wanna keep him at arms length.”
Well ya know, I don’t really blame you for feeling that way, Bakugou, I wouldn’t feel right if the kid I knew my entire life was willing to die at literally every turn without thinking for a split second about himself, either. It’s a little strange, but that’s what makes Deku the unstoppable force that he is, because he has the drive to save people no matter what. Now if he could master his power and depend on other’s, it would be even better, because then maybe he wouldn’t have to kill himself trying to protect people.
But seriously, that line shows Bakugou's uncertainty about getting close to Deku, because that kind of behavior is scary. It's intimidating. To just...throw your life away for the sake of someone else, that's gotta be scary to see someone do, and Bakugou has witnessed it over and over because of his closeness to Deku.
Now for the big one.
"Back then, I ignored my own weakness...so I ended up bullying him."
There's the kicker, folks. The real development we've all been waiting for.
I do want to point out that when Bakugo was 4, he didn't realize he had weaknesses like that. He was honest to God just a bratty kid that probably thought Deku was weird for caring so much about people despite, essentially, being useless to them. Because what could Deku do? Nothing. He couldn't help anyone because he was quirkless, but he still tried, and that's what affected Bakugou so strongly.
So strongly, in fact, that he never forgot it for a single second.
From 4 years old all the way up to 16 years old. 12 years. 12 years Bakugou Katsuki was witnessing Deku's self sacrificial nature. Again and again he watched as this boy who had nothing, continued to fight for something, and then he was granted power, terrifying power, and now Bakugou is left to wonder how the fuck any of this could have happened. Because if Deku had just stayed quirkless and accepted it, maybe, just maybe, he would stop that self sacrifical bullshit. Maybe he would see himself a bit more.
But then he was given OfA, and all of that hope was gone. Now he was given a power meant to take on the greatest evils and every person before Deku had died for the cause, so why would it stop with Deku, who was already ready to get himself killed to protect someone else when he was like 14 years old?
The scenes we have of Bakugou acknowledging Deku's behavior, and acknowledging his own behavior, it's such a raw scene. It takes a lot to acknowledge you've done wrong by someone else. It takes a lot of strength to sit back and recognize those ugly parts of you, and here Bakugou is, doing just that. And he isn't doing it for some self righteous get me off, either. He's doing it because he genuinely cares about Deku's well being, and he always has.
It never came out the right way, and he sees that now, but that doesn't mean the concern wasn't there. He just didn't know the right ways to express it, but as things have gotten more serious and now Deku is truly risking his life for this cause, he's come face to face with it. He can't hide from it anymore. The more OfA develops, the more Deku is going to put himself out there, and Bakugou isn't going to sit around while he kills himself when he could just learn to ask for help.
This stretches all the way into 285 and Bakugou's sacrifice, because he saw Deku about to end up seriously hurt or worse, and he knew he couldn't let that happen. Of all the years spent endlessly tearing himself apart for other people, Bakugou knew he needed to show the other in some way he didn't have to do it like that. He didn't have to fight alone.
That, and it was part of his atonement. It was a piece of his apology to Deku, to show him that he valued him, and he was willing to put his life on the line for someone, for him.
Bakugou didn't think when he rushed out to save Deku. It was instinctual, like breathing. He saw someone he cared about in danger, and his body moved on it's own. That, from the angry brat we get in chapter 1, is a beautiful showcase of perfect character development and growth. If you take into account everything I've discussed throughout this, it should be easy to realize or at least see a bit of Bakugou's perspective, and his thought process when dealing with Deku.
It never justifies any of his past behavior, but it gives us clarification, and then allows us to appreciate his thoughts and actions in 284 and 285 even more.
#bnha spoilers#bnha meta#bnha#mha#bkdk#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#kacchan#deku#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#bnha analysis#bnha manga#mha manga
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
canon juke fluff based on “till forever falls apart” by ashe and finneas
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Raucous laughter disappeared in a snap as the door slammed behind her. Her feet stumbled from the sudden change, finding her balance again and then hopping towards the garden gate. She left a glitter trail in her wake.
Julie turned seventeen today. She knew it’d be special the second she woke up, Carlos blaring ‘Dancing Queen’ like a little shit before her alarm clock went off. It was the most brotherly way he could congratulate her and she loved him for it. (Not after she chased him though - who the hell did that?!)
Flynn came by during breakfast, phasing through Alex without realising as she placed a glittery crown atop Julie’s curls. It was plastic and clunky and the number 17 was pink and glowed in the dark. Luke sat on the kitchen island teasing her for it, Reggie helping Ray make pancakes and yelling he wanted one too. It was barely seven am and her day was the best.
At school, she was showered with birthday wishes and her Instagram flooded with messages of people that confirmed they’d come to her party.
Despite everything, her traitorous thoughts always ended up in the same spot. Luke. He teased her at breakfast, but he didn’t hug her like Alex and Reggie. He didn’t poof beside her as she walked down the driveway to quickly impart a joke or a secret or a lyric, something for her to mull about on the trek to school with Flynn. There was nothing.
On the one hand, it could just be pre-performance jitters. Luke took every gig a hundred percent seriously and got pretty intense if a lot of people were going to be watching. If he didn’t set the stage on fire in one song, he’d feel like he failed. So yeah, Julie allowed herself to think that was the case for his absentmindedness.
If only she didn’t know him so well. She knew it was something else entirely. She knew it had to do with her age; the fact that she aged. It was hard to not let it temper her birthday excitement, but all she wished for (just like when she blew out her candles for her sixteenth birthday) was for them to hide in her daydreams and be together without qualms. That he was hers.
Luke and her have made plenty of mistakes over the two years that they’ve known each other. Falling in love wasn’t one. She couldn’t believe that - even if he’d given her mixed signals since their fated gig at The Orpheum.
The party was a hit. Dad bought a big peanut butter chocolate cake and they played their best set ever, the studio decorated in an explosion of flowers and butterflies and streamers. Julie was in a glittery purple dress, the crown to match, each lyric coming from her lips laced with glee and pink lemonade. That perpetual thrill coursing through her as she danced with Reggie and hyped up Alex and - her favourite part of all - shared the mic with Luke. His aloof behaviour from before was gone then, coming towards her in that greedy way that made her heart stutter out of place.
Julie wondered if anyone ever believed he was a hologram prior to the band ‘moving to America’. How could they, when he’s always looked so alive and real and warm and with his eyes so intently on hers that it felt like he bore through her, straight to her soul.
Pushing through the sensation, she shot him a teasing grin and returned to the piano.
After the set, Flynn put her DJ skills to good use and put on a killer playlist. Julie danced until her feet ached, sang along until her throat hurt, ate cake until she was full. She was happy and seventeen. As the hours went by, more and more classmates trickled away, ending with her family hoarding the kitchen island as they ate the remnants of cake. All except one.
It hurt. Julie knew Luke was brooder - but on her birthday? Because he couldn’t handle it? Tomorrow, she'd be on her way to surpass them. First Reggie, then Alex and then Luke. Was it selfish of her for wanting to spend time with him? For wanting to dance with him? If just once? If Alex and Reggie could, why couldn’t he?
Without a second thought (or third, fourth, fifth - it was always and forever tethered to Luke), she stumbled out the front door towards the garden gate. Glitter stuck to the pavement.
The light was on in the studio, their safe haven surrounded by fallen decorations as if a storm had passed. Her bare foot kicked a balloon, a smile tugging on her lips as the purple thing drifted and bounced against the trees.
She slid the doors open. There he was.
“Luke?”
His back was turned towards her, head bent over the grand piano as he fervently wrote in his trusty songbook. More songs were theirs than just his in there, she knew, and it left her warm.
He perked up, head turning, a gentle smile on his lips. “Hey birthday girl. You look like shit.”
She laughed, coming closer, and watched as more glitter fell to the floor. She must look like a sweaty, exhausted disco ball. Despite this, a sense of calmness washed over her. Luke was here and he was smiling at her and everything made sense again.
“Thanks,” she jabbed. “You look even worse.”
Tensing his muscles, as if she hadn’t seen them before, he smirked. “Please. The sweat makes my arms look better.”
The smile stuck to her cheeks, stupidly enamoured by his silliness, and remembered a time when she didn’t allow herself to feel like this. But that was before the late night sessions in the studio, before he became corporeal, before he placed tender kisses on her forehead before important gigs, as if infusing her with the power to kill it, before he hung out in her room and before he allowed her to know more about 90s-Luke. (There wasn’t much difference. According to his stories, he was just as endearing then.)
Before one frustrated kiss between them, months ago, nearly blew everything up. If the band and their connection wasn’t so tight, she didn’t know what would’ve happened. They never spoke about it. Perhaps the knowledge that it happened, the idea that it could happen again, realising that her daydreams weren’t one-sided - it left her yearning. Who would blame her? She was seventeen.
The kiss had been a mistake, but that ‘stupidly enamoured’ feeling? It was only a natural reaction. She didn’t want anyone else.
Crossing the final distance, Julie tightly wrapped her arms around him. Luke held her close, face burrowed in her neck and letting his waning body spray and her flowery perfume melt together.
“You haven’t given me a hug today,” she whispered.
He nodded. “I know.”
She bit back a sigh. This couldn’t be a mistake too. “Why?”
“Cause you’re seventeen,” he muttered. “I can’t pretend you’re-”
“Younger?”
His palms curled around her, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye. The green, bright yet troubled, flitted across her face. Dejected, it dropped to the ground, as if the sight of her brought him wonder and ache at once. Could she tell him it was mutual? Could she-
“Able to be mine.”
It was uttered so quietly, she almost didn’t catch it. It was as if the world went off its axis, both precariously close to falling off the edge and Julie debating whether that would be a bad thing or not. If it really was that insane if it meant she got to be right here, in his arms.
The feeling coiled in her stomach, pushed itself up her ribcage, straight through her heart and slid past her throat. The words danced on her lips, lively and colourful and devoted.
And then she said it. “I love you.”
His eyes slowly locked with hers, a glint of uncertainty found beneath. The lack of surprise on his part would make her laugh had she not been so terrified to lose him completely, all at once. His fingers pressed into her skin, like she’d be the one backtracking her words and running out. Like he wasn’t the one with the ability to vanish from her grasp.
Luke exhaled and dropped his forehead against hers, gaze unwavering. Her instincts told her to shut her eyes, look away, maybe even bridge the gap, but they were so close to finally becoming something. Whatever that might be.
“Why aren’t you scared?”, he breathed.
Her nervous hands found solace on his cheeks. “I am scared. And it’s despite that. All I wanted today, Luke, was have you be with me.” And then her eyes clenched tight anyway, overwhelmed by the moment. “I’m scared and- and despite everything… I love you.”
Her vulnerability hanging by a thread, she watched as he processed her words. She had no clue if she said or did the right thing, though her hands were frozen in place. Her heart rate picked up when he mirrored her, calloused fingers slipping from her shoulders to her face.
Luke swallowed, hard. “I’m sorry that- that I’ve been distant. But I’m scared and not for the reasons you think. I’m scared cause-” His chuckle was like a candle awakening in a dark cave. “-cause I don’t wanna spend a minute loving anyone else.”
The previous terror washed away, a brilliant smile blooming on her lips at his confession. Her head tilted, allowing her nose to brush his and sigh when he didn’t pull back.
“I was scared cause I thought you didn’t want that,” he finished.
Her voice drowned in reverence. “I do want that. I want you. Until…” Shaking her head, she let out the truth. “Until the universe takes you back.”
The boy laughed, relief sagging his shoulders and pulling so impossibly close, so tightly it should’ve hurt - had euphoria not been bursting in her chest at the simple action. His watery eyes held all she ever wanted to see. Him. Honestly, truly, him.
“I-”, he stuttered, his own anxious smile stopping him. Her thumbs pressed into the lines, urging him to keep going. It softened, in that earnest way only he knew of. “I think I fell back on this earth to be with you, Julie. I think- I know I’m yours.” That incredulous laugh erupted from his chest again, so full, as if it’d been waiting. “I’m so glad I get to hold you.”
There was so much she wanted to say - that she was his, has always been his, that it was insane because they were so young, but what the hell was time anyway? Julie wanted to be with him, forever, until forever disintegrated like smoke between her fingers.
Now, she cradled his cheeks and he was warm. And he told her he loved her, in ways she never expected him to.
Instead of speaking, Julie kissed him. Her lips were sticky from soda and his still held the taste of lovesick words and lyrics, but it was perfect. Their mouths puckered from smiling, that damned kiss from months ago replaced by this one. It felt as if all her wishes, her restless midnight questions, all were granted by one simple touch. By his arms wrapping around her and hers gripping onto his jaw and hair. So tight, so close, as if the tides of Fate would pull the other away right this second.
But nothing happened that second. And the one after that. And again, again, again. They kissed and the universe allowed them to.
Julie didn’t think there was a more beautiful way to fall in love.
With a quiet thrill leading up her spine, she told him. “I think this year might be fun,” the girl grinned against his lips. “The first year of forever of giving my heart to you.”
His tender gaze rested on hers, relaxed hands caressing her back. Love was a good look on him. “Are you gonna say stuff like that now? To fuck with me?”
She giggled, glee bursting at the seams. “You started!”
“Yeah.” Luke trailed off, a dopey smile glittering his eyes. Just as he leaned in for another kiss, he stilled. “Oh! I was writing some stuff for a song!” Nodding at the discarded notebook on the piano, he asked: “Wanna work on it?”
Just like that, they were back to being Luke and Julie. Singers, musicians, writing partners, best friends, each other’s forever.
Propping the glittery crown on his head, she matched his fond expression and went to sit on the piano bench. “Yeah, show me.”
Julie would look back on that moment and smile. Two seventeen year olds, defying Fate and the Universe and everything in between, mocking the stars that yes, Luke and her did belong together. There was strength in knowing their forever was predetermined, that they knew it wouldn’t be eternal, but that that was okay. Every second mattered then. Every laugh became fuller, a kiss more passionate, a smile brighter. They spent a lifetime, counted in quick adolescent years, sharing their hearts.
For a while, Luke was hers. And forevermore would they be together - in the whispers of songs, in memories, in lingering cologne on clothing.
It was the sweetest, most adventurous romance of all.
But that wasn’t important now. Luke sat next to her, held his notebook out, and together they did what they knew best. When the clock struck midnight, all he did was kiss her again.
“You know,” he muttered, lips brushing her ear. “The things we said? Might make for a killer song.”
Julie’s nose scrunched up in delight, thumbing to a fresh page and clicking her pen. Nuzzling into his neck and interlacing their free hands, she swore she felt it. Their tether. It was real - just as real as him loving her and her loving him. It was there. She took a deep breath.
“Let’s do it.”
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @willexx @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @ruzek-halstead
#juke#jatp fanfiction#julie and the phantoms#otp: i think we make each other better#i was supposed to make this when the song came out but i got sidetracked
134 notes
·
View notes
Note
Perhaps the "stop moving!" Prompt for Jon, where he's been kidnapped by yet another avatar group and they're trying to subdue him but he's fighting too much so they break something like his leg or wrist to make him stop 👀
Hello! I’ve been thinking about this prompt for a while, and I decided to set this during the Circus kidnapping (hope you don’t mind!) and tackled it with another prompt, this one by @give-me-a-minute-to-think who asked for “ a post-circus-kidnapped fic. like, how martin and timdiscover jon was kidnaped and their reaction (espically tims.) we see in canon martin addressing that fact, but not literally anyone else. i just want some complicated relatinship and tim to be nice to jon even a little.” Hope you two enjoy!
Jon’s pretty sure bones weren’t meant to bend that way.
It was his fault, really. He shouldn’t have put up a struggle. He should’ve realized the futility of his situation and yielded to the rough, unfamiliar hands forcing him into the van. But Jon’s nothing if not stubborn, so a few flailing arms and weak kicks were to be expected. And the retaliation, of course, should’ve also been expected.
“Stop movin’,” came the gruff voice of the delivery man, with a face so nondescript Jon could forget it if he looked away for only a second. He gives one last weak slap to the hands on his body. Wrong move.
A sickening crack could be heard along with a sharp cry- Jon’s cry, because the pain currently emanating from his one good wrist is white-hot and agonizing. His eyes are blurring and the inside of the van is stifling in its darkness, but even he could see that hands and wrists weren’t supposed to look like this. He bites back the nausea and sags back into the rough hands, rendered frozen by the pain. There’s a chuckle, low and sinister, and one of the men begins to whistle the tune from the calliope.
And then his arms are yanked behind his back and the pain reaches a dizzying crescendo as his body decides it’s had enough, and sinks into oblivion.
_______
He spends his days being touched.
Cold hands and a face with a permanent smile. Sometimes there’s more of them, as if he’s a spectacle to be watched and studied. The Strangers like to learn about bodies, foreign as they are to them. Nikola enjoys narrating the process, poking and prodding at the bruises and burns and the strange, twisted hands. He doesn’t bite back his gasps and whimpers, he’s gagged, but Nikola likes to hear them. Likes to hear the wordless grumble of his voice, rendered mute and unintelligible.
The weeks go by, he loses hope. He’s not there much anymore, he’s somewhere else, a place where the pain can’t reach him. He’s back in Georgie’s apartment, the Admiral purring in his lap. He’s back in Research with a smiling Tim and a woman he imagines to be Sasha. He even thinks back to Martin’s lunches a few months ago with a sort of fondness. People talked to him, people cared. People worried when he was gone.
Every once in a while, his daydreams are interrupted by the sting of bones knitting together wrong or the itching flare of infected tissue. He starts to think of his eventual skinning as a sort of blessing in disguise; Lord knows he’s wanted to scratch himself out of it more than once. He just wishes they would hurry it up, not draw it out so much. Shouldn’t he be ready by now?
And then Michael comes. He feels a strange, manic strength return to him at the promise of a story, even if it ends in his own demise. I want to know. Tell me, tell me. The Eye’s gaze doesn’t reach him, but the power it’s planted within him grows. By the end, he feels strong enough to reach for the door handle himself, ignoring the pain that raising his arm causes.
It’s locked. His one salvation is gone. But then Michael is too, and Helen gives him a different sort of hope. One that lands him directly in Elias’s office.
His injuries are ignored in favor of a more pressing threat- Melanie. The only thing that keeps him standing and lucid is the remaining strength he siphoned from Michael’s statement. But it’s an empty, sickening vigor, one that’s sure to leave him feeling more drained than ever once it fades. Elias says nothing as he stumbles after Melanie with a limping pace, arriving some five minutes after her. She’s sitting at her desk, silently steaming when Jon makes his way in the office, leaning heavily against the doorframe.
“Jon!” Martin’s bright voice pipes up. “You’re back! We were wondering…” His voice trails off as he takes in Jon’s appearance, dirty and gaunt and yet shining with a strange sheen. A thousand showers won’t erase the feeling of those cold, slimy hands on him, Jon knows. Tim’s head pops up from his desk and even he looks a bit concerned; it’s the most positive feeling he’s shown Jon in ages.
“He was kidnapped, apparently,” Melanie drawls, and Jon doesn’t take her ambivalence to heart. She feels trapped like the rest of them. And Jon’s safe now, so what does it matter? What does any of this matter?
“K-Kidnapped?” Martin sputters, making his way over to his side. Jon flinches back unconsciously, gripping tightly at the wall and Martin stops in his tracks, his face softening. “We didn’t- nobody told us-”
“It’s fine,” Jon croaks, though they all know it isn’t. “It was- it was the Circus. A-And I’ll tell you about it-” he nods in Tim’s direction, seeing his wide-eyed stare out of the corner of his eye.”-as soon as I have a rest, if that’s alright.”
Martin casts a critical eye over him, his gaze coming to rest at the stiff way in which he holds his arms. “Seriously? I think you should go to the hospital, Jon. You look-”
“I’m fine now,” Jon assures him- he’d wave away the concern if he could lift his arm at all. “Just- just a moment, please.”
He limps to his office and they let him, their eyes reminding him of those curious mannequins and the way they stared and dissected him as if he were a cadaver on display. You’re not there anymore, he tries to reason as he collapses into his office chair. There’s a statement on his desk and he wonders if it was Elias or one of his assistants who placed it there, just waiting for him to come back. He’s so hungry.
But opening the file is agony. His burned hand cries out at any touch, and his crooked one doesn’t cooperate. Still, he forces the movement and the tape recorder clicks on for him, a move that usually chills him but now feels like a small mercy.
