#i have a habit of setting that rule with lots of video game genres and mediums
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JUST finished heishi’s route in norn9 hold on i wanna talk about whatever i just witnessed (also might have spoilers for kakeru and senri since those are the other two ive finished) (also also spoilers for amnesia memories because i always wanna talk about amnesia memories)
SO LIKE ive been playing norn9 in the slowest way humanly possible (started in 2017 and im three routes down half a decade later LOL not a bad game tho!! the soundtrack is fantastic and the comedy writing is really great even if the plot stuff so far feels a little disjointed, its just a 9 love interest game is a little overwhelming hfjdksjsfkdls) and like i have a tendency to take several month long breaks between routes as well as whatever my brain decides is a natural stopping point and last time i played heishi’s route was like. some time last year. i was unmedicated at the time so i dont remember where exactly but it was like JUST before his first attempt at a confession on the top floor/roof thing of the orb they live on, and like
i think ive mentioned before how while ive heard that Toma’s behaviour is explained in the amnesia fandiscs as his mild possessiveness being amplified by time loop wackiness, i still choose to believe he’s just Like That because i think its hilarious to add just one more strange incongruous thing to a simultaneous grounded and out there game like amnesia (like how mathematicians in this universe seem to wear a lot of belts????????). well ive decided in my head to view heishi’s route as the opposite HJFJDhjlkfdssjflkd
like RIGHT after he got his confession wiped from his memory by nanami to stop ron from shooting him, he got like WACKY like it felt like i was playing a different route with a different guy and i dunno about the fandiscs yet but in game its explained as heishi losing control over the emotions he’s been suppressing because he’s in love and stressed out but I CHOOSE to believe that the mind wipes scrambled his brain because i like. the speculative fiction implications of that JKDLSDJs
girl his bad end. girl oh my god. girl what WAS that like seriously i havent been this caught off guard by otome game love interest since I first started playing them and got Toma’d, like GIRL oh my god
the other bad ends i played werent quite this level like kakeru’s had him getting wacky cause of his mind control earring which was nuts and i loved it but it like. was foreshadowed. and i dont remember senri’s bad ending at all (as forementioned i was unmedicated while finishing it so i dont remember everything orz i do remember natsuhiko being like ‘jesus christ is that a fucking gremlin” every time he saw him tho which was hilarious) but i cant imagine it was that nuts, but girl. oh my god
everyone always talks about ron (haven’t gotten to him yet but like. looking at him in other routes i can guess how he’s gonna be. which is kind of a shame and why i dont really care for the yandere routes being obvious LOL like okay the sketchy amoral guy is sketchy and amoral. who coulda guess. im being mean sorry i think i just love wild shit happening in otome games, i just think itd be really funny if instead of being fucked up, after all his behaviour in other routes, ron was just like a normal dude in his own. keep my on my toes otome games) but i hadnt heard a LICK about heishi. actually maybe thats why it worked so well... i was so prepared for whatever’s gonna go on with ron that i let my guard down with heishi fsjkldkfjsd
gonna be like 28-53 business days until i play another route but im gonna do akito next, hope he’s normal, koharu had a reasonable time with kakeru and a great time with senri yet nanami can’t seem to catch a break orz praying for her
#i originally set a rule for myself not to start any more otome games until i finish this one#i have a habit of setting that rule with lots of video game genres and mediums#but i think im starting to embrace that maybe i dont work that way. maybe i need to switch things up often#like im 3/4s of the way through 12 jrpgs rn and maybe thats just the way i thrive#so im gonna let myself take breaks as i need them (especially with denser games lkie norn9...9 entire dudes to keep track of)#what otome game should i play in between. maybe something shorter. maybe i'll catch up on the ikesen routes or play a voltage story#i love starting video games and not finishing them for a decade
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Another World
Summary: Jungkook finds himself going down a path he never intended - and his best friend might just be collateral damage.
Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Taehyung x OC
Genre: Angst
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 7.7 K
Warnings: none
A/N: Whew. This required some research. A disclaimer for any gaming fans out there: the kind of liberties I have taken with the video games described in this fic cannot be overstated. Think Troy butchering The Illiad source material (but with good plot anyway). Set over a period of a couple of months, starting a month after Los Angeles pt. 2)
Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)
Listen to: "layla" by eric clapton
taehyung masterlist | jungkook masterlist | main masterlist
Jungkook liked gaming. He liked how immersive it was, how fast it was, how much it required him to get into character and beat the bad guys. Most of all, Jungkook liked to win. Video games were winnable, for the most part. Whether it was rules, strategy or just plain speed, gaming was about beating the bad guys and winning the game.
It may have been due to this reason that all the games he owned and played broadly followed this narrative: hero, quests, bad guys, save the world, win. When he and Dilara moved away from FIFA and Real Racing (both extremely winnable games), this was how Jungkook had introduced her to his collection and invited her to play Mortal Kombat.
Dilara hadn’t been super impressed, although she’d played without fuss. She was in London and he was in Seoul, the night beginning for her and for him, the dawn nearing. They played together, shooting, jumping, killing, running. Winning. She’d played with supreme focus (he could see her on the video at the bottom of the screen). Her eyes were trained on the screen, slight frown on her forehead that remind him ostensibly of Taehyung, her fingers moving rapidly on the console, not uttering a single word except at the beginning of the game: save the cheerleader, save the world.
Jungkook hadn’t got the reference, but she’d said it wryly, as though it was a joke only some people were meant to get. Still, she played with him and four hours later, when they were less than halfway done, she’d sat back in her chair and raised her arms over her head, stretching.
“Don’t get lazy,” he’d commanded, still in the zone. He’d tapped his headset. “We still have so many levels to complete.”
“JK,” she’d sighed. It must have been hot in London; her neck and chest were shining in the fluorescent light from the screen. She swept her long hair up into a bun and her tank top rode up slightly, suddenly revealing how tight it was.
Jungkook had looked away out of habit. It never did well to check out your friends’ girlfriends.
“Don’t you need to sleep? Isn’t it morning for you?”
It was - but Jungkook had the day off. He told her as much but she told him she had to sleep.
“In the middle of the game?” He was aghast. “How can you do that?”
She’d wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a cliffhanger. We can just pick it back up tomorrow. The next levels will be the same. Just shoot ‘em all.” She made a finger gun and pointed it at him before dropping her hand. “There’s no story. All the characters are just… graphic. There’s no emotion, no empathy, no… passion to save the world.”
He’d stared. “It’s saving the world. You need passion to do that?”
Dilara had chuckled tiredly. “Even guns and explosions can have a compelling story. Have you ever played Yakuza?”
Of course Jungkook had played Yakuza. It wasn’t bad, but it had been a lot of information to keep track of. Too many characters, too many plots. He’d played until he’d won, but only because it would’ve killed him not to.
“I have to be at the factory at eight am. I’m going to bed.” She’d pushed back her chair and stood up, and the screen filled for a moment with her chiselled torso, hips, and tan thighs from under her shorts. This time, it took Jungkook a moment longer to look away.
He’d bid her goodnight with a bit of half-hearted whining until she promised to resume play the next day. Once she’d logged off, Jungkook switched back to his screen and took a sip of his Americano, debating continuing without her anyway.
A moment later, he’d sighed and switched off the game, heading to bed.
—
The day Jungkook realised he wasn’t cut out for elaborate, story-telling games was the day he played A Way Out with Dilara.
She had told him about it in passing, mentioning that she’d also only played it once, years ago, before life had got in the way. Jungkook had been about to shut it down with glee right then but she’d seemed so mournful about never playing it again that he’d relented and bought the game, sending her an invite to login as well.
“It’s like I’m sixteen again,” she sniffed dramatically, making herself comfortable on her chair. The Red Bull logo on her oversized t-shirt came into full focus for a moment while she adjusted her camera, and Jungkook grinned in satisfaction.
“Well, you wouldn’t shut up about it so you basically forced me to buy it.”
“You know what? Even if that’s true, it’s going to be so worth it. This is the best game, JK,” she added, her face shining. “Emotional connections, moral conundrums, deep friendships…” She sighed and shook her head in wonder. “Just the best,” she repeated.
Jungkook raised his eyebrows at this display but said nothing. “Shall we start?” he asked.
“Yes. Okay, now, don’t worry about not getting the game initially,” she informed him. “I haven’t played it in forever either and I’m sure with the updates and everything, it’ll practically be a different game.
This, Jungkook supposed, was in response to a rather childish moment he’d had a couple of weeks prior where, amidst his inability to grasp the concept of the game, he’d sort of shrieked, yanked off his headphones and proceeded throw himself on the bed in the gaming room, face down for several minutes while Dilara called his name in irritation.
He scowled. “I’ll be fine. Will you?”
Dilara grinned sheepishly; she didn’t take well to losing either. “I’ll be okay. I’m Vince and you’re Leo?”
They commenced the game then. The story read more like a movie than a video game; Jungkook watched in awe as their characters, both in prison and holding a grudge against the same mobster, formed a begrudging alliance and escaped.
It was a gorgeous game; the screen, the special effects, the dialogue - he and Dilara read them out as quickly as possible, eager to move through the game.
“Oh, my God,” muttered Jungkook after a while, shaking his head slowly as Leo and Vincent, on the run from the law, made a campfire in the dead of night. “That’s why Vincent hates Harvey, too?”
“Harvey was an arsehole,” said Dilara with feeling. “There’s a reason Vincent wanted to partner with Leo, even if it meant he risked getting caught. There’s nothing like common hatred of a person to bring two people together.”
Jungkook stole a glance at her, which she caught.
“What?” she asked, chuckling and looking a bit embarrassed. “That’s the fun of these games. You have to really get into it.”
He smiled without meaning to. “I get it. He killed Vincent’s brother. Vincent gets to hate him.”
“Shut up. Ooh, look, it’s Leo’s story now.” They started reading the dialogue boxes together, Jungkook reading them out in slightly accented English, when a sound cut through the soft soundtrack.
“Helicopter!” Dilara yells. “It’s the cops! Okay, go left!”
“No, I think it’s right!” The screen changed as both characters ran through the wilderness, the animated figures running faster than Jungkook could ever hope to. “Okay, we have to get into that house, I think.”
Their characters took shelter in a hut, evading the police, and looting the place for clothes, weapons and a truck.
“It’s a car chase!” Jungkook exclaimed. “You should drive!”
“You know it’s not a real truck, right?” she called out, but still manoeuvring Vincent into the driver’s seat. “Okay, let’s go! Seatbelt on!”
“I thought you said it wasn’t real!”
“I didn’t stutter, JK!”
Jungkook snorted before getting back into character, his heart racing; if the cops caught them, they were back in prison, meaning the game was over.
“Cliff!”
“Get out of the car! There’s a rowboat! And go from behind the trees!” she added as the sounds of the police’s gunshots got louder. They hopped into a conveniently placed rowboat by the banks of a thrashing river and began steering with their controllers.
“Is that a - is that a waterfall?”
“Jump!”
“What?” Jungkook’s eyes widened in a panic. “We don’t have life jackets!”
“It’s not a real river, JK!” Dilara yelled as she threw her character into the water, escaping a gunshot by a nanosecond. “Leo knows how to swim!”
Feeling his ears get hot, Jungkook obeyed and Leo jumped. The two characters somehow made it through the river and landed on the other side, the police finally no longer in sight.
“Whew.” Jungkook exhaled and takes off his headphones for a moment, shaking his hair out of his eyes. He put them back on to see Dilara grinning in the pop out screen.
“Great game, huh?”
“Holy shit. This is what you meant by emotional connection?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “Crazy. Oh, wait - Leo’s story.” He read the dialogue again, his own tone sounding more and more surprised. “Harvey betrayed Leo, too? What a jerk!”
“Villians,” was all Dilara said by way of explanation. “Oh, look! Aww…”
Jungkook followed an instruction to call home with a nearby telephone. “Leo has a wife and kid? What is this game?” he exclaimed. “This is like - like something that should be in the Oscars! Where are the machine guns and the aliens?”
“I can see your eyes tearing up, Jeon, so don’t give me that.”
He didn’t even bother defending himself; he was more engrossed in this fully human story than he ever had been in a video game before. He glanced at Dilara again, his stomach settling comfortably when he realised he wasn’t alone.
It was a flurry of activity after that: purchasing arms, being betrayed by the arms dealer, getting in touch with a mysterious pilot from Vincent’s past who offered to fly them to Mexico to escape. The pilot also dropped another bombshell.
“Vincent has a kid?”
“Vincent is having a kid,” she corrected him. “Okay, we have an option to go to the hospital. We’re going, right? No way is Vincent abandoning his daughter before she’s even born.”
“He’s not abandoning - okay, sure,” he said quickly, catching Dilara’s surprisingly troubled expression. “It could be a trap, though.”
But Dilara ignored him, and both characters headed to the hospital. Warning bells instantly went on in Jungkook;s head, for he’d played enough video games to know what a calm spell looked like before they got attacked. But he followed Dilara until Vincent met his newborn baby girl, Julie.
“I’ve never made it this far in this game,” murmured Dilara, her voice wobbling slightly. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like this was a slight overreaction over an animated baby, but something stopped him from commenting on it.
“Gwaenchanha?” he ventured, but at that moment, a pop-up appeared on the screen, informing them that the police had surrounded the hospital.
“Told you!” Jungkook exclaimed, but his heart raced with excitement. What a game.
“I’m not sorry!” she replied as they rushed out of the hospital. “I swear to God, JK, if you and Tae are ever running from the police and I’m in the hospital giving birth to his kid, you better make sure he’s there!”
“Er, sure thing,” he assured her, before changing the subject. “Okay, we have to split up.” With no indication either way, he went right while Vincent went left. He avoided the police as best he could while continuously keeping an eye on the split screen to see Dilara’s progress as well.
She escaped; Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief and took his eyes off his own screen for a moment too long to see Dilara pump her fist in the air - long enough to get captured.
“Shit!” He’d lost the game - swallowing his disappointment, for Dilara hadn’t yet, he urged her to continue. “Go! Keep going!”
“I can’t,” she muttered determinedly, turning Vincent around and going back into the hospital with his gun loaded. “We’re in this together, mate - if you lose, we both lose.”
Despite the tension, Jungkook felt his stomach flip in excitement: he loved playing with Dilara. She was competitive, she took risks and she was good at gaming. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who matched this well with him online; it was no surprise that he constantly looked forward to their next session.
“Okay, hold still -” Dilara frowned in concentration, aiming her gun - only two bullets left - at the cop who had Leo in a headlock. Her thumb swiped over the controller ever so slightly and shot the cop straight in the head.
“You saved me!” Jungkook gasped, immediately spurring his character on and out of that damn hospital.
“Don’t sound so shocked,” she muttered, although she looked relieved as well, a grin flashing across her face.
They escaped after that, taking up the pilot’s offer to take them to Mexico, where they were ambushed by the mobster Harvey and his men. There was the old school gaming face-off: guns, fire, jumping off buildings and eliminating NPCs left and right.
“Oh, my God,” said Jungkook in surprise. “We did it. We killed Harvey.” He looked up hopefully at Dilara. “Is that it? Does that mean we win?”
“I don’t know…” The game told them that now that Harvey was dead, they could return to the US but the moment they did, they were surrounded by the police again. “Oh, no…”
“No! Come on!” Jungkook whined, frustrated now, but something was wrong. He frowned as one of the policemen, took the gem they had stolen from Harvey from Leo’s hand and handed it to Vincent… along with his gun.
“Oh, no…”
“Wait…” Jungkook frowned. “Why did the cop just -” He squinted at the screen to read the dialogue box, even though Dilara was reading it out loud. “Is - is Vincent a cop?” His eyes darted to Dilara’s picture in the pop-out. “Are you undercover?”
“Shit, I had no idea,” she murmured. “I told you I’d never reached this far in the game before.”
His stomach churned. We’re in this together, she’d said. “I’m supposed to take you hostage now,” he stated, reading the instructions. Before she could shrug in acceptance, he subdued her and ran. It ensued in a chase again, but this time between Leo and Vincent, with Leo trying to run and Vincent trying to catch him.
It’s not real. Jungkook knew, he knew Dilara knew, and he knew the game was set up to be a certain way for the story. But it still stung, being betrayed, and before he knew it, he was being chased into a warehouse by Dilara, both of them injured and losing energy.
“Some game, Komyshan,” he muttered, sighing. He didn’t know how long they’d been playing; bonding over their shared hatred of Harvey felt like hours ago, as did each of them discovering they had kids. He chanced another look at Dilara on the pop–out and paused.
Her eyes were wet, tear tracks down her cheeks. He started, suddenly wondering if her sixteen-year-old self knew that she would have to betray her ally like this.
They climbed up the warehouse and onto the roof, both their energy packs beeping to indicate they were running out. There were their guns, bright and clear. This, Jungkook knew, was the end. One of them got the gun and shot the other, and the other died at the hands of a one-time ally.
She was still crying, even as her fingers flew over the buttons on the controller. Jungkook watched, as though in slow motion, as Vincent on screen dove for the gun and pointed it at Leo, shooting him, ending the game.
“What - what did you do?” Dilara frowned, looking taken aback. “You didn’t even go for your gun. Did - did you let me win?” she demanded, sounding horrified.
“No!” But didn’t he, though? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I - I didn’t see the gun,” he explained weakly. He fell silent as the epilogue appeared on screen.
“Vincent tells Linda about Leo’s death…” she read out, swallowing, “... and goes back to his wife and newborn daughter.” Dilara blinked rapidly.
“That’s a happy ending, right?” Jungkook murmured. “He didn’t have to abandon his daughter.”
Dilara was quiet for a moment. Then she chuckled softly, without humour, not looking away from the screen. “Jesus Christ, JK,” she sighed. “It’s not real. It's just a game.”
Jungkook nodded but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen Dilara ever break down in front of him like that, even though she’d held it together reasonably well. It stayed in his mind even as he went to bed at dawn, the image of her biting her lip while her eyes swam with tears at a fictional character leaving his wife and newborn at the hospital, and he privately came to a conclusion: he was not cut out for story-telling games.
—
The worst loss Jungkook had ever faced in a video game was the night he invited Taehyung to play.
He didn’t truthfully know what he’d been expecting when he’d invited the older member to join. All he remembered was that years before Dilara entered their lives, Taehyung had been the person who stayed up with him into the wee hours of the night when they were crippled with jet lag and played video games all night.
But it didn’t feel the same. Even the way the plan came to life felt… off. They were in a supermarket in Seoul, during a serendipitous week where their tour schedule and Dilara’s F1 calendar had somehow coincided to have all of them in the same location. A get-together had been planned which Hoseok had volunteered to host, with all seven members, Seokjin’s girlfriend Seulgi, Sooah, Chaeyoung and Dilara in attendance. All the members had been delegated by Namjoon, who seemed to be making a huge effort to gather everyone together, to bring different accompaniments for the night; in the gigantic mall, five out of seven members roamed around trying to fulfil their duties.
Taehyung, Jungkook and Dilara had been dispatched to purchase liquor and mixers. On their way to the store, Taehyung bumped into a friend and, after fondly introducing Dilara as his girlfriend, encouraged her and Jungkook to go on without him.
“How are you balancing this thing?” Jungkook asked tightly, as he tried to keep the cart he was standing from bumping into any of the aisles.
“It’s called steering,” she said knowledgeably, her much smaller frame somehow managing to manoeuvre the cart with ease, almost as if she were riding a manual scooter.
“Race you to the end?”
She grinned as they positioned their carts next to each other. “Remember, we buy what we break.”
“Good thing we can both afford it.” Jungkook winked at her, half-heartedly dodging her playful kick to his shin. “Ready?”
“Go!”
They were careful to keep quiet and not attract attention, staying at the back of the store where they were the only customers. They stifled their giggles while trying to maintain their balance and simultaneously sabotage the other.
“Careful, Lara,” he called to her as her cart wobbled slightly.
“Oi, you don’t get to call me that,” she admonished him, wincing and straightening her cart. “Something’s wrong with this cart, ugh…”
“Oh, yeah? Brake failure?” he taunted her. “You can’t blame everything on your engineers, you know?”
