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augustmoon259 · 3 years

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"Unholy Blood" Pureblood!Fem!Vampire Reader x Hayan Park

Ten years ago, people who could transform into vampires began to appear in Korea. Ever since then, these morphing vampires have been slaughtering people while hiding their true identities. But there's something that people don't know. A secret, that if it got out, would change the world and the way that people saw vampires forever.

Pureblood vampires. Vampires who are stronger, faster, and more powerful in every way. How do I know about them? Because I am a pureblood vampire.

o - o - o - o - o

My parents were both pureblood vampires. They used to live in Korea, before they had me. They decided to move to the US and settle down in a small town.

My life was a peaceful one. Sure, it was hard trying to hide my identity as a vampire, but it wasn't that bad. I was homeschooled, up until I was ready to go off to college.

College was a new experience for me. I had fun making new friends, taking classes taught by different teachers, and being in a new environment. I went home to visit my parents during breaks.

I wish I had gotten to say goodbye to them, if I knew that I'd never be able to see them again.

o - o - o - o - o

It was winter break. I was excited to see my parents again and spend time with them during the holidays. I had plans for movies we could watch together, games we could play, and more.

The bus stopped in my neighborhood, and I got off, still brimming with anticipation. That is, until I saw the smoke.

The smoke was coming from the direction of my family's home. I ran there as fast as I could. When I got there, I saw the firefighters putting out the last of the flames.

Our house was a complete wreck. I frantically rushed past the onlookers and firefighters to dig through the rubble, and search for my parents. I was dragged away, still screaming and sobbing.

Later, the police told me about what had happened. It was reported that two explosions were heard from our house, and then a fire started not long after. The firefighters were dispatched, but it still took a while for them to get from the station to our house. They found my parents' bodies, unrecognizable as they were.

The explosions were written off as gas leaks, since our house was an old one. This may have been a reasonable explanation to anyone else, but not me. I knew better.

We were pureblood vampires.

Any regular vampire that manages to consume the heart of a pureblood vampire would become a pureblood vampire themself. We knew this, but we thought we were safe here in the US, when vampires began to appear in Korea ten years ago.

My parents must have sacrificed themselves to destroy their hearts, along with their attackers.

Our mailbox still had some mail in it. Bills to pay, letters for my parents, and letters for me as well. I expected this. What I was not expecting was the note left in the mailbox, addressed to me.

If you want revenge for your parents' deaths, come to Korea.

I crushed the note in my hand.

Whoever came after my parents didn't succeed, but it cost my parents their lives. Now they're after me. They know I exist.

Fine. If they think I'll be easy prey, I'll prove them wrong.

o - o - o - o - o

Living in Korea was different from living in the States.

I had applied to study abroad, and the university I applied for was Hanguk University. I managed to rent an apartment at a decent price in a modest neighborhood. I heard that there was a nice church in the area, run by a priest who also takes care of orphans from the nearby orphanage.

It was hard enough adjusting to life in another country, never mind one where bloodthirsty monsters come out at night. Lucky for me, I had the distinct advantage of being one of those "monsters".

Admittedly, not only did I feel guilty for not being able to prevent my parents' deaths, I realized what a privileged life I had been living. All my life, just on the other side of the world, there were innocent people being terrorized by vampires.

But now I'm here, and I have the power to do something about it.

I'd find whoever was responsible for my parents' murders, and I'll rid the world of vampires, one bastard at a time.

Between going out at night to kill vampires, and scrounging up information about their secret hierarchy and criminal underworld, I was also busy with my normal, "human" life.

I attended the orientation for my new university.

Yet it wasn't at the orientation that I'd meet the woman who'd change my life.

o - o - o - o - o

The first day of school was always the same: new students rushing to find their classes, old students saying hi to their friends, and teachers making note of who to look out for that year.

I greeted a few people I had met at the orientation, but there was one girl who was going around greeting...everyone. She was quite pretty, with dark brown hair and eyes.

She was so enthusiastic, bowing her head at every person she came across, that I couldn't help but smile.

With her friendly demeanor, I was sure she'd already have made plenty of friends, but I noticed later that she had no one to sit at lunch with. I myself was sitting alone, but that was of my own volition. I debated whether or not to go to her table and sit with her, but I opted not to, in the end.

Over the next few days, I kept seeing her around. She still greeted everyone cheerfully, and had earned the nickname "Miss Popular" around campus. I found it very fitting for her.

Things continued on like this. Her, greeting everyone with enthusiasm but sitting alone. Me, silently watching her.

I decided that I had done enough observing, and that it was time to formally meet her.

Bringing my lunch with me over to her table, I sat across from her. She had started eating her lunch by then, so when I unexpectedly arrived at her table, she choked on her food.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?!"

I got up from my seat, prepared to do the Heimlich maneuver if necessary, but she waved a hand to stop me, and grabbed a nearby water bottle with the other hand to drink. She beat her chest a few times until she was no longer gasping, and I sat down when I confirmed that she was fine. Other people who had noticed the incident went back to eating their lunches.

We sat there, awkwardly gazing at each other, until she groaned and covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"Nice going Hayan...first person who decides to sit with you at lunch, and you make a fool of yourself..."

"Oh no, that was my fault! I'm sorry for surprising you like that...so, uh, your name is Hayan?"

Hayan took one hand off her face, before slowly removing her remaining hand.

"Yes, my name is Hayan...Park Hayan."

I introduced myself, and then we...shook hands. I decided to start a new topic of conversation, before Hayan had an existential crisis.

"Hayan...is it alright if I call you Hayan?"

She nodded her head affirmatively before waiting for what else I had to say.

"I hope this isn't out of line for me to say, but I've sort of been watching you for a while now. I notice that you always say hi to everyone, but you're still sitting alone at lunch? Um, Hayan, do you have friends?"

Hayan looked taken aback for a moment, before hanging her head in shame.

"It's...it's complicated? I've been trying to make friends, and since I didn't attend the orientation, I thought saying hi to everyone would be a surefire way to meet new people, but I haven't had much luck..."

"You didn't attend the orientation? So that's why I didn't recognize you. Hayan, if you're trying to make new friends, would you...like to be friends?"

"Seriously?! I mean, how could I reject?!"

Hayan enthusiastically slammed her hands on the table and jumped up, before sheepishly sitting back down when she noticed people's curious glances.

"Yes! Let's be friends!"

I talked with Hayan until lunch was over, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. Neither Hayan nor I were able to finish our lunches, busy as we were with chatting with each other. We decided to exchange phone numbers to keep in touch with each other.

After that, I wasn't occupied with just school and my nighttime activities. I hung out with Hayan outside of school. We went to cafes and coffee shops to get drinks and spend more time with each other.

She and I were the same age: twenty. When I applied to Hanguk University, I had to apply as a freshman, since not all of my credits from my previous college transferred over.

Hayan was looking forward to a get together that some seniors had organized at a pub. Students from every year would be there, and she hoped to meet other freshman besides me. I wasn't one for drinking, since vampires couldn't get drunk anyway, but I decided to go for Hayan's sake.

Gatherings of college students tend to go south pretty quickly, but it was what happened after that was a disaster.

o - o - o - o - o

The pub was crowded, noisy, and filled with the laughter and shouting of overexcited young adults.

I sat down at a random table with Hayan. When we sat down, I heard someone suggest a drinking game to lighten the mood. Next thing I knew, we were all pointing fingers at each other, and Hayan was the unfortunate person chosen to drink.

Two hours and several more drinking games later, Hayan was still unsuccessful at making another friend. I was surprised to note that Hayan was not a lightweight at all. She had drunk nearly twenty bottles of soju by herself! And If I was being honest with myself, I thought that made her even more amazing than she already was.

"Hayan, do you want to go home now?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so...It seems my latest plan to make friends failed..."

In my head, I could see the comical tears of defeat in her eyes.

Hayan got up and grabbed her bag, but before we left the pub, a senior announced one last drinking competition. It was between a heavyset senior named Jang and anyone who dared to challenge him. If no one won, the freshman had to show off a talent during our start of year trip.

I knew what was coming before anyone else. I decided to take bets, and when the drinking match was over, I made a nice one hundred thousand won from people who had bet Hayan would lose.

Actually, calling it a "match" would be wrong. It was so one-sided, I almost felt bad for Jang.

Hayan finally got her wish granted. I saw two freshman asking Hayan for her number to join their study group. As I looked at Hayan's giddy face, and the admiring expressions of everyone else around us, I felt happy for Hayan.

Just when Hayan was making a toast to her victory, the sirens went off.

The joy of everyone around us immediately died out, to be replaced with worry and fear instead.

People scrambled to gather their belongings and leave the pub, and I hurried over to Hayan's side.

"Come on, Hayan. We'd better go. The sirens mean that vampires will be out soon..."

"Right! Um, let's go!"

We left the pub, prepared to follow everyone else in order to catch the last bus.

"Hayan! Let me walk you home!"

Before I knew what was happening, there was a random guy standing in front of Hayan. He completely ignored me. If that wasn't enough to piss me off, his condescending smirk and the arrogant way he held himself did. Let me guess, this guy's one of those idiots who try to act macho in front of girls to impress them.

"Um, no thank you. I already have a friend I'm walking home with..."

"A friend? Sure you do. Come on, what are you so afraid of? Me?"

"Hey buster, back off. She already said she's got someone to walk home with!"

I shoved him away. As he recovered from my unexpected interference, he quickly masked his anger with the same infuriating smirk. He gave me a once over, before his smirk widened.

"So this must be the friend you mentioned. Well, I can always walk you both home."

Great. Just great. Not only is he wasting our precious time, he's hitting on Hayan and me.

"Tch. Fine. Clearly you're invested in walking with us, for some unfathomable reason, so I'll deign to let you join us, but only if I'm between you and Hayan."

He seemed to be more interested in Hayan than me, so I thought putting myself between her and him would get him to stop talking. Instead, he kept blabbering on about how vampires are no big deal, and there's nothing to worry about.

He's extremely lucky that we finally made it to the bus stop. Otherwise, I might have punched him.

There were some people running to get on the bus before it left. The annoying guy was still flirting with Hayan, but my attention was diverted when I heard a crash. The three of us turned our heads toward the source of the noise.

It was a man who had been thrown on the ground. The other man standing above him was obviously a gangster, a loan shark out to collect his debt. My intuition told me something bad was going to happen, and not because of the loan shark.

Sometimes, I hate being right.

It happened faster than the human eye could see, but I could discern perfectly with my vision. The man on the ground thrust his arm straight through the loan shark's chest.

As he stood up and shoved the now dead body off himself, the vampire walked closer step by step to Hayan and I. The annoying senior had long run away. He really was just a coward in the end. I would deal with him tomorrow. Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.

Normally, I'd just transform and then kill this no-name vampire, but I had to worry about Hayan. She was digging through her bag, looking for something. If only the bus was still around. Then Hayan could have run away and escaped.

I made a split second decision.

"Hayan. Listen to me. Run away as far as you can and don't look back."

"What? But, what about you? I can't leave you here alone!"

"Damn it Hayan, please just run away!"

"And where do you think you're going, bitch?!"

The vampire lunged towards Hayan and grabbed her hair. Before he could bite her, I transformed and slammed him to the ground. I smashed his head in, and watched as his body scattered into dust.

With the immediate threat out of the way, I checked on Hayan. She had fallen on the ground when the vampire let go of her hair. I helped her as she stood up weakly. Hayan blinked, as she alternated between looking at the crater where the vampire used to be, and me. I spread my arms out to either side, and gazed steadily back at her.

"This is me. This is who I really am. I'm a vampire, a monster that people want dead. Hayan...do you hate me too?"

I waited with bated breath for her answer. The truth is, I could erase her memories. Make it so she never remembered what happened this night. But I didn't want to.

Ever since my parents died, I had no one else who knew the truth of who I really was. I was good at pretending. I've been doing it my whole life. But I needed just one person I didn't have to pretend with, and I hoped that person could be Hayan.

Hayan studied my white hair and blue eyes. She looked pensive.

"No...no I don't hate you. Because you're my friend."

She hugged me, and if I noticed that her hold was tighter than normal, I didn't mention it.

"Hayan...thank you."

I hugged her back.

We remained like that for a while, until I offered to take her home.

"Wait, you want to...you want to carry me?! In-in your arms?!"

"Well, yes. I could also give you a piggyback ride, but since I'll be running and jumping on rooftops, this should be more comfortable for you."

"O-okay."

Putting one arm under Hayan's legs, and the other supporting her back, I made sure Hayan was securely in my hold when I leapt from the ground. Hayan kept her eyes closed the entire time, until I landed with a thump in front of the church.

"Good night, Hayan."

I smiled softly and gave Hayan a small wave, before hurrying home.

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I grew closer after that night.

Since I no longer had to pretend I was human around her, I invited her over to my apartment, and vice versa. She introduced me to her "father" and her "siblings".

"It's nice to meet you sir. I mean, Father Michael. Um, Father-Michael-sir?"

As it turns out, Hayan was an orphan. I knew she lived in the same neighborhood as me, but not at the orphanage next to the church that I heard about when I first rented my apartment. The neighborhood ladies were always giggling about Father Michael, but he was more intimidating in person, even to a pureblood vampire like me.

"At ease. You're the friend Hayan has been talking about?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Hayan was fighting back laughter behind me, while I kept on sweating nervously.

"It's good she has a friend like you."

"Thank you, Father!"

I barely held back a sigh of relief that I seemed to make a good impression on Hayan's adoptive father. It was time to meet the younger siblings now.

"Woah! This is all for us?!"

Hayan's adoptive siblings, Yerim and Yunsu, bounced around eagerly when they saw I had brought bread for them. Hayan told me her siblings really loved bread, especially sticky rice bread. I had bought a couple for them from the school dining hall, and then went to a bakery to buy some more bread (mochi, sesame, tapioca, etc.) Since I couldn't eat any of it myself, I bought what was recommended to me by the baker, and hoped for the best.

"Hayan! You need to bring your friend by more often!"

"You are my new favorite person!"

"I thought I was your favorite person?!"

I chuckled as Hayan chased her siblings around in order to catch them and tickle them.

Hayan has such a lovely family. It's no wonder she's also a lovely person.

o - o - o - o - o

It was a normal evening at the university. I had stayed behind at school to work on homework and assignments with some classmates.

The student body was abuzz today with new gossip about the "super senior". He was the senior who had entered college nine years ago, and still had yet to graduate. This was none of my business. What was my business was that he was rude and a bully. In fact, just that afternoon, he had bumped into Hayan and insulted her instead of apologizing. If I saw him, I'd give him a piece of my mind, regardless if his family was well off or not.

After finishing our assignments, I accompanied my classmates on their way to get the last shuttle bus. To my displeasure, we had the misfortune of running into the aforementioned "super senior" Byungsu.

My classmates greeted him, but when he gave them no reply, they said goodbye to me and ran off to catch the bus.

I noticed that he seemed to be in a daze. Hayan did tell me that it seemed like he was sick, and looking at him now, I could tell that she was speaking the truth. Regardless of any beef I had with him, if he was feeling unwell, he should go see a doctor.

"Hey, Byungsu. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He didn't answer, instead just glaring at me, and clenching his fists. Whatever was going through his mind at that moment was not pleasant. I wanted to ask him more questions, but we were interrupted by a man on the phone.

It was Professor Donggyu Park. He was not one of my professors, but Hayan said he's one of her favorites. He's very dedicated to his job, has memorized all of his students' names, and even speaks to students on days he doesn't teach. It looked like he was in a hurry to get home, judging by how he greeted us quickly and then got into his car.

I was too late to stop what happened next.

Byungsu threw Professor Park's car into the air. It flipped over and landed on its top with a crash. I dashed toward the car to check on Professor Park. He was bleeding from his head and unconscious, but he was still alive.

I was the one who was clenching my fists this time. Well, I had the perfect target to vent my anger out on.

This side of the school was deserted at this time of the night, and the security cameras were down for maintenance today. With no one watching me, I could kill Byungsu.

He was heading this way, no doubt to murder the professor.

I opened the car door, gently took Professor Park out, and placed him on the ground. Then I transformed.

"What the fuck, you're a vampire too?"

"Shut up. You won't be alive for long anyway."