The words spill from his lips, natural and all-consuming. It doesn’t energize him as much as Michael’s direct account, but it certainly goes down easier, untainted by the jagged edges of the Spiral. He only realizes at the end that the statement was written in French, a language he doesn’t speak. Another development. Elias would be proud. Probably is, sitting up there in his office. And in perfect and non-coincidental timing, his email pings with a message from the man himself, informing him of his new flat, the keys to which are in his bottom drawer.
A new flat. How considerate. He tries not to think of the lonely, unprotected darkness that awaits him there. No Georgie. No Admiral. That’s probably for the best, he thinks. You wouldn’t want to endanger them.
Martin knocks, startling him out of his maudlin thoughts. He’s got tea and biscuits and Jon is struck by not only how much he missed the normalcy of the act, but how horribly hungry he is. For real food. He almost feels giddy with the realization.
“Thank you, Martin.” He’s rewarded with a tired smile and more questions. More apologies. He’s been reading statements. Jon worries about this, but Martin brushes it off. Jon keeps his arms resting on his lap, out of Martin’s sight. He gives non-answers to his inquiries and he can tell Martin’s frustrated- he only wants to help, but Jon won’t let him. They end the conversation at a strange but polite stalemate, a promise that there will be time for them to talk. He’s surprised Martin lets him go like this, but perhaps he’s realized what Jon already did all those weeks ago.
He’s beyond saving.
And then he’s gone again, back to that big room with those terrible waxworks and that strange, lilting tune and the faces that were wrong, the voices that were stolen. Everything echoed, even the tiniest of whimpers. And the laughter. He wants to curl up and make himself small, hide under the desk but his limbs are stiff and immovable, glued to his seat. His breaths start to come in small, tremulous gasps when another voice speaks up from the doorway.
“The Circus?”
Tim. Jon meets his eyes, attempting to get his emotions under control. You’re not there anymore. You’re back, you’re safe.
“A month you were gone,” Tim’s stomping over to his desk and Jon pushes his chair back, trying to create space but all Tim does is collapse into the chair across from him, heaving a sigh. He hasn’t sat there in ages. “Fuckin’ Elias. Where did they have you?”
Jon slumps in his seat, the tension in his frame somewhat easing. “It was a Wax Museum. I-I think that’s where they’ll be attempting the Unknowing.”
“That’s a lead, then.”
“Yeah,” Jon let out a weak chuckle. “At least something good came out of this.”
Tim’s eyes go dark. “Don’t joke about that.”
Jon nods, slightly taken aback by the fervor of the words. “S-Sorry.”
“What did you see? What happened?” He’s leaning forward now, his interest getting the best of him. Jon opens his mouth; he plans to answer- he could describe the waxworks, the van that took him away, the layout of his prison- but that’s not what comes out.
“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t stop touching me,” he says, his voice fading to a whisper with each word. “Everyday. She came in and she smiled and she kept talking about my skin and touching me and I-I-” And once again he’s back there, cold hands on his face and mocking voices in his ear and it’s wrong, so wrong-
A hand rests on his shoulder and he rears back, an automatic response of revulsion as his heart stutters in his chest. But it’s not a smiling mannequin, it’s Tim. Tim, who’s kneeling by his chair so he doesn’t loom, whose hands are warm and real, flesh and blood. He’s staring down at Jon’s lap, where his arms lay crooked and burned and broken. Useless.
“They needed me to stop moving,” he whispers, as if it’s a valid explanation. Tim’s jaw is clenched. It’s a barely concealed rage and Jon feels guilty that it scares him so much. And yet, in spite of that anger, or perhaps because of it, he takes the hand from his shoulder, gentle and slow so Jon can see the path of his movements. He puts two fingers to the crooked arm, an impossibly soft movement as he leans in to inspect the damage.
And there’s no ulterior motive behind it. It’s just a touch, careful and concerned, probing lightly at his arm like he’s something fragile that Tim doesn’t want to break. He feels a tightness in his chest that for once doesn’t have fear as its source.
“I would’ve looked for you. If I’d have known.”
Tim says the words more to his lap than to him. And yes, he suspected that if Tim knew the Circus had him, he would’ve looked. But it wouldn’t have been for him. His presence would only be incidental. Tim’s staring at his arm as if the power of his gaze could knit it back together right and whole. His hand remains in place, and Jon wonders if it’s for Tim more than him. It’s as if he has to be reminded that Jon’s real, that he’s here.
“I need to tell you something.” The words are loaded with import. “But not now. Are you still staying with your friend?” Jon blinks at the change in subject.
“N-No. I have a new flat, but-”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” Tim’s suddenly all business, rising to his feet and looking down at Jon with a face that allowed for no argument. “Not with this Circus business. You can stay at mine, after you go to A&E. You’re not okay.”
Jon stares down at his lap, all fight leaving him. “I know.”
He lets Tim take control, lets him do that aggressive sort of care-taking he was known for in the earlier days of their friendship. It’s not the same; there’s no gentle words, no teasing but stern instruction. Just a silent tending that feels familiar all the same. Tim’s the one who speaks to the doctors, who listens to their instructions and later explains to Jon what’s going to have to be done in the coming days, as if he were a child. He knows it’s going to be bad, painful. But Tim keeps his voice level and Jon is somehow reassured. When they get to his flat and Jon’s warm and medicated and settled on the couch, he asks the question and Tim answers, his voice fluid and his words made eloquent in their grief. And Jon understands.
Tim doesn’t let him sleep on the couch. He’s curled up in the bed under a mountain of blankets and he pretends not to notice Tim standing in the doorway like some sort of sentinel.
“I would’ve looked.” He repeats the words as if trying to convince himself of their veracity. “If I’d have known.”
Jon closes his eyes and tries to believe him.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135263
#my writing#tma#the magnus archives#prompt fill#jonathan sims#tim stoker#martin blackwood#cw injuries#broken bones#angst#Anonymous
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism; the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.
I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.
I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.
Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would unironically write Viv messages like:
“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.
The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day, but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:
There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.
The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....
That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.
Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with. Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))
Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa. It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.
So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.
Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.
Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).
Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.
If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.
I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?
I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is
“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”
but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -
“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”
TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.
Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.
That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.
Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.
inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”
I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?
Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!
TL;DR: PART TWO
VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton. Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.
BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.
#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#critical fandom#I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts#tw: stalker
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Island Dreams - Epilogue
So, this is it.
We officially reached the end.
I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending.
This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter.
it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too.
I hope you love the girls.
I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.
I am coming back.. A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.
And now i'll leave you to the story.
Enjoy <3
--------------------
5 years later
My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago.
I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore.
And well, you know the story after that.
It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.
Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary.
Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja.
Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short.
But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different.
Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane.
Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot.
Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature.
If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar.
Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar.
Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family.
So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour.
Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation.
Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering.
My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased.
I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south.
Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after.
Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department.
Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months.
Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes.
Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything.
My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.
***
“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her.
Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand.
“Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter.
“Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth.
They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him.
“I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand.
Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus.
Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted.
“I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly.
“I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn.
“So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.”
“Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin.
Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?”
“Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father.
Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.”
With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer.
The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop.
Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.”
“Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls.
Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan.
“You look tired.”
“They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.”
“My girl.” Said Rowan proudly.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.”
Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.”
“Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.”
“Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.”
“I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.”
Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.”
“Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.”
He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.”
“You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water.
“She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.”
“I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed.
“We’ll let her decide.”
“Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.”
Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop.
Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while.
“Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?”
Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything.
“Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.”
“Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms.
“Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face.
“She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.”
Aelin laughed and blushed a bit.
“Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit.
“Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope.
“The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.”
When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale.
“Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.”
“Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight.
“But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.”
Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her.
“I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop.
Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip.
“Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence.
“You really have super powers.”
Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”
Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers.
“I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.”
Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.”
The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes.
“Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?”
“Yes.” They both squealed.
Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?”
The two girls nodded and left the room.
Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs.
The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes.
Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.”
“Freyja finally calmed down.”
“My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him.
He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.”
Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away.
Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling.
Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.”
Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.”
In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.”
The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour.
“They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed.
“They do love Totoro.” He added smiling.
“Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.”
Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.”
“Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s.
Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her.
“This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.”
Rowan kissed her temple.
“This is my dream too.”
TAG:
@rowaelinismyotp
#rowaelin#rowan whitethorn#aelin galythinius#rowan x aelin#rowaelinkids#fanfic#Throne of Glass series
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nothing is Wrong, Doc, Trust Me
“Thank you for coming here today,” Dr. Iplier said, in his spot on the table. Dark just sat down on their spot, seeing that the rest of the seats were empty.
“It’s… just me,” Dark awkwardly said.
“I know,” Iplier replied, smiling for a second before having a serious face. “We need to talk about Wilford.”
Just at the tone of his voice, Dark knew that this had to be one of those conversations.
“What about him,” Dark asked flatly. “He seems perfectly normal to me.”
This was usually Dark’s go-to sentence; something quick and dismissive, which would get rid of something quickly without much thought. Sure, Dark would say it whenever the topic of Wilford is brought up, but nobody has really caught onto it yet.
“That’s what you say all the time,” the doctor said. Well, shit. “There’s no other way to put it, but Wilford is not normal. In fact, he’s the most… mentally unstable person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a bunch of wackos ever since we came here.”
Dark frowned.
“I don’t see how you think he’s worse than anyone else,” they said.
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Iplier replied, scratching his chin. “I was able to meet up with him a few days ago, and… well, I think you may need to see this.”
The doctor pulled out a piece of paper from underneath the table, and slid it in front of Dark.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Name: Wilford Warfstache (that can’t be his real name…)
Birth date: 11/9/????
Age: ???
Hair: Black
Eyes: Hazel (with a hint of pink?)
Height: 5’10
Weight: ???
Other: Pink handlebar mustache, no idea if it’s dyed - Forgets to wear pants most of the time - Carries a knife and gun everywhere, even when nothing bad is happening.
Story: Something bad enough to make him like this, I’m sure…
Now: A TV show host, even though he’s killed multiple guests… Talks to Dark… a lot. A hopeless romantic. Cheerful, friendly, but can be intimidating when he doesn’t know he is. Dismissive over time, and pops in and out of nowhere when we least expect it. Everybody suspects he has no laws of physics. He causes trouble when he says it was an accident, or he’s dismissive of it. He takes certain things too seriously, and ends up getting himself in trouble for it. Spontaneously shoots in random directions and excuses it for “target practice”. Can get very violent and easily offended. Mood swings, random violence, gun and knife handling, random bursts of singing… possibly more than that.
Likes: Dark (literally the first thing that came to his mind), fidget toys, TV, collecting weapons, vintage clothing, helping, storytelling, dancing, colors, music, straws for drinks, creativity, distractions, Bubbles™, himself
Dislikes: Interruptions, feeling alone, sitting still, too much detail, loud people, losing motivation, being lied to, smoke, thunderstorms, himself (???)
Diagnoses: Anxiety, Astraphobia, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autophobia, Mania, Memory Loss, Schizophrenia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Treatments: Will talk to Dark about it. Medication, therapy, or both.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Dark paused for a while after reading the paper.
“You’re actually serious,” they said, staring at the doctor.
“Dead,” he crossed his arms. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed what’s been going on with Wilford lately. He’s been very trigger happy this past year.”
“He’s always trigger happy,” Dark said. “He just needs a reminder every once in a while to stay out of trouble.”
“He almost shot Captain Magnum over choosing a song for Yancy’s karaoke party!” Iplier exclaimed, but trying to keep his voice down.
“And?” Dark asked. “Magnum is a pirate, he’s been through worse. He lost his legs for crying out loud.”
“He shot multiple guests on his show!”
“He didn’t mean any of it. It was an accident every time.”
“He almost killed our creator!”
“Mark insulted him, he deserved it.” Dark almost sneered by saying Mark’s name, even though they knew it wasn’t the right Mark… probably.
“He ignores his problems and blows those stupid Bubbles™ everywhere!”
“Wilford needs a good distraction. Besides, he said those things solve all of life’s problems, why stop him?”
“Because-!” Iplier tried not to raise his voice. Instead, he tugged at his head mirror. “Why do you always have to defend him when there are clear issues?”
“Because Wilford has no idea what he’s doing,” Dark said, plain and simple. “He told me so. I see an innocence in that, so it’s justified, right?”
The doctor stuttered. “I- you- he- no! No, it’s not!”
Dark’s eyes narrowed, and Iplier stood up from his seat.
“Dark, I know that you have the best intentions with him,” he said. “But you need to recognize that there are so many things wrong with Wilford! He’s traumatized for God’s sake!”
“Wilford is fine,” Dark said through gritted teeth.
“Have you read the paper?!” Iplier asked loudly. “It’s right in front of you!”
Dark didn’t bother to look down at the paper in front of them. “I don’t care what a piece of paper says about Will.”
“I wrote it all myself,” Iplier said, pointing an accusing finger. “Papers don’t write themselves down.”
“He is innocent,” Dark almost growled under their breath. “You’re lying.”
“Dark, I’m a professional!” Iplier exclaimed. “I notice when somebody is acting unnatural, and Wilford is anything but natural!”
Dark tried not to clench their fists. “He is when he’s with me. He tells me anything and everything. Wilford is happy.”
“I’m not stupid, Dark,” Iplier said. “I see the way you are with him, and it’s clear that you really want him to be safe. If you really care about him, why don’t you just do something about it?”
Dark breathed in. They wanted to scream. They wanted to punch a hole through the wall. Instead, they kept their voice calm and steady.
“I’m doing what I’m doing because I know him the most,” they said. “I’ve already done so much to make sure that Wilford is alright. He’s too far gone to even try to get professional help, even from someone like you. It’s the best I can do right now.”
Iplier’s shoulders slumped. He looked like he was at a loss for words, as if Dark had won this argument. The corner of Dark’s lips crept up to make a smile, but they paused as the doctor opened his mouth. Dark quickly interrupted.
“If you’re going to suggest we’ll go ‘Of Mice and Men’ on him, that for sure is not going to work. Wilford is far too clever to fall for something like that.”
Iplier froze, with his mouth agape. “I wasn’t going to suggest that at all.”
“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Dark rested their chin on their hand, looking down at the table. “He’ll always get back up.”
The doctor looked like he was at a loss for words again until he glanced to the desk at the other side of the room. Wilford’s gun resided there, right next to the TV remote. Iplier froze, having no idea if it was there the whole time he and Dark were talking.
“Wilford left his gun here,” he said.
“I know,” Dark replied with their eyes closed. “I’ll give it to him once I see him.”
Iplier turned to them. “He killed people with that thing.”
“I know,” Dark repeated, quietly. “To him, it doesn’t matter. He’ll forget anyway.”
“Then give him more reminders,” Iplier said, sitting back down in his seat.
Dark kept a glaring look at the doctor. “What?”
“Give him more reminders,” he repeated. “Make sure he does something he’s supposed to do; drink water, take vitamins, when it’s time to eat, having time away from weapons, going outside, all that…”
“Wilford is not a child,” Dark said, almost bitterly.
Iplier defensively put up a hand. “I know that, but just… give him some kind of schedule. At least something to give Wilford something that affects him mentally in a healthy way. Teach him grounding, suggest he goes to therapy…”
“He already goes to the Host for that,” Dark said matter-of-factly.
“The Host isn’t a therapist,” Iplier replied. “He’s a radio host, it’s literally in his name. He knows a thing or two about mental health, but he’s not a professional.”
He shook his head to quickly change the subject. “Look, the point is, just give him a new routine so he can have something to look forward to. Something that’s positive, and won’t be so dangerous. It can’t be that bad for him.”
Dark exhaled slowly, as if releasing an angry ghost from their nostrils. “Alright… I don’t like it, but you may be right.”
They eyed at the gun across the room.
“Thank you very much, Dark,” Iplier said, standing up from his seat. “I know this isn’t a very fun topic for you, but I just wanted to address some concerns.”
Dark silently pursed their lips. “You’re welcome.”
The doctor nodded goodbye with a small smile, and nudged the paper closer to Dark before he turned to leave the room.
Dark sat still in their seat, staring at the TV screen. Then the gun. Then the paper.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Diagnoses: Anxiety, Astraphobia, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autophobia, Mania, Memory Loss, Schizophrenia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Dark’s mind was blank as they read the list of diagnoses over and over and over again. Mental health issues, Wilford has always had them. His brain just works differently because of them. Not better, but different. Dark was pretty sure that Wilford would be aware that his problems would be a bigger deal to other people than to himself.
Wilford would get in trouble, apologize or dismiss the problem, and go on about his day. None of it would really be a big deal, right? It was just something that happened, just another thing to be anxious about. Wilford was only human, after all, and humans make mistakes…
Still, it’s not a bad idea to have some type of safe routine, for Wilford, and for everybody. It can’t hurt to try. They’re just rules, like no shooting indoors. It’s not even a real punishment; it’s just grounding. It doesn’t have to be so bad.
Dark pondered to themselves… There was that one ukulele that Wilford kept begging for that one time he and Dark went on a walk around the town. Now that Dark thought about it, they could get that for Wilford the next time they go out. It’s something that Wilford wanted. It’s a positive thing to look forward to, at least.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
SO! I wrote this a few weeks ago, and I wanted to make a series with this, but then I quickly lost motivation and decided to keep this as a oneshot. This is a new headcanon of mine where Dark and Dr. Iplier befriend each other by keeping Wilford in check in terms of his mental health.
I hope you enjoyed reading this! Reblogs and likes are always appreciated! 💗
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obey Me!: Human and Demon hearts!
A/N: I've been working on a Fanfic for Obey me with a close friend of mine. It takes place after the game, and possibly in a AU. Each of my chapters are about 10 pages long, so I have split them up into sections for everyone! Please enjoy!
Chapter one: The Arrivals (1/2)
Word Count: 1,530
Rating: 18+
The world is an ever changing place. Some make a fair living, and others struggle with the flex and flow of life. Yet there were still opportunities left for two young girls looking for respite from their previous lives. Noelle, a short pudgy, artistic type who was the one to suggest moving to the countryside. Bella, Noelle’s long term friend who was searching for work, had agreed due to the open jobs in the town they had settled into. Even with their seemingly bright future, the skies above their trailer grew darker by the minute. It seemed almost unnatural to them. Noelle had paused outside while helping unpack boxes into the house. She looked up at the sky to stare at the shifting clouds, and shuddered when she caught a glimpse of lightning whip through the clouds.
“I know we're nowhere close to tornado alley out here, but I swear if these creepy clouds mean there's a storm coming, I'm not going to be happy...”
Bella laughed and stole the boxes from her hands, taking what was left of the packages.
“If you're that scared don't stand outside, silly!”
Soon enough the air was thick with humidity, and the girls made their way inside. Noelle began stretching as Bella took a seat on a stray bean bag chair and began to complain.
“I don't know what's gonna suck more. Unpacking, or trying to find our beds. I'm so tired...”
“I'm tired too. We did bring a blow up mattress. I can get that going, and one of us can hoard the bean bags...” Noelle responded with a flat tone.
“You want to sleep on the bean bags don't you?” Bella playfully accused.
Noelle gave no verbal response, and opted for just nodding as she rummaged through the boxes for the air pump and mattress.
Later on in the evening they unpacked most of the Tupperware, ate their dinner, and unfolded their bedding; Creating a small space for temporary living. In the corner of boxes they had placed a kindle that was playing a news station. Noelle had given a second shudder as the Anchor explained that the dark purple clouds was just a rare occurrence, only lasting a few days. Even when pronounced that the possible storm wasn't deadly, the atmosphere felt like it was about to crack. Furthering the girl's concerns.
Bella had crawled out of her makeshift bed, and found a box labeled “Bella's Stuffed Animalz”. The 'Z' was scrawled over the 'S' in an attempt of a joke done by her current roommate. Dumping out the contents, an armful of cow plushies, and a realistic seal squishy covered her bed. Tossing the seal towards Noelle's way she stroke up conversation about their new life. The longer they chatted, the more they yawned until finally both girls had fallen asleep. Unaware of what the next few days will bring.
Morning came, and so did the sun, but instead of golden rays, the previous forecast had turned the world around then into a filter of purples and blues. The same news station played in the background as the girls continued their adventure in unpacking boxes. After the morning had dragged on, a break was in order. It was a new day, and most of the boxes had dispersed. A sign of their hard work. Hard work that Noelle decided was to be rewarded with a trip to the nearby town. Begrudgingly Bella had agreed, and the two made their way down the road. The Town itself was nothing special. A straight way of small stores, and a handful of side roads that probably lead to other houses. Two Stomachs growled at the sight of a Pizza shop where they chose to spend lunch before they had gone window shopping.
