#so I recall a fanfiction years ago that reminded me of this story
Text
The Ghost and Miss Tyler
Don’t ask me why this came to me earlier today but I had to make it. I love this book and film and I feel there is a real lacking of ghost love stories lol! Anyway- how fitting would that be as a ninerose au?! I should do that some day… haha.
#nine x rose#so I recall a fanfiction years ago that reminded me of this story#I doubt I could ever find it again but it was awesome and had a way better ending than The Ghost n Mrs Muir#ninth doctor#rose Tyler#the ghost and mrs. muir#that’s the original book/film for anyone who’s interested and hasn’t seen yet
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Mask... Take it off
Title: The Mask... Take it off
Author: SomeonexSomeone
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Summary: Ghost is finally home, and you want. to help him demask.
Authors Note: Did I come back after an unexpected 2-year hiatus just to post something about a man I only know from fanfiction? Yes, yes I did. Crazy bc I actually simp for Soap way harder and if he could only dick me down rq i would sure appreciate it thanks-
His mask was always on.
You knew better than anyone it was a physical reminder of his guarded heart, the years of trauma and suffering he endured, the hope for himself to take whatever broken parts of himself he could and piece together someone who could help the world. Only getting thicker with each year, the mask was his reminder to protect those who needed it. Including himself.
Hard to know what a person is thinking without seeing their face, right? Simon Riley was an enigma.
But there was something in the way his eyes moved, the way they would follow as you walked around the room, carefully putting away his gear into a neat pile as he disrobed. Sitting at the end of your shared bed, he was a hulking specimen of a man. You couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion, flickering to them for a moment before returning to your task.
You couldn’t look him in the eyes, not yet. That didn’t stop you from being able to feel them burning into you though.
After years of practice, he didn’t need to look to be able to know what button to press in what order, what hook to pull, what buckle to unsnap to free himself of his gear. He was meticulous, as with everything else he did, but his eyes were the only thing to betray his stoic personality. He watched you with a deep gaze as you silently took care of him like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t making his hands tremble the slightest bit. How long has he been gone? How many nights apart from you? And how long was he allowed to stay before his phone crackled to life and he was whisked away on another endless journey? You didn’t want to know.
Neither did he, to be honest.
His eyes were trying to catch every little detail into his memory so he could pretend your time apart didn’t feel as long as it did. Your hair was different, he noted, and your nails were painted a different color. He didn’t recognize the pajamas you were wearing, nor the new pair of shoes that were by the door. Changes, changes, changes. He couldn’t help but notice them. He faintly recalls a story he read long ago, about a painting that changed every day despite it being impossible. You were just as beautiful as he remembers, just…different.
Your mannerisms, however, were completely the same. You skillfully tucked straps away, folded his padded vest just so, and even carefully untied the laces on his boots so they could slide off with little effort. You were kneeling in front of him now, pushing the boots to the side, making sure to wind the laces together and place them inside so they wouldn’t go everywhere on the floor. Simon couldn’t take his eyes off of you, not for a second. How he had missed you. He felt like a schoolboy again, tilting his head softly to and fro in order to catch your eyes. To get you to look at him for a single second, to feel relieved that you were here and you were safe.
Your eyes trailed up from his feet to his knees and thighs, no doubt looking for any new or reopened injuries. Your fingers carefully skimmed behind them. Wary. His skin erupted in goosebumps wherever you touched. You moved up higher, gently moving over his stomach towards his side where his latest injury was. Without even looking at his face, you could see the flinch in his body as you grazed the stitches over his shirt, only recently been patched up. You leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his side, a silent apology (for what, he didn’t know). He almost smiled to himself. No doubt you were looking for anything he might have “forgotten” to tell the medic. Wouldn’t be the first time he hurried his own examination along to get the nurses to his teammates faster. After all, why waste their time on tiny cuts and bruises when he could simply come home to you and be showered in love and care he spent every waking moment craving. His hands were clenching against the blankets.
You continued on. Your fingers gently ran along his knuckles, gentle kisses of your fingers against hands that were trained to kill. That has killed. You didn’t even flinch, moving both your hands to his arms, gracefully sliding them up and up and your kisses continued on their trail from his injury. To his ticklish side, his rib cage, a cheeky one to his peck, and up and up until they reached the edge of his mask. His breath hitched. Years, he’s known you, and for years he’s trusted you. You know this. Know that this man trusts you with his life, a testament to the fact that you were one of the rare people to see his face (and more than once at that). But you still feel a little hurt when he flinches at your cold fingers sliding underneath it to press on either side of his neck.
Afraid. Closed off.
You gently nose your way up, running it along his face until your finally, finally, eye to eye. He’s hunched over so your neck isn’t cramping as much as you continue to kneel on the floor, and despite his large stature and the sheer predatory aura he emits without thinking, you can see his vulnerable eyes as they bleed into yours. You can see his struggle, the silent argument he’s having in his head to fight the instinct he’s carried with him for years and let you strip him bare. You press a gentle kiss to his cloth-covered lips, a silent acceptance. You love him, and will love him, no matter what. His lips chase yours as you pull away, his eyes flickering desperately for a second before he registers your resolve.
Ah. You want to help him.
Slowly, you lean down again, pressing your lips to the space at the end of his mask. Between his shirt and the mask is a sliver of skin that you greedily nibble at. He sighs, a smile sneakily tugging at the corner of his mouth. Little by little your kisses and nibbles push the cloth up, revealing more and more for your gentle kisses to attack. They’re light and delicious and Simon can’t seem to get enough, moving his hands to grasp at anything he can reach in order to pull you toward him in a desperate attempt for you to do more. More kisses, more affection, more love. More, more, more.
Your nose tickles his jawline, and he tickles you in return with his unshaven shadow. His breath hitches as the mask slips past his lips. He nearly doesn’t realize your lips attached themselves to his to replace the scratchy material that had just pushed past them. You kiss like you’re in a rush, a gasp of heavenly air after being trapped underwater for a second longer than comfortable. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that, should he have been a lesser man, he would have blushed at. He tries to desperately pull you closer, despite your body already being pressed against his chest, his arms nearly encircling your like a snake around its prey.
Once again you pull away too soon for his liking, leaving him breathless and wanting more. Your lips continue upwards, kissing his nose and the rosy apples of his cheeks as they are revealed. The room feels sweltering, but he can’t let you go. Not now, not after remembering what it’s like to have you in his arms. He has to close his eyes as the mask pushes over them. Your lips kiss each one before he’s able to open them again. You continue even into his hairline, pressing affectionate kisses there until the mask has been pushed completely away. It falls onto the bed behind him. For something that controls his day to day life, Simon easily forgets it in lue of bringing you back to his lips once more. You giggle quietly against his mouth as he attacks you.
Kissing you is like a fantasy he never believed was possible, and desperately, desperately, he wants to memorize each and every detail. He nearly eats you whole, and you’re nearly tempted to let him. He doesn’t attempt to stop the soft sounds that escape him as you once again pull away from him. Your smile is an easy Simon forgiveness pass. He can’t find it in himself to stay upset, especially not as you press one more kiss to his lips before standing, tugging on his hand in order to get him to follow you to the bath.
With his mask completely gone, you finally get to appreciate the small smile that morphs across his face, his adoring eyes saying everything you needed to hear. I missed you. I love you. Your Simon.
masterlist l mw masterlist
#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#i dont know how to explain this#im touchstarved#ghost x you#ghost x yn#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon riley fluff#someonexsomeone
924 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that St. Cecilia will never be canon in the series itself. But she's canon in Dethkomic, and that's just as good, right? 🖤
Dethkomic has been averaging about 70 hits per update on AO3, and according to my analytics, is seen by about 30 additional unique accounts/IPs overe here on Tumblr on or about the day that I update it.
Compare that to last week's Nielsen Ratings for the new episode of Metalocalypse, which was 0 - no episode exists, and I think we've earned our place as the top blue-toned Metalocalypse themed webcomic on Tumblr, today!
But seriously? It's story time!
When I was a kid in high school, not old enough to be looking at stories that contained adult themes, I would often find myself on the internet, looking at stories that contained adult themes. And there was so much of it to look at! One of my favorite writers at the time did much more than make sex stories, though. She wrote fanfiction - she wrote longfiction - and she had a continuing series that she'd update about once every two weeks.
Her fanfics were a-maz-ing. The canon characters had everything I loved them for in the show, but with so much more depth. There was an extended cast of what we'd call OCs today, too, and I came to love them as much as the familiar faces I knew from TV. The overarching themes were darker, the subject matter explored places a show on cable before 9PM couldn't, and of course - there was a good amount of sex thrown in for good measure. But! For as good as the grownup scenes this author wrote were, even the hornball 15 year old me couldn't deny the main attraction was the storyline itself, and how she'd taken a world we all knew and loved, and turned it into a place so many of us wanted to return to, every week. To a great many of us, it wasn't the show, but it was as good as the show.
And then one day, the show premiered its long-awaited third season, which featured an all new writing/production team, and her stories became better than the actual show.
I actually found myself looking forward to this author's fanfic updates more than the episodes that were airing on TV - and I wasn't alone. As it happened (as it usually happens), the show's eventual downfall couldn't be blamed on newbie writers (trying their darndest with a series that held a fuckton of lore, I have no doubt), as it also fell into a pretty crummy timeslot, could hardly hold the interest of even its most hardcore fanbase, and simply wasn't pulling the numbers it once was. It was not renewed for another season after that singular crappy one. A "conclusion" to the series was thrown together, and thus, fanfiction was all we had.
Those of you who are paying close attention (or who were in the fandom of which I'm speaking at the time - hi, @curiouslyhigh) might know what show I'm talking about, and that it recently had a resurgeance in popularity with a brand new comic series and more (which we old people are all very happy about). And while the final canon season is barely one I can recall a single epside of, I never forgot that fanfiction series, its cast, or its stories. All of them are still with me to this day, and in fact - I have gone back and re-read some of them as little as a few months ago, because I love them so much.
The world we live in today is much different than the world in which fanfiction was published, back then. We've seen authors and artists working on the IPs they used to create fan content for (I'm one of them!), we've seen fanfiction get greenlit as official (and one or two unfortunate instances of being outright stolen to become official), and maybe most importantly - we've seen a shift in copyright holders' opinions of fanfiction. I'll remind everyone reading this who may not remember or is too young to know otherwise, but yeah - there once was a time that we had to hide this stuff (especially the porn).
I'm afraid I haven't gotten a phone call from Brendon, telling me he's canonizing Dethkomic and sending me a check for forty-seven million dollars to share amongst the creators whose OCs I've put into its panels, but at the end of the day, the cooperative nature of fanfiction and official content has never been more celebrated than it is now. I like to think we all are capable of creating amazing stories with fanfiction, fanart, and other transformative works, which will be held in the hearts of all who read them as much as the canon. I like to think the fan works we do even had a hand in making the Metalocalypse movie a reality since, again... it's not like we had any new episodes to gush over. And I think that's pretty special. I think we should be happy about that.
At the end of the day, I'm making stuff for you guys. To me, when it comes to Dethkomic, the only thing I hold closer to my heart than its story and characters, is the knowledge that you guys feel the same way. I feel like the luckiest writer in the universe to have people looking forward to my works the way that a lot of you guys do. I will never take it for granted.
Dethkomic truly does love you. <3
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
ao3 wrapped [reader edition]
Do you know how many works your read this year? Around 2021 according to my AO3 history
Longest work you read this year? Didn't check but Once Upon An Eclipse by LeeRyder is likely the longest (a Genshin Ragros fic I highly recomment)
Shortest work you read this year (not including art published on ao3)? Not a clue I'm too lazy to check the 101 pages of my history to find out.
Do you have any works you read that are between you and your web browser? Nope, I'm shameless.
Did anything you read make you cry? I can DEFINITELY name a few. Angst is so tasty.
What's your absolute favorite works you read this year? Once Upon An Eclipse (quoted above) and Interlude: tightrope ballet, a wonderful Genshin fic focusing on Collei's and Cyno's relationship by Lilith-writes (the 3rd installment of a series I HIGHLY recommend), Into Esthar (a running FFVIII SxS story) and naturally Et au matin se fâne, a fantastic KavehxAlhiatham story written in French that has stolen my heart.
Did you read through any authors entire works? I certainly did: Shakekp (French) and their beautiful Genshin stories and Hazel-Athena with their incredible (and massive) collection of ZoroxSanji stories in the One Piece fandom.
Pairing you read the most for? AlhaithamxKaveh
Favorite rare pair you read works for this year? Surprisingly I don't think I've read rarepairs this year?
Largest fandom you read for? Genshin Impact
Smallest fandom you read for? Sasaki To Miyano
Did you as a reader receive any works as gifts? Nope.
What trope do you think you read the most of? The Getting Together tope. I even filter my search with this tag! xD
Favorite AU you read this year? Modern AU
Favorite canon concept you read this year? I honestly don't have an answer to that question.
Were your comments coherent or mostly screaming? Both (both is good)
Did you leave any comments that had to be in more than one part? Dude, even with my best effort the AO3 comment section limit is HUGE so obvioulsy no.
How many works did you bookmark this year? Around 80.
Did you read any works published before this year? Of course! Commented on it too. <3
Did you download any works? Yes! I like downloading stuff to listen to them as I do m chores.
WIP's or completed works? Both (Both is still good!)
Category you read the most of? Hurt/Comfort
What time of day do you read the most during? Evenings.
Where do you read the most? At home
Do you read on your phone or on your computer? Both although I think I use my phone more.
Did you do any beta reading for anyone? Nope.
Do you listen to anything while reading? Yes, I like some music or ASMR sometimes.
Did any line/passage stick with you after you read it? I can't remember which fic it was, but I think it was a KavehxAlhaitham's fic where the author quoted an Arabic poem with the following: 'You ask me if I love her to death. Speak her name above my grave and watch me be brought back to life'. A shame I can't recall the poet's name.
Do you have any works you think are required reading for (fandom)? No. Reading is a hobby and being part of a fandom is not a job. You don't need to have read/watch any specific works to be part of the fun.
Biggest surprise for you as a reader this year? Une fleur en ce monde qui n'existe pas by Shakeskp. I've stopped reading in my maternal language ages ago, whether it is in fanfiction or published book, and finding this little gem reminded me how beautiful my own language could be, up to the point where I wrote a little thing in French myself (and enjoyed myself immensely).
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I promised on twitter to give a review of movie red with a focus on FRobin.
Sadly there is not much to say about the movie FRobin-wise. So, I'll try to give an overall impression about the movie without giving (hopefully) any spoilers!
Film RED Review!
As said, there is not much FRobin in the movie, Franky and Robin stand beside each other once. But there were many scenes that were only short and so hard to analyse.
But compared to that there wasn't any shipable scenes for Robin at all! At least if you don't count the fact that she seemed to hang around Brook a lot (which honestly is in this whole debate a highly underestimated contender!!).
What I really enjoyed was the soundtrack! I'm normally not a fan of songs that I don't understand but "Film Red" has an amazing soundtrack and I don't mean the songs by Uta (Ado) but the overall motifs!
Some felt so familiar and I can't put my finger on and I can't recall the songs (my brain is more one for remembering stories than melodies).
Either way it was great because it really underlined the overall athmospheres of the scenes.
THIS IS NOT A MUSICAL! There is a lot of music but it's not a muscial!
Some things seemed illogical. There were a couple of scenes that made me think "excuse me? Who would act like that in that situation?" but compared to some other movies it was very linear and logical.
I heard before that the Strawhat crew is not as present in the movie but honestly, it felt better than some others. They all had the same amount of screentime, sticking together as a crew.
I liked that because in some movies you only get focus on a few characters and others are put on the backburner. So maybe the Strawhats overall weren't around as much (also because of the flashbacks to the story of Luffy and Uta) but it didn't feel like it! They all got to fight, they all got lines and they all worked together!
That is a HUGE plus in my book.
Which reminds me: I love Brook and good for him! Lmao
Anyway another point about this movie is something that might change the idea for some but... both Yasopp and Shanks still get the "Worst Dad" award.
Really... what the heck? XD I was not expecting THAT but yeah not going to say much more about it...
BUT SERIOUSLY?! ESPECIALLY NOT WITH THE SCENE SHORTLY BEFORE THAT?!
I WANT TO SAY THINGS! I CAN'T WITHOUT SPOILING STUFF. So I won't. God Damn It! XD
But! If you are a fan of Shanks, there will be at least two scenes where we get a full look onto his chest so look forward to that.
Also we saw a bit more of Shanks crew and how strong they are. Fascinating!
Another thing to look forward to are the second outfits for Coby and Helmeppo. I haven't seen a lot because the animation was very fast but what I saw looked really good!
One thing that got clear to me and that very fast was one plot twist. The second plot twist not so much... mostly because I hoped that would never be a plot twist in One Piece XD (I should have finished my fanfiction years ago gdi!)
But again, it was well done. Except that the whole thing could have been easily avoided xDDDD God, stupid idiots!
Special mention that Momonga was part of the movie. I love him.
Also holy shit Borsalino you crazy mofo!
Issho could have done more too... overall did the Marines not shine...
except Coby and Helmeppo! Also Blueno, suprisingly!
The BM Pirates that were there also did a good job! I despise Big Mom and her crew but the family-love the siblings have is really cute. Can't deny that. I had a couple of good laughs too!
Now on another note... the underlying theme overall is... like... serious. There are very serious undertones in the movie I won't get into right now because again that would be spoilers. But yeah... after the movie one girl said she almost cried and while I wasn't even near to crying I can understand if that movie touches you.
Last thing! I also now know what is up with this little guy and how Franky reacted to him:
Not really but also kinda what I expected. XD
Anyway let's give it two more months and I'll go deeper into the analysis if you want to hear it!
Everyone who still looks forward to see the movie! Have fun!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
all is soft inside chapter 16
a miragehound multipchapter fanfiction
Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!
previous | next
16. an atom and a star
Hi guys! It's been a while once more. I'll have longer notes for you at the end. As always, a reminder that this story exists outside of canon. Just imagine it as one of Wraith's multiverses ;)
CW: a little blood, some light gore.
Revenant can’t smile, but Elliott is completely positive that if he could, he would. His yellow eyes glow with a fierce, sick glee, and Elliott finds himself wishing he could rip the optics right out.
His head is still spinning, and he registers faintly that Bloodhound has stepped half in front of him, their back to him. His cheeks burn at the implication of needing to be protected. Surely they don’t think that lowly of him? But their body language says otherwise- their frame is slightly trembling in what he hopes is rage.
“What do you want, andskoti?” Bloodhound hisses, their voice harsher than it had been all evening. A shiver runs up Elliott’s spine.
“Thought I’d come down to the range for a little target practice,” Revenant drawls as he begins to circle them. “But would you look at what I found? Two little skinbags, going at it like rabbits. And I thought I was insatiable.” He laughs lowly, and the sound is horrible- like a sink draining after someone’s washed the dishes. “Never thought it would be the two of you, by the way. Oh, and what a treat, to see the great Blothundr unmasked at last. Though… that’s not really your name, is it, Luka?”
Luka?
“I do not know to whom you are referring,” Bloodhound says, and a certain stiffness enters their tone. Elliott picks up on it immediately.
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb,” Revenant replies, and the way he slinks through the shadows makes a shiver go up Elliott’s spine.
“You are mistaken,” Bloodhound snarls. “You and I had not met before the Games.”
“I think we both know that’s a lie.” Revenant’s head cocks to the side, and it’s almost like he’s staring deep into Bloodhound’s soul. “I’d never forget a face like that.”
An angry surge of indignation rises up in Elliott’s chest. “Hey-!”
“You are mistaken,” Bloodhound repeats, their voice stronger now. “I have never known anyone given the name of Luka, and neither have you.” As Revenant continues to stalk around them, Bloodhound shifts their weight, placing themself more fully in front of Elliott, and hot shame rises in his chest. I’m not some pathetic kid, Elliott thinks wildly.
“Whatever you say, Luka. I seem to recall burying my hand in your chest on Gaea, what was it… ten years ago now?” Revenant chuckles, and he flexes his claws menacingly. “I loved watching the lights go out of those pretty green eyes. Not quite sure how you survived that one. You’ll have to tell me sometime. Whatever happened to that friend of yours… What was his name?” He thinks for a moment, his metal claw tk-tk-tk-ing against his nonexistent cheek. “Boone?”
Discomfort rises more fully inside Elliott, and every fiber of his being screams at him to run, to scream, to do something. He gets the frightening feeling that he does not belong, that there is a great chasm between him and Bloodhound though they are only a few inches away. His lips still burn with their kiss, and the heat and the high in his body from their touch has yet to diminish. Shame flickers through him- why is he thinking about that at a time like this, when they are so clearly distressed?
He swears he sees their eyes flash red as they glare daggers at Revenant. “If you value your life, you will not speak another word.” All careful formality is gone now- Bloodhound spits out the words like they are venom in their mouth, and Elliott feels so, so alone.
Revenant lets out that awful, sink-drain laugh once more. Elliott wishes he could punch him in the face, and that the impact would hurt the damn murderbot. “Cute how you think you scare me- or anyone, for that matter.” He shakes his head and tsks. “I’m disappointed in you. Truly.”