Dilara gasped as she turned her cart at the last minute to avoid hitting a standalone shelf of bottles. “How dare you, Jeon Jungkook. I’m going to kill -” She gasped again, out of his sight this time, followed by a soft oof! from someone else. Just as Jungkook spurred his cart on to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself, he heard the giggles - both of them.
“You’re not allowed to do that in here,” he heard Taehyung’s deep voice, and his heart sank unexpectedly. “You could be arrested for that, you know?”
Jungkook appeared just in time to see Taehyung tugging Dilara backwards to him, gripping both her wrists loosely in one hand. His head was tilted towards the side of her face while she smiled in a way that made Jungkook feel as though he’d walked in on something extremely private.
Fortunately, she caught sight of him and stepped away from Taehyung, albeit still staying close. “Alright, don’t we have stuff to buy?” she asked, changing the subject. “Who has the list?”
Jungkook and Taehyung both opened the group chat to check the list compiled in it, naming different liquors out of order. “Why don’t we split up?” Dilara suggested. “I’ll go to the wine section,” she volunteered, waving at both of them and disappearing behind the aisle, leaving both boys to scan the hard liquors.
“Whiskey, obviously,” stated Taehyung, picking up a bottle of Glen Fiddich and checking the price. “Probably the first bottle Hobi hyung will ever have in his house.”
Jungkook forced a chuckle. “True. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long enough to see him at that stage of the night, though.”
“Oh, yeah? Got plans?” He raised his eyebrows mock-seriously. “Hot date tonight?”
Yeah, but it’s with your girlfriend. It was only a moment later when he looked up to see Taehyung frowning slightly at him that he realised he’d said the words out loud. “No, I just meant -” He let out another choked laugh, his heart jolting in panic. “We - well, she wanted to game tonight. We don’t have a schedule tomorrow, so…” He cleared his throat.
Taehyung paused for a moment, but then simply nodded. “I meant to ask you, Jungkook,” he said after a moment, now examining another bottle. “Is everything okay?”
“I - how do you mean?”
“I mean, like with you and me. Are you mad at me or something?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “N-no. Not at all. Why would you think that?”
Taehyung shrugged. “You’ve been a little short with me the last couple of days,” he remarked casually. “Did I do something?”
He shook his head, lost for words, for this was getting seriously out of hand. What was wrong with him? The tiredness from the tour was bound to catch up sometime but were his moods that erratic, that Taehyung could have misinterpreted them for hostility?
“No, you didn’t,” he answered honestly. “I’m just tired, I swear,” he added, throwing an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and squeezing them. “Sorry, hyung.”
Taehyung nodded, seemingly a little surprised at this reaction. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Get some sleep tonight, maybe.”
“We’re gaming tonight, though,” he answered apologetically. “You know, you should join us,” he suggested, still reeling in the mild panic that Taehyung might think he was angry with him. “We used to game all the time, before. It’s been ages since we’ve done that.”
Taehyung raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? Wait, do I still need to let you win?”
Jungkook scoffed, hugely relieved. “Don’t worry, Dilara has beaten me more than once so losing isn’t as shocking as it was before.”
Taehyung grinned and was about to respond when Hoseok appeared out of nowhere, looking distinctly unamused.
“Wasting time, are we?” Before either of them could respond, he slapped Jungkook lightly on the shoulder. “You - go get the beer. And you - wine. Now. Now,” he repeated when Taehyung opened his mouth to argue.
They exchanged a meaningful look and went their separate ways, Jungkook straight towards the fridges with the beer. After filling an entire cart with multiple six packs of different brands, he looked around for the others, finally spotting Namjoon in the middle of the store, typing on his phone.
“Hey. Got what we need?” Namjoon asked when Jungkook joined him and peered into the cart. “This is just beer. What about the rest?”
“Hoseok hyung was with Taehyung and Dilara getting that stuff…”
Hoseok joined them then. “Take me with you,” he stated to Namjoon, looking mildly traumatised.
Namjoon frowned. “What are you talking about? Have you guys got everything?” All three of them turned to see Taehyung and Dilara by the wines, seemingly in a serious conversation. “What’s going on over there?”
Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he began, “Taehyung is pretending to be a wine connoisseur giving a tour of his private winery to Dilara, a socialite who is trapped in a loveless marriage.”
Namjoon stared at him, evidently able to make neither head nor tail of this statement. “What?”
Hoseok nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, please take me with you.”
Namjoon responded, but Jungkook barely heard him; he watched Taehyung and Dilara, standing apart but still close together, their hands brushing and their gazes fixed on each other, apparently having forgotten that they were not alone.
The party was supposed to start in three hours; they simply did not have time for this right now. “I’ll get them,” he volunteered, abandoning the older members with the cart of beer and striding over to the happy couple.
“Sorry, guys,” he muttered, stepping in between them, for that’s where the Pinot coincidentally was. “Namjoon hyung sent me - he’s getting really impatient.” He pretended not to notice Taehyung’s annoyed sigh or Dilara self-consciously fluffing out her hair.
Later that night, after a pleasant evening at Hoseok’s apartment, Jungkook settled into the gaming chair in his own, ready to play Trine. In light of Taehyung joining them, Jungkook put forward the one three-person game they had in their backlog, a medieval fantasy game with Zoya the Thief, Amadeus the Wizard, and Pontius the Knight, played by Dilara, Taehyung and Jungkook respectively.
Jungkook was determined to have this session go well. He wasn’t exactly sure why or what it was, but he felt as though he had something to prove to Taehyung, probably because he was the guest during their regular two-person gaming sessions.
Trine was different from A Way Out, mostly in the sense that while the latter was a human story of moral conflict and emotional connections, Trine was, in every sense of the word, a game. Three misfits having to free themselves of a magical curse, each with their own weapons and abilities - it was straightforward and promised to be fun.
Dilara, in Jungkook’s opinion, was made to play Zoya the Thief. Zoya’s skill was archery and with her excellent hand-eye coordination, Dilara shot every single arrow exactly where she was aiming, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Jungkook and his character, Pontius the Knight, watched in awe, his sword dangling uselessly at his side - until something appeared out of nowhere and hit him in the head.
“What was that?” he demanded, his eyes darting across the screen and groaning when he saw that Pontius’s energy level had dipped. Without thinking, he slashed his sword through the air, the animated flame at the end of it rising but causing no damage.
“Pay attention!” Taehyung - or Amadeus - had evidently thrown some kind of object at Pontius. As Jungkook watched, Amadeus conjured up another similar looking object, while Taehyung grinned in the pop-out screen. Begrudgingly, Jungkook had to admit that even Taehyung was made to play Amadeus the Wizard - quick, witty and wearing ridiculous robes.
“Oi!” Dilara’s voice rang through his headphones. “You both know we’re all on the same side, right?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes as they continued through the game, entering a ruined castle.
“Okay, here goes.” Taehyung cleared his throat as a dialogue by Amadeus appeared on the screen, and proceeded to read the entire thing in a gruff, grandiose sort of voice that Jungkook supposed he considered a wizard’s. Through the dramatics, he could hear Dilara laughing at the voice and when he glanced at the pop-up screen, saw her looking at something to her side, and it occurred to him for the first time that Taehyung and Dilara were sitting in the same room.
The thought annoyed him more than he expected. This wasn’t how gaming was supposed to be done. Gaming was different timezones, dead of night, coffee runs and straining eyes - not sitting ten feet apart in the same bedroom and giggling at inside jokes.
It didn’t get better as the night went on. The game went well; in fact, they were progressing at an alarming rate, finding objects, overcoming obstacles, gaining points and keeping their energy levels at an all-time high. All three of their characters seemingly worked well together, their powers in perfect tandem.
However, Jungkook was slowly starting to regret inviting Taehyung to play - not because he wasn’t good, but because it wasn’t right. There was a disturbance; he didn’t seem to understand Jungkook and Dilara’s normal trash talk, had a habit of making rather asinine observations in the graphics of the game that more often than not, ended up leading to a clue the other two had missed, and seemed to be more interested in the personality of all three characters than the actual quest.
Most frustratingly, Taehyung was beating the game - and the other players. He seemed to be able to come up with the most absurd solutions to problems - and all of them worked. During a play where they had to get at a clue that was sneakily tucked into the ceiling, Jungkook and Dilara were looking for ways to unlock a ladder that the game was offering them for a certain number of points.
“Do you have enough energy to break through the wall with your arrows?” Jungkook urged her.
“I can try…” Dilara aimed and Zoya shot an arrow which simply bounced against the wall. “I don’t think that’s the way. And I’m running out of arrows. There has to be another way to break down that wall.”
“Okay, well, the ladder is behind it. Maybe we can blow it up?”
“You’re the one with the flaming sword.”
“Maybe I can throw it at the wall or something… burn it down…” Jungkook searched the screen frantically, passing by Amadeus, who was using his power of conjuring to simply create cube-shaped objects. “Taehyung hyung? Some help?”
“Yeah, hang on just a sec…” Taehyung, seemingly ignoring their conundrum entirely, was now stacking the objects one above the other with a slight gap between the edges, levitating the ones at the top. “There,” he said, once they almost reached the ceiling. “Use those as steps and get to the top.”
Dilara gasped and Zoya immediately sprinted up the slanting tower of blocks, easily retrieving the clue from the ceiling. “It worked!” she exclaimed in wonder, the character jumping down gracefully. “My hero,” she said dramatically, looking out the side of her screen again, which Taehyung returned with a grin and a wink at her.
Jungkook poked his tongue into his cheek. “We have, like, seven more clues left,” he said stonily, but his words were drowned in the midst of their joking and laughing. This, right here, was the problem, he reflected: he, Jungkook, had the obvious goal, which was to collect the most points and win the damn game, whereas Taehyung’s primary objective seemed to be to make Dilara laugh, the game a mere secondary.
He wondered why Dilara wasn’t more annoyed, for she enjoyed winning just as much as he did. But she seemed equally excited at the prospect of a fellow player reading out the dialogues as though they were a script, inventing a voice for Zoya and changing her accent, getting immersed in the characters and the story along with Taehyung, with Jungkook having to remind them that time was running out.
“We’re going to lose,” he stated sullenly after a while, when it seemed unlikely that they would finish before their energy packs died.
“Not necessarily,” pointed out Dilara, moving Zoya through an empty corridor to look for the last clue - the Trine.
“Found it,” said Taehyung casually, as though he had just found his sock and not the Trine that would allow them to win the entire game. “Let’s go?”
“Yes - oh, my God!” Jungkook ran down the castle, making sure Zoya and Amadeus were both following Pontius, his heart racing with the familiar anticipation of possibly winning the game.
“Ah, my controller is stuck.” Taehyung clicked his tongue as the animated Amadeus slowed down without Taehyung speeding him along.
“What? Don’t you dare make us lose this, Tae!” Dilara threatened him, when they’d almost reached the final destination, where they could see the other two artifacts they must combine with the Trine.
“Wh - I can’t help this! Lara - catch!” Amadeus flung the Trine - the Trine - to Zoya, who lunged for it at the last moment, fumbled it and dropped it just as the timer ran out.
“No!” Jungkook dropped his controller and covered his mouth in horror. “No, no no!” He glared at the pop-out screen, vindicated to see Dilara glaring out the side of her screen before she stood up and disappeared from view, reappearing in Taehyung’s video.
“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered to Taehyung, who grabbed her hands to stop her from doing any damage. It was a few more seconds before Jungkook realised they had moved on from the momentary seriousness to mock-anger, until Taehyung tugged at their clasped hands playfully and she fell into his lap, giggling.
Jungkook watched, dumbfounded, until Taehyung, laughing, said into the speaker, “This was so much fun, really. I think I’ll head to bed now, though,” he added, as Dilara got off his lap and went to her own laptop, pulling on her headphones.
“Yeah?” Jungkook muttered. “No rematch?”
“We’ve been playing for three hours,” he remarked. “You want to play more?”
“I want to win. Dilara?” he asked hopefully.
“Oh, I -” She bit her lip, apparently mulling. On the pop-out screen, Taehyung had already logged off. Jungkook stared at her, his stomach churning in premature disappointment as she looked at something off screen and visibly tried to hide a smile.
“Dilara?”
“Uh… I think I’m done for tonight, too. But let’s play Person 5 tomorrow, JK. Without Taehyung,” she added deliberately, Taehyung’s muffled protests audible in her background. “Had fun, though, love. Good night!”
Jungkook swallowed as the screen went dark. Had fun? Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever hear Dilara say that about a game she had lost, even though he had never seen her laugh this much while gaming before.
Still reeling from the loss, he went straight to his gaming menu and clicked on Real Racing. No characters, no story - just cars and speed. It was weird playing this game alone, but he needed this win right now.
Anything to not feel like a loser.
—
Sometime in the summer of that year when the group was in New York, wrapping up the America leg of the tour before starting in Europe, Dilara Komyshan DNF-ed a race.
Partly due to jetlag and partly due to the fact that it was pouring outside, almost all the members were in the suite where the race was being aired. Only Yoongi and Jimin weren’t there, the former because he was working and the latter because he was in the gym.
Jungkook had declined Jimin’s offer to work out together; he was tired, and there was the race. He would work out later, for sure. The rest of the members lounged about, doing various activities while the race played at low volume. It was beyond exciting, real-life cars going at a speed of three hundred kilometres an hour between the gorgeous mountains of Mugello, Italy.
Jungkook wished he were there; Italy had been one of his favourite countries to visit during the Red Bull collaboration last year. The views were incredible, the weather was summery, the air was pristine and the house they’d lived in had been so beautiful and rustic, with enough space outside for him and Dilara to work out together while she went through her extended break-up with Taehyung.
Jungkook sneaked a glance at the aforementioned member. Taehyung didn’t look like he was thinking about Italy last year at all; his gaze was fixed on the screen, biting his lip and tensing up every time Dilara’s car was shown on screen, as though he expected her to crash any second.
Therefore, when her car did touch another car and they both spun out, Jungkook flinched and Taehyung was on his feet instantly, eyes wide at the screen. It didn’t seem like a violent crash, but he stayed standing, the veins in his neck popping as he stared until Dilara climbed out of the car and took off her helmet.
“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, sighing hugely in relief and sitting back down, dropping his head in hands.
Jungkook frowned; of course he was glad Dilara was okay, but she was also disappointed, for sure. She had effectively lost the race - didn’t Taehyung care about that?
The rest of the race went by with far less interest from anyone in the suite, Dilara appearing briefly in the garage, having changed into jeans and a team t-shirt. From the sounds of it, the commentators seemed to agree that it was a “racing incident”, though caused by Dilara who had apparently attempted a very ambitious overtake that had gotten away from her.
Taehyung’s face was unreadable; he was flitting between looking at the screen and constantly checking his phone, most likely waiting for a text from Dilara. The race ended and the winners were celebrated, followed by post-race interviews where Dilara was asked about nothing but the crash.
“I did speak to Carlos as soon as we were out of the car,,” she said, nodding. looking a bit cornered with several mics being shoved at her. “We’ve sorted that out. It’s definitely really unfortunate about both our races; it wasn’t the intention and I wish we’d been able to continue, but at the same time…” She shrugged. “It was a gap, you know? What kind of a driver would I be if I didn’t take the opportunity?”
“Even if it was at the cost of a fellow driver?” asked a faceless journalist off screen.
“No - of course not.” Dilara frowned and shook her head. “Like I said, Carlos and I talked about it and I’m - I’m very sorry, obviously. But I tried to go for the gap and he tried to block it - we would’ve both done the same thing if the roles were reversed, I’m sure.” But she looked visibly rattled. The interview ended then and Lewis Hamilton appeared on screen for his interview.
Jungkook reached for his phone and typed out a text.
Jungkook [11:15]
I saw the race. I’m sorry. Let me know if you want to get your mind off it. We can play anything you want :)
It didn’t take long for her response to arrive. Jungkook waited, recalling how this had genuinely helped her get over a bad race earlier in the year.
Dilara [11:20]
Thanks, JK. Just don’t feel like it today though. Sorry.
As Jungkook read her message, once, twice, thrice, trying to process this and not feel disappointed, Taehyung’s phone buzzed on his lap.
He answered it immediately, jumping to his feet. “Hey,” he said softly, as he walked away towards the rooms. Jungkook stared after him as he nodded at the conversation, his voice growing quieter as he left the group, eventually going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.
A couple of hours later, after Jungkook had dragged himself to the gym and worked out harder than his body was technically allowing him, he sat at his laptop with a coffee, knowing he had only a little while before it was night in Austria.
Jungkook [14:40]
Last chance? We can play Life Is Strange. Seeing me play a teenage girl might make you feel better. I’ll do the voice too.
Dilara [14:44]
Haha. That might. Will have to take a raincheck though. Sorry.
Jungkook [14:45]
No problem. Let me know if you want to talk or anything.
Dilara [14:46]
I will. Thanks, JK. You’re a good friend. The best actually.
The message stayed in Jungkook’s mind the rest of the day, through rehearsal, soundcheck and the concert. The best. The best. He was her best friend. He’d cheered her up on a bad day, even if it was only on text, even if it was only for a moment.
Later that night, once everyone else was asleep but for some reason, he was still awake, Jungkook checked his phone. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find; it was the crack of dawn in Italy and almost the next night in Korea. The only people he knew were in remotely the same timezone as him were on this very floor of the hotel.
He turned to Jimin with whom he was sharing a room. After a long and borderline nauseating conversation with Sooah that Jungkook had accidentally walked in on, Jimin had finally gone to sleep and was now dead to the world. Jungkook reached for his laptop and opened it to Life Is Strange, connecting his headphones before the sound could disturb Jimin.
As it turned out, it was a good thing Dilara had declined taking part in this game for it didn’t seem to have a multi-player option at all. The single player was to assume the character of Max, a photography student in Arcadia Bay with the power to turn back time. It was the most cerebral game Jungkook had ever played; it was difficult, required concentration that was in short supply for Jungkook right now, and he found himself missing having a partner to solve the puzzles and quests with.
But Jungkook was a solo player, as was Max. He started feeling a kind of kinship with Max, who also seemed to be surrounded by people in her hometown and yet, played alone. The game began with Max experiencing a vision of a tornado during class that destroyed the town, following which, while stepping out to calm down, she witnessed a fellow student shoot another in the head and kill her.
Jungkook flinched at the gunshot, the sudden sound startling him, when he discovered Max’s new ability to rewind time. Upon going back in time to before the student - Nathan - shot the girl, Max saved her, a girl who was apparently Max’s childhood friend Chloe, now her partner in solving a series of mysterious deaths in the town of Arcadia Bay.
Jungkook imagined Dilara reading Chloe’s dialogue, even though Chloe wasn’t a player. Chloe had a very similar vibe to Dilara, he felt; they looked nothing alike, but there was a determination of a kind that Dilara had. Chloe was sensitive, asking for Max’s help to find out what happened to her missing friend Rachel, brave in her desire to fight the bad guys not afraid to cry when they discovered that Rachel was dead.
Jungkook sniffed but powered through; this was exactly the kind of game Dilara liked, with characters and story and human relationships and connections on screen. He got it now, now that it was Max and Chloe against the world. Best friends. He watched, played, went through every motion to keep them together, including going back in time to save Chloe’s father from dying in a car crash. When that alternate reality meant that Chloe was instead injured in the crash and paralyzed from the waist down, Jungkook didn’t hesitate: he went back in time once again, letting her father die and saving Chloe once again.
It was almost dawn when the game was coming to an end. Jungkook could tell the end was nearing because the timeline was meant to span less than a week, but he couldn’t tell where it was going. He frowned as the game took him, Max, to San Francisco for the opportunity to display her photo at an art gallery. It almost felt as though the game was getting away from him, for why had the story moved so far away from Arcadia Bay and from Chloe?
Max calls Chloe.
Jungkook read the dialogue, his heart skipping a beat, for here it was: the tornado, the one that Max had had a vision of hours ago at the beginning of the game, was here in Arcadia Bay, threatening to destroy everything and everyone.
The game took Max back to the moment she took the gallery photo and Jungkook swallowed, the lump in his throat painful as he and Max descended into a pit of alternate realities that existed as a result of them messing with time, only to come to the heartbreaking conclusion that it all began because Max had saved Chloe from being shot.