My hand was enveloped in blue flames as I disappeared and then reappeared in front of Byungsu. I grabbed his face, and watched as it melted away. The fire burned everything and left nothing behind, not even ashes.

After de-transforming, I performed first aid on Professor Park and called 119.

When the ambulance arrived, I was questioned by police officers about what had happened. I told them the fake story I made up: I was with some classmates on their way to catch the last bus home, and then we ran into Byungsu. I went back inside the university to get something I had forgotten. When I came back outside, I saw Professor Park's car turned over and him inside unconscious.

I was held in questioning until the police contacted my classmates to confirm I was with them. Professor Park woke up after receiving emergency medical attention, and told the police he had also seen Byungsu. That, coupled with the sudden emergence of footage showing Byungsu had caused a traffic accident and killed the victims, all but cemented the fact that Byungsu the vampire had attacked Professor Park.

Byungsu was put on the national wanted list, and around campus people started calling me "The Lifesaver".

o - o - o - o - o

To recap, since school started, I became friends with Hayan, saved her from a vampire by revealing my secret, met Father Michael and Hayan's younger siblings, and also saved another person from a vampire attack.

My life in Korea had been extremely eventful, and it only became more so with the introduction of Detective Euntae Hwang.

It was another day at the university, and there were students outside of the school protesting the recent vampire attacks. I was irritated, but I could also understand where they were coming from. Recent examples like Byungsu had shown that it was all too easy for vampires to hide on campus.

I was with Hayan, and the two other freshman she had met at the pub.

"Excuse me, are you Hayan Park?"

We all turned around to see a handsome red haired man. I looked at Hayan, and from her reaction, she recognized him.

"Hayan," I whispered to her, "you know this man?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "he saved me and my siblings from gangsters this one time."

Well, if he helped Hayan, he could be a good person, but he could also be faking it...

"Oh, and you must be the other person I'm looking for!"

I pointed at myself in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Let me introduce myself..."

He smiled, before proceeding to tell us all how about how he graduated from the police academy at the top of his class...and how he was made captain of the criminal investigations unit...and how he was the superstar of the vampire task force....and...

I sighed and facepalmed.

"We get it, you're a detective. Please, we don't need to hear your entire life story..."

"Oh, silly me! I chattered on for too long, huh?"

Hayan's friends said goodbye before leaving us with the detective, blushes still present on their faces. As Hayan and I walked to the dining hall with the detective to continue our conversation with him, I noticed a lot of attention on us. Or rather, the detective.

By the time we got to our destination, Hayan and I had begrudgingly learned more about him.

He wasn't kidding when he said he was an expert about vampires. He had even invented a method to kill vampires: paralyzing them and then burning them alive in a furnace. To create such a brutal method, this man...he was dangerous.

I was on my guard while waiting for what else he had to say. He had ordered an entire table's worth of food, while I ordered drinks for Hayan and I. He insisted on buying food for us as well, but I rejected him quite firmly.

The detective, Euntae Hwang as he called himself, asked us about the vampire who had killed the loan shark. Apparently, that was what Detective Hwang was investigating. The police were trying to figure out how the vampire died, and if it was related to the recent case of Byungsu...

I could tell that Hayan was nervous around the detective. He must be bringing up bad memories of the vampire attack.

Detective Hwang didn't let up in his interrogation though. If anything, he got more extreme. Did he suspect Hayan and I were vampires? Well, that wouldn't do. I pondered how to get out of this mess, when something unexpected happened.

The detective cut his hand with the knife he was using for his food.

It was quite a deep cut, and the blood flowed steadily from the wound.

"Ouch! I cut myself! I guess my fingers were too tense..."

Was he that desperate to reveal us as vampires? I'm glad I had the foresight to order a drink, so that I had something else to focus on instead of the blood. But it made me upset that Hayan seemed to look even more uncomfortable now.

"Detective, why don't you go to the nurse's office and get a bandage for that cut?"

"Are you sure? I can always get a bandage at the police station..."

"No, no, you should definitely go and get that checked out. The sooner the better."

"Alright then. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

'For now?' I hope that's 'forever' instead. The detective left after packing up the rest of his food, and I wanted Hayan and I to go home as quickly as possible, but Hayan insisted on buying some sticky rice bread for her siblings. I was going to object, but caved after Hayan gave me her best pair of puppy dog eyes.

The line for the baked goods was long today. We waited for a while, until we finally bought the bread and left the dining hall. But, we ran into the detective on our way out.

"Hey, we meet again!"

I facepalmed, for a different reason this time.

"Yayyyy...so glad we keep running into each other."

If he noticed my sarcasm, the detective didn't comment on it.

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat more, but Hayan has to go home and take care of her very sick siblings..."

"Huh? But my siblings aren't -"

"Yep! Very sick! Oh the poor little ones!"

I grabbed Hayan's hand and we speed walked away from the detective...

....

"It's time for us to takes matters into our own hands! Let's prove that we're not vampires!"

Damn it.

The protestors from earlier were now cutting people in order to prove that they weren't vampires. It was chaos all around us. Some students were willing, but most thought that the student council protestors were taking it too far. I thought about going back inside and waiting for the chaos to die down. There had to be teachers who would stop this madness, right?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see it was Detective Hwang.

He leaned down to whisper to Hayan and I, "Just start walking." So we did exactly that, until we were stopped.

The student council members were blocking our path.

"Have you done the test to prove you're not a vampire?"

They weren't backing down. Hayan raised a complaint, but that only seemed to make them angrier. One of them grabbed Hayan's wrist, and I prepared to brush it off, but when he pulled back Hayan's sleeve, we all saw the bandage on her arm.

It was still wet with blood.

But whose? Is it...the detective's? From when he cut his hand earlier with the knife? When and how did he get the bandage onto Hayan's arm?

"You see? We already did it. Do you need more proof?"

Detective Hwang was calm and collected as he slid Hayan's sleeve back down. That should have been the end of the matter, but a new obstacle stood in our way: the student council leader.

"She could have gotten that bandage anywhere. I wasn't able to see her do the test, so I need her to do it again."

This was getting ridiculous.

The student council leader made a go at grabbing Hayan's arm again, but Detective Hwang caught him midair.

"It's a crime to go around using a blade on people against their will. Unless you want to be charged, I suggest stopping."

He flashed his police ID at the student council members, which was finally enough to get them to leave us alone. The three of us were able to get away from campus unimpeded.

I was reluctantly grateful for the detective. Hayan and I could have waited inside the university, but then the council members would have kept accosting other students outside. With the threat of police intervention, they'd be unlikely to continue.

"Thank you...Detective Hwang."

"Oh please, call me Captain."

"...Captain Hwang."

He added his number to Hayan and I's contacts, before the three of us parted ways.

o - o - o - o - o

I had gotten a text from Hayan.

I...I need you. Please...please come. I'm sitting in front of the pizza restaurant...

I knew exactly where Hayan was referring to. I grabbed my umbrella and my rain jacket, before quickly heading out to find Hayan. I had no idea why she'd send me such a strange text, but whatever the reason, it sounded urgent.

The rain was pouring, and Hayan was absolutely soaked.

"Hayan! You're going to get sick like that!"

I gave Hayan my umbrella to hold, while I went into the nearest store to buy a towel for Hayan. I came back out and gave her the towel to dry off while still holding onto the umbrella. After she finished drying off, Hayan looked...dejected.

"Can you tell me now why you called me out here?"

Hayan kept her head lowered as she explained what happened to her.

"Father Michael...he...he and I got into a fight."

"You got into a fight...? About what?"

"He...he's not letting me go to school anymore."

"What?!"

I was flabbergasted. Then, my astonishment turned into indignation.

"He...he can't do that! You haven't even finished the semester yet!"

"I know...I tried arguing against it, but he...he's made up his mind."

"Hayan..."

I was still aggravated on Hayan's behalf, but seeing her appear so defeated dampened my mood.

"Maybe you need to spend some time away from Father Michael...that could do both you and him good."

"But...where would I stay?"

"Don't be siily! You can stay with me!"

"Really...? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course!"

I gave Hayan a hug. She was no longer frowning, but grinning in relief instead.

Hayan stayed over at my apartment that night. She went home briefly to get her things and her scooter, and to tell Father Michael she was staying over at my place. That made him more upset, but Hayan didn't care. She was still mad at him.

My apartment was relatively small, so I didn't have a guest room for Hayan to stay in. She told me it was okay, and decided to sleep on my couch instead. I was embarrassed I couldn't get Hayan a more comfortable place to sleep.

The next day, Hayan and I decided to go on a walk in the neighborhood to cool off. It was raining again, and we saw a bunch of people gathered around the street gutters. They were panicking, and when we peeked inside the gutter to see the source of all the commotion, we saw a cat close to drowning.

I wanted to help the cat, but I didn't want to reveal my alter ego. Then, I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Attention, please! Does everyone here know what tug of war is? Yes? We can do something similar! Everyone here line up behind me, and hold on to the person in front of you! Then, pull with all your might!"

They did as I instructed, and with the help of my vampire strength, we were able to pull the lid off of the gutter and save the cat. Someone had called 119 beforehand, but since we all saved the cat, there was nothing left to do but get our picture taken in the newspaper. Hayan and I were one of the people who received the "Good Samaritan Award".

Hayan wanted to go home and tell Father Michael about how we saved the cat. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I conceded in the end. Surely Father Michael couldn't be mad about saving an innocent animal's life?

I was disappointed to find that I was wrong. Hayan came to me in tears. She had another argument with Father Michael. So another night passed where Hayan stayed over with me.

Father Michael called Hayan the next morning to tell her that he, Yerim, and Yunsu moved to another neighborhood. He sounded apologetic about the day before. He told Hayan that he moved her stuff to their new home, and if she'd like to come over to see it.

"Go ahead, I don't mind. You should check up on your siblings too."

I gave Hayan a thumbs up, and encouraged her to go. I'd still be there for her when she needed me. Hayan gratefully thanked me, and went over to check up on her siblings, and Father Michael. She called me later, in better spirits.

"I patched things up with Father Michael. It's still kind of rough, but we're making progress."

"Hayan, that's great news! Why don't you stay over tonight then?"

"Okay...."

Hayan stayed with Father Michael, Yerim, and Yunsu for the rest of the week, while I was busy with school. I had mostly accepted the fact that Hayan wouldn't be going to college anymore, but at least we could still hang out together outside of it.

o - o - o - o - o

I got a request from Hayan to come and watch over her siblings for her, while she went out.

"Thank you so much for coming over! Yerim and Yunsu are in bed, but if they wake up and need anything, I feel much better knowing you're there with them."

"It's no problem at all! But just out of curiosity, what do you need to go out for?"

"Father Michael still hasn't come home, even though it's already night time. He's never been this late before..."

"Oh, I see. You'll be going to the church then?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back!"

I expected Hayan to come back with Father Michael, after dealing with whatever was keeping him busy at the church.

But instead, Hayan came back with a police officer and a coroner.

"Unnie, what's going on?"

Yerim and Yunsu were rubbing the sleep from their eyes after they had been woken up by Hayan.

"As Ms. Park requested, the three of you present, sans Ms. Park's friend, are the next of kin of Father Michael. It is with a heavy heart and our deepest condolences that we announce the passing of Myeongsu Choi on this night. We are sorry for your loss, and offer you all our deepest sympathies."

After the coroner announced the death of Father Michael, the police officer and the coroner left to allow Hayan and her siblings to grieve. Yerim and Yunsu were quiet, before tears started falling from their eyes.

"U-unnie, what did they mean? F-father Michael is dead?"

"Yerim....Yunsu..."

Since Hayan arrived earlier, she had tried keeping up a strong front for her siblings. But as she embraced them in her arms, I saw her shoulders trembling. I enveloped Hayan in my arms as the four of us stood there, the quiet of the apartment interspersed with the sniffles and sobs of Hayan and her siblings.

Three days later, Father Michael's funeral was held. Captain Hwang came, along with everyone in the neighborhood, to pay their respects to Father Michael.

I stayed with Hayan and her siblings the days after the funeral. Hayan and her siblings had to prepare to move out, because of the death of their adoptive father. I helped them pack their things back at the apartment, while Hayan visited the rectory to get Father Michael's belongings.

She later told me about the letters Father Michael had written to her.

"He wrote all those letters...for me....he wanted to give them to me, but never found the chance to..."

'And now he never would', was left unsaid.

"I found this too...a business card from the Red Bomb Club."

"Red Bomb Club?!"

That was a club I had found out about during my nighttime excursions. Vampires frequented the club, and even worse, they lured unsuspecting humans in to become their prey, by posing as a safe haven.

"Why did Father Michael have a business card?"

"I don't know, but I overheard police officers at the funeral say a bunch of them had been stuck in Father's pockets."

"Could this be related? You don't think...they killed Father Michael?"

"Not just think...I know they did."

Hayan looked absolutely enraged.

"What will you do now?"

"I want to get revenge. But there's something I have to tell you first...at the church tonight."

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I snuck away to the church after making sure Yerim and Yunsu were safe and sound.

The roof and the walls of the church had burned away, leaving gaping holes for the moonlight to stream in.

"Okay, we're at the church. What did you want to talk about?"

"Remember that day you saved me from a vampire? You were truthful with me then, so I want to be truthful with you now."

"Truth? What truth?"

"I'm...also a pureblood vampire."

Before my very eyes, Hayan pulled her hair free from her ponytail, and I watched as it lost its color. Her eyes that I loved so much turned blue, like my own eyes when I transformed.

"This...this is...."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, especially when you told me first..."

"....Amazing!"

"Huh? You're not betrayed? Upset I kept this from you?"

"Why would I be upset, dummy? You're the first pureblood I've ever met aside from my parents."

"Your parents? You never talk about them..."

"That's because..." I hesitated before forcing out the words. "...they died."

"Oh...would it be alright if I asked how?"

"They died in a fire after sacrificing themselves."

"Just like Father Michael..."

Hayan and I contemplated our losses, and the tragedies that led us to where we were at present.

"Is it okay now if I asked about your life? How did you end up with Father Michael?"

"Father Michael...took me in when I was ten. I had no one and nowhere left to go. I hated myself so much that...I even tried to turn myself in for being a vampire."

"And Father Michael stopped you?"

"Yes...Father Michael became a second dad for me."

"What happened to your birth parents?"

"I can't remember. My memories of before I met Father...are unclear."

"Well, I'll help you get your memories back! After you get revenge on Father Michael's killer."

"Thank you...thank you so much..."

Hayan hugged me tightly, just like the day I saved her from the vampire.

After she and I let go of each other, I took Hayan's hands in mine.

"Hayan...I'll always be by your side. And I'm not just saying this because we're both pureblood vampires. Even if I wasn't a vampire, I'd support you no matter what. You're my friend, and I'll be there for you, through whatever hardships may come."

"And you can depend on me too. You don't have to shoulder your burdens alone."

Hayan and I left the church, our hands still interlocked.

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leo-interactive-fiction · 3 years

Note

Here’s a question I haven’t seen before, how do the ROs feel about each of the potential backgrounds for the Mc? Orphan, soldier etc. Do they have any particular thoughts about it? This feels like kind of a big ask so just skip the ROs who don’t have any special thoughts or feelings about it. Like I doubt Raven cares about where you come from for example. Thanks and sorry in advance.

Hmm, that's interesting haha. I'll try my best to separate them out in a way that makes sense.

----------------------

MC Xero (Scientist)

E: "I know how much studying means to you, I just wish you spent more time with-- A-Ah, it's nothing!"

R: "Villainized for your family affiliation? Well, I suppose that's one thing we have in common..."

L: "Your father's book was the only introduction on S.T.E.M. that was made accessible to the masses. He was the reason I wished to study in Triaina..."

V: "Too complicated."

P: "Some people aren't as lucky."

M: "Your father...is very kind...isn't he...? I can tell...he cares...very much..."

Ra: "Even if everyone else hates you for the family you were born to, I don't mind. I'll always be at your side."

S: "So you're like, super smart or somethin', yeah? Okay...whats 132 times 43?" They're impressed with any high number you give them, because they don't know the answer themselves.

F: "Xero...Not quite aristocracy, are you? Though I'm sure that is more your father's doing. Nevertheless, the child of that man would make a wonderful asset..."

