#A shame that someone he likes dislikes him in turn I guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunboki · 10 months

Text

— START TO FINISH a Han Jisung fiction

🧸 : Han Jisung x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, forced friendship, friends to lovers, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT. 6.2k ☆ 31 minute read

WARNINGS. lots of cursing, underage drinking(reader & han are 18, legal drinking age in korea is 19), making up, reader punches someone

AUG'S NOTES. i know i know, after so long the fic is finally here!(thank goodness) and i just remembered how @geneziesm was excited for this back in.. february?? so apologies for the wait sweetness, hope you don’t mind that i changed our love interest from changbin to jisung :’) btw, the cabin they’re staying in looks like this

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. From start to finish. That’s how you ended things with Han Jisung, starting with your fist balled up and ending with a slam right to his cheek. Or so you hoped. “I mean, they’re just kids, what could they do?” Was what both of your parents said as they spoke over the phone without you knowing. Without either of you knowing you learned later on, luggage in hand as you stared at the dangling road sign beside the cabin’s entrance. Gangwon Cabin, the place you’d be occupying with Han Jisung, your mortal enemy, for two months. It could be worse.. right? No. This was the worst it could be.

or alternatively :

Two months ago you were certain you’d hate Han Jisung forever, but what about now?

You’re. Fucking. Kidding me.

"You take one step into this room and I cut off every limb attached to your body, understood?" Is what you hissed at the boy who looked too smug standing in front of you.

"Awe, aren’t you just the sweetest?"

"Better yet, I could cut off your tongue."

"The more the merrier." He stuck out his tongue connivingly, earning a hard slam of the door right in the face.

You don’t care if you have to slam that door a billion more times to escape from him, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

Your only priority for these two months? Avoid Han Jisung at all costs.

Han Jisung is the boy that ate sand as a kid. You’re sure of it.

You’ve convinced yourself he somehow ate enough sand to where it creeped up into his brain and made him into a complete asshole for the rest of his life. A shame, really.

You didn’t know if that was true or not —though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was— but the theory served as a decent explanation of why he acted like an absolute piece of shit… For the most part.

Honestly, the hatred was sort of mutual. If you define mutual as in unspoken glares across the classroom and his malice-filled smile glittering right back at you, then yeah, mutual.

Starting from the moment you stepped into Mr. Jeong’s class and took your seat beside him, a blazing electric bolt strung itself between you two. And despite being unsure why, the bolt grew stronger without sign of stopping, alighting hatred and dislike.

Was it fair carrying the burning grudge? Not at all, but if Han Jisung kept egging you on like he always did, it would stay that way.

Except what was once anger noticed by only you quickly escalated into heated, gas-lit arguments the entire school heard—because Han Jisung found the perfect timing every time. Heavy on the sarcasm.

Best example? You had utterly bombed your chemistry midterm, one you tirelessly studied for as well when a shadow loomed over your desk belonging to none other than the Devil’s offspring himself (if you guessed anyone other than Han Jisung, you’re dead wrong).

"I wouldn’t recommend crying in class, but that grade is pretty shitty so if you need a shoulder, I've gotcha sweetheart." He cockily pats his shoulder while sending you a wink, and you couldn’t believe someone would so blatantly ask for a broken nose, yet here you are.

Trust that your list of reasons to plan a burial for the seat-mate goes on as long as you breathe.

And apparently, whatever chemical reaction you’d fucked up during the exam turned out to be highly explosive on a Friday afternoon, unfortunately without the addition of Han’s broken nose. You were close though.

That day he picked. Picked and picked and picked enough that your fist found itself smashed against his jaw, the boy’s hand immediately coming up to shield the wound. Instantaneously, the classroom became noiseless apart from the sound of blood pumping in your ears and Jisung’s heavy breathing.

"Han Jisung, Ln Yn, go to the office. Now!" Mr. Jeong called from the doorway, noticeably out of breath from his brambled hair and glasses askew upon his nose.

The customary lecture about how you should "never resort to violence" was nothing new for the both of you, Counselor Kim’s furious tapping of her foot reflecting the glare she burned your way. From the other side of the room Han sat on the patient-bed, a bandage sized to his cheek covering where you’d unapologetically swung all your frustration. You had zero remorse and would continue to have zero remorse. Forever.