“No,” whispered Jungkook out loud, his voice breaking. This was why he hated story-telling games, he thought angrily, biting his lip and feeling his eyes fill up anyway. What was the point? You got attached to a character, to her best friend, to her family, and just when you thought you were making it, it imploded and forced you to choose between two equally important things, between freedom and the ally you made in prison, or between your best friend and your integrity.
What was he supposed to do now? Let the town be destroyed to save Chloe, a character who wasn’t even a player? That definitely wasn’t how the game was designed; he couldn’t imagine the programmers would consider that a win. No, if he had to win the game, he had to save the world. Save the cheerleader, save the world, Dilara had said, months ago. It always came down to saving the world.
Jungkook followed the instructions, his vision blurring as Max went back to Arcadia Bay while the storm approached, reuniting with Chloe when the moment of truth arrived. Jungkook’s finger hovered over the button on the controller, his face screwed up as he clicked on the option in the dialogue box.
He watched motionlessly as the animation exploded, the storm rolling in and destroying Arcadia Bay, the entire town razed to the ground. As the camera panned around the devastation, Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and let the tears stream silently down his face as Chloe appeared amidst the ruins, alive and relieved. She and Max clasped hands and left Arcadia Bay together, leaving the wreckage behind them.
—
Thanks for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)
#jungkook x oc#taehyung x oc#jungkook fanfic#taehyung fanfic#thebtswritersclub#bangtanwhq#micdropnet#k-vanity#wkcnet#bts jungkook angst#bts taehyung angst#bts v fanfic#bts jungkook fanfic
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Always You | JJK (Three)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 10.4k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,
Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous----Next
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.
“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”
“But why?”
“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”
You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.
“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”
More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.
“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”
“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”
“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”
Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.
“Like, the whole weekend.”
Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”
“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”
“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”
“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”
You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.
“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.
Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.
Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.
“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.
“Noth—”
“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.
Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”
“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”
“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”
You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.
“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.
You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.
“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”
“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.
“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.
Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.
“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.
You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?
You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.
“Look, before you scold me—”
“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.
“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.
Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”
“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”
“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.
His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.
You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.
“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.
“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.
“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”
“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”
Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”
You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.
~~~~~~
Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.
You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,
“For you, sir.”
Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.
You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.
“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.
“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.
“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.
You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.
“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.
Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.
The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.
“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.
“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.
“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.
“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.
“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”
One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.
“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.
“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.
This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.
“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”
“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.
The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.
“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.
“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.
It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.
“So cold.” You slur.
“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.
“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.
Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.
“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.
“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.
“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”
“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”
Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.
You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.
“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.
“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.
“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.
Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.
The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.
“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.
“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.
“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”
“ha-ha.”
You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.
“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.
You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?
“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.
“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.
“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.
“Hm?”
“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?
Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?
“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.
You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.
“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.
“Y/N.” he warns.
“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”
“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”
“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”
“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”
“But—”
“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.
“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”
“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.
Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.
“I’m sorry.”
You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”
“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”
You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.
“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.
“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!
You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”
“Can you just trust me? Please?”
“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”
“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”
You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.
“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”
Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”
“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”
“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”
“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.
“Okay, go for it.”
“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”
“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”
“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”
“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.
“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”
“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.
“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.
“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.
“You wanted to kiss me back then?”
“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”
Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.
“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.
The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?
“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.
“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”
“I said, what are your dreams?”
“You know them already,” he shrugs.
“Video editor still?”
“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”
“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.
Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”
You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”
“I know so.”
The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”
“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.
“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”
Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.
“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”
You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”
“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.
You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.
Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.
“Hey y/n…”
“Yeah?”
Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”
“Never.” You answer quickly.
Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.
“Would if…no, never mind.”
“Never.” You say again.
Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.
“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”
Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?
“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.
~~~~~
The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm
Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.
But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.
“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.
“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.
“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”
“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”
“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.
Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.
“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”
“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”
“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”
“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.
~~~~~~
“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.
“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”
“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.
“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.
“I have a question for you y/n…”
You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”
“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”
“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”
“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.
“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.
“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”
Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,
“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.
“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”
Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.
“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”
You can’t help but simper.
“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.
“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.
Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”
You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?
The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.
Jimin 5:30pm
Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents
Jimin 5:31pm
How is Jungkook feeling?
y/n 5:44pm
what do u mean
Jimin 5:45pm
y/n…nothing girl
y/n 5:45pm
????
Jimin 5:46pm
It’s really nothing. Anyway
Jimin 5:46pm
You and tae huh
Jimin 5:46pm
I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want
You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.
y/n 5:55pm
tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back
Jimin 5:56pm
What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?
y/n 5:57pm
Some chick named Anna
Jimin 5:57pm
Wait…Anna…?
Incoming call: Jimin
“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.
You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.
You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.
“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.
Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.
“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.
“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”
Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.
Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.
“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”
“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.
Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.
“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.
“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”
“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.
“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”
“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.
One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?
You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.
“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.
“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”
Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.
“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.
Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”
“Alrighty”
You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.
Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.
“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.
“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.
“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.
“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”
“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”
“Why do you have to call me out like that?”
Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.
“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.
“Not happening.” You say more seriously.
Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.
“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”
“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”
“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.
“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.
Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.
New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.
“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”
You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.
The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.
Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.
You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.
You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.
“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.
“Dare, obviously.”
“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”
“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.
“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”
“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.
“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”
And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,
“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.
“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.
“I dare you to kiss y/n.”
“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”
“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.
“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.
“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”
You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.
“I dare you to kiss y/n.”
Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.
You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.
“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.
“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.
“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”
“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.
Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.
“Mom…” Taehyung warns,
“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”
“Mom.”
“Okay okay.”
You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?
“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.
You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.
“Small town.” Taehyung explains.
“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”
“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”
“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.
You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.
“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.
“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.
“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.
“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.
“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.
“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”
“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.
“Well for good reason. Right?”
“Huh?”
“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”
“If it’s about my best friend—”
“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”
Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?
“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”
“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”
“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”
“what do you want to know?”
“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”
Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”
“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”
“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”
You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”
“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”
“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.
“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”
You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.
“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”
“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.
“Being left?”
Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.
“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”
You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin.
“Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”
Surprising you, he scoffs.
“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”
Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.
“y/n…”
“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.
“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”
“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.
“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.
Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”
“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.
“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”
Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.
“Soon.” He promises.
“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”
“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.
“W-What?”
Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”
~~~~~
“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.
“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.
“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.
“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”
Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.
“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.
You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”
Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.
“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.
“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”
“Sure.”
~~~~~
The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.
“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.
The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.
“y/n?”
You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.
“Yes?” you whisper.
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”
“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.
“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.
“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.
Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.
“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.
You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.
“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.
“Sure.”
“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”
Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.
“Tae—”
“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…
“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Why would it be wrong?”
“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”
You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.
“Tae…” you whine out
Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.
“Please.” You beg for more.
“But wait—”
“Please.” You repeat.
Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…
Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.
“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.
Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.
“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.
“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.
Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.
“That feel good sweetheart?”
Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.
He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.
“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”
Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”
“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”
Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.
~~~~~
The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.
The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.
Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.
Anna 10:08am
You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.
You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.
Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.
“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.
“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.
You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.
You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.
You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.
“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.
“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”
“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.
“That too.” You giggle.
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.
“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.
“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.
“What?” you choke out.
“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”
“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”
Jungkook visibly relaxes.
Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.
“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.
“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.
“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.
Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.
Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.
You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.
Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.
The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.
“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”
“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.
“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.
Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.
“I want these off, is that okay?”
You only nod your head.
“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.
“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.
“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.
The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.
“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.
Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .
Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.
“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.
“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.
“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.
Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.
“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.
“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.
His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.
Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.
“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.
You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.
“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.
“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.
“Need you to come with me baby”
You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.
You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.
“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.
He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?
You just fucked your best friend.
Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?
#bts#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#kim taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst
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heaven’s winter (m)
RATING: M
GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst
PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)
WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot.
also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.
SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.
WORD COUNT: 18,600
NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!
it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!
(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)
((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))
(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))
((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier get to work.))))
Part One
The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.
“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.
“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.
Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”
You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.
You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”
You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”
“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”
“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”
“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.
“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”
You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.
“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.
You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”
“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.
You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.
“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.
The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.
In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.
“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”
“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”
Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.
You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”
He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”
Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.
Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.
You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.
His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”
It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.
What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.
A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.
You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.
Part Two
It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.
"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.
“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.
You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.
“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.
“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”
Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.
“Good luck!”
“Watch your surroundings, little one.”
“Come home and don’t wander off!”
You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.
When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.
“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.
“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”
You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”
You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”
She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”
“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”
You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.
“Taehyung…”
“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.
“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”
You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.
You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.
Part Three
Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.
You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak.
You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.
Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.
You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.
And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.
It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.
But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.
You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.
It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.
"Don't dilly-dally!"
"Come straight home."
"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."
Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.
So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.
When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.
The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.
Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.
You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...
But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.
Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.
All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.
Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.
You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.
The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.
These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.
“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.
So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.
The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.
More howls from them, more cries from you.
You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.
Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.
It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.
The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.
The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.
It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.
And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.
Part Four
Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.
Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.
It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.
The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.
Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.
He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.
He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…
You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—
“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.
“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.
Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.
“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.
“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”
It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.
The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”
At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.
“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”
“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.
His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.
“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.
“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.
You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”
“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”
You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.
Part Five
You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?
Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.
There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.
“Ah, human. You’re awake.”
You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.
“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”
You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”
He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”
The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.
“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”
It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”
You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.
You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”
Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."
Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"
"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.
"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."
You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...
"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"
Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."
That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.
In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.
“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.
He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.
Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”
And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”
Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.
He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”
Part Six
It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.
Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.
That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.
Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.
Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).
You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.
You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.
Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.
❋
Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.
"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.
"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.
"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."
It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.
"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"
"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."
You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"
"Because I was hurt."
"How were you hurt?"
"Next question."
"What are you reading?"
"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."
"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.
Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"
You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."
His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."
"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.
"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."
And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.
"Nothing is more important than the things you want."
Part Seven
After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.
It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.
One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.
You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.
Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.
You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?
Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"
No reply.
You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"
Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.
As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.
You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.
Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.
A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.
And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.
"What were you doing, human?"
Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"
"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.
Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"
His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.
"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"
Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.
You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"
"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.
Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.
"Leave." So you do.
Part Eight
You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.
Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.
Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.
You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.
Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.
You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.
You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.
"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."
You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.
"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.
"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"
He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"
Confused, you nod.
"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."
You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."
You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.
His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."
Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."
Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.
"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"
You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"
Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.
In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.
You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.
Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.
Part Nine
The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.
The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.
In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.
“That was a horrible shot,” he said.
The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”
“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”
You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.
“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.
“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.
“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”
“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”
“Watch this.”
Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.
“Shoot.”
And it landed perfectly.
He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.
❋
A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.
"Do you like storms?" You asked.
"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"
"I like when there's thunder and lightning."
Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.
"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.
He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."
It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.
Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.
"Yoongi..."
"Yes?"
"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."
"That's wrong but that's me."
"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"
"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"
You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"
"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.
Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.
"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.
When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.
In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."
"Alright, time for bed."
You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.
❋
You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.
Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.
He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.
The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.
Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”
“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”
“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.
Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”
His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.
“You must miss him then.”
“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.
You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.
“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”
You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.
“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.
“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”
“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”
“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”
“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”
“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”
And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”
“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”
He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”
Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”
“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”
“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”
Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.
“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”
Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”
So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.
“Do you love him?”
“W-What?
“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”
You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”
A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.
Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.
“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”
You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.
Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.
Part Ten
On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?
You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.
❋
You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.
He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.
Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.
Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.
You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.
Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.
Final Part
You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.
The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.
“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.
“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”
If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.
“Would you like to join me?”
He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”
“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”
You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.
“Your family will be so happy to see you.”
You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.
“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.
Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.
Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”
At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”
He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”
And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.
You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one.
But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.
You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.
“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”
Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”
Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.
It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.
“No.”
“Why don’t you ask for more.”
“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”
He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”
“No.”
“Is it him? Taehyung?”
Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.
He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”
You don’t waver, “No.”
A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.
You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.
“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.
He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.
“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.
“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”
“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”
His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”
The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”
The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.
“My love, look at me.”
His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.
Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”
“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”
He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.
“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.
He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”
He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.
“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.
Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.
“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”
“Let’s talk about it after?”
“Mmm.”
He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.
He admits, “I like when you touch me.”
“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”
“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”
So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.
“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”
He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”
You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”
That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.
“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.
The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.
“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”
“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”
“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.
“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”
“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.
“Yoongi!”
“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”
Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.
“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.
You whimper, begging for mercy.
“Look. At. Me.”
Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it.
He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.
“How do you feel, lovely?”
You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.
“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.
Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.
“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”
“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”
His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”
Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.
Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.
“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.
“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.
He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”
Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.
“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”
“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.
“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.
“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.
“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.
“Now you’re just bragging!”
“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.
The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.
“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”
“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”
“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.
“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.
He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”
Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”
Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”
Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”
“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”
His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”
“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.
“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.
“Is this better, Y/N?”
“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”
His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.
Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”
His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.
“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”
The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.
Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”
“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”
Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.
The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.
You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.
“A lot,” you complain.
“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”
Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.
“Yoongi?”
“Yes?”
“I need to go home tomorrow.”
His heart sinks, “Oh?”
“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”
“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.
“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”
Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah. And Yoongi?”
He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”
“More than anything.”
He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.
“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.
Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.
Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.
a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.
❋ masterlist ❋
#bangtanarmynet#btsguild#btswriterscollective#ksmutclub#ficswithluv#fantastical tales for curious souls collab#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi fic#yoongi smut#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenario#bts#bts smut#bts fic#bts imagine#bts scenario#kpop#kpop smut#kpop scenario
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🚍 unsuspecting sunday afternoon 🚍
by me, xyzcekaden!
a pokemon fanfic about when the one you hate to love is made for you
How capable is the human heart now?
fandom: pokemon, gen 3, advanced generation
characters: ash, may, steven stone in a “supporting” role
ship: advanceshipping
genre: romance, angst
themes: friendship, pre-relationship, slowburn, 6+1 if you squint
setting: modern, hoenn, pokemon universe lite
word count: 4.6k
rating: T
read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!
A/N (9.7.201): So this has been in my drafts since about April 2020 😅 Sure, I'm happy to finally share something new with the small yet strong advanceshipping fandom; but more than that, I'm relieved this document can no longer taunt me with its incompletion, hahaha. Do let me know what you think! Especially with this opening formatting; I'm trying something new. :)
Nothing sensitive in the fic, but the characters are all adults so it felt fitting to rate it T. Title taken from the song of the same name by the Backstreet Boys, and its lyrics/sentiments are interwoven throughout. The narrative is inspired and framed by monstaxnight's anonymous ask. If you recognise it, it doesn't belong to me. Thanks for reading!
~~~
fall for someone whose body would start fires
On a Saturday, May asked Ash to come over the next day. “I need a second opinion on something,” she had said. “It’ll be super quick.”
Of course, ‘super quick’ means Ash has enough time to set his switch up on May’s gigantic living room tv and play a few rounds of his favourite fighting video game while she gets ready for something or another in her room. He always acts like he has better things to do than help her with her sundry weekly ventures, but they both know he’d rather do ‘nothing’ with her than ‘something’ on his own somewhere else.
“Okay, Ash, are you ready?” May’s voice rings out. “Yeah,” he answers distractedly, strategically button smashing.
“So I kept the jeans from this last outfit, but this top I just got two weekends ago and haven’t had a chance to wear yet,” May narrates as she exits her room. “I had the, frankly, brilliant idea of using the jacket from Outfit 1 and pairing it with those heels you paid for for my birthday, et voila!”
The clacking of heels stops at the entrance of the hallway. “What do you think?’
Ash redirects his attention to May. His avatar dies on screen, just like his voice dies in his throat.
“You, um, you look great.”
In actuality, May looks smoking hot, but that’s not new for either of them. His best friend is supremely attractive, and he knew it and had no problem acknowledging it normally. This time, however, May doesn’t just look physically great, she also looks like she feels like she looks great. He doesn’t know how much sense that makes; but there is decidedly something different, and Ash feels a strange sense of dread in his chest.
May beams, taking the inarticulate response in stride. “Well that’s a winning endorsement if I ever heard one! Now let’s just hope Steven has as great of a reaction.” She turns to one of the many full-length mirrors stationed around her condo and reviews the outfit with a critical eye.
This brings Ash out from his stupor. “‘Steven’?” he repeats as he sits up on the couch. “You’re going on a date?”
“It’s not a date,” May replies in a tone that clearly conveys that she would not be opposed to it turning into a date. “My dad is having dinner with an old business partner, and the guy’s bringing his son along, so me and Max were invited, too. We were kinda friends back when we were young, but it’s not like we’ve kept in touch or anything. I just figured I should make a good second first-impression… You know, for my dad’s sake.”
Ash can tell the last bit was just something she’s telling herself to rationalise why she’s trying so hard, and it doesn’t sit right with him. He slinks back down on the couch dejectedly and halfheartedly starts a new game.
He finds himself wondering how often they hung out and how much whatever-that-number-was-teenth impressions were worth. He hopes it’s a lot.
~~~
fall for someone who always runs from his kiss
“… And I was right! They were roommates!” May boisterously ends her story, almost losing her ice cream to physics as she wildly gesticulates.
They’re just strolling around the park that’s honestly nowhere near either of their apartments; but over the years, it became their park anyway. They didn’t even set plans to hang out today, but it kinda just happened―a recurring theme in their friendship, admittedly.
For his part, Ash hides a smirk with a lick to his own ice cream, not bothering to say or do anything to protect her treat. If she hasn’t learned by now, she never would. “Oh my god, they were roommates,” he deadpans instead.
May sends him an unimpressed smirk and lightly smacks Ash’s shoulder. He yelps. She yanks her hand back as soon as she realises, but the damage is done.
He blinks down at the cold, vanilla, rainbow-sprinkled stain before raising his gaze to meet May’s equally stunned one.
They stare in silence for a moment, then May cracks a conciliatory grin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry?”
He shrugs it off easily. “I probably deserved it,” he says, making peace with the knowledge that his previous unwillingness to protect her ice cream from any accidents is the undoubted origin for his current poor luck. He nods toward the path. “Shall we?”
“We passed by a restroom a little bit ago. We can clean you up,” May disagrees, tugging on his arm in the opposite direction.
“‘S fine,” he argues as he tries to continue walking forward.
“Ash, it’ll stain!” She tugs harder.
“It’ll be an improvement!” He’s overpowering her, but not as easily as he’d like.
“Why are you being such a butthead about this!?” She’s pulling with all her strength now, this being a matter of pride to her at this point.
“Come on, May!” Ash heaves one last time.
They tumble head over feet onto the ground, but that’s not the reason Ash feels like his world has turned upside down.
May’s body weighs comfortably on his, his hands naturally settle on her waist with hers on his chest, and his brown eyes bore into her blues. Their ice cream has fallen… somewhere, but Ash doesn’t concern himself with that considering this is the closest they’ve been since they first met.
They’ve been toeing this line since then, too.
I’m gonna do it, he thinks to himself.
He closes his eyes.
He leans in.
May scrambles away.
Ash sits up and blinks at the sight of May’s confused, furious eyes. “Ash, what are you doing?” Her voice croaks like her throat is dry. It makes him clear his own before dumbly responding, “I was trying to kiss you.”
“Why??” she asks, her voice strangled. He pushes himself off the ground warily as he watches her hold herself, bite her lip, shake her head in a panic; and somehow in all of that, he understands.
“I thought it wasn’t a date.” Ash tries so hard not to sound accusatory, but her wince in response proves it didn’t work. It also proves his fear correct.
He turns, hiding as if the people walking by could discern his transgression and shame by the sight of his face alone. Besides, his mind can conjure up an image of her running away just fine on its own.
Ash notices the remnants of their impromptu outing splattered on the ground near his feet. He picks up what he can and stomps over to the nearest trash bin, throwing it in as hard as he can to let out some of his frustration.
He hopes he hasn’t gone and screwed everything up.
~~~
fall for someone whose lips belong to someone else
They don’t talk about it, and then it’s too late.
“Ash, this is Steven,” she tells him softly, as if it could make up for how it feels like the sight of her arms wrapped around the guy’s torso and his arm casually thrown over her shoulder assaults him every time he blinks.
“Steven Stone. It’s great to finally meet you. May speaks of you highly,” Steven introduces with a dignified air. Not pompous, no; he is just someone who was raised being told that he was going to do important things and who happened to believe it.