Both the girls were fairly happy with the lack of social introductions, and the short walks to the stores were even better. It was a slow pace that they both ached for after years of past hardships and day to day life. A final destination came about, but only by the sheer magnetic allure the oddity shop had given them. The Purple banner had matched the sky above them, though the clouds seemed as if they were soon about to part. A bell jingled against the door as they walked in. Both in awe that such a store would exist in this kind of town.
The shop was a mix of herbs, Wicca and witch tools, and various other hand crafted items that seemed to sparkle on their own. The further the girls went in, the more drawn to the corner of the store they became. Very quickly they had walked up to a bland bulletin board that was littered in 'Help Wanted' and theater ads. Yet among all the paper clutter, they had both reached out to a paper advertising for a transfer program. The touching of their hands had broken them out of their trace, and they looked at each other, then back to the paper to examine it more.
The ad seemed like it was hung up a millennium ago. Stains and aged finger oils had caused the paper to look ill compared to the others. Yet the black ink border and description seemed fresh, and also most modern.
“Where does one's soul inlay in the human body? The Heart? The Mind? Or the Nature of a human's will and desire for knowledge. Come forth to the Royal Academy of Diavolo! Help Create A Peaceful Change with the Human Soul!
No School-Age-Or Degree Necessary”
Noelle chuckled as she shook her head.
“This sounds more like a cult than an Academy. ‘Cause Diavolo sounds like a cult god...”
As if on cue a creaky old voice spoke from behind them.
“So close, but no dice!”
Chills ran down the girls spine as a hunched over, yet tall elderly woman had seemingly mocked them. A blush ran across Noelle's face, and Bella had shifted from discomfort.
“Oh please, don't get so nervous. I'm only playing around. That ad you read is for a very well and respected school, that not many people get in. Well... half because not many people are interested.”
Noelle had shaken off her nerves and read the ad again, taking an application form from the packet. She considered it, and then took a second one.
“there's no number to call...”
“The RAD is a bit old fashioned, but that's precisely why they're good at what they do. Yet they somehow manage to barely hit the mark for modern day technology. I know the headmaster personally, and I tell you, if you want the experience of a lifetime, I'd risk filling one of those out.”
The Woman didn't leave. She seemed to be waiting for an answer. Only when the girls told her they'd think about it, did they get to exit the shop, and walk away from the old ladies tracking eyes. To say they got back to their small home as quickly as possible was an understatement.
After they made a beeline to the door, Bella had turned around and locked it. Giving the girls a feeling of satisfactory safety. The house was calm for once, and though the sky above had finally started clearing up Noelle's hand seemed to twitch and itch towards the papers in her bag.
“I... I kind of want to fill one out... Do you?”
“No, not really. You said it yourself, it sounds like a cult...”
“I just looked it up, and the only thing I'm finding out is that Diavolo means Devil...”
It was a false, calm, silence and both of their tangled up nerves returned as they laughed. Only to try and relieve stress. Bella shook her head and took one of the applications, and scoffed.
“I'll fill it out, but it's not like we're going to actually send them. There's not even a return address on these.”
Noelle read her paper over and over again. Bella was right. It was a basic form with Name, Number, past Achievements, and a whole other list of personality questions. The Academy symbol wasn't even on it. It came down as a simple prank to them. That woman might just be trying to scare them off. Maybe the town had a hallmark type of thing against newcomers? It didn't matter. No, now they had begun filling out the papers as a joke. They took the questions seriously. Noelle wanted to mock “Diavolo” since he'd never receive those papers. And he'd never get to read them. Soon after finishing the applications, they had thrown them out after tearing them up, and reminisced about the achievements written on the papers. Poking fun of their personality assessments telling them both that they were likely candidates.
Dusk had taken over the day, and the clouds had finally cleared. Signaling another day has gone by, and sleep once again took over the household. Leaving behind a finished home, and two cautious sleepers.
#obey me: human and demon hearts#Obey me#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me fanfic#obey me oc#obey me shall we date
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
dong sicheng x reader, ft, taeyong
“Your brain works like a computer, like clockwork. Yet you just can’t think straight because you’re thinking of her, right?”
description. I watched in pain as my best friend whom I liked for ages become delusional of my feelings and fall in love with another girl. I never told my feelings for him, and I never will. Little did I know that he felt the same as well. The feelings that took him so long to realise, now with hope that it wouldn’t be too late.
genre. aNgsT, fluff, friends au, unrequited love au
warnings. sad but also not a sad ending. depends how you look at it cudndjdn
word count. 9.2k~
a/n. do yall ever feel emo and suddenly want to write a sad ff? yes this is one of those times. i actually never wrote a ff where it was eXtrEmElY sad but oh wells let’s put you on an emotional roller coaster ride while you read this HAHA enjoy!
Dong Sicheng. Winwin as his nickname and what everyone, teachers and students, call him by. He’s smart, kind, sweet, and appearance wise you can never say no to that beautiful face. He’s an all rounder perfect student that everyone adores and admires. He’s extremely friendly, being able to socialise with everyone in the hallways right off the bat. I can confirm in my three years of high school that no one has never disliked him before.
The only thing that everyone dislike though is the fact that I’m his best friend. The only one that calls him by his real name, the one that can get close to him in terms of physical touch, and just have him by my side almost all the time. I received hate for being his best friend since they think he deserves better. But at this point, I really couldn’t care less, opting to stay quiet and accept the harsh words thrown at me with zero care for the world.
Since those insults are given to me when I’m away from Winwin, I never told him about what happens outside of his sight since I didn’t want him to be concerned for me and have him worry over a small matter. Things like this in high school are what I consider childish, which is why I try my best to ignore it as much as possible.
“Here. Another box of cookies and perfume. Also, a ton of love letters.” I said lazily, tossing the bag of gifts to Winwin’s lap and taking the seat beside him with a groan. I hated it when girls asked me to pass their gifts to Winwin because they’re too shy to do it themselves. It’s not like I’m some delivery girl in charge of taking care of their gifts. But I got used to it. Not sure if that’s exactly a good thing or not.
“You can have the cookies.” Winwin took out the box of cookies and handed it over to me. I took it and scoffed in amusement. “The price for the ingredients to make regular cookies is way more cheaper than buying it from wherever she got this.” I inspected the box and the cookies inside, noticing how expensive it looked with the decorations.
Regardless, I opened the box and picked up a cookie to take a bite. “Okay well it tastes good.” I said in defeat. Winwin wasted no time to grab a cookie and try it, instantly humming dreamily. “Oh wow it’s actual good.” Winwin moaned out as he finishes the cookie in his mouth.
“Being the school’s most adored student couldn’t get any more better, huh?” I reached into the bag of gifts and took out a random letter, twirling it around in my hand as I observed the aesthetics of it.
Winwin huffed, leaning back into the seat. “It’s tiring. I’m only down for the free food. And perfumes.” Winwin takes out the perfume, which I could already tell from its packaging that it was an expensive one. He unboxes it and squirts once to smell the fragrance in the air. He shrugged and shook his head. “Expected better. I’ll just sell this.”
I chuckled at his reaction, sniffing the scent that was in the air and nodding in agreement. “By the way...” Winwin suddenly started. I noticed his change in behaviour. He’s acting all shy and somewhat embarrassed, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers and feet. I raised at eyebrow at his unexpected mood change.
“You know the new student that got transferred four months ago?” I clicked my tongue and nodded. “Haeun, right? What about her?” I asked, though I wasn’t fully concentrated on the conversation because I couldn’t stop shoving the cookies into my mouth and admiring it’s savoury taste.
“Would it be weird to say I like her?”
I froze in my spot, a cookie halfway into my mouth as I tilted my head up from the cookies to look at Winwin. Though he was looking down to his feet, I could tell he was smiling to himself like an idiot and blushing intensively.
I knew where this was going. And I didn’t like it. It hurts my heart, like a needle constantly jabbing into my heart as the question that Winwin asked resonates in my head. Not receiving a reply, Winwin called out to me, making me shake my head and blinking my eyes rapidly to snap myself out of my thoughts.
“Um well, how’s she like?” I asked hesitantly. Why was I dumb enough to ask this? I’ll only be hurting myself more with the answer Winwin was about to give.
“She’s a badass. She’s strong, and she knows how to stand up to the students that bully her. I admire her a lot because she’s fearless. The way she can even fight back to the teacher and actually having valid arguments. She’s not like anyone else here.”
Of course she isn’t. She not at all like me either. I took a deep breath, knowing I’ve done a great job at stabbing myself in the back as I lump filled my throat, once again unable to give a single reaction of sentence. “You okay? You seem worked up suddenly.” Winwin suddenly got closer and I quickly inched back.
I felt my body getting tensed up as my face gave a blank expression. I wasn’t sure what to feel. Anger, sadness, heart fluttering due to Winwin’s small action of getting close to my face. Maybe all three.
“You do remember what happened the other times you have liked a girl, right? You know they didn’t end well. I don’t see why you’re still trying.”
That, was the only excuse I could come up with to have Winwin not having any interest in other girls. Before high school, he’s liked plenty of girls. But they’ve all rejected him, causing him to come to me for comfort. It hurt my heart, seeing that I’m the one that has to watch him go through a heartbreak and being the hopeless romantic he was. It also pained me in a way that I couldn’t describe.
If only you were mine, you wouldn’t have gone through any of that.
“What if someone else liked you? What would you do?” Winwin tilted his head upwards with a finger on his chin for a moment as he stopped to think. He had an unreadable expression on his face, only making me wonder what he would reply.
“Depends on who.” Winwin simply replied.
“What if that someone is really close to you?” His forehead creased with raised brows, probably either curious as to why I’m asking such questions or trying to figure out where this conversation is heading.
“The only ones I’m close to are you and Yuta.” A few seconds later, Winwin gaped his mouth open and covered it with the palm of his hand, letting out a shocking gasp. “Is Yuta gay?!” Winwin burst out laughing crazily, smacking his thigh as he had a hand on his stomach.
I could only sit there with an unamused face. I glanced sideways and forced a smile. A simpered smile that would best hide what I truly felt. I rose from my seat with the box of cookies in hand. “I meant the other person, Dong Sicheng.” I looked straight into his eyes with a face of seriousness. Though I doubt Winwin understood what I meant by that.
Not being able to handle this any longer, I walked away, despite Winwin calling out my name multiple times. I walked till I hid behind a wall where it was out of Winwim’s sight, beginning to slide my back down the wall till I hit the ground, my eyes starting to get flooded with tears till they finally stream down my face. I brought my knees close to my chest with the box of cookis in between and hiding my face with my arms.
How long do I have to keep this up? How long do I have to wait till Winwin realises my feelings for him? All this time while he went through constant heartbreaks, I was the only one there for him. Me. I had to watch him cry days on end all because of a girl who doesn’t even mean much.
And now I have to watch him go through it again. But I can’t stop him. It’s his feelings. Despite my constant share of concerns for him, he never seemed to stop being the stupid one in love. Dong Sicheng was, and always will be, a hopeless romantic.
But in a way, I was as well. Not being able to let go of my feelings for him that has kept me tied down for so long. I liked him for years and I knew my love was more than what the girls he liked before could offer. If only he could just see that. But waiting for that moment slowly began to get tiring.
I wondered where Winwin has gone to as I laid on the living room couch with my phone held in the air showing Winwin’s contact on the screen. I contemplated on whether I should call him or not.
There have been days where Winwin would come back to our apartment late, but it’s either because he had family events (which happens quite often in Winwin’s case) or just an outing with Yuta. But I would have known the reason either way since he’d always update me whenever he went. It felt out of place to not know where he was and it made me a little worried.
As I was about to press on the call button, I heard the front door open. Lifting my head from the couch, I turned around and saw Winwin taking off his shoes and walking in. “Where the heck have you been, you dork?!” I shouted, throwing a pillow from under my head.
He got hit by it, resulting him to frown and let out a wince due to his overreacting nature. “Chill I just went out of Haeun, alright?” Winwin picked up the pillow from the ground and tossed it back to me.
I didn’t even bother asking why he went out with her. I didn’t want to hear about it either, knowing that my emotional feelings for him that I’ve tried to hide for so long will start to flare up. Regardless, Winwin ran over to me and pushed my legs off fhe couch to give him space to sit. I groaned at his act and sat up straight.
“Today was so fun! I went to the amusement park with Haeun and holy shit was she good at winning games but I wasn’t able to win any for her and I felt bad so we...”
As Winwin rambled on about his amazingly perfect night out with Haeun, I spaced out and could only think about what I have to deal with once Haeun leaves Winwin again. Though now I’m starting to doubt that because well, who wouldn’t want Winwin? He had a major glow up from elementary school to high school anyways.
But now my mind has wondered off to the possibility that I might actually lose Winwin once he gets together with her. And how the feelings that I’ve kept solely for him would go to waste and my times of waiting on him would mean nothing.
“Good that you had fun. I’ll go to bed now.” I said in monotoned manner when Winwin finally stopped talking.
“Oh um okay... goodnight. Sleep tight. Dream of me, alright?” He probably noticed my sudden change in attitude but didn’t bother asking, and instead tried to lighten the mood with a little joke.
“I always dream of you.” I mumbled under my breath as I walked away and entered my room.
Little did I know, my soft mumble wasn’t as soft as it seemed.
“Why did she sound serious when she said that?” Winwin asked himself as he sat there in silence. He started to think about her weird behaviour these days. Especially whenever he brought up about Haeun. Was there something wrong with talking about Haeun? Why did she look like all the energy was drained out of her whenever he spoke Haeun’s name?
Winwin’s deep thoughts got cut off when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took it out to see a notification from Haeun asking if they should go out more often. He didn’t bother to reply as his mind was only filled with his best friend, deeply concerned but also anxious.
“What am I feeling right now?”
Yuta and I decided to eat lunch together since Winwin’s chemistry teacher held his class back for a reason that he never specified.
Our conversation was going well till somehow our topic swerved into talking about Winwin.
“I heard Winwin’s going out with Haeun more often, and ditching you too.” Yuta suddenly mentioned, taking a sip of his lemon tea.
I suspired and nodded my head. “Yeah well, I’m not too happy about that.” I swirled my straw in my drink, getting mesmerised at the sight. “Of course you don’t. You like him.”
My eyes immediately shot up to Yuta’s, narrowing my eyes in an intimidating manner as I whispered, “Don’t mention it, please. It already hurts enough that it’s a fact.” I said, my eyes softening right after as I frowned.
“You still aren’t giving me a proper answer as to why you can’t tell him.” Yuta bobbed his shoulders, adjusting his blazer. “I told you time and time again.”
I groaned, covering my eyes with a hand. “He’s my best friend. You know how weird it’ll be if we have feelings for each other. Secondly, even if he does like me back, how will things turn out between us if we argue or something? It’s worse for you because you’re friends with the both of us.” I explained, making random hand gestures like you would do in a presentation.
“But still. It’s important to be friends before lovers. Better yet best friends to lovers. You’re basically saying that a male and female can’t be friends without one of them falling in love. Well. I mean you fell in love but-”
“But what, huh?”
Yuta let out a deep sigh before leaning in, resting his chin on his hands with his fingers interlocked together. “But that doesn’t explain you and me. We’re friends but we’ve never fell in love.” Yuta gave a cheeky smile. I growled and smacked his forehead, hard. “What it’s the truth! Anyways, if you aren’t going to anything about Sicheng, I will.”
As soon as he said those words, I wasted no time to loom over the table to grab him by the collar. “Do anything, and you’ll get brutally killed.”
Yuta simpered, knowing he fucked up as he laughed in fear. “W-with what?” Yuta asked hesitantly. I slowly picked up the fork from my tray and raising it beside my head.
“This fork.” This time, Yuta laughed hysterically, removing my hand away from his collar and throwing me back down to me seat. I let out a huff, slamming the fork back on the plate. “Which body part do you want to hit with a fork, sweetie?” Yuta teased.
I threw him a sharp glare with a line appearing between my brows. “I’ll carve out your eyeballs first so you’ll never see the light of day.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, finding Yuta shaking in fear as he waved his hands in the air in defense. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up. Jeez...”
“I just want him to realise my feelings himself. Have you seen what he’s gone through? I have to deal with his stupid feelings while I have to bear the fact that he won’t see me as anything more than a best friend. His delusional ass that I can’t stop falling for...” I continued.
“I’m more stupid in this situation than him if we’re going to be honest.”
Later that day, Yuta and I invited Winwin to go out and have dinner. We were waiting in front of the restaurant only to be greeted with Winwin and a somewhat unwanted guest.
“Oh! Haha it’s Haeun...” Yuta waved a hand to her. She greeted him back with a gentle smile that could possibly mesmerised anyone if she wanted to. Yuta took a quick glance at me. I was pretty sure we were both thinking the same thing. About how I’m not liking the fact that she’s here with Winwin. He brought his hand to my back and rubbed it gently as a sign of comfort.
Don’t get me wrong. I hold no hatred or grudge towards her. It’s just that I didn’t want to see Winwin with another girl. Clearly, I was jealous. I was just too weary of Winwin’s feelings and mine to own up to it.
“Let’s go in then?” She asked excitedly, looking up to Winwin as she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. Winwin smiled back and patted her on the head. I was already not liking how physically close they were.
Little actions like patting the head, hugging, ruffling the hair. Those were all actions that only Winwin has ever done to me. He wouldn’t even be this close to the girls that he used to like. Seeing that he’s now becoming more open, it made me disappointed a lot more than it should due to the deep stupid meaning I hold of the little things he does.
Our conversations while we were eating were quite general. Most questions were about Haeun and getting to know her better. Well, more specifically it was Yuta since I’m pretty sure Winwin already knew a lot about her. As for me, I didn’t bother.
“You should try this. It’s delicious.” Haeun suddenly said, picking up a drumstick of the chicken that was just served to us and bringing it to Winwin’s mouth. Haeun placed a finger in Winwin’s chin to bring his head closer. With Winwin opening his mouth widely, Haeun feeds him with the most brightest smile.
“You’re so cute.” I heard Winwin whisper as he leaned down to Haeun’s ear. She giggled with glee and nudged him in the shoulder. It was obvious that she was liking it. Her blushing couldn’t get any more serious.
He hummed in satisfaction as he chewed on the chicken. “You should try it, too.” Winwin said, passing me a drumstick and putting it on my plate. I forced a smile, which turned out to me only giving a half-smile due to my effort of trying to hide my feelings slowly becoming drained.
Seeing how Yuta kept stealing glances at me, I could only assume that he knew what I was feeling when he suddenly said, “Actually it seems like she’s getting tired. I’ll see her off. You guys have fun.” Yuta swung an arm around my shoulder as the two of us stood up and grabbed our belongings before heading out and leaving the two to hang out by themselves.
“You didn’t have to do that...” I whispered, looking into my bag and checking if I left anything behind. Yuta shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I had to. It was hard to watch you die inside while they were being all lovey-dovey.” Yuta replied.
“Anyways, can you go home yourself?” I gaped my mouth and scoffed, glancing sideway before looking up to him with a raised brow. “You brought me out here but you can’t be a gentleman and send me home!?” I hissed.
“The food inside was actually good and I’m willing to finish whatever’s on my plate!” Yuta retorted with a cute pout as a way to persuade me to follow his way. With the unamused face I gave him, he huffed and ran a hand through his hair.
As though a lightbulb was suddenly lif above his head, he snapped his fingers and shouted, “Ahah!” making me flinch back at the sudden noise. “I’ll text Taeyong to drive you home on his motorbike.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, but shrugged in the end as I admitted it was a good idea. “Yeah sure. I find him cute.” I said plainly, which somehow earned me a weird look from Yuta.
“You called him cute?” Yuta asked in a way that told me that he was surprised. I nodded my head slowly, not sure about why he reacted that way but I was quick to figure it out. “Don’t be an idiot and assume I like him. Everyone finds him cute, okay? It’s like how fangirls call their idols cute all the time. It means nothing.” I said with a sigh.
Yuta’s surprised face slowly turned into a sinister one as his mouth formed a wide smirk. “Hey. Honestly speaking, if you can’t have Winwin, You should try Taeyong. He’s a good catch.” Yuta winked at me before looking down to this phone and texting Taeyong.
I smacked him in the arm, making him wince in pain but recovered in no time due to his endurace of me beating him up almost all the time. “You think my three years of affection for Winwin will just magically go away if I liked him? Don’t be ridiculous, will you?” I let out a ‘tsk’ as I threw him a death glare.