“W-what the hell do you know?” Elliott spits out, hating that he doesn’t sound strong, hating his damn stutter. “Not a damn thing. Just get out of here.” He tries to step in front of Bloodhound, but they grab his arm and give him a piercing look. No, they seem to say, and his insides feel like static. Why the hell are they being so overprotective?
“Ah, little Elliott, I completely forgot about you,” Revenant says, a new sense of glee entering his voice.
“Shut up, you b-” Elliott starts, but Revenant pushes on through.
“Though, from what I hear, you’re used to that, hmm?”
A flurry of action, a whirl of red hair, an ominous metallic shhhhhing- and then a scream full of anger and the sound of breaking bones-
Bloodhound retreats from Revenant, holding their shattered, bleeding hand against their chest. “Guðirnir munu rífa þig í sundur fyrir það sem þú hefur gert, djöfull.” Every word they spit from their mouth feels like a devastating blow, and the calculated rage in their eyes makes Elliott step back in fear. He has never seen Bloodhound like this outside of a match, and it… scares him.
They scare him.
He knows the whispers that all the fans of the Games have. Bloodhound’s part bat, or Bloodhound’s a wild, untamed woodsperson, or Bloodhound drinks the blood of their enemies. He’s never understood the foundation of those rumors. Sure, Bloodhound was intimidating to the press, and they were always swathed in mystery, so it’s only natural for people to speculate. But Elliott never saw them that way. He’s always known they were human under all that gear. But now… is there truth to any of the rumors?
Is Bloodhound so much darker than he thinks they are?
Revenant whistles low, a disturbing noise without the anatomical expression to accompany it. It jerks Elliott back to reality. “Well, would you look at that?” Revenant’s hand converts back from a blade with a sickening sshhhhick, and he shakes off the blood. “Pretty gutsy. I’m almost impressed.” He almost seems to shrug. “Surprised that that right hook of yours isn’t what it used to be. You threw a better punch about a decade ago. Getting old and soft, huh?”
It’s Elliott’s turn to lunge at Revenant, but Bloodhound catches the back of his shirt at the last second. “Elliott, no,” they implore, their voice strained.
The robot’s grating laugh rumbles its way out of his chassis once more. “Awww, how sweet,” he withers. “One of these days you’ll have to tear yourself away from each other, you know. Oh, well. See you both in the ring.”
He stalks away, through the doors of the training hall, and out of sight.
Immediately, Bloodhound sags, pressing their fingers to the large weeping gash torn down their hand and across their forearm. Blood drips down their forearm to their elbow, macabre rivers of red painting their skin. Their hand is already purple, the mottled color of it extending down past their wrist.
“Bloodhound- god- what-”
Elliott is wary to approach them, but his instincts kick in. He grabs them by the shoulders and sits them down on the bench. “Don’t. Move,” he snarls, and he’s surprised by how angry he is. Bloodhound obliges, and Elliott is just barely able to start seeing how much pain they’re in.
“What the hell were you thinking? And what the hell just happened?” Elliott gasps, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. He knows the training hall has a whole cabinet full of downgraded med kits and bandages, so he practically sprints over to it and rifles through it.
“Elliott, please, I-”
“You’re a hell of a lot smarter than me, so why would you just haul off and punch him in the face? There’s no way any of us skinsuits could do a damn thing to him outside the arena, you know that!” His emotions are running high, but he doesn’t care. “Also, I don’t need you to stand in front of me and protect me like I’m some kid. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. And why was he talking to you like he knew you?” He locates some alcohol wipes, a bandage, and a med kit, noting with displeasure that it’s less than half the strength of the arena packs, but he has no other choice. “And who the hell is Luka?” He returns to Bloodhound’s side and gingerly grabs their arm.
“One question at a time, Elliott, please,” they implore through gritted teeth. He fully expects them to retreat, to pull away and insist they’re fine, but the pain of the injury seems to have immobilized them. Elliott presses a wipe to their skin, and it soaks up the blood immediately. They hiss in pain, and Elliott’s insides feel frozen in a horrible cocktail of anger and worry.
“Okay, fine,” he sighs as he cleans them up. “L-Let’s just start with this. Why did it seem like Revenant knew you? Not you, I mean… the real you.”
“Because he does,” they murmur. “I knew Revenant before the Games, but he was not aware of that.” Elliott stops dabbing up the blood, and meets their shell-shocked eyes. “Until tonight.”
He pauses. “W…What do you mean?”
Bloodhound’s eyes get glassy, and Elliott puts a hand on their shoulder to steady them. Their other hand covers Elliott’s, and thrill goes down his spine. They take a deep breath, and Elliott takes the opportunity to inject the syringe from the med kit. They hiss once more, and their grip on his hand becomes painful for a moment. But the medicine begins to work, and Elliott can see the bones shifting back into place.
The purple hue does not disappear completely, but the gash gradually closes, leaving a shiny, pink scar where it used to be. Bloodhound stares at their hand and watches it mend itself. “I… before the Games, I was…” They pause for a moment, and try flexing their hand. They wince, but their fingers move slowly. Elliott knows their hand is not fully healed, but hopefully they’ll be able to get proper meds from the med bay tomorrow. He sits next to them, and he notices their good hand remains in contact with him while he winds the bandage around their bad one.
They take a deep breath. “Before the Games, I was… not a good person, Elliott.” Their mouth pinches into a thin line, and they do not meet his anxious eyes. “I have made many, many mistakes in this life. Ones that I cannot rectify.”
Elliott is silent, at first. He’s known for a while that Bloodhound’s past is dark and fraught with trauma, but just how fraught is yet a mystery. Maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s the kiss they shared, he doesn’t know- but he does know that whatever the reason is for their loose tongue, he will listen openly.
“Like… what?”
Bloodhound is silent for a moment now. Then, “I was a… b-bounty hunter. Like the andskoti.”
The dissonance in his head is immediate. It feels like someone has driven a knife right through the tissue connecting the two sides of his brain. Bloodhound? Bounty hunter? He drops his hands to his lap, done with securing their bandage.
“When I left home, I was… aimless. I did not know who I was, or what I wanted from this life. I was… not sure I wanted to live it.” They hang their head, and massage the purple skin of their hand. “After some events… transpired, I found myself hunting down certain people for a high profile client. In my heart, I did not want to kill these people, but… I did not have a choice. I was… bound by something I cannot explain.” Bloodhound’s voice breaks at the end, and Elliott doesn’t know which kind of pain it’s from.
“Okay,” Elliott says slowly. “But… what about Gaea? And Luka? Why does he know your name, and I d-” He breaks off the end of that question before it exits his mouth. “H-how… how are you alive?” Elliott hesitates, then grabs their other hand, drawing their fingers away from their purple skin.
Bloodhound sighs. “You and your endless questions,” they murmur, a ghost of a smile coming to their face. They relax into his grip and meet his eyes for just a moment. “I had an assignment ten years ago that took me to Gaea. It was very difficult, very… complicated. My client wished for me to avenge a colleague of theirs.” They look down at their hand entwined with his, and a dark shade comes across their face. “There are eyes everywhere there, and Revenant was one of them.”
“Or, you know, two of them,” Elliott says before he can stop himself, and a weird flash of humor and shame grips his stomach.
Bloodhound shoots him an exasperated glare, but the corner of their mouth quirks up. “Yes, two of them. You know what I meant.” They shake their head a little, then continue. “He was assigned to… eliminate me. And he very nearly succeeded.” Their injured hand goes to their chest, and absentmindedly rubs the center of it.
Elliott’s mind whirls. He feels a million miles away and much too close, all at once. Minutes ago, Bloodhound was kissing him roughly against the wall, and he was wondering if it would lead to something… more, and now? Now they’ve just spilled the biggest secret he’s ever heard from them, and he has absolutely no idea what to say. He has no idea how to make it better, how to soothe their wounds. Both physical and emotional.
“Elliott?”
“Hmm?”
“You are uncharacteristically quiet.”
“Sorry, I just… It’s a lot,” he admits. “I wish I knew what to say, but… How are you even alive? That thing he said, ab-about… watching the light go out of your eyes.” He hesitates. “The way he said it sounded like he was sure. How could he be sure, and how could you still be here? I know he lies all the time, but come on, that sounded p-pretty convincing. And he remembers how you punch?” He’s babbling his thoughts out loud now, and he shuts up before anything else pops out. “And don’t give me th-that thing, that, ‘story for another time’ stuff again.” Whoops.
Bloodhound pulls their hand out of his grip and buries their face in it. “Elliott, I… I do not know.”
“Oh, come on, that’s worse than-”
“It is true,” they say firmly. He looks over to them, and they are glaring daggers. “I have no recollection of how I survived. And no matter how much you press, I will not magically remember, Elliott.” They break his gaze once more and take a few moments to retie their hair. For the first time, he sees how truly tired they are. Exhaustion presses at every limb, and he’s sure their injury isn’t helping.
“Sorry, sorry.” He can’t resist one more question slipping from his mouth. “Okay, sorry, Luka? Really? The murderbot knows your name and I don’t? Oh, god,” he realizes, remembering the stipulations they had given them. “He’s not family, is he? Oh my god, there’s no way you guys were-”
“Guði fyrir ofan, Elliott, no!” Bloodhound nearly yells, blessedly on the edge of laughter rather than anger. “Gods, no.” They rub their face with their hands, wiping away the sweat on their brow. “Luka is not my given name. It was a name I used while undercover. I told you I had not spoken my given name aloud in many years, and I was not lying.” They meet his eyes and give a half-hearted smile. “And I will not lie to you, in the future, Elliott.”
It still surprises him to see them so openly expressive; the mask has been a barrier between them for so long that they almost feel like a new person now. He wonders who they had been, before the darkness, before the scars. Their parents were both scientists… would they have worked together? Would he and Bloodhound have known each other? Would they have been friends?
“Thank you, Bloodhound,” he mutters. “Sorry, another question. Why did you keep… protecting me when Revenant was here? I know he’s an asshole, but…” He does not finish.
Bloodhound sighs. “I am sorry. I was…” Their cheeks color, and Elliott raises an eyebrow. “Seeing him here, outside the ring- it reminded me of what he did all those years ago. And I do not want him to do the same to you, Elliott, because I c-” Their eyes go wide, and they look away.
And for once, Elliott keeps his mouth shut.
He can feel himself staring as his mind works, and he shifts his eyes. It strikes him that this is Bloodhound. He knows them. Their past may be dark and murky, but he’s pretty sure they’re much more normal than the rumors give them credit for. They’re not some savage beast, hellbent on revenge and bloodshed and hatred. They’re not a terrifying creature of anger and rage. They’re just as human as he is, and a… handsome one at that. Real damn handsome. And they certainly feel… something about him, right?
He resists the urge to point out they missed a strand while tying up their hair. Bloodhound doesn’t give as much of a damn about their hair as you do, Elliott, he thinks. Thinking about hair makes him realize how late it really is (it takes at least an hour to get his lovely mop looking presentable in the morning) and he blows out a breath between his teeth. “Look, it’s really late. I think we could both use some rest, and you should probably get cleaned up a little better. And, you know, the dropship leaves at nine for Solace. That’s in…” He checks his watch and swears. “Five hours.” Then, before he can lose his nerve, he asks slowly, “Can I… walk you home?”
Bloodhound looks up, and they’re clearly a little surprised. “...I suppose,” they say finally, and it may not be a quick victory, but it’s one he’ll take. He holds up their respirator and they press it to their face and clip it around their neck. They pull out a pair of circular, tinted glasses from their bag and slip them on. They strike quite the intimidating figure with their fire-red hair and obscured eyes, and Elliott quickly looks away as his cheeks color.
“Let’s go,” he says softly, and they both exit the training hall.
Revenant can’t smile, but Elliott is completely positive that if he could, he would. His yellow eyes glow with a fierce, sick glee, and Elliott finds himself wishing he could rip the optics right out.
His head is still spinning, and he registers faintly that Bloodhound has stepped half in front of him, their back to him. His cheeks burn at the implication of needing to be protected. Surely they don’t think that lowly of him? But their body language says otherwise- their frame is slightly trembling in what he hopes is rage.
“What do you want, andskoti?” Bloodhound hisses, their voice harsher than it had been all evening. A shiver runs up Elliott’s spine.
“Thought I’d come down to the range for a little target practice,” Revenant drawls as he begins to circle them. “But would you look at what I found? Two little skinbags, going at it like rabbits. And I thought I was insatiable.” He laughs lowly, and the sound is horrible- like a sink draining after someone’s washed the dishes. “Never thought it would be the two of you, by the way. Oh, and what a treat, to see the great Blothundr unmasked at last. Though… that’s not really your name, is it, Luka?”
Luka?
“I do not know to whom you are referring,” Bloodhound says, and a certain stiffness enters their tone. Elliott picks up on it immediately.
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb,” Revenant replies, and the way he slinks through the shadows makes a shiver go up Elliott’s spine.
“You are mistaken,” Bloodhound snarls. “You and I had not met before the Games.”
“I think we both know that’s a lie.” Revenant’s head cocks to the side, and it’s almost like he’s staring deep into Bloodhound’s soul. “I’d never forget a face like that.”
An angry surge of indignation rises up in Elliott’s chest. “Hey-!”
“You are mistaken,” Bloodhound repeats, their voice stronger now. “I have never known anyone given the name of Luka, and neither have you.” As Revenant continues to stalk around them, Bloodhound shifts their weight, placing themself more fully in front of Elliott, and hot shame rises in his chest. I’m not some pathetic kid, Elliott thinks wildly.
“Whatever you say, Luka. I seem to recall burying my hand in your chest on Gaea, what was it… ten years ago now?” Revenant chuckles, and he flexes his claws menacingly. “I loved watching the lights go out of those pretty green eyes. Not quite sure how you survived that one. You’ll have to tell me sometime. Whatever happened to that friend of yours… What was his name?” He thinks for a moment, his metal claw tk-tk-tk-ing against his nonexistent cheek. “Boone?”
Discomfort rises more fully inside Elliott, and every fiber of his being screams at him to run, to scream, to do something. He gets the frightening feeling that he does not belong, that there is a great chasm between him and Bloodhound though they are only a few inches away. His lips still burn with their kiss, and the heat and the high in his body from their touch has yet to diminish. Shame flickers through him- why is he thinking about that at a time like this, when they are so clearly distressed?
He swears he sees their eyes flash red as they glare daggers at Revenant. “If you value your life, you will not speak another word.” All careful formality is gone now- Bloodhound spits out the words like they are venom in their mouth, and Elliott feels so, so alone.
Revenant lets out that awful, sink-drain laugh once more. Elliott wishes he could punch him in the face, and that the impact would hurt the damn murderbot. “Cute how you think you scare me- or anyone, for that matter.” He shakes his head and tsks. “I’m disappointed in you. Truly.”
“W-what the hell do you know?” Elliott spits out, hating that he doesn’t sound strong, hating his damn stutter. “Not a damn thing. Just get out of here.” He tries to step in front of Bloodhound, but they grab his arm and give him a piercing look. No, they seem to say, and his insides feel like static. Why the hell are they being so overprotective?
“Ah, little Elliott, I completely forgot about you,” Revenant says, a new sense of glee entering his voice.
“Shut up, you b-” Elliott starts, but Revenant pushes on through.
“Though, from what I hear, you’re used to that, hmm?”
A flurry of action, a whirl of red hair, an ominous metallic shhhhhing- and then a scream full of anger and the sound of breaking bones-
Bloodhound retreats from Revenant, holding their shattered, bleeding hand against their chest. “Guðirnir munu rífa þig í sundur fyrir það sem þú hefur gert, djöfull.” Every word they spit from their mouth feels like a devastating blow, and the calculated rage in their eyes makes Elliott step back in fear. He has never seen Bloodhound like this outside of a match, and it… scares him.
They scare him.
He knows the whispers that all the fans of the Games have. Bloodhound’s part bat, or Bloodhound’s a wild, untamed woodsperson, or Bloodhound drinks the blood of their enemies. He’s never understood the foundation of those rumors. Sure, Bloodhound was intimidating to the press, and they were always swathed in mystery, so it’s only natural for people to speculate. But Elliott never saw them that way. He’s always known they were human under all that gear. But now… is there truth to any of the rumors?
Is Bloodhound so much darker than he thinks they are?
Revenant whistles low, a disturbing noise without the anatomical expression to accompany it. It jerks Elliott back to reality. “Well, would you look at that?” Revenant’s hand converts back from a blade with a sickening sshhhhick, and he shakes off the blood. “Pretty gutsy. I’m almost impressed.” He almost seems to shrug. “Surprised that that right hook of yours isn’t what it used to be. You threw a better punch about a decade ago. Getting old and soft, huh?”
It’s Elliott’s turn to lunge at Revenant, but Bloodhound catches the back of his shirt at the last second. “Elliott, no,” they implore, their voice strained.
The robot’s grating laugh rumbles its way out of his chassis once more. “Awww, how sweet,” he withers. “One of these days you’ll have to tear yourself away from each other, you know. Oh, well. See you both in the ring.”
He stalks away, through the doors of the training hall, and out of sight.
Immediately, Bloodhound sags, pressing their fingers to the large weeping gash torn down their hand and across their forearm. Blood drips down their forearm to their elbow, macabre rivers of red painting their skin. Their hand is already purple, the mottled color of it extending down past their wrist.
“Bloodhound- god- what-”
Elliott is wary to approach them, but his instincts kick in. He grabs them by the shoulders and sits them down on the bench. “Don’t. Move,” he snarls, and he’s surprised by how angry he is. Bloodhound obliges, and Elliott is just barely able to start seeing how much pain they’re in.
“What the hell were you thinking? And what the hell just happened?” Elliott gasps, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. He knows the training hall has a whole cabinet full of downgraded med kits and bandages, so he practically sprints over to it and rifles through it.
“Elliott, please, I-”
“You’re a hell of a lot smarter than me, so why would you just haul off and punch him in the face? There’s no way any of us skinsuits could do a damn thing to him outside the arena, you know that!” His emotions are running high, but he doesn’t care. “Also, I don’t need you to stand in front of me and protect me like I’m some kid. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. And why was he talking to you like he knew you?” He locates some alcohol wipes, a bandage, and a med kit, noting with displeasure that it’s less than half the strength of the arena packs, but he has no other choice. “And who the hell is Luka?” He returns to Bloodhound’s side and gingerly grabs their arm.
“One question at a time, Elliott, please,” they implore through gritted teeth. He fully expects them to retreat, to pull away and insist they’re fine, but the pain of the injury seems to have immobilized them. Elliott presses a wipe to their skin, and it soaks up the blood immediately. They hiss in pain, and Elliott’s insides feel frozen in a horrible cocktail of anger and worry.
“Okay, fine,” he sighs as he cleans them up. “L-Let’s just start with this. Why did it seem like Revenant knew you? Not you, I mean… the real you.”
“Because he does,” they murmur. “I knew Revenant before the Games, but he was not aware of that.” Elliott stops dabbing up the blood, and meets their shell-shocked eyes. “Until tonight.”
He pauses. “W…What do you mean?”
Bloodhound’s eyes get glassy, and Elliott puts a hand on their shoulder to steady them. Their other hand covers Elliott’s, and thrill goes down his spine. They take a deep breath, and Elliott takes the opportunity to inject the syringe from the med kit. They hiss once more, and their grip on his hand becomes painful for a moment. But the medicine begins to work, and Elliott can see the bones shifting back into place.
The purple hue does not disappear completely, but the gash gradually closes, leaving a shiny, pink scar where it used to be. Bloodhound stares at their hand and watches it mend itself. “I… before the Games, I was…” They pause for a moment, and try flexing their hand. They wince, but their fingers move slowly. Elliott knows their hand is not fully healed, but hopefully they’ll be able to get proper meds from the med bay tomorrow. He sits next to them, and he notices their good hand remains in contact with him while he winds the bandage around their bad one.
They take a deep breath. “Before the Games, I was… not a good person, Elliott.” Their mouth pinches into a thin line, and they do not meet his anxious eyes. “I have made many, many mistakes in this life. Ones that I cannot rectify.”
Elliott is silent, at first. He’s known for a while that Bloodhound’s past is dark and fraught with trauma, but just how fraught is yet a mystery. Maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s the kiss they shared, he doesn’t know- but he does know that whatever the reason is for their loose tongue, he will listen openly.
“Like… what?”
Bloodhound is silent for a moment now. Then, “I was a… b-bounty hunter. Like the andskoti.”
The dissonance in his head is immediate. It feels like someone has driven a knife right through the tissue connecting the two sides of his brain. Bloodhound? Bounty hunter? He drops his hands to his lap, done with securing their bandage.
“When I left home, I was… aimless. I did not know who I was, or what I wanted from this life. I was… not sure I wanted to live it.” They hang their head, and massage the purple skin of their hand. “After some events… transpired, I found myself hunting down certain people for a high profile client. In my heart, I did not want to kill these people, but… I did not have a choice. I was… bound by something I cannot explain.” Bloodhound’s voice breaks at the end, and Elliott doesn’t know which kind of pain it’s from.
“Okay,” Elliott says slowly. “But… what about Gaea? And Luka? Why does he know your name, and I d-” He breaks off the end of that question before it exits his mouth. “H-how… how are you alive?” Elliott hesitates, then grabs their other hand, drawing their fingers away from their purple skin.