They shake hands, and Ash’s fingers feel cold, a marked contrast to how there’s something in his chest that’s burning.
Inside the restaurant, the waitress asks if a table is okay, and no one asks for a booth instead. In his seat, Ash is neither directly in between nor directly across from the newly-established couple, and he wonders if this is where all his luck went into.
Lunch goes better than expected.
Ash was prepared to hate the guy, but what is there to hate? Steven has a decent sense of humour, loves pokemon but loves rocks even more, and is COO of the biggest enterprise in Hoenn. He is a safe, sensible choice. This guy isn’t going to break May’s heart.
As the meal winds down, Steven offers to pay for everyone; but Ash still has his pride. In the end, he manages to negotiate paying for just his own plate and drink, knowing he has no right to battle for the privilege of paying for May’s.
He wouldn’t even do so on a typical occasion anyway; but as far as Ash is concerned, Steven’s presence throws all of the friends’ typical rules of engagement out the window.
They say goodbye and part ways in front of the restaurant.
A few steps later, Ash snaps his fingers as he recalls something. He turns around to remind May of their movie plans in a few days, and he is met with the sight of the couple sharing a sweet kiss on the corner while waiting for the light to change.
Steven could never break May’s heart, but he sure can break Ash’s.
Ash turns back and continues walking. He hopes May can remember on her own.
~~~
fall for someone whose touch is way too much
May insists that nothing has changed between them, but clearly something has because Ash doesn’t remember ever being so anxious about her proximity before.
He had always been aware of her, though. Always. When your first meeting is saving the other from getting run over by a tour bus, you quickly develop the habit of keeping track of where the person is at all times.
Between his athleticism and her natural proclivity towards tactileness, casual physical exchanges quickly became their norm: hugs and high fives, friendly elbows in the rib after a good joke and sharing a blanket as they watch a movie, (lingering touches on the shoulder and holding hands even after they’ve escaped a crowd… or did he make those up?).
They were controlled yet unmistakably affectionate markers of their relationship.
But now?
When she shifts one centimetre closer to him in line at the mall food court, he accidentally overpays by fifty pokeyen out of distraction. When she grabs his fork out of his hand to try a piece of his takoyaki, he jerks so hard at the contact that he spills his soft drink all over the table. When she pats him dry using flimsy food court napkins with a joke about ice cream in her voice and fondness in her eyes, he needs to claim a rapid-onset fever in order to give himself an excuse to cut their lunch short immediately.
These innocent touches have been an ever-present facet of their friendship since basically the beginning; and even when he realised he was in love, they hadn’t affected him like this.
Things are different now, despite what she says.
Well, maybe not things; maybe just him.
He had allowed himself to revel in their familiar touches when she was single because he could, because there was no one else that she was supposed to be able to make feel like this. Even if the feeling wasn’t meant for him, it wasn’t meant for anyone else either.
But now.
He can’t, in good conscience, allow his heart to rush and his smile to form and his hand to squeeze back. It wouldn’t be fair to May, not when she’s trusting him with her friendship and he’s taking more from her than that.
Even though he’d like nothing else than to keep that closeness, to go back to how it was between them before, this is the way it has to be now. He just hopes she can understand.
~~~
fall for someone he doesn’t want to feel for
On sleepless nights, he wonders when.
He knows the who, what, why, and how; but the when eludes him.
...
They were both breathing heavy, attention focused on the spot of the road where the girl would have flattened like a pancake if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hero complex.
The clapping of a few passers-by snapped them out of their shock and into the realisation that he still had her protectively cradled to his chest.
They quickly broke apart, and he took the time to wave off the praise from the gathered crowd while she checked her purse to see if everything was inside.
“You got everything?” he asked after people’s attentions finally turned back towards their own lives.
“Yeah, I do,” the girl replied, and her voice was rather cheery considering the ordeal she just survived. (He would later learn that was her default.)
“Great,” he said, genuine yet awkward.
They continued staring at each other. The adrenaline from their brush with danger hadn’t worn off yet; his heart was still beating very fast.
“So, um, have a good day,” he bade after it was clear neither of them had anything more to say. He made to return to his errands, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
“You saved my life, and you’re just gonna walk away?” she asked incredulously.
He blinked at her. “I’ll be honest; I wasn’t aware there was an after-action protocol for this sort of situation.”
She was incredulous for only a second before she giggled at him. “The least I can do is buy you lunch to say ‘thank you.’”
“Well, I’ve never turned down a free meal,” he accepts with a grin.
She giggled again then stuck out her hand. “My name’s May.”
“Ash.”
...
No, it wasn’t then. Nor was it during the meal they shared, nor at the bar where they happened to see each other that weekend, nor while they were escaping from the bar fight that she accidentally instigated that night.
...
“Is this going to become a running gag? Will I have to constantly be saving you from trouble you unintentionally get yourself into?” Ash panted after he directed her to duck into a nearby alley.
“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, this automatically makes me the most interesting friend you’ve got,” May countered.
He took one extra second to check no one was following them then cut a glance at her. “I don’t know about you, but most of my friends have my number.”
She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Smooth.” They switched phones and exchanged numbers.
“Better memorize that by heart,” he jested as he handed her her phone back. “Don’t wanna waste your one phone call at the station just because you mixed up the last two digits by accident.”
“If the next time you hear from me is because I went and got myself arrested, just leave me to rot. I must have earned it,” she smirked.
...
Luckily, the next time one of them reached out to the other wasn’t to bail the former out of jail. May invited him to a pool party for her birthday, where he handily won a water balloon fight and impressed everyone by fixing the grill for their barbeque. Their friendship continued to progress naturally: movie nights that turned into impromptu sleepovers, brunches that turned into walks around town. Several shopping trips and video games and hikes later, they were each other’s best friends. It was basically inevitable.
So when? When would he have had the chance to fall in love with her?
...
“Hello?”
“Ash, you picked up!” she sounded surprised―happy, but surprised―and he winced. He knew he’d been blowing her off a little more often lately, but making her think he’d turn down her phone call?
“Heh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said, betting on the hope that she somehow implicitly understood everything he was apologising for. “Is everything okay?”
For an extended second, she was quiet, then she said, “I need to tell you something.”
His hackles rose, and he started grabbing his keys and putting on his shoes. Maybe she finally ended up in jail. “Where are you? I can be there in ten minutes, maybe twenty with traffic―”
She giggled, and he paused. That was her nervous giggle. “May?” he asked, still wary but not about to race out of his house with only his boxers on.
“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… Steven told me he loves me.”
His breath left his lungs.
“And I told him I love him back,” she continued.
All the adrenaline that had surged through his body only moments before completely left him at her words, and his limbs locked up instead. He felt cold.
“Hello?”
He didn’t even realise he had sunk to his knees until he meant to take a step back towards the
couch. He just slumped onto his butt. “That’s―” He had to clear his throat. “That’s gotta be recent.”
He could slap himself. He sounded as dead as he felt. He tried again: “I mean, that’s great news, May! He’s a lucky guy. Yeah.”
She sighed with relief. Could Steven tell what her sighs meant over the phone? ”I’m the lucky one, I think,” she said happily, and that was his last straw.
“Heh, yeah, well,” he sputtered out, just to have something to say. “Listen, since you’re not in danger or anything, uh, you actually caught me at a bad time, so I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
“Wait, Ash! Before you go!”
He held back a sigh. “What’s up, May?”
“It’s just… You’re right; it is recent. You’re actually the first person I told.”
“I’m honoured.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that spilled out, but he backtracked quickly. “I mean it. Thank you for telling me.”
“Of course, Ash; I tell you everything. At this point, it’s like I have to; nothing would ever feel real otherwise.”
He shut his eyes. He really couldn’t take this anymore. “I know what you mean. Same here.”
She made a cute sound, a quiet little ‘hmm,’ and that was when the first tear spilled out. “Alright, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll text you later!!” she promised.
“Later,” he repeated, both an echo and a goodbye; and finally, blissfully, he ended the call.
...
When, when, when?!
That was supposed to be one of the sweetest moments of her young adult life, and she called on him―trusted him, even―to be happy for her. When did he get to the point where he couldn’t even do that? Instead, he recalls it now as he struggles to fall asleep, playing the memory at half-speed over and over again in his imagination, and all he does is hope.
He desperately hopes it’ll stop hurting so much.
~~~
fall for someone with the sweetest rebel heart
When he finds out he didn’t get the promotion he was vying for at work, there’s no one else’s comfort he sought but May’s.
“I’m sorry that happened, Ash,” May soothes as she rubs rhythmic circles into Ash’s back. They’re in her condo, noticeably nicer maintained than Ash’s flat, side by side on the sofa. It is the first time he’s let her touch him in weeks, and he really needs it. “At least now they know you’re interested? It might be your turn next time.”
Ash snorts but nods anyway. He’s usually the type to look at the bright side, but it would be an understatement to say that he is simply disappointed. After all the L’s he’s been taking in his personal life, he had been hoping at least something would go his way professionally.
May continues, “Just make sure not to let this setback actually set you back. Keep putting your best foot forward, and I know you’ll win those guys over… just like you did with me!” She ends with a wink, trying her hardest to inject some levity into the situation.
Just like that, Ash’s mood sours even more. “You can’t say that to me, May,” he angrily replies as he shuffles out of her hold.
“What are you talking about?” she pouts as she feebly tries to get him to lay back against the couch so that the cold air can’t get under the blanket they are sharing.
“I didn’t ‘win you over,’ clearly.” He shrugs off her touch and scoots away. He has spent so long trying to keep his bitterness inside, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to regulate himself right now. He’s tired of trying to get over things that make him upset.
May frowns, the furrow between her brow getting deeper as she sits up straight on the sofa. “Ash, why are you talking like that? I meant, like, how we became friends, obviously. I didn’t grow to love you by accident.”
Ash stands then, balling the blanket up and throwing it back on the couch. “I bet Steven wouldn’t be too happy to hear you say that.”
She follows suit, her voice elevating in volume as if to match. “I bet Steven wouldn’t appreciate being judged by someone who’s only met him once―despite my efforts otherwise, might I add.”
“I bet Steven would love to hear his girlfriend say she loves another guy.”
“I bet Steven isn’t dumb enough to think I can’t love you both.”
“You don’t love me, May!” Ash finally explodes.
He has never raised his voice like this, not to her, but he’s tired. He’s tired of loving someone he can’t have, he’s tired of hating himself for it, and he’s tired of the guilt when he takes it out on her despite all his attempts not to.
She looks like she’s torn between yelling right back or kicking him out; and before she could make up her mind, he collects himself enough so he could bring his voice down. He states simply, “Not the way you love Steven.” Not the way I love you.
He doesn’t say it, but he can tell she hears it anyway. He clears his throat and turns around, trying to hide without running away. “Hearts don’t work like that,” he murmurs into the room.
He makes to leave, but May’s hand on his shoulder stops him. She forcibly turns him back to face her, and Ash is shocked at the determined set to her face. Her eyes, bluer than a water stone and twice as powerful, hold him as captive as they always have. “You listen to me, Ash Ketchum.” Her tone brokers no argument. “If you thought for a second that I stopped loving you because I fell in love with Steven, you clearly underestimated what my heart is capable of.”
Her grip on him tightens, as if making sure he is still with her in the moment. “It’s big enough for the both of you; and if that’s not the way hearts are supposed to work, then I’ll just be the exception that proves the rule.”
She pulls him into a hug then, like locking that promise between them, and he dares let himself hope she means that.
~~~
fall for someone whose heart needs sewing up
Ash wasn’t expecting a knock on his door this late at night, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see a beautifully made up May Maple standing in the hallway, mascara-tinged tears and runny nose notwithstanding.
"Steven is moving to Alola to support Devon Corp’s expansion," is all she said, but even that much is hard to make out through her watery voice.
The news sinks in, and Ash’s heart feels like someone moved it three centimetres to the left: still there, still functional, but not at all where he needs it to be.
"You’ve always talked about going to Alola," is the only way he could respond, thinking of all the times they’ve imagined taking a week off and vacationing in the tropical region. He won’t, can’t let himself think about anything else or else he’d break down.
In his heartbreak, he cannot recognise May's tears, which are too raw and too loud to be that of someone bearing regrettable news. These are the tears of a confused, broken heart.
"Ash, I'm not going," she sniffles, still stiffly standing outside his door. "He asked me not to."
Finally understanding that he misunderstood, Ash is even more disoriented than he was before. "Why would he do that?" he asks, obviously still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening.
"I don’t know!" May yells while clenching her fists and stomping a high-heeled foot. It is the most movement she's made since he opened the door. "I demanded a reason, and he spewed nonsense at me! He said―" and she stops. Her whole body slumps back into stillness but without the stiffness of before. She continues quietly, "He said he didn’t want to see what I’d look like with my heart so far outside of my chest," like a guilty confession. Ash is at once reminded of their almost-fight a month ago, and he still isn’t sure what this all means.
He almost asks, Why wouldn’t he believe your heart was right where you were? or How capable is the human heart now? but he doesn’t.
Instead, he finally welcomes May inside. He sits her on the couch and helps her take off her heels before she wraps herself up in the blanket he keeps there―a blanket he only has, he remembers, because when she first visited his apartment, she insisted his couch needed one. She doesn’t just hold the blanket around her shoulders; she hides her entire frame within its folds. He merely sits on the couch next to the lump and places a solitary hand on top, unsure where it was resting yet hoping it is providing comfort nevertheless.
He wonders if May ever let Steven see her like this, the way she needs to shut out all stimuli as if to physically recreate her darkest moments. He wonders why he loves that she does that, even though it causes him so much selfish pain to be close enough to see her like this but shut out from her healing.
"I don’t think I have a boyfriend anymore," May says at length, voice dampened by the space and fabric between them.
It would have been the happiest news of Ash’s adult life if it weren’t for the extreme melancholy that laced her tone as she said it out loud.
He squeezes his hand into a fist on top of the blanket, his signal that he’d like to hug her if he could.
"I would have missed you if you left." Ash gives a nonsequitur-confession in response. May burrows deeper into the blankets and says nothing.
Instead, she reaches a hand out from a heretofore unseen opening in the fabric and holds on to his other hand tightly.
Ash stares at her slender knuckles, made paler from her firm grasp, and stops hoping.
He gently plies her fingers from his palm and tries not to feel guilty about the shocked, embarrassed way the hand pulls back into the blanket as he leaves her there.
The love of his life needs compassion right now. This is not his opportunity to sweep her off her feet; this is not his second chance.
He returns from the bedroom, settles back into his place on the couch, and forces May out of the blanket.
~~~
May jerks her head up, shocked and angry and still embarrassed from her rejected attempt to seek Ash’s comfort, but she is quickly mollified into confusion. The expected sight of Ash’s lit up form in his lit up living room ends up being no different from the blackness from which she thought she was rudely taken.
It is so dark under the extra, larger blanket that she can’t even see Ash’s nose even though she can sense his head is mere inches from hers.
His hands find hers in the darkness and squeeze. Relief flashes through her as she finally surrenders to the deep, thick slice of heartbreak.
May wants to see his face, but she settles for a hug.
#pokemon#pokemon fanfiction#advshipping#advanceshipping#ash ketchum#may maple#aamaylove#satoharu#unsuspecting#xyzc*
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Namgi in Heat (Hybrid!Yoongi x Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader)
Type: Headcannon
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader, Yoongi x Reader, Namjoon x Yoongi
Word Count: 2k +
A/N: Who wants some Daddy Joon and Yoongi oppa?
To the anon who requested a Hobi oneshot ages ago: idk if you’re even here anymore, I’m sooooo sorry, I’m definitely going to write it, please accept this till I do?
· You were not the type of person that commanded a lot of attention when you walked into a room. With your small stature and unassuming look, you could blend in quite easily in a crowd. Your h/c coloured hair cascaded down your shoulders in soft waves, making you seem even smaller than you were and your large e/c coloured eyes, despite being one of your best features, were not domineering enough for people to notice you. Simply put, you were a meek girl who was quite often overlooked in the grand scheme of things
· At least, that was what you were hoping for
· All of this changed when your two bulky testosterone filled alpha male hybrid boyfriends walked in behind you. There was no way in hell that anybody could not notice them. Their very presence brought about a horde of awestruck gazes, accompanied by a certain amount of fear, truth be told. You suppose this was not completely unaccounted for. You felt the same way when you first met them, but that’s a story for another time.
· Kim Namjoon was a Wolf hybrid. As a human, he was a calm and collected guy but since his personality traits were also ruled by his animal side, his cunningness and passive aggressiveness were also quite noticeable. He stood at a good height of 6 feet and 2 inches, and even his now freshly coloured blonde hair (which you had insisted on) did not do much in the way of making him appear a bit softer. His tall, structure usually scared off people from the get-go. His usual attire consisted of a black leather jacket with his hair swept off his forehead in a perfect curl, and thick rimmed glasses
· Min Yoongi was a good few inches shorter than Namjoon, but could, in no way, be overlooked. He was a Siberian husky hybrid with small ears peeking out from his head of fluffy black hair, but that was just about the only thing anybody could label as cute about him. He was more muscular than Namjoon was, and still taller than you (and most other people). Tattoos adorned one entire arm of his and extended all the way down to his torso, and the one that he was most proud of was the bold lettering of your name scrawled across his chest. He had a silver nose ring, and one instance of eye contact with him was enough for people to run for cover. Might be a little insensitive of you to say, but he was the kind of guy that people would cross the road to avoid.
· You have no idea how you ended up with them.
· Despite their appearances, what people failed to realize was that in reality, these two were actually just pure balls of fluff. They were sweet, caring, and highly appreciative of you. They were never rude or violent to anyone unless absolutely necessary, even though both their breeds had these tendencies. Namjoon’s favourite food was spaghetti, for God’s sake. Yoongi loved babies. If that wasn’t enough to convince someone, you don’t what would be.
· The only way they had ever displayed their anger was sulking around the house, or giving you large sad puppy eyes until you caved in and finally bought them whatever junk they were craving (or spaghetti, in Namjoon ‘s case). After that, they would huddle around you all night and nuzzle against your neck to show their appreciation. You couldn’t have wished for sweeter hybrids.
· *coughs* Their heats, however, were a different story altogether.
· It was a Friday evening. You had just returned home from a tiring day at work and wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a cup of tea to lull you to sleep. The constant stupidity of your employees was beginning to bug you, and you don’t think you could have taken any more of it.
· On stepping into the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find Jungkook on your couch, squeezed between your boyfriends, engaged in a heated video game. You almost cooed at how adorable the baby bunny hybrid looked between them, undoubtedly trying his best to beat them.
· You announced your presence and before Namjoon and Yoongi even got to acknowledge you, Jungkook jumped out of the sofa and leaped over to hug you. He may have been timid around you at first, but now had no inhibitions whatsoever about barrelling to you and asking for cuddles. You were pretty sure he considered you one of his most favourite human beings on the planet (aside from Jimin, of course). Your boyfriends didn’t mind him most of the time, usually not too swayed when he cuddled with you and practically had his chin on your head half the time when he was with you, so you didn’t hesitate to envelop him in a hug and fluff his hair affectionately. You didn’t even flinch when he nosed his way into your neck, used to the habits of hybrids by now.
· That was, until a loud growl ripped from Yoongi’s throat.
· Jungkook and you froze, slowly turning your heads to look at the source of the sound. You were a bit confused, he had never done that before. “Do you smell her?”, he asked. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but then realized that his question was directed to Namjoon.
· “Yes”, Namjoon replied, his voice just as low and hoarse as Yoongi’s. “Do you think Jungkook’s doing it on purpose?”. His eyes were trained on the male in question, who by now had his ears flattened to the back of his head.
· “No, of course not”, Yoongi replied. “I don’t think he can smell her. And even if could, it wouldn’t matter. He’s mated to Jimin.”
· “Guys.” You had finally mustered up the courage to speak. Both Namjoon and Yoongi turned to look at you, their eyes dark. “What is going on? Why are you growling at Kookie?”
· Your question was met with silence for a while, until finally, Namjoon decided to speak up. “Jungkook, you need to leave. Call up Jimin and tell him to pick you up, but for now, lock yourself in Yoongi’s room. Don’t come out. Y/N’s ovulating, and we have some…stuff to do.”
· Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink at his words. “He doesn’t have to lock himself in the room”, you say. “This has happened before. I’m pretty sure you can control yourselves until Jimin comes over, right?”
· “No, Y/N.”, Yoongi says. “What hasn’t happened before, is your ovulation period and both of our heats falling in the same period. We know Jungkook is mated with Jimin, but we can’t stand the presence of another male, and we’re barely controlling ourselves right now. I personally want nothing else but to rip his head off.”
· Jungkook lets go of you at Yoongi’s statement and quickly situates himself next to the front door. “Y/N”, he squeaks. “I’ll go wait outside for Jimin. He’ll hardly take any time to come here. Bye.” He’s gone before you can blink, and you slowly turn to face your boyfriends.
· Yoongi is gripping the couch so hard you’re pretty sure he’s ripped it. “Namjoon”, he says. “Can I please go first?”
· “Go ahead. You have really bad self control.”, Namjoon snickers.
· “I would have argued, but I’m way too gone right now.”,says Yoongi. “ Y/N, sweetheart, won’t you come here and sit on your oppa’s lap?”
· You gulp at his sugary sweet tone, and slowly make your way over to them. They’re looking at you like you’re their prey, eyes following each small movement right up until you reach them. You quickly situate yourself on Yoongi’s lap, and let him sniff your neck and lap at it. It doesn’t take too much for you to start feeling aroused, and you start panting as his ministrations at your neck start getting heavier. His hands leave your back to roughly rip open the top few buttons of your blouse, taking your bra with them. He wastes no time in cupping both of your tits as he starts suckling on a particular spot on your neck, and you can literally feel the slick flowing out of you.
· You gasp when you feel another set of cold hands brushing up your thighs. They slip your panties off your legs and you can’t help but moan at the sight of Namjoon holding them up to his nose and breathing in deeply. “Sorry baby”, Namjoon grins, “Daddy needed something to help him get by.”
· Yoongi’s mouth has moved to your boobs, and his hands are now pulling up your skirt to claw at your ass. He grunts as he involuntarily ruts himself against you, and you whine as you feel the material of his jeans stimulating your clit. Your juices are soaking his pants, and he just loves how good you smell.
· You start humping him in earnest, and that’s when he knows he needs to be inside of you, now. He quickly picks you up, only to set you down on the floor on your back, and pauses momentarily to zip down his jeans and pull himself out. He’s so thick that you can already feel your mouth water. He glides his cock across your folds, gathering all your slick and spreading it across his head. A whimper leaves you. You can’t wait for him to be inside you.
· Just as he pops the head of his cock in, Namjoon pulls Yoongi back by his shoulder and stops him. You whine as you feel his girth leaving you, and Yoongi, just as confused as you, turns back to ask Namjoon what the hell he thinks he’s doing. “Don’t look at me like that”, Namjoon chuckles. “I have an idea. Why don’t you sit on the couch and fuck her, and I’ll sit on the floor and watch.”
· Yoongi’s mouth curves into a smile. Without warning, he picks you up by your arms and takes you with him as he sits on the couch. Then he turns you around so that you are facing Namjoon. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pulls you onto his hips, pushing his cock into you without preparation.
· “Fuck baby”, he groans. You swallow a moan. “I barely kissed you, and you’re so wet? So fucking wet for your oppa?”. His hands dig into your hips as he feels you trying to grind your pussy against him.” “Stop it, slut. Sit still and take it. “. It takes you everything not to pout at his sudden rough words. “Show Daddy your pussy.”
· Namjoon looks in hunger as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him. His tongue flicks out and licks his canines. He has already pulled his dick out of his pants and is stroking himself. “How does it look, Joon?”,asks Yoongi. “How does my cock look in her pussy?”. “It looks fucking delectable.”, Namjoon replies, leaning forward to lick a strip up from Yoongi”s dick to your folds. Your brain stops functioning as you feel his tongue on you. Yoongi jolts, loving the feeling against his balls.
· Namjoon delves right back in, lapping at the place where you and Yoongi are joined. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the squelching sound fills the room, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You keen as his nose brushes against your clit and start rutting yourself against Yoongi’s dick, unable to help it. Namjoon moves down to completely envelop Yoongi’s balls into his mouth, earning a grunt and a few curse words from the older man.
· As soon as he starts bouncing you on his dick, Namjoon chooses to move upwards and start licking at your nipples. You bring your hands to his head, threading your fingers in his hair and pushing him closer to you, shuddering. When he has given your boobs equal attention, he goes to kiss you. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, sucking hard on your tongue. Your hand wraps around his dick, pumping rapidly.
· Yoongi grunts as his thrusts become more rapid. He pulls Namjoon’s mouth to his own, licking into it as his hand joins your own as he plays with the younger boy’s balls. Namjoon shivers and comes with a growl, covering your hands with his release. The image of both of your boyfriends kissing is enough for you too, and everything fades to white as you come.
· Feeling you squeezing his cock, Yoongi groans, and he frantically thrusts into you, desperate for his own orgasm. You reach behind him with your hand to stroke his tail, and he makes an animalistic noise as his dick slips out of you and sprays cum over Namjoon’s chest.
· All of you are panting by the time Yoongi’s done. Namjoon gently picks you up from the other male’s lap, and you slowly drift off to sleep in his arms as he carries you to the bedroom. You barely register Yoongi’s lips against your forehead as you fall into a deep slumber.
A/N: This is not edited. Lemme know if you’d like a part 2!
#Namgi#BTS#BTS oneshot#yoongi oneshot#yoongi smut#namjoon smut#bts hybrid#hybrid smut#bts fanfiction#yoongi x reader#namjoon x reader#hybrid!yoongi#hybrid!rm#bts smut#bts fluff#smut#hybrid
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Spiritual Connection - Part 4
Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had known the five men who lived in your Grandmother’s house. What you weren’t expecting upon returning as an adult was that they would still be there - and look exactly the same.
Pairing: Brian Kang / DAY6 x reader
Genre: ghost au / fluff / romance
Warnings: none
Spiritual Connection will be posted daily at 10am NZST.
Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Over the following month, there was a lot of progress made. Sure, it was slower going than had you hired a company to do the work, but you loved the satisfaction that surged through you when the task was completed. And although there were endless complaints, there was a lot of laughter as well.
The house felt as magical as it once did.
There was progress in other areas as well; however, you weren’t so sure what to do about them. After the incident against the door, there seemed to be little moments almost every day where you were certain Brian was feeling something too. Sometimes he would hold your hand a little longer than he needed after helping you down off the ladder, and he would always brace things from behind you, his chest pressing into your back. If anything, this was half the reason you weren’t getting through things fast enough. It would throw you off a little, considering thoughts you once wouldn’t have ever dreamed of over your childhood friend.
Such thoughts kept you up at night and when you finally drifted off to sleep, you would dream of a life where Brian would be at your side forever. And not just as your friend either.
But in the land of being awake, you would always chide yourself. How could you fall in love with a ghost? It was easy to blur the lines, especially when he was no Casper the friendly ghost. He didn’t have a tail, nor did he float through walls or change shape to fit objects.
But he was charming.
And that was what clutched at your heart.
“What are you doing up still?”
You stopped in the doorway to the kitchen momentarily before picking up your pace, going over to flick on the jug to make the tea that had pulled you out of your bed. As you waited for the water to boil, you tried not to look at Brian, though you failed when you noticed how he cradled the mug within his hand. Your eyebrows knitted together and you turned to face him. “Did you make yourself a drink?”
“Sometimes I like to pretend I’m still alive by doing pointless things,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders as a sign of his embarrassment. You liked that Brian would always tell you things like this, even if it made him feel foolish in your presence. Shifting the mug in his hand a little, he smiled. “Even though I can’t feel like I used to, having the mug in my hands almost makes me feel warm again.”
“It must be hard to just exist. To have no need to eat, sleep or drink, yet still have the urge to do it all,” you mentioned and Brian nodded. “I guess, it comes with habit, right?”
“You get used to it too. Although nothing bad will happen if I drink this, there’s no point if I do either. Still, now and then, I humour myself.”
You didn’t answer, swinging around to pour the now boiled water into your own mug. You took your time, his last sentence still hanging within the room. You edged around the counter and over to the table he was sat at, placing down your mug before sitting across from him.
And then you took a deep, steadying breath. “Is humouring yourself the right option?”
You asked this way, full knowing he would understand what you meant. At least, you were hoping he would. A small smile curled up the corners of his lips before he lifted the mug to meet them. He took a sip and you watched on, multiple emotions overwhelming you. This whole time, you had never seen them eat or drink once, though you knew they did still sleep. Jae was prime evidence of that. You were worried something would happen, and strangely a little excited by Brian doing something you would see as a common action with anyone else. You took a sip of your own drink, feeling for the first time in a while that you were sharing a moment.
Moments with Brian seemed to be all you had lately.
He looked up at you then, tilting his head to the side. “Sometimes what is deemed the wrong option seems like the only one I want to take.”
“Will you?”
“What about you? Out of the two of us, surely you should know right from wrong.”
You smirked. “You’ve existed longer than I have.”
“Mostly within this house, forgive me for being so sheltered from worldly experiences.”
“You can leave here, I’ve been with you when you have,” you reminded pointedly, referring to the errands you had run since moving here. You had done groceries, paid a couple of bills and picked up new supplies for projects around the house from the hardware store. Not once had you done any of this alone, and generally, it was Brian who would escort you.
His smile grew, and he pulled the mug up to his mouth again, taking another drink. “I never had any reason to step out of here until you came along.”
“Really?” Brian nodded. “Because of me?”
He held out his mug towards you and jerked his head in your direction. “Because of you.”
“Is it wrong?”
“Well, it’s not right,” he assured with a chuckle, still drinking away. “But why live so straight-forward, huh?”
You stared over at him and Brian smiled gently, reaching for your hand on the table. He gave it a small squeeze and you smiled, nodding in response as you held onto him tightly.
Life didn’t have one set of rules for everyone to follow.
You came up with the idea to turn the large manor into a bed and breakfast. Tourism was the main attraction to this small township and with your degree in business management; you only needed to take a certificate in hospitality to open up the home as an enchanting retreat from the city. There was a lot of charm in places like yours, and after telling some friends back in the city about your new project, sharing pictures and videos, you had convinced them that the four hour drive would be worth it.
The only problem was, well, your current housemates.
“You’re letting people come in?”
“And they’re going to sleep here?” Wonpil added onto Jae’s question, the pair sharing an incredulous look.
You nodded brightly. “And eat and play board games and take walks on the beach. Life is pretty hectic out there. We could offer an escape from all of that. Most of the time, it’ll be weekend stays, though sometimes I’m sure it could work as week long stints too. All we need to do is offer people the right atmosphere and it’ll be great!”
“Uh Y/N, you seem to have forgotten, there is no we in this situation,” Dowoon pointed out, gesturing to himself and his four friends. “We can help you, but that’s because you’re special.”
“Maybe she was dropped on her head as a child,” Jae breathed, examining you from head to toe suddenly. “We can’t be sure if she’s special or she sees us because she’s a little damaged.”
Sungjin slung an arm around his friend tightly and shook him. “Are you saying Pearl was ill as well?”
“No, no, okay I get it!” Jae whined and Sungjin let go.
Brian was the only one who grinned. “I mean, if you do this, it means you’re staying, right?”
You nodded and this seemed to ease some of their concerns.
“Still, what if someone sees us?” Wonpil asked, his expression weakening again.
“It’ll be part of the charm. No old house like this comes free from tales.”
“You’ll speak of us?”
“Only if you allow me to. This is your house as well. I found the portraits of you all in the attic the other day. I planned on hanging them up around the house.”
“Now why would you do that, we look so weird in them!”
“Sungjin’s right, even I’m not fond of that idea. I put them in the attic for a reason,” Brian admitted and you grinned at him, reaching for what you had put behind the cushion earlier. Holding up the one of him, you began to giggle. “What, I think it’s charming that the Duke had commissioned portraits of those who were important to him.”
“You mean those who shaped his life,” Jae muttered, though he peered closer at the portrait, rearranging his glasses on the brim of his nose. “Wow, Brian. You looked dashing in this billowy shirt, my friend!”
“Shut up, yours wasn’t much better!”
“You are all the charm of this house,” you announced over their bickering and they turned to look at you. “If anything, I worry this place would fall down without you here. Please, at least try it out with me. If it fails, then we’re back to square one and I’ll have to figure another way to make money to stay on here.”
“You don’t plan to do the house up and sell it on?” Sungjin asked, his dark eyes hopeful. You smiled warmly at him, and then at each one of your friends before your gaze came to a stop on Brian’s.
You grinned. “This is my home, guys. What feels like the unknown right now, may just be what I needed all this time.”
_________________
Part 5
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#kwritersworldnet#pwyl; spiritual connection#day6#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 fiction#day6 fanfic#day6 fluff#day6 romance#day6 au#ghost au#brian kang#young k#young k imagines#young k scenarios#young k fiction#young k fanfic#young k fluff#young k romance#young k au#pwyl; frightful october#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fiction#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop romance
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A personal note, if you'll allow me.
I was seven, on vacation in Martha's Vineyard, when I saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit. I was probably too young for that film but it sure blew my young mind. I slept on Roger Rabbit bedsheets. I had toys, and the inscrutable NES game.
I read about Richard Williams' work in a Comics Scene magazine the next year, and that he'd spent 25 years on a film he intended as his masterpiece, called The Thief and the Cobbler. That stuck with me, and then I saw the film's trailer in 1995 (or so) and realized that something horrible had happened to it.
I ended up spending 8 years restoring that unfinished film, and Dick's other obscure work. Worth it, I think. I met a lot of interesting and talented people, and was able to honor the work that so many had put into Richard's films by essentially forcing the internet to actually watch them.
At one point (we retain this in the Recobbled Cut) Richard Williams called his film "Once." As in "Once Upon a Time" but also that it, like Roger Rabbit, was a film he could only do once. He made "one offs." He put all his effort on the table, and he, like his films, was one of a kind.
Richard Williams' work always inspired me. It showed that animation is artwork - it's not a genre - it can be and look like anything. His animated advertisements could be any genre and style, and those who worked with him in the 70s and 80s were frustrated by his high standards and shifting moods, but also tended to learn quickly and start their own studios and go on to greater things. It was a golden age for commercial animation in London and most of that is unseen today.
You can't even get A Christmas Carol on modern home video and that won the Oscar. It had originally screened on television and they changed the rules afterward so no film could win the Oscar after doing that. Dick was not always well treated in the industry. He had a habit of accepting budgets that were just a little too low, and getting 90% of the way through production on a masterpiece before the money ran out. Raggedy Ann & Andy, A Christmas Carol and Who Framed Roger Rabbit got finished anyway. Warners got cold feet, and The Thief and the Cobbler didn't.
He wanted to be the greatest animator of his time and he more or less accomplished that. His book on animation is the guidebook for almost every animator working today. He was difficult and temperamental and irreplaceable. He always pushed for higher standards. His influence on animation cannot be understated. Through sheer force of will, he forced the entire industry to do better work.
In the 60s and 70s, television was king and the standards of what an animated film should look like had plummeted. Even Disney was repeating itself, and the best animators from the 40s were older then. Richard hired some of the best of them, to pass on their knowledge not just to him but to his competitors. Eventually he became an old master himself.
The industry was never quite ready for him. In Raggedy Ann & Andy, you can occasionally see great animation poking out from an otherwise cheap-looking production. Roger Rabbit was beyond what anyone else was doing, and set a new standard that others copied. He never made another feature after The Thief and the Cobbler was taken away from him. He focused on life drawing and becoming a teacher. It's tempting to think of what could have been, but what he left behind is a staggering legacy, most of which is not available to watch legally.
The first Recobbled Cut was a VHS which suffered so badly from VHS-copying Macrovision issues that you couldn't actually make a copy of it ...
In 2005 The Thief and the Cobbler was not well known outside of animation circles and I figured no one would watch a restoration. Its quality, as a film, is what lured people to it, even beyond the strange story of its production.
I've listened to hundreds of people tell their stories about Dick. That he could be emotional and impossible and his own worst enemy, but also the greatest teacher they ever had. He was beloved, and the people who knew him best loved him best, and were fiercely protective of him and his legacy. He was so much better and so much worse than he's given credit for, and I've never heard a recounting of the story of the making of The Thief and the Cobbler that I fully agree with. I always wanted to hear Dick's side of things instead, because the story of the making of that film is really the story of a big chunk of one man's life. Even if Dick's account of things wouldn't be entirely true, it would still be the right one to listen to. The film reflected him in so many ways. I'm sad we'll never get to hear that story.
People - especially people who knew him only briefly - like to talk trash about Richard Williams and have funny anecdotes that paint him as crazy. These are usually easy to debunk if you look at the facts.
From the outside, Dick seemed out of control, but he was always completely in control, on his own terms. People joke about him not storyboarding the film until 1990, or about constantly changing the script, or constantly changing the character designs. But as we examined his documents over many years, we realized the easy punchlines weren't true. He had a plan, he just wasn't telling everyone about it.
He had storyboarded an earlier version of the film in its entirety and apparently felt no need to update everything until he ran out of usable boards. The script was in place with scene numbers ten years before production officially began. And the character designs evolved as he became a better animator. They had to, since times had changed too.
I've heard a rumor, though I can't confirm it, that Richard Williams watched my Recobbled Cut sometime in 2013 and had mixed feelings - presumably including pain and rage - about seeing a version of his demolished masterpiece that wasn't his.
And it wasn't, you know. I didn't make it for him. I made it for everyone else in the world. Richard Williams had the best version of The Thief and the Cobbler in his head, and he's the only one who ever got to see it.
I can confirm that around that time he started talking about the film, for the first time in 20+ years, and screening his unfinished workprint as "A Moment In Time." When asked about my work in London, he said simply "Don't fuck with my hustle." A unique man.
I'm finally crying. I think I just needed to find the words first.
#richard williams#the thief and the cobbler#who framed roger rabbit#animation#the animator's survival kit
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Perfectly Real Chapter 1
Genre: Angst. If you don't want to read unresolved angst, don't read.
Summary: Logan is tired of everything, and eventually, he snaps.
Warnings: Insults, depression, intrusive/suicidal thoughts, alcohol, unrequited love, manipulation, Deceit, there's probably more so just hmu and I'll change it. There will be abuse and manipulation later, so don't get attached to this story if you can't handle seeing that later.
Pairings: None (for this chapter)
Words: 1,195
Note: all the characters in this are morally gray. They can all be seen as sympathetic or not. If you don't want to see characters being morally gray, this isn't a fic for you. This fic is tagged Perfectly Real, so if you don't want to see it, block that tag.
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He was sick of it. Sick of everything. Sick of the world and the people in it. And he wasn’t even a person, not something more than a figment of Thomas’s imagination. Every insult, every biting remark stuck to his brain like tar, and it was slowly, slowly dragging him down. His thoughts were a poison that he kept on drinking, pulling him lower and lower. Well, lower than he already was. It wasn’t the only poison he was drinking, now. It was unhealthy and illogical and stupid, but the wine numbed everything, took off the edge so the bottle on his bedside table was a permanent decoration.
Logan sat on the floor, reclining against the side of his bed, staring absently at the wall in front of him, it’s cool, dark gray staring back. He knew he should be working, the papers neatly organized on his desk, waiting to be revised. He checked his watch-- 4:30. They would start filming the video soon, and he should get together and sober before then, and actually memorize his lines… and fact-check them, so he didn’t make a mistake again, but he lacked the energy to do anything more than swirl his glass and pick at a fraying thread on his pants.
“Logan, can you stop?” Patton’s voice echoed through his head, loud as ever.
“Look, Logan’s not here, let’s act like it,” Roman said coldly, his voice rippling through Logan’s memory.
The insults stung, sure, they were getting tiring and his drinking habit was getting out of hand… but were they wrong? Didn’t they have the right to criticize Logan? Rude, uncaring, unfeeling, cold, calculating, logical Logan. Logan who only cared if there was a mess to clean up, Logan who talked too much and listened too little. Logan checked his watch. 4:50. He got up, dusting himself off and straightening his tie. He set his wineglass on his bedside table and sunk down.