“You never know, sweetie.” Yuta breathed out, putting his phone away and getting close to me. “He’s coming in ten minutes so I’ll go now, okay? Text me when you get home.” Yuta gave a heartwarming smile as he reached both his hands out to rub my shoulders before bidding his last goodbye and going back in.
I scratched my head as I sat down at one of the benches near the entrance while I waited for Taeyong. I soon saw the motorbike that looked familiar since it was always parked at the parking lot at school, knowing it was him.
Taeyong stopped in front of me and lifted the shield of his helmet, revealing his face. He stepped down from his bike and headed to the trunk to take out a spare helmet. I walked up to him with a soft smile.
“Thanks for wanting to send me home. I would’ve gone myself.” I said as I took the helmet that Taeyong handed out to me. “It’s fine. I was pretty free and wanted to go out for a bit.” Taeyong smiled back with a light shrug.
“By the way...” I let out while adjusting my helmet. “Hm?” Taeyong asked.
“Can you take me to an ice cream shop? Any will do. I just need to eat something sweet right now.”
Taeyong got on his back and tapped the seat behind him to signal me to get on as he started up his motorbike. “Sure. I have a place in mind.”
I hopped on as I thought we were about to head off, Taeyong turned his head back to look at me. “You should place your hands on my shoulder. If it’s uncomfortable for you, just hold onto the handles beside you. Just... make sure you have something to grip on.”
I looked down to one of my sides to find the handle that Taeyong mentioned but there’s wasn’t any. I didn’t bother asking and made the quick decision if placing my hands on his shoulders to not keep him waiting. He finally puts down the shield of his helmet as we drove off.
Taeyong ended up taking me to an ice cream shop that was opened for twenty four hours. Which I was thankful for since it meant that there’s an ice cream shop I could go to at four in the morning in case I was in my feels one night.
I ordered two scoops of cookie dough while Taeyong ordered three scoops of cookies and cream. We had to sit at the roadside since the shop didn’t provide anywhere to sit. But I was fully fine with it since I wanted to feel the night air as well as look at the night sky.
We both ate in silence till I fed myself a bite and stuck my spoon into the ice cream, looking up to the sky and closing my eyes for moment.
“Are you on your period, perhaps?” Taeyong suddenly asked. I opened my eyes and tilted my head back down to look at him, shaking my head. “Why’d you think that?”
“I know that most girls have cravings that kick in at random times of the day during their periods. I also know girls crave sweet things too.” I chuckled at his response, nodding my head in agreement. “You’re right about the craving thing. But I’m not on my period.”
I paused for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “It’s more of eating something sweet to wash down all the bitter feelings that build up in my throat.” I whispered, grabbing my spoon to take another bite.
Taeyong clicked his tongue and nodded his head slowly. “Do you mind me asking why? I-If it’s too personal you don’t have to-“
“What would you do if you liked a girl who’s your best friend for three years but she ended up liking someone else?” I cut him off, tilting my head to the side.
Taeyong looked up to stop and think. “I’ll probably do something to lose my feelings for her. I wouldn’t want to make myself suffer by keeping my feelings depite me knowing she won’t except it.”
“You know like move on. If I liked a girl for three years, I’ll probably take a long time to let go but maybe with the help of meeting new people and distancing myself away from her, I’ll eventually forget about her.” Taeyong added.
As I listened to his advice, I understood what he meant. Why do I burden myself with such feelings? It’s like I’ve been trapped in a cage due to the unrequited love I have for Winwin. Why make myself suffer any longer?
“That’s true... I probably should- I-I mean a friend asked me- Oh who am I kidding I’m asking you this for my sake.” I let out a sigh in defeat, stabbing my spoon into the ice cream before aggressively taking another bite.
“Let’s play some music. It’ll lighten the mood up a little.” Taeyong said with a warm smile, noticing my somber aura and wanting to do something about it.
He opened his phone as he scrolled through his playlist to find a song. “I really like this song so if I suddenly burst out dancing stupidly, don’t make fun of me.” I chuckled before nodding my head, eagerly as I was curious about the song he wanted to play. “I’m not judgy I promise.”
While the spoon that was filled with ice cream was being brough up to my lips, the song started playing and I quickly took a bite before swallong and gaping my mouth open as I instantly recognised the intro.
“Roses by Finn Askew?!” I asked with excitement. Taeyong nodded his head happily as he began to sing the lyrics, bringing his hands up and vibing to the music.
I laughed as I watched him sing and have fun. I decided to let go and sing as well, grooving my body as I finished my last spoon of ice cream.
Throughout the whole song, the two of us didn’t stop dancing in our seats. I constantly laughed at the weird movements and actions he did while we nodded our heads to the soothing music that we both loved.
Taeyong’s singing talent also shined through as he sang the song. I was definitely impressed by how much of a good singer he was. “I didn’t know you could sing like that, Taeyong.” I complimented as another song began to play in the background.
“It’s just a hidden talent most people don’t know. But I’m more to rapping.” Taeyong said with a shrug, placing his now empty cup beside him.
“Actually you’re one of the few people that know I rap.” Taeyong added.
I giggled in response. “I’m honoured to be one of the lucky few. Send me an audio of you rapping sometime. I’d love to hear it.” Taeyong chuckled lowly.
I quicly glance at my phone to check the time. I realised it was getting late and that I shouldn’t be out any longer. I looked at Taeyong, wanting to ask if he could take me home.
He turned to me and gave me a smile. A smile that I was suddenly to drawn into. The way his eyes formed a thin line as his lips curled up. He looked perfect and could make anyone swoon. He was cute.
“I know it’s getting late but can we just stay here a little while longer? I’m trying to savour this atmosphere.” I whispered.
Taeyong nodded and handed me his phone out of the blue. I raised an eyebrow at his sudden action. “Play any song you want. We can stay here as long as you want to.” Taeyong said in a gentle voice.
With that, I spent at least a few hours just sitting at the roadside with Taeyong as I swayed my head to peaceful songs that fit the mood. Taeyong was kind enough to let me play whatever song I liked even though I know there’s a few he wouldn’t know. Surprisingly, Taeyong and I had the same taste in music, which made us talk sbout our favourite artists etc.
I realised how quickly I got to know Taeyong. In a matter of a few hours, it felt like I instantly clicksd with him and I somehow felt as though I’ve known him for a long time. This feeling with Taeyong was refreshing and new. I liked it without a doubt.
Once we decided it was actually getting late, we called it a nighy and have Taeyong drive me home. When we arrived at my apartment, I got off and took off the helmet, passing it to Taeyong as he got off his motorbike as well to put the helmet back in the trunk.
“It was nice hanging out with you. I actually had fun for the first time in a long time.” I said after Taeyong closed the lid of the trunk and turned to me.
“Just call me if you need more ice cream.” Taeyong winked playfully. I took my phone out for him to put his number in. Once that was done, I stood in front of Taeyong, wanting to wait for him to drive off but he didn’t seem to move, leaning back against the motorbike.
“Aren’t you going to go?” I asked.
“I’m waiting for you to head inside so I know you got home safely.” Taeyong mentioned casually.
I chuckled and shook my head, nodding before making my way to the entrance. I turned around and flashed him one last smile and a small wave before heading in.
“Oi! Why the fuck are you home so late?! Did you know how worried I was?! Yuta told me Taeyong was going to send you home!” Damn, I just had to come home with Winwin shouting at me.
“I went out with him for a bit! And can you shut up it’s late at night and you’ll wake up the neighbours.”
I made my way to my room only to have Winwin following behind me and entering as well. “You shouldn’t be staying out late with a guy you barely know. Who knows what could happen to you?”
I took out my belongings from my sling bag and hung it behind my door, scoffing loudly.
“Oh so now you’re worrying? I bet you were out with Haeun and came home late as well.” I fought back.
“I came home earlier than you.”
“Taeyong is Yuta’s friend. And I do know him. So shut it and get out of my face. I’m tired.” I lashed out, pushing Winwin out of my room and slamming the door shut.
I plopped myself onto my bed as I took in the comfort of laying down on the most comfortable space I’ll ever know.
As I played with my phone, I suddenly got a text from an unknown number.
Unknown number: hey it’s Taeyong. you dont have to reply since i bet you’ll be sleeping by now but hope you made it home safely.
I let out an “Ah...” now knowing this was Taeyong’s number and saving it into my contacts.
Y/n: oMg chIlL i got home just fine thanks to you. hope you made it home safe as well
the ice cream man: i did, dont worry. i hope i got to get rid of any bitter feelings you had. goodnight :)
I left him on seen as I placed my phone screen down beside me and looked up the ceiling.
The night I spent with Taeyong somehow felt, magical. Like Cinderella at the ball. I had a lot of fun with him and I was able to let myself be free. Surprisingly, Winwin wasn’t on my mind for a second while I was with Taeyong. I only wished to continue being Cinderella for more than one night as I craved to hang out with Taeyong.
But also, the advice that Taeyong gave me continuously resonated in my head.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let go after all.
On the very same night, Winwin had to face his feelings as well.
“What’s your real reason for going out with Haeun?” Yuta asked as he walked to the living room where Winwin was at and taking a seat beside him. Winwin took a sip of water from the cups that Yuta brought from the kitchen. “Because I like her.”
“Now’s not the time to fuck with me, Winwin. I know it’s something else.”
Winwin exhaled sharply and fighting back with a, “What else is there? I like Haeun, so I asked her out.” Yuta scoffed and slammed his cup down on the table, his eyes narrowed down to Winwin.
“How long are you going to keep this up? What are you trying to do? Hide your feelings? Use Haeun to distract yourself from her? How low can you get?”
Winwin took in a deep breath and rubbed one hand down his face in frustration. “I told you. I like her as a friend.”
“No.” Yuta replied instantly with a stern tone. “You think I don’t know you? You don’t think I see you staring at her during class? Or that one time where you ranted to me about how she went out with a group of guys from our class.” Yuta got closer to Winwin and he wasn’t fazed at all, determined to maintain this eyecontact that was filled to the brim with tension.
“So? It’s because I care for her. Are friends not suppose to do that?” Winwin retorted back, leaning in as he bored his eyes into Yuta’s.
“She’s right. You really are delusional. I don’t know why I bothered trying.” Yuta downed the rest of his drink and stood up, placing the cup on the table. “Well, she told me I should just make you realise it yourself.” Yuta bent down to meet Winwin’s eye level.
“And you better pray that by the time you do, it won’t be too late.”
With that, Yuta grabbed his belongings and headed to the door, exiting and slamming the door shut. Winwin blinked his eyes a few times and stared at the door.
To be honest, Winwin didn’t understand what just happened. A lot of questions popped up in his mind after Yuta left. What did he meant by delusional? What was he delusional about? What did he have to realise for himself? And what did she have to do with all this?
The longer he sat there in deep thought with analysing everything that Yuta said, Yuta was right in some way. The fact that he gets concerned for her with whatever action she did, but ended up not doing anything about it. He stared at her in class to make sure she wouldn’t fall asleep. He was overprotective about her being around guys because he didn’t want guy to be with her but himself and Yuta. The problem is, why did Yuta talked to him about it as if it was something else? Isn’t this what you do with your friends?
Winwin’s eyes immediately darted back to the front door where he heard the shuffling of footsteps coming. He knew it was her. The moment she opened the door, one last questioned surfaced in his mind.
“What’s too late?”
Little by little, one ice cream date at a time, I began to get a lot more closer to Taeyong. He never lets down an ice cream date and everytime I was with him, he gave me a place where I could go away from my sufferings of my complex love situation. It was as if he gave me a way to escape. Just by being with him, I felt that I didn’t need to suffer.
Our ice cream dates evolved into doing other things like exploring the city, or trying out restaurants we’ve never been to before. To be honest, I would do anything if it meant being with Taeyong. He really was like my very own escape world, where I could run away from the only problem I’m currently facing. Which was Winwin.
Since our exams were coming up, our dates naturally became centered around studying. Today was no different, going to the study cafe that we’ve been to a couple of times.
We decided to sit at the corner of the cafe so that we’ll be able to concentrate better. Me being the relatively smarter one, I had to tutor Taeyong. It was a good thing that he wasn’t one to slack on his studies. He’s avarage in terms of academics but he was willing to try and get better. It made it easy for me to tutor him since he would try his best to understand and stay attentive.
Though, I couldn’t help but notice him stealing quick glances of me whenever I wasn’t looking at him. Does he perhaps like me or something?
“I want coffee.” Taeyong groaned out, pouting cutely in front of me as he desperately asked for a break. I chuckled at his adorable nature and ruffled his hair. “A fifteen minute break, alright? I’ll buy you coffee.”
I was about to stand up from my seat when Taeyong gripped onto my wrist and sat me back down. “I’ll do it myself. Do you want your favourite drink?” I smiled and nodded my head eagerly.
Taeyong rose from his seat. Before he walked off, he bent down and placed a quick peck on my cheek and ran off in a matter of seconds. Taeyong turned around and flashed his cheeky playful smile with mouthing, “That was intentional.”
I giggled and waved a hand in the air, signalling him to turn to the cashier who was waiting for him to order. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel something after that small kiss.
Over time as our friendship grew, Taeyong became more affectionate towards me. He was a natural at it. Without me knowing, he ended up holding hands and giving each other kisses on the cheek of forehead. It made my heart race every time and he would tease me whenever I blushed. Of course I did the same to him.
A little while later he came back with the drinks, placing them on the table before taking his seat next to me.
We resumed studying till I heard the bell above the door rang, signalling that someone has came in. I didn’t really care about it as the music from Taeyong’s phone played on one side of the earpiece that I wore was loud. I then however heard a very familiar voice.
Looking up, I saw Winwin and Haeun standing by the counter to order. With creases formed on my forehead with eyes that were glued to the two of them, Taeyong noticed my expression and looked at where my gaze was at. “I’m assuming that’s the guy you like for three years?” I nodded with a defeated sigh.
“We can go if you want. I’m afraid it’ll distract you.” Taeyong whispered. Right as I was about to reply, Winwin and Haeun turned around with their drinks as they tried finding a seat. While Winwin’s eyes scanned through the area, he made eye contact with me, causing him to give a confused look until Haeun went up to kiss his cheek and urging him to sit at the spot she found for them.
I bowed my head to greet him while Winwin did the same. I turned back to Taeyong after that awkward encounter. “It’s fine. It’ll be a hassle for us to waste time to go somewhere else.” Taeyong shrugged and nodded his head, resuming to look at the question in front of him.
We were studying for quite some time and I started to feel my adrenaline to continue studying slowly disappearing. With my chin on the palm of my hand, I tried to close my eyes to let them rest for a moment while letting out a tired sigh. Suddenly, I felt Taeyong’s hand guiding my head to rest on his shoulder.
I moved my head around to try and find a comfortable position, which ended up with my head being buried in the crook of Taeyong’s neck. I sniffed the strong scent of his perfume that I oh so adore. “You always smell good.” I complimented.
Taeyong chuckled in response. “I’ll continue to smell good if it means that you’ll rest your head on me more.” I tilted my head up with my chin still resting on his shoulder as I looked up. Taeyong brought his head down to make eye contact with me, leaning in slowly and kissing my forehead ever so gently.
“Go sleep. You need some rest.” With a hand slowly snaking around my waist, I got comfortable with Taeyong’s embrace. Before I closed my eyes, I absentmindedly looked towards where Winwin was sitting. For some reason, he gave me a look of anger, with a tensed body and clenched fist on the table and eyes lit with fire. It disappeared almost instantly when Haeun called out to him, forcing him to look back at her with a wide grin.
What the fuck was she doing with Taeyong? When has she gotten so clingy with him? How are they that close in the span of a few months? Questions like these circled Winwin’s mind throughout the time he was at the study cafe with Haeun.
Oddly, he couldn’t get his eyes and mind off her and Taeyong. He observed their very move closely. He felt like raging every time Taeyong even placed a finger on her. You could imagine how Winwin felt when Taeyong had his arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder.
She said they were just friends. But Winwin couldn’t believe that claim at all. Friends are not so touchy like this, right? As much as he wanted to agree to that question, he couldn’t. Because that’s what he’s been doing with her as well. Being physically close while still being friends. He just never imagined she’d do it with someone else.
Winwin knew for a fact that what he was feeling was pure jealousy. It shocked him due to how mad he could get at this.
After his study session with Haeun, he went straight back home. Realising you weren’t there, he assumed you went out with Taeyong again. He rushed into his room and threw himself onto his bed, placing a pillow over his face and screaming into it.
Winwin threw the pillow beside him and huffed, looking up at the ceiling. Once again he was deep in thought as he stared at the ceiling. This time, he was fighting a war in his head as he tried his best not to admit his feelings. The pride he held to deny it. But he couldn’t hold on anymore. Allowing his wall to crumble down as he came face to face with his true feelings. He decided to call Yuta to ask for help.
The moment Yuta picked up the phone, Winwin said, “Okay you’re right. I can’t beat around the fucking bush anymore. I like her. I like her a lot. I denied my feelings for her because I didn’t want our friendship to be at risk. I only used Haeun to get over her but I can’t. She’s on my mind even though I’m with Haeun.”
It took awhile for him to hear an answer from the other end of the line, only silence and breathing could be heard till Yuta responded with a, “Tell her that once you get into college. Right now, she’s probably studying hard for the high school leaving examinations. It would be best to stay out of her way and focus on your studies.” With that, Yuta hung up.
Winwin was left with his thoughts, unable to sleep till three in the morning because all he could think about was her. Whatever Yuta said the other day now made sense. She’s liked him for so long but she never confessed. He realised how dumb and delusional he was to not see that someone liked him right under his nose but he didn’t know it, brushing it off like it meant nothing because he didn’t want to admit his feelings for her. Fuck his pride and delusional ass.
As the days of the exams are coming closer than ever, Winwin tried his best to stay focus and study to the best of his abilities. Though he still couldn’t get her off his mind. It wasn’t the main thing he thought about but it was always hidden in the folds of his thoughts. It sometimes made him malfunction a little as well.
“Sicheng are you serious?! This is basic shit I thought you know about this!” Yuta scolded as he tapped in pen on the table and pointed to the question that Winwin answered incorrectly. Yuta sighed and covered his eyes with a hand for a moment before turning to Winwin.
“You aren’t working right today. You good, bro?” Yuta asked with concern. Winwin frowned and ran a hand down his face. “Is it that bad?”
Yuta clicked his tongue and places his pen down, leaning against the table.
“You’re one of the smartest students. Your brain works like a computer, like clockwork. Yet you just can’t seem to think straight because you’re thinking of her, right?”
It took awhile for Winwin to answer before he nodded slowly and gulping. “I can’t do anytning about it now. I don’t want to disrupt her studies. It’s fucking killing me...” Winwin laid his head on the table and covered himself with his arms, earning a big smack in the back by Yuta that made him jolted back up.
“Let’s forget it for awhile. Stay focus. We need to get into college, alright? Come on, let’s get something to drink before continuing.”
A year later.
I finally made it through your high school leaving examination and got accepted into the college I signed up for. Surpringly, Taeyong made it as well. Despite us having different majors, we did share a common elective for History.
“Today’s class was fun.” I said sarcastically, waving my hands in the air lazily. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Very.” He commented.
Today we decided to stay back and hang out in the music studio where the music majors use to record their singing etc. Taeyong promised me to play me one of the new songs he wrote.
The studio was located on the first floor of the campus and it was near the entrance as well. Basically the window of the studio showed fhe streets and people could walk by and see whoever’s inside. Well, only if they bent because the window is half the size of a regular one due to the studio being a little lower than ground floor.
We chilled in there for awhile. With me laying on Taeyong’s lap while the two of us were on our phones. I got bored of reading the news on twitter so I turned off my put and looked out at Taeyong. “Play your song now!” I whined. He immediately placed his phone away and looked down on me.
“Okay, okay chill!” Taeyong shouted out, leaning in to kiss my forehead. I got off his lap and allowed him to set up to play his new song.
He got inside the recording booth and told me to sit down and wear the headphones. I followed his instructions, though I was confused when he told me to press a button that would play the song but I got around that.
“Can you hear me?” Taeyong asked, placing his mouth near the microphone in front of him. I nodded and gave him a thumbs up, proceeding to press the button that would start the song.