Bloodhound sighs. “You and your endless questions,” they murmur, a ghost of a smile coming to their face. They relax into his grip and meet his eyes for just a moment. “I had an assignment ten years ago that took me to Gaea. It was very difficult, very… complicated. My client wished for me to avenge a colleague of theirs.” They look down at their hand entwined with his, and a dark shade comes across their face. “There are eyes everywhere there, and Revenant was one of them.”
“Or, you know, two of them,” Elliott says before he can stop himself, and a weird flash of humor and shame grips his stomach.
Bloodhound shoots him an exasperated glare, but the corner of their mouth quirks up. “Yes, two of them. You know what I meant.” They shake their head a little, then continue. “He was assigned to… eliminate me. And he very nearly succeeded.” Their injured hand goes to their chest, and absentmindedly rubs the center of it.
Elliott’s mind whirls. He feels a million miles away and much too close, all at once. Minutes ago, Bloodhound was kissing him roughly against the wall, and he was wondering if it would lead to something… more, and now? Now they’ve just spilled the biggest secret he’s ever heard from them, and he has absolutely no idea what to say. He has no idea how to make it better, how to soothe their wounds. Both physical and emotional.
“Elliott?”
“Hmm?”
“You are uncharacteristically quiet.”
“Sorry, I just… It’s a lot,” he admits. “I wish I knew what to say, but… How are you even alive? That thing he said, ab-about… watching the light go out of your eyes.” He hesitates. “The way he said it sounded like he was sure. How could he be sure, and how could you still be here? I know he lies all the time, but come on, that sounded p-pretty convincing. And he remembers how you punch?” He’s babbling his thoughts out loud now, and he shuts up before anything else pops out. “And don’t give me th-that thing, that, ‘story for another time’ stuff again.” Whoops.
Bloodhound pulls their hand out of his grip and buries their face in it. “Elliott, I… I do not know.”
“Oh, come on, that’s worse than-”
“It is true,” they say firmly. He looks over to them, and they are glaring daggers. “I have no recollection of how I survived. And no matter how much you press, I will not magically remember, Elliott.” They break his gaze once more and take a few moments to retie their hair. For the first time, he sees how truly tired they are. Exhaustion presses at every limb, and he’s sure their injury isn’t helping.
“Sorry, sorry.” He can’t resist one more question slipping from his mouth. “Okay, sorry, Luka? Really? The murderbot knows your name and I don’t? Oh, god,” he realizes, remembering the stipulations they had given them. “He’s not family, is he? Oh my god, there’s no way you guys were-”
“Guði fyrir ofan, Elliott, no!” Bloodhound nearly yells, blessedly on the edge of laughter rather than anger. “Gods, no.” They rub their face with their hands, wiping away the sweat on their brow. “Luka is not my given name. It was a name I used while undercover. I told you I had not spoken my given name aloud in many years, and I was not lying.” They meet his eyes and give a half-hearted smile. “And I will not lie to you, in the future, Elliott.”
It still surprises him to see them so openly expressive; the mask has been a barrier between them for so long that they almost feel like a new person now. He wonders who they had been, before the darkness, before the scars. Their parents were both scientists… would they have worked together? Would he and Bloodhound have known each other? Would they have been friends?
“Thank you, Bloodhound,” he mutters. “Sorry, another question. Why did you keep… protecting me when Revenant was here? I know he’s an asshole, but…” He does not finish.
Bloodhound sighs. “I am sorry. I was…” Their cheeks color, and Elliott raises an eyebrow. “Seeing him here, outside the ring- it reminded me of what he did all those years ago. And I do not want him to do the same to you, Elliott, because I c-” Their eyes go wide, and they look away.
And for once, Elliott keeps his mouth shut.
He can feel himself staring as his mind works, and he shifts his eyes. It strikes him that this is Bloodhound. He knows them. Their past may be dark and murky, but he’s pretty sure they’re much more normal than the rumors give them credit for. They’re not some savage beast, hellbent on revenge and bloodshed and hatred. They’re not a terrifying creature of anger and rage. They’re just as human as he is, and a… handsome one at that. Real damn handsome. And they certainly feel… something about him, right?
He resists the urge to point out they missed a strand while tying up their hair. Bloodhound doesn’t give as much of a damn about their hair as you do, Elliott, he thinks. Thinking about hair makes him realize how late it really is (it takes at least an hour to get his lovely mop looking presentable in the morning) and he blows out a breath between his teeth. “Look, it’s really late. I think we could both use some rest, and you should probably get cleaned up a little better. And, you know, the dropship leaves at nine for Solace. That’s in…” He checks his watch and swears. “Five hours.” Then, before he can lose his nerve, he asks slowly, “Can I… walk you home?”
Bloodhound looks up, and they’re clearly a little surprised. “...I suppose,” they say finally, and it may not be a quick victory, but it’s one he’ll take. He holds up their respirator and they press it to their face and clip it around their neck. They pull out a pair of circular, tinted glasses from their bag and slip them on. They strike quite the intimidating figure with their fire-red hair and obscured eyes, and Elliott quickly looks away as his cheeks color.
“Let’s go,” he says softly, and they both exit the training hall.
-----
Whew! It's so good to be back. I was back at college from January to the end of April and it was honestly wonderful! I made some incredible friends, strengthened old friendships, and felt so loved. I even got to perform in a musical! My life has been really, really good the past few months, and I'm so happy. I've worked really hard over the past year and I'm so glad to be in the place I am now. Thanks for reading, even though it always takes so long between chapters. This story is gonna be told if it takes me years to finish it. I can't believe I started it back in September of 2020. That feels like lifetimes away, now that it's May 2022. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are so loved and appreciated. <3
#apex#apex legends#bloodhound apex#miragehound#miragehound fanfiction#elliott witt apex#bloodhound apex legends#elliott witt apex legends#mirage#mirage apex#mirage apex legends#my writing#pride month#lgbtq+ fanfiction
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
my beloved friend kaaju @icemaiden tagged me some time ago— challenging me to post my favourite books i’ve read in the first six months of 2022 ! thank you so much for thinking of me, friend ❣️
remembering what i’ve been reading was a little difficult, so i picked my journal up in order to find the titles in my entries — i write down all i read or watch in it —, and it turns out what i’ve mostly been reading for the first half of the year is fanfiction and webcomics :/ although i’ve actually started a couple of really good non-fiction during this time as well, i’ve kind of abandoned them.......
so, yeah, not much has been read in this first half of 2022... but there are still some things i can confidently list :
• first of all, i have been re-reading the first volumes of witch hat atelier, by kamome shirahama. and i still love this manga so much... the worldbuilding is just so rich and great, the diversity in character designs impeccable, and the MAGIC !! the CREATURES !! the artstyle!! it’s a pleasure for the eyes. every time i pick up a volume of this manga series, i swear it scratches a spot in my brain that makes me want to draw :’-)
• secondly, another reread: comment devenir une rock star (ou pas) by anne percin, a novel about a guy named maxime who is trying to form a music band— however, shenanigans ensue, and... argh, i cannot really say much more about the story, because summarizing it and explaining the chaos the main character always puts himself into without spoiling too much is. Difficult but... yeah. still is one of my beloved favorite books (i also got to meet the author at a book fair and a signed copy👉🏻👈🏻).
it’s actually the third book of a series, that i reread on its own one time when i was feeling overwhelmed by all i had left unfinished or wanted to read. i wouldn’t recommend to everyone — it’s YA with a lot of comedy, references to music, french slang and popular culture and i get that it might not be my followers’ cup of tea. but if you’re still curious: in my opinion, it’s genuinely well-written, actually funny (although i have criticism about some stuff) and i love the characters very much. so, if you can read french and are intrigued, i say that you should give it at least a try :}
(fun fact: it has not been translated into english (yet?), but i know that it’s been published in other european countries and is apparently kinda popular in hungary ??)
• during a trip i’ve made to southern france to visit my grandparents, i got to buy the first volume of sasaki and miyano (and rapidly bought the second one in another bookstore back home). this manga was genuinely a lovely read, although i can’t remember much about it on the top of my head (thanks, foggy covid brain and the elections that literally followed my return from this trip and completely monopolized my thoughts) T-T i do recall it was cute and i liked it a lot, and i need to watch the anime soon !
• during that same trip, i also read a short essay in french (that is, as far as i know, not available in english) : qui annule quoi ?, by laure murat. it was about cancel culture, politics, colonialism and dynamics of oppression. it basically asks the question: who cancels what? what is the real cancel culture ? (spoiler alert, it is not ‘woke ideology’). to summarize it, i’d say it dissects the roots of reactionary politics, and proposes alternatives.
• si nous étions adultes... (<- title of th french translation, which is the one i read), by takako shimura : another work from the author of hourou musuko/wandering son (one of my favorite manga). it tells the love story between two adult women, one of them already married to a man when she meets the other.
• autour d’elles (ohana orohoro), by shino torino — another manga, another adult wlw story ! the art style and the vibes of the story remind me A LOT of chica umino’s work (honey and clover, march comes in like a lion), and it apparently is not a coincidence, as umino’s name appears in the ‘thanks’ section at the end of each volume 👁👁 i want to find more info about the extent of her influence on the author SO BAD, it seems she’s a huge source of inspiration.
• la rose la plus rouge (the reddest rose), by liv strömquist, an essay in the form of a graphic novel, which i could argue is about amatonormativity, but most specifically about the ways romantic and/or sexual relationships are formed in our late-stage capitalist times, and like. it adresses things like the consumerist aspect of dating apps, for example. very interesting
• the last chapters of noragami, by adachitoka. lots of pain :’)
things i have also read in this period but have not finished (yet) :
• the tower of nero, the fifth book of the trials of apollo by rick riordan.
• rené girard’s mimetic theory, by wolfgang palaver, started after getting into mimesis thanks to my friend @catilinas
• invisible women, by caroline criado perez. i really need to resume that one and. take notes because there is so much information in this book !! it basically talks about how the world (infrastructures, products, etc...) is thought/built for able-bodied cisgender white men and is too often not accommodated for women, especially the most marginalized ones, hencz the title ‘invisible women’. the author uses a very scientific method, showing data and research to back up her arguments.
feel free to ask me anything about these book and/or let me know your thoughts if you’ve read some of them, too ! 💗
tagging @catilinas @thesungod @engulfes @pleasehurryleaveme @seavoice @mansolidgone and @darkvictories 📚
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
*Curiously skims the end of a long fanfic I’d actually stopped reading regularly a long time ago.* Okay, read the last two chapters, with a big gap from where I’d last let off as I lost track of the massive thing.
The ending on the half-read fic kind of reminds me a bit of the ending / gist of a completely different fanfic I read all the way through, a different AU that I really liked a lot. It also reminds me of some oneshots I recall encountering having some of the same single trend among “modern” Entrapdak-fics - the trend being a hard look / harsh handling of Catra and going with non-Catradora and “Catra is alone” (with new, unnamed friends, perhaps, but no pairing and not ending with her being with the main cast).
My own stories... it seems like Catra is just kind of... there? I have done a few short fics / oneshots with a focus on her, and it’s fun to try to get inside her head, but I don’t think I’ve incorporated her heavily into anything that was fairly long / multichaptered. Early on, I liked writing Entrapta-focused stuff, then got into Hordak-focused stuff, mostly non-romantic. I used to see a lot of stuff by others which had both Catradora and Entrapdak in them seamlessly, even if one pair was focused on more than the other. And...cute double-date comics and such. Earlier fandom, pre Season 5 and just post Season 5′s original airdates.
It seems like more recently, in the last year or so, I run into more stories on the Entrapdak end of things that has Catradora breakup and “Catra is held accountable” vs. Hordak being reconciled. They’re never particularly vengeful, they aren’t written as hatefics or anything, there is always a vibe that Catra will go off and eventually heal - a sort of “Catra doesn’t get the girl, she gets therapy” thing to them. Or prison - with therapy - or just wanders off and is never seen again, as the case may be. Still pretty hard, though.
I understand these stories as filling a need for authors and readers, those who think that some of Spop’s arcs were handled poorly at the end and maybe especially for people who feel like they’ve “had a Catra” in their lives (negative connotation). At the same time, I find some of this bent in fanfiction a little jarring?
What I mean by this is... I honestly wonder how many Entrapdak-subfandom fans are also fans of Bojack Horseman because I get a lot of Bojack-vibes from some of the more serious-bent / darker than canon fanfiction of recent vintage. Particularly, it feels like, in some works, Adora essentially gives Catra the speech that Herb Kazazz gives Bojack regarding the nature of (un)forgiveness. It is not that it doesn’t have it’s place, but it feels a little weird sometimes when paired with something which has a canon of “The Power of Love Saves All.”
I am by no means telling anyone how to write their fanfiction. Prime knows that I write the darkest, bloodiest, weirdest shit sometimes for bright and sparkly canons, She-Ra included and I do like to read a variety of fanfiction... I’m just noticing something I’ve seen a lot.
Maybe I’m missing some of the lighthearted “double date” stuff.
#spop#hordak#entrapta#catra#adora#entrapdak#catradora#fanfiction#spop fanfiction#writing about fanfiction writing#fandom
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey wassup
What do you think of Yours for an Hour drama cd. You can buy it in Japanese stores and online. There is even an english translation. It was made years ago
It's a Boyslove genre story cd staring the Japanese actors for Naruto and Sasuke living together. The characters on the art look just like Naruto and Sasuke ..and the character lookalikes are the same voice actors.
Also look at the surgeon.She has green eyes like Sakura and has pinkish reddish brown hair...Sakura hair is pink. And she is doctor like Sakura
Also there's a girl with glasses that doesn't look quite like Karin but reminds me of Karin because Karin wears classes. And look at her description...she is an Aki(Sasuke lookalike) groupie. Karin was thirsty for Sasuke if i recall.
Also the two main guys characters played by Naruto and Sasuke voice actors sound just like Naruto and Sasuke ..they didn't alter their voice.
I don't consider it official Naruto material but it's interesting...very interesting that they decided to make it..especially since alot the fandom says their brothers 😏
I heard about this before but never got access to this CD. And then very recently I got to know that it was inspired from this fanfiction named 'Yours for an Hour' and was made into an Audio Drama.
I also got to know that Junko refused to do the Voice Acting (VA) for that Boruto Gremlin, right after the release of Chapter 700 (even though, during Road to Ninja, she said she wanted to do VA for Naruto's son, if he ever had one... Don't know how much of this was true)....
Whereas she was okay doing VA for a CD where N and S were portrayed as a couple.
Excuse me???
Currently, Naruto fandom has only shippers who are spamming every spaces they have access to. I was taking part in a casual SasuKarin discussion and a rabid SS moron came out of nowhere pulling out that same old 'Planned from the beginning' bullshit.
So, these Shippers & Dudebros claiming N and S as Brothers don't affect me at all, in these days. Because Itachi and Sasuke are brothers. But if someone ships them, I just simply ignore those contents, you know. I wont be getting triggered to the point where I go and preach my ‘morality’ agenda. However, when someone ships N and S (even as a joke), they get overtly insecure and quickly term them as ‘Brothers’ and shove it down in our throats.
I mean, they could easily just ignore us, Right?
So what gives???
They know something’s very intense between them... But They just couldn’t accept it.
If they ever see the old Naruto Forum's discussion or any dudebro casually making gay jokes about N and S in Instagram or Youtube... You will see some SS getting suddenly possessed by ‘Sakura’ and frothing at the mouth in the comments... LOL, their level of insecurity🤡🤡🤡
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: coward :: warm saki for the cold nights
Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu
Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au]
Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion
Synopsis: Atsumu deals with heartbreak again and while doing so, receives an unexpected call that may just help bridge you two again.
notes:
someone said that my character for atsumu was differently written from most fanfiction. tbh the only fuckboy i see in haikyuu is Yuuji HASHHSSHAHA have u seen the piercing and how agressive he is. that def screams fuck boi
also i will be closing the taglist already after this chapter :/ if you guys don’t want to be tagged in the side stories, just message me hehe its not a problem (also i will be updating the side stories every FRIDAY’S) the drabble requests will be open for ten drabbles after the side stories hehe ily all so much. stay safe and i hope you enjoy this chapter!
previous next masterlist
Atsumu watches you walk out of his life again for the second time.
He doesn’t know what to do or why he’s here on his bed, playing with the silver ring band that he was supposed to give you six years ago after he’d been accepted in the jackals. As much as he was heartbroken by the fact that you didn’t want to get married then, he still wanted to give you a simple ring band as a promise that marriage was never the only way to get him to stick around you.
He couldn’t throw it away even after all these years.
Now that he looks at it, he’s reminded of that time you left him. The first time.
He really thought it would hurt less this time around. It was the second time after all but it still stings especially now since it was right at his face. He lets out a bitter chuckle, ‘selfish, huh?’ he thought.
Those words were odd coming from you.
In the two year span of your relationship, you were never the selfish one. In fact, he came to the late realization that he was the selfish one between you two in the relationship. Atsumu always thought physical and loud declarations of affection were the key to a healthy relationship, mundane things like sleeping next to each other or being there everyday (hence why long distance relationships were a no go for him) but you, you took it up the notch.
It may have been your first relationship but you were better than any girl he had dated. He realized then that maybe that's why you broke up with him, because you probably thought that he didn’t care to know more about you (when in actuality he was just too scared to ask because he might lose you if he did)
The phone starts to ring and as much as he wants to ignore it again, something tells him that he should answer this unknown contact.
“...Yo, this is Daiki.”
He blinks as he hears the deep voice of the basketball player, wasn’t this supposed to be his rival? How the hell did he even get his number?
“I heard Y/N pushed you away again like before, want to grab that drink?”
Atsumu doesn’t know why he agrees right after.
They ended up at a private japanese bar, apparently they had the best saki in the whole of japan and Daiki was willing to treat him despite the high price of alcohol because of what happened between you two, “You look like shit, man.” he points out as soon as he arrived, “No offense. Then again, that’s what I looked like when Y/N first rejected me.”
Atsumu sits across him at the booth and ignores the man’s statement about his looks, “Do you still like Y/N that way? Even after she rejected you a lot?” he asks, suddenly.
“After I realized how much she liked those kid’s father. I sorta gave up.” He laughed as if it was nothing, “He was hard to match, Y/N was begging me not to go to him to punch him in the face, she was in tears that night.”
“He’s a lucky bastard.” Atsumu spat bitterly, pouring more sake on his cup, “I’m guessing you know this guy?”
“Of course I do.” Daiki began, “Only recently though, Y/N never told anyone who the dad was. I had to figure that shit out on my own.”
Atsumu stares at his drink for a moment and swirls it around, he wants to know but at the same time he doesn’t. What would he even do if he knew? Would he find him and punch the asshole in the face for doing that to you? He’s starting to get Daiki, whoever this guy was, he was impossibly hard to match.
“I want to be in her life.” Atsumu confessed, “I want to replace that bastard’s place.”
Daiki’s eyes crinkle in utter amusement, just how long was this cat and mouse game going to play? What would happen if he told this blonde guy? Would you talk to him after he told Atsumu why you left? Would Daiki even be able to handle you leaving him?
Daiki’s take a deep breath as he ponders on that thought. He was willing to risk it though. He sees the genuineness in this guy’s eyes. From a man to a man, he could sense it. God, if only he had been a bit more pushy towards you back then about the whole tell-your-boyfriend thing, maybe you’d have it a bit easier now.
“What’s stopping you?”
“Y/N.” The blonde shrugs, the mere mention of your name stinged like the alcohol he was drinking, “I can’t force her. I can’t repeat the same mistakes I made before. Relationships were never her strongest suit and I feel like I forced it on her.”
“You didn’t.” Daiki proclaims, the basketball player ponders for a moment in deep thought, “The thing about Y/N is that she’s careful with whom she wants to be intimate with. The reason why she probably said yes was because she saw something in you but in the end…” Daiki paused, he’s not sure what to say next, this was a sensitive issue after all, “In the end, her fear got the better of her…”
“Sometimes I wish I could take it all away.” The setter quietly confessed, recalling the fear in your eyes back then made him sick.
In the two-year relationship you had, it had always been about him. He really had the audacity to proudly proclaim that he loved you yet it seemed more like you had loved him more.
It showed when you’d quietly just hold his hand and draw small circles on it after a loss, how you’d listen to his stories without interruptions, how you’d help him out in classes that he had a hard time at, how you’d prepare a hot meal for him every night he stayed up later to train, and how you’d silently just let him snuggle on your chest after a long day. It was those little things, things he realized later on that you’d never do to other people but he was a special case.
It was always about you taking care of him and putting him first.
It wasn’t openly affectionate like the girls he had before or after you, you had your own little way.
It was always about wanting to get a physical reaction from you, he was too blinded to the fact that it was never your type of thing.
He was the taker in the relationship, you had always been the giver.
Daiki was silent once again as he observed his devastating figure, “You really love her, don’t you?”
“I do.” he chuckled, “People tend to call me a fuck up for that but they don’t get it. When Y/N shows a little side of her, you...you can’t stop loving her, ya know? God, when she smiled and laughed at me for the first time. I knew at that moment that I wanted to hear that beautiful sound for the rest of my life.”
It felt good to get that out of his chest for once, ‘samu would call him a sappy piece of shit if he had heard that but it was the raw truth. Every word he said, every feeling he tried to express, it was all so genuine and that’s what made everything so painful.