-------------------------

MC Storm (Military)

E: "I've always been watching you train. I know how hard you've worked and how far you've come. I'll always be rooting for you."

R: "If you can't tell, I'm more of a lover, not a fighter. So I'll be counting on you if things go awry." they say with a wink.

L: "I have hope you'll enter a world where your practice will not be put to use..."

V: "The Storm...Your father was...Disregard, it is nothing important."

P: "I've heard a lot about your old man. I wonder how much was true."

M: "Our dad...doesn't like yours...very much...I think...there's some history..."

Ra: "Try not to put yourself in harm's way too much, alright? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you! Don't worry, I'll be watching to make sure!"

S: "So you're like, super strong or somethin', yeah? Okay...can you win a fight against a bear?"

F: "Perhaps I can put your prowess to better use than your peers? I've always a need for someone unopposed to conflict..."

---------------------

MC Scurra (Performer)

E: "You're always a great highlight on a stage. I don't think I could ever match that, but I hope you'll let me cheer you on from the crowd."

R: "I'm never opposed to a little spotlight, but I'm not one to entertain the masses. I'll leave that to those with a little more shine in their eyes."

L: "I have never watched a live performance before...T-That is, if you do not mind returning to the stage. I do not wish to pressure you..."

V: "Crowds are too loud and unpredictable..."

P: "I don't care about your damn card tricks."

M: "I wonder...what else...a silver tongue...can do...Hm? I didn't...say anything..."

Ra: "I'll always be your biggest fan. You may be a star to others, but you're the center of the universe to me!"

S: "So you're like, super cool or somethin', yeah? Okay...juggle these chainsaws."

F: "I'm sure there's plenty need for someone with your peculiar knack for directing attention. Don't expect honeyed words to work on me, however."

-------------------

MC Razor (Orphan)

E: "My parents are always grateful for your help around the shop. And, I mean, I'm...I-I'm happy you're around, so..."

R: "You've had to learn all sorts of unsavory things to make it, haven't you? Maybe that's what it'll take for me, too..."

L: "You used to protect things from being stolen? I can imagine such a position would be a thankless job. Um...You don't do anything...bad, with your skills, right...?"

V: "Jagd has a member like you. They're quiet. But good."

P: "What's the point in hiding in the shadows? You'll never escape your problems. Confront them head-on."

M: "I always...like people...that can keep...secrets..."

Ra: "We're kindred spirits! Fated, destined, entangled by a string of providence! Every step you take in the shadows is one I'll be able to follow closely behind..."

S: "So you're like, super sneaky or somethin', yeah? Okay...Let's play hide an' seek. Loser has to buy dinner!"

F: "I can find plenty of use for someone accustomed to playing a more...disreputable role. Perhaps you are eager to find a more lucrative use for your skillset?"

-----------------

There ya are! hope that's interesting haha, thank you for the ask

#romance options #triaina academy #specialization

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saotome-michi · 2 years

Text

just thoughts on the movie “after yang” because it’s been niggling on my mind for the past day

Here’s the thing-- I enjoyed it. There were a lot of beautiful scenes and moments of brilliance. The tree grafting scene between Yang and Mika, the tea scene between Yang and Jake, the butterfly scene between Yang and Kyra, those were all amazing and yes, I think we can already spot the commonality here: it’s Yang. It’s always Yang. When Yang is on the screen, the overall direction of the film is stronger, and when he leaves, it is left to meander. And a little meandering isn’t bad... but the thing is.

This movie is so very ambiguous and I’m not fully sure why. And I don’t mean the script so much as I do the overall set design, worldbuilding, and cinematography.

If you’ve read the original short story, then you’ll know that the setting in the movie is a lot more vague than the setting in the short story. The world in the short story feels more contemporary and closer to current America. Jake and his wife, Kyra, are both white, middle-class folks who adopt Mika because China had a bad earthquake that left a lot of orphans and they wanted to do something good. They buy Yang, because neither of them know jackshit about Chinese culture. When Jake first tries to fix Yang, he goes to a mechanic named Russ, who is clearly racist against Asians (apparently not uncommon ever since the US invaded North Korea) and who reacts negatively to Yang, only agreeing to examine him because Jake was referred to him by someone he knows.

The movie takes... a different approach. You cannot place the setting in the movie. We presume it’s America, because everyone’s speaking English, but the sets and costumes look like they were designed by Muji, so we got this Japanese minimalist aesthetic all throughout. Jake is still a white man, but Kyra’s played by a black woman with a british accent. No context is given as to why they adopted Mika. They buy Yang, because they don’t know anything about Chinese culture, but this is kind of funny because the Jake in the movie owns an East Asian-style tea shop and that along with the Muji aesthetic really just....huh.

But the biggest difference that I want to talk about is the Russ scene in the movie. Because Jake still goes to Russ, but in the movie, the focus isn’t on his racism, it’s on him being a conspiracy theorist. All we get of Russ being racist against Asians is a split-second look at his “THERE AIN’T NO YELLOW IN THE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE” poster, which you can easily miss if you blink. Otherwise, Russ’ main character trait is that he thinks the government and the corporations that make robots like Yang are spying on everyone.

And I... I just don’t understand why they made that change. Why is racism so downplayed in the movie compared to the short story? Is it because Kogonada’s going for a setting that’s so far off into the future that race is thought of differently? It’s interesting because the movie is dealing with race, but I guess it’s trying to do it in a more broad way??? Like when Mika tells Yang that her schoolmates told her Kyra and Jake aren’t her ‘real’ parents, yes we can infer they said that because her parents don’t look like her, but the same scenario can also be applied to children who were adopted by people of the same race.

Or when Yang says to Jake, “I wish Chinese tea wasn’t just about facts for me... I wish I had a real memory of tea in China,” it’s a great line that also draws a broader parallel to the experience a lot of transnational adoptees have, where their cultural heritage is more a list of cerebral facts rather than knowledge baked in shared experience and memory.

You know what. I think after all this rambling, I’ve finally figured out what’s bothering me. After Yang is a movie that focuses on the “What makes us human?” question and in order to do that, decides to take a broad, general, ‘universal’ approach that doesn’t focus on any specific race, nationality, etc. That’s why, for a movie that references Chinese culture a lot, there’s very little that is specifically Chinese. And there’s nothing wrong with this really, I think it’s just that personally, I feel that you can explore that question without taking away the scenes in the short story that featured racism.

(side note: it also bothers me that neither jake or kyra are shown learning chinese culture themselves to share with mika... like... what...)

#random blah of letters #after yang #kogonada

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collisiondiscourse · 3 years

Text

on the wonder duo (part 1)

(BNHA Analysis Post Ahead! This isn’t explicitly romantic, but it is an analysis of the relationship between the two most popular characters in BNHA--Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya. Split into two posts because I realized that this was gonna be long as HELL)

yall ever think about the fact that the wonder duo is perfectly set up in so that bakugou and deku together are the better version of all might?

bc like. ive been thinking.

everyone knows the win to save and save to win parallel. How they are supposedly two halves of a whole perfect hero (which, previously, was defined as all might)

but ever since bakugou and deku started working as one—growing together to win AND save and continuously reminding each other that they shouldnt try to do things alone, ive realized that its BECAUSE theres two of them that they surpass all might. its not a case of deku and bakugou both being 50% of an ideal hero, but rather i think that they are 100% of what all might SHOULD HAVE BEEN from the very beginning.

as early as the AM v AFO battle in kamino, we see the effects of all mights flawed existence. the fact that he, the greatest and supposedly infallible symbol of peace, was destroyed—society had begun to collapse. there was suddenly no pillar to hold people together and the impacts were so severe that even in the latest chapters of mha it keeps on getting worse. the truth is, all mights biggest mistake was the burden he placed on his own shoulders

with bakugou and deku... its different.

its different for them because down to their attributions, they seem like two halves of a whole person.

i think that the wonder duo are going to surpass all might because of the fact that they work together.

@bakugoukatsuki-rising @svpercraigus @tybee @isaustraliaathing

(batshit crazy and conspiratorial essay under the cut !)

1. Complementary Colors

I’d like to first preface literally everything I say by the fact that I am not an expert analyzer or literary major in any way. I am literally just some random fan on the internet who has wayyy too much time and looks wayyy too deep into things, but here we go!

A common thing we see when we talk about bakugou and deku is the way they are... sort of an inverse of one another.

Down to the design of their features and the way they move, Deku is the obviously softer of the two. There’s an intentional contrast between the two of them, in the way that Deku’s drawn with round shapes and curvy hair and the way Bakugou is literally all spikes and half-mast eyes and rough muscles. Bakugou’s movements too are languid and showy, with the way he leans when he walks and splays his legs and kicks open doors. Katsuki, in a casual sense, is loud and dramatic.

Deku on the other hand s finicky. He jitters when he walks and he’s often fidgeting and mumbling. Comparatively, the aura he radiates is energetic and frenzied, even self-conscious to a point unlike Bakugou’s calm and confident movements.

the point is, there’s a clear difference in how either of them are designed and what exactly they are supposed to represent. They utterly complement each other down to the way they behave and even their main colors (red-orange and blue-green) being literal complementary colors.

Now, moving to my more ungrounded points, this is quite a bit of a stretch so I’ll try as much as possible to make sense of these with hyperlinked sources because. yeah.

Down to their names, I think Deku and Bakugou both symbolize something deeper. I think that the way Hori expresses characters and what they’re meant to do is something that we have to pay close attention to when we talk about the Wonder Duo’s rise to success.

Izuku Midoriya (緑谷出久), as some of us may know, does have an interesting meaning when broken up. According to a lovely fan translation of his name, ‘Izuku’--while not an actual name used commonly in real life--means to ‘Come out’ or ‘Long time’. ‘Midoriya’ on the other hand means (Midori) ‘Green’ and (ya) ‘valley’. The translator further pointed out that his first name ‘Izuku’ could be a reference to him being the first legendary hero to come out of the long-running All Might Era. (or, if you’ve been reading @/bakugoukatsuki-rising’s posts, the first significant anime protag in a long while to come out as queer, ppfft)

but that isn’t my focus right now.

We know that Hori LOVES telling stories with names, and more often than not in the BNHA universe, names alone tell us a lot of things about the characters. When referring to Izuku’s last name, Midoriya, it’s important I think to step back and realize that hey, maybe there’s something more to Green Valley than just the fact that his motif is all green.

After searching for a lil on the specifics of green valley, I’ve found out that across many cultures, the colour green and valleys in general tend to represent life. From dream analysts, to Christianity, and even old Taoist teachings, valleys are seen as areas of fertility and escape. They are seen as safe havens and often escapes for people to come to after running away from bad circumstances.

(Sound familiar?)

Deku, in essence represents life and peace. He represents being the “salvation” that the world in BNHA needed. To me, it sounds like Horikoshi is trying to say that he is the long-awaited hero in the sense. The one that people can feel will create a society that feels safe for everyone after years of All Might just saving people from themselves as a band-aid solution.

On the other hand, we have Katsuki Bakugou (爆豪勝己), who’s name we commonly know means (Katsuki) Winner and (Bakugou) Explosion Master. He is essentially, the champion. The power. His name means success and power and all the things that make up winning.

When putting them side by side, it then becomes increasingly... interesting to me how their names almost perfectly slot into All Might’s save to win and win to save mantra, and how they are both quintessential parts to what made All Might as a hero.

2. Hero Too!

Now, I’m not even gonna really TOUCH much of what happens in canon. If you want me to do a step by step breakdown of their arcs in regards to the plot of manga and anime, feel free to send me a gratuitous ko-fi tip so I can pay for the headache I get after trying to organize my thoughts into word vomit.

What I WILL talk about on the other hand, is the subtle shift both of them slowly have in regards to how they look. Bakugou and Deku, while growing up, seem to have MANY many parallels--but before I elaborate on all of that, I wanna talk about something else.

Detour: Deku’s Red Shoes

We all know the iconic symbol being Deku’s red shoes. For all his life, save for some outfits like his hero one, we see Deku more often than not wearing his signature red sneakers which have become a running joke in fandom.

But the funny thing is, in Japan, red shoes seem to have an interesting connotation.

In 1922, a popular Japanese nursery rhyme was written, called “Red Shoes”. The interesting part to me about this song was the symbolism that, in my tiny pea-sized brain, I could connect to the story of BNHA.

The story goes that there was a little girl with red shoes named ‘Kimi’. She was from Shizuoka prefecture (which, if you didn’t know, is most likely where Musutafu supposedly is) and was raised by a single mother. When she was young, her mother had to entrust her with a foreigner under the impression that they would give her a better life in America. The stranger is a man named Charles Hewitt (who was described to have blue eyes) and supposedly took her away.

The singer of the song (supposedly the mother, but some argue it was written from the perspective of a childhood friend) believes that Kimi is happy and living a better life away from them, when the reality of the situation was much worse. The young girl with red shoes in actuality had Tuberculosis, and thus the foreigner whom she was entrusted to had left her to fend for herself and eventually left her to go to America while she died alone and orphaned.

“When I see red shoes, I think of her.”

A very interesting story with very interesting implications indeed.

Anyway, moving on to the more... “nuanced” and connected parts of this section, I have every reason to believe that Bakugou and Deku were simply MEANT to be working together down to how they dress. Now, I’d like to discuss their hero costumes.

At the start of their series, using these godawful pics for reference, it’s clear to see that neither of them seem alike in any way--reflecting the dissonance in their relationship at that point in canon.

ough. deku why. (yes we know why its because you love your mom you stupid little bunny <3)

Anyway, we see an immediate gap in how the two of them are. Deku’s first costume is one that reflects how he treated his dream of being a hero. He was still in that childlike idolization phase, the one where his dreams and aspirations were hinged on pure feelings and inspiration from All Might. Katsuki on the other hand was a lot more tactical--professional to an extent. The gap between their respective development with their quirks is something that is clearly felt in every fashion decision they’d made.

(Notice how Deku’s green is a lot brighter and less like the green accents Katsuki has all over his costume.)

As time progressed however... their costumes changed. The colors, the silhouettes, the practical functions, most things.

(Deku’s Gamma Costume and Bakugou’s Winter Costume used respectively)

we begin to notice a few similarities.

As the show goes on and we see more evolutions of their costumes, it almost seems like they begin to look like a matching pair. Deku’s green grows darker and almost teal in nature, while Bakugou’s orange is veering towards red territory. This is important to note because red-orange and blue-green as I said earlier were complementary colors as compared to simply orange and green. The minute shift is something I really wasn’t quite sure was intentional, but something I find interesting to pick up nonetheless as the colors they used to accent their costumes begin to match up.

Secondly, I think and important thing to note is silhouettes. The way that both Bakugou and Deku’s costumes are designed follow a lot of parallels that typically we don’t see with the rest of 1-A. For one, they both have a combination of tight long-sleeved tops with a bulkier set of bottoms. They also share the use of utility belts and metal pieces typically worn around their necks. Deku has his bunny-eared hood that mimics All Might’s hair, while Bakugou has his orange and black explosion ear-pieces that mimic his own quirk.

i don’t think any other people in class 1-A match each other as subtly yet strongly as these two. Uraraka and Deku and Bakugou and Kirishima do come close however.

“But Codi, you fucking knob!” I hear you plea. “This is such a reach and tells us practically NOTHING!” And yes, I’m inclined to agree with you! You’d be sort of right in the idea that this is a reach. Maybe I am looking too much into this, and maybe it really isn’t that deep--but I do think that them subconsciously matching outfits means something quite brilliant.

In the way that their costumes are designed, each aspect of either outfits have a very logical explanation. The changes were strategic and made with their fighting styles vividly in mind, so what that tells me is that BECAUSE these costumes are so complementary or similar in nature (Bakugou’s reinforcing his arms while Deku reinforces his legs), these two are implicitly showing the audience that their combat styles are complementary as well.

The evolution of their design choices and similarities tell us that even unknowingly, their minds line up in strategy on the battlefield--a clear exhibit for why they would be INCREDIBLY POWERFUL as a Hero Duo to begin with.