The first few beats of the song already got my hyped up as I began to nod my head to the music while looking at Taeyong while a bright smile. He smiled back before starting to rap. I was intrigued instantly and started vibing to his voice.
As the continued on with the song, I couldn’t help myself but stand up to dance. He saw me dancing and looked to me while he sang into the microphone, starting to move to the beat as well.
I laughed happily as I started to make weird movements which triggered Taeyong to fall off his rhythm a little and laugh, picking up right where he left off soon after.
Absentmindedly, I glanced sideways to the window and saw a pair of legs facing towards the window. Like I said, since the studio was a little lower than ground floor, the window only showed a small portion of the streets.
To see a pair of legs there was weird. Whoever it was, they stayed there for quite some time since I didn’t see them leave until Taeyong finished the song.
Taeyong took off the headphones he had on and got out of the recording booth. “So how was that?”
I immediately ran up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close and placing a warm peck on his lips. “Perfect as usual, Mister Lee Taeyong.” I ran a hand through his hair and giggled with glee.
Winwin’s POV.
I stood there as I heard her laugh. The unique signature laugh that I once used to hear everyday. The one that never failed to brighten my day no matter the situation. The familiarity of it brought me home, but at the same time it brought a different feeling. A hurtful one that made my heart ache. To know that the one that made her laugh wasn’t me.
I couldn’t stop regretting not telling her how I feel. I planned to tell her after the exams, but life moved too quickly for the two of us and we eventually went our separate ways. A year now has passed as I still held my feelings for her close to my heart. I understood how she felt now. Not being able to tell her how I feel for a whole year. How did she survive liking me with an additional two years.
I know I can’t have her back. She was able to let go of me and be together with someone that made her happy instead of the burden I made her go through. But at the very least, I hope to make her happy one last time before I disappear from her sight forever.
One night, I received a text from Winwin. Of course I still had his number because I didn’t see a reason to delete it. We naturally went our separate ways due to college and all. The text said to meet him at the big tree beside our high school. I found it odd. Considering how it was ten in the night. I figured maybe he needed someone to talk to in person.
“Sicheng!” I called out to him, waving my hand up in the air slightly. Winwin waved back as I took a seat next to him. “What’d you call me out here for? It’s pretty late as well.” I glanced at the time on my phone before looking to Winwin.
“I asked you to come because I have something to tell you.” Winwin said, looking down and fidgeting with his thumbs. I grew nervous as I didn’t know what to expect.
“Um... What is it?” I asked hesitantly, tilting my head slightly to look at his face that he hid by looking down.
After a moment of silence, he finally cleared his throat as looked up, staring deep into my eyes.
“I liked you.” He whispered.
Did I hear that correctly? I couldn’t have, right?
“I really did. I liked you.” Winwin repeated himself when he realised he didn’t get a reponse.
I gulped as I could only stare back in disbelief. The words I wanted to hear for years. Why did I feel different from the way I expected to react from it.
I sighed, licking my bottom lip. “It’s been so long, Sicheng. Saying it now... I don’t feel anything from it anymore.” I replied reluctantly.
“I know. I just felt the need to tell you. You’re happy with Taeyong. I understand that.”
Another moment of silence (longer silence this time) filled the air. The two of us looked up into the sky, getting lost in its darkness.
“Just wanted you to know that I did like you back in high school. I was just dumb to realise it myself.” Winwin added on with a soft laugh. The hurtful kind of laugh.
I punched him lightly in the arm, making him look at me with a surprised face. “You really were.” I whispered.
“I actually got a dance gig at America.”
I widened my eyes as my mouth gaped open slightly. “Really?!” I gasped. He nodded.
“It also meant that I’m moving to America in a few days.” Winwin glanced sideway before sighing.
I placed a hand on his back, rubbing it up and down slowly. “You’ll do great there. I’ll keep in contact.”
“I’m happy I get to tell you about my feelings and talk to you before I go.”
I reached my arms out and pulled him into a hug. I suddenly hear him sobbing into my shirt, damping it a little as his sobs were muffled. I brought my hand up to his hair, caressing it gently.
“I’m happy I got to love you for once in my life. Despite it being tiring, it did make me who I am today.”
#nct x reader#nct#nct 2020#nct imagines#nct 127#nct ff#nct fluff#nct imagine#nct scenarios#nct angst#winwin#nct winwin#nct dong sicheng#dong sicheng#winwin x reader#nct sicheng#sicheng x reader#winwin imagines#winwin scenarios#winwin angst#winwin fluff#sicheng fluff#sicheng au#sicheng angst
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
not moving on, not looking back // javid (ch. 10)
A/N: y’all know the drill
TW: discussion of abuse (physical and substance related)
Read On AO3!
And that’s how it starts.
They stop at David’s beforehand so he can change out of his slacks, shirt, and tie, and if David purposefully wears an outfit to elicit a certain response from Jack, he plays it off pretty well. He had changed into a tight white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit in all the right places, hidden under a baggy hoodie that he didn't take off until he was safe within the walls of Jack’s home. It feels… empty, now that Katherine isn’t there to fill the space with her voice, her presence.
It’ll be an adjustment, but as long as Katherine and Jack are okay with it, then David will follow their lead.
David sits alone on his phone while Jack goes upstairs and changes. He scrolls through twitter for a while, until he hears footsteps and-- oh, holy shit. Jack walks into view wearing a black sleeveless muscle shirt and gray sweats, and his hair looks so deliciously messy from combing the gel out. He’d clearly gone for the more comfortable look, and David has to stop himself from staring.
“You want anything to drink?” Jack asks as he walks into the kitchen, which prompts David to stand and follow him. Jack grabs a beer from the fridge, offering a second to David.
“Hey, I know we kind of talked already, but… How are you? Like, really?” David asks as Jack takes a drink.
Jack takes in a deep breath and shrugs as he hops onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, swinging his feet. He looks up at David, who has positioned himself to lean against the counter about two feet in front of Jack. “It… It tore me up for a while last night, after she told me, but honestly? I feel a lot better. Like a weight’s been lifted. I had a bad panic attack, but we talked more last night than we’ve talked to each other in ages, and I… I feel like I got my best friend back, y’know? I didn’t get a lot of sleep, though, just… because it’s makin’ me think about stuff I ain’t never thought about before.”
“Like what?” David asks softly, tilting his head before taking a sip of the beer. “Not that- I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but maybe I can help a little. I don’t mind.”
“It’s just… Family stuff,” Jack admits, then rubs his forehead. “We told my Ma last night and she was, y’know, a bit disappointed, but she understood. I just… The whole divorce thing makes me feel like my dad,” Jack explains softly, crossing his arms over his chest. For someone who is nearing thirty, Jack looks like a vulnerable teenager right then. He slowly looks up into David’s eyes, gulping. “He always said he regretted not getting a divorce. He wasn’t a good guy at all. Homophobic, real republican, but my mom married him because he had a good job and a good family. He was the one to kinda push the whole football thing on me, but I was never good at playin’, y’know? Loved the game, but I didn’t have any skill, trust me," Jack says with a chuckle, shaking his head.
“Did they get a divorce? Your parents?”
“No, my, uh… My mama died before anything was finalized, and everything kinda took a turn. I got… I don’t know. I was really fucked up for a long time. The school counselor suggested that I start drawing my feelings or starting a journal or something, and it worked. Really well, actually. I loved it.”
“Is that what got you into art? Kath mentioned that you wanted to go to art school,” David murmurs, moving to lean against the island, right next to Jack’s leg.
“Yeah, actually,” Jack says with a laugh, then gulps. “My dad wasn’t a fan of me doing the art stuff. I took an art class in middle school, and we had a showcase at the end of the year. I invited him to it, and he-- Do you, uh, do you mind if I talk about this? I don’t wanna force, like, heavy shit on you if you aren’t comfortable,” Jack cuts himself off, looking at David with a gulp. “I’ve only ever told my ma and Kath about this. My dad just… wasn’t a nice guy.”
“Thanks for checking in, but I don’t mind, okay? I’ll tell you if I’m ever not in the right headspace, but, Jack, you’re going through a lot. Just let it out,” David encourages with a sad grin.
Jack nods, then takes in a deep breath. “So-- Art show. Dad said he wasn’t gonna come. Told me he wasn’t gonna support me doing something ‘queer’, even though I’m- even though I told him I wasn’t,” Jack explains, taking a long drink from his bottle with a blank expression on his face. “But, uh, he didn’t believe me when I told him I wasn’t, and he… slapped me. That was when I was eleven. The physical stuff continued, ‘specially when football season started up again and he saw that I was on the bench every game, ‘cause I really wasn’t good at it. It got… rough. It only stopped when my coach noticed a bruise when we were practicing and I- I guess I was real stiff and limping real hard, so he told me to sit out, and when I took my pads off, my shirt lifted up, and… My dad was in police custody the next morning.”
“Fuck, Jack,” David says in an apologetic voice, staring at him with a lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry you went through that… Did he go to prison, or--”
“Yeah, there was a bunch of evidence, so- so he went to prison. Really easy case against him. He was supposed to get, um, ten years, I think. The last time I saw him, he told me that he was glad my mom was dead so she didn’t have to see me 'turn gay’- like I said, he was a shitty guy. That… I don’t know. I used to be like that, too, but then one of my friends, a coworker of mine, came out, like… eight years ago?” Jack bites his lip, looking down at his hands after putting his bottle down. “I’ve changed. I realized that I was just actin’ like him. I never realized he was so… bad, until I became an adult.”
“Are you still…” David gulps. “You haven’t talked to your father?”
Jack looks up at David, and smiles sadly. “He had a heart attack in prison, about five years in. So… yeah. I’m all that’s left.”
David is at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what to say. This is not how he thought the night would go, but at least Jack was getting to vent and David was getting to know him on an even more personal level but, good God, Jack had been through so much.
And adding being adopted, losing his daughter, and divorcing his wife into the mix…
Jack has hurt more in his life than he ever let on.
“Jack, I… I don’t know what to say,” David admits with a frown, but slowly reaches out, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me all of that. You… You’re so strong, y’know? You’ve been through so much, yet you’re successful and smart and… I know we haven’t known each other long, but I am so, so proud of you. But- but you shouldn't have had to be so strong. You didn't deserve any of that. Not the… Not the abuse, or the homophobia, or the pressure. If you ever need to talk about it again, I’m just a phone call away.”
“Thank you, Davey, that means a lot,” Jack says with a tight-lipped grin, then gulps. “What about you? You got any skeletons in your closet? 'S only fair that you tell me somethin' sad now, y'know.”
David stares at him for a moment. He then holds up one finger and downs the rest of the beer in his bottle, taking in a deep breath once he is done. His eyes close and he tilts his head back, then begins speaking. “From the age of twenty-two to about a month and a half ago, I was addicted to cocaine. I had a brief stint in which heroin was a daily thing, but that stopped after a few months. Too expensive. I regularly had sex with drug dealers in exchange for pills, I’ve been kicked out of gay bars for showing up high out of my mind, I now go to Narcotics Anonymous meetings, and I have to spend, like, ten minutes every morning trying to convince myself not to call in sick just because I’m having bad withdrawals. Bad as in, like, shaking in the shower and crying because I feel like I need to shoot up.” He slowly opens one eye, shooting a sad grin toward Jack. “I guess we’re even, huh?”
Jack stares at him for a few moments, then lets out a laugh as he nods along. “I- I guess you can say that, yeah,” He murmurs, then looks at David with a gulp. “If you ever need anything, just let me know, ‘kay? I don’t… I don’t really have experience with that kind of stuff, but if you ever need anything, I’m here, whether you need to talk, or you… need somewhere to stay,” Jack says slowly, seriously, and David nods. “I’m right here, Dave. Just like you're here for me.”
“Thank you, Jack. I’ve been getting better, I think- the, uh, withdrawals are starting to mellow out, at least a little bit, but it’s just… getting used to sobriety that’s throwing me for a loop,” David admits. He watches Jack’s eyes shift from his face to the empty bottle in his hand, and David shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking-- I never had an alcohol problem, it was just the drugs. I, uh, don’t drink often, though. Just to make sure.”
David doesn’t drink often because David has an addictive personality. David doesn’t drink often because David knows he’s susceptible to alcoholism if he goes down the wrong path.
It makes him feel better to know that Jack is watching out for him in that way, though.
“If you’re sure,” Jack responds with a kind smile. The two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Jack finishes his beer, David watches him, and everything is… calm.
But not for long.
“Dave? Can I ask you a kind of weird question?”
“Shoot.”
“How’d ya know you were gay?”
David’s eyes widen a bit. He wasn’t expecting... that. He looks up, but Jack refuses to meet his eyes. He’s instead staring at the cabinet above the sink, sitting eerily still, and David isn’t sure how to respond for a few moments. Slowly, David shrugs, and looks down at his hands. “I just never really found an interest in women. Plus, I used to be really into this guy in one of my classes… I don’t know, it was just kind of natural for me. My parents were religious, but they never really said anything about it if I brought guys home for dinner, or if I wore makeup to school. I never really had that… epiphany, I just… I was just gay. Never questioned it,” He explains, holding his breath in the heavy silence that follows. He slowly glances back up toward Jack, expecting to see him staring off into space, but to his surprise Jack is staring right back at him. “Can I ask why you’re asking?”
Jack gulps. There’s a long moment of silence, before he sits up a little straighter. “Kath has been talking about 'self exploration' ever since yesterday. Mentioned she’s, uh… curious.”
“Mhm.”
Jack meets David’s eyes. He stares for a few moments before locking his lips, straightening his posture, and saying, “I think I might be, too.”
There’s a beat of silence. David holds his breath. Holds Jack’s gaze. He waits for a few moments, waiting for Jack to back down, but it never comes. Finally, David gives in.
He asks, breathless, “Wanna find out?”
There’s no more speaking after that.
#jack kelly#davey jacobs#david jacobs#javid#javey#tarrytown au#jac writes#newsies#newsies fic#newsies live#livesies
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
04:23 am - Dino -> 💯
On occasion of the 0.1k event.
Prompt: “Did I ever explain to you how to properly push a cow?” + “Abort Mission! Retreat!”
Genre: Fluff! Crack!
Pairing: ChanxReader
Memo: I am so happy this was requested with Chan omg it fits so well. This is based on my own experience and it’s a memory I always forget about and then suddenly remember lol It’s buried somewhere deep in my head and pops up every now and then
“Did I ever explain to you how to properly push a cow?” You ask and Chan snorted, having trouble not spitting his beer across the tent.
“No you haven’t. But please, elaborate.”
You sit up a little bit more straight and Chan got chills as he saw your eyes lighting up. He loved seeing you all passionate about something. Which happened a lot to be honest. A huge part of your friendship was hyping each other up and getting each other into new things.
“So it’s actually hilariously easy. You approach the animal from a side of your choice and lean against. Just lean heavily and then quickly take a step back. The cow will try to balance it out but because you’re suddenly gone it will over do it and fall to the side you were leaning on.”
“You made this sounds way too professional.”
“That is a very serious topic so you should always treat it with the appropriate amount of professionalism.” You smile and take a chug from your beer.
“I want to try it.”
“Pushing a cow?”
Chan nodded excitedly and got up, his head pushing against the roof of the tent. It was a warm summer night early in the morning. The two of you made camping plans for a long long time but since covid emerged you couldn’t go anywhere. So eventually decided to just camp on your parents farm.
Your parents knew Chan well. You had been friends since kindergarten and since you didn’t see each other that often since you entered university they were happy to see him again. Your mother went on and on about how tall he’d gotten and how handsome he’d become and when your mother mentioned all these things so smitten by him you began to notice them yourself.
You secretly hated her for pointing it out.
Because this certainly wasn’t the first time you camped together. You’ve done it a million times. Sleeping in the same tent, changing in the same tent. When you were younger you even shared a sleeping bag when the temperatures suddenly dropped.
But since your mother got all fangirl about Chan you couldn’t stop noticing how he had changed from when he was a kid or teenager. He still was your age but as often as you forgot that you got older, you certainly forgot that he was ageing as well.
“Of course.” He waved at you. “Hello? Are you tired?”
You didn’t notice you were staring at him, completely ignoring his answer. You only just now noticed that his cute little young boy hands had turned into grown-up man hands since you last saw him.
And even though you hated to admit it: You just wanted to know what it felt like holding them.
“What? We can try it. You know we have cows.” Just the second you said these words he opened the entrance and disappeared into the night.
“Dude, wait!” You shout and go after him. The last time you’ve checked the clock it displayed 3 am. Some time passed since then and even though that number climbed up - the temperatures didn’t. It was still cold.
Morning dew covered the ankle-high grass. You planted the tent under the huge tree in the corner of your parent’s farm. It was somewhat far away from the house and the stables and hangars where they kept all those huge machines one needed to stay on top of the whole thing.
You ran after him, both of you left your beers in the tent.
“Chan wait!” You shouted and your breath condensed in front of your eyes. He stoped around 200 meters ahead of you and turned around.
Seeing him, the sillhouette of his grey hoodie against the dark blue-is green of the forest behind the farm. As you caught up to him waiting for you, you painfully noticed how much you had missed him.
“We shouldn’t push our cows.” You said.
“Why not? Are they getting old?” Chan joked and you laughed at it softly.
“Yes and no, but we should push the neighbour’s cows. He blocked my parked car with his at he grocery store last week and I have to pay him back.”
—
“Okay, so you remember how I explained it to you?” You ask sitting next to him on the fence.
“Lean against it and then go away and very likely run away? Because cows are animals and they will come for you.”
“Exactly they are less peaceful than you think and also there is a dog somewhere who goes off as soon as he hears a moo that isn’t off a satisfactory origin.”
Chan laughed and jumped down the fence. He tied his shoe laces and his look fell onto your bare feet by the way. “Where are your shoes?”
“You ran off so quickly I didn’t have time to put them on.” You say and he smiled in apology.
“I am sorry, you know how excitement always gets the better of me.”
“I do.” You say. “Now go and push your cow, boy.”
As he ran off to find a cow and shouted back: “I will get back to you for that one later because that was low, even for you!”
You laughed and just prayed that the dog didn’t hear either one of you. Soon Chan was out of sight and you let your eyes wander across the foggy pasture. For a few minutes you were alone with your thoughts again. And if you liked it or not: They always wandered off to Chan. Even though you tried to distract you. Maybe it was the unusual time of the day that caused this blue feeling but it just wouldn’t let go of you.
Suddenly you hear a scandalised “MOO” and shortly after aggressive dog barking. Even shorter after that you saw your friend emerging from the fog and running sprinting towards you, nothing but fear on his face.
“Abort Mission! Retreat!” He yelled and as he reached both you and the fence he quickly jumped over it propping up with one hand and pulling the perplexed you with him. So that you almost fell back first off it.
But Chan didn’t let go of your wrist and pulled you closely behind him through the tiny forest that separated your farm form the neighbours farm.
“Chan, ouch! Stop! I’m not wearing any shoes!” You cry out as he dragged you through the trees and undergrowth. “The dog can’t get over the fence!”
“I bet he can!” Chan yelled 100% certain.
“He is trained not to! Would you just stop?” As soon as those words left your lips he stopped and you bumped right into him. Heavily panting he looked at you.
“It’s trained not to? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you’d remember!”
“How would I remember, we didn’t see each other for over two years.” He said, catching his breath in-between words. “Btw you don’t remember everything I told you either.”
“What am I not remembering?” You ask frowning and struggling for air. What ever he was about to say next - he sounded somewhat offended. Hurt actually. Just as if he was sitting on this unresolved matter the entire night.
“You seriously don’t remember how I told you I liked you back then?” He noticed the change in your eyes and leaned forward, propping up on his knees, one hand on his chest to avoid your look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. It’s so long ago … you probably do remember but didn’t say anything because you don’t feel the same-“
“Except I do.” You state bluntly and look at him deadly serious, still catching your breath. The quiet forest around you swallowed every noise the two of you made which gave your words a very ultimate feeling. Chan looked up.
“I really don’t remember when you told me but I swear since my mother noticed all these things about you earlier today ... I notice them too and I felt how much I have missed you the entire night. I guess I just got used to not being around you when I am at college but now that we’re spending time again I know what I was missing.”
“Okay no, say that again. I think I lost the thread. My ears are still pounding from the running.” He demanded.
“Chan, I think I like you. And I think I did for a long time-“
He didn’t let you finish your sentence by righten for up and crushing his lips on yours. After a second you pulled away as you still were out of breath and you had to chose between kissing him and breathing.
Which was honestly a tough choice to make.