God, the saki was getting to him. He can’t believe he told Daiki out of all people about this.
“You said you wanted to know who the father of those kids was, right?”
Atsumu stops whatever he’s drinking and feels his ears perk up at the sound of that. Daiki looks dead serious as he downs the saki straight-up, the next few words sobers the blonde setter because it’s not what he expects.
“Y/N told me the father was her first boyfriend, a boy from tokyo university.”
Atsumu feels his heart thumping fast as he makes his way to your apartment in the dead of the night, the alcohol long gone but the words of Daiki still stinging and fresh, a father? Was that why you ran away?
Because you were pregnant with his kids?
He curses underneath his breath as he finally parks his car in front of your apartment, he’s still shaken by the sudden revelation and he feels like kicking himself, how he could’ve been so stupid? He should’ve known something was odd when you suddenly disappeared and broke up on the phone.
While he was enjoying his life as a pro, you were out there fending for the kids alone.
He shakes his head.
“...I can’t tell you why Y/N ran away, it’s better if you heard the story from her.” Daiki’s words echo in his head, “I know she placed a lot on your plate these past six years but she has her reasons, I’m not saying that you should forgive her immediately. I’m just asking you to listen.”
Atsumu gets out of his car and takes out his phone, calling the number he got from Daiki. You had never exchanged numbers even after all that had happened. Now that he noticed, you were keen on distancing yourself from him. Ever since the beginning, you were so adamant to push him out of your life in the same cold way like before.
How could he not have noticed?
He curses himself in his head, for all the times he had to be slow, why now?
“Hello?” Your voice is groggy, signaling that you were asleep, “May I know who's on the line?”
“I’m downstairs.” he blurted out, not knowing what to say, he knows you recognize his voice, “Can we talk Y/N?”
“Miya-san? What are you?- It’s almost twelve-”
“One last time, Y/N.” He pleads, voice soft as he says your name, “Please?”
You hang up soon after, he doesn’t care if he has to stake out here in his car for the whole night and wait for you to come down in the morning. Right now, all that matters is you.
Only you.
Thankfully, he doesn’t need to do that since he sees you going out of your apartment a few moments later in a large black coat with mismatched socks, if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, he would’ve teased you for your unusual get-up.
“I thought I told you that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.” in contrast to your soft tone, your words are harsh and if it were the old him, he’d have back down but he knows something now.
He takes in a deep breath and lets out a drawling sigh as he removes his scarf, “It’s cold tonight.” He observes, ignoring the harsh words you said as he inches closer to you to wrap his scarf around your neck.
“You smell like alcohol.”
“Aomine-san and I went out for a drink.” He recounts, tying the scarf on your neck. He sucks in a deep breath before he says the following words, “You know Y/N, you never told me his name.”
“Excuse me?” You're confused by the sudden words as you try to remove the scarf but he stops you and grabs a hold of your hands instead, clasping his fingers on yours like the old times. He loved the warmth you radiated. It always felt nice.
“The name of that bastard who left you.” He stated. He’s so close to you to the point that you could smell the saki and perfume on him, hear his ragged breathing, and hear the thumping of his heart. You try to remove yourself from his grasp but you’re trapped in his stare and tight hold, “What’s his name, Y/N?”
“I told you, it’s none-”
“Just a name, Y/N.”
Silence ensued between you two and you nervously gulp down.
So it really was him.
This was now or never.
“Just for one moment, can you stop running away from me?” he begs, as he inched closer to hug you and place his head on your shoulder, “Just stop running, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me what happened and why you ran away back then, just let me love you now and be a father to those kids.”
It's silent for a moment and he feels fear engulf him again, his confidence slowly vanishing. Were you going to push him away again?
Yet he feels you starting to tremble on his hold and something wet on his shoulders, he suddenly stands up straight to find you crying on his shoulder, “You’re so fucking stupid, did you know that?” you suddenly cried, “I literally broke up with you on the fucking phone, ran away from you-”
“Yet you never forgot me and raised those kids very well on your own.” He hummed, cutting you off as he rested his head on top of yours, still hugging you tightly. Yes, this was right, the warmth that he wanted was right here, he was finally at ease.His anxiety was slowly dwindling, “God, I should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way before.”
“I-It’s my fault.” You stammered, “I kept doubting you and kept running from you.”
“You must’ve been scared, sweetheart.” He murmured, cutting you off as he ignores you recounting your past ‘mistakes’ --- he wouldn’t call it mistakes though, they were the seeds of doubt that he planted on you, so he was technically at fault there, he should’ve tried harder to not make you feel that way. He should’ve been more observant ---- He buries himself on your scent and draws small circles on your back to soothe your shaking figure. You’d do this to him a lot before, it was his turn now to return all the comfort and support you gave him.
Atsumu slowly lets go and sees you’re a mess in front of him from the red rims under your eyes to the wet cheeks to your non-stop shaking figure.
‘...You always had trouble expressing yourself naturally to people after all.’
No, it seemed like you had turned it off towards other people except your kids. Atsumu noted how strong you were towards your kids, how you tried hard to build a home for them and be the most genuine mother you could be, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to help and support you.
He slowly brings his hands up and softly cups your cheeks to wipe the stray tears, “I know that I can’t take all your problems and baggage away for a night but I’ll be here, Y/N. I’ll be here even if you’re annoyed, I’ll be here even if you throw me out because of the confusion you have with your feelings. I’ll stay. Permanently, no take-backs.”
You shakily lift your hands to grab a hold of his rough hands and squeeze it to make sure this is all real, that this wasn’t a dream.
“You’re an idiot.” You sniffle, taking in his warmth and basking on it, “I really told you to be selfish, for once. Why can’t you do that?”
“That’s ironic coming from you.” he mused, “You were always the giver in our relationship in your own way, you raised our kids in the best way possible. I could think of a million ways that you were the giver in our relationship and I was more of the receiver.” Atsumu chuckles at the irony as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair. He feels better now that everything is out of the way, that he can finally hold you with no restrictions. The little family with you that was supposed to be a fleeting moment, was now slowly becoming a reality.
“In the end, all that matters is that I love you. It’s never changed for the past six years, Y/N. I doubt it’ll change in the long run.” he confessed, leaning in to give you a brief kiss on the temple. You feel yourself start to calm down as you rested on his chest and listen to his heart beat.
You missed that sound, the sound of home.
It takes a while for you to actually settle down and sit with your kids, Atsumu reminds you that you could take your time in the introductions, even volunteering that he could help you with it but you decided against it in the end. This was your responsibility. You still had to make up for the past six years of heartbreak you gave to the poor man and your kids.
Atsumu doesn’t shy away though, he comes by after his morning training during your lunch break to have lunch with you and even volunteers to pick up the kids after class before his nightly training.
Slow pace and baby steps as he’d like to call it.
“Jiji’s acting weird.” Yuuto frowns as he picks on his fish with his chopsticks, “He’s been hanging around us too much, kaasan.”
“Yeah!” Youta echoes, “Is he going to be like Daiki-ojisan? Is he going to be our ojisan?”
You place your chopsticks down and stare at the pair in front of you. It would be hard to explain to the pair about Atsumu and his relationship with them, you almost wanted to call the man himself to help you explain but you decided against it.
This was now or never.
“Can kaasan tell you something?” You softly ask, placing your chopsticks down, the steamed fish long forgotten.
“What is it, kaasan?” Youta asks innocently, tilting his head just a bit, “Did jiji do something again? Should me and yu do something about it?”
“No,” you shake your head, “It’s...It’s about your otosan…”
Silence enveloped the table, the boys never talked about their father in front of you because they noticed how sad you’d be by the mere mention of their father yet that didn’t stop them from asking around your close circle of friends like Atsumu and Daiki. Did you find out about their interest? Were they going to be scolded?
“I...I want to introduce him to you…” You slowly began, “he...he’s come home…”
Youta and Yuuto’s eyes widen immediately, “He? He has?” Yuuto suddenly exclaimed, standing up from his chair. You could detect the excitement in his eyes, “What does he look like, kaasan? Does he have the same hair as us? Does he look like us? Did- did he get all his dreams?”
“Is he a doctor, kaasan? Or does he play sports like Daiki-ojisan and jiji?” Youta adds, wondering out loud, “Weird. We’re not that famous yet, kaasan. Is he going to be proud of us?”
You feel your heart thump and your eyes water at the question as you swallow the lump on your throat, “He’s, he’s very proud of you.” you try to blink away the tears, “In fact, your otosan was very scared because you might hate him.”
“Is that why he wasn’t able to come home?” Yuuto asks quietly, he had always been smart for his age.
You were silent for a moment and you take in a very deep breath, when they were old enough you’d tell them all about what happened, in the meantime, you’d tell them a simple explanation, “No, it was kaasan’s fault...Your otosan wasn’t able to come home because of kaasan…”
“Will...will you tell us why, kaasan?” Youta questions, you could tell that he was scared to ask that question.
“Because kaasan was scared…” You paused, trying to find the right words to explain to them, “Kaasan had you when me and your otosan was still quite young so kaasan ran away…”
“Did o-otosan not want us then?” Yuuto quivers, his lifted spirits now down, you could tell that he was trying to hold it in. You immediately had to stand up and rush to their side to comfort them, “Of course not!” You exclaimed, taking their hands and bending to their level, “It’s just, kaasan had very bad things happening around her that she had to run away.”
“Are...are the bad things gone now then, kaasan?”
You turn to Youta whose eyes were soft and spirits down too, he seemed to have grasped the situation yet at the same time, he couldn’t get it. Maybe it was a big kids type of thing? Would he understand this all when he was older?
“Almost…” You quietly replied, you knew you still had a lot of things to fix within yourself like Atsumu had said, it’s not something you can ever get rid of but it’s never bad to take a helping hand once in a while, “Your otosan is helping me and you guys are helping me too, so they’re slowly disappearing…”
“When...when will we meet him? Our otosan?”
You’re silent for a second and you nervously tell them to wait a moment as you go to your room to take out a Polaroid, one with you and Atsumu in it. It’s an old one, taken on your last anniversary. It’s one of those memorabilia's you kept of him that you could never throw away.
You come back to the table and sit across them as you place the picture in front of them, “You’ve met him already…”
Youta’s eyes widen, “Isn’t this…”
“Jiji?” Yuuto finishes, jaw slacken.
You couldn’t tell if they were happy or disappointed at all. Their faces were bare stripped of emotion, the only thing you detected was shock.
“It was never your otosan’s fault, I…” You shakily sighed, holding in the tears, “It was mine, I’m so sorry…I’m so so sorry…”
At that moment, you really didn’t know how you should face them or how you should explain it to them, you were so caught up in your fears and anxiety that you didn’t notice how soft their features became, “Will you tell us?” Youta asks.
You look them both in the eye.
“Will you tell us why where we’re older, kaasan?” Yuuto adds.
Your shaking ceased when you heard those words.
Ah yes, they were their father’s kids. Always so patient, always there to listen to you. How were you blessed with such good kids? You broke down a smile reserved just for them.
“Yes, when you’re ready and older.” You affirmed, bowing down in apology, “I hope you’ll be patient with me then.”
taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm]
@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx
@itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget
@seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ;
@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi
@brownie0food @keijislut @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]
#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu imagine#miya atsumu scenarios#miya atsumu fanfiction#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu#atsumu angst#atsumu fluff#miya atsumu angst#miya atsumu fluff#haikyuu imagines#haikyu!! fanfics#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff
725 notes
·
View notes
Text
Now, I’ve been around fanfiction long enough to know that in any angel-turns-human AU story, there is one question that burns brighter than all the rest: What about their first sick day?
Well, I’ll tell you this: That first year after the rapture, out of the two of them, Adam is actually the first one to get sick. He picks up a really, truly nasty, slowburn of cold about a month after bringing Michael home. And, aware that he had just taken a huge chunk of time off (convincing Sam and Dean to help bring Michael out of the Empty was not an overnight task, nor teaching Jack how to make a new human body from scratch), Adam initially tried to smother the growing ailment with over-the-counter remedies and sheer willpower, while this bug steadily asserted dominance, laying waste to his sinuses, building up pressure inside his head, and settling into his chest and making itself heard in his throat. Three days in, his boss finally sent him home because everyone knew, even if he was refusing to say that he was sick. Michael, of course, was relieved to see Adam finally resign himself to bedrest, even though the entire situation is a sharp reminder of the fact that Michael is no longer a divine being, capable of healing with a touch. He feels all the more useless when Adam, well-meaning but also speaking through a haze of cold medicine and the beginnings of a fever, tells Michael he should keep his distance, because who knows how badly his cold would hit someone with virtually no antibodies.
Adam then passed out for the majority of the day, while Michael proceeded to mope in the living room, feeling like he’d been banished, pretending to have something to do but really just moving things around the room that were perfectly fine as they were before. He’d given up, gone online, and scrolled past the third post on his favorite Supernatural site that he normally would have jumped to correct on their misinterpretation of lore had he not been so preoccupied (never mind that he still hasn’t actually read his father’s books), before it struck him that he does know what to do in this situation.
Adam had shared a lot of memories in the cage, particularly during the years right after Lucifer’s departure, when they were first alone together and Michael was more guarded when it came to participating in conversation. Many of those memories had been from Adam’s childhood that he had deemed “harmless.” And as such, while Michael was new to the practice of being around sickness, Michael actually did know how to take care of someone. At least, he knew how Kate would have taken care of Adam. While never having met Kate Milligan, Michael was aware that she had been very young when she had Adam and that she had raised him alone, that she worked often, and that as Adam got older, it became increasingly difficult for her to take time off from work to care for him when he became ill. But she would do what she could in her off hours.
One of those things was preparing meals in advance that Adam could pick from as needed. Michael wasn’t overly acquainted with cooking at that point, but luckily, Kate hadn’t been either. She would buy premade items from the grocery store and alter them at home. Adam’s favorite had been half and half peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, which had been made by purchasing dough for both confections and simply meshing them together before baking. Oddly, the more difficult item to find was the soup. It was canned, but Kate had stuck to a specific brand, because it had been Adam’s favorite brand during a brief period of pickiness when he was eight. It didn’t appear to be as common in the city where Adam and Michael had settled as it had been in Minnesota during the 90s. Fortunately, Michael had stolen Adam’s phone before going shopping, and a stranger he came across in the greeting cards section at the drug store showed him how to use the map function to locate various stores nearby.
Adam managed to sleep through the racket that ensued from Michael coming home and fumbling his way through what, make no mistake, could only very loosely have been called cooking--Michael managing to unsettle a tower of stacked mixing bowls and burn himself on both the stovetop and interior of the oven--Adam only finally waking up when his nose cleared long enough for the smells to reach him. Michael was standing by, and Adam very quickly found himself being pushed onto his back when he opted to sit up.
“Michael? Get out of here, you’re going to get sick.”
“Not if you don’t breathe on me,” Michael said, quoting a memory from when Adam was nine that he knew wasn’t strictly true, but did not particularly care. He had a jar of Vicks Vaporub in hand and was pulling Adam’s shirt out of the way.
“What’s that smell?”
“Dinner. Hold still.”
“Since when do you cook?”
“Since a half hour ago, hold still.”
Despite twice repeating the instruction, it’s only when Michael straddles Adam that Adam actually lays still. He continues to press for details though, because Adam does recognize the aroma drifting in from the kitchen, and while he doesn’t particularly remember sharing those memories, he isn’t so much surprised that Michael does (Michael’s recall verges on obsessive), as he is by the fact that Michael actually did something with it. In the month since leaving Kansas, Michael only very rarely left their apartment, and never on his own.
Had it not been for the fact that he was determined to wait for Michael to decide when they would be back on those terms, Adam might have forgotten he was contagious and kissed Michael right then.
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I wanted to.”
Michael only looked up from Adam’s chest and noticed the way Adam was looking at him when Adam’s hand settled on top of his. That was, additionally, the moment when it struck Michael he was straddling Adam, and that the last time one of them had done that to the other, one of them hadn’t actually been physically real, and that they hadn’t done what they’d been doing then in a fairly long time. Of course, it hadn’t seemed strange to him to get into this position a second ago, as, in terms of Michael’s projections, they had done a lot more than kiss, and their relationship with one another hadn’t changed at its core since, but in terms of Michael being a physically present being in a body of his own, they hadn’t actually. . .
“Michael?”
“Yes, Adam?”
“I’m pretty sure I smell smoke.”
And then all at once, Michael was scrambling off the bed, the moment hastily pushed aside in his rush to save the cookies (which were burnt, but a benefit of Kate’s “recipe” was that there was plenty of dough leftover for new batches). By the time that Michael came back, Adam had remembered that he was a breathing germ farm and subsequently put his bedroom eyes away, and Michael suggested they relocate to the couch and watch the obnoxious devil show that Adam liked (Lucifer) while they ate.
Of course, despite Adam’s gradually flagging efforts to keep Michael at a distance for the sake of his health, Michael wound up catching the cold and would spend the next two weeks buried under every blanket they owned while Adam returned the favor of taking care of him. Because Adam was right, he had no antibodies, of course he was going to get sick.
#domestic au#midam#this installment is so schmaltzy#i will own that#but you know what i'm travelling and i'm tired and i just wanted to write something really sweet#no shame
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
Four Years To Get There
If you or a loved one remember when I used to write regularly for hypzag/zagnos, you may be entitled to a senior citizen discount-
I didn’t want to post all of my hades stuff, but I think this one is really cute. My fanfiction writing and my original story writing are two different styles, because fanfic is my domain to go crazy go wild.
“So, four years stuck with my brother? I don’t envy you.” Thanatos commented airily as he made coffee.
Zagreus, who had woken up ten minutes prior and was staring morosely at the countertop, looked up when Than started speaking, and frowned. “Hypnos isn’t that bad, Than. He’s actually nice to be around. And he hasn’t made ‘morning person’ into a personality trait, unlike other people.” He smiled after saying this, in a teasing manner aimed in the direction of Than’s back.
Than hmph-ed and said nothing more.
The rest of the morning passed by as usual- Than went to work, Zag went to the gym and to walk Cerberus, Than came back for an early lunch, and the two of them exchanged pleasantries at the junction between their personal schedules- Than half out the door, Zag on his way in. The two of them had been roommates for two years, and had become comfortable with this routine.
Earlier that week, though, Zag had gotten an email saying he’d been chosen to work as a bodyguard for a diplomat headed on a mission to a planet where rumors of attack had been swirling, with instructions on how to get to the port and what to bring. In total, it was meant to last about nine years- four years to get there, a year on the planet, and four years to get back. It was quite the commitment, but he didn’t mind overmuch. It’s not like there was much waiting for him on the planet he lived on currently- just his friends, who assured him they’d text and video call, and his dog, who had already been approved to come with him.
The evening before, Zag had found out the name of the diplomat he was supposed to work for. It was Hypnos! His roommate's twin brother! The two of them weren’t very close, but he was kinda relieved to know there’d be another friendly face on the ship.
After greeting Than on the way in, he began packing, using the sheet he’d been sent. He put music on in the background, and hardly noticed the passing of time, only breaking out of his reverie when Than came to remind him to eat.
A couple days later, he was ready to leave, Cerberus waiting patiently at the door. He gave a quick goodbye to his friends and his father, the former of whom gave promises to contact and the latter of whom just hmm-ed under his breath.
After the ship had taken off, he sat on his bed for a while, taking it all in. He was going somewhere new- how exciting!- but he knew he was going to miss his friends and family.
A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Coming!” He said as he went to get the door.
On the other side of the door stood Hypnos, in full regalia. His departure had been much larger and more public, and Zag hoped that his brothers and mother had shown up. Charon he was almost certain of, and made a mental note to check his social media for pictures Hermes had most likely posted about his “almost-little-brother-in-law leaving us behind!! 😭😭.” Nyx and Than, though, were a little colder, and Than had made no move to leave when Zag had gotten on the ship.
“Hi!” Hypnos chirped, trying not to show the exhaustion he felt. It had been nothing but endless briefings for months prior to this, and the next four years were sure to be a nice, long break before doing it again for a whole year.
“Hi!” Zag replied, feeling slightly awkward in his far less formal tank top and shorts.
Cerberus came up between them and nosed at Hypnos’ cloak.
“Hi to you too!” Hypnos bent down and pet Cerberus to the best of his ability, mentally thanking the powers that be that he was a rather tall Doberman and not a small dog.
Zag knew that Hypnos was his friend and his roommate’s brother, but he still was at a loss of how to act. Hypnos was, for all intents and purposes, his boss now, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d be expected to act accordingly.
Hypnos ended all pretenses of formality by stepping into Zag’s room and quickly shedding all jewelry and reminders of his station, leaving him in a long, elegant dress that crumpled beneath him when he flopped on Zag’s bed.
Hypnos yawned widely, and shifted to where he had a view of Zag still awkwardly standing in the doorway to his own room. Cerberus climbed on the bed next to him, and laid his head on Hypnos’ stomach.
It was a scene which made Zag vaguely want to join in and rest, but he was too wired to do so. Instead, he pulled the chair out from the desk facing the bed, and sat down with the back of the chair pressed to his chest.
“You excited?” Zag asked Hypnos, lightly drumming his fingers against the cool plastic.
Hypnos made a noncommittal noise and seemed to settle into the bed more. “You don’t mind if I nap here, do you?”