When I look at their hero costumes side by side, I see a mirror. I see the way that these two are reflections of each other and are strong where the other isn’t. The point I see in BNHA repeatedly is that EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS. Nothing is infallible, regardless of how hard you train or how powerful your quirk is. Everyone will always have a weakness, but the significant difference I see when fandom discusses the future of Pro-Hero Society is that the new generation is finally raising itself to be RELIANT on each other.

Observing their fighting styles and the simple use of their quirks, its obvious that they are indeed two parts of a whole hero. Bakugou, who’s quirk emphasized his arms and hands and the power that comes from it, while Deku who’s quirk now emphasizes his legs and lower body and the way he’s always running to save people.

IN CONCLUSION:

As they become heroes, it is easy to assume that if nothing else, Bakugou and Deku will cover each other’s weak spots (especially when you consider the way Deku probably won’t be able to keep using his arms with the way both the anime and manga are going...) (also chapter 285, anyone?)

Part Two: Interactions, OfA

kofi || commission details

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koo-zy · 3 years

Note

hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!!

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

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willowbird · 3 years

Note

For the prompt thing, could you do 2 for au, 4 for trope and 5 for prompt with andreil?

Hogwarts au, meet messy, "you have the emotional capacity of a brick"

Dearest anon, how did you know that I have been literally aching for an excuse to do something with a hogwarts au?

For context, because idk if I'll be able to explain it in the ficlet, Andrew and Aaron have been raised by their real father, Joseph Minyard, and his wife, Betsy Dobson, since the twins were seven. Andrew instinctively retaliated against an abuser with magic when he was in foster care, bringing him to the attention of whatever the US's ministry of magic is called (I forgot). They found his dad, who is a British wizard, and also discovered Aaron's existence. The twins, upon meeting each other and finding out they were wizards, chose to stay together and go with their dad rather than risk potentially being separated in whatever system the US magic people has for orphaned magic kids.

(look, I've been thinking about this A LOT okay?)

The following scene would take place the summer before the twins' fifth year. They are fifteen, Kevin is sixteen, Neil is fourteen.

Please be aware that all these characters are a lot younger and significantly less traumatized. I mean, shit still happened to them, but they all get rescued from their abusive home lives a lot earlier than in canon.

---

Andrew Minyard had lost a bet.

It was a really shitty bet, and Andrew should have known at the time that he was being fucking set up. But, well - what was it that broody fucker always said? Oh. C'est la vie. Or something. Whatever.

Point being, Andrew made a stupid bet and then he lost and it was really his own damn fault. Now he was stuck going to stupid Kevin Day's stupid house to play stupid broom-ball over summer break when he could have been basking in the wonders of muggle efficiency like television and air conditioning. What made it worse was that his mom had been so damn delighted that he was going over to a friend's house, too, and Andrew didn't usually have it in him to smash her hopes and dreams when she was so genuinely happy for him.

So. Here he was, broom in hand (because if he had to do this he was at least going to suffer with the familiarity of his own fucking broom), staring up at obviously haunted creaky old manor house that Day apparently lived in.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "Just.. great." Andrew did not like ghosts, did not like them one fucking bit. They always wanted to chat you up and had absolutely no respect for personal space.

The longer he delayed, though, the longer Day was probably going to force him to participate in his bullshit "training camp", so Andrew straightened his shoulders and trudged up the cracked stone staircase that lead up the hill to the front door of the house. The very second Andrew had both feet on the dilapidated front porch, one hand reaching for the knocker, the front door began to swing slowly open. You know, as they were wont to do in creepy old ghost-infested houses owned by wizards.

Without waiting for a welcome (because the door fucking opened for him, that was invitation enough), Andrew strolled inside. He didn't even flinch when the door slammed shut behind him.

(Okay, maybe he jumped a little bit. Just a little.)

No one was waiting for him in the foyer, because of course that would be too easy. At least the inside of the house didn't look as abandoned as the outside did. On the contrary, the foyer was well-lit and free dust and cobwebs. It opened up into a round sitting room that looked lived-in rather than haunted, personal affects strewn about here and there in vaguely organized chaos and family pictures on the mantle above the fireplace.

This, Andrew had learned quickly upon his introduction to the magical world about seven or so years ago now, was fairly common when it came to magical families living in and around muggle neighborhoods. Sure, there were wholly wizarding villages, but not a ton of them. Most of the magical community had to coexist or at least peripherally exist with the muggle one. With the work of a couple of charms and a heavy dose of aesthetic, a magical family could live comfortably without the muggles looking too closely - and even if they did look closely, it was the haunted old house at the end of the street so strange things were bound to happen around it, right?

Homey as it may be on the inside, it was still actually haunted, though. Andrew had a good sense about ghostly lairs and this was definitely one of them.

Heaving a sigh, Andrew moved through the sitting room and ventured deeper into the house. The sooner he found Kevin, the sooner he could leave.

The rest of the house, Andrew swiftly found, was an uncanny combination of the haunted image it presented to outsiders and the cozy haven of the front sitting room. The hall leading off the sitting room was normal when you looked down it heading away from the sitting room, but when Andrew looked back over his shoulder it was like looking into something out of a cheap horror film (of which Andrew had viewed many, much to his father and brother's chagrin, but his mother liked to critique them with him).

Andrew checked each door he came across. Some of them were locked. Some opened into perfectly normal coat closets and bathrooms. At least one of them opened onto an actual cemetery where a bunch of ghosts were playing croquet. Andrew quickly shut that door before any of them tried to talk to him.

It was when he came to the staircase, however, that he finally started to get somewhere. Voices could be heard when he hit the first landing, but they completely vanished when tried to move beyond it - either further up the stairs or out into the hall. Turning to inspect the walls, Andrew realized that one of them wasn't actually a wall at all, but an illusion -- his hand right through!

"This is getting ridiculous," Andrew grumbled to himself as he stepped through the goddamn fucking wall.

He found himself in a wide, clean hallway bathed in the bright sunlight that was streaming in from the skylights placed every few feet. From one of the open doors a bit down the hall, Andrew could finally make out the words of what was obviously an argument.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to your bloody school, Day?!"

"You can't just not go to school, Neil! The Ministry will have your wand, and then where will you be?"

"Oh come off it, do you really still buy into all that regulatory shit? They can't track me if I'm not a student unless they have an open warrant out on me. I could turn the corner store into a giant anthropomorphic pig that pisses coffee and they wouldn't know it happened until the story hit the local news, and even then they'd have a hard time tracking me down, considering those lazy twats barely even know how to read let alone track a rogue wizard."

"Galloping Gargoyles, Neil. Where in Merlin's name do you come up with this shit."

"It's called an imagination, Day. I was able to foster one while not being indoctrinated into the sheep-brain miasma that is Ministry-approved wizarding society."

This 'Neil' was getting more worked up as he spoke, spitting out his words like he was crafting a very pointed hex. There was the scuff of footsteps and a shadow fell across the hall as someone stepped toward the hall. "I'll be leaving now, thanks. Have fun being institutionally programed to fit the conservative mediocrity."

A larger shadow blotted out most of Neil's. "You can't just go, Neil!"

There was a scuffle, then a short kid wearing oversized robes stumbled into the hall. "Try and bloody catch me then, you lumbering infant of a Bandersnatch!" And then the kid turned and bolted down the hall -- right toward where Andrew had paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Now, Andrew was all ready to step aside. This was none of his business, after all. If this mouthy kid wanted to run away and join the circus or something, more power to him. He, also, thought school was a nightmare. But then Kevin stumbled out into the hall and shouted, "Andrew! Block him!"

And, well. Look. This was all fucking Kevin's fault. Kevin and his stupid cross-House quidditch club and his obsession with running drills. It was also Nicky's fault, for forcing them all to go so they could bond or what the fuck ever the purpose was. But Kevin shouted 'block!' and Andrew had spent two years as a beater and one year as a keeper and, well, reflexes kicked in.

He blocked.

Except, he had spent two years as a beater, and he was holding a broom. So.

His arms moved on their own, and it was a mighty, vicious swing. The next second the kid was flat on his back, gasping to try and catch his breath. Kevin loped over on legs too long, shooting Andrew an appreciative grin that Andrew kind of wanted to punch off of him.

"What.. the.. actual... fuck..." the kid - Neil - wheezed from the floor.

Now that he was officially drawn into this mess, Andrew allowed himself to indulge his curiosity and slung his broom up against one shoulder to approach the fallen boy. He felt a little bad (okay, more than a little), so he figured he'd offer him a hand up at least. Except, when he got to the kid and looked down he was shocked to find just about the prettiest boy in the whole Nimue-cursed universe.

(Andrew's gay awakening had happened when he was twelve years old. The keeper of the Gryffindor quidditch team smiled at him and told him he'd make a pretty good beater. Andrew had tried out for his own House team the very next week, and it had all been downhill from there.)

Andrew cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something cool and unbothered, because that's what you did when you met someone pretty and wanted to impress them. Instead, like the utter dork that he was, he said, "Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

"What the fuck is a Weasley?" the sharp, pretty boy on the floor shot back through gritted teeth, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Kevin's obnoxious shadow fell across the both of him and he sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Don't mind Andrew, he remembers everything he hears and has a tendency to regurgitate random lines from other things when he feels awkward or anxious."

"Don't mind Kevin," Andrew followed up conversationally, "he's an insufferable know-it-all with a tendency to overshare and force people to play stupid broom-ball when they should be having a perfectly air-conditioned summer break."

"You emotionally wound me."

"You have the emotional capacity of a brick, don't try me Day."

Kevin rolled his eyes. Neil honed in on Andrew with eerie intensity. "You have an air-conditioner?"

Aha! Mission accomplished: cute boy impressed.

Andrew smirked. "Yup." He popped the 'p', feeling quite good about himself, his earlier bumble placed in the back of his head where he could obsess about it later.

Neil's narrowed eyes scanned him up and down, then relaxed, the blue of them bright and intelligent. He looked like he was figuring something out about Andrew but Andrew had no idea what or why. It took some effort, but instead of squirming he met Neil's gaze full-on. After a long moment, Neil seemed to have made a decision. He pushed himself up to his feet and nodded. "Alright then. You play quidditch?" He gestured to Andrew's broom with the jerk of his chin.

He hadn't noticed it earlier because he'd been so fascinated with the argument itself, but now that he could focus on Neil's voice, Andrew realized that there was something of about his accent. It wasn't that it seemed fake but more that it... it reminded him of his own, back when he'd been younger and had only been in England for a couple of years. He remembered being teased for it, and getting into a lot of fights because of that. Well, he remembered getting into fights because Aaron was also teased, and no one picked on his brother but him.

"I thought you were going to run off and join the circus." Andrew arched a brow.

Neil wrinkled his nose. "No. I'm still not going to your stupid castle school." He paused and looked from Andrew to the broom back over to Kevin and sighed. "But... one or two games of quidditch before I go can't hurt."

Kevin looked overjoyed. He grinned at Andrew and Andrew supposed that they really must be friends now, because he felt quite pleased about that.

"Great!" said Kevin. "Let's go! We should be able to get in some warm-up rounds before the others get here!"

"Others?" Andrew and Neil said with identical inflections of disdain. The sound of an echo startled the both of them and the looked at each other. Then, Neil smiled.

Andrew supposed a day without AC playing stupid broom-ball wasn't so bad after all.

Fun little prompt things

#asks #ficlet prompts #aftg #aftg fanfic #andreil #hogwarts au #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard x neil josten #did this turn into more of of a meet-cute?#meet messy #meet cute

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destielfanfic · 3 years

Text

My First Destiel Fic, vol.3

Thank you guys for sharing your memories! My First Destiel Fic is a nostalgic survey open to any destiel fan and has a simple goal - to celebrate fics that were our gateway into a wonderful world of destiel shipping. Thank you, fic writers, you are our heroes!

from @nextheirofslytherin

my first destiel fic was “In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere” by RhymePhile. the girl i liked who got me into supernatural in middle school recommended it to me, so it always has a special place in my heart 😅 it was the first fic i read on ao3 too! i read it while i was watching s3 (cas hadn’t even shown up yet!) but the show was in its 9-10th season

All fic titles link directly to the fic, when it’s possible, we have added another link to our review or submitted rec post.

In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn’t Dare Elsewhere by rhymephile [M, 34,000 word count, posted 2010] (our review)

It's 1995, and Castiel's high school years are destined to be difficult: home-schooled until eighth grade, he is awkward, shy, and socially inept. The weird kid with the funny name would rather isolate himself and draw in his sketchbook than deal with the constant bullying he faces every day. Things only get worse in his junior year when he excels in home economics class, leading the captain of the baseball team, Alastair, to start taunting him for being gay. Then new student Dean Winchester arrives at Flour Bluff High School, sharing many of Castiel's classes. Castiel has seen his type before -- handsome, athletic, arrogant, and sure to be the most popular kid in school. But Castiel eventually learns that he and Dean have more in common than he thought, and they form an unlikely friendship.

from @deansbff

i joined the fandom in the beginning of 2019 and molting expectations by tricia_16 was the first fic (over 11k words) that i read. it really made me fall in love with deancas because i realised i didn't need them to be in the canon!verse to be so wonderful, their relationship was amazing in whatever universe they were in and it was always intriguing to read about!!

Molting Expectations by tricia_16 [163,100 word count, posted 2019]

After having trouble coping with a traumatic incident on the job, Dean takes his little brother's advice and leaves everything behind to go stay at the old family cabin in Colorado. Nobody's been there for years so it needs some major work, but it's secluded, and that turns out to be exactly what Dean needs in order to start to feel at peace again. Now in the mountains with nothing but nature to amuse himself with, he takes up bird watching and plans a hike into the mountain range across from his cabin in search of a golden eagle. High up in the mountains, he discovers human footprints. Thinking someone is in danger, he follows them into a cave and quickly becomes familiar with a form of wildlife he never could have imagined: winged people who call themselves angels.

from @bornonathursdayinmarch

I actually started out in the fandom against Destiel. I mean, it was pretty clear that Dean Winchester was not into men. But then I read “Redemption Road” by accident around 2015. I didn’t know it was Destiel. But I got really into it and this fic totally changed my mind on Dean/Cas. I have since read hundreds of Destiel fics and I am more into the ship than ever. My absolute favorite fanfic is “Sweaters and Cigarettes” by lemonoclefox. I love how shy, caring Dean softens cynical Castiel and how in love they are despite being so different. It makes me smile when I’m down.

Redemption Road by spnredemption (the fic is a collaborative effort of a group of destiel writers and artists) [NC-17, 650,000 word count, 24 episodes, posted 2011-12)

With Castiel having set himself up as the new God, drunk on power and volatile as a nuclear reactor, Dean, Sam, and Bobby find themselves on the run from the jealous, capricious monster wearing the face of their friend. Desperate for protection and wary of his brother’s mental state since Castiel unlocked Sam’s memories of Hell, Dean knows Castiel must be defused before he can wreak further havoc in Heaven or on Earth. Although Bobby advocates for destroying Castiel by whatever means necessary, Dean is convinced the Cas he once knew still remains, buried somewhere beneath the mass of poisonous souls and calling out for help. Determined to save the angel who once rescued him from Hell and redefined his purpose in life, Dean himself must resist the allure of the false deity vying for his obedience, and come to terms with the knowledge, long-suppressed, that his feelings for Castiel run much deeper than brotherhood. It is this bond, and the dubious distinction of the Righteous Man, that will ultimately grant Dean access to where Castiel’s grace languishes in Purgatory. However, what Dean brings back with him is broken, angry, and only half-angel, certainly not the Castiel he remembers—and nor is it the only thing that returns to Earth with them…

Sweaters & Cigarettes by lemonoclefox [NC-17, 150,000 word count, posted 2014] NOTE - the fic was deleted from ao3 by the author, please see our review for more details

Dean Winchester is in high school, crushing hard on Castiel Novak, the unbelievably hot goth who Dean does his very best to convince himself he hates, despite the fact that he can’t really stop staring at him. Dean tries, but when the two of them finally cross paths, their first conversation takes a surprising turn. And suddenly, they both find themselves falling harder and faster than they ever could have expected.

from @iamasphodelknox

Hi! The fic that made Destiel my OTP was The Walk series by Persephoneshadow. It blew my mind and I hadn’t even started watching Supernatural yet. 🙈 I started watching the show last year, just as Season 15 was starting. I’m a newbie but this comfort ship felt like coming home. I also read a turn of the earth by microcomets just as I got to season 4 and it is one of the best things I’ve ever read, fic or no. :)

The Walk by Persephoneshadow [NC-17, 190,000 word count, posted 2017]

Castiel tells himself it was a one time thing, even if his night with a hooker named Dean changed his whole world, but he can’t keep away from the man fate keeps throwing in his path. Castiel is married and he knows his sexuality is an affront to God and everything he’s ever been told is right. Dean tells himself he doesn’t care about the weirdo with blue eyes, but every time they meet he gets a bit closer to something like hope. Dean’s nothing but a homeless waste of space with a brother in foster care a world away and a father in the wind. As the connection between these two lost men deepens, it threatens the carefully maintained lies their lives are built on in a story of faith, mistakes, and the journey of love.

a turn of the earth by mishcollin microcomets [NC-17, 95,300 word count, posted 2015] (our review)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run. Frigging fantastic. (Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline pre series and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

If you enjoyed the fic, please drop by the archive (AO3) and let the author know with your comments and/or kudos! And if you found our recs useful, let us know by Liking and/or Reblogging our posts!