“Sorry, I had to.” He said, wanting to take a step back but you kept him from it. “I had been sitting on this for too long.” He apologised and avoided your eyes once again.
“No, no. Don’t be sorry. I just need to breathe.”
Somewhere in the distance a dog started barking again. “As much as I want to continue this, I think we should head home first.” You say and finally (finally!) acted according to your wants and grabbed his hand. It felt amazing. Chan had a naturally tight grip. Promising to never let you go.
After a few steps and curses from your side he crouched down in front of you, to piggy back carry you home.
Which you happily accepted.
Masterlist
Taglist
@jeonghanmoon @kpopsnowball @soleilsuhh @himitsu-luna
#back in the days we were fearless#seventeen scenario#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagine#seventeen imagines#seventeen timestamps#seventeen drabbles#seventeen dino#Lee chan#seventeen chan
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
things she’ll never know
When you love someone, the most important thing that you should not do is introduce them to their crush and help them get along. Yoongi knows this because he has learned the hard way. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook has got to be his biggest mistake ever and once things for you and Jungkook start to escalate into more than a friendship, Yoongi knows he fucked up.
-pairing: min yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook)
-genre: angst yo
-warnings: none really, this may be a little stupid
-word count: 2408 words
-A/N: what upppp. back with a little yoongi angst. i hope you guys like it! don’t be shy to request some ideas you’d like me to write! i like live to please people and coming up with plots or scenarios are like super hard for me for some reason. also don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this one! it really, really helps me to improve and write better!
--------
It is without a doubt that everything you do has no reason. Like literally everything you are pursuing has in some way or another been forced onto you. You did not sign up for school, no. Your mother had just dressed you up in a school uniform one day when you were six and left you in a school full of strangers and other tiny people. So naturally, after being forced into things your whole life, you have developed a hate for almost everything.
But nothing you have gone through can quite prepare you for the shit that you have to endure today.
Today, instead of having an engaging discussion about life during homeroom like you usually do, your classmates are scattered around the classroom, cleaning every single nook and cranny until it is basically shining. All the while, the teacher screams at a group of friends who childishly throw rubbish and spray water at each other as a means to make this laborious task at least a little bit more fun than it actually is.
After every semester, your school deems it necessary for the students to conduct a “spring cleaning” activity. As a result, your fun homeroom sessions are replaced with an hour of cleaning; beneficial for the janitors who work at your school, but nonetheless a drab and boring activity.
“This is so boring,” you sigh, verbalising your thoughts to Yoongi, who is silently wiping a window pane beside you. Yoongi remains silent and just nods, lips set in a firm line but expression gentle. At his silent response, you cannot help but allow a smile to bloom on your lips at his extremely Yoongi-esque answer.
Yoongi, your best friend, is an attractive, raven haired boy of little words. He has been by your side for as long as you can remember; since you had moved in beside him. He had come up to you, shy, tiny and chubby, asking you to help him tie his shoelaces. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable and you basically tell him everything. And because Yoongi is such a good friend, the moment you told him that you found Jungkook, a fellow classmate, attractive, Yoongi had taken it upon himself to — unlike his introverted nature — befriend him.
Which brings us to today, almost a year after Jungkook was included into your list of friends. The three of you had grown quite close in the past year. But don’t be mistaken, it took you almost three months to warm up to him, far too shy to even look him in the eyes. But with insistent prompting from Yoongi and an insane amount of coincidental occurrences, obviously articulately orchestrated by Yoongi, you eventually came round and began to talk comfortably with Jungkook.
“Yoongi,” you call him, reaching up to his sleeve to tug on it gently. The action causes Yoongi’s heart to swell and his chest strains painfully with the inability to house the sheer amount of adoration he feels for you. Yoongi hums in response, too lost at the sight of you to process words.
“Make this more fun,” you command, frown drawing your brows together, lips turned down at the corners in a pout. Yoongi’s heart falters at the sight.
Years ago, when you and Yoongi were four years old, only a few days after he met you, he already knew that he was going to marry you. You had run up to him in the playground, attacking him with a bear hug, surprising him by muttering a soft and shy, I love you as you tucked your face into his neck. Yoongi has never been the same since.
That moment has been replaying itself in his head, a constant reminder that his immediate thought after you had embraced him was that he never wanted you to let go. He has only fallen harder for you since; for your magnetic personality and your laugh and your smile that seems to shine so brightly that it is as if the sun had decided to bury itself in your very being.
His unadulterated attraction to even just the thought of you only seemed to strengthen that fateful night, consisting of powerful torrents of rain and a sole umbrella. That night, (despite being under the legal drinking age) you were drunk out of your mind, arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulder and legs tripping over each other clumsily. The two of you had awkwardly, yet silently, stumbled into your room, Yoongi groaning with exertion and exhaustion after having to haul you all the way back to your house from the party that celebrated your school’s volleyball team’s win. As soon as your head had hit your pillow, lightning flashed as if the sky was snapping a picture of that moment, granting Yoongi sight of you. Love surged through him at the sight, your eyes barely open and glazed over in exhaustion.
“It’s raining,” you had observed from the window behind Yoongi. Yoongi, too distracted by the look of pure merriment swirling in your brown eyes that shone like the moon, could only a whisper an aloof answer. You’ve always liked rain.
He was spiralling down a tangent of doubtful supposition, trying to decide if he should just kiss you right then and there, if it would still ruin your friendship even if there was a high possibility that the whole night would excuse itself from your memory in the morning. Yoongi immediately dispelled the horrifying thought from his brain, barely registering that you had gotten up and had started to rummage about your things.
“You should take this umbrella,” you slurred, turning back around to look at Yoongi. You stumbled clumsily towards him, as if you were a baby learning to walk. Just as you were about to hand Yoongi the umbrella, a wire had caught your foot, pulling taut and tripping you. You had stumbled forward in an attempt to find your balance, but once you realised that it would not be possible, you had tried to catch yourself on Yoongi instead, but your lack of sobriety had also meant the deduction of your depth perception, causing you to completely miss his shoulders.
All too suddenly, Yoongi found himself on your bed, on his back, tasting alcohol on your lips. Yoongi’s brain had ceased regular function at that point and instead of pulling away, instead of pushing you off him, instead of something, he found himself kissing you. And for the shortest of seconds, you were kissing him back. He seemed to have fallen from reality and landed in an alternate universe; where you are his, and you are okay with being his. Your lips felt surreal and warm, so, so warm and he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. But then Yoongi felt your tongue at the seam of his lips, and he was dragged out of his trance by the ankles and jolting away from you as if you were a live wire.
“Why...?” you had questioned, earnest eyes gazing down at him, searching for eye contact but Yoongi had refused it, eyes landing on everything except yours. And too fast for Yoongi to even process himself, he was snatching the umbrella from your hands, pushing you off him as gently as he could in his haste, and practically sprinting out of your bedroom, in search of refuge that only his own could offer.
When Yoongi thinks back to that incident, he always beats himself up for dashing out of there before ensuring that you were okay first. He had let his feelings control him and didn’t even stop to think that he should have probably sobered you up first before leaving. But it is far too late to regret and that incident now serves as one of Yoongi’s milestones, the one that had caused his feelings for you to grow exponentially, the kiss that you cannot even remember.
“How about we play tag? If I touch you with this rag, I win. If you manage to evade me for the rest of the period, you win. Winner gets a whole tub of ice cream,” Yoongi suggests, finally snapping out of his trance.
“That hardly seems far,” you complain with a slap to his bicep. It causes Yoongi to flinch and you let out a melodious chuckle at his reaction. Yoongi’s heart dances to the tune.
“Fine then, be bored,” is Yoongi’s snarky reply. He lets out a sigh in faux disappointment and turns back to the window to continue his interrupted wiping. Though, his expression immediately brightens when you protest to your teasing gone wrong. Flowers bloom in Yoongi’s chest and he feels a strong urge to hug you; to wrap you up in his arms, hidden away from the world in his warmth. Yoongi has to quite literally hold himself back to not act on the urge.
And so begins the game of tag. If Yoongi were to be entirely honest, he hates physical activity, of every and any sort. Which is why he has no idea why he had suggested to play tag in the first place. If he were to be even more honest, even if he hates running, he is sure that if he were playing seriously, the game would end in the matter of seconds. So, he chases you with restraint and pretends to take breaks in between the chasing. And if he ever came close to tagging you, he would shorten his reach so that the rag would miss you by a hair. It is just, Yoongi is high on the sound of your mirthful giggling, not wanting it to stop for even just a second. Not when the sound makes him so happy that he feels as if his whole body is levitating.
Yoongi chases you all around the classroom, the two of you blatantly ignoring your teacher’s nagging. As the period comes to an end, Yoongi quickens his speed, just refusing to lose to you after realising how much you would tease him if he did. Now at the front of the classroom, Yoongi finds himself far behind you, struggling to catch up.
Everything that happens next seems to happen in slow-motion for Yoongi.
As you glance over your shoulder to gauge where Yoongi is, you accidentally ram into someone. More specifically, you run right into Jungkook. You let out a surprised squeal when your head hits his chest and Jungkook wraps his arms around you in instinct, letting out his own sound of surprise. Yoongi’s heart, at the sight, sinks right into his gut, as if it were in quicksand. Jungkook’s expression of surprise morphs into an endearing smile and he relaxes and hugs you comfortably, arms around your shoulders and chin resting gingerly on top of your head.
Jungkook’s scent and warmth send you into a state of delirium. Your cheeks burn red in embarrassment when he starts stroking your hair, gently combing his fingers through the thick locks. Your classmates do not care, in fact you do not think they even notice the intimate moment the two fo you are having now. It is as if the world has vanished and it is just you and Jungkook, and no one else to disturb you. In Jungkook’s arms, everything feels right, like not a thing in the world is wrong, and maybe, it is here, in his arms, that you belong. As cringe-worthy as it sounds, your ears tune out all of your surroundings and only seem to be able to focus on the rhythmic beating of Jungkook’s heart. And when your arms come up around him to circle around his waist, the pace of his heart increases and you finally know that you are not the only one who is feeling things.
Yoongi, on the other hand, is absolutely livid, irises flaring red as he looks at the two of you hugging so dearly, so natural that it is as if you two have been hugging for years. One side of Yoongi, the selfish side, wants to rip you from Jungkook’s arms and claim you as his, as if he is the hound of hades, guarding the gates of the world the two of you have built together, preventing Jungkook from ever entering your world and snatching you away. But the other side of Yoongi, the one that grounds himself to reality should his love for you cause him to do utterly idiotic things, tells him to come to terms with the fact that you will never be involved with him romantically, tells him to just let you go, tells him to deal with his own idiotic actions. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook is, and will forever be his biggest regret. But at the same time, how could he not? When you had gazed up at him with mirth-filled eyes, smile shining brighter than any star to exist in the cosmos. How could he not when he could basically feel your voice worm its way into his chest, festering something so captivating that he could not help but do something, anything to hear that tone in your voice again and feel the flowers bloom in his heart, a sweet, summer warmth melting him like candle wax. How could he rob you, the one person he has loved with all his heart, mind and soul of your happiness?
The answer is that he cannot.
So, instead of socking Jungkook in the face, instead of tearing you from Jungkook’s arms and kissing you with passionate ferocity, Yoongi circles your hugging bodies so that you can see him, gently tapping you to get your attention. Your head pops out from Jungkook’s chest and you look at Yoongi over his shoulder. When your eyes lock, your arms still around Jungkook and Jungkook’s arms still around you, he whispers as softly as he can so that you cannot hear the cracking of his heart in his voice. And despite the excruciating amount of pain he is feeling in this moment, Yoongi manages to proffer you a small smile.
“You win.”
His words refer to a plethora of things; his heart, his life, this one-sided game he has been playing. And then, before you can question anything, he leaves you to deliberate what on earth those two words should signify other than that game of tag that just decided Yoongi’s and your destiny.
Because did you actually win or did you just lose everything?
#min yoongi#suga#yoongi#angst#yoongi angst#bts#bts imagines#yoongi imagines#suga imagines#suga fanfic#yoongi fanfic#bts fanfic#yoongi au#suga au#yoongi scenarios#suga scenarios#fanfiction#bts scenarios#suga x reader#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#yoongi x y/n
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 2 - Back in Session
Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)
Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas
Other Pairings: N/A
Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)
Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality
Summary: Classes resume for Fiora's second semester at Penderghast.
Previous Scene: Identity Crisis
Masterlist: Link
INT. PENDERGHAST CAMPUS - VARIOUS LOCATIONS
MONTAGE
In Tubigan Hall’s Auditorium 3, the students file in for their first class of the new semester; Fiora and Shreya are holding hands. A middle-aged man with long dark hair stands at the front of the room. This is DR. VARTOKIS, another Penderghast professor.
SHREYA (to Fiora): You know? I almost missed attending classes.
Fiora giggles.
FIORA: Emphasis on the “almost,” right?
ZEPH: I just realized... Fiora, you are gonna breeze through this class!
The group takes their seats, with Shreya and Fiora sitting together. Shreya smiles and wraps an arm around Fiora as they sit.
FIORA (quizzically): Why’s that?
ZEPH: ...Do you even know what class this is?
FIORA (embarrassed): Uh... no. I’ve been kinda distracted lately.
Zeph smiles and winks suggestively at Shreya, who laughs.
ZEPH: Oh, I bet! Anyway, this is--
Dr. Vartokis chooses that moment to address the class, his voice amplified. He speaks with a very cheerful, casual tone.
DR. VARTOKIS: Hello there, everyone! Welcome to your first class of this semester: Attuneless History, Society, and Culture! ...Or you can just call it “AHSC” for short if you want. I won’t judge ya!
A few students laugh as Fiora mouths a silent “oh” of understanding at Zeph. Zeph nods, and starts to say something, but Beckett shushes them.
DR. VARTOKIS: Okay, okay, I know many of you are probably wondering what the point of this class is. After all, if you’re gonna spend your career here in the Stoicheal Realm, why bother with my class? The truth is, whether your future leads you to a life among Tuneless or not, our two societies are inextricably linked.
BECKETT (muttering): Fascinating point. I had not considered this...
Beckett hurriedly writes something down in his notebook.
DR. VARTOKIS: Not to mention, there’s a lot we can learn from the Tuneless! We must never forget that we came from their realm, not the other way around. After all, it wasn’t so many centuries ago that our societies lived and worked side-by-side! In fact...
Dr. Vartokis continues talking as Shreya gives Fiora a knowing smile and leans her head on her shoulder. Zeph, meanwhile, is (for once) paying attention to the professor, nearly as attentively as Beckett.
DR. VARTOKIS: --as such. I’ll ask a few simple questions to get us started. First: who can tell me the name of Penderghast’s Archikeal reflection?
Several students--including Fiora and Shreya--raise their hands. Dr. Vartokis points to a student near the front of the hall, a Metal-Att named HECTOR RILENN.
HECTOR: It’s “Hart”-something, isn’t it? “Hartschild?” ...Maybe?
Dr. Vartokis shakes his head.
DR. VARTOKIS: Close, but not quite. You there!
He points to Shreya, who answers eagerly:
SHREYA: Hartfeld University!
DR. VARTOKIS: Correct! Now, who can tell me...
As he moves on to the next question, Shreya smiles at Fiora.
SHREYA (whispering): I’d never have known that one without you!
Shreya gives Fiora’s hand a quick squeeze. Fiora blushes and turns her attention back to the professor...
* * *
Fiora and her classmates file into one of the greenhouses for Natural Studies. Several of the other students are speaking to each other with confusion evident in their voices. Dracarys and Rys flutter above their owners’ heads with excitement, while Beckett’s (still) unnamed Grogue lets out a lazy croak from its position in his lap. Zeph laughs.
ZEPH: Looks like you’ve got some extra time, Beckett! Gonna name him yet?
BECKETT (irritated): Why on Earth do you think my answer would be any different than before?
Zeph leans in closer and smiles conspiratorially.
ZEPH (slyly): You know... Atlas told me what she’d name her Companion, if she ever got one. I asked her if she ever considered just not naming it at all, and she laughed in my face--
BECKETT (shocked): What?! You never mentioned this to me before!
ZEPH (shrugs): You never asked. So, what’s the verdict?
Beckett sighs, clearly considering Zeph’s words.
BECKETT (to himself): ...Hmm. It will have to be a name that is tasteful and refined...
Zeph gives Shreya and Fiora a side glance and a thumbs-up. Shreya giggles as Dr. Kontos enters the greenhouse.
DR. KONTOS: Greetings, and welcome back to Natural Studies! I am pleased to report that all of you passed the class, and did wonderfully on your finals!
A few cheers go up from the room, but most of the students just continue staring quizzically at Dr. Kontos.
DR. KONTOS: Yes, yes, let us address the dryxmar in the room first. According to standard Penderghast curriculum, my course ordinarily would be replaced with “Sourcism and Philosophy” for this semester. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Dr. Swan is otherwise occupied and unable to teach her usual class. Thus, Dean Goeffe has granted me permission to continue Natural Studies into your next semester!
As the students start muttering amongst themselves, Fiora leans in toward Shreya.
FIORA (whispering): Dr. Swan’s still gone? That... doesn’t seem good.
SHREYA (whispering): Perhaps Atlas is starting to rub off on you. We know why Dr. Swan is absent! She’s off on a mission for the Defenders, remember?
FIORA (whispering): Maybe, but still... it’s been weeks...
SHREYA (whispering): You just need to relax a little and focus on other things for a change. Like the Amorelia Day Gala! It may be a bit far off yet, but there’s no time like the present!
FIORA (whispering): “No time” for what?
SHREYA (whispering): Why, for asking whomever you intend to ask to the dance, of course! Surely you plan to ask, right?
FIORA (whispering): I dunno. I’ve got so much else going on right--
DR. KONTOS: Ahem. Miss Luxen, Miss Mistry, care to rejoin the class?
Fiora and Shreya blush heavily when they notice Dr. Kontos and the other students all staring at them. Fiora bows her head in apology and focuses on Dr. Kontos as Shreya looks at Fiora, frustration clearly evident on her face...
* * *
Inside the Defenders of the Flame meeting chamber, Lucia and Arvan lead Fiora, Shreya, and the third-year inductees in practicing their Stoicheal Gathers. Although Shreya manages to perform a Gather after only two tries, Fiora still struggles with her own. Lucia approaches her while the others are practicing.
LUCIA: Hey. Looks like you’re having some trouble.
Fiora stops and looks at Lucia, then nods.
FIORA: It’s the whole “foundation point” thing. I suck at it.
LUCIA: Having trouble figuring it out, then?
FIORA: Yeah.
LUCIA: There’s not a lot I can help you with on that front. The foundation is something that comes from within. Who is Fiora? What makes you... well, you?
FIORA: I don’t know. I’m not as talented or confident as Shreya...
Lucia follows her gaze to where Shreya is performing yet another perfect Stoicheal Gather, to the delight and cheers of the third-year inductees. Fiora sighs.
FIORA (to herself): I doubt I’ll ever be.
* * *
Fiora and Shreya walk hand-in-hand down a street in Pennelia, the bright sunlight reflecting off of the snow all around them. Shreya is regaling Fiora with a story.
SHREYA (speaking rapidly): --but it wasn’t as though I meant to Evaporate the entire hot tub! I was just getting so angry, and the water was plenty hot to begin with. It’s an honest mistake to make, you know. At any rate, I still ended up winning “Best Dressed” for the evening, so it wasn’t for nothing.
FIORA: Wow. That’s-- (laughs) Attuned parties really are something.
SHREYA: Oh, they really are! That’s one reason why I’m so looking forward to the Gala. Let me tell you, I’ve already got the perfect dress picked out! Now all that’s left is... well... you know, if someone were to ask me...
FIORA (curiously): Ask you what?
Shreya sighs in frustration and shakes her head.
SHREYA (annoyed): Seriously? It’s--ugh, never mind.
She immediately brightens and points to a shop in the distance.
SHREYA: Oh! Montraire Bakery! We simply must stop in for a bite!
She drags Fiora toward the bakery, but as she does so, Shreya’s face displays a brief flash of disappointment...
* * *
In her usual lecture hall, Dr. Religast is in the midst of a lecture on Stoicheal Awakenings. Beckett, as usual, is taking detailed notes on the professor’s every word, while Zeph is busying himself by attempting a Roped Current with his hands beneath his desk. All that he manages is a weak trickle of water, which Shreya neatly Evaporates before anyone can notice.