Zag shook his head, and Hypnos nodded slightly before falling asleep so quickly it startled Zag. He waited a few minutes before beginning to unpack, trying his hardest to remain quiet so as not to disrupt Hypnos. After dropping an exercise weight rather loudly and realizing that Hypnos hadn’t even stirred, he abandoned all attempts at noiselessness and just began placing things, noise be damned.
He was so wrapped up in it he failed to notice when Hypnos woke up, studied him from behind for a few seconds (it was a nice view! sue him!), then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Zag was in the middle of organizing the desk when his communicator pinged, alerting him that dinner was being served in the cafeteria.
“What time is it?” Hypnos mumbled from the bed.
Zag tilted the communicator to turn the screen on and told him.
Hypnos sighed and sat up, yawning as he stretched. He sat and blinked for a couple of seconds, then said, “We have to go to a special dinner with the other politicians and stuff. After today we’ll be able to go to the cafeteria, though.”
“When does it start?” Zag asked, trying to remember where he’d put his formal clothes.
Hypnos smiled guiltily and responded, “Five minutes ago?”
Zag’s eyes widened and he sprung into action, grabbing his clothes from the drawer and stumbling slightly as he went into the bathroom to change. Hypnos began to reluctantly put his own uniform on. By the time Zag came out, striking quite the figure in the fitted vestments, Hypnos had managed to pull everything on, and was fiddling with the clasp of the cloak.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Zag offered, and went to stand in front of Hypnos, where he reached up slightly and fastened the cloak.
The two stood in front of each other for a couple of seconds, Hypnos mentally preparing himself for human interaction and Zag trying to recall his training. Then, Hypnos sighed and moved around Zag to get to the door, and Zag fell into position beside him.
A week passed with Zag at Hypnos’ side almost constantly (even in sleep, to an extent, as their rooms were next to each other) before Hypnos once again came to his room for a nap. Then, over time, this became a regular occurrence. Hypnos would nap on Zag’s bed almost every day, and when he wasn’t napping, the two of them talked. Zag told Hypnos about growing up with a father who simultaneously ignored and expected everything from his son; his mother, who he had only met again recently, who used to worked as a diplomat but had retired to a small, idyllic, relatively unknown planet; the important people in his life, like his mentor Achilles and his friends. In return, Hypnos told Zag about growing up in a family that seemed to excel at everything; days spent sleeping because he couldn’t disappoint people in his dreams; going to school to learn how to talk to people and accidentally gaining importance. They talked about loneliness and happiness, highs and lows.
It brought them closer together, and as weeks turned to months, Hypnos found himself looking forward to talks with Zagreus. He would wake up, giddy for their next interaction, and anticipate what he might say today. Maybe he’d make a comment about Zag’s haircut or a joke about how Cerberus like him better than Zag. Thinking about Zag made him smile involuntarily, and when the two of them talked, Hypnos sometimes felt his cheeks warm at Zag’s laugh and demeanor.
About four months into their voyage, he realized what this meant.
Oh.
Oh no.
It’s not like he hadn’t talked to Zag before- he did live with his brother- but the close quarters made everything… different. It felt like it was just the two of them, an island floating in a ship of 200 people. Maybe that was it- he just wanted to feel close to only other person on board he interacted with regularly. It couldn’t possibly be like, an actual crush, right? Yeah, no. It wasn’t.
That’s what he told himself, at least.
Zag, on the other hand, was oblivious to Hypnos’ internal struggle. He liked hanging out with Hypnos. They’d gone from acquaintances to best friends quickly, and Zag came to treasure their (many) moments together. He liked the teasing and jokes, and came to find his little yawn-stretches after a good nap rather cute.
He had a crush on Hypnos.
He didn’t try to deny it or push it out of his mind, but he also didn’t really acknowledge it either. Hypnos was funny and adorable and really, really disliked tomatoes but always got an extra helping of pasta or whatever food with tomatoes was being served so he could give it to Zag, who he knew loved tomatoes. Zag couldn’t imagine not having a bit of a crush on Hypnos. He figured most people who met him did, because how could they not? With his unruly curls and dimples he was classic crush material.
So the first year passed.
The second year began with a party, a celebration of “making it one year without any major incidents” (the ship captain’s words). Hypnos and Zag attended, once again in their stuffy formal wear, but ditched halfway through in favor of grabbing any food they could stuff in their pockets and talking in Zag’s room until long after the partygoers had trickled back into their rooms.
With the second year came new responsibilities. Hypnos’ monthly meetings turned into two, and he began to attend refresher courses on the language he’d be expected to use once the ship landed. Zag found himself standing outside rooms more often than not, and poor Cerberus’ walks went from three times a day to two. Their hang out time was cut in half virtually overnight.
So… why did Hypnos’ crush on Zagreus only worsen?
They were both interacting with other people, and he had work to do. Why couldn’t he seem to pry Zag from his mind? He had to focus! But all he could focus on was Zag’s smile, playing on repeat in some sadistic part of his brain, and he wondered idly if someone had invented some sort of “cure” for a crush. Zag was his brother’s roommate! Than probably had a crush on him or something, because there’s no other way he’d let anyone live with him. He’d barely tolerated Hypnos when they’d shared a room as children!
(Than did have a small crush on Zagreus, but was finding out quickly that distance did not, in fact, make the heart fonder.)
Hypnos didn’t sleep a lot at night. Normally, sleep wasn’t a problem for him; he’d always been one to fall asleep easily and deeply. Now, though, his thoughts played on an endless loop, and he only really slept when he was in Zag’s room, surrounded by the noises of Zagreus and Cerberus.
Zag found that his crush on Hypnos was quickly blossoming into something much deeper, and didn’t really mind it. He wondered, idly, if there was a chance of Hypnos feeling the same, but didn’t want to jeopardize the mission (they still had eight more years together!) or their friendship. Besides, there was something beautiful in just the feeling of spending time with someone you l- cared for. Cared for, and he figured it was better to enjoy it.
For a short while, anyway.
It was difficult to deny the dreams he had of holding hands with Hypnos and going on dates (among other, less wholesome things), and he began to wonder more and more often if those dreams had a chance of becoming a reality.
Probably not. Hypnos was busy and important; he probably didn’t think about Zag half as much as Zag thought about him.
Three years came and went, with the budding feelings between the two only deepening. It caused some slight frustration, but neither of them was willing to talk about it, and behind their backs, the rest of the ship began to take bets on when they were going to get together.
It didn’t happen in Year Three, when they were shoved into a closet “on accident” and spent the time talking about the things they had to finish that day.
It didn’t happen in Year Four, when Cerberus got sick and the two of them squished themselves into the same chair with Hypnos’ formal cloak draped on top of them like a blanket. It had been a cute scene, and was trending with #zagnos on social media for an hour before another diplomat had requested it get taken down.
Finally, the day came for them to land. The whole ship was abuzz with people hurrying to and fro in anxious attempts to make sure they and their belongings were ready to depart. They’d been told to leave the bulk of their belongings on the ship, as it was the same one they’d be returning to and they would still have access to it, but this left people unsure as to whether they should over or underpack.
Zag had decided that one backpack would probably be enough, seeing as they’d been told that decorations in the rooms they were to be provided were forbidden. He also had a tote bag with Cerberus’ things packed, and was more or less just waiting for the ship to be cleared to unload.
Hypnos, on the other hand, had three pre-packed, unopened suitcases filled with various clothes of the local fashion (enough to make sure they wouldn’t repeat; the higher-ups wanted to make an impression of their wealth); a bag of cosmetics and hair products (no longer would the unruly mess of curls reign); five briefcases with information he’d studied front to back multiple times during the trip; another duffle bag with sleep clothes; and a bag with all of his electronics.
Zag picked up as much as he could, and the rest was carried by an envoy sent from the local government, leaving Hypnos free to smile and shake hands and generally do the job he’d been sent there to do.
It was a stark difference from the Hypnos Zag had gotten to know, and it shocked him somewhat to see how quickly he’d changed from Hypnos, Zag’s best friend and the guy he’s in love with, to a charming diplomat with a winning smile that anyone would be hard-pressed to dislike.
Zag must’ve been hard-pressed, then, because he found himself disliking this version of Hypnos. There was something… insincere about it. It was all fake, a show put on to help Hypnos do his job better.
Well, he was only here to help Hypnos do his job, right? It wasn’t for him to like or dislike things.
There was to be a party for those who had finally touched down on solid ground, and as Zag changed into a less formal outfit for the event, he heard a knock at the door. He opened it, then frowned, realizing that there was no one there. He turned to go back to getting ready, but not even five seconds later, the knock sounded again. Again, he opened the door, only to find no one there. He went outside and walked around a little, but didn’t see anyone. He went back to his room, where the knocking sounded again, and realized that the knocking was coming from somewhere not the front door.
Five minutes later, he found a shallow dip in the wall, and when he touched it, a smooth voice asked, “Name?”
“Uh, Zagreus?” He answered.
A beep sounded, and the voice once again asked, “Name?”
“Zagreus… Plutonic?” He replied again, questioningly.
A ding sounded, and a portion of the wall swung outward to reveal Hypnos, still in the same outfit he’d been wearing earlier. Hypnos smiled widely at him- that same smile that he wore during their hang out sessions, not the one he wore as a diplomatic mask- but quickly flushed purple.
Zag raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“You’re uh, you-“ Hypnos stammered. “You’re not wearing a shirt, silly!”
Zag looked down and realized Hypnos was right. He smiled as he teased, “And? Do you like what you see?”
Hypnos just giggled, a high-pitched, somewhat frantic noise.
Zagreus put on a shirt as Hypnos moved into the room, sitting daintily on the edge of the bed because his ornate clothing stopped him from doing anything else. Cerberus came up to him and wagged his tail expectantly, and Hypnos reached out and pet his head, making sure to scratch the area behind his ears that he knew he liked.
Zag watched them fondly. He’d always taken it as a good sign that Hypnos and Cerberus got along so well, and had told his mom such. She’d agreed with him, with that bright look in her eyes that hinted she knew more than she let on.
When Zag was ready, the two of them left together, Cerberus asleep on the bed.
At the party itself, the two of them basically stuck to the edges, chatting with other people occasionally. Eventually, an alcoholic drink was thrust into their hands. Zag looked questioningly at Hypnos, who nodded slightly as he put his own drink down. Zag grinned and drank it all down in one gulp, to the cheers of the other partygoers. He began to mingle with the crowd, leaving Hypnos standing awkwardly in the corner. Some other diplomats joined him, and they spent time murmuring about upcoming responsibilities and travel memories.
About an hour later, Hypnos felt a tug on his arm, and looked up to see Zagreus, cheeks flushed, smiling widely as he pulled him to the dancefloor. Hypnos made half-hearted excuses to the other diplomats before turning and anxiously following Zag to the dancefloor, leaving several knowing faces in his wake.
The two of them danced for a while, laughing wildly and holding each other’s hands in turn, high on the music and each other’s company. Eventually, the two of them ended up in a different corner than they’d started off in, smiling widely, faces flushed with exertion.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Hypnos was smiling widely and giggling breathlessly, staring down at Zag. Zag was looking up at him brightly, fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes. Zag pushed up, slightly, onto the tips of his toes. Hypnos leaned down, unconsciously.
Their lips met.
After a second, Hypnos jerked back. Zag was drunk, and Hypnos felt like he was taking advantage of the situation.
He cleared his throat and turned around, mood suddenly soured. “Let’s go back to the rooms, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
Zag wrinkled his nose and slurred, “Nuh I haven’t.”
Hypnos grabbed his arm and led him out anyway, exchanging goodbyes with those who came to talk to them. When they got to Zag’s room, he watched him go inside, then went to his own room.
He slept, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.
When he woke up, he was still tired, but he got out of bed and forced himself to get ready for the day, even though he felt like sleeping for the next decade at least.
Zag woke up with a slight headache and a feeling of embarrassment. He really just… HAD to go and kiss Hypnos, huh? And Hypnos had clearly not felt the same and what HAPPENED to “I technically work for him so this is a bad idea”?
He really should’ve just… stayed sober.
“I fucked up, Cerberus.” He told his dog morosely, who just stared back at him.
He sighed, took some medicine, fed his dog, and put on his uniform, feeling slight dread as he exited his room. Hypnos was standing outside, and didn’t look at him as he began to walk to his first appointment of the day.
It was hard for Hypnos to muster up his usual charm, but nothing went sideways, so he took that as a win. Meals were awkward, what with Zagreus sitting in front of him but neither of them talking.
It continued like this for a week before one of them decided to break the silence.
Zag knocked on the door separating their rooms late one night, and opened it after hearing a returning knock. He walked into Hypnos’ room, noting the fact that it was messier than he’d ever seen it.
“I,” He began, then paused slightly. “I just wanted to apologize. It was wrong of me, and I can only-”
“Apologize for what?” Hypnos butted in, confused.
“Well… the kiss?” Zagreus responded, just as confused.
“Wait.” Hypnos said, eyes narrowing slightly as he continued, “I’m the one who should apologize to you, I took advantage of the fact tha-”
“Why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one with the-” Zag made a vague hand motion, “feelings.”
Hypnos stared at him. “I thought… I was the one with feelings?”
The two of them stared at each other for a while before breaking into laughter.
“We’re so stupid!” Hypnos exclaimed between fits of laughter, and Zag just laughed as he sat on the bed so as to not fall down.
After a while, their laughter ceased.
Hypnos leaned into Zag’s shoulder, and Zag put an arm loosely around Hypnos waist. Then he pulled away slightly, and asked, “Should we try this again?”
Hypnos nodded, purple flush rising in his cheeks, and the two of them kissed.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blue Hour
A/N: Soooo this is like... the first fanfic I’ve ever written lol, I don’t usually write stuff like this, but it was fun! I should have more coming at some point in the future, but for now, here’s what I’ve got! My other socials are in my bio if you wanna see more of my work!
This fic has been cross posted to AO3 here.
Word count: 10k+
Content: Mutual pining, some light smut?, childhood friends to lovers, some angst, Jimin is either the best or worst life coach, no one is sure which, Hoseok is always drunk but I think he’s neat, Jungkook and Taehyung share one brain cell but it’s shaped like a heart, Shownu best boy
Jungkook is running late.
He’s rushing to exit his dorm building, not even waiting for the elevator to make it to his floor, rushing down the stairs in hopes that it’ll take less time. In his haste, he still manages to have time to regret choosing the top floor of the four story building.
Upon exiting the building, Jungkook takes off in the direction of his lecture, thanking his lucky stars it isn’t too far away from where he lives. He weaves his way through other students, trying to cause as little damage while also moving as fast as he can.
At last, he’s made it to the right building, bursting through the first door he sees and hoping he’s in the right place.
When he enters, the class has gone quiet, all eyes turned in the direction of the disturbance. The professor, after giving him a quick once over, decides to let the interruption slide and continue her presentation.
Jungkook makes his way through the lecture hall, hoping his seat hasn’t been taken by someone who was actually on time for the class. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that no one has taken his beloved spot from him, and plants himself there before moving to pull out his materials.
“Dude, what happened to you? I don’t think you’ve ever been late for anything.”
Jungkook looks up and meets the eyes of his best friend, Taehyung. The two of them go way back, all the way back to middle school when Jungkook had moved from his small town to the big city. After watching the boy desperately try to find a place in a school that was much larger than what he was used to, his constant confusion attracting stares from already established students, Taehyung decided he would help this clueless stranger for as long as he could.
“I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm last night,” Jungkook says, finally pulling out the book he was looking for.
“That’s not like you. Maybe it was a glitch?”
“Maybe.”
Taehyung turns his head to face the front of the room, having gotten the answers to all his questions. Jungkook follows suit, deciding he should at least pay attention to what was left of the class and hope he could piece the rest of it together on his own.
Though, his eyes can’t help but drift over occasionally, stealing glances at the boy next to him.
He’s not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, between the late nights watching movies together, Jungkook had fallen for Taehyung. Naturally, he pushed those feelings down, afraid that they may make him act selfishly, or worse, ruin their friendship. As much as he would like for things to turn out like they do in fanfiction, where it turns out the two of them have been pining after each other the whole time, he knows better.
So instead, he hides his feelings away, hoping that one day he’ll be able to go back to seeing Taehyung as nothing more than a friend. Though, it’s becoming harder to keep his emotions at bay lately. He finds himself relishing in Taehyung’s touch, whether he means to or not. Hugs when something goes good or bad for one of them, touches that last just a bit longer than they would for others, Jungkook takes advantage of each of those little moments.
Even though it causes him to fall deeper each time.
~
Once the lecture ends, the students begin filing out, likely off to more stress-inducing classes. As Taehyung and Jungkook are leaving the building, Taehyung decides this is the perfect opportunity to ask his friend a very important question.
“Hey, Kook?” Jungkook turns to offer his full attention to his friend. “So there’s this party-”
“Absolutely not.” Taehyung lets out a groan.
“You didn’t even let me finish!”
“Tae, you know how I feel about parties.”
“I do! But this one will be different.”
“Last time you said that I ended up carrying you home.” Taehyung scratches the back of his head, recalling the incident himself.
“Ah, I’m a different person now!” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Besides that was like… a year ago?”
“Four months.”
“It’s in the past!”
“Barely.”
“Please just come this one time? You only have to stay for an hour.” Jungkook stares at him. “Do it for me?”
A sigh leaves Jungkook’s lips.
“Only for an hour.”
~
Jungkook doesn’t even bother putting too much effort into what he’s wearing, throwing on jeans and a T-shirt and deciding it’s presentable enough.
“Good enough to get me bye for an hour,” Jungkook says, looking at himself in the mirror briefly.
As if on cue, Jungkook hears a knock at the door. He exits his room and goes to open the door, revealing a similarly dressed Taehyung. The only real difference lies in the leather jacket Taehyung has thrown over his shoulders.
“You don’t think you’re a bit underdressed?” Taehyung asks, taking in Jungkook’s work, or lack thereof.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing! Nothing,” Taehyung reassures him. “You look fine. Let’s go.”
The two of them head out, deciding to walk to the party given that it’s relatively close to their campus. As they grow closer to their destination, they can already hear the faint sound of music in the distance. They follow the sound until they arrive at the source of the music.
The house, no, the estate, that the party is taking place in is practically vibrating on its foundation as the bass flows through it and out into the air. There’s a few people loitering outside, the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol wafting through the air. Someone is already passed out on the lawn. They likely won’t remember anything once they wake up. Taehyung takes a big inhale.
“I love the smell of regret in the evening.” He turns around to look at Jungkook, who already looks visibly sick as he takes in his surroundings. “Hey, are you good?” Jungkook appears to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’s in.
“Yeah, yeah I’m alright,” he says, moreso trying to convince himself than he is trying to convince Taehyung. “Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“Will you be alright?”
“I think so. I’ll just find a corner to hide away in.” Though he knows it’s just because he’s a good friend, Jungkook’s heart can’t help but flutter at Taehyuns’s concern for him.
“Nah, you don’t have to do that! I’ll stay with you the whole time.” At this, Jungkook gives him an incredulous look. “I’m serious! I want you to have fun, too.” Jungkook considers his words for a moment.
“If you disappear on me you’re buying me lunch for a week.”
“Deal.”
~
The party is well underway when Taehyung and Jungkook walk in. Bass coming from the speakers pulsates throughout the house. There’s a crowd of people on the dance floor, some swaying to the beat, others moving wildly. It’s not hard to tell who only has a slight buzz and who’s clearly overdoing it. Jungkook expects to see more people scattered across the lawn by the end of the night. As his eyes continue to sweep over the crowd, taking note of the guy currently hunched over and about to let loose every toxic brew he’d ingested hours prior, he hears a call of his name.
Following the direction of the sound, he turns his head and is met with the sight of a (very drunk) Hoseok.
Hoseok was one of the first people Jungkook had befriended when he first started attending school. When Jungkook had joined the campus dance team, Hoseok had welcomed him with open arms and a warm, inviting smile.
“What are you doing here?” Hoseok slurs slightly. “I thought you didn’t like coming to these things.”
“I don’t,” Jungkook confirms. “I’m here against my will.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” Taehyung chimes in. He turns his attention to Hoseok. “I knew he’d just hole himself up in his room all night, so I dragged him out for some fresh air.”
“Calling this air fresh is a little misleading, don’t you think?”
“Ah, it’s really not that bad!” Hoseok says. “This is pretty tame compared to other parties here.” Hoseok stumbles a bit, and Jungkook reaches out to steady him.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Dunno. Stopped counting after four, though.”
“Aren’t you a bit of a light weight?”
“I don’t appreciate being interrogated like this.” Hoseok begins to walk away. “I’m off to get another drink!”
Jungkook watches his friend drunkenly stumble away, presumably to get even more wasted than he already is. He briefly worries if he’ll get home safely, but Hoseok’s done this before, he’ll be fine.
“Whose house is this, anyway?” Jungkook asks, taking in the valuable looking artwork displayed on the walls.
“Kim Seokjin’s.” Jungkook gives him a confused look. “Richest guy on campus. Only met him a couple times, he’s cool.”
Jungkook looks around again.
“I’m only staying for an hour.” Jungkook reminds himself. “I can last that long.”
“You’ll be fine,” Taehyung reassures him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” he takes Jungkook’s hand and drags him further into the party. Jungkook’s lips can’t help but turn upwards in a small smile at the gesture.