"For the love of god what are you two standing there for?! Apologize. This. Instant!" And with the final crack in her flaming attitude she stomped out the door, fanatically shaking her head with dismay.

Ravaging every advantage, you sauntered towards the boy, releasing a heavy sigh just to announce your 'sincerity' first and foremost. Now was prime time to sugar him up, and you’d be sure not to take it for granted.

Stepping forward, you lift your head to deliver a faux smile.

"I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to you leading up to this, especially after punching you in a spot that won’t heal for a long time because you never deserved that and most definitely did nothing wrong." Delighted to finally be pushing his buttons just as he did yours, you plaster the most guilty expression you can manage, voice dripping with lies.

Jisung breathes a rather bored sigh.

"Nice try."

Geesh, he’s exasperating. Take a hit for once, why don’t you.

"You want me to pray for your forgiveness or what?" Managing to omit the derogatory nickname attached to your sentence, you spare a hasty glance at Ms. Choi, the nurse who every other male at the school had a crush on. She types into her laptop at an alarming pace—fortunately either ignoring or oblivious to your brewing cat-fight.

The boredom appears to leave him instantly for a reason you couldn’t guess. Regardless, you knew it meant bad news.

Exasperating. He is unbearably exasperating.

"'Didn’t think you were that in love with me, but no. I want you to give me a kiss," Using the hand he’d previously ran through his hair, he pointed to his cheek. "Right here."

Is no one else hearing this? He’s not serious .. right? And why are your hands sweaty?

"Bullshit."

Aha, there’s the usual Oxford graduate vocabulary. Let’s hope Ms. Choi didn’t hear anything.

"Sadly. Worth a try though." Jisung deflates, swinging his legs around aimlessly. He’s daring from a point you can’t figure out. His inability to piss you off is easy to discover, but there’s something else there—a word your finger keeps skipping over.

Then suddenly, in the midst of observing your lost-in-thought expression, he piques with realization. By the time you notice, all your earlier remorse voluntarily throws itself out the window. Not that there was any remorse anyway. Definitely.

"Wait- don’t tell me you’re actually going to apologize, hold on I need to record this—"

"SHUT UP! I’m leaving, have a good evening Ms. Choi." The poor woman jumped out of her skin, shakily bowing farewell as you stormed from the infirmary, seething rage billowing out both ears.

Your walk home lasted much longer than usual, probably because you didn’t even want to step foot on the property; wanted to savor every moment of fresh air before seeing your parents in their fury glittering glory.

Unbeknownst to you, they’d already gotten the call—four hours ago, to be exact. Though you didn’t realize that’s how long you’d been procrastinating, and neither did Han Jisung, who was doing the same thing.

Except while you walked around killing time, he occupied a swing at the old neighborhood playground, humming a tune to himself.

So as you turned the corner, the last person you expected to be there was there, seeming quite aloof as he gazed off into the distance.

"What’re you doing?"

You swore he leaped a solid foot into the air, hand frantically clutched to his chest as if you were the doctor telling him he wasn’t allowed to jack off anymore.

"Jesus! You scared me. I should ask you the same thing," Han grumbled, lips pulled into a taut pout.

This momentary peacefulness, or whatever isn’t hostility occupying the space between you is gross considering you’d socked him mere hours earlier, still able to make out the light bruising scattered along his jaw.

You kick off some of the mulch lingering atop your shoelaces. "Procrastinating going home, you?"

Laughing bitterly, Han settles back into the swing. "I guess that’s something we can agree on," He says, causing you to sort of falter.

Sadness lingers in his tone and you can’t decipher it, not when your average Han Jisung would be rearing to tease you. Instead, he remains quiet enough that when your phone buzzes in your pocket, you flinch.

"I’ve gotta go. This is the eighteenth time she’s called, I wish I was joking." You breathe through your nose, staring at your mom’s number flickering atop the screen.

Why you even dismissed yourself you don’t know. It was Han Jisung, why did you bother? You should’ve acted spiteful and left him at that. But you couldn’t. Not when he seemed so.. miserable. You staved down the gnawing guilt.