“Hello, Thomas. Is there anything I can do to help before we begin filming?” His speech was a little fuzzy, the wine making him care a little less about enunciation.
“Uhhh, can you set up the tripod?” Thomas said without looking up, a pen in his mouth, hunched over a script making last-minute line changes. Logan pulled it out of its case, adjusting the legs as he let his mind wander.
They all hate you, said a voice whispering at the back of his mind. They hate being around you, they could function just fine without you dragging them down, the voice danced like fire, igniting his mind, but he ignored it. It could play its games later, when he was in his room, nursing a chardonnay.
The others began popping in, asking about lines, suggesting jokes and tiny edits.
“Please, Thomas, just one ‘infinetesimal’ joke! Please?” Patton said excitedly. Logan ignored it, finishing adjusting the tripod. He knew this was what he deserved for making a mistake. A stupid mistake.
He sunk out to review his lines before filming, but his mind wandered as his eyes glazed over, staring through the paper. He felt the pull at the back of his neck, they needed him. He sighed, rising up, script in hand.
“Alright, everyone! Time to start filming! Roman rises up first in this video, so everyone be quiet…” Thomas continued talking, but Logan stopped paying attention, letting the empty static fill his brain, He stared forward, his eyes crossing.
“Logan! Logan, it’s your line!” Thomas said, startling Logan.
“Apologies,” Logan said, shaking himself. He crouched down, then rose up. “Thomas, you’re overthinking this. You’re still suffering from cognitive distortions.” Logan said his line with an ounce of annoyance because that was what the role required.
“Listen, teach, I’m wrong a lot, but I have a bad feeling about this one…” Virgil mumbled into his hoodie. The conversation continued, and Logan paid it some attention, so he wouldn’t miss another queue. Roman was talking about grand gestures of love (at least that’s what Logan thought he was talking about? It just sounded like flowery nonsense) and Patton and Virgil were listening intently.
"... And besides, Thomas hasn't been on any dates lately, and he was really cute!" Roman finished, waving his hands wildly.
"Hey Logan!" Patton said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Logan looked at him cooly. "You could say the amount of dates Thomas has been on lately is--"
"Don't." Logan said, voice made of polished ice.
"--Infinitesimal?" Patton finished the joke, laughing a little.
"Thank you, Patton." Logan spat. The fury was barely held back in his voice, but none of them listened long enough to care.
"The number of dates Thomas has is almost as low as the number of fans Logan has!" Roman remarked, chuckling heartily. Virgil hid a snort behind his hand.
Oh. It was one of those lines. Where Thomas didn't tell the victim so the reaction would be more genuine.
"I don't have a line here, Roman, but that's not going to stop me." Logan looked at the camera, still recording. He turned to Patton, his gaze ice. "You're pathetic. Ruled by your emotions, you can't ever seem to be happy, and you're constantly holding Thomas back. Good and Evil are just nonsense that you live by, like an idiot," there were tears inside him, somewhere, but they weren't close to the surface yet, his face was still marble, his eyes still flint.
"Logan--" Virgil started, surprised.
"Anxiety," Logan cut him off. "If any Side were to win the reward for weakest, it would be you. You constantly fall apart, sniveling like a kicked puppy. You hold Thomas back, you overthink, you close yourself off because you fear betrayal, and rejection. I hope all your fears come true." Inside Logan, the dam was breaking. But he still had more to say. "And you," Logan said, turning toward the television. "Roman Creativity Sanders, are a waste of space and a disappointment to me in every possible way. Nothing you create will ever be good enough for me, because you are a terrible artist. And in the future, you will be forgotten, alone." Logan took a steadying breath and snapped his head toward Thomas. "You are the most ungrateful, unkind, and rude host I could have asked for. You all are infinitely disappointing and I'll be lucky to never see any of you again." Logan saw Patton tears, heard Virgil's quickened breathing, saw Roman's knuckles white in a fist, and Thomas's look of despair. But he couldn't seem to find it in himself to care. He sunk into his room.
"Now this won't do." Logan clapped his hands twice, summoning Deceit.
"Wow teach, that was little far, even for me."
"Are you going to help me move or not?" Logan said. Cold. Unfeeling. Apathetic.
"Fine, I'll show you your new room," Deceit said, walking out of Logan's room. "What should I call you? You aren't going to be Logic anymore." There it was. He wasn't something good anymore. He was something… Not evil, he thought, but free. Free of having to be good. He could just be himself.
"Call me Apathy," Apathy said.
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Read Chapter 2
#Perfectly Real#this is chapter one!#deceit sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#thomas sanders#sanders sides#tss#tssides#angst#hurt no comfort#just like... be warned this fic is sad time#all the characters are kind of morally gray in this#so unsympathetic and sypathetic to all of them
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Meet Judd Madden: Melbourne’s Most Prolific One-Man Band
~Interview by Shawn Gibson~
Art by Jeff Smith
How are you doing?
Pretty good! As good as we can in these strange times.
When you are not doing music you are doing web design. How busy does that keep you?
There's not much work on at the moment honestly, so personal projects have filled the void. And video games.
You live in Melbourne Australia right? Tell me a little about Melbourne and where you live.
Melbourne is home to 5 million people. It's a wonderful city with vibrant live music, restaurants, parks – anything you're into, you can find. I've lived here for 16 years and I absolutely love it.
How have the wildfires affected you?
We had smoke here in Melbourne for weeks, though Sydney was much worse. The bushfires (as we call them) were hell on earth for those nearby.
How are you holding up with the Corona virus affecting everything?
My wife is working from home now, with me, so that's nice. My friends and family are healthy and safe, but I miss seeing them in person – video chats and phone calls are just not the same.
I miss live music and being in a crowd, the physical space and sharing in the moment. Australia is doing well comparatively, we're a spacious country with a low population, and we're good at following rules like "stay home."
What places do you go to in Melbourne to see heavy music?
The Tote, The Bendigo, Max Watts (HiFi), The Forum. I can't fucking wait to get to a gig when all this is over.
What are some Australian bands you love and we should check out?
In the doom/metal scene there are so many. Droid, Dr Colossus, Pod People, Thaw, Holy Serpent, Lucifungus are some I've enjoyed live recently.
Glacial by Judd Madden
My first introduction to Judd Madden was Glacial. I loved it and checked the other albums on your Bandcamp page.
Oh, cool! That album featured my one and only music video; Mountain Slayer, which received great exposure.
Is there an album that was removed from your Bandcamp page? There was a song on an album that almost had a hardcore tempo, great bass line! I want to say something like against set. I wish I remembered!
Before Waterfall (the first album) was released I made dozens of rough songs, to see if I could do it all by myself, and to experiment. Most of them were bad. "Against Set" and some of the less bad songs are on the Old Doom & Demos album. Listening now, it's not that fast -- maybe you're thinking of something else? There are not a lot of fast songs in my catalogue, perhaps "Mouth" from Waterfall or Waterfall II?
Please tell me about 528hz (DNA repair). I have heard many frequencies in that range, higher and lower but never in a doom song!
It's from "Everything In Waves" which is about reality, energy, perception, matter, cosmos. In my research about wave-forms of all types, I stumbled across the "healing tones" genre, with its wild claims about specific frequencies.
The song is mostly tongue-in-cheek, but leaves the question open. Can listening to certain tones have healing/meditative benefits? Well, we don't know everything, right?
Feel No Pain by Dead End Thoughts
What prompted Dead End Thoughts?
The desire to create even heavier music, with vocals. It's a separate project, as my main catalogue doesn't have vocals – Dead End Thoughts is a different beast. I wanted a space to explore complex ideas, the edges of my mind and darkness. The songs are thematically and musically extremely heavy.
It doesn't come from a place of depression or anger, as some people have suggested, but a need to explore and create something original. If it's original I'm happy. Musically the songs are totally organic, it's a stream of consciousness in the jam, with vocals and instrument layers added after.
Dead End Thoughts recently released 'Feel No Pain' (2020). Please tell me about the spark that started the fire for this album.
Feel No Pain is created directly from live jams between myself on guitar and Dan on drums. It's an evolution from the first album, which I created recording guitar first and drums second (which was difficult).
When you jam with one melodic instrument and one rhythmic instrument, both are free (within reason) to do what they like. Adding a second melodic instrument like a bass usually requires more planning and results in more structured songs.
We enjoy seeing where things go. These five tracks were chosen from around 20 that we recorded throughout the year. I realised mid-year that this could be the next album; the riffs were of similar tone, and I wouldn't have to drum over them!
Once I added a second/third guitar, bass, and vocals, they no longer sounded like jams and became real songs -- but you can still feel the live energy. It's also not perfect, which I think makes it more interesting.
We surprise ourselves when we're jamming, there is no staleness from playing a rehearsed song over and over. Most of the riffs on the album were new to us as we played them. It's so much fun.
On 'Feel No Pain,' Dan Jolly plays drums and did the album artwork. Please tell me about him and his role in Dead End Thoughts.
Dan has been one of my best mates for many years. We've played a lot together, he's a fantastic drummer who's even more into doom metal than I am! He played on half of these tracks unaware that they would become an album, sorry Dan. (laughs)
Our drumming styles are actually pretty similar, but he's younger and more energetic. I asked him to do the album art, as I was doing all the production and extra instruments, so he could share ownership of the project. It's an awesome painting, we had it before the lyrics so I was able to connect with "By Burning Heat."
Colour High by Colour High
Tell me about Colour High and how that is different from the music you make most of the time.
Colour High is an electronic doom project, similar to the music in Stranger Things. It was made over two months very late at night, in headphones when I couldn't make noise.
I've always dabbled in electronic music, once I even 'played live' in 1999 with my brick of a computer and CRT monitor. I just sat behind it and pretended to be doing things -- I wasn't.
Colour High is all about exploring sounds, compositions, just having fun and enjoying a different process. Having the entire score and all instruments available when composing is very different to the track-by-track approach required for solo instrumental music.
What makes Judd Madden laugh?
Most things. My friends, my wife, my cat. I love TV shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Always Sunny, South Park, The Office. Love stand-up comedy -- hard to name just a few, but Dave Chappelle, Brian Regan, Bill Burr, Iliza Shlesinger, Joey Diaz, Dylan Moran and all the greats like Carlin, Seinfeld, Prior, etcetera!
Which bands have influenced you and the music you make?
My parents like Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Beatles, Metallica. 90's bands like Tool, RATM, Chili Peppers, Prodigy. Then I started getting into Kyuss, Sleep, Yob, and the amazing stoner rock/doom metal scene. It resonated strongly with me and I immediately wanted to make music in that genre.
Now I listen to anything good: jazz, classical, electro, darksynth, math, weird stuff like Scott Walker or doom bands like Conan, Bongripper, Aleph Null. Completely obsessed with an electronic artist called 2814, the album Birth of a New Day is a real trip.
Name some good books that you have read.
The Gap Cycle, Stephen Donaldson. The Nights Dawn Trilogy, Peter Hamilton. Enders Game Series, Orson Scott Card.I like big space operas, currently getting through The Culture series, but honestly I've fallen out of the habit of reading – I usually listen to music in headphones in bed.
How is the weed in Australia? Good?
It's illegal mate. But good, yes. I never touched it until I was 30 – now it's fun occasionally. I find it can help creativity, particularly with music. It can lower your ego, allow a more natural flow.
Is there anything you want to plug or promote?
Aside from the new album and the other projects we've discussed, my wife and I made Duel 52, a card game that you can play with a standard deck of cards. It's free and fun, if you're bored in lockdown check it out!
What is in the future for Judd Madden and Dead End Thoughts?
Once Dan and I can jam again we'll keep making music, and another heavy album. For my main project I have the beginnings of a lighter album similar to Float, spacey and guitar-heavy. Calm, meditative music to balance all this darkness.
Judd, thank you very much for your time! Stay safe and sane through these tough times!
Cheers, thank you for your support!
Waterfall II by Judd Madden
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#D&S Interviews#Judd Madden#Melbourne#Australia#Doom#Sludge#Metal#Doom Metal#one man band#Dead End Thoughts#Colour High#Doomed & Stoned
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𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 — 𝖇𝖆𝖊𝖐 ‘𝖘𝖆𝖒’ 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖚𝖓.
hi hello. i’m cait, i’m 25, i go by she/her pronouns and i live in cst! i am a hot mess who loves causing her characters pain & angst…. i also love ruining their lives on a daily basis.
this is my babe sangjun who’s a lil bit messy ( much like most of my characters ) and you can find basic stats / bullet point bio / basic personality info / basic plot ideas & stuff like that for him under the cut! if you want more in depth info message me bc honestly this intro post is … oof !!! it’s also kinda long so lemme apologize for that as well !!!
but i am super excited to be here and i can’t wait to plot with ya’ll & love your babies !!!! if you’d like to plot, please feel free to IM me on here, ask for my discord or like this post & i’ll come to you !!!
tw: mentions of alcohol / alcoholism, drugs / drug abuse, bullying & violence.
BASIC INFO ( PT 1. )
FACECLAIM: min yoongi + suga + rapper.
CHARACTER NAME: baek 'sam' sangjun.
PRONOUNS: he/him.
GENDER: cismale.
AGE/BIRTHDAY: twenty-six. + june eleventh.
ZODIAC SIGN: gemini.
ROOM: haean + 2e.
OTHER INFO
POSITIVE TRAITS: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous.
NEGATIVE TRAITS: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt.
OCCUPATION: bouncer at club arena / underground fighter. ( future ceo )
SONG THAT DESCRIBES THEM: i'm not sorry - dean.
HOW LONG HAVE THEY LIVED AT THE YUJAEN?: six years.
FOUR MUSE AESTHETICS: leather jackets, bruised knuckles, blurry evenings, late night snack runs.
BASIC INFO ( PT 2. )
full name: baek sangjun.
nickname(s): sam, san, jun.
hometown: seoul, south korea
current location: yongsa, south korea.
ethnicity: korean.
nationality: korean.
gender: cismale.
pronouns: he/him/his.
orientation: pansexual.
occupation: bouncer / underground fighter.
language(s) spoken: korean, english, japanese, spanish, french, chinese.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.
face claim: min yoongi. ( suga ) of bts.
hair color: frequently changes, currently platinum blonde.
eye color: brown with a small hazel ring.
height: 5'10".
weight: 169.
build: athletic.
tattoos: he’s got a few stick-n-poke tattoos scattered across his body, though most aren’t visible when he’s wearing clothing.
piercings: these, double helix in left ear & tongue.
HEALTH.
physical ailments: alcoholism, allergies, drug abuse, lactose intolerance.
neurological conditions: back pain / muscle spasms, carpal tunnel.
allergies: shellfish, pollen, mold.
sleeping habits: all over the place, usually tosses & turns for a while before falling asleep. rarely gets more than 4-5 hours of sleep a night.
eating habits: horrible, relies on fast-food & take-out most of the time. loves 'comfort foods’.
exercise habits: goes to the gym at least three times a week, less if he’s been in back-to-back fights.
body temperature: hotnatured.
addictions: alcohol, tobacco, cannabis, gambling, sex.
drug use: frequent.
alcohol use: frequent.
PERSONALITY. ( PT 1. )
label: the cataclysmic.
positive traits: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous.
negative traits: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt.
fears: heights, flying, confined spaces, drowning, commitment.
hobbies: arcade games, astronomy, billiards, board games, boxing, card games, comic books, cooking, motorcycles, poker, reading, video games, weight training, yoga.
habits / quirks: believes in demonic possession, believes in ghosts & spirits, believes in karma, carries a 'lucky’ item with him everywhere, fights for animal rights, fights for gender equality, fights for human rights, fights for the legalization of cannabis, fights for marriage equality, meditates, always has change in his pockets, owns an outrageous amount of shoes, counts stairs, experiences episodes of depression, boxes, collects packs of playing cards, doodles on everything, gardens, loves board games, paints, plays with fire, plays poker, plays video games, randomly wanders around when bored, sings well.
FAVORITES.
season: fall.
color(s): army green, black, red, gray.
music: all genres, doesn’t care for country.
movies: action, comedy, horror, suspense.
sport(s): hockey, basketball, baseball.
beverage(s): whiskey, soda.
food: comfort foods.
animal: dogs.
FAMILY.
father: baek jaejin, sixty, ceo.
mother: baek chansook, fifty-four, ceo.
sibling(s): younger sibling, nineteen.
children: n/a.
pet(s): a siamese cat named ramen ( back at home with his parents ), a bengal cat named shiva ( back at home with his parents ) & a seven month old austrailan sheppard puppy named indy ( lives with his sibling. )
family’s financial status: upper class.
EXTRAS.
mbti: entp-a. ( the debater )
enneagram: type 8. ( the challenger )
temperament: choleric.
hogwarts house: slytherin.
moral alignment: chaotic neutral.
primary vice: wrath.
primary virtue: diligence.
element: fire.
BIOGRAPHY.
born in seoul, south korea.
parents were very well known ceos, both running very successful corporations.
and of course, they wanted sangjun to follow in their footsteps.
parents were pretty strict and didn’t really allow him to do well.. anything.
however, they did buy him whatever he wanted and spoiled him in that way.
and due to both of those things combined, he started to rebel at a really young age. ( i’m talking like 10 )
so he’d sneak out, graffiti people’s houses and break things and the likes.
never got caught for it, though, knowing that if he did his parents would have kicked him out and probably disowned him for his behavior.
but one of the reasons he never got caught being a rebel was the fact he was bringing straight a’s in school, was always the very top of his class and from his parent’s perspective? he was a model child.
however, he hated that, hated having to live under his parent’s shadows and be this cookie-cutter version of himself they wanted him so desperately to be.
but he played it off, juggling the 'angel’ side of him with the rebellious tendencies that continued to grow worse and worse with each passing year.
god, high school was so different, though. he’d rebel more and more every single day, pushing the limits of getting caught.
however, word got out pretty quickly about just how wealthy his family was and kids started to bully sangjun for it, causing his anger to get the better of him until he lashed out so bad it landed one of those bullies in the hospital for copious amounts of injuries.
of course, his parents were pissed. grounded him for a solid month and in that time, he learned each and every way he could sneak out of his house at night, wandering the streets of seoul at all hours.
one of those nights he happened to run into a group of people who also went to his school, but instead of them bullying him for whatever reason, they commended him on standing up for himself like he had & told him there was a way to let out the pent up aggression that ended up sending a kid to the hospital.
his curiosity was lit up that night, eager to figure out what the hell they were talking about and a few days later, he was introduced to a scene that’d become far more intoxicating that anything he’d ever experienced before.
underground fighting. no rules, no shadows he had to live under, tons of money for each win under his belt? it was the life he never knew he wanted, but the second he got a taste of it, he wanted more.
so those late night strolls turned into him sneaking out of the house only to meet up with his new group of friends, all of which were clad in full black outfits .. traveling to some random person’s basement ( or abandoned buildings of numerous kinds ) only for sangjun to be able to release every single bit of pent up aggression he carried out on some stranger who’d never remember his name.
his parents? they were just as clueless as before, though, sam continuing to excel in school as well as his fights so much so that he found the perfect balance.. learned how to hide the scrapes and bruises from his mother & father all while continuing to be the top of his class.
not to mention he was juggling all of that and his acting career all at once, trying to hide certain things from his parents and the rest of the world because he knew it’d ruin his reputation.
however, due to the amount of stress that sat upon sam’s shoulders on a daily basis, he let himself slip up on his 21st birthday, parents stumbling into his apartment only to catch him drunk & high with a bunch of strangers surrounding him.
it was a moment he’d been scared of his whole life, worried his parents would just disown him right then and there...
but in all honesty? it was the most freeing night of sam’s life.
he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t anymore, didn’t have to pretend to be a pure and innocent little thing who never did anything wrong. didn’t have to live up to the high expectations he’d set for himself so many years ago and god, he was hooked.
his parents not disowning him and continuing to pay for everything he wanted only fueling him to continue the downward spiral, living his life to the fullest, doing whatever the hell he wanted to... whenever the hell he wanted to.