Much to his surprise, Jungkook finds himself getting along with Taehyung’s friends. They seem to be much more outgoing people compared to himself, specifically Taehyung’s friend Jimin. He’s seen Jimin around a couple times, but never talked to him, the two of them existing in different social circles. It seems that a lot of time has passed since the two of them began talking, when really it’s only been about twenty minutes.
Jimin is in the middle of a story, dramatically waving his hands around to add to the narrative, when a song that some of the group, including Taehyung, recognize. They’re quick to rush to the dance floor, not wanting to be seated during what is apparantly the most well known song to most of the partygoers. Jungkook supposes he can let this one slide.
It’s when one song shifts into another, and then another, that Jungkook becomes nervous. He’s in a strange house surrounded by people he doesn’t know, all of which are a different level of inebreiated. He decides to look around for his friend, ready to remind him that he’ll now be feeding him for a week.
It doesn’t take long for him to locate Taehyung. He’s still on the dance floor, though he now has a drink in hand. He moves to get his attention when he notes that he isn’t dancing alone.
He’s not sure who the guy is, he’s never seen him before right now. He just knows the way he runs his hands along Taehyung’s body, the way they sway sensually to the song currently playing, is making him sick to his stomach.
He finds himself running to the door, hoping that Taehyung didn’t see him standing there, intruding on the moment he was sharing with this stranger. The longer he stays, the harder he finds it to breathe. He eventually makes it out onto the front porch, catching his breath as if he’s just completed a marathon. Once he calms down, he begins his walk back to the dorm, unable to get the images out of his mind. He checks the time. 10:47 pm.
He didn’t even make it the full hour.
~
Like Jungkook often does when he’s upset, he holes himself up in his room. He spends the entirety of the next day hunched over his computer, completing assignments before he turns to video games to ease his mind. While in the middle of a particularly tough fight, his phone dings. He groans before pausing, picking up the device to see who could possibly be disturbing him.
He visibly deflates when he sees that it’s Taehyung.
Not long after he left the party last night, he had seen a flurry of messages sent from the man in question. He elected to ignore them, deciding he had been through enough for one night. Now, though, he feels that he should at least let him know he’s okay and that he made it home safely. Sighing, he opens the text thread.
Tae Tae: Whered u go
Tae Tae: I thought i saw u
Great. So Jungkook’s staring didn’t go unnoticed. He drags a hand down his face before he continues reading.
Tae Tae: Were u not having fun
Tae Tae: m sorry
Tae Tae: :(
Jungkook finds his resolve cracking, if only a little. That is, until he reads the next message.
Tae Tae: I wanted u to neet someone
Well, this confirms everything he needed to know. His feelings were completely one sided. All the moments he worried he was reading too far into were just that, his own hopes being projected on to his friends. With his heart now heavier than it’s ever been, he finally reads the most recent message, though it barely registers in his mind.
Tae Tae: Hey, I’m sorry I left you alone last night. Time kind of got away from me, but I wanna make it up to you. Please let me know that you’re safe.
Jungkook finally responds, a half hearted “I’m okay,” and shuts his phone off immediately, not wanting to hear Taehyung’s apologetic messages that likely came in after.
~
It’s been days since the party, and Taehyung is beginning to worry.
He knows he messed up. He knows he promised Jungkook that he wouldn’t leave him alone for too long, but he ultimately wasn’t able to keep that promise. No, it’s not that he wasn’t able to, but rather he didn’t.
He told himself he’d return to Jungkook’s side after one song. That one song turned into him grabbing a drink, and ending up back on the dance floor with his friends. One more song, one more drink, one more song, one more drink, he cycled through these until an hour had passed since he left. He thought at one point he’d seen Jungkook, watching him in real time as he failed in doing the one thing he promised to do. He thinks now that it was likely just his imagination, his mind’s way of making him feel guilty.
He feels that he’s missed an opportunity. He wasn’t lying about wanting Jungkook to have a fun night out, that much is true. He’s always tried to push Jungkook out of his comfort zone from time to time. The other reason, the one he planned on surprising Jerry with, was introducing him to the guy he’d been seeing. He’d been friends with Shownu for about a year now, and they’d just recently decided if they wanted to explore being something more.
He thought this would be as good an opportunity as any to introduce the two of them, but he’d gotten carried away, and now Jungkook wasn’t speaking to him.
He felt a bit better knowing that Jungkook had made it home safely, but the coldness in his answer told him that he wasn’t out of the woods just yet. He’d really messed up this time.
Jungkook wasn’t only not speaking to him, he was even avoiding him.
He knows that Jungkook has been going to his other classes, if Jimin’s word is to be trusted, but for some reason he’s been absent in their one shared class. He’s likely been asking to be sent any work that he’s missed, being one of the proffesor’s favorite students. It’s unlike him to stay upset for this long. Soemthing must’ve happened before he decided to leave.
He decides that today, he’ll go and apologize in person. Somtehing he probably should’ve done in the first place.
He visits Jungkook’s dorm on a Wednesday afternoon, knowing that he’s in between classes right now and likely taking a nap. He makes his way through the small lobby and to the elevator, and suddenly he finds himself getting nervous. What happens if Jungkook doesn’t answer the door? Or worse, what if he does answer the door, but tells Taehyung he wants nothing to do with him? Or what if he knocks on his door and it creaks open slightly revealing Jungkook’s lifeless body and he gets framed for his murder only to suddenly be transported back in time-
Taehyung shakes his head. That’s the first episode of Erased. He’s spiralling.
The elevator dings, signalling that it’s almost time to either get his friend back or become the protagonist of an anime.
He should really finish Erased.
He makes his way to the dorm, operating purely on muscle memory after having been here so many times. When he arrives, he doesn’t bother hesitating, knowing he’ll think too hard and talk himself out of doing this, as he often does. He hears shuffling on the other side of the door, and suddenly, it swings open.
Taehyung doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jungkook in such a disheveled state.
His hair sticks out all over his head, he’s got on sweatpants and a hoodie, covered in wrinkles and mismatched. If Taehyung looks close enough, he can see a slight red tint to the skin around Jungkook’s eyes, signifying he’s been crying.
Taehyung feels something within him stir at the sight, but he ignores it.
Jungkook’s eyes are directed at the floor when the door first swings open, and when he looks up to meet Taehyung’s eyes, his own widen in disbelief.
They stand there in awkward silence for a few brief moments, not sure how to approach each other after how their last encounter had gone. Jungkook sighs, a tired, sad sound.
“Why don’t you come in?”
~
Jungkook is at a loss for words.
He was fast asleep when he’d heard the knock at the door, the sound waking him from his restless slumber. He drags himself out of bed, tossing on the first hoodie he sees lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, and tosses it on.
Nothing could have prepared him for when he opened the door.
Taehyung looks like he usually does, sweats and a hoodie with hair that was perfectly tossed. “People like the effortless look,” Taehyung had explained one day. He thinks he understands what he meant now.
After the two of them stand there akwardly, not sure where to go from here, Jungkook decides to invite him in. He decides if they’re going to stare at each other and say nothing, he’d prefer to do so within the comfort of his dorm.
Taehyung seems to look around the room, likely taking note of the mess that Jungkook currently resides in. A wave of insecurity washes over Jungkook at this.
“I wasn’t really expecting company,” Jungkook explains weakly.
“I didn’t think so,” Taehyung says. “I’m sorry I showed up unannounced like this. You’ve kind of been…”
“Avoiding you?”
“Yeah.”
A beat of silence goes by before Taehyung speaks again.
“Look, I know I said I wouldn’t need to-”
“It’s okay.” Taehyung pauses, confused.
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I don’t need to. I’ve already forgiven you.”
“Then why-”
“I just needed space, that’s all.”
“So you’re not mad anymore?”
“Nope.”
“Promise?
“Yup.”
“Does this mean I don’t still have to buy you food?”
“Oh, no. You’re still buying me food.” The two of them share a laugh. The air feels much lighter than when Taehyung first arrived here.
Truth be told, Jungkook had forgiven Taehyung as soon as he opened the door. He’d started to feel bad about ghosting his friend, knowing that he would worry. He felt even wrose knowing that it wasn’t really Taehyung leaving him that had made him so upset, but rather his own feelings that were getting in the way.
If putting his own feelings aside would ultimately make Taehyung happy, then that’s just something he would have to do.
Taehyung coaxes Jungkook out of his dorm with the promise of greasy food from the campus diner, and he happily accepts.
~
A week has gone by since the two of them made up.
It hasn’t been mentioned yet, but Jungkook has a feeling that Taehyung will ask to introduce him to that other guy again. He knows it’ll happen eventually, and despite his dread, he just wishes Taehyung would ask so he can get it over with.
The two of them are at Taehyung’s apartment, claiming to be “studying” when in reality this was just an excuse for them to lounge around and watch reruns of Hell’s Kitchen. It’s when Taehyung keeps glancing over at Jungkook thinking he’s being subtle that he knows something is up. He grabs the remote and pauses, just as Chef Ramsay has finished calling someone a panini head.
“Okay, you’ve been watching me like you’re waiting for me to explode.” Taehyung chuckles, having been caught.
“Alright, you got me. You are so observant, you know that?”
“You’re stalling.”
“I would never!” Taehyung puts his hand over his heart, feigning offense.
“Please just spit it out already, you're making me nervous.”
“Fine, fine.” Taehyung takes a deep breath. “I want you to come to a bar with me this weekend.” Jungkook opens his mouth to speak, but Taehyung cuts him off. “Before you argue! I’ve been to the place before, it’s really chill. It’s like a grill and bar place. Not a lot of people go there, so don’t worry about crowds. It’s totally fine-”
“Now you’re rambling.”
“Sorry, sorry. I just really wanted you to be comfortable.”
It’s a sweet gesture, and Jungkook’s heart flutters against his will. He does his best to ignore it. He pretends to think for a bit about Taehyung’s proposal.
“You promise we’re not gonna get there and immediately be met with a huge crowd like we’re in some old tv show?” Taehyung lights up.
“I’ll see what I can do!”
“Then I’ll be there.” At this, Taehyung lets out a sigh of relief.
“I was worried you’d say no for a second.” Jungkook picks up the remote and resumes the show. “I think you and Shownu will really get along.”
Jungkook freezes. He’d never heard the other guy’s name before. Now, reality is starting to set in. This is real. He’s meeting the guy that’s in the place he’s wanted to be in for such a long time.
He has a feeling he and Shownu will not, in fact, get along.
~
Jungkook doesn’t ever think he’s taken longer to get ready for something in his life.
He’s still going to go, of course. He wouldn’t just stand his friend up after he did everything he could to accomodate him and his mildly crippling anxiety. He just wouldn’t pretend to be enthusiastic about it. At least, not until he had to.
He decides that this time he’ll follow Taehyung’s advice, throwing a leather jacket on to add to his otherwise plain outfit. He doesn’t know why he does it, maybe just to keep himself grounded, but he finds it comforting in a way. Like when he was a kid and he believed hiding under the blankets would protect him from whatever creatures may be lurking in the night.
Only this time the creatures are his stupid feelings. His stupid feelings which won’t go away no matter how many blankets he piles onto himself to burrow away from them.
The universe decides to break him out of the rabbit hole of overthinking he finds himself peering over the edge of, as there’s a knock on the door.
He opens the door and comes face to face with Taehyung once again. He manages to find humor in his current situation, the similarities to the diasastrous night that began all of his inner turmoil uncanny.
“I see you decided to take my advice,” Taehyung remarks, looking at his leather jacket. “It looks good.” Jungkook offers him a small smile.
“We should go before the crowd gets there,” Jungkook teases.
“There won’t be a crowd!” Taehyung says, exasperated. “You keep talking about them and you’re gonna jinx it.”
“If it means I get more free food, I think I’ll manage.” Taehyung playfully shoves him, and the two of them head off.
~
The bar doesn’t seem particularly busy tonight, much to Jungkook’s delight.
There’s a decent amount of cars, but given that it’s a Saturday night it could be much worse.
Entering the bar, it’s clear to see that this place is much different compared to the other bars Jungkook has been dragged to over the years. There’s tables and booths scattered arund the building, along with an actual bar for the people who would prefer the more traditional experience. There’s music flowing through the speakers, much lower in volume compared to the likely heavily packed clubs spread around the city, but still loud enough that the lyrics can be heard. The smell of food floats through the air from the kitchen in the back, the enticing scent having Jungkook almost floating in the air like he’s in a cartoon. There’s a few groups of people sitting at the tables and bars, chatting away, others on the small dance floor.
“This is the nicest place you’ve ever taken me to,” Jungkook says as the two of them make their way to an empty booth. “Are you sure we’re allowed in here?” Taehyung chuckles.
“Oh don’t be like that, the other places weren’t even that bad!” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him. “Okay, they were bad, but I can go to nice places too!”
“A broken clock is right two times a day, I suppose.” Taehyung ignores Jungkook’s thinly veiled insult.
“I invited Jimin to join us as well since you two seemed to get along.”
“For what?”
“I just…” Taehyung trails off for a second. “I didn’t want you to be a tird wheel.”
“Oh. Right.”
Jungkook hadn’t even considered that before agreeing to come. He’s glad he’ll have at least someone else to focus on to keep him from curling in on himself entirely.
As if on cue, Taehyung spots the two in question and, in an extremely embarrassing fashion for anyone else, waves both his arms at them to catch their attention. Jungkook hides his face, hoping that no one other than the two people now coming over, if Taehyung’s satisfied smile is anything to go by, will recognize him.
“Sorry we’re so late! Lots of traffic tonight,” a voice that Jungkook recognizes as Jimin says. Jungkook looks up to greet him, when his eyes drift over to who he assumes is Shownu.
The first thing Jungkook notices about Shownu is that he’s significantly more built than what he was expecting. The second thing he ntoices is that Shownu could easily drop out of college and pursue a modeling career. This is possibly the most beautiful man Jungkook has ever seen, and he finds himself fixing his hair because of it.
Jungkook has already decided that Shownu is his mortal enemy.
~
The animosity doesn’t last as long as Jungkook would have liked.
Shownu is funny, well put together, and just an all around nice guy. He does his best to include them all in conversation, and even offered to pay for the first round of drinks.
He’s almost distracted, not expecting to actually enjoy himself tonight, until Shownu plants a kiss on Taehyung’s cheek while Jimin tells a story. He feels his stomach start to turn at the sight, but he does his best to ignore it, not wanting to to ruin everyone’s mood with his jealousy.
The night goes on, the increasing alcohol in his system making Taehyung more and more affectionate as time passes. He’s leaning on Shownu more now, the latter seeming to enjoy the attention while also signalling to the waitor to serve Taehyung water in place of alcohol.
Jungkook sighs. He really can’t bring himself to dislike the guy.
Taehyung decides that he wants to dance, so he drags Shownu away and begins leading him to the dance floor, a few other couples having moved that way as hell.
Once the two of them leave, Jungkook lets out a breath, now feeling like he can breathe while the two of them are off being all over each other in a place outside of his field of vision.
“So how long have you had feelings for Tae?” Jimin asks casually, taking a sip of his wine as if he’d just made a remark about the weather. Jungkook is, understandably, caught off guard. He does his best to maintain his composure.
“What are you talking about?” Jungkook says after what felt like way too long to be an honest answer.
“Dude, you can drop the act. I won’t tell anyone,” Jimin says. “Though I’m surprised you haven’t told on yourself just yet. You’ve been trying to stare daggers at Shownu since we got here.”
“Trying?”
“Yes. And failing. Because you don’t even hate Shownu, you barely know him. You’re just jealous he’s in the position you wish you were.” Jungkook sighs.
“Y’know, I didn’t come out tonight to be read like this,” He says with a chuckle.
“It’s part of my charm. Consider me your traumatizing life coach.”
“Did you steal that from a TikTok?”
“Hey, I’m the one doing the reading here.” The two of them share a laugh. “But between you and me,” Jimin starts, suddenly sounding serious, “I don’t think their relationship will really go anywhere.” Jungkook’s interest has peaked now, and he turns to face Jimin fully.
“What makes you say that?”
“Can’t say. I’m sworn to secrecy.” Jimin thinks for a moment. “Besides, it’s best you don’t hear it from me. It would probably cause chaos otherwise.”
“You’re beginning to worry me.”
“Also part of my charm.”
“Is Shownu like…. A murderer or something?” Jimin shakes his head, an amused smile gracing his features. “A bank robber? A secret agent?” Jungkook goes silent for a moment, and then gasps. “Is the government after him for committing tax faud?” Jimin begins to laugh.
“Nah, nothing as interesting as any of those.” Jimin says, and then leans in. “He’s an alien.” When Jungkook’s eyes widen, Jimin laughs again. “I’m kidding! Just kidding. He’s just a normal guy.”
“Should I just move on then?” Jungkook asks, his cheerful demeanor starting to fade away.
“That’s up to you to decide,” Jimin says. “But.. don’t lose hope just yet. That’s all I can tell you.” Jungkook sighs for the umpteenth time tonight. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“But what about-”
“They’ll be fine. They probably won’t even notice we’re gone.”
The two of them wave a passing waitress over to pay their tab, and head out the door.
The drive is quiet, save for the soft melody coming from the radio. They arrive at Jungkook’s dorm and, though the end of the night left him confused, he still had a good time. He thinks he and Jimin will be really good friends one day. When he opens the dorm of the car, he turns to face Jimin.
“Hey, um,” Jungkook starts, “thanks for talking to me.”
“Ah, no problem,” Jimin insists. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” Jungkook nods before stepping out of the car and heading to the dorm, thoughts floating through his head as he tries to figure out what Jimin knows about Shownu and Taehyung’s relationship that he doesn’t.
Unbeknownst to Jimin and Jungkook, Taehyung did, in fact, notice that the two of them had left together, if the tears that flowed so freely were anything to go by.
~
The next week, classes are cancelled, most buildings on campus are closed, save for the necessities like the dorms and dining hall, and people all over campus have either gone home or decided to hibernate in their dorms.
There’s a winter storm coming.
The snowfall predicted is said to be a few feet at least, and the roads will be iced over. Campus slowly becomes a ghost town, with no one wanting to be trapped in their tiny dorms under these conditions.
Jungkook opts to stay put where he is. He likes the idea of there being significantly less people around, snow falling and turning the once boring school into a winter wonderland. It reminds him of when he was a kid, and he would get to stay home and play in the snow, until his mom would call him inside, worried he would get sick.
He’s in the middle of a game now, deciding today was a good day to do the most challenging levels of Super Mario Maker he could find, when he hears his phone ding on his bed. The noise distracts him, causing him to fall into an awaiting pit of lava, the sound signalling his character’s demise mocking him.
He turns around to grab the device, lighting the screen up and revealing a text from Taehyung.
Tae Tae: Wanna go get lunch?
Jungkook is about to type out his response when another message comes through.
Tae Tae: You’re never gonna beat that level
Tae Tae: Too many trick moves
Jungkook is almost shocked that Taehyung knows what he’s up to, before remembering he’d been struggling with this particular level for weeks now and had made that fact very known. He begins typing out his response.
Kook: I’ll have you know I’m an expert gamer
Kook: Where we meeting up?
They end up going to the same diner they went to just last week, having already formed an addiction for the unhealthy food they have to offer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much snow in my life,” Taehyung says after they’ve placed their orders.
“Me either. Normally I like the cold but I think even I have my limits.” Taehyung laughs.
“Man, we’re getting old huh? We’re sitting here talking about the weather. I thought we had at least another ten years before we got to this point.” It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh now.
“Only ten?”
“Maybe not. I did just have to drag you away from a video game.”
“There’s no age limit on video games!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this rant before.”
“You keep calling me out and you’ll hear it again.” The two share a laugh.
“Do you ever miss being a kid?” Taehyung asks, suddenly sounds serious.
“Who wouldn’t? I didn’t even know student debt existed when I was a kid, now look at me drowning in it.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Taehyung says, then pauses. “But what about like, I dunno, feelings and stuff?” This catches Jungkook’s attention.
“What like, hormones and stuff?” Taehyung chuckles.
“Kind of. Like, the only emotions we understood as kids were like anger and sadness and sadness. But not even like, fully either.”
“I think I get what you mean. When did things get so complicated?”
“Exactly. Everything used to be so simple.”
The two of them sit in silence for a moment. Neither of them usually discuss things like this with each other. Something has shifted between the two of them, thought what that shift might be, neither is sure. This is new territory for them, so neither is sure how to go about such a seemingly sudden change.
“Y’know,” Taehyung starts, “even with everything that’s changed, I’m glad you’ve stuck with me throughout all of it.”
“Of course I did,” Jungkook responds immediately. “How could I not after you were pretty much my guide throughout middle school?”
“You were wandering the halls looking for your next class for three days! I couldn’t just leave you hanging like that.”
“I totally could’ve managed.”
“And you’re also totally gonna beat that level you’ve been struggling with.”
“I was close!” Jungkook says, dramatically slamming his hands on the table. “I was so close, but then you dragged me away.”
“Oh sure, blame your lack of skills on me.”
The two of them continue to banter and bicker with each other, and things feel like they always did between the two of them. When their food arrives, they immediately begin trying to catch the food in their mouths, tossing it to each other and keeping score, and it feels like they’re back in middle school.