"What color do you want to wear in your casket, I’ll be sure to tell your parents."

Well there goes any chance of being nice.

"I hate you," You automatically snarl, spewing those words as if they had no weight anymore.

Looks like everything is back to normal, for now.

Currently standing at the doorstep, you thought back to all the excuses you’d used in the past and which one seemed suitable this time around. Which one would, hopefully, secure your life for another day.

There’s the truly heroic "he was insulting you guys! Saying you didn’t raise me right!" that would earn a bit of sympathy, or maybe you could even go bigger and say he was threatening to rob you and— the door opened. Shit.

"Come in! Tell me about your day at school." Your mother, strangely enough, smiled.

Okay. What the fuck is going on. Where’s the berating and disowning threat, seriously.

"Aren’t you mad?" You skittishly ask, only receiving a swift jerk of her head signaling for you to come in.

Hence, you tentatively, like an ax would strike you at any moment, obediently tip-toe into the living room, glancing around cautiously.

She finds her spot on the couch beside your dad and you nonchalantly shift a good distance from the two, just to be safe.

Who knows, perhaps they’d planned collaborative man-slaughter.

"Oh no, we’re livid, but we talked about it and have a fantastic idea that we’re sure will help!" Help what, you’re not sure. All you know is that this cannot possibly end well.

Your ungodly hour wake up was the first unfortunate event, basically being shoved into the car to who knows where and before you knew it, the sunlight illuminating the road in front of you became shrouded with shadows of tall alpines looming overhead. They spared no hint as to what their "fantastic idea" was yesterday, so the jury ruling your case as a third-degree murder was only something you could wonder from the backseat. Something you could wonder for a long, long time.

Thankfully, decades later, the vehicle eventually came to a halt and your parents wasted no time shoving you just as easily as they did into the car, outside of the car. Adjusting to the brightness, you find yourself facing a building only definable as a cabin from the wooden exterior and forest surroundings.

A creative collaborative homicide, definitely.

"We’re here~" Your mom calls from the passenger seat, helping unload stuffed suitcases from the trunk.

Suitcases. Lovely.

Alright, staying here for a while doesn’t sound too bad aside from the feeding yourself part. Yogiyo Food Delivery could find their way here, surely. You’d just have to give a generous tip, that’s all.

Clapping her hands together a little too excitedly, the woman pats your shoulder, gesturing to the abundant amount of luggage your dad heaved to the entrance, or wherever the rickety door leads.

Hold on, whose car is that parked beside yours?

Almost like she read your mind, her brows lift cartoonishly as you follow the click of a car door opening in unison.

"Oh! Right! Now we wanted to make sure this would be beneficial for both of you, so we invited Han’s parents to have him stay with you for these two months!"

Haha.

You’re dreaming. This is all a dream. Because Han Jisung did not just get out of that Kia, and she did not just say two months.

Automatically, your hands fly into the air, willing to battle your way out of this one if that’s what it takes.

"You’re leaving me here? Are you serious-what’re you-Hey! Don’t drive away!" Before you can open your mouth the two cars back out of the dirt road without so much as a goodbye to the children they’d utterly abandoned, might you add the children that wanted nothing more than to bury each other a day ago.

And so, the two months of summer hell began.

..Albeit, out of all your troubles, the scenery wasn’t too hellish opposed to the internal screaming echoing around your skull.

Instead, serene, comfortable sound consumed the wilderness surrounding the cabin, filling your ears with the hum of evening birdsong and water trickling from the river below. At least that part was tolerable.

You perch on the edge of the railing and listen, trying to distract yourself from your mind for a moment—allowing you to bask in a billion thoughts you wished to drown out.

Han had already gone inside without even a hello (not that you expected one), seeming to feel the same amount of hopelessness as you did after hearing your fate. Peaceful, until the creaking patio door opening rips every inch of calmness right out of your grasp.

"The view is nice, isn’t it."

Stop it. Stop talking like we’re friends. It’s not normal. We are not normal.

The sensible part of your mind tells you this is how people that don’t go for the throat talk, but you can’t convince yourself to communicate like that. Not with your history, not now.