You can find all My First Destiel Fic posts under this tag!

#destiel #destielfanficnet #my first destiel fic #hey guys #these are all submissions we received #if you don't see yours here #please contact mod flyingcatstiel directly #nextheirofslytherin #deansbff #bornonathursdayinmarch #iamasphodelknox

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syn0vial · 3 years

Note

Thoughts on the various "young!Boba gets adopted" AUs out there? The various people/groups I've seen adopting him in fanon have been Obi Wan, Plo Koon, assortments of clones, and of course fellow bounty hunters like Bossk and Cad Bane. Personally - I love them all since any AU where young Boba is loved and supported brings me joy - but wondering if you had any specific thoughts on what's most likely/makes the most sense/would be best for Boba/etc. Since you're looking for asks :)

hello there! i also love boba-gets-adopted AUs bc i like to believe in a universe where he ended up safe and loved :,D in fact, in the junior novels, he does end up being brought to an orphanage on bespin, but it’s a republic orphanage and there’s jedi on the ship taking him there and he has to lie about his name and basically there’s a bunch of stuff that drives him to cut and run as soon as he’s able. BUT i definitely think things could’ve been different.

first off, disclaimer that the following are simply my opinions and that i don’t intend to bash or invalidate people with different headcanons/AUs. but yes, here are my opinions on who would likely have the least/most success in adopting a freshly orphaned boba.

i think it’s safe to say that any jedi would have their work cut out for them. he was raised to see them as the enemy, he knows his father’s history with them, and watching one of them decapitate his dad definitely didn’t help matters. he would likely respond to any of them trying to get close with anger and suspicion, not to mention a healthy dose of fear as to what their ulterior motive might be (are they after information? are they trying to make sure he won’t become a threat? do they just want to erase his father’s legacy?). ngl, i think a story with a jedi character like obi-wan or plo-koon trying to gain boba’s trust would be a fascinating read, but if we’re talking purely what’s the most likely/best arrangement for boba, jedi are probably at the bottom of the list, just bc boba’s view of them as the monsters who killed his dad and his dad’s family would make gaining his trust not only unlikely, but also a thoroughly distressing affair for everyone involved.

next up is the clones. this one i think could work, but it would require said clone(s) deserting for best chance of success. if they didn’t desert and stayed with the republic, boba would view their attempted “adoption” of him as capture at best and forced conscription at worst—obviously, they’re just taking him in bc they think he’s just a wayward clonetrooper who needs to be taught to fight and die for the republic, right? plus, non-deserter clones would likely have regular interaction with the jedi, which would present the problems from the bullet points above. on the other hand, if the clones were deserters, boba would likely have some immediate sympathy for them as they would share the same enemies/pursuers and he would have some interest in helping to keep them safe and free. even if this altruism would be at least partially motivated by the desire to stick it to the republic/jedi, i could see it easily evolving into genuine care and affection. the big, interesting obstacle here would be that, in the EU especially, boba isn’t very comfortable around clones. like, when he was even younger, he thought they were cool and liked to watch them march and train, but once his dad told him that boba himself was a clone too, boba became unsettled and stopped watching them. and then after jango is killed, well... the clones became upsetting to him for an entirely different reason. especially if any clone characters attempted to adopt boba, there’d be a lot of tension stemming from their resemblance to his father, plus boba’s own desire to be distinct and separate from them. i do think a happy ending is possible here, but it would require boba to learn to view the clones as individuals, not as reflections of his dad and not as threats to his own individuality.

then we have bounty hunters. honestly i’m not familiar enough with cad bane to have any say on his potential as an adoptive parent and i’m so used to the EU depiction of bossk and boba as shitty rivals that the thought of bossk trying to parent boba is inherently hilarious to me. HOWEVER, there is one bounty hunter who i think would be the number one best option for boba adoption and that’s zam wesell. yes, the one that jango murdered. as i’ve mentioned in previous posts, zam basically acted like boba’s second parent in the EU and, in an alternate universe where she survived jango’s assassination attempt, boba would be ecstatic to find out she’s still alive and, so long as she supported him in his quest to become a bounty hunter, he’d probably be happy to let her retake her parental role. the one tension point i can see here is that zam might not be so keen to let her adopted kid run off to try and avenge the man who almost killed her, but this could be mitigated by convincing boba to wait/train until someone else kills mace he’s older and ready. zam’s got a charisma score, she could swing it.

and finally: mandalorians! this would be another great option bc boba, especially younger boba, inherently trusts mandalorians more than most others in the galaxy (this is, in fact, implied to be one of the reasons he chooses concord dawn as his and sintas’s new home as a teenager; mandalorians, he thinks, are trustworthy and safe ;; ) he also almost certainly knows of their tendency towards adoption and thus would not be as quick to question their motives as he would be for some of the others on this list. not to mention, mandalorians would be more likely to support him in becoming a bounty hunter/warrior AND in avenging his father, which would earn them major respect and gratitude in boba’s mind. finally, assuming his adopters were similar to true mandalorians, the fact that they would share a culture in common would also likely make the adjustment period much easier than if boba were adopted into a non-mandalorian household.

and there you have it! as you can see, i think the best two options for adoptive guardians for boba would be a) (true) mandalorians or b) a miraculously-not-dead zam wesell. clone deserters could also be fun and ultimately beneficial, while attempted adoptions by GAR!clones and/or jedi could also lead to plenty of fun angst. in any case, it’s a great trope and it’s always nice to fantasize about a galaxy where boba gets to have a family again :,)

#boba fett #zam wesell #mandalorians #clonetroopers #uraaniuum

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SWEET MAGNOLIAS. )

He was your unlikely muse; you were the weird girl in the park. Could you make it any more obvious?

pairing. myg x named f!reader. s2l.

genre + rating. college!au. fluff, angst, smut. explicit.

tags / warnings. light cussing, yoongi being rightfully weirded out, a whole lotta softness, sadness if you squint at the right times, body painting, and then, of course, the most tender, dumbest lovemaking (unprotected but don’t be silly like them!). there’s also a really bad callback to the titanic. i’m not sorry. lol.

wc. 8.2k

You try not to stare for too long, sweeping your gaze in wide circles so as to be as inconspicuous as possible. You try not to let your eyes linger, follow the contours of his cheeks - soft, pronounced when he smiles - or the shape of his mouth - delicate, petal pink. You try not to make it weird - but it’s decidedly, very weird.

You just can’t help yourself.

He’s always here around this time, laid out on a worn red blanket. Sometimes, he reads. Books like The Alchemist and the Stranger and once, Dante’s Inferno. Other times, he pops a pair of headphones on - oversized, intimidatingly large over his ears - and closes his eyes. Most rare of all, is when he’s not alone, joined at the hip by at least one other boy and on occasion, an entire group of six.

They’re all interesting in their own ways.

There’s one with shoulders the size of boulders, a mountain range situated beneath his shirts. He has a weird laugh that sounds like windshield wipers and your mother’s spring cleaning routine. He yells a lot and even across the lawn, you can sometimes make out his voice.

There’s the tallest one, with kind eyes and dimples so deep you question if there’s treasure buried in them. He reads a lot, too. You’ve seen him in the library more times than you can count, always dutifully tucked away in a back corner surrounded by scattered looseleaf. Despite the course load he seems to have taken on, you’ve never seen him lose his cool. You have seen him lose his phone, though, and pencils and textbooks and AirPods.

There’s Hoseok, whose name you only know because he held your hair once at a fall sorority party. You hadn’t been drinking but somehow, somehow, your roommate had convinced you to apple bob with her. He’d been gracious enough to help you out, fisting your hair in a gentle grip. It’s what spurred you to now always have an elastic on your wrist.

There’s the dancer. He’s slight and even in stillness, far more graceful than you’ll ever be. He’s got pillowy lips and hair that gleams like silk. You’ve sketched him too, once or twice, but never more. It just didn’t feel right - as if you’d never be able to translate that sort of beauty onto paper.

There’s the one from your Art 340 Drawing II class. You’ve wondered, on more than one occasion, how come he isn’t the model. He’s got perfect proportions - defined jaw, strong nose, cheekbones carved from marble. It’s almost off-putting seeing him in person; it feels far more fitting for him to be displayed in a museum, with a plaque that reads Perfection, Mixed Media.

There’s the youngest one, Jungkook. They call him maknae despite the fact that he dwarfs nearly all of them. Maybe it’s just the clothes he wears: boots that look like they’d break your neck and everything in slightly darker shades of black. You run into him at least four times a week - trading greetings at the campus coffee shop and at the library. You’re practically best pals by college standards.

And then, of course, there’s him. Your muse. The one you can’t help but stare at - even when you’re trying your hardest not to. The one who wears glasses though you’re almost certain he doesn’t need them. The one whose smile is more gums than teeth, who looks unassuming and yet often breaks out into the strangest, most inspired dance moves you’ve ever seen. The one who plays recreational basketball on Tuesday nights and who drinks more coffee than you think should be humanly possible.

Min Yoongi.

You sketch him like you’ll never see him again, dragging charcoal strokes across paper until your hand is muddied and the curve of his ear is looking worse for wear. You repeat lines over and over, turning the mop of his hair into ringlets and waves, weaving dimension through the india ink that spills over his eyes. You sometimes add his glasses; you’re quite fond of the look on him.

You paint him sometimes, too, imagining how he’d look with periwinkle blue hair, or maybe dressed in shades of maroon. You swath him in textured fabrics and lovely watercolours, turning him into a fantasy that’ll never see the light of day. Pretty little daydreams with him fixed at the centre.

You fill your pages with his figure, the way he smiles when Hoseok does something silly or how he joins in when Jungkook laughs. You study every bit and piece, learning him in every admiring way you can - despite the fact that you don’t really know him at all.

It’s a staggering lesson in futility but one you take almost daily, armed with pencil and paper and not a single ounce of common sense.

That is, until you’ve done the stupidest thing imaginable.

No, not getting caught. Not in the traditional sense, at least. He hasn’t realised you sit on your bench - yes, your bench, with the sticky metal arm rest and illegible initials scratched into the back - and watch him almost every day. You thank your lucky stars for that.

What you’ve done is much worse - punishable by death by embarrassment.

You have no fucking clue where your sketchbook is.

You could’ve sworn you had it in your bag when you’d returned to your room last night. You can’t imagine you would’ve left it anywhere in the open, orphaning it on a campus full of idiots. You were always so careful. You don’t just lose things.

“I think it’s gone, girl.” You’ve never wanted to yell at your roommate more - not even when you’d caught her and her boyfriend banging in your bed after you’d come home early on the long weekend or when she’d eaten all of your Cherry Garcia ice cream. The desire bubbles about in your chest, fizzing angrily like an agitated soda bottle.

“It’s here somewhere.” The words grit between your teeth, insistent as can be.

“You’ve been looking for like, twenty minutes.”

“It’s here.”

“I really don’t think it is…” Jisoo doesn’t quite deserve how you explode, rounding on her with hands flying and eyes wild. “You’re also going to be late for your class.”

Your words falter with the verbalisation of hers.

Lucky for her; unlucky for you.

The hands of the clock above your desk wave at you mockingly. You are, indeed, going to be late for your class.

“Shit! Shit!” Everything you’d torn out gets shoved back into your tote bag. Band-Aids, mints, too many wayward pencils and pens. You almost forget your phone, attention only drawn to it when Jisoo catches the strap of your backpack and yanks you back.

“Don’t forget,” she hums, far more kindly than your harebrained self deserves.

You forget all the reasons you’re upset with her. “Thanks, Ji.” You force a kiss on her cheek before you’re darting out of your room and sprinting across campus to Art 340.

“Nice of you to join us, Miru.” It’s your professor greeting you as you run in fifteen minutes late, weaving through other students to find your seat near the far wall. Laughter follows you, coiling around your ankles and over your shoulders as you settle into your seat, fully hidden behind the oversized easel.

You can’t help the scarlet that paints your cheeks, creeping high across your temples. You know no one cares - that Professor Kinsella is probably the most laidback professor you’ve had in your four semesters - but it can’t be stopped. You’re already flustered from temporarily misplacing your sketchbook that everything else just feels like shit icing on your garbage cake.

“Sorry!” It squeaks out - a mouse, eaten up wholly by cat-ate-the-canary laughter that sounds over your shoulder and not very quietly.

“Having a bad day?”

You’ve heard the voice a handful of times so it shouldn’t shock you the way it does, nearly knocking the graphite from your hand.

“What?”

Kim Taehyung’s on the edge of his chair, one long leg stretched toward you, the other balanced across his knee. You’re not sure how that’s meant to be comfortable but he makes it look effortless. Then again, looking like him, living probably was effortlessly. You can’t deny you’re a little envious.

“Your face is all red. You’re out of breath. Feels like a bad day to me.”

You try not to dwell on the fact that, apparently, you look like an absolute mess. “No, I’m good.” It sounds fake even to your ears, tinny and wrought with anxiety.

“You sure?” He’s not really paying attention to you as he speaks, tracing the contours of the model across his canvas. He begins where you’d never think to, framing the main masses with a languid twist of his wrist. Unlike you, he doesn’t get caught up in the detail; he sees the bigger picture for all it is, building from the outside in.

You’re watching him for longer than you realise, whipping back around once it dawns on you. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Who knows.” There’s a playfulness in his tone that sets you on edge. You’ve never heard it before, all rounded vowels and molasses laughter. You mean to work as you listen, waiting for some indication of whatever lies just beneath the surface.

It’s a mistake. Your stick of charcoal snaps in half when he continues, low and slow as if he’s dragging it out.

“—maybe you lost a sketchbook?”

“Did you say…” You can’t finish the sentence. You feel like you’re about to be sick.

The amount of mischief in his expression should be illegal. It’s dancing in his eyes, curling wide and unabashed over his lips. It’s practically radiating off of him.

“So, bad day?”

He waits for you to pack up, hands tucked into the endless pockets of his black slacks. At any other time, in any other universe, you’d be giddy. Girls on campus would kill for even a second of Taehyung’s attention.

(It’s true - you’d heard a group of them talking about it one time.)

Here and now, you want to sink six feet under.

“They’re really good, you know.” As if the compliment will dull the mortification that threatens to cleave you in half. “You’re really good at capturing his boredom. That’s not easy.”

“Thanks.” You should make conversation; it’s the polite thing to do.

After all, he was kind enough to find and return your sketchbook. Better him than someone else, right? Better him than Yoongi himself? That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

Yoongi doesn’t know and therefore, it’s okay. Semi okay. Distantly related to the idea of okay.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung speaks gently, with a hand that burns through the linen of your blouse. You know he means well but it sears white hot, eviscerating your nerve endings. “You have nothing to worry about. I didn’t tell him.”

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing to say - not really. You’re far too lost in your own thoughts to acknowledge the effort he’s making. Maybe this was life’s way of telling you to back off - to find another person to paint.

Or maybe it’s brought you two together, says the silly, naive angel on your shoulder.

You’re ready to flick her off - launch her like some kind of poor Tinkerbell - when your name catches your attention. It’s announced so dramatically that you double take, making sure you haven’t completely run through a picnic or accidentally slammed into someone.

“This is Miru.”