It feels like everything is simple again.
~
Once the two of them leave the diner, having filled themselves with unhealthy food that they���ll definitely regret later, they begin the trek back to Jungkook’s dorm. On the way, they pass by the school’s fountain at the center of campus. It’s frozen over now, coins that students tossed in for good luck rest at the bottom of the ice.
“Think we could break this and make some money?” Taehyung asks.
“It’s probably mostly pennies. Would it even be worth all the trouble?” Jungkook responds, looking into the fountain and examining the copper toned coins frozen in place.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Taehyung is turned away from Jungkook now, but goes unnoticed as Jungkook continues his search. He spots an old band aid among the coins, scrunching his nose in disgust.
“The same place the coins are.” He looks up and sees Taehyung is facing away from him, but thinks nothing of it. “Your ideas of adventure usually end with us getting in trouble anyway. You’d be in jail by now if it weren’t for-”
Jungkook is cut off when a snowball is hurled at him, hitting the side of his face. He looks up immediately, meeting the mischievous eyes of his best friend.
“What? Too mature for a snowball fight?”
“You don’t know what you’ve done.”
Jungkook scoops up snow and begins forming it in no time, and Taehyung’s eyes widen in fear.
It’s not long before a war has broken out in the quad. They throw what feels like hundreds of snowballs between the two of them, laughing and screaming with delight as they do so. Eventually, the two of them tired themselves out, lying next to each other and laughing, the absurdity of their impromptu snowball fight finally setting in.
“We haven’t hung out like this in such a long time,” Jungkook says through giggles.
“Yea, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you over the past week,” Taehyung agrees.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Jungkook says. The next part, he lets slip out on accident, lowering his voice so that Taehyung can’t hear him. “I love you.’
He didn’t lower it enough.
“What’d you just say?”
Jungkook’s stomach drops. He couldn’t have heard him. He didn’t.
“I just said I missed you.”
“No, no. You said something after that.”
“I think you’re just hearing things. Did you get snow in your ears?”
“Jungkook.”
“I have to go.”
Jungkook stands from his spot and adjusts his jacket. Before he can make his escape and regret every life choice that brought him to this moment, he feels a tug on his arm.
“Say it again.”
“No. Please let me go.” He refuses to turn around and face Taehyung, and something in his chest aches at the realization.
“Don’t leave.” Jungkook says nothing, but he doesn’t move to get away either.
“I need to go.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes I do!” Jungkook yells, catching both of them off guard. “I can’t be around you. Not when I’ve felt like this for years.” Jungkook finally turns to face Taehyung, tears streaking down his face. “Not when I’m watching you fall for someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”
Taehyung finds his hold on Jungkook’s arm is weakening, and he lets Jungkook walk away.
Jungkook starts back on his way to his dorm, moving quickly, hoping that the faster he got to his drm the faster the embarrassment he felt would disappear. Taehyung’s touch, he found, burned against his skin, completely different from the gentle warmth he’d grown accustomed to. Taehyung would go to Shownu, and after some time, he’d forget about Jungkook. That’s what he believed.
He would never know that Taehyung stayed frozen in place as he watched Jungkook’s retreating form, tears of his own staining his face.
~
Taehyung has lost track of how long it’s been since that fateful day in the snow.
A few days? A week? Two weeks? He’s honestly not sure anymore.
Jungkook’s confession had woken up so many things in him at once. Sadness upon realizing that his friend has been holding onto those feelings fornsuch a long time. Guilt knowing that he’d essentially been flaunting his new relationship in his face, blatantly letting his friend know that he wasn’t interested in the most callous way he could do so. The worst part, though?
It had brought back old feelings he’d thought he had moved on from.
There was a time where Taehyung was certain that he and Jungkook would end up together at some point. The two of them were inseperable from the time they first became friends to a few weeks ago. It always made sense to him that they would get together and stay that way for a long time.
But things didn’t work out that way.
Taehyung had taken Jungkook’s shyness about the subject of them as a silent rejection. As a result, he’d told himself he had to move on from him, and for a while, he did. That is, until they’d started college together.
Once their environment had changed, Taehyung had noticed a change in Jungkook..
He was still averse to parties, that was still the same. But he’d grown more confident in himself. He’d been exploring different hobbies, started getting tattoos like he always talked about doing, he’d even joined a few clubs. Even with his newfound confidence, he was still the same boy that Taehyung had helped create a place for when they were kids.
Against his better judgement, Taehyung found himself falling for him again.
He thought that now, since he’d grown as a person, surely now he would confess his feelings. But the confession never came, and Taehyung had to once again push his feelings away. This is when Shownu came in.
Originally, they were just friends with benefits. No strings attached, they had agreed. They got along quite well, and that was all there was to it.
But Taehyung’s feelings for Jungkook still lingered, and he decided he needed to take it a step further.
He was thankful that Shownu had been okay with getting to know each other outside of the bedroom. Eventually, the guilt of using Shownu for his own reasons had started to eat away at him. He was leading someone else on but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.
But when he’d noticed that Jungkook and Jimin left together that night at the bar, the dam broke.
That night, he’d told Shownu everything. The years of pining that had resulted in nothing, the reason he’d started their arrangement, everything, and Shownu had been nothing but understanding.
So here he was now. Cooped up in his room, sittting with the fact that he’d been casuing his friend so much strife, all because of his own selfishness. Even now knowing Jungkook’s feelings, he fears that he’s messed up too many times for them to ever have something more than they already do.
He’s in the midst of wallowing in self pity when he hears a knock at the door.
“It’s open,” he says, refusing to leave from the cocoon of blankets he’s buried himself in.
The door creaks open slowly, and Jimin walks in, rattling a bag of food like someone would do for their pet cat.
“I’ve got a piping hot bag of bad decisions with me,” Jimin says, approaching the vaguely human shaped pile he believes is his friend. Taehyung grumbles in response. “Still havent’ heard from Jungkook?”
“No.”
“You gonna reach out to him?’
“No.”
“You gonna stay in here and watch Bob Ross painting videos instead of facing your fears head on?”
“Yup.” Jimin sighs.
“You two are very similar, you know that?” Taehyung says nothing. “You guys really need to talk about… whatever it is you’ve got going on. That’s the main problem here.”
“What good will that do?” Taehyung asks, irritation present in his voice. “He probably hates me. And I don’t even blame him.”
“Well, at least we’ve crossed that bar.” Taehyung glares at him. “You’re not the only one at fault here, though. He bottles his feelings up as much as you do.”
“So what am I supposed to do, Jimin?” a sniffle. “I don’t know what to do anymore.’
Jimin’s heart aches at the pain in Taehyung’s voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the younger boy so distraught. He moves to comfort him, placing a hand on Taehyung’s back to try to calm him down, if even a little.
“I’m not sure,” Jimin says. “I think right now you should be honest with him. I think at this point, all he needs is for you to tell him how you really feel.”
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
“I do.”
Taehyung considers this for a moment. If he’d been honest from the beginning, years ago even, they wouldn’t be here. He just hopes that later is better than never.
“Okay. Then that’s what I’ll do.” Jimin smiles at him.
“Good. Now move over, Bob Ross’ voice eases the troubles of my soul.”
“What troubles do you have?”
“Two idiots not knowing how to communicate.”
“You’re sitting on the floor.”
~
Jungkook has never felt embarrassment as intensely as he does now.
It’s been long enough that any other person likely would’ve moved on, but this wasn’t something as simple as dropping your lunch plate in the middle of the cafeteria and having the entire room clap. Been there, done that.
He’d confessed to his best friend of several years that he’s in love with him. His best friend who he knew was seeing someone, at that.
He’s locked himself in his dorm once again, not even bothering to distract himself. Instead, he opts to just lie in bed and think about where everything had gone wrong in his life over the past few weeks.
Maybe he shouldn’t have let Taehyung talk him into going to that party. What if he hadn’t gone looking for Taehyung when he disappeared that night? Perhaps he shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily. He knew that last one wasn’t an option, though. He would’ve softened up eventually.
Now, things are different. He was okay with livivng with his feelings knowing that they would nver be reciprocated. He would still have Taehyung as a friend, and if he was happy, that would be enough for him, even if he wasn’t the one making him happy.
He’s been getting a lot of texts from Hoseok recently, likely wondering why he hasn’t been showing up to practices. Jungkook takes advantage of the weather conditions, claiming to have gotten sick. Hoseok had believed him at first, but the longer time passed, the more suspicious he got.
Jungkook has sent a couple messages in response, assuring him that everything would be okay, along with other vague promises.
He’s not sure what to do at this point. Maybe he hopes Jimin really has been lying so he can move on properly. He wouldn’t be shocked if Shownu showed up to beat him up at some point. He supposes he deserves it. Shownu hasn’t done anything wrong, and now he’s in the middle of this mess.
While Jungkook begins to spiral from regret to guilt, there’s a knock at the door. This time, he’s a lot less willing to deal with whatever this could be.
“Go away, no one’s here,” Jungkook says halfl heartedly.
“Hmmm, alrighty then,” a voice he recognizes as Hoseok says. “I guess I’ll take my snacks and Marvel movie box set elsewhere!” Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“Fine, it’s open.”
Hoseok walks in, a smug smile on his lips.
“Knew that would work.” He places his bags down before taking a seat at Jungkook’s desk, turning to face him. “So what’s up with you?”
“I told you, I’m sick.”
“If you were sick you wouldn’t have let me in.”
“Maybe I’m in the mood to infect someone.”
“You also get sassier when you’re lying.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The two of them stare at each other, waiting for the other to break. A few more seconds go by.
“If I talk can we watch Iron Man first?” Jungkook says, not enjoying the silence in the room.
“Yes.” Jungkook sighs.
“Alright.”
Jungkook tells Hoseok everything, starting from how they met in middle school all the way up to what happened that day in the quad. He tells him about all the time they spent together in high school, how they had gone to prom with a group and ended up alone together in a park from their childhoof at the end of the night. He went through the details of Taehyung getting his first apartment, and how Jungkook had spent the first night there with him.
He talks for about an hour, and Hoseok lets him talk, not wanting to interrupt what appears to be the retelling of happy memories. Up until the current events that have him hiding out in his room, that is.
It’s only when Jungkook finishes that Hoseok decides to speak.
“It sounds like you love him a lot,” he says.
“I do,” Jungkook says. “I really do.”
“But it also sounds like he loves you, too.”
“Okay now you’re just making up things to say.’
“No, I’m serious. If what you’ve told me really did happen then it sounds like he’s just as ass over tits in love with you as you are with him.”
“Don’t you mean head over heels?”
“I know what I said.”
“But that can’t be right. He literally invited me on a date with Shownu.”
“Are you sure that night was for Shownu? He went out of his way to find a place you would find the most comfortable. Did he even once mention Shownu liking the place when he was telling you about it?”
Jungkook thinks about this for a moment. He remembers Taehyung ensuring that he would have fun, that this was the most comfortable place for him. He’d even invited Jimin out to ensure he wouldn’t feel left out at any point.
“I mean, I guess. But I think he was just afraid I’d cut him off if he dragged me to some noisy club.”
“Maybe it was both?”
“Maybe. But there’s definitely something there. I know there is.”
“And if there is? What do I do then? I’ve already confessed to him. On accident, like a moron.”
“Well, you already know how you feel. You just gotta wait for him to figure his feelings out.”
“And if he figures out he feels nothing for me?”
“Then you move on. You deserve to be happy too, you know. You shouldn’t have to hurt yourself just to keep him happy. If he was ever your friend he’ll understand that and respect whatever decision you make.”
Jungkook considers his friend's words. It’ll hurt, but if this is what causes the end of a precious friendship, then this is where it ends. He does a lot for other people, never thinking of how that could benefit him. But maybe it’s time for him to do that. At least once.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll just have to wait until I hear from him again. And when the time comes to make a decision, I’ll know which one I need to make.”
Hoseok stands from where he’s sitting and crosses the small distance between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s frame. Jungkook returns the gesture.
“Thanks for being here, Hobi.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m always here if you need me.”
“Can we watch Iron Man now? That was emotionally exhausting.”
“You do know that Iron Man-”
“One emotional outburst at a time, please.”
~
Jungkook is feeling much better these days.
He still hasn’t heard from Taehyung, but that’s okay. He’ll reach out when he’s ready.
The school has reopened, the storm finally passing and the ice starting to melt. Life slowly but surely trickles back onto campus, musch like the way the fountain in the quad has begun to flow like it used to.
It’s when Jungkook is heading back to the dorm to change for practice that he recieves a message he’s been both apprehensive about and excited to recieve.
Tae Tae: Can you come to my apartment tonight? I think it’s time we talked.
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to answer this time.
Kook: No problem, I’ll see you then.
~
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Hoseok asks from the driver’s seat of his car.
“Yea, I’m sure. I’ll just catch a bus if things go bad.”
“Do not do that. Call me if you need to.”
“Okay dad, anything else?”
“Remember what we talked about.”
“I will.”
Jungkook gets out of the car and makes his way to the door. He turns around before knocking, seeing Hoseok shoot him a thumbs up to cheer him on. Jungkook turns around, takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. Almost immediately, the door swings open, scaring him.
“Were you like, right by the door?” Jungkook asks, obviously startled.
“Yeah. Sorry, I was just nervous.” He peaks over Jungkook’s shoulder and spots Hoseok in the driveway. Taehyung waves at him, which Hoseok mimics before he pulls away. “Do you wanna head in?”
“That’s probably for the best. It’s still pretty cold out here.”
Jungkook lets Taehyung lead him to the living room, despite having already been here more times than he can count. They sit on opposite ends of the couch, not sure how to start after how they left things the last time they saw each other.
“So, um,” Taehyung starts, “how’ve you been?”
“Oh, god, can we please skip the awkward small talk? My head might explode,” Jungkook says, chucling slightly.
“Sorry,” Taehyung says. “I’m just not sure where to start.”
“Do you want me to go first?”
“Please?” Jungkook nods. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m nervous too.” He takes a deep breath. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we both know how I feel about you.” Taehyung nods. “It’s okay that you don’t feel the way that I do. You aren’t obligated to do so just because we’ve known each other for so long.” He pauses. “But I won’t pretend this isn’t hurting me. I can’t keep doing that to myself. I’ll do my best to hold on to our friendship but it becomes too much for me… then I’ll just have to go.”
Taehyung can only stare at him in shock. He can’t believe the words that he’s hearing right now.
“You think… that I don’t feel the same about you?”
“I mean… you didn’t say anything when I confessed to you.”
“You kinda caught me off guard.”
“That makes two of us.”
“But that’s actually what I invited you over to talk about.” A pause. “I’ve been in love with you since high school.” Jerry’s eyes widen. “Maybe even before that.”
“Wait, but what about-”
“Shownu? I just started hooking up with him to try to get over you. We just tried the dating thing to see where he would go.”
“So you guys are-”
“Broken up? Yeah, we split after that night at the bar.” Jungkook is about to ask another question, and this time Taehyung beats him to it. “I kinda thought you left with Jimin so you guys could… you know.”
“Why the hell would you think that?”
“In my defense I’d had a lot to drink that night.”
“You seem to do that a lot.”
“So I like a good cocktail, sue me!”
“You like several good cocktails”
The air feels significantly lighter than it had when they first sat down, now that their feelings are out in the open. The silence that settles over them after a bit more bantering is comfortable. They’ve moved closer to each other now as they catch each other up on everything they’ve been up to.
Jungkook decides he can’t help himself.
“Can I kiss you?”
Taehyung pauses immediately. He thinks he’s misheard him at first, until he sees Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to his lips. He’s certain his voice will betray him as soon as he speaks, so he decides to nod instead.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, they inch closer to one another.
When their lips finally connect, there are no fireworks. It doesn’t feel like time has stopped around them, and it doesn’t feel like the rest of the world has faded away and they’re the only ones left.
It feels like coming inside and having hot chocolate after playing in the snow all day. It feels like your parents cooking your favorite meal after you’ve had a hard day. It feels like putting on an old, worn pair of shoes after spending the day trying to break in a new pair all day.
Kissing Taehyung feels like home.
One kiss turns into two, which melts into five, and eventually the two of them find themselves unable to separate from one another. Jungkook pushes Taehyung down until his back meets the cushion of the sofa, and Taehyung allows him to do so. Jungkook’s dragging his hands wherever he can reach, wanting to memorize every detail of Taehyung’s body. Taehyung slides his hands under Jungkook’s shirt, drawing small shapes in his skin.
It’s when Jungkook grinds his hips into Taehyung’s by mistake, a whimper being ripped from Taehyung’s throat because of it, that they realize the compromising position they’re in. Jungkook pulls away, his eyes drifitng down to Taehyung’s kiss swollen lips.
“Do you want to-”
“Yes.” Jungkook blinks.
“You didn’t even let me-”
“Don’t need to. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”
“I just don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Ooooh, you think you could?” Jungkook squints at him.
“You think I can’t?”
“I’m just saying, I’ve been with a lot of guys-”
“Can we please not talk you hooking up with other guys when I’m on top of you-”
“-and only one has ever been able to make me cry.”
“Wait, who?” Taehyung freezes.
“Forget I said anything,” he tries to lean up to kiss him again, but Jungkook pushes him back down immediately.
“Tell me who it was.”
“But-”
Now.” Jungkook’s demeanor has changed completely, but Taehyung can’t help but continue to tease him.
“Hmm I can’t seem to remember his name now. How odd! Bizarre, even”
“Taehyung.”
“Fine, you’re no fun. It was Shownu.” Jungkook tenses up. “It’s fine, don’t worry if you can’t-”
“Are you challenging me?”
“Maybe a little.”
Jungkook captures Taehyung’s lips again, much more vigorously than he had before. He grinds into Taehyung again, his movements deliberate, rough. The action elicits another sound from Taehyung’s lips, and Jungkook wishes he could make it his ringtone.
“Be careful what you wish for, baby boy.”
It’s not long before clothes are shed, scattered about the apartment in a careless fashion. They continue their minstrations, touches evolving into grabbing, light whimpers turning into loud moans.
Sounds of skin slapping against skin bounce off every wall of the apartment. Breathy moans and whines blend together, creating a symphony of pleasure between the two of them. They continue on until the wee hours of the morning, their bodies having grown slick with sweat.
Jungkook is the second person to ever make Taehyung cry.
~
The following weekend, there’s another party held at Kim Seokjin’s house.
Taehyung convinces Jungkook once again to go with him, promising they could leave whenever he was ready.
Jungkook is much more confident now, his arm slung over Taehyung’s shoulder as the two of them walk in. Mirroring the last time, Hoseok spots the two of them immediately when they walk in. Much like last time, he’s drunk.
“Jungkook! You came! I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“You saw me two days ago.”
“Exactly. That’s practically years!” He leans in closer to try, and fail,to whisper to Jungkook. “So what’s up with him.” He very blatantly gestures to Taehyung, who’s watching the two of them interact, amusement written all over his features.
“Things are good. We’re good.” Hoseok smiles before directing his attention to Taehyung.
“If you’d hurt him I swear I would’ve destroyed you.”
“You cried in the mall because a bunch of middle school kids tripped you and called your shoes stupid.”
“Middle schoolers are mean, man.” Hoseok hears someone call his name somewhere in the distance, and stumbles in that direction.
“Is he gonna be plastered every time we meet?” Taehyung asks, watching as Hoseok turns to wave goodbye to them.
“Honestly? Probably.”
They find their way to the same area they had been the last time they were last time, occupied by the very same people as well. This time, Shownu sits among them. For the first time tonight, Jungkook feels nervous. Shownu sees the two of them coming and waves them over.
“Hey, Jungkook! Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yea, Guess it has been a long time.” A beat of silence. “Listen, I-”
“No no, don’t you dare apologize. It’s completely fine. I didn’t expect things to get serious anyway.”
“Are you sure? Because-”
“No, really. I’m completely fine. I’m glad you two are happy.” He smiles, and Jungkook returns it.
He decides he thinks Shownu is actually a pretty cool guy.
Taehyung and Jungkook stay for a while, laughing and talking with the other people seated in the area. Taehyung eventually begins drinking to the point of heavy intoxication, as he often does, and Jungkook opts to take him home. They say their goodbyes, and Jungkook carries Taehyung out on his back and all the way back to campus.
Though it’s only been about a month since they were last here, the walk home makes Jungkook feel nostalgic. The night that had ended so badly for him had resulted in a whirlwind of emotions and unfortunate events. Even so, he thinks he’d do it all over again if he had the chance.
He glances over his shoulder and is met with the sleeping face of Taehyung, him having dozed off halfway through the walk home. As he gazes at the view before him he thinks yes, he absolutely would go through all of that again.
As long as he ended up with Taehyung in the end, he would do anything.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
A TALE OF ALWAYS AND FOREVER
CHAPTER 7
Fanfiction : Bloodbound (Choices)
Pairing : Adrian Raines x Amy Richard Parker (MC)
Warning : none
Rating: Teen
TAG LIST : @otherworldlypresents , @evelynistic , @silma-words , @fireycookie , @lauren-raines-x , @nala-raines
If anyone wanna be tagged in future do let me know….
read previous chapter here ….. Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6
So here i promised this last night but sorry it got delayed ...got stuck in some important work .... now here i am .... i hope u like it
Amy had to forcefully cut the call, in order to shut her brother and she new that this will make him angry. But she didn’t need a pep talk for not getting wasted in the club before her interview. She could handle her brother afterwards and the interview was important. She wandered here and there and settled on the bench. She felt like she is being watched from behind but didn’t find someone. Just then a stunning woman with an icy demeanor came towards her.