PERSONALITY. ( PT 2. )
hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.
doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him. ( though it’s all a ruse. )
wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.
has two different wardrobes, one for when he’s around his parents. that consists of suits & dressy attire. and then one for when he isn’t that consists of ripped jeans, t-shirts, sweats & everything in between.
is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.
his motorcycle is literally his baby ??? like he ?? has a problem ??
fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at his parents meetings and the likes.
lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s actually v scared & stressed on the inside because that’ll cause him to start having to deal with his feelings, and he doesn’t wanna do that.
is the biggest flirt you will ever meet?? like if he’s speaking to you… its usually flirty as hell unless it has to do w business ( both his parents & his fights ) or he’s just known you for centuries ?
will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell ??
drinks..heavily.. like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.
nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, plays piano.. loves to sketch, paint & the likes.
he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.
full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.
owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he ‘relates’ to it.
is a highkey hoe but he tries to keep it on the dl ( he fails… miserably. )
super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening. ( that doesn’t work for him tho, oof.. )
also has bruised knuckles 24/7 & some other injuries he gets from his fights, plays it off like he’s just clumsy.
anger issues af. needs to get them in check.
actually super kind and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall?? which is really hard tbh but if you’re able to? he’s so loyal and caring it’s unreal.
has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out, which is usually all of the time so he smokes…. more than he should ( though he won’t admit to being stressed out,,,,, ever in his life. )
highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t the ‘hardass’ he pretends to be on a daily basis.
is a burnt cupcake who has 'decent’ intentions but has extremely horrible execution skills.
PLOT IDEAS.
bad influence. ( on your muse. )
best friends.
childhood friend.
competition.
confidant.
cousin.
current hook up(s).
drinking buddies.
drunken hook up.
enemies that used to be friends.
enemies.
exes who ended on bad terms.
flirtationship.
frenemies.
friendly competition.
friends that used to be enemies.
friends with benefits.
good influence. ( on sangjun. )
hate sex.
one night stand(s). ( past & present. )
partner in crime.
party buddies.
past hook up(s).
ride or die.
social media friends.
trouble makers.
unlikely friends.
#yj:intro#✶ — › 𝔞 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢 — ⌜ out of character. ⌟#pls come lov the SINnamon roll
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1, 8, 10, 12, 19, 24, and 44?
1. Do you listen to music when you write?
Always. It soothes the fidgety part of my brain while I’m trying to translate what I see into words that I hope make sense.
Occasionally I forget to put the music on and there’s a definite negative correlation to productivity there. :P
8. Oldest WIP
… … …the FFI novelization I started when I started writing seriously as a teenager. I got several chapters in, then restarted it, then restarted it again and parts of it are still up on the internet, wheeze
I still intend to finish it, and it’s kinda a good thing I didn’t just blow through it, because it’s ambitious and I’ve come to a lot of worldbuilding conclusions I wouldn’t have by letting it set. It’s still way overdue for the writing it out part, though.
I also have a full series Ultima novelization series planned. Pray for me.
Not that I know anyone else really likes video game novelizations other than the people writing them, even for pretty bare-bones games, but I like them so I presume some other folks enjoy them too.
10. Doyou set yourself deadlines?
Occasionally. Usually it’s like, “I wanna get this fic completed by [x] date” or “before I start on [y],” though.
I have more luck with fic exchange deadlines and challenge deadlines and things like that, though. Though I missed the last challenge deadline I signed up for because I signed up for too many exchanges this year and it snuck up on me. Oops.
12. Describeyour perfect writing space
Desk, laptop, comfy or adequate office chair, candy or other junkfood to graze on while thinking, earphones in, playlist shuffle on, middle of the night so no one is around and all is still.
19. Howdo you keep yourself motivated?
“Maybe someone will read the thing and like it.”
also the realization of, “If I want it to exist I gotta write it ‘cause it’s not going to write itself.”
Idk, though, there’s this thing I got with certain stories where I also can’t really stop thinking about them or move on to the next until they get written. Which is it’s own “Okay, I guess we’re doing this??” motivation at times.
24. Favouritegenre to write and read
Reading:
Fanfiction. Really, though, give me that emotional continuity or whatever it’s been called recently. If I love a thing I love me more of the same.
Uhh…
I like Sci-fi, Sci-fantasy, and High Fantasy. I like heavily worldbuilt stuff but with characters that are engaging. I really like rogue types. Cosmic horror is its own thing, but it’s fun when it’s built into one of the above.
I especially like stuff that engages my brain in a clever or creative way, because I’m one of those people who spots the plot twist three chapters in regardless of whether you intended to write foreshadowing or not. XD
Writing:
…Fanfiction? XD
I … actually really like writing plot-heavy stuff and new adventures for characters and all kinds of side stories, I’m just not very good at long plot stuff before I start second guessing myself and end up putting it on the back burner. And I enjoy worldbuilding the same. Magic can be very fun, especially the magic that makes no logical sense, but also the magic that works according to rules. Same with sci-fi that just works because it’s advanced and taken for granted by the people who live within that world, no explanation given.
That aside, I’ve actually really enjoyed writing the ‘mundane’ RL analogue stuff that is early Saints Row. Even if I keep putting ghosts and paladin-style magic into it, but hey - GooH is a thing now.
And I really, really enjoy rogues.
44. Howmuch research do you do?
Too much.
Not enough.
Okay, look: a wizard arrives does just as much research as he intends to, alright?
I have a bad habit of getting hung up on little details here for two hours and eventually handwaving everything anyway there. It can’t be said I don’t make the effort, though.
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Interview: M Shadows, Zacky Vengeance, and Jimmy Reed
*What is your name?*
M Shadows: Matthew Charles Sanders. You can call me “Matt”, “Shadows”, or “Shadz”.
Zacky Vengeance: Zachary James Baker. You can call me “Zack” or “Zacky”. I don’t care.
Jimmy Reed: Mathis James Reed. I prefer to be called “Jimmy”. I was never too keen on my first name, and it’s been ages since anyone called me any variation of it.
*How old are you?*
M Shadows: I am currently 37 years old.
Zacky Vengeance: Chronologically, I’m turning 37 in a couple of months - but I was turned a little over eleven years ago, when I was 25.
Jimmy Reed: Chronologically, I just turned 92 years old - but I was turned at the age of 29, just a few weeks of turning 30.
*Height?*
M Shadows: I’m 6 feet and 1 inch tall.
Zacky Vengeance: I’m 5 feet and 8 inches tall.
Jimmy Reed: I’m 5 feet and 4 inches tall.
*You Got Any Bad Habits?*
M Shadows: Well, I used to have a very bad temper - and I used to be very politically outspoken. Currently, I think maybe I’m a bit addicted to video games.
Zacky Vengeance: Admittedly, I’m not exactly the healthiest eater around. I’d be a bad one to come to for dietary advice.
Jimmy Reed: *nodding* Yeah, pretty much as Zacky said. And, as with Shadz, I can be a bit obsessive with video games. I’m more of a casual gamer, though. Oh, yeah, and before I was turned - I used to have a pretty bad drinking problem.
*You A Virgin?*
M Shadows, Zacky Vengeance, and Jimmy Reed: *burst out laughing*
M Shadows: *through chuckles* Yeah, I’m a virgin with two biological children!
Jimmy Reed: *still laughing* And I’m a virgin with eight biological children! And plenty other adopted children.
Zacky Vengeance: *stifling laughter* Well, as far as I know, I have no biological children - but I definitely am not a virgin!
*Who’s your Mate?*
M Shadows: My lovely Valary. Who else?
Zacky Vengeance: My sweet Kelsey, the very woman who turned me.
Jimmy Reed: My precious Mary, for a little over sixty years
*Have Any Kids?*
M Shadows: Yeap, I’ve got two lovely lively young boys!
Zacky Vengeance: Two lively dumplings here, myself.
Jimmy Reed: Oh, goodness! Oodles of them. Eight of who are biological, and plenty others who are adopted.
*Favourite Food?*
M Shadows: Hm, a nice steak dinner. Cut of steak don’t matter much, so long as it’s at least “choice” quality and served rare.
Zacky Vengeance: I’ve a fancy for Italian food. It’s in my blood. My buddy Jimmy here introduced me to a great Italian dessert called “sanguinaccio dolce”.
M Shadows: Yeah, I quite enjoy me some sanguinaccio dolce - even if I’m not a vampire like you two are.
Jimmy Reed: Oh, yeah,that’s one treat I’ll never tire of. My wife and I had even compiled a cookbook of blood-based recipes.
*Favourite Colour?*
M Shadows: Tough choice, but I’d go with red.
Zacky Vengeance: For me, it’s gotta be green. Specifically, mint or lime green.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, as lovely Zacky here said.
*Most Annoying Person?*
M Shadows: Eh, gotta go with Donald Trump.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, Donald Trump really scares me.
Jimmy Reed: Good choice, both of you. Good choice. He’s the first presidential candidate I ever publicly opposed.
*Best Friend?*
M Shadows: My band mates in Avenged Sevenfold... and Jimmy Reed.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, as Matt said.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, all of Avenged Sevenfold.
*Any Secrets?*
M Shadows: Well, if I told you - then it would no longer be a secret, would it?
Zacky Vengeance and Jimmy Reed: *nodding in agreement*
M Shadows: So let’s move on to the next question already - shall we?
*Love Anyone?*
M Shadows: Uh, I think you already asked this question: Valary!
Zacky Vengeance: Still Kelsey!
Jimmy Reed: Still May Lee!
*TACOS?*
M Shadows: Oh, yeah! Most definitely!
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, I’m never one to turn down tacos.
Jimmy Reed: Same here. I’ve always been a huge fan of tacos!
*Ever Slept In All Day?*
M Shadows: Most definitely! Who hasn’t?
Zacky Vengeance: Well, as a vampire, “sleeping in” would mean staying in bed hours past sundown. And, yeah, I would say I have.
Jimmy Reed: *nodding* Yeah, as Zacky said.
*Species/Race?*
M Shadows: Well, I think I’m the only mortal at this interview.
Zacky Vengeance: I’m a vampire. Been a vampire for over eleven years now.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, I’m a black vampire. I’ve been a vampire for over sixty years, now.
*Crush?*
M Shadows: This question *again*? Valary! Why would my answer suddenly be different?
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, no offence - but you’re being a bit repetitive with that question.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, Zacky and Shadz are right. It’s the third time you asked us that.
*Favourite Band/Singer?*
M Shadows: Jimmy Reed!
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, Jimmy Reed!
Jimmy Reed: Avenged Sevenfold!
*Eye Colour/s?*
M Shadows: Brown.
Zacky Vengeance: Green.
Jimmy Reed: Green... I mean brown.
*Skin?*
M Shadows: Uh, yeah, I have skin.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, I think I’m still all covered with skin.
Jimmy Reed: Oh, yeah, my body is definitely covered with skin.
*Fat/Average/Slim?*
M Shadows: Average, I think.
Zacky Vengeance: A little chubby.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, somewhat chubby.
*Rain, Sunshine?*
M Shadows: I would go with sunshine.
Zacky Vengeance: If I had to pick... rain. I was never a big on the sun, even before I became a vampire.
Jimmy Reed: Why is moonlight not a option for us vampires?
*Camping Or Staying Home?*
M Shadows: Staying out. Camping is nice for a few days, and then the bugs start to get to you.
Zacky Vengeance: Camping is nice, as long as we can find a campsite covered with tall shady trees.
Jimmy Reed: As Zacky said. I mean, having plenty of shady areas is kind of important for us vampires.
*Dog, Cat?*
M Shadows: Definitely dog!
Zacky Vengeance: Gotta go with dog. Kels and I have three dogs in our home.
Jimmy Reed: Well, both are nice... but I think we’ve had dogs more often than cats. Both are great companions, though - in different ways.
*Believe In Aliens?*
M Shadows: Sure, why not! Our universe seems quite enormous.
Zacky Vengeance: I would think so, but I’m guessing they’d be nothing like how much of sci-fi portrays them to be.
Jimmy Reed: Well, we know that there are alternate universes - so why rule out other planets in *our* universe?
*Natural Born, or Clone?*
M Shadows: I’m pretty sure I’m natural born.
Zacky Vengeance: Same here.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, definitely natural born - although, we did different versions of ourselves from other universe.
M Shadows: Oh, yeah, about that... I find that some of the alternate younger versions of me can be pretty annoying - and... I find that to be a bit unsettling.
*Teeth?*
M Shadows: Yeah, I’m pretty sure my teeth are all present.
Zacky Vengeance: As a vampire, I do have a set of fangs on the top.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, the same with me.
*Ever Destroyed Something Out Of Blind Rage?*
M Shadows: Sadly, I have. When I was very young and I’ve not yet learned to control my anger.
Zacky Vengeance: Hm, not that I can recall.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, I can’t say that I ever have.
*Are there any unusual things about you?*
M Shadows: I’ve been kicked out of several schools. Definitely not something that I’m proud of.
Zacky Vengeance: Well... I’m left-handed, I’m a vampire, and... and I have an extra bone in my foot.
Jimmy Reed: Well, one could say that my family dynamics are a bit unusual... particularly as I *am* a vampire.
*How Much Food/Drink Do You Need A Day?*
M Shadows: Well, I’m a pretty big eater.
Zacky Vengeance: Definitely gotta have three big meals a day... and always keep a Thermos of blood around.
Jimmy Reed: Getting enough food to eat isn’t so much an issue for me as getting enough blood in my food intake, particularly when I’m on the road.
*Favourite Place?*
M Shadows: Oh, definitely the beach.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, the beach... after sundown.
Jimmy Reed: I think a lot of mortals don’t quite realize how nice it is to visit the beach at night.
M Shadows: Hey, I do!
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, I know *you* do - but I mean in general. I see the beach clear out within moments of the sun setting, and I... I don’t quite understand that.
*Pet Peeve?*
M Shadows: Toxic political discourse. I’m ashamed to admit that I, at one time, had been part of the problem.
Zacky Vengeance: Political discourse seems to be getting worse, though - what with social media and all.
Jimmy Reed: Yeah, seeing how toxic discourse on social media can get really... worries me.
*Have you ever done drugs?*
M Shadows: A little bit, back in the day. When The Rev’s condition started getting very bad, though - then I know we had to get clean.
Zacky Vengeance: Same with me, before I became a vampire.
Jimmy Reed: Well, does alcohol count? I used to have a drinking problem before I became a vampire.
*Are your feet ticklish?*
M Shadows: *smirking* Well, I don’t think mine are so much - but Zacky’s definitely are!
Zacky Vengeance: Hey! Matthew Charles Sanders!
M Shadows: *innocently* What? What did I do wrong?
Jimmy Reed: Hey, are you... by any chance... that persistent question asker who kept sending me all those feet questions on my YouTube channel? And, yeah, don’t touch my feet.
Zacky Vengeance: Can we move onto the next question, already?
M Shadows: Fine! Be that way!
*What do you think about Led Zeppelin?*
M Shadows: Very fine band! Always loved them. Definitely a major influence for our band’s music.
Zacky Vengeance: Same here! I used to be a big Jimmy Page fan... until I realized that I like Jimmy Reed even more.
Jimmy Reed: Aw, thank you!
M Shadows: What about you, Jimmy? What do you think about Led Zeppelin?
Jimmy Reed: Well, I think they could’ve been a bit more prudent with giving credit where deserved - but I can’t deny their influence on the future of rock music.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, I’m not sure if Avenged Sevenfold would’ve been possible without them - but, likewise, Led Zeppelin... and, indeed, the entire genre of hard rock... wouldn’t be possible without blues music.
Jimmy Reed: And I don’t think my music would’ve been possible without Robert Johnson, Son House, and John Lee Williamson... a.k.a. the first Sonny Boy Williamson.
M Shadows: I know I can’t really dictate what music others should listen to - but I think anyone who digs rock music should, at least, give blues music a try. The blues are the roots, and rock music is... the fruits.
*What is your view on woman’s rights?*
M Shadows: Well, I firmly believe that women should have all the same rights that men do. I know I once really slammed feminists - but, as long as they’re reasonable people who don’t blame the entire male population for all their problem, then I’ve no issue with them.
Zacky Vengeance: There are definitely legit issues, though, with how some of us men are trained to view women. I think that stuff is worth criticizing, but not to the point of demonizing an entire group of people.
Jimmy Reed: Indeed, there are some... worldviews... that we, at a society, could maybe rethink. In short, we should do our best to be polite and considerate to one another - but, at the same time, not be quick to attack people for... minor missteps. So... that’s where I stand on this.
*What do you think about The Beatles?*
M Shadows: Well, I do like some of their music - but I think they might not be quite as influential as... they’re often made out to be.
Zacky Vengeance, Yeah, not to disparage The Beatles in any way - but The Rolling Stones came out at around the same time.
Jimmy Reed: I can definitely understand why many people enjoy their music. I can’t honestly rank them amongst my favourite, though. But that’s my opinion.
*What do you think about rock and roll music?*
M Shadows: *chuckling* Well, we’re a rock band! What do you think?
Zacky Vengeance: *laughing* Yeah, we hate rock and roll. That’s why Avenged Sevenfold is a bluegrass band.
Jimmy Reed: *smiling* Wow! You both crack me up. But, yeah, I can appreciate many types of music - including rock and roll.
*What do you think about rap?*
M Shadows: Some of it is pretty enjoyable, actually.
Zacky Vengeance: Yeah, such as I Love Big Butts by Sir Mix-a-lot.
M Shadows: Actually, that song is called Baby Got Back.
Zacky Vengeance: Oops, you’re right. My mistake.
Jimmy Reed: I do like some of it, some of the time... as long as the lyrics have a good message to it.
*Do you like the word “harmony”?*
M Shadows: Oh, certainly! Lovely word, and could certainly use more of it in this world.
Zacky Vengeance: Oh, definitely love me some “harmony”. Both in music and in life.
Jimmy Reed: Indeed! That’s a very beautiful word. I even have a great-granddaughter turned daughter... Remember, earlier on, I said my family dynamics were quite unusual? Well, why great-granddaughter turned daughter is named Harmony. She’s a very sweet girl, too. Of course, *all* of my children are such sweeties!
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Get to know the writer tag
Tagged by @sweetcatminteareblog~
Rules: answer 10 questions, tag 10 people, and write 10 more questions
1. If you could spend the day with one of your OCs who would it be and why?
I think I’d hang with Zakuru. We’re both introverted and not that talkative so it would be perfect! Or we could just tag team video games together which is nice too =w= Or have some tea
2. Which of your own worlds would you most/least like to live in?
Wow so I haven’t talked about my other worlds really. Well, I’d like to live in Eden if and only if I was also a changeling, otherwise it would be boring lol
3. What is your favourite trope to write?
Oh we talked about this recently! I can’t really think of a favorite, but I do like the quiet older brother types. But also Berserk Buttons, are very fun to write >w<
4. Do you have a favourite writing snack?
Funny how food is brought up so much whilst writing! How can you if you get residue on your fingers? But sometimes me nomming on a kashi bar isn’t that bad.
5. Which of your OCs is most like you?
So I am a healthy blend of Zakuru and Yoko, but I guess originally speaking, At first glance, Zakuru is more like me in the sense that I am very shy, not that great with communication, and ... i get a lot of compliments about being kind and sweet so ^w^;
Though if you put all of the main cast together you’d get me as well lol
6. Follow up from 5: Does this make them easier or harder to write for you?
It is very hard to write Zakuru since she’s more... fragile and damaged than me. Complex characters you know.
7. Describe yourself using only vine references
https://youtu.be/fHGZ52Mp88k
8. Which authors/artists/musicians/creators have inspired you?
The things that have inspired me, I was too young and didn’t care for the names (Naruto, Hush Hush series, RedWall, Golden Sun series), but I can say firmly that as of now there is Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante Dimartino (ATLA), Joe Hisaishi, Hayao Miyazaki, and Glen Keane.
9. Favourite song/album?
Too many songs and genres! XD
(Odezsa, Savant, too much stuff from video games, Galimatias, Volbeat)
10. What kind of pet do you most want?
Give me a cat and dog that love each other and then I can die happy.
11. (Bonus Thing!) What is your favourite line from your current wip?
“Your sister died that day, your Highness. What you have here is just a doppelgänger.” Ginga frowns.