DR. RELIGAST: --of triggering an Awakening. The first, and by far the most common: children growing up in Attuned households will often Awaken on their own, simply by exposure to adult Attuned...
Fiora leans over Shreya’s shoulder to see that Shreya is flipping through a small pamphlet decorated with moving pictures of models showing off various dresses.
FIORA (whispering): What’s that?
SHREYA (whispering): Just the latest Mistry Inc. catalogue. It’s mostly dresses during this season, of course. For the many upcoming dances and, ahem... galas!
FIORA (whispering): Oh. Wow! Are you gonna buy anything?
SHREYA (whispering): No, no... I told you, I’ve already bought my dress. It’s just fun looking through these sorts of things!
FIORA (whispering): Right. Sounds like it!
SHREYA (whispering): Now all I need is a date.
FIORA (whispering): Yeah...
Fiora shrugs, turning back to focus on what Dr. Religast is saying.
DR. RELIGAST: --is exposed to a highly concentrated source of stoicheal energy to become Awakened on their own, without any Attuned being present. Although such occurrences are rare, they almost always cause significant upheavals in Tuneless culture when...
Dr. Religast’s voice fades into the background as Shreya lets out a growl of frustration.
* * *
Fiora sits on the couch in their room’s common area as Shreya fiddles with something near the entrance. Apparently satisfied, she steps back to admire her handiwork and does a brief twirl.
SHREYA: And... that should do it! One entryway, freely open for the next six hours!
Fiora laughs.
FIORA: Nice job, Shreya! I didn’t even know we could do that.
SHREYA (winks): Just a little something my sister taught me.
The door to Fiora’s room swings open, and Atlas enters.
FIORA: Speaking of sisters... hey, Atlas.
ATLAS: You’re sure opening the door’s a good idea? What if Raife decides to send something after us while we’re wide open?
SHREYA: He already managed that even with the door closed. I doubt it would make much difference.
Atlas huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at the newly-unlocked doorway.
ATLAS: Okay, but if the next thing to come through that door looks at all suspicious, I’m hitting it with--
She is interrupted by Griffin stepping through the doorway. Griffin quickly raises his arms in surrender as he enters.
GRIFFIN: Whoa, Atlas, it’s me! Please don’t hit me with anything.
Atlas relaxes a fraction.
SHREYA: Griffin! So glad you could make it! (to Fiora) Looks like the entry really is open, you see?
GRIFFIN: Wait, you didn’t check to make sure?
SHREYA (laughs): Relax! Clearly it all worked out, non?
Zeph steps through a moment later, with Beckett close behind.
ZEPH: Alright! The Pend Pals are all here. Let’s get this study session started!
They all gather around the center table, pulling out their various study materials and setting them out. Beckett raises an eyebrow at Zeph.
BECKETT: Not that I am complaining, mind you, but... it’s unusual to see you so enthused about studying.
ZEPH: What? I’m allowed to be excited about it if I want!
FIORA: So, uh... what should we start on first?
BECKETT: Shall we begin with Dr. Vartokis’s “Equivalencies” assignment? It seems by far the most difficult--
SHREYA: Oh, we finished that one ages ago. Fiora’s been making those types of comparisons to absolutely everything in the Stoicheal Realm for months now, so it was easy.
FIORA: I’ll help you guys if you want!
Zeph eagerly pushes his worksheet in Fiora’s direction, while Beckett looks from Zeph to Fiora to Shreya and back in shocked confusion.
BECKETT (muttering): ...Have I fallen into some strange alternate universe?
ATLAS: Wow. Looks like Fiora and Shreya are doing better than you in a class for once. Gotta say, your reactions are hilarious to watch.
BECKETT: Oh? Why don’t you attempt the assignment, then?
ATLAS: Why should I? I don’t even go to class. Besides, watching you struggle with schoolwork for a change is way more entertaining.
BECKETT (sighs): You are impossibly vexing...
* * *
Icicles hang from the trees overhead as Zeph stands in a forested part of the quad, clad only in shorts and a t-shirt. He holds a hand out in front of his face, palm outward and glowing with water stoichi, as he struggles to concentrate on something.
ZEPH: Urgh... come on!
A few small spurts of water emerge from his palm and fall to the ground. He grunts in frustration and takes a step backward before preparing to try again.
ATLAS (O.S.): Zeph? That you?
Zeph lets his arm fall to his side and turns to see Atlas, similarly underdressed for the weather in a short-sleeved shirt and thin pants, approaching through the snow. She frowns at him.
ATLAS: I know training when I see it. What are you working on?
ZEPH: Oh! Atlas! ...Actually, you might be able to help. I’m trying to do your Roped Current, but...
He attempts the technique once again, demonstrating a similar result to the first time. Atlas frowns.
ATLAS: You’re really worried about the Wave’s Crest, huh?
ZEPH: Yeah. With Fiora, Shreya, and Beckett all being inducted already, I’m worried I won’t get in at all. My family would kill me if I didn’t get in!
ATLAS (completely serious): Wait, really?! Sources, Zeph, you should get out of--
Zeph breaks down into laughter.
ZEPH: Atlas, I didn’t mean literally! You take things so seriously it’s hilarious. But still, they’d be pretty upset. I’d be the first Hernandez child in eight generations not to be inducted.
Atlas thinks for a moment, then nods.
ATLAS: Alright. I’ll help you out.
ZEPH: Wait, you will? Really?
ATLAS: Sure. For one thing, you’re never gonna accomplish much tryin’ to run before you can walk. Roped Current is damn near impossible to pull off without training up to Energy-Att level first. Or... (shrugs) ...being a natural-born Energy-Att like me, I guess.
ZEPH (dejectedly): Oh.
ATLAS: Don’t worry about it. If this Wave’s Crest thing is so important to you... why don’t we work to get in together? There’s plenty of other techniques I can teach you in the meantime. Stuff that only requires Water Attunement to pull off.
ZEPH: Wow, that’d be perfect! You’re awesome, Atlas, thanks!
In his excitement, he turns and moves to give Atlas a hug, but she goes for a handshake at the same time. They end up awkwardly pressing their palms together and shaking them up and down.
ZEPH (laughs): Alright, not sure what that was... but when do you wanna start training?
ATLAS: Now is fine.
ZEPH: Oh. Uh... wow. You really don’t mess around!
ATLAS: Are we gonna train or what?
As Atlas steps forward and gets into a combat stance, readying herself, Zeph catches her eye and smirks.
ZEPH: ...Alright, I think I get what Beckett sees in you now. You and him would be--blrgrlblubrlgrlgb!
Midway through his sentence, Atlas snaps her fingers, which are glowing with water stoichi. His voice abruptly shifts until it sounds like he’s trying to talk underwater.
ATLAS: Lesson 1. “Water Muffle.” Useful in many situations, and its effect... you can see for yourself.
ZEPH: Gluburgl blurrgrg ubulrgl...
Atlas waves her hand lazily, and the technique ends.
ATLAS: Any more talk about Beckett, and I use it again. Is that clear?
ZEPH: Uh... yeah.
ATLAS: Good. Now then. The first step to Water Muffle is...
_______________________
Notes: Dr. Vartokis was mentioned earlier, but here's his first actual appearance! Yes, he's yet another OC professor. The class he teaches seems to be one Zeph's particularly excited about! (His class is essentially the Penderghast equivalent of Muggle Studies, for the Harry Potter fans in my audience.)
Timeline: We're well into Endless Winter (ES book 2) by now!
_______________________
Next: "That Distance Between Us"
CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie
DotF/Elementalists Tag List:
#the elementalists rewrite#choices the elementalists#choices stories you play#csyp#fanfic#ciu project#choices interconnected universe#defenders of the flame#dotf#fiora luxen#shreya mistry#beckett harrington#atlas luxen#atlas ernhardt#zeph hernandez#griffin langley#dr. vartokis#professor kontos#dr. religast#lucia cruz#shreya x mc#wlw#atlas x beckett#water muffle is pretty useful around zeph XD#been a while since we've seen aster#wonder what she's been up to all this time?#maybe her own adventure...?#hmm...
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Girl in Red
This is part of my Four Years AU
AO3
Masterpost
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Just because Lilith lived at the Owl House now didn’t mean that she had to give up on everything.
A big one of those things was Amity Blight.
It had taken a little while to settle in, but the young witches training would not stop simply because Lilith lived elsewhere now. And barely had any magic left.
Alright, so maybe there would be a few complications.
“What’s got you so worked up?” Eda wondered, poking her head in from the kitchen as Lilith gathered as many books on magic she could find.
And though she still didn’t understand it, she had stashed a few of Luz’s spare glyphs into them as well.
“I’m to meet my p rotégé soon.” Lilith said, fumbling as a glyph fell out of one of her pockets. “I arranged to meet her in the woods for some...outdoor training.” She said, clearly unsure of her own words.
“You mean that Blight kid?” Eda raised a brow. “You still train her?”
“Blight?”
Luz suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking around like she expected to see something exciting.
“Do you mean Amity?”
“Of course I do. I still train her.” Lilith snorted.
“Oh, oh! You could train her here!” Luz suggested, looking positively delighted at the thought. “We could train together! Eda’s still teaching me about wild magic, even if she can’t use it anymore.”
“My teaching method is far different than whatever Edalyn has been showing you.” Lilith said, giving Eda a side-eye.
“Yeah, and it works!” Eda stuck out her tongue.
“We could learn from each other,” Luz said, pacing the room in that way she did when she had too much pent-up energy. “It could be a fun training session! Please, please can Amity train here?” Luz begged, facing the witch and clasping her hands together.
“I’m not so sure…” Lilith hesitated.
Luz gave her puppy-dog eyes as she begged, and Lilith had to admit, she was good at it. She couldn’t tell if it came naturally or if Eda taught her that. Probably Eda.
“...very well,” Lilith sighed, shoulders sagging.
"WOO!” Luz pumped a fist in the air. “Training with Amity! Oh, I need to grab my glyphs!” She exclaimed, racing out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Don’t break anything!” Eda warned right before a loud thump and a faint ‘I’m okay!’ could be heard.
“I’ll have to check with Amity herself,” Lilith sighed, pulling out her scroll. “Though I take it she’s been here before?”
“Oh, yeah, the kid visited twice.” Eda nodded. “Once when she erased, like, all of some kids' memories and the other time was when she busted her foot about a week ago.”
“She erased someone's memory?” Lilith gasped, almost dropping her scroll.
“Kid said it was an accident and fixed it up, no big deal.” Eda shrugged casually. “Guess there are some things your protégé doesn’t tell you, eh?”
“Don’t patronize me.” Lilith grumbled. “How she became friends with your apprentice of all people, I’ll never know.”
“Mm, I have a few guesses.” Eda said, glancing off.
Training Amity with Luz and Eda was...a challenge.
For one thing, the way Eda taught Luz was rather...barbaric. Luz didn’t seem super thrilled about it either, though she did as Eda told. Amity was very confused at their antics, and possibly a little concerned.
Luz suggested Amity try it once, and that’s when the lesson first fell apart.
Luz and Amity quickly divulged into a mock-war of the two throwing mushrooms and pine needles at each other. To Eda’s credit, she tried to gain some sense of calm.
For the first twenty seconds.
She began egging Luz on soon after, doing nothing but encouraging the two.
Lilith gave up on the lesson for the day and went inside to make some tea. Amity stuck around for a few hours after the fact, and Lilith mentally noted how red she seemed every now and again.
The next lesson was done inside the Owl House. Eda had (grudgingly) allowed Lilith to inform the girls of how to cast larger illusion spells. Of course, she didn’t know how Luz was going to accomplish it, but the human insisted on listening all the same.
Multiple times Lilith would turn around and find the girls either whispering to each other, trying to stifle giggles, or staring at whatever Hooty or King were doing. Which ranged from eating bugs off the floor to getting stuck in a cardboard box.
Lilith swore she aged at least ten years in that house.
,
“I think we should stop the double training,” Lilith mentioned to her sister one day. It was while she was on Hooty-cleaning duty. Normally she wouldn’t, but Eda had the high ground. Also known as; bringing up the curse that still haunted them both.
“What? Why?” Eda inquired, leaning in the doorway as Lilith scrubbed a mop just above one of the first-story windows.
“Amity can’t pay attention with that human around.” Lilith said, snapping angrily at Hooty as he tried to come over and ‘help out.’ “She’s done nothing but cause trouble.”
“Maybe you should change up your teaching, then.” Eda said simply. “You’re teaching Amity the regular type of magic while Luz and I are teaching each other about wild and glyph magic. Those two don’t exactly mix well.”
“Amity is in the abomination track, I am not teaching her wild magic to become a criminal like you.” Lilith growled. “I���m happy teaching her other forms of magic, but that’s just in case she--”
“What? Joins the Emperor’s Coven?” Eda cut in, crossing her arms. “Lily, do you seriously want her going to that place after all that’s happened?”
Lilith opened her mouth to argue before slowly closing it again.
“The Emperor tricked you, kidnapped me, tried to kill Luz, and is apparently trying to find a way to the human world. And you want her to join?” Eda demanded with a glare.
“...it’s what she always wanted.” Lilith said quietly, setting down the mop. “She was always so excited to be able to learn other types of magic…”
Eda relaxed with a sigh and walked over, placing a hand on her sisters shoulder and gaining her attention.
“Well, I have a feeling she isn’t so keen on it now.” Eda said simply. “She’s still friends with Luz, you know. Besides, have you asked her what she wants to do now?”
Lilith looked away, almost mad at the shame she felt.
“And anyway, I think she’s having fun.” Eda said, turning her head to look through the window of the Owl House.
Lilith looked up as well, seeing Luz and Amity messing around with King, who was still a little angry at Amity for a previous grievance involving a cupcake. Amity was smiling and laughing as Luz was tackled by King and wrestled on the floor with him.
Lilith couldn’t name any recent time she’d seen the young witch so happy. Not since the last covention.
“And having fun is the important part.” Eda said, patting Lilith on the back.
“Well, if the great and powerful Eda says so.” Lilith rolled her eyes.
“I do say so.” Eda grinned. “Now get back to work! I have a house that needs to be cleaned.”
In the second month, training came to a screeching halt.
In that time, Luz had found zero ways to make it back home, like she thought she would.
As soon as September first had rolled around, Luz had been near inconsolable. The poor girl was frantic, sporadic, sleep-deprived, and unconsciously snapping at everyone the longer the minutes ticked by.
Amity was worried sick. Almost literally.
And Lilith would admit, she was concerned for the human as well. Luz, while definitely as chaotic as Eda, was a sweet, well-meaning kid. She was happy to work with and train by Lilith, and was full of life and excitement, even after all she had done.
To see her so panicked and on the verge of tears made her heart tear.
For nearly three months there was an almost non-stop search. Lilith swore they turned the whole town upside down looking for any clues on how to make a portal to the human realm.
They couldn’t find anything.
Luz had calmed in those three months, but not for the better. She was laying about, unmotivated, and in a general slump.
Lilith remembered when she was like that. Back when she had first cursed Eda, and had to live knowing what she had done had all been for nothing.
She did her best to comfort the human, and in a few weeks, she was getting better. Amity and their other friends all helped cheer up Luz, too. And slowly, the old Luz they knew was coming back.
As did the constant redness from Amity.
Lilith had noticed Amity’s red face during the first two months of training with Luz. At first she thought it was the heat, the circumstances, or that she was just sick.
But, no. Amity was fine...presumably.
It had vanished during the close-to three months of worrying over Luz, but once she started to come back, it arose once more.
Lilith would wander into the living room while Amity was visiting and she’d find the two of them sitting on the couch, talking about unimportant things. Luz would be leaning against Amity in some fashion, or just draped across her lap a couple of times.
Each time she’d find a faint heat in Amity’s cheeks. But as soon as Amity noticed her mentor had arrived, she’d light up and grow stiff.
At first, Lilith thought it was because Amity thought she was being caught doing something wrong, like not training. So Lilith made sure to smile and nod at her p rotégé before continuing with whatever she was doing.
It didn’t help. And in some cases, it appeared to make things worse.
Lilith would also note that Amity was incredibly distracted by the human, particularly when she was focusing on magic or doing something outrageous.
Amity would stare at Luz for quite a while if gone uninterrupted. To the point where she would fumble or crash into things if she was busy doing something beforehand. Quite a few items had been broken that way, and even Eda was getting a little annoyed.
Once, on a hot day, Amity had tied up all of her hair and in turn showed off her undercut. Luz had noticed and complimented the young witch on it. Mentioning how she had wanted to get one, too.
Lilith almost thought Amity had accidentally eaten a bloodshroom by how fast the Red™ had come to her cheeks.
During one of their training sessions, Amity had been practicing her natural fire magic. She had both of her hands in front of her with a small magenta flame. Luz had been sitting on the floor and awed at the sight.
When Amity turned to face her, Luz had sat up on her knees, face illuminated by the glow, and acted like she had seen the most incredible magic in the Boiling Isles. Which was saying something, for someone who had faced Emperor Belos.
Amity’s fire had ignited into a very sudden flame, sprouting upwards and nearly nicking her in the nose, causing a mild panic among the house when she set the carpet ablaze. Which Eda later made her pay for.
Any form of physical contact seemed to bring a flush to Amity’s face. She’d avert her eyes, stutter, sweat. The works.
Usually not all at once, but it was still noticeable. Especially for such a well-coordinated person as Amity.
After weeks of silently observing, Lilith decided it could go on no longer. Amity appeared to be in distress, and Lilith was not about to leave her student high and dry when she could do something about it.
So, she came up with theories.
Her first theory was that Luz was warmer than a regular witch, and that’s why Amity looked so red. There wasn’t much information on human biology, so it’s not like it was out of the realm of possibility.
But that theory was shot down almost immediately. Lilith had been around Luz before, and she was no warmer than any other witch. Maybe Amity was extra sensitive? Allergic to humans, maybe?
Her second theory was that Amity simply didn’t know how to react to Luz. Sure, the two were friends, but Lilith had heard about Amity’s horror-story ‘friends.’ Perhaps she just didn’t know how to deal with having a real friend like Luz.
That theory was torn when she’d watched Amity’s interactions with her other two friends, Willow and Gus. She didn’t act nearly the same way with either of them as she did Luz. And while they definitely weren’t as eccentric as Luz, she figured Amity would’ve shown some similar signs.
Her third theory worried her greatly.
A curse.
Granted, not one nearly as severe as the one she’d given Eda, but a curse nonetheless. Perhaps one of her old friends had cursed her to be distracted or embarrass herself in front of Luz. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Though she felt like Amity would’ve talked to her if she was concerned about such a thing. She decided to put a pin in that idea.
Her fourth theory was one that confused her, and yet almost seemed to make sense.
Amity was angry at Luz.
The idea seemed preposterous. Amity didn’t hate Luz. She didn’t even dislike Luz. They were best friends, were they not?
Yet, all the signs pointed to the opposite. Amity was known to go as red as a tomato when angry, it made sense. Amity was always going red when Luz was around, and would look anywhere but at her when it was bad enough.
The constant watching, the aversiveness to sudden touch, the stuttering, the ranting she’d hear Amity go off on now and again, the seeming unease.
Amity was furious at Luz. Or at the very least, uncomfortable with her being around.
It made no sense and so much at the same time.
She wondered if maybe the anger was caused by a curse, but that couldn’t be it. Amity would notice then. She must not have forgiven Luz for the humiliation at the covention and the library. That had to be it.
Right?
With this theory in mind, Lilith attempted to keep Amity as far from Luz as possible. Taking her to the marketplace, training in different areas around Bonesborough, instructing Hooty to be a little more aggressive in guarding, things like that.
Amity transitioned from politely confused, to annoyed, to...well, drained.
Luz made a similar transition. She would always wonder aloud where Amity was, to asking Lilith to train back at the Owl House, to the occasional moping on the couch when Lilith left for training.
It seemed keeping them apart had only made things worse. And Lilith hated seeing either of the girls down.
She suddenly went right back to training at the Owl House again, and the cycle resumed. Maybe even stronger this time.
Lilith was confused, worried, and perhaps a little desperate. What, in the name of the Titan himself, could be the problem?
She decided she needed help, as much as she hated to admit it. And she knew just who to ask.
“Edalyn?” Lilith said, looking up the stairs to where her sister was retreating to her room for the night. “May I speak with you?”
“Uh, sure?” Eda blinked, stepping back as Lilith made her way up the steps and stood across from her in the hallway. “What is it?”