“Amy?” stern woman said .
“ yes that’s me “ she replied .
“I am Nicole Anderson, VP of operations at Raines Corp. I will interview you . “ she said .
Amy was surprised to see that she was going to be interviewed by someone so high at post but her queries were eased when she reminded her that they take their hiring process very seriously and she followed her in the conference room keeping her confident look .
“ now then. The Raines Corporation is a global leader in technology and innovation . Why exactly are you interested in being the executive assistant to our CEO ? “
“well…” Amy took a deep breath and continued , “ I’d love to help make the world a better place . what I admire most about the Raines Corporation is your dedication to global innovation and improvement. The clean – water initiative …the vaccine for the cerella virus …the green energy project… you guys aren’t just getting rich. You’re trying to help people, to make technology that’ll save the planet. I can’t think of anything better than being a part of that.”
“hmm……a good answer. A bit cloying , perhaps, but Adrian might actually like that “ Nicole said with an appreciative look.
Just as she was going to speak the next thing , the door at the back of the room swings open , and a handsome man in a perfectly – tailored suit strolls in.
Intelligence sparks through his eyes . He was extremely charming , with his black obsidian eyes assessing her , her already killer nervousness now peaked a whole new level.
“ Adrian I wasn’t expecting you…” Nicole asked unable to hide the surprise in her voice .
Adrian as in Adrian Raines …well all escalated very quickly for her .
“ I had a free minute. Is this the candidate ?” he asked taking the authority in his hands as he decided.
Professionalism and seriousness reflected in his voice .
“ yes …but I’ve just started the interview and—“ Nicole asked stammering .
“ I’ll take over from here “ he cut her off not wanting to take any excuses .
“……of course sir , go right ahead “ she surrendered .
Adrian sat across Amy , eyes burning right through her . He has never seen such a beautiful person in his entire existence , god knows how would she be as a person .
Amy’s nervousness grew even more when his eyes bore through her but she remembered once more , she is Amy Richard Parker and nothing in this world ever scares her , she remembered her brothers’ advices on professionality and confidence and recalled her dad’s proud thought about her and her mother’s loving smile . Now that was enough to calm her down , so she put on the brave and fearless smile again on her face and straightened her back.
“ Amy , is it ? “ Adrian looked at her and saw her hazel brown eyes which her so hypnotizing , with all his strength he prevented himself from being lost in them .
“ that’s right “ she said interrupting his thoughts .
“ tell me Amy , what do you desire ? “ he asked her and she was surprised at the question .
Amy was already so mesmerized from him that this question surprised her.
“ You mean ……why do I want this job ? Because I – “ but was interrupted by Adrian .
“ I didn’t ask why you want this job. I asked what do you desire . “ he asked seriously and professionally.
“ I desire ……PASSION “ she answered after thinking fir a while .
“ oh , really ? “ he asked , his brows raising , he was in true sense intrigued by her answer .
“Sorry , if that is too personal but I am just being honest . I want to feel deeply. I want to experience life , live every moment like my last. We never know when is our last moment , it is better to live our life to the fullest than to regret it afterwards . That’s what I desire “ she answered honestly and it was the true answer she saw what happened to her family everything was good and happy then suddenly they lost everything , she do not want to regret anything .
“ I can relate“ Adrian was impressed internally but didn’t expressed it. He supressed a smile to reach his face. He was truly impressed by her desire to live and feel and experience. He now looked at her resume .
“ lets see here … graduated college 3 years ago …masters in communication …interned at Mannon financial…volunteered in San Torbida and France abroad for a year “ he read out and again was impressed from her but wondered why it took her an extra year to sign up for this interview or for that matter any other one .
“ yep that’s right “ she said .
“ well , how was that tell me in three words “ he asked .
“ difficult. Enlighting. Rewarding. “ she replied easily .
“ good , this job can be challenging and unpredictable , are you comfortable running unusual errands ?”
“Absolutely “
I have been doing them since a long time now , she thought to herself , smiling .
“ Handling confidential information ? “
“ I can keep a secret “
You wont even realise how many I am keeping right now too , she thought again and smirked .
“ Working nights ? “
“ Always been a night owl “
Okay , I atleast told him one thing fully without strings attached , she smiled while thinking .
“ Good , Anything else I should know about you ? “
“ Hmmmm …… I have got WORLD CLASS people skills “ , she said with a proud smile .
“ Oh , really ? “ he asked with questioning eyes .
“ I was voted ‘ most likable ‘ in my high school class . Also ‘ most popular ‘ and ‘ best smile ‘ . Technichally you are not supposed to win in multiple categories , but I was able to persuade them . And also the cherry on the top I was the PROM QUEEN “ , she stated out all of her achievements proudly and remembered how happy and proud her father was to see her that day . She and her brothers has always been the brightest in the whole family , anyways. Suddenly feeling nostalgic and tears building in her eyes she averted her gaze on the floor.
“ Thus proving your point “ said a grinning and impressed Adrian , but he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes and he doubted that he saw tears too , and was unable to understand why counting her proud moments made her sad .
“ exactly” Amy said after controlling her emotions and forcing a smile.
“ one more question “ Adrian leaned forward hands folded on the table and with an intense expression , told her the story of a man who got a genie lamp and destroyed everything , and then finally asked her about what should his final wish should be .
“I think his final wish should be to undo his first two wishes “ she said after thinking for a while .
“because ?” Adrian asked curious to know her theory .
“ because he already had everything he could ask for a family and many friends …what could he ask for more it was more than enough …all he wanted or ever needed was right there in front of him …this is a story of temptation and greed …he should have never played this game …all now he can do is making things as they were before “
Her answer was something totally honest … Adrian glanced at her and then noticed how true each and every word was . she was not only beautiful but also quite intelligent …in true sense beauty with brains.
She was quite interesting too …Adrian personally never saw such a person in his entire life … and he needed to know her …he knew that it is a huge risk and a mistake but he already did that when he decided to interview her himself …now he couldn’t resist her … so then he does the only thing he could do …he knew that Nicole will be a big trouble after this but guess he was okay with that if it was what would keep this girl around .
Then he grins brightly at Amy and says
“ You’re hired “
“wait what ? …seriously “ Amy asked with wide eyes , she was surprised , how in world is it possible that someone gets hired so fast …this was weird to her … but of course she was happy .
Adrian left an inside giggle watching her surprised reaction …she looked adorable with those wide eyes …his smile grew even wider … and he extends his hand …which obviously she took .
‘ oh my god …his skin is impossibly smooth…and hold so firm …wow he is really handso-……no no no …stop brain stop thinking …no eyes …don’t look in his eyes for too long … fuck …, I am a disaster …stop cheeks don’t turn red …god please ‘ she thought .
Good god if god wanted to kill her please kill her in this exact moment …someone save her from this embarrassment …she was a disaster with wide eyes blushing cheeks …FUCK.
Adrian saw her flustered reaction which was by far the cutest thing he saw in his life … his vampire senses made her blushing cheeks clearly visible …the dark pink tint on her cheek made her impossibly adorable.
“welcome to Raines Corporation “ , he said with a bright smile
They made eye contact for just moment but everything stood still for that particular moment …it was mesmerising .
In that moment Adrian didn’t knew about Amy but he knew that they were going to go a long way .
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
@choicesficwriterscreations
#bloodbound#adrian raines#adrian x mc#adrian×mc#kamilah sayeed#jax matsuo#lily spencer#choices stories we play#choices fanfiction#choices fic writers creations#cfwc#fic of the week
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Whatever happened to Robot Jones?” Fanfiction: Polyneux, 1998
Chapter 2: Catching Up
-A WEEK LATER-
The road was awfully barren, with forest on each side. The sun shined through the foliage, close to the horizon. Tim usually didn't drive at dusk or even at night, but he couldn't pass up on the opportunity to get out of his house and see his friends again after a while. He's been busy with his job, and spent most of his free time either eating or sleeping because of it. It was exhausting for him, so having the chance to break that routine and do something enjoyable for once was exciting. His mates, Charles and Mitchell, invited him over to their place to catch up a bit and just hang out. They lived a bit farther out from the rest of the town however, which forced Tim to drive on this run-down and unsettling road. Well, unsettling to him. He's always been a paranoid person, even with small things such as this. Tim tightened his grip on the wheel and darted his eyes around, but never looked too far away from the road.
Eventually, he made it to the place. It was a small apartment building, with only three stories and a small parking lot. He situated his car in a spot, and stepped out, shivering. Even with his heavier jacket on, the cold winter air and wind was still noticeable. Speed walking to the entrance, he took notice of a group of teens roughhousing and chatting with each other by the dumpsters on the side of the building. He wasn’t surprised, it was typical for kids to come out here. There wasn’t much regulation. A guy from the group shot him a look, and he averted his gaze to the ground. He reached the doors, and quickly stepped inside. There was an older woman at the front desk, smoking and reading from a newspaper. Her name tag read “Mary”. She saw Tim walk in and sighed.
“What do you need?” She said simply, taking the cigarette out of her mouth and extinguishing it in a small tray on the table. Tim resisted the urge to cough due to the remaining smoke. He really didn’t need his asthma to act up now.
“Uh, here to visit room 206” He responded, fiddling with his car keys. She nodded and picked up the phone to notify them.
“Yes, you have a visitor. His name is...” Mary paused and looked up at him, and he quickly said “Tim Morton”.
“...Tim, uh, Morton. Is it okay if I send ‘em up?” After a few ‘yeps’ and ‘uh-huhs’, she hung up and gestured for him to go on to the room. He mumbled out a quiet “thank you” and went into the elevator, pressing the button for floor 2. Once the doors slid shut, He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
‘Why does she have to smoke inside? Damn’ Tim internally said, before being interrupted by the doors opening to the floor. He stepped out, and went down the hallway until he reached room 206. Tim ran his hand through his hair, and knocked a few times. Charles opened the door a few moments later, and smiled when he saw it was his friend.
"Hey, it's Timmy! How's it been?" He opened his arms for a hug, and the other accepted the gesture, embracing him. Charles has changed a lot since middle school. His haircut was still quite similar, with it's messy bangs and such. He didn't wear those big shutter shade glasses anymore. He had a small bit of facial hair on his chin and upper lip. He wore a dark hoodie with the Atari logo in the middle, and black pants.
"Don't call me that, and I've just been tired" Tim said with some sarcasm. Charles laughed and left the hug to go close the door.
"I can tell. When's the last time you did anything besides work lately?" He asked as they both walked to the couch. Tim had to think for a moment.
"Well, I watched Jurassic Park last night if that counts... Then fell asleep halfway through" He said, plopping down on the furniture. Charles did the same and fluffed up a pillow behind his back.
"Ah. Well, I'm sorry you've been working so hard, really. It's not healthy to live that way dude, you need time to just chill more often" He spoke, itching his arm. As Tim was about to speak, Mitchell walked out from the kitchen holding a soda. He noticed the guest and nodded to him.
"Oh sup man!" He greeted, cracking open his drink and taking a small sip. Tim sat up and waved, and Mitch sat next to Charles. Mitch seemed to physically change the least among his friends. His bangs still obscured his vision, and he often wore a ponytail for his longer hair. He still enjoyed wearing flannels, and wore a black and white one. He also had blue shorts still.
"How's life been for ya’”?
~~~~~~~~
The three spent a couple hours catching up and simply just relaxing with each other. As chill as Mitch and Charles act, they still had busy moments with their lives too. It felt good to just stop and take a breather.
Eventually, Mitch suggested watching a movie, so snacks were set out and the lights were turned off. At this point it was night, with only the faint glow of streetlight coming through the closed blinds of the windows. Charles fell asleep leaning on Mitch, who had his arm around his shoulder and ate from a bag of chips. Tim ate popcorn, zoned out and tired.
"Hey bud, you still there?" Mitchell quietly asked Tim. Tim shook his head and rubbed one of his eyes.
"Surprisingly, yeah" He responded with a chuckle. He then looked down at Charles.
"He's not though"
Mitch followed his gaze and smiled.
"Happens often. He doesn't get much sleep either" He put the chips down and petted his head. "Ha, remember that one sleepover we had when we were kids? The one where he decided to pull an all nighter and slept most of the day away?"
"Oh yea, that" Tim laughed as he recalled the memory. "Things were easier back then"
"Didn't you wait last minute to finish, like, all of your essays and stuff?"
"... Things had less consequences back then" Tim corrected, and it was now Mitch's turn to laugh. They both sat in silence for a few minutes after that, trying to focus on the movie. Tim was the one to speak up.
"Do you remember Robot Jones?"
Mitch remained quiet, which made Tim nervous.
"Just because we were talking about memories and stuff" He added, twiddling his thumbs.
"Well, of course I do, Tim. Sorry about that silence, I just... miss him, even though it was so long ago" Mitchell said, resting his head in his hand.
"No, I get it. I do too. Sorry for bringing him up" Tim looked away.
"You don't need to apologize. Actually reminds me of a lot of good times" Mitch tried to lighten the mood, faintly grinning. "We did a lot of fun stuff together, like going to Nob's and ditching a few times"
"So many great memories" Tim said with a smile. "Remember that band we formed?"
"'The Rock Stallions'? How could I forget!"
~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the movie was spent chatting about their childhoods and their lost friend. Once the film ended, Tim could barely keep his eyes open. Mitch knew what that meant.
"You can crash here tonight, it's really not a big deal. You can use our bed, I'm not really going anywhere" He offered, shutting off the TV and snuggling up to his partner. Tim stretched and sighed.
"Thanks, I don't know if I could make it back to my place" He mumbled and closed his eyes. "I'll just pass out here, if that's fine"
"Be my guest. Goodnight bro" Mitch said, half asleep. Tim let out a small noise and then slept.
Meanwhile, across Polyneux, someone just arose from a 13-year slumber.
#WHTRJ#robot jones#this is probably one of the first chapters I wrote lol#wh2rj#whatever happened to robot jones#socks Morton#Cubey cubinacle#Mitch freeman#Polyneux 1998
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Well, life’s been stressful, et cetera and so on. Welcome to 2021, which will hopefully be better than 2020, but boy-oh-boy is the bar low.
I was minding my own business today when some kind person dropped a comment on one of my ‘fics (If It Takes a Lifetime). I replied to them and then read through my other replies, relived the story a bit...you know, Something Fanfic Authors Do. I was reminded of something I wanted to post here for a while, but struggled to put into concise wording: my relationship to the series.
My first foray into The Rose of Versailles was in 2008, all thanks to a certain @kippielovesyou who baited me into watching the anime because she claimed the main couple had some things in common with a pairing I was super into at the time. I got hooked. I marathoned the anime and went to work after episode 39 without having gotten any sleep at all. Shift start was at 6:30am. The assembly line started moving. One of my coworkers nudged me. “Hey,” they said. “Did something bad happen? You look miserable.”
I wasn’t miserable so much as emotionally drained. “Just tired,” I said, and focused on my work for the next 8.5 hours. I wasn’t about to tell them that my favorite characters in a television show just died.
I went home and watched the 40th episode. I felt weird afterward. Still drained. Almost...empty.
Not angry. Not betrayed. Just...this really strange sort of blankness that I had rarely felt upon reaching the ending of anything. I recalled a similar feeling at the end of the 1989 film Glory, but no other piece of media could come close to touching it. I would almost call it peace, though the unsettling kind. I’m not supposed to feel peaceful about a tragic ending, right?
But I was hooked.
I downloaded the entire series on a torrent, something I hadn’t done before OR SINCE. I burned it to discs and mailed them to Wisconsin so that my oldest internet friend (now husband) could watch it. He cried at the end. I forced my sister to sit down with me to watch the whole thing. She cried, too. I wrote fanfiction. I drew fanart (it was bad, don’t @ me). I screamed about it to countless friends on Livejournal. I recommended the series to everyone I knew and a lot of those people joined me in writing fanfiction.
What a time to be in fandom!! We flooded the fandom with regular English fanfic for the first time ever. The fandom was hopping. I met two amazing women (Kasia and Loulou) who spoiled me rotten for fanfiction reviews for the rest of my life. I bought the French manga and read the entire thing. I fell in love with one specific page (you get one guess as to which that is lol). I distinctly remember crying twice while reading the manga in a language I could only stumble through: first when Andre tried to count the stairs in the house, miscounted, and tripped, and secondly when Oscar threw herself onto her mother’s lap crying that she was a human being with feelings.
I still get emotional thinking about these scenes, particularly the latter one. The Rose of Versailles got me through so much. I honestly don’t know where I would be, or who I would be, without it. There is no way Kippie could have known that I would need RoV. For her, it was as simple as, “I enjoyed it, and I think you would, too. Because shipping.” And yeah, I’m a shipper who did enjoy it for that, but it became SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT TO ME.
I don’t want to spit the whole long tale out here, but shortly after I obsessed over RoV, I had my own identity crisis. It was a tough time for me, but it also cemented my future as an essayist who focuses primarily on the literary device known as Identity. When I went to college in 2012 that was my focus in literature, and nearly every essay I wrote I chose to explore it in some fashion. Identity. What makes a character, what shapes them, what changes or moves or motivates them. RoV motivated that love for Identity and my essays motivated the English Department chair to give me a selective scholarship (that they chose, it was never applied for). The reasoning they cited to me was that I had shown a rare passion for literature and the characters within. For the first time in my life I felt validated in my obsession with Identity.
I was in my early 20s when I first saw The Rose of Versailles, and something about the character of Oscar spoke to me, but I couldn’t quite name it. I felt that I understood her, and not just for being a woman working in a man’s field. There was something else. But what? I couldn’t figure it out.
A few years later I started seeing an uptick in romantic and sexual identities online. Demisexual. Asexual. Aromantic. Greyace. Something clicked—for me, personally, as well as my understanding of the characters. And years later, Tumblr flooded with information about ADHD presenting in women, and autism in ladies. And my brain went, OH!!!! OH!!! OH I SEE!!
I know a lot of people love Oscar for their own reason, and I think that’s probably one of my favorite things about the series: that the main character is almost universally loved by everyone, and that she receives this love no matter how the individual fans choose to view her.
Something specifically that bothered me many years ago was a certain persistent disdain for Oscar not returning André’s feelings earlier. She was blind, she was stupid, she was mean, and the worst of all: she was Bad for these reasons.
My God, when I tell you now that the scene of Oscar falling onto her mother’s lap in tears over being treated like a doll made me cry, I know why. I spent years of my life wondering why I was born the way I was. I agonized over it. I didn’t want to be “normal.” I was happy being me. But nobody else was. My sister once accused me of not having feelings. I think of that moment every time I see Oscar struggling in RoV. She’s a private person who struggles privately, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel things. And there Oscar was in the manga, having lived her life the best way she knew how, only to have her father pull the rug out from under her without deigning to even explain himself to her. Suddenly, she was not allowed to have an identity of her own. Suddenly, she was not good enough as she was.
Do you know what marriage would do to someone like Oscar, particularly at that point in her life? It would kill her. How terrifying a fate to face, no control over her own life, or feelings, or even her own body.
There’s an important scene in the manga and anime where André considers that Oscar appears “as cold as ice” to others, but personally recognizes the fire of her passionate heart and finds that endearing about her... I always felt that he liked that about her because it was a side of her only he understood, only he recognized for what it was. Like she trusted that part of her in his presence and knowing this helped that love grow. I still think that’s true.
But beyond that, I think André is on the ace spectrum himself, and understands better than anyone how Oscar’s feelings work. (There’s so much more to it than that, but I’ll leave it there for now...)
The part of the fandom that felt Oscar was selfish or uncaring for not loving André back sooner...miss the point, I think, of her character, and of the romance of the series. It’s not that Oscar is unfeeling. It’s not that she can’t love André. It’s not even that she’s choosing not to love him. In my opinion, it’s that she’s ace and the way she shows her love and care is not only different than a person might expect it to be, but also difficult to express—though whether this is due to her upbringing or her romantic identity (or both!) is up to interpretation.
More importantly, she does not owe him herself.
(And, I think beyond all this, usually people who feel this way really adore André, and while that’s great, I think they’re ignoring a key component of his character, which is: he loves Oscar and never even once so much as suggests that she owes him anything.)
Anyway, that was a long post to say: I view Oscar as ace and ADHD and I wish I could go back to 2008 me and tell myself about both of these things, because it would have saved me a lot of worry and heartache all those years ago. But it’s okay, anyway, because I still felt that connection to Oscar, even without the specific words, and I knew André loved Oscar anyway, even though he knew she was different.
If you’re reading this now, in 2021 or later, I hope you’ve been able to find a similar connection to one or several of the RoV characters. It’s not often we get to see slices of ourselves in the media, written in a sympathetic and loving way. Having that made all the difference to me when I needed it the most. ♥ And I hope it’s had a positive impact on your life, too.
#The Rose of Versailles#rov#essays from versailles#Oscar Francois de Jarjayes#tl;dr: oscar is such a good character
28 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
konicunai
☆OPEN COMMS☆
treesnutsandleaveswrites
tree here!
vitker2d
Vitker
goupii
goupi
kawinh
Nothing Special