Cognisance comes slow and unhurried, even as your stare swivels wildly in search of context clues.

Laid out before you, right under that familiar magnolia tree, is one blanket, three bodies, and enough takeout to last you an entire week.

“Ohf, phey!” With cheeks stuffed full, it’s hard to make out the two syllables. They crowd against each other, offered in a garbled mess that has you regarding Jungkook with a mixture of concern and confusion. He’s swallowing thickly before he rises far too quickly; you watch a forgotten piece of kimbap go flying, lost to the dirt and bugs. “Sorry. Hi.”

“Do you want to join us?” It’s the angelic one, fitted with cherubic cheeks and a rounded Cupid’s bow. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” He pats the empty space beside him, eyes waning into crescents with the force of his friendliness.

Taehyung had asked if you wanted to grab dinner but you’d never imagined he meant this.

You’ve never been subtle but you try your damnedest to peek at him from your periphery. Unfortunately for you, he’s already sat down, fully made himself comfortable beside the last member of the group.

The one who, for all intents and purposes, appears as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. If looks could kill, you think.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jimin says, so sweetly, with a small bento lid held towards you. It’s already stacked with goodies - a selection of banchan and homemade-looking meatballs sitting alongside a poorly-shaped mound of rice. “Sometimes, he gets like this.”

You want to believe it. Really, you do, but by the way Yoongi’s mouth curls in distaste, all signs point to it being a matter of you rather than a mood.

“Maybe if she respected peoples’ privacy, I wouldn’t have an issue.”

It’s a single sentence quietly spoken and yet it feels like an open-palm slap to the face. Heat radiates over every visible inch, starkly coloured in contrast to the white of your top. It burns as it licks over your cheeks and past your temples, tipping your ears.

“I’m so sorry.” It isn’t clear who you’re apologizing to, the words tumbling wet off your tongue like a waterfall.

You’re gone before anyone can ask.

“That was a dick move.” Jungkook is the first to break the silence, levelling his friend with a disapproving stare. He’s not used to this side of him - the one that can tear a person apart with just a few words. It’s not the Yoongi he knows. It’s not really Yoongi at all.

“Yeah, hyung.” It’s thinner, but just as reproachful. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Yoongi’s laugh is dismissive but he won’t meet anyone’s stare - a tell-tale sign that he’s just a little affected by their words - choosing instead to shovel bites of soondae into his mouth. “Mean what? Invading my privacy?”

“She’s an artist.” Taehyung doesn’t mean it as an excuse but by how Yoongi bristles, he’s certain the senior takes it as such. Before the argument can begin, he continues, all while wrapping a piece of samgyupsal in lettuce. “I doubt she meant any harm, so just cut her some slack.” Fringe is flicked away from his eyes, something sparkling in the pretty brown of his irises. “I’d actually be flattered, if I were you.”

“Then you be her model.”

You haven’t drawn in four days. Well, not really.

You’ve completed what you need for classes, filling your books with mandatory figures and notes on colour theory. You’ve diligently mapped out proportions and brought to life sunsets and sceneries. You’ve done everything you should be doing but nothing that you want to be.

It just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.

“I hear he’s a really nice guy.” You can’t count how many times Jisoo has tried to cheer you up. From picking up your favourite ice cream (the one she tends to devour anyway) to ordering in fried chicken, she’s been the picture perfect roommate. It only makes you feel that much worse.

You were moping over something that was your fault. And she had to pick up the pieces! It seemed wildly unfair but when you’d told her to stop - insisted upon it with a wail into your pillow - she’d simply shook her head and wrapped you in her arms.

For all of your stupid, silly little rows, Kang Jisoo was the best roommate you’d had in your entire university career.

“Just go outside.” She’s perched on the edge of her bed, painting her toes a brilliant shade of neon green. She’d offered to do yours too, but you’ve more or less refused to leave the comfort of your burrito blanket for anything beyond classes or food. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I can try,” you mumble, words lost to the cotton of your sheets.

Try - and fail, it seemed. You’d already run into him twice. Twice! Even after you’d started taking absurdly long roundabout routes to your classes, the universe had conspired against you.

The first time he’d been walking out of the gym, shoulder to shoulder with another upperclassmen you didn’t recognize. You’d seen him coming from a mile away thanks to his obnoxiously bright Lakers jersey and you’d booked it back the way you’d come, nearly mowing down a couple making kissy faces at each other in front of the lecture hall.

The second time was yesterday afternoon. You’d thought he’d be in his usual spot - so close to your usual spot - that you’d gone to the coffee shop for a midday pick-me-up. Even embarrassed, you weren’t about to suffer a caffeine deficiency. You’d rounded the corner in the same instance he had and you’d sworn he’d seen you, recognition flickering across his face. Fortunately, there’d been a door directly to your right and you’d all but thrown yourself inside.

It was the first and hopefully last time you’d be in a men’s washroom.

“I thought you were tougher than this,” Jisoo hums, equal parts disapproval and kindness. She levels you with a stare - you can feel it burning into your fortress of blankets - and sighs. It’s a bit dramatic, you think.

“Tell me you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing!”

Then again, she’d probably never be stupid enough to lose something so important nor would she fixate so heavily on one person. Your point still stands.

“Seriously, girl.”

Her nail polish bottle bounces off your bed, tumbling to the floor with a quiet thump. You look up in time to see her staring at you imploringly, so wide-eyed and innocent you can’t help but be a little suspicious. “What?”

“I wanted to have Andy over.”

It all falls into place then. Her boyfriend’s in a frat and your (poor) dorm room is the only place they have any sort of privacy. It makes you want to gag but you can’t blame her. You’ve always had an unspoken agreement; you’d just tossed it out the window the past few days.

Guilt prompts you to extract yourself from your duvet, though you don’t stop the chorus of gross, gross, gross! as you begin gathering your things. You almost leave your sketchbook, only opting to tuck it under your arm at the last minute.

“Please, please, don’t use my bed this time.”

“We love you!” She sing-songs as you tug your sneakers on and slip into the hallway.

You’re at a different bench across campus when you hear the voice. It comes from behind you and to your left, accusatory and sharp. You nearly jump out of your own skin, toppling over your water bottle and plastic paint palette. Orange watercolour soaks into the material on your thigh. Dammit.

“Are you following me?”

Min Yoongi stands not three feet from you, arms folded over his chest.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him. It’s hard to speak when it feels like it’s leapt into your throat.

“What?” You hate how you sound - a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You have nothing to be ashamed of. At least, not right now. You’d come all the way here, as far from the magnolia tree and red blanket as you could.

“I said—” His words are glacial and biting. It’s suddenly winter, far chillier than spring should be. You wish you’d brought a sweater or maybe, that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t be cold when you’re dead. “—are you following me?”

“Of course not!”

There’s nothing but disbelief in his expression. It paints itself in broad strokes, prominent in the shadows beneath his eyes and the curl of his mouth. He says nothing.

“Really. I’m not.” You’re insistent, apologetic. Every nerve ending is shot, going haywire beneath your skin and lighting you up in shades of red. The tips of your fingers are tingling. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You wonder if he’s baiting you now.

“For…” Words are cherry-picked and perfect, chosen with a shaking head and the utmost care. “I shouldn’t have drawn you without asking.”

“No shit,” he returns, completely deadpan. He’s really not making this any easier.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” you continue, a little hopeful and a lot bashful. “I just— I don’t get inspiration like this that often. So I couldn’t let it go.” You don’t need to add what you do, but you do so anyway, because you’ve never been great at making good choices. “Your face is really unique and when you’re happy, it’s just so expressive and your smile is—”

There’s a siren blaring in your ears. A red alert going off so loudly you almost miss the way he laughs.

It’s not the same one he offers to his best friends - far more reserved, exceedingly softer - but it’s there and it’s real and you don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment.

“You’re laughing.”

He stops immediately. Fair.

“I’m sorry.” Again. More. Draped in apology and optimism that peeks out between your teeth and shines in the dark of your stare. “Even though I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I did, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

It’s hard to read him, even after you’ve spent hours studying his face. There’s a distinct difference between seeing someone and knowing them, you realize. You might be able to map out every wrinkle of his eyes - replicate every dot and freckle - but you have no idea what it all means or how it comes together to create something more.

Silence fits between the two of you for what feels like a long time. It’s not uncomfortable, though, so you allow it to settle. You figure it’s better than his anger, in any case.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

You can’t wipe the disbelief from your face. “Would you have said yes?”

Yoongi shrugs, a small roll of his shoulders beneath the oversized sweater that dwarfs his frame. “Don’t know, but I would’ve appreciated it.”

Because that’s really what it came down to - the thought, not the action. He’s not entirely sure you understand that yet but he’s willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Blame his softening on the steady repetitions Taehyung and Jungkook have made the past few days. You were lucky to have them in your corner - even if that meant they’d been a thorn in his side.

“Then… can I sketch you?” You’re probably (read: definitely) pushing it. You can’t help it.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scoff at your audacity. He decides on the former, with a shake of his head that swings his bangs across his forehead and a small, private smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” You imagine he can’t hear you as he’s backing away and disappearing the way he came.

“See you tomorrow.”

True to his word, Yoongi lets you draw him the next time you see him (and the next time and the time after that).

It’s different - working off someone who knows they’re being studied. He holds himself a little more stiffly, a little more carefully. His laughter isn’t quite as loud, his smiles more forced. He apologises, even though he doesn’t need to.

Even his untrained eye can see how you struggle to bring life to a robot.

Over time, though, it comes - comfort.

Like the quietly burning coals that melt him down from the inside out, he begins to warm up to you. It comes slowly but it comes nonetheless, as steady as the sun. You appreciate his effort - his patience - more than you can ever say.

You know he gets it, though. He always does. It’s a Yoongi thing.

“You can relax.”

It’s just the two of you, swathed in sweat and waning light that casts shadows across his cheeks. The days are longer than they’ve ever been and the both of you tend to lose track of time, spending hours under that magnolia tree.

“I am relaxed,” he returns, sinking further onto his back, elbows hardly acting to prop him up. He’d been engrossed in a novel for the first half of the afternoon. Another book you’d never bothered to read outside of high school English class. You never really understood it - you much preferred to watch than read - but you loved when he’d recite the words to you, clear and bright and better than any melody.

“You’re trying to stay awake.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No. You’re just as good of a model when you’re sleeping.”

The smile is lazy, hazy like Sunday morning. It reveals his gums and ticks higher on the left side. It makes your heart skip a beat.

“Go ahead then,” he continues. The entirety of his body sags, drops onto the bag he likes to use as a makeshift pillow. You don’t imagine it’s all that comfortable but he never complains.

“If you’re tired, we can just head in, you know.”

You always offer. He never says yes.

A part of you thinks he likes the attention. It’s different from what he receives from anyone else - thoughtful and careful. You think he might like the quiet, too. The benefit of quality time without any of the effort.

So you push on, charcoal edge meeting paper once more. “Just another twenty minutes.”

“Why me?”

The enquiry comes one day, completely out of the blue. It skips your heart and breaks the pastel in your fingers, dust chalking them a lovely shade of lilac.

“What?” You’re not ready for how close Yoongi is - much closer than he ever is - and you shift back, away from the face you’ve spent months filling your sketchbooks with. “Why you what?”

He’s completely nonchalant as he moves even closer.

You can smell his cologne - a distinctly masculine fragrance that’s musk and cedar - and the coffee he’s been nursing for the last hour. It fills your senses, recentring all of your focus so intensely that you don’t immediately recognise he’s continued speaking.

“Why’d you choose to draw me? Why not someone else?” He seems genuinely curious, even though it feels dangerous - a dangling string that’s meant to unravel you.

The answer doesn’t come easily, despite the fact it’s something you’ve asked yourself.

Why him? Why Min Yoongi?

“I don’t know,” you answer, perhaps too honestly. “I saw you and it sort of… just clicked.” How it sounds doesn’t escape you - like something plucked out of a bad romance novel. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought I’d draw you once - okay, twice - and then I’d move onto another subject. But I just… couldn’t?”

“So, what you’re telling me is it was love at first sight?” It’s glaringly obvious he’s teasing you. He’s got that grin of his, sly and feline as it creeps across his mouth.

You don’t bristle, instead painted bright red like the sunset that streaks across the sky.

“I— I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say otherwise.”

It’s an uncomfortable line of questioning. You’re not used to it and certainly not from him. You hesitate to speak, turning words over and over on your tongue in an effort to make yourself clear.

You’re not weird. You don’t want this to be weird. But you can’t deny - it’s, decidedly, still very weird.

He tries again - a different tactic this time. One that surprises you, despite the unique friendship you’ve forged over the past few months. “What if I told you I was glad?”

“Glad?” It feels like an echo chamber. Repetition. As if you’re going in circles, chasing a tail that remains just out of reach. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if I told you I’m happy we met?”

Your blink is owlish, fully caught off-guard. “I’d say the same thing. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Amusement rolls off him in waves, evidenced by the laugh that curls into the afternoon. He shimmies closer and closer until there’s barely three inches between you. His knee knocks against yours, bony and denim-clad. You try to ignore the way it burns through your own jeans, sparking heat all the way up to the tips of your ears and down into the soles of your feet.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be just friends anymore?”

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s something that’s been on your mind the past few weeks, sown by offhand comments and little gestures you haven’t been able to ignore. Jungkook had even practically shouted it at you just the other night.

“I’d say…” You trail off, lost somewhere among the constellations in his eyes.

“You’d say?” The words are parroted back at you, threaded together by gossamer thin hope.

“I’d say you’re welcome. For choosing you.” The confidence isn’t your own. It comes from him, crafted by the support he offers easily, hands out like keys. Keys to his heart, you realise belatedly, with a sudden bashfulness. Of course.

He can’t wipe the smile from his face. It eats up every inch, dominating even the playfulness that shines through, turning it the prettiest shade. It stands bright against his cheeks, staining the pale apples red. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

You’re suddenly very determined - because you want to give this to him. Just as he’s given you everything you wanted, you want to do the same. In this little cut-out piece of paradise, there’s nothing quite as important.

The one word isn’t much but it feels like a turning point. “Yes.”

“You want me to say ‘yes’?”

He nods, just once. There’s so much certainty you can’t doubt him.

“Then yes—”

It doesn’t matter what you’ve just said yes to. It doesn’t even matter that it could be something awful or really, anything under the sun. All that matters is the feeling of his lips, soft and warm and dry on yours. It’s better than any painting you’ve ever seen, any song you’ve ever heard. It fills you wholly, stuttering your heart and bubbling giddiness in the pit of your stomach.

You probably sound a little silly, surprisingly breathless from such a little thing. “Wow.”

“Good things happen when you ask,” he states, solemnly. You’d take him more seriously if he weren’t so dopey, grinning at you like he never has before.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Luckily, you don’t mind. Not if it gets you another kiss.

You tell him as much and he happily obliges, stealing your breath and replacing it with sugar-coated stardust. You ponder whether you might be able to create with those same particles, turning them into colourful streaks to paint his cheeks. You’d like to find out.

You want a lot of things with Min Yoongi, you decide.

You don’t know how you ended up here.

Actually, that’s a lie. You do. All because of a dumb joke, uttered in passing by Taehyung and now ingrained so deeply in your psyche that you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about it.

“Get out of there,” he whispers right against your temple, lips following to soothe whatever’s got you preoccupied.

“Where?”

“Right there, idiot.” Fingers tap twice, a quick one-two against the side of your head.

You can’t help but grimace, a wrinkling of your nose that your boyfriend chuckles at, pressing kisses across the bridge and over your cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry - just come back to me.” To this moment, he means.

This strange little scene, with his fingers dressed in non-toxic paint and you stripped down to nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and thong.

Have him paint you like one of his French girls, Taehyung had said. It’ll be fun, he’d said.

You think it might be - if you weren’t bouncing with nerves, all five feet three inches of you fizzling with anticipation. Yoongi was only painting you. This was a bonding exercise. Something to bring you closer, to breach the gap between lovestruck artist and inspired musician. Nothing more.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance but simply a passing comment, like looking at the sky or seeing it snow. So straightforward it makes you laugh, the sound bubbling about in your throat.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No, seriously.” He levels you with a look. You know the one - a touch stern but ultimately playful. “I wanted to make something beautiful but…” Digits wiggle, Atlantic blue sweeping over the tips and up his knuckles like the sea. “I can’t really improve on something that’s already perfect.”