Gave me a beautiful AU idea lol
Questions (im assuming from my tag?):
1. You’re on a deserted island with three books (and one ‘survival guide for dummies’) which are they?
@ragethewriter‘s trilogy lol
Um, maybe redwall because technically speaking I never read the books, only watched the cartoon
2. Is there an OC that you would not like to meet in real life?
.....Considering the damage I’ve done to them, maybe not many. But Hey! THERE’S HARU! Haru is great! He wouldn’t kill me ;w;
3. Would you rather be a famous as an author/content producer or have your characters be famous?
I think for me, specifically my characters. But I’m fine with either way lol
4. Which OC would you most like to see fanart of?
Zakuru and Draco ;w;
I’m trash that loves her antag way too much
5. What’s your favourite feature of one of your OCs?
Kabuto’s tattoos :3
6. What’s your favourite character trope (in your wip or in general)?
See question 3 above~
7. Where do you like to create?
At a desk hopefully lol
8. What’s one non-writing skill you have?
Martial arts?
9. Is there a book you used to love but grew out of?
One could easily say all those childrens books they were given....but it is not the case here. I think the hunger games? But I don’t really have a habit of rereading books anyway.
10. What’s your favourite scene from your wip? (Can be planned or written) (Doesn’t have to be the actual scene word for word, a general overview is good)
Either spoilers in the climax where bad things happen, or when Zakuru sees Kabuto in the climax and someone gets their shit wrecked lol
1. What hogwarts house are you in?
2. Describe your dream book cover
3. What platform do you use to write?
4. What is one thing you want your current/future fans to take away from your story?
5. What are some aesthetics/themes to your story, setting, or characters?
i’m olly gonna do 5 questions because im a busy bee! imma taaag...
@kainablue @ragethewriter @authorkimberlygrey @incandescent-creativity @godlyundertones @
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Survey #162
“in catholic school, vicious as roman rule, i got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black, and i held my tongue as she told me, ‘son, fear is the heart of love,’ so i never went back.”
Has a rainy day ever ruined your plans? I'm guessing at some point.
Do you think you could survive a month of solitary confinement? HAHAHAHA NO I'd lose my fucking mind.
What is something that you find utterly boring? TV in most cases. It's honestly really difficult for me to get into shows and be consistently entertained by them.
What noise/sound can put you to sleep? Rain.
When you are upset, do you tend to shut others out? It depends. Sometimes I seek comfort in others, other times I isolate.
When was the last time you felt abandoned by someone? Recently.
Does the sight of blood gross you out? Nope.
Do you like red roses, or do you prefer another color? No preference, really.
What is something you like to eat that is red? Strawberries.
Have you ever gone through a red light? No.
Do you fail to stop for stop signs, sometimes? No.
When was the last time you were near the ocean? A couple months ago.
What is your favorite eye color in the opposite sex? Bright blue.
During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? 2016 was born of Satan himself.
Have you ever seen a bluejay in person? Yeah, but now they give me a somewhat uncomfortable vibe, all the while thinking they're beautiful. Jason's nickname was "J Bird" by his father, and I collected feathers when I found them outside.
Have you ever consumed a blue-colored drink? Mountain Dew Voltage is actually holy water.
Is there anything you recycle, or should recycle? Ugh, we did recycle cans, but don't now. Mom got tired of going to do it. However, we do keep plastic bags for cleaning up a mess the dogs might make, and I also use it when changing Roman's litter.
Do you like leaves better in the summer/spring, or in the fall? Is ANYONE going to answer with other than fall???
What is your favorite aspect of life? Just. Experiencing it, experiencing the emotions, feeling alive and real and valid even with how incredibly fleeting we are in the eternal universe. I really can't stand nihilism. Like make a DIFFERENCE, because enough of those change the world.
When was the last time you were purposely amongst nature? Not since going out on that walk like... forever ago. I can't do this heat, but here, I don't really. Have anywhere to go.
What do you think of global warming & the greenhouse effect? If you don't believe in them, honestly, just don't talk to me.
Do you typically like green-colored candies? Yessss, apple-flavored. <3
Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? Hmmm, that I personally know? I'm not sure.
Who makes you smile the most often? Sara and Mark can do it at a snap of the finger. Magicians.
How do you express your happiness? I become very vocally affectionate and obsessively express love for others, care more than ever at cheering others up, and I smile, laugh, and talk more.
Has someone helped you out in a big way, recently? I don't know about /big/ way recently.
Do you like to sing? I think I'm starting to??? I don't like my voice, but. It feels good to do.
Where is somewhere that holds fond memories for you? This fishing spot deep in the woods that Dad and I would go to a lot to catch mostly striper. I loved that it was in the core of nature. Sometimes I would just stop fishing to explore.
Do you like to watch the setting/rising sun? Always when I get the opportunity.
Do you know of anyone who is going down the wrong track? Shit, most people I know. Most people I was friends with.
Have you ever encountered a black widow? I believe so? Pretty positive at least once. They're so pretty to me, buuut not touchin'.
What scares you, more than anything else? Losing those that mean most to me. I fear them leaving me in life by choice more than them dying, possibly.
If there was no afterlife, could you handle it? Uh, I have to???? I wouldn't be aware of anything?????
When in life did you feel the most care-free? Obviously as a child.
Are you well-hydrated? Do you like water? Technically, no. I drink about two bottles a day I'd say, but that's not actually enough. I'm not a big fan of water, but. I do it for my health.
Has an animal ever peed on you? Lol Venus did once when she was chilling on me for a long time, and some rodents I've had probably have.
What would make a cool substitute color for the sun? Let her be p i n k.
Which do you prefer: purple or pink? Can you guess???
What is your favorite color of the sunset/sunrise? *screams in pink*
Is purple a good color for a car? Yaaaas.
Do you prefer green or purple/red grapes? Purple. The green ones usually aren't firm enough for my taste.
What color is your birthstone? Purple.
Do you prefer hardly toasted at all or burnt toast? Barely toasted.
Do you prefer guitar or piano music? Guitar if it's electric, but otherwise usually piano.
Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? I don't believe so.
Have you ever wished you’d been born someplace else? Yup. I'd far rather prefer to have not been born here.
Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? Wanted.
What’s a habit you find gross? Smoking.
What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever seen? This girl got her boyfriend's name a c r o s s h e r f a c e.
What’s your favorite name ever? Alessandra.
Think of how you used to be 3 years ago: how do you feel about who you were back then? Depressed as fuck.
What’s the strangest fortune you’ve ever gotten from a fortune cookie? None come to mind.
Do people ever force you to eat? Biiiitch you ain't gotta force me lmao.
Is there a TV show you’ve wanted to start watching but never gotten around to? When I actually watched TV, uh... I'm not sure.
When’s the last time you felt pressured to do something you didn’t really want to do? Not sure.
Who was the last person to mess with your feelings? Mini.
When was the last time you were in denial about something? What about? Boy, so many "I dunno"-type answers lol. I'm not really one for denial.
Is there any certain style of architecture you really enjoy? GOTHIC.
What was the last thing you gave up on? Colleen. 110% done with her ass.
How easy is it for you to talk to someone else about your feelings? IT'S HARD.
If you watch Parks and Recreation, who is your favorite character? Don't watch.
Do you like watching documentaries? About animals, yes.
What’s the last DIY project you did, if any? If you can’t remember, what’s something you’d be interested in doing? I've never done one. I suppose I'd like some Halloween ones I've seen.
When’s the last time you had a problem that nobody could help you with? Recently. Friendship stuff.
Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No.
How many times a week do you shower? Is this a healthy thing for you? Four, usually. It's good for me.
How many times a day do you eat a full meal? Is this a healthy thing to you? Like... maybe only once. Or none.
What’s your favorite movie? Why do you like this movie so much? The Lion King. Who doesn't love it???
What’s your favorite genre of movies? Why is this? Horror. They just give me adrenaline, and I think about what if that actually happened.
How many times a day do you say I love you? Who to usually? Always before bed to Sara. Sometimes multiple times a day to her. Always to Mom if she's leaving to go somewhere for a while.
Do you prefer hoodies or jackets? Why do you prefer this choice? Hoodies. Just more comfy to me.
Have you ever contemplated suicide before? Ever attempted it before? Contemplated a million times. Attempted once.
Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? Yes, and no. They have horrifying potential to cause serious pain and warrant torture. Then I was running to slit my throat the night of the breakup, but Mom had to physically stop me, so I'm just. Uncomfortable around them.
What would you consider to be the worst television channel out there? MTV.
Have you ever had anyone drop off animals at your house and what kind? No.
Do you remember when some of the Walmarts had a McDonald’s in them? Both the two in my area still do.
When was the last time you were stung by a bee and what kind was it? Early spring, maybe? It was a bumblebee.
Do you know anyone personally who had their house burn down before? Yes.
Do you think the media can further manipulate our teenagers anymore? HAHAHAHA IT'LL NEVER END.
Have you ever had someone sympathetically lie to make you feel better? Probably.
Do you know anyone who has their septum pierced and does it look painful? Yes, and for me personally, yes, because I have thick cartilage.
Has anyone ever kissed you in the rain and did it seem romantic at the time? Yeah, and I guess.
When was the last time you listened to a genre of you music you despise? A couple days ago in the car. "IDFC" by Blackbear came on and I love that song okay.
Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? No.
Does your ex still think about you? Probably not.
Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? Sara.
Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? More like literally all night with a few pauses.
What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black.
Have you ever been to an auto show? When I was very young because our family friend invited us to one. I was too young to stay home alone.
Do you know anyone who still doesn’t have a smart phone? Maybe.
Have you ever been on a cruise? No.
Have you ever had an x-ray? Yes.
What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Honey ham, but I can't eat it anymore.
What letter does your surname begin with? "D."
Did you have a New Years kiss this year? No.
Do you prefer to eat carrots raw or cooked? I hate carrots so much.
What was the first video game you remember playing? Spyro.
What is your favorite flavor of Skittles? Red.
Have you ever met a famous political figure? No.
What’s your go-to website when you’re really bored? I guess Facebook if it's been some hours since I looked.
What is your favorite chocolate bar? The Reeses one made of little rectangles. But if you mean like, a *traditional* bar, Milky Way.
What is your least favorite Sour Patch Kids color? Orange.
Have you ever seen the movie Matilda? Yesss, adore it.
Are you allergic to nuts or diary products? No.
Do you have trust issues? "Pistanthrophobia: fear of trusting people due to past experience and relationships gone wrong."
Do you think age matters in relationships? In romantic ones, yes it does if one is a juvenile. I can't find anything morally wrong with adults and big gaps, but they creep me out regardless.
Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No.
Have you ever had your nails so long that they curved down at the ends?
Omg no.
Do you always wear flip flops no matter what the weather is? Is this??????? A direct attack?????????
Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty feet? No, but it'd creep me the fuck out.
If you don’t have one already, would you consider getting an iPhone? I want one.
Who would you consider your favorite stand-up comedian? Living, not sure. Actually, probably Gabriel Iglesias.
Would you say you’re too experienced or too inexperienced for your age? The latter.
What is your favorite neon color? Ever buy nail polish that color? Pink. I don't paint my nails.
Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No.
Would you ever consider yourself over-dramatic? Not usually, but I can be.
How often do you text people? Who do you text the most? Everyday, and Sara.
What would you consider your second choice as a dream career? I really don't know. Both my dream jobs aren't obtainable for me, but uh. I guess something involving art.
What is the longest amount of time you’ve played video games consecutively? Ha, definitely when a new WoW expansion came out. Can't remember if I played WoD or Legion longer in one go.
Do you ever use cheats when you play video games? The kind that makes shit easier, no. Aesthetic changes, sure.
Does your family go 'all out’ during the holidays? No.
What’s your favorite kind of lunch meat to put on a sandwich? Ham, when I ate meat.
When will you next see the person you love or are in love with? OCTOBER 3RD.
Do you have anything that’s limited edition?
Maybe?
How well can you handle vulgar things (i.e. gore, disturbing images, etc)?
I have a pretty high tolerance. But not so much at like disgusting medical issues.
Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? I'm most likely marrying a girl. And I'm a girl, so.
Who was the last male you hung out with? My dad!
Who is your favorite person to text? Sara. She texts just like she talks, so I actually have interesting and more "real" conversations with her.
What’s one nickname your family calls you? Just "Britt," really.
Has anyone ever mistaken you for being gay/lesbian/bi? I had a therapist once who thought I was gay in middle school, so before I realized I was bi.
Explain why you last threw up? A medicine I was on REALLY didn't like me.
Ever kissed your best friend's significant other? That would be me. :'D But if you don't count Sara, no.
Everyone deserves a second chance, right? Nooope.
Would you ever want to ride in a canoe? I'd love to!!!
Gay marriage: love is love or a horrible stand against God? Fuck any "loving" god who thinks consensual, sincere love is evil. Honestly. I will never be able to fathom how I was once against it.
Do people tell you that you have an accent? No.
Have you ever had an eating disorder? No.
Do you prefer road trips or traveling on an airplane? Road triiiips!
Do you enjoy tanning? Not at all.
Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club and what’s your opinion of it? I didn't get the hype at all.
Have you ever touched a dead body? Dead pets.
Which of the seven deadly sins do you commit the most? Sloth.
Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Yes. Demonic creatures.
What part of your body are you self-conscious about? Everything???? But my stomach more than anything.
Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah.
Have you ever been drunk at school or work? Nah.
Have you finished school yet? I'm resuming college in January.
What is your favorite kind of fruit juice? Mango and peach.
Have you ever used a muscle stimulator before? Did it hurt? No.
Have you ever done anything dangerous enough to have risked your life? Overdosing. Other things that we don't really think about too, like driving.
Do you consider yourself egotistical? Do people call you egotistical? Not at all. I don't think anyone has?
What gives you anxiety? So much, but I'll try to list those I can think of. Socializing (especially with those I don't know well), deciding the appropriate amount of eye contact when talking, making phone calls, driving, public speaking, being beside 18-wheelers, talking about things I'm really really passionate about, asking for things, awkward silences, answering the door for anyone (like when pizza is delivered and such), most men making even the slightest move that could be seen as flirting, and the list goes on and on.
Could you ever be a medical guinea pig? Fuck that.
Whats your favorite letter of the alphabet? "Z," maybe. Or "x."
Whats your favorite Disney movie? TLK. "Finding Nemo" is right behind it.
Have you ever handled a snake? Plenty of times.
Could you ever be a living organ donor? For my mom, Dad, Sara, or my sisters, yes. Mom only has one kidney so I'd give up one of mine in a heartbeat if the last one was going.
Have you ever contemplated suing someone? No.
Have you ever drawn on a sleeping or inebriated person? No.
Is it acceptable or unacceptable to smack a child as form of discipline? Fuck no.
What’s your favorite way to dress? I feel most like myself in a gothic or metalhead look.
What movie/game/etc. helps you calm down? My best bet of calming down via media is watch Mark. Probably go to old favorites. No movie is guaranteed to help me. Playing Silent Hill can soothe me, though. Ironically. Primarily the second. I think its the subtle ambiance and the steady footsteps that just relax me a bit. BUT SH2 also has my favorite soundtrack, so the actual music in it just does it for me.
Do you believe in auras? I think I might? The concept is very interesting and some people really are talented at picking up the vibes of others. Animals are especially talented at that.
What instrument do you wish you could master? Guitar.
What do you put on hotdogs? When I ate them, ketchup and mustard.
Do you have an unpopular opinion? What is it? Guacamole is fucking disgusting.
Have you ever legitimately saved a person's life? No.
What's your favorite book genre? Tbh, if I was to start reading again, I almost feel like it'd be something like teen/young adult romance???? Or fantasy, idk. Actually why not both.
Do dogs like you? No joke, I've never had a dog be wary of me for more than a minute or so when first meeting me, rarely even that. Even when I go to others' houses and they have a usually uncertain dog, it's always pointed out that it's strange how (s)he takes to me so quickly.
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Aleesah Darlison
Aleesah Darlison is a multi-published Australian children's author. She writes picture books and novels, both in the contemporary fiction and fantasy genres. She also works as a book reviewer for The Sun Herald. She is the author of Our Class Tiger which made the Wilderness Society 2015 children¿s book award shortlist in the category of Nonfiction.
Quinn's Riddles (Unicorn Riders Book 1) By Aleesah Darlison Buy on Amazon
Aleesah's picture books include Bearly There, Puggle's Problem (NSW PRC) and Warambi (2012 CBCA Notable Book Eve Pownall Award, 2012 Wilderness Society Award for Children's Literature - Shortlist). Her chapter books include Fangs and Little Good Wolf. Her novels and popular series are I Dare You, Unicorn Riders and Totally Twins.
Aleesah has won numerous awards for her writing including an ASA mentorship. Aleesah's short stories have appeared in the black dog books Short and Scary Anthology, Chicken Soup for the Soul, The School Magazine and Little Ears Magazine. She is a founding director of Literature Live! an organisation delivering literary content to schools through video conferencing technology.
What are one to three books that have greatly influenced your life?
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (The Chronicles of Narnia) By C. S. Lewis
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
Wuthering Heights (Penguin Classics) By Emily Brontë, Pauline Nestor
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
The Mortymer Trilogy By Alexander Cordell
The Mortymer Trilogy by Alexander Cordell
What purchase of $100 or less has most positively impacted your life in the last six months (or in recent memory)?
I signed up for a 30 day home workout challenge through Betty Rocker. The challenge was free, but I paid for Betty’s meal plan AND converted to a plant based diet.
Without sounding like a weight loss advertisement, focusing on getting fit and healthy has had THE MOST POSITIVE IMPACT on my life. My husband has joined in too so we do the exercises together.
As an author, I sit at my desk A LOT, and I travel A LOT so I’m often sitting to drive or fly. Moving more and taking care of my health has been the best thing I’ve done for myself in a long, long while.
How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?
Failure and rejection as an author (on so many manuscripts!) has given me a thick skin to make me more resilient and better able to cope with the writing life’s ups and downs.
Are there any quotes you think of often or live your life by?
I’ve had this quote beside my desk for at least ten years, funny how it mentions failure…
If you have made mistakes … there is always another chance for you … you may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.
Mary Pickford (1893 – 1979), American actress
What is one of the best investment in a writing resource you’ve ever made?
Workshops and courses through Writing NSW. Invaluable workshops that set me on the path to publication. Several were run by Di Bates. Learning from established, experienced authors set you up for life.
What is an unusual habit or an absurd thing that you love?
Salt and vinegar chips. Salt and vinegar with oranges and lemons. Salt and vinegar with most things, really1
In the last five years, what new belief, behaviour, or habit has most improved your life?
Yoga and the exercise I’ve been doing lately. A little ‘me’ time and fitness to feel good about yourself go a long way.
What advice would you give to a smart, driven aspiring author? What advice should they ignore?
Know the rules of the author game, but make sure you play your own game when it comes to writing. Don’t worry about what everyone else is out there doing – you’ll be eaten alive by self-doubt and worry otherwise. After all, it’s a competitive market. Just write the best story you can then submit to publishers only when the story is ready. And advice to ignore? That being an author will make you mega-rich like JK. Those successes are incredibly rare, so be happy with your success.
What are bad recommendations you hear in your profession often?
Probably the worst is: Don’t read other books in your genre because it will adversely affect your writing. This is so not true! Reading can only ever engage and enlighten the mind.
In the last five years, what have you become better at saying no to (distractions, invitations, etc.)?
Nothing! I’m terrible at saying no.
What marketing tactics should authors avoid?
Shamelessly and clumsily talking about their books ALL THE TIME. Sometimes listening is a better marketing tool than forcing yourself (or your book) on someone.
What new realizations and/or approaches have helped you achieve your goals?
Using Skype or Zoom and other online platforms to communicate with and teach other authors in the various writing workshops and mentorships that I run. It’s been a huge time saving advice but still allows for a one-to-one personal interaction.
When you feel overwhelmed or have lost your focus temporarily, what do you do?
Take the dog for a walk. Vacuum. Play with my kids. Read a book. All of the above if necessary!
Any other tips?
Write what you know, write what you love. Find happiness in your writing, even if you’re not aiming for publication, because writing is one of the greatest joys we humans have … and it’s all literally right at our fingertips!
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source https://www.thecommunitywriter.com/blog/aleesah-darlison
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