“I’m...worried,” Lilith admitted. “About Amity.”
“Is it her parents?” Eda asked quietly, face softening.
“No, no, thank goodness it’s not.” Lilith shook her head. “I meant...about her and Luz.”
Eda stared at her owlishly for a moment. Lilith had to stop herself from curling her lip at her own accidental pun.
“About time you noticed!” Eda snorted before quickly quieting herself down. She really didn’t want to wake anyone in the house.
“You knew?” Lilith gaped.
“Course I did. That kid of yours isn’t exactly subtle.” Eda chuckled. “It’s nothing to be worried about. Luz is a bit oblivious, but I’m sure she’ll catch on eventually. She’s still worried about herself.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Lilith shook her head in disbelief. “How can it be nothing to worry about? It’s interfering with Amity’s training!”
“So? I think the kids got something good going, if you ask me.” Eda shrugged. “Why are you so worked up about this?”
“Because I care about the well-being of my apprentice!” Lilith hissed quietly. “How can you let the two of them continue to be around each other when it’s so obviously causing Amity distress?”
Eda frowned and opened her mouth to retort before pausing. She appeared thoughtful before looking Lilith up and down.
“Just to make sure we’re on the same page; what do you think is going on?”
“What?” Lilith flicked her pointed ears down. “Amity is annoyed by Luz, isn’t she?” She said, tilting her head. “I mean, I didn’t think it could be true, but with all the evidence--”
Eda let out a loud, vaugly distressing, wheeze.
The Owl Lady covered her mouth with her hand and tried to smother her laughs, wheezing all the way so as to not disturb any of the other residents who were fast-asleep.
“What’s so funny?” Lilith demanded, taken aback.
“You think Amity doesn’t like Luz?” Eda whisper-laughed. “Are you dense?”
“Wha--no! I’m concerned!” Lilith snapped, remembering at the last second to keep her voice down. “What are you on about?”
“Lily, you poor, poor moron,” Eda heavily dropped a hand on her shoulder and looked up, still hunched over from her laughing fit.
“That Blight girl has a crush on Luz.”
Lilith blinked, once, twice. She stared at Eda as the gears in her head slowly began to turn and shift.
“...wait, really?”
Eda had to smother another laugh, visibly shaking with the effort.
“I’m serious!” Lilith whispered. “A crush? Is that what this is?”
“Obviously! Kids head-over-staff!” Eda stood up, leaning against the wall as she raised a hand near her chest to smother any further laughs should they come up.
“Honestly, Lily. I knew you weren’t the smartest tool in the shed, but this is ridiculous.” Eda teased. “I thought after years of watching me fall for those kids in Hexside you would’ve been able to recognize this.”
“You were different!” Lilith huffed, crossing her arms and turning her body away slightly.
“You would go out of your way to show-off. You’d do all you could to be near them while laughing at any stupid jokes they made and had the most absurd face when you’d see them across the--”
Lilith paused, thinking over what she said as the smile on Eda’s face grew.
“Wait... wait,”
Eda covered her mouth again and wheezed, turning her head away to avoid laughing harder at the shocked face Lilith was sporting right now.
"See-see my...my point?” Eda wheezed out.
“Great Titan, you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” Lilith muttered. “And I tried to get them apart.”
“Yeah, not your smartest move.” Eda giggled. “Still think it’s going to interfere?”
“Of course it is. But I’m not going to stop it.” Lilith said simply. “What do you take me for?”
“A woman who curses her own little sister while she’s asleep?”
Lilith gave Eda a deadpan stare. Eda returned it with a smug one of her own.
“Fair, but still.” Lilith relented. “I’m honestly surprised Amity could get so flustered over, no offence, a human.”
“I was surprised, too.” Eda agreed. “But, honestly? I think it works.”
“What makes you say that?” Lilith wondered.
Eda waved her hand and drew Lilith further down the hallway. She stopped outside of Luz’s room and gestured for her sister to be quiet.
Slowly, Eda cracked open the door and peered inside before stepping back to let Lilith see for herself.
Luz and Amity were leaning upright against the back wall, both of them asleep. A discarded The Good Witch Azura book laying in Amity’s lap.
Luz’s head was resting in the crook of Amity’s neck, mouth half-open.
Amity was laying her head across Luz’s, looking far more peaceful.
They each had a hand resting beside them. Amity’s fingers were brushing Luz’s, having looked like she was going to hold her hand before either chickening out or falling asleep.
“See what I mean?” Eda whispered gleefully as Lilith stepped back and quietly shut the door.
“Alright, yeah, you have a point.” Lilith admitted. “I have a lot to make up for,” She mumbled.
“Eh, you can start now.” Eda shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time you messed up.”
Lilith made sure her sister saw the irritated face she gave her.
“Now go to sleep already before we accidentally wake up Hooty. He’ll never shut up if we--”
“Did someone say Hooty?”
“There he is,”
Lilith sat on the couch in the living room, reading a book on glyph-magic. It was early morning, and the rest of the household had yet to rise after the rude awakening from Hooty last night.
Lilith knew that whenever Amity stayed overnight at the Owl House, she would either go home early or very late in the day, depending on if she had informed her parents beforehand.
This time, she had forgotten to tell them.
Lilith wasn’t surprised when she heard the soft footsteps of Amity hurriedly walking down the stairs.
Lilith lowered her book for a moment and turned towards the doorway as Amity stepped through, gazing around nervously. She froze when she saw Lilith, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“So,” Lilith stared awkwardly, sharply closing her book. “Luz, huh?”
Neither of them moved, or spoke, for a good few moments.
“Seriously?” Amity groaned, giving Lilith an exhausted stare. “I didn’t even do anything yet!”
“This happens that often?”
#the owl house#owl house#toh#drabble post#my writing#luz noceda#luz#amity blight#amity#lumity#eda clawthorne#lilith clawthorne#eda#lilith#family bonding#fluff#humor#useless lesbian#useless bisexual#four years au
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
"If you ever truly existed!"
TLDR; @Bioware's Dragon Age writers: If you even truly exist, maybe give Omnism a look, because the way most religions are treated in Dragon Age is kind of depressing.
My fellow fans, you ever think about Corypheus' death scene and psychically shoot a frosty glare at the Bioware team that does Dragon Age? I do. "What was that sudden chill?" one writer asks, shivering. "It's April in Edmonton: the high today is 40," another says. "No, it was that lesbian in Texas! She's at it again!" a third replies, banging a fist on their desk. And then they send me a polite email asking me to stop, because they're Canadian, but I don't because they deserve it.
Seriously, that line where he's like, "Oh noes! I'm having a crisis of faith! Was Dumat ever real? Like, really real???" just makes me cringe. Look, this isn't a hidden god kind of situation. Dumat is real, okay? Like 100% real. I mean, he's dead, but he's still real. You can have faith in Dumat like you can have faith in butter.
No one ever questions the reality of butter; it's so real it has manifested on your plate. The Congregation for the Causes of Saints isn't going to bother checking if butter really happened, because they know it did. Butter leaves no room for doubt. You can have absolute faith in it. You can spread it on toast, you can sauté vegetables with it, you can put a little on a tiny plate to spoil your cat. Now, you don't have to like butter. Arguments about butter are common as milk. You might think that butter is bad for your cholesterol, or that cows deserve better than to be kept in miserable conditions to make butter, or that Bill Gates has put microchips in your butter, but your faith in the reality of butter is more solid even than butter. Maybe as solid as frozen butter even. No one is questioning butter... Until apparently Corypheus does for some unknowable reason. Get this man some coffee and toast, for pity's sake! He must have had a really rough night.
See, the Old Gods were worshiped not because people believed in something their priests said, but because of something the Old Gods said. Namely, "Sup, peasants! We're gods!" Truth of the matter asserted aside, there were definitely dream dragons chatting to people in the Fade! Furthermore, they were out there rewarding followers, punishing backsliders, and doing loop-de-loops in the Fade-sky. They might even have massacred Barindur! And Corypheus knows that because he has talked to Dumat before!
Before he decided to go full-time b-movie horror villain, his day job was as the freaking High Priest of Dumat. He presumably had the privilege of talking to Dumat more than anyone else did. He was the primary conduit of influence for the worshipers of Dumat to their god.
"No, not like this! I have walked the halls of the Golden City! I have crossed the ages!"
Now, Corypheus might have been upset at not being able to find his gods in the Golden City when he rolled up like an unholy Ms. Frizzle in his elf-blood-powered Magic School Bus, but he has surely since figured out where they really were. Somebody must have told him about the fucking Blights, okay? He knows that the Old Gods were actually underground by the final confrontation with the Inquisitor.
So what is up with this line?
"Dumat, ancient ones, I beseech you! If you exist, if you ever truly existed, aid me now!"
Why are you talking like this, Cory baby? Are you okay? Sweetie, he's gone. Dumat is dead, sweetie. He died a long time ago. Literally everyone else in the whole world knows that. Dumat was the first Old God tainted and killed. The Grey Wardens killed him. You know, those guys you mind-controlled? Yeah, those guys. They could tell you all about it. Their order was actually created to kill Dumat. Dumat's tainting actually touched off the First Blight, which was a somewhat important historical event. Maybe look it up in any history book, or in the Chant of Light, or, better yet, just ask anybody; it's kind of a big deal.
To me, Corypheus' line just smacks of the writers trying to pit one religion against another for the benefit of the Christiany one. I don't like it. Firstly because this is badly done, narratively speaking. Corypheus doesn't even worship the Old Gods anymore and having Corypheus react as if his faith in them is being tested here strikes me as OOC.
Let's not forget that Corypheus had started a new religion with himself as a living god. This is not that uncommon in the real world and people who do this (i.e. cult leaders) don't tend to renounce that stance. By appealing to Dumat, Corypheus is admitting his own weakness and admitting the superiority of Dumat over himself. Corypheus' whole schtick was that he was better than everybody else!
And of course it's anti-non-monotheist because that is Bioware's pattern. Elvhen gods? Aristocrats who hunt people for sport. Modern elven gods? Misremembered historical figures. Avvar gods? Swole spirits. Ancient Tevinter gods? Singing dragons who lied about what part of town they live in. The dwarves' Titans/Stone? Singing crystals that give you a really bad trip, bind you to the hivemind, and make you wander away into the darkness, never to be seen again.
But the Maker? He is a hidden god, so nobody knows, except you should infer that He does exist because He can bring Leliana back from the dead, make and fulfil prophecies concerning what no-good demon-worshipers will say in their final moments (see:Corypheus and Andraste 7:19 "They shall cry out to their false gods and find silence."), and give the Herald just enough luck to survive anything. To do otherwise would seem to be taking a particularly un-meta stance.
Look, Bioware, I get it, you're Christians not polytheists. But seriously, you don't have to shit on everyone else's religions to prove that your favorite one is worthy. You set up all these lovey mythologies! Let some of them be true! Also, it makes things feel kind of bleak and disappointing when you focus so much on proving all the polytheists (and only the polytheists) wrong. For me, it strips some of the wonder away.
Religion is the most magical part of our world. It literally involves willing something (inner strength/gods/spirits of nature/souls of the dead/etc.) to change something about the world. That's magic! It might involve a third party (generally), but it's still magic! It might involve sacrifices of candles, burning incense sticks, donating money, giving up meat, saying special words, reading a special book, drawing sacred circles, or burning entrails in a sort of trade for service, but it's still magic, just like in Thedas! A prayer is not different from a spell. In Thedas, prayers to purify one's soul and prayers to set one's enemies on fire both work. At least, the latter demonstrably does.
Ultimately, you take a little bit more of the magic out of Thedas every time you prove another religion wrong there. You are reducing the fantastical in your fantasy. Please stop it.
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
do you do reactions? 🥺 i was wondering if you could do a reaction of the boys when you’re a whole “stay 6 feet away” person bc of corona and when they try to kiss you, you like push them away and place a ruler between you and them? LMAOAOA ITS SO WEIRD BUT I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT THIS 😔 okay thank you love, stay safe and hope you’re doing well!
LMAO i never thought about doing them but i can def try! don’t come for me if they’re stupid or bad aha <3
❥ kim hongjoong
you didn’t think you’d have any problems with hongjoong since it had taken you a good few days to convince him to see you in the first place. “we’ll wear our masks and stay six feet apart,” you told him, “you weren’t even sick so i don’t know why you think you’re gonna give it to me.”
but the boy couldn’t help but worry, knowing he’s around a lot more people than you and traveled quite a bit during this outbreak. and if he got you sick, he’d never forgive himself. but he also wouldn’t forgive himself if he hurt your feelings by not coming, hence why you two were currently standing outside your home a few feet apart.
“see,” you told him, eyebrows raising playfully as a smirk crosses your face. “it’s fine!”
and it was fine, he sees that now, so when he walked forward with a determined look in his eye, he had fully expected you to accept his kiss and allow your mouths to crash just a little.
but then your eyes widen and you pull your mask up, holding your hands out right in front of you to push him away. “hongjoong!”
“what, it’s fine you said! so why can’t we kiss?”
❥ park seonghwa
you were happy that you and seonghwa had been on the same page about social distancing and what not, the both of you seeing the importance in protecting yourselves and taking all the proper precautions.
which is why you were incredibly surprised that when you went to visit seonghwa, he had gone right up to you and tried to kiss you.
“hwa, what are you doing?” you asked him, backing away from him ever so slightly. “i don’t have my mask on.”
“well yeah, it’d be kind of hard to kiss you if you did.”
and you never thought you’d have the strength to actually pull away from him as your lips were about to touch, taking the ruler from your back pocket and smacking him lightly in the stomach.
“where the-where did you get that?”
you place the ruler between you both before eyeballing the rest of the distance. “i knew i would need extra protection. we can’t do that!”
“y/n….” he said, his tone low and commanding like every other time you give him trouble. and usually it works, falling victim straight away to his deep voice and soft, narrowed eyes. but this is different, you try to convince yourself, this is way more serious and you can’t give in.
“seonghwa, we can’t,” you whine again.
a sigh leaves his mouth before he reluctantly agrees, your lips quirking up into a smile as your face brightens; you think this is the first time you’ve ever called the shots with your boyfriend.
your bright smile makes him groan, mumbling that you shouldn’t look that pretty and happy about being able to kiss.
❥ jeong yunho
he was always a sweet, understanding boy in every sense of the word. even when you guys were at your separate homes, he made sure be in constant contact with you whether it be through text, facetime, or calling, because he knew you were slightly anxious about getting sick and being quarantined.
however, when you finally did agree for you guys to hang out, he came rushing over with his mask and gloves up to his elbows causing you to giggle in the doorway.
“is this okay?” he asked, “i was- i was gonna get a suit too but-“
your giggle turned into loud laughs, shaking your head as you insisted a suit would’ve been too much. so maybe that’s what made him think it was okay to break the six feet apart rule and lean down for a kiss.
but then you gasped and covered your mouth with your dry, raw hands.
“yunho!” you whined.
“what?” he pouted, “i’m not sick, baby, i promise.”
but then the blank stare you gave him made him sigh, the pout on his lips making you frown as well; it’s not like you didn’t wanna kiss him, of course you did, but you were just too scared.
and once you told him that, he ended up settling for you blowing him a kiss, insisting you do it for the remainder of your time together that day.
❥ kang yeosang
yeosang couldn’t help but burst out laughing when he saw you come out of your car. it wasn’t because the mask somehow managed to look cute on you or the fact that your hands were covered in the smallest size gloves he’d ever seen.
it was because the last thing he expected was for you to be wielding a ruler.
“y/n, what the fuck is that?”
“six feet apart!” you sang melodically, spacing out approximately six feet “and if you try to break that, it works as a weapon too.”
he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it as he looks over you. he had known you were freaked out about everything and he understood the gloves and mask. but now you had brought something with the sole purpose of beating him when he very much so was gonna try to sneak in a kiss.
“so you’re saying one, tiny, quick kiss is off the table?”
“absolutely!” you squeal, “are you nuts!”
“but y/n, what about just…”
any and every ridiculous rationalization the boy came up with, you shot down with ease. no matter how many times he groaned and whined to you, even after he resorted to trying to be cute, you were able to resist.
but he also never tried to come towards you on his own, so you suppose the ruler had done its job.
❥ choi san
if you had thought he was whiney and needy before this, you were sadly mistaken. because even with the constant contact and video calls, he would still softly mumble how much he missed seeing you.
“i miss you, too,” you said, your pout matching his. “maybe…you can over tomorrow. we can hang out and go for a walk or something.”
and that proved very hard for the boy. because he kept reaching out for your hand on the sidewalk, kept trying to pull you into him and kiss you despite the mask covering your face.
“san,” you whined, looking at him apologetically before putting a few feet between you. “i want too, please don’t think i don’t,” you tell him.
because you don’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel like you’re using this as an excuse not to touch him. but you’re scared and cautious and doing it honestly more for his sake than yours.
“i can’t wait for this to be over,” he sighs, his eyes going from your lips to your hand to your eyes.
and you think if you hold his hand, your arms awkwardly stretched out to put some distance between you, that won’t too dangerous.
❥ song mingi
the first thing you see stepping out your car is mingi’s tall, lanky frame waving at you. and it’s within those two-seconds, you realize not kissing him is gonna be some of the hardest shit you’ve ever had to do.
because it’s not like he’s making it any easier.
any time you take one step back, he takes one step closer. he gives you a wide, cute smile and says he just wants to hug and kiss you for less than a minute.
“that’s a long time, mingi,” you told him. but he only shrugs his shoulder, promising you over and over again everything will be fine. but you’re standing your ground, covering your eyes when he tries everything in the book: cute, seductive, whiney, pouting.
and usually his duality is able to pay off, one of the tactics having you melt right into his hand and do anything he wants. so he’s surprised when nothing seems to be working, almost getting the idea to use his size against you and drag you into his arms.
and you see the exact moment that thought crosses his mind, reaching in your bag and wiping out the ruler you knew you were gonna need for this annoyingly handsome man.
❥ jung wooyoung
“what is that even gonna do? that’s only a foot.”
“okay, so picture five more of those and stand over there.”
“babe….” he whined, looking you over in your mask and gloves while holding a ruler pointed threateningly toward him; this had been going on since he arrived 20 minutes ago.
“wooyoung, i’m serious! go!” you flail the piece of rubber in his face, the boy half-tempted to take it out of your hand and throw it in the street.
he knew you were anxious and scared and taking extra precautions to not get sick. but he hadn’t left his home in weeks either and has been taking the same amount of precautions: so, really, what was one kiss gonna do?
“so i can’t come in the house?” he whined, taking a few steps back so you can at least put the ruler down. “you’re the one who asked me to come over!”
“because i wanted to see you,” you tell him, pout behind your mask. “i didn’t say anything about kissing.”
“i figured that was a given,” he mumbled, the scoff leaving your mouth causing him to chuckle. he looks you over once more, standing there with a mask on your face while his hangs below his mouth.
“if i’m six feet away, will you at least take off your mask?” he bargains, “i wanna see your face.”
“deal.”
and the sneaky fuck he is, the second you take it off he attempts to charge towards you; so, naturally, you throw the ruler at him and smile triumphantly when it hits him right in the chest.
❥ choi jongho
you figured given his age that the boy wouldn’t really be taking this seriously, maybe even make fun of you for being so cautious with your mask and gloves and strict schedule of not leaving the house.
but he was extremely understanding, even learned from you and only asked to hang out when you told him you were sick of being in the house and wanted to start going on walks.
the first few were great, six-feet apart as you walked through the streets talking and laughing about how you both had watched every single show on netflix. but then they more you laughed and had fun and the more he saw you smile, the more he wanted to touch you.
he missed hugging you and feeling your lips against his and smiling into the kiss when you poked at his side teasingly. he also knew it was a risk to try it, just looking at you with a longing expression before leaning in ever so slightly.
and you’d almost forgotten about everything until you remembered this is not allowed and you jumped away from him.
“hey! that wasn’t fair!” you whined. he only smirked at you knowingly, a small frown on his face before he covers his mouth with his mask.
“it was just gonna be for a second,” he mumbled, smiling when you break the six-feet apart rule to smack him in the arm playfully.
#💌#request#ateez reaction#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
146 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
beboldbevazs
BeBold! BeSexy! BeVazs!
photofuji
Kohske
troublemaker4187sworld
Unhealthy Obsessions
zxcbnm1
Untitled
foggygoatee
öz kirliliğinizi toprak örtmüyor.