Your cheeks light on fire, as brilliantly coloured as the red in his - your - palette.

He thinks it looks pretty against his hands. The same ones that cradle your cheek, so precisely you want to remind him you’re a canvas and not clay.

“You’re silly.”

“ You’re silly,” he returns, as if that’ll somehow win him this battle of wits.

The roll of your eyes is undeniable. “Good one.”

“You know, I’ve got a ton of paint, right? Not your best choice, making fun of me.” He punctuates each word with passes of his fingers. Colour appears wherever he travels, dragged over your skin with dreamy twists of his wrist. A line here, a circle there. Goosebumps follow in their wake despite the fact that his touch is like candle wax - soothing and deliberate.

You wonder, idly, whether he can feel you burning up beneath him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs again, almost to himself as he dips his fingers into another dot of paint. Pink this time - in the same shade as the magnolias outside. He spreads the colour over your chest, right where your heart beats an erratic rhythm.

He takes his time in admiring his handiwork, swirling the two shades together until it’s the most flattering shade of purple.

You try - and fail - to ignore the way it stirs something behind your ribs. A need that flickers to life without any sort of warning and has you pressing your thighs together.

“Can I take this off?” It comes abruptly, with eyes that snap up to yours. There’s already a hand tucked beneath the small of your back, right under your shoulders. He already knows your answer - can see it in the blown out pupils that reflect his entire world back at him. He still wants to hear it.

You’re unable to find your voice. It’s gone, stolen by the way he ghosts his fingers up and down the sensitive notches of your spine. You could get lost in this feeling, if he let you. You almost do, only nodding when he moves no further, flat of his palm a solid weight right against the clasp of your bra.

You don’t mind that the band is coloured pink and blue when he tosses it aside. You don’t have it in you to focus on anything but how he studies you now. Openly admires you, like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“What?” Mellifluous and adoring. Music to his ears.

“I think I’m getting distracted.”

“I think so, too.”

“Is that okay?” He speaks more to your boobs than you, single stained hand coming to rest across your ribs. The pad of his thumb swipes over a single bud, perked and already far too sensitive. He’d put his mouth on it, if not for the fact it’s now covered in paint.

Fortunately, there’s still so much of you - places he hasn’t explored but suddenly, desperately needs to.

From the column of your throat and all the way down to the valley of your breasts, he offers sweet kisses. Open-mouthed adoration that leaves you needy and breathless and writing. He catches your untouched nipple between his teeth, gently working it into the same state as its tinted twin.

You shift beneath him, unable to stop the bolt of electricity that rips through you like a thousand volts. It cracks your composure like lightning and sends your pulse racing like thunder. “Of course.”

He hums, content, and nearly falls, dropping his cheek fully against your chest. You’re so soft beneath him, velvet and pliant under his tongue.

“I think I love you.” It’s his voice but your words, spoken so faintly you almost miss it against the roaring in your ears.

“I think I love you, too.”

Yoongi stares up at you then, so full of wonder that you can’t help but look away. It’s an incredibly intimate moment - so much emotion carried in one simple look that you’re not quite sure how to process it. He’d been your inspiration and now you were his. The realisation is almost too much, filling you until you feel like you might float away.

His hands act as an anchor, keeping you here with him.

“You don’t have to say it back.” It’s careful, loaded with his heart and every key to open it.

“I know - I want to.”

He grins so breathlessly handsome that you can’t help but return it, rubied cheeks crystallised with delight. Those same paint-stained hands of his find their newly discovered favourite home of your chest and he sounds like sin when he speaks. “I want you.”

“You can have me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s ducking down and smothering every uncovered inch of you in sweetness. His mouth burns hot but he’s unbearably gentle, searing the shape of his mouth over your breasts and across your collarbone. He licks and sucks as he goes, soothing any ache left behind by the edge of his teeth.

You’re not quite sure where the bites end and the paint begins. It’s all so pretty you don’t mind either way.

But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, you think, even as you whine airily, words stuttering out in a half-formed breath. “Please touch me.”

“Where?” He’s hardly given you room to answer, crowded so closely against you that you can feel his heartbeat all the way through to your own. He’s so warm - so solid - upon you that you almost want to tell him that here, just as he is, is perfect.

A momentary lapse in lust before rational judgment is clouded yet again.

Instead - and with more demand than you mean - you grind purposefully against him. A benefit to having him sitting how he is, knees hooked on either side of your hips. He can’t pretend like he doesn’t feel it, cock twitching beneath the constraints of his boxer-briefs.

Your eyes meet and he chuckles, nuzzling his head back into that spot between your neck and shoulder that has you whimpering. The sound alone drives him crazy.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Yoongi knows this like he knows the sky is blue or your smile is his favourite sight.

You’re teasing him when you catch his face, palms cradling the shape of his jaw. “Then it’ll be a good death.”

He doesn’t disagree - especially when he slips his clean hand along the length of your body. He tweaks your nipple on its descent, tickles the underside of your ribs, and then finds the band of your underwear, all in one fell swoop. A digit dips below the elastic, neatly clipped nail grazing the jut of your hip before shifting and dropping further.

You keen when the pad of his finger grazes your clit.

“Do that again.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. When he repeats the motion, the sound spills off your tongue without restraint.

He slips further down, pressing his hand to gently part your folds. Digits glide easily, coated in slick that drips between your legs and sorely tests his patience. Yoongi’s not sure what he’d expected but this is so much better it’s making his head spin - and he hasn’t even felt you yet.

“You’re so wet, love.” Shame would swallow you whole if not for the way he speaks with reverence. “How badly do you want this?”

“Don’t tease,” you huff, rutting uselessly against the fingers that tease your centre, barely slipping in before resuming a lazy, leisurely path back up to the bundle of nerves that throbs at the contact. He’s hardly touched you and you’re already at a six, entire body alight with need that thrums heavy in your veins.

“Just tell me.”

“I want this. I need this.” You hope he believes you. You’re not sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t. “I need to feel you - please.”

His entire world is spinning, kicked on its axis by the way your tone pitches, demands and begs in the same lilting voice he so adores but has never quite heard like this. He loves it. “I need to stretch you out. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whine so prettily he almost cracks. It’s enough to have him choking on his own words, not that he’s saying anything. He’s too focused on how he sinks into you - a single digit but so tightly it feels like there’s no way he’ll survive his cock buried inside.

You’re a dream come true. He never wants to wake up.

“More. Please.” You’re so polite, he almost laughs. You’d really taken his words to heart - always asking for what you wanted now. He can’t deny how proud he is. It blossoms in his chest, juxtaposed greatly against the salaciousness that drives him to do exactly as you ask.

His index finger slips in alongside the other. You make that noise he loves, grinding your core against the flat of his palm as he curls his knuckles and seeks out that spot. He knows he’s struck gold when he taps it experimentally, pressure turning light but unrelenting when a choked cry ricochets off your tongue and onto his sweat-slicked shoulder.

“Right there?”

Your nod is enough of an answer.

He redoubles his efforts, fucking you with measured glides of his fingers and precise presses against your g-spot. In no time at all, you’re barely coherent, mumbling his name in a slew of breaths that has him grinning. You’re a sight to behold, moaning so obscenely you’d be ashamed you weren’t so preoccupied by the fact that every part of you feels as if it’s about to splinter.

“Miru— Princess—” Your clit aches and you nearly shriek when he applies pressure against it with the pad of his thumb, swiping your cum over it in slow circles. He wants you so badly - just as bad as you want him- but he’s torn halfway between watching you unravel by his hand and wanting that same euphoria when he’s buried home in your dripping pussy.

“Please, please, please.” There are tears in your eyes. You’re so close you can practically taste it, entire body shaking with the effort of keeping the coil from snapping. “Yoongi, please.”

He’s a fucking goner then, filling you with a third finger and grinding his palm against your clit as you come apart beneath him.

It starts in your toes, stealing feeling all the way up your calves and over your thighs. You’re only aware you’re trembling because it vibrates through Yoongi’s body, looped back to yours when he mouths across your shoulders, sucking memories into your heated, sweat-sweet skin. The stimulation is what keeps you from floating off on a cloud of bliss, the warmth in the pit of your stomach liquifying your bones.

“Are you tired?” Because you certainly look tired - too fucked out to properly meet his stare as he looms over you, both hands adjusted to rest comfortably over your hips.

You are, but it doesn't matter. You haven’t gotten what you wanted - not really - and you aren’t about to let it go without asking.

He’d taught you that.

You smile up at him, doe-eyed and alluring. A hand reaches for his, curls around the fingers still glossy with your slick, and squeezes. “I still need you.”

They’re words he’ll never tire of - also words that have him kicking out of his briefs and rolling your thong down your legs, all too eager. He’s painfully hard, leaking pre-cum and purple at the tip, but he fists himself in slow, measured pumps regardless. It’s a show for you, more than anything.

“ Please.” So pretty, so ready. He can’t resist.

Yoongi sinks against you, the head of his cock brushing through your folds as he slots himself into place with his paint-free hand. The other, still coloured garishly bright, brushes the curve of your lip, the delicate skin beneath your eye. It’s so tender you can’t help but blink, caught off-guard.

“I love you,” you say, though you’re sure he’s meant to, too. You can read it in his eyes - brilliant and bright like a beacon in the night.

He speaks with a roguish grin and a fluid press of his hips. “I know.”

You fit like two puzzle pieces, the stretch perfect as he sinks deeper, a low groan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re so tight around him but he glides in easily, coaxed to fill you by your wetness and the soft, whiny noises you make.

“Holy shit,” he manages once he’s buried as deep as he can go, head spinning with the way you clench around him, nearly stealing the words off his tongue. “Am I dreaming?”

Laughter is a salve - a catch-all remedy for anything that ails him. It pulls him to the here and now, drawing his attention from the overwhelming bliss that creeps up his spine and recentring it on you, beautiful and bashful beneath him.

“No, you’re not.” It’s a caricature of your voice but he doesn’t mind. He loves that he can bring you to this.

“Thank God.”

Except it’s not God you’re thanking when Yoongi begins to move against you, dragging his cock through your walls with such slow, measured strokes you think you might combust. It’s his name when he pulls almost fully out of you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, before snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt. It’s his name that rolls off your tongue like a mantra, hoping and praying and begging for more as he consumes you wholly, in no half measures.

It’s him - Min Yoongi, your muse, your love - that has you crying out, pleasure coursing through your veins as he adjusts and fills you at a completely new angle, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips.

“Yoongi - please.” You’re chanting the two words again, turning them into a song he’ll never get out of his head, when you spasm around him. His eyes nearly roll back into his head, the sensation turning his rhythm sloppy as he chases the same high. The hand that had previously been propping him up falls, thumb seeking out your clit as he charges toward the precipice.

“One more, love. Once more for me, okay? I want you to come with me.”

He asks so nicely you can’t deny him - even as the overstimulation takes over. You’re shaking so badly you’re not sure how he keeps you in place; it’s a tremor that won’t stop, traipsing over every limb until you’re sobbing.

“I love you,” he chokes out as he tumbles over the edge, falling headlong into climax with you in tow. It’s so strong it feels like it blinds you, spotting your vision with white as he fills you with his cum and continues to fuck you through it, milking every last moment just like you were his slowly softening cock.

You don’t have it in you to answer, far too exhausted by the last orgasm that has your limbs turned to jelly. Yoongi doesn’t mind though; he likes the just-fucked afterglow and how you sink into his arms when he slips out of you and onto his side.

He eyes the cum that spills onto your thighs, pearlescent and going to waste. He has half a mind to push it back where it belongs.

He only doesn’t because of the words you speak next, hardly above a whisper but loud enough that he groans, burying his face into your hair. “So, thanks, Taehyung?”

“Can you not?” It’s a playful response, with teeth bared against the sweat-slicked nape of your neck.

“Sorry.” A beat. He wonders if you’ve fallen asleep suddenly. “I meant thanks, Titanic.”

author note. this was a drabble prompt i got from the lovely @hecticwonderer and i kind of just... ran with it. oops.

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crystalnet · 3 years

Photo

Current X-book Mood-Ring Guide

There are an awful lot of X-books on the shelves right now. They are most of my monthly haul. No joke it is at least 12 books at this point. So, in order to cope with that, I’ve organized all the books into one of four different categories, aka “booster-pack” themes. Click through if you want to jump aboard the best X-men run since Morrison before the boat pushes off for the Hellfire Gala this summer! These are the 4 categories:

-Mainline Blue/Gold-style

-Jr. Mutants Academy

-2nd-Wave Krakoa Niche (aka “the good stuff”)

-Cetera

#1. Mainline Blue/Gold-style

Mood-color/vibe: Actually 90s-style Blue/Gold and like bright primary colors (but also muddy-ass colors from X-factor).

Books included: X-men, Excalibur, Marauders, X-force

Typical Pokemon: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Wolverine, Betsy Braddock, Kate Pride, Beast, Black Tom, Storm, Bishop, Emma Frost, Rogue, Gambit, Jubilee, Kid Omega, Domino, a Pyro, Iceman, Avalanche. Rare drops: Apocalypse, X-23, Synch, Darwin, Kid Cable, Fantomex (in that Giant-Sized!)

These be the books for someone who wants those direct, mainline, core-members-style lineups. On the main book (adjective/word-play-less X-men) Hickman/Yu have worked wonders with their run, but it hasn’t been a stable team, instead focusing on Scott and his adventures dealing with some of the more prominent threats to Krakoa.

So it’s essentially been a revolving door of a book with Cyclops sometimes leading assaults against major problems and sometimes just being a dad to teenagers from the future, and it’s been generally great.

Meanwhile, the teams we find on the other 3 books could basically be a main X-men team if you just throw Jean/Scott/Logan onto them (except for X-force because Logan is usually on that one, actually, and Jean sort of is..)

X-force: Wolverine usually, Kid Omega, Beast, Jean (quitting?/back-up), Domino sorta, Sage, Black Tom Cassidy, Colossus once? Forge sorta. [Lot’s of backup or sometimes-members on this team but kinda centers on Beast, Omega, Wolverine and Jean or Domino]

Excalibur: Betsy Braddock, Rogue, Jubilee, Gambit, Avalanche, baby/dragon Shogo, Apocalypse (honorary, mia)

Marauders: Kate Pride, Storm, Emma Frost, a Pyro, Iceman, Bishop

On X-force, you get a little Morrison-homage energy going on what with Beast being sus, Quentin Quire having a character arc and dating a cuckoo and then all the body-horror. This one hasn’t been amazing and the art sometimes has issues for me but it’s been a solid expansion on Krakoa-Era lore.

On Marauders, you get a book centered on Kate Pride and the Hellfire Club. It’s been aight but I’m not the biggest Kate fan. Definitely has heart and the art has been beautiful.

Excalibur started a little weird for me... I lack the references or attachment to Otherworld or Davis/Moore-era Excalibur so I don’t think I’m even really the target demo, but I will say it recently, post-X of Swords-- which it set up single-handedly basically [along w/ one ish of X-men]-- has gotten more interesting in recent months. The Betsy + Kwannon stuff was great! And Howard did great with Apocalypse before he went off to another dimension. (points off for iffy color-palettes sometimes).

#2. Jr. Mutants Academy

Mood-color/vibe: Pastel

Books: New Mutants, X-factor, Children of the Atom, Cable

Common Pokemon: Magik, Cable, Rachel Summers, Doug, Warlock, Armor, Boom Boom, Scout, Dani, Warpath, Karma, Glob, Beak, Daken, Eye-boy, North Star, Rachael, Prodigy those Children of the Atom kids, Magma, Rahne, and a lot of lil kid mutants runnin’ around in Akademos/the Wild Hunt area of Krakoa whose names I don’t know yet.

This is the junior-crew club. New Mutants would be in the Blue/Gold books practically due to being part of the first wave of post-HoX/DoX books, but its basically been 3 different books/teams over its run and along w/ Children/Cable/X-Factor, it feels like there a whole handful of books offering up junior-crew shenanigans specifically.

So New Mutants has been all over the place, starting with a lineup of OG Claremont era New Muties, then focusing on a team consisting of Glob, Armor and Boom Boom (perpetual...”young adult” I guess?), now settling on a new team under Vita Ayala with Magik and Warpath heading up a squad of young ‘uns (beautiful art on the recent stretch). Hopefully it’s settling into its self now, because I can see longevity for this new squad... maybe.

I still have to read the 2nd issue of Children of the Atom, but am intrigued by it. X-factor meanwhile seems to be focusing on queer representation with people like Prodigy, Daken, North Star and Rachel on the same group together. Polaris started out the lead of that title only to be plucked out by Duggan (or the fanbase) for the main X-team coming up. This honestly makes sense, because even though she isn’t drawn this way, shouldn’t Polaris be considerably older than someone like Rachel? Eh.

Also, in issue #4 of X-factor we had a beautiful homage to the Academy X mutants, with several cameos, so it seems like Marvel is intentionally using these junior-crew books to acknowledge all the various junior-crews, whether it be OG Claremont kids, Generation X people, the kids intro’d under Morrison and Whedon, or even the dang ‘ol Academy X ones, they seem to all be getting at least some representation in some book.

Also Cable owns. Didn’t know I’d like the Kid-Cable guy until this book and his appearances in the main title, but now it’s confirmed. Him dating Esme, Kid Omega dating Phoebe? These crazy telepaths! Anyway, I hope Duggan’s main-team book is more like Cable than Marauders, in terms of pacing and characterization, but they both have beautiful art!

New mutants: Karma, Magik, Mirage, Scout, Warlock, Warpath and Wolfsbane

X-factor: Daken, Eye-boy, Polaris (quit?), North Star, Rachael, Prodigy

#3. 2nd-gen Krakoa Niche aka “the good stuff”

mood-color/vibe: purples, metaphysical/cosmic pallets, tertiary colors

books included: Hellions, S.W.O.R.D., Way of X

common Pokemon: I mean they’re basically all rare drops

This is the good stuff! Who would have thought. And when I think about it, Way of X and S.W.O.R.D., as part of the second wave of Krakoa-era books that started with Cable, both address some of the core issues and ideas that the whole HoX/DoX mini kicked off better than-- or at least more directly-- the other books. So I guess the non X-men, first-wave Krakoa books feel “mainline” in terms of their team lineups, but in terms of content, these newer ones almost feel more relevant by design. S.W.O.R.D. focuses on the cosmic context of the mutants post-Krakoa and Way is Kurt’s first spot-light moment in the era and is expressly concerned with Kurt’s addressing of the deeper moral quandaries that a people who have conquered death will be faced with. I mean, it's expressly about religion and like, spirituality-- a very tall order, but first issue pulled it off super deftly.

Also Hellions is better than it has any business being! Read this if you want savagely dark humor and some very obscure mutants + Havok/Psylocke/Sinister. But if I had to reccomend one, it’d be a tie b/w S.W.O.R.D and Way. First issue of Way was exceptional and got right into things and Kurt’s very well-written and will surely prove a meditative lead for a book like this, whereas S.W.O.R.D is epic in scale while still have sick character moments/dialogue. Manifold had a great issue or two and is now my favorite new mutant, even in the context of a somehow-actually-good King in Black tie-in. Damn! And everything going on b/w Magneto and Fabian Cortez (who was made to argue for why mutants should be allowed to murder “flatscans”/humans to the whole Krakoan council this week whilst naked. It’s fantastic. Hell, even the Snark-War sounds...interesting? What’s happening to me.

S.W.O.R.D.: Fabian Cortez, Magneto, Abigail Brand, Peeper, Manifold, Wiz-Kid, Mentallo, Fenzy

Children of the Atom: Cherub, Marvel Guy, Cyclops-Lass (?), Gimmick, Daycrawler

Hellions: Havok, Psylocke, Empath, Orphan-Maker, Nanny, Wild Child, Sinister, Greycrow

#4. Cetera

Mood-color/vibe: colorless, “normal” element

Books included: Fallen Angels (complete 6-ish mini), All the damn Wolverine books, the uh Sword of X “guidebook” and the new Peach Momoko Demon Days books and whatever X-men Legends is.

These are titles which are either complete or don’t fit in with other things or in Demon Days or the X-men Legends’ books’ case, I think don’t even occur in-universe. And per usual of course there are multiple Wolverine books... the main one seems fine.

Anyway all-in-all, these books are doing weirdly well. Mutants as a concept shouldn't be able to be spread this thin story-telling wise, but the books don’t really feel redundant and most are filling a specific niche or purpose. I may be dropping some of the first-wave Blue/Gold style books (Marauders and X-force I'll probably just check in on from time-to-time), but S.W.O.R.D., Way, the main book under Hickman or Duggan and Hellions all have me verrrrrry satisfied. Even standard stories in the Krakoa era feel special, and that speaks to the power of Hickman’s vision. Hellfire Gala, here we come.

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teamfreewill2pointo · 3 years

Text

Family Don't End with Blood Transcription

Family Don't End with Blood Transcription [twitter version]

Jared: So, in Supernatural, our character Bobby Singer played by the wonderful Jim Beaver has a quote, “family don't end in blood”.

Jensen: You know, it's one of the many, kind of, mottos of-of Supernatural and it is the family that you choose and it is the people that you care about and that you fight next to and that you fight to save. And that inspire you. And that push you.

Singer: No, I think definitely the family was going to be a theme right from the beginning. I mean the Pilot story was and- and whatever the mythology of season one was- was, you know, the search for dad.

Dabb: You'll watch the first few moments of the Pilot and it very clearly plants this flag about what it is. It is a family show.

Misha: Like who's your clan and who are the people you care about the most? And obviously, two orphaned brothers couldn't care about anything in the world more than one another, but they envelop this community of people who also care about them and one another. Alex: Sam and Dean and Cas and Jack and these host of characters are kind of... with loss forced to reassess what family is, and what I love about the show is they kind of build their own version of that.

Jared: There's so many characters along the way that Sam and Dean treated as they would treat each other. Dabb: I think that was a core part of this, because Sam and Dean are two guys that, because they define everything by family, they're always looking for a family.

Jared: You know, not everybody out there has a wonderful family life as far as their- their blood relatives.

Dabb: Sam and Dean come from a very dysfunctional family. Their father suffered this great, you know, world shattering tragedy and really spent the entire rest of his life trying to get revenge. And unfortunately, Sam and Dean came second to that.

Dabb: So when they got to be an adult, and I think a lot of people that come from dysfunctional families find this... is it becomes less about the family you're born into and it becomes about your family by choice.

Jensen: When you find someone that's willing to fight alongside you for what you collectively believe is the right thing, then it instantly makes you brothers and sisters in arms. And that's exactly what these two brothers found. They found other brothers and sisters in arms.

Singer: Bobby really served as a, you know, a father figure. One thing we always tried to do is that if we had a guest character that really kind of hit the mark, we would say oh, you know, we got to keep going with this- with this person. Bobby, that, character is certainly one of them.

Beaver: If you're walking the walk, and not just talking the talk, I think probably respects that immensely and- and he sees that in Sam and Dean.

Buckner: Crowley, Charlie, Jack, Rowena... all these people had a commonality. I mean, they were all alone in their own little universes to a- to an extent.

Singer: When Misha showed up... and created the- the Castiel character, we knew we had something special.

Misha: It's been such an interesting arc with the character of Castiel on Supernatural.

Jensen: You know sure the story at the core was- was about these brothers, but it was also about this- this ragtag gang of fighters.

Samantha Smith: Most hunters are solitary. It’s lonely. And, when they can connect with other people who understand their pain and their life and their dedication and their purpose, there's going to be a bond there.

Jensen: I'm thankful for, not only the characters and how they were written and how they affected the Winchester's, but also for the actors and actresses that have portrayed them, because they too have become family with Jared and I. And they are- they're part of this crazy circus that is supernatural.

Dabb: Jared and Jensen are both excellent actors, but I think their biggest achievement on this show is the example they were able to set for everybody. And you know, it's kind of a famous story, but Eric Kripke sat them down, you know, the first season we're like, “This is your show. You guys set the tone of this show.”

Kripke: They're bringing so much more to it than I ever could have written, in their grounding it and they're making it real. And it's clear you watch these guys, and they're smart guys, going through this story and I'm-I’m thrilled.

Dabb: Both Jared and Jensen are capable of carrying a show on their own. As they now will go off and do, I'm sure. The fact that we could get them together for this period of time- again, I don’t know that’s something you are going to repeat on a TV show for a while.

Buckner: They-they really are quite incredible. Jensen learned to tap dance for an episode... I keep hearing the phrase “once in a lifetime” and probably so.

Dabb: To get two guys at this caliber who are leading men to come in and do that job into it so well, and so thoughtfully- again I-I said it earlier, but I don't think I'm gonna find that again in my career.

Jensen: That's the crazy thing about being on a show this long and- and not just being on a show this long, but being with a large- a large majority of our crew has been with us either from the beginning 15 years or they've been with us 12 years, or 10 years, or eight years.

Jensen: That's a long, long time for these professionals to be in one- to be on one job.

Singer: Our set was always loose. The crew felt part of the family. They were in on the joke. The guys were always great to the crew, had great respect for the crew.

Sheppard: Truly great people all at the peak of their abilities. Some great, great wonderful writers, some extraordinary producers over the years, the various showrunners from Kripke at the beginning, to Sera, to- to Jeremy, to Andrew. It's been an amazing journey.

Misha: I've just been both grateful and inspired to be around a crew like this. We laugh so much and I-I know that Jared and Jensen and the producers all agree, we wouldn't be here if the crew of Supernatural wasn't the crew that it is.

Alex Calvert: I came into this show relatively late compared to everybody else.

The relationships that I've seen at work and away from work are incredible. People have started families. People have had kids on the show. You know, I think these people are-are gonna be in each other's lives forever because of this bond that they formed.

Dabb: This is a show where assistants have gone on to write scripts.

This is a show where crew people have gone on to direct. It's a show that has tried to be supportive to people who show that passion and that work ethic to get up there and do it. I certainly have felt supported. I mean, I-I went from a staff writer to running the show and you know, so obviously I felt very supported (laughs) in kind of my goals.

Jared: You know, I've-I’ve met my wife, mother of my kids. I met one of my groomsmen. I met a ton of dear friends, and I have a new extended family, our SPN family.

Jared: I'm honored and flattered and grateful that I got to be a part of that journey.

Alex: I think the- the overwhelming thing that I'd like to express for me and I think for a lot of people on the show that maybe don't get a say, which I want to represent, is the crew and the people that build the show and paint the show.

Alex: You know, costume to show and- and are here everyday working on it. I think a lot of it is just gratitude and thankfulness that- that we get to do what we do.

Dabb: On the writing side of it here in Burbank, that's always felt like there's a family atmosphere. I feel it's a great gift where we work with so many people that are both talented and professional.

Buckner: They- a lot of laughter in that room. I remember a tabletop strewn with toys, and play-dough, and slinkies, and etcha-a-sketches, and blocks that got played with endlessly. I know there's a whole wall covered with index cards with various, either funny, pointless, or stupid, things that the writers have said over the course of many, many, many meetings that's tacked up on a wall. And remember just a lot of give and take and a lot of feelings of safety in that room. It was maybe the largest production office I've worked in. The tiki bar in the middle of the office, always laid out with cakes or whatever for birthdays.

Eugenie: We were a community. We were a brotherhood. We were a sisterhood. And, that kind of was the way everything was run.

Buckner: One of the writers I remember once, had major surgery and had to come to work in sweats, a really loose fitting stuff. So a lot of the writers showed up in PJs as a-as a sort of show of solidarity. So there's just lots of ways that people supported each other.

Dabb: And I just feel incredibly lucky to have worked with, number one with Bob Singer because I've worked with him for 15 years now. It has been the most rewarding... partnership, mentorship, whatever you want to call it, of my professional life. In terms of being able to learn from him.

Jared: His involvement in the series was so necessary from day one. He can walk on set, look at me, not really saying anything, just give me a face, and I'm like got it. And that's built over time.

Singer: I come in with a plan, but it's not chipped in stone and then, you know, lots of times, you know, the guys would have ideas. Sometimes I would accept them readily. Sometimes, we had to talk about them, but there was always this mutual respect.

Jensen: He has been just this... Yoda character for our show. I call him my confident captain. He's just- he's been- he's been the real compass of this- of the show for so long.

We have come together in times of crisis. We've lost several of our crew members. We lost Yap. We lost Matt Riley. We lost Kim Manners in Season 4.

Singer: Kim was a great guy and a great director. Everybody responded to his talent but also to who he was.

Jared: He used to say, you know, we're not curing cancer, and I spend more time with you than I do my wife, my kids, my dogs. So, if we're not having a good time, then what are we doing?

And so we tried to make sure that we kept it light and that we all realized like hey, we're putting on makeup and playing pretend for a living.

Sheppard: I came into a couple of episodes, with a show that Kim Manners told me I really needed to do someday because I would really enjoy it and I'd love the boys. And he was right. He was absolutely right.

Singer: The hardest part of season four was- was losing Kim. And I think the… the best thing we could say about losing Kim was that we never replaced him. I didn't feel like anyone should have that job other than- than Kim. So, you know, that was hard.

Jensen: I'm not quite sure when the-the phrase was coined, but the SPN family, as the- the fandom is- is lovingly known as. What we are on set as a crew is now reflected in- in what we see as a fandom.

Misha: The SPN family, Supernatural family. I've seen so many instances of people gathering together to go support a Supernatural fan.

Misha: It's so lovely and inspiring and I-I-I honestly, you know, hope that that could serve as a template for how greater society works.

Buckner: When these guys were feeling for each other, or for other characters, or when they were afraid, or, you know, when they loved somebody, it just radiated off the screen, and the fans really picked up on that.

Jared: I know several of the fans personally and care about them deeply. And it's neat to talk about a shared passion. Man, I love Supernatural too. Like, I love the storyline too. I like that episode too. Like let's talk about it.

Jensen: We have this unique situation with our show where we're able to do these fan conventions and we do them quite often and it gives us an opportunity to get in front of a lot of these people and have honest real conversations with them face-to-face. And that's, in my opinion, that's helped shape the show.

Buckner: And this is not just limited to the United States. It's a worldwide thing. I mean, there are these conventions held, you know, everywhere in the world.

Eugenie: The fans are so polite. They're- they're very respectful of each other's appreciation of the same show they appreciate. It's like we're all in this together.

Alex Calvert: I can tell you that the people that I've met and that have been affected by the show and the fans of the show will- will tell you a hundred times over that this is not the end, that this goes on forever.

Singer: They've bonded over this show. And-and have created their own Supernatural family. And have a tremendous respect for what we do, but respect for each other.

Just a motivation of why we wanted to always keep the show going and keep it fresh was not to disappoint the fans. We certainly didn't want to disappoint them, because we didn't want to disappoint family members.

Dabb: There's nothing I won't miss. This has been, creatively speaking, an incredible gift.

Buckner: Just be able to go to work and have that kind of freedom and not dread going into a place.

Jensen: We love the show. We love the story.

We love these characters. We love the- we love the people that we make this show with. I hope and I believe that that translates on camera.

Eugenie: You know, there's always reruns. I'll always be able to see Sam and Dean.

Alex Calvert: I think everybody loves that- that Sam and Dean, you know, can go through hell together literally, and give each other a big hug at the end of it and know that they're gonna be alright because they have each other. I think that's a really beautiful concept of the show.

Singer: That bond is really, I think, you know, the heart and soulless show, and what gave us the longevity that we had.

Misha: I also genuinely hope that the supernatural family is something that carries on past the end of the shooting of the show. I hope we can continue collectively to do good in the world and to set a good example and to be a family to one another.

Jared: Sam and Dean, much like Jared and Jensen, over the course of Supernatural were allowed to add many members to their family, and they would do anything for their family members and vice versa. This world and this journey isn't just about fighting for yourself or fighting for somebody that it'll- it'll benefit you. It's not about the glory. It's about doing what's right and taking care of good people. And I think Supernatural from day one has been able to accomplish that. [Huge thanks to Kira who helped me clean this up!!]

End of the Road Special Transcription Winchester Mythology Transcription

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