"Nice without you interrupting me." Your grip tightened on the fence supporting you, refusing to even spare him a glance in fear of watching disappointment flood his frontal. You’d stab a stake through your chest before succumbing to him, before sympathizing his feelings.

"I’m going inside," you mouth, quickly slipping past him through the half-open door without another word.

Unforgiving. You are both very unforgiving. Or maybe it’s you, unable to forget about your grievances, unable to let go. For a second—closing the door behind you—you fear you’ll never be able to let go.

Radio silence inhabits the aged home, and you both hurry off to separate sides to digest everything’s awfulness in your own, unique ways. Han resorts to strumming the acoustic guitar he’d stuffed in his bag before leaving Seoul, and you, well, you cope, furiously pacing the room until exhaustion overtakes your limbs and you pitifully flop onto the floor.

The suitcases will have to rot outside tonight because leaving this spot, no less passing by the living area, meant Han Jisung exposure, the last thing your sour mood needed. You rationalize—you really do—but fleeting thoughts and whatever keeps itching your leg steal your chance of thinking positively.

Wait.

Alternatively, during what he assumes to be your sulking-about-how-life-isn’t-fair session, Han’s daily mug of coffee (the one he’d missed out on due to being forced up at the asscrack of dawn) was cut short thanks to a shrill scream. He hurriedly placed his beverage on the counter, racing to where you stood glued to the wall of the hallway, finger shakily pointing to a bug crawling along the floor.

Mischievously, Han crossed his arms over his chest, surveying the chaos that could ensue with a simple request. This was already off to a great start.

Why not get his fair share? Toying with you was way too fun after all.

"Y’know, there’s a great way to deal with this." He takes his last swig of caffeine while you basically crawl into your skin, impossibly backing up further from the skittering insect.

"And what would that be?"

Rookie mistake. He can tell you’re aware of exactly what he’s going to say next, already two steps behind him before you realize you can do anything about it. What to choose, what to choose.

Then, Ding! A marvelous idea strikes.

"I’ve always imagined the nickname Sungie would sound cute coming from you," he sings, dreadful anticipation vividly apparent. He’s having a blast.

Wrinkling your nose, your glare radiates nothing but red-hot animosity, patience walking a thin wire. Han loves every bit of it.

"What the hell are you talking abou—"

"You might wanna say it, that beetle is getting closer," He says, voice laced with devilish intent.

Unfortunately for you, life and death were the only ways to get through this. Naturally, you leaned closer to choosing death for the sake of your reputation, but life had to be an asshole and shatter your ego into a billion tiny pieces last minute.

"FUCK- Sungie- kill it now!" You shout, releasing a very frustrated scream you’re certain could’ve topped Regina George’s.

Beneficial? She called this beneficial?

"I knew it’d be cute,” He snickered, instantly covering the god-forbidden demon with his empty cup and grinning up at you with crescent moon eyes as if he hadn’t brutally manipulated your terror seconds before.

You hate him. Hate him hate him hate him.

God. You wanted to cry.

. ..

Jisung would’ve loved to see your reaction if he caused a ruckus so early, but he was being nice this morning, carefully traveling around the kitchen island to fill his thermos with water when he dropped the metal bottle and the loudest, most blaring screech echoed around the entire house.

Truthfully, it was an accident. Truthfully.

You wouldn’t believe him.

Not even a minute later, low and behold, the adorable grumpiness identified as you peeked out from a blanket burrito, noticeably seething from your bedroom door.

"It’s five in the morning you lunatic, what is so important that you’re leaving at five in the morning," you grumble, instinctively pulling your blanket tighter when he approached.

"You really want me to stay with you that badly, honey? All you had to do was ask~" You tiredly push away his kissy face leering close, clad in pajamas and not quite awake enough to put up with him.

He twirls the keys, stopping to dramatically blow you a kiss in the process.

"'M going on a run, don’t miss me too much,” Jisung waved, and with the click of the door closing behind him, he’s gone to who knows where.

His cockiness makes you roll your eyes as you begin whipping up some form of breakfast to satiate your stomachs complaints, knowing your chances of going back to bed were slim to nothing due to being woken up so mercilessly.

If he dropped what sounded to be a iron pipe to wake you up, thinking about what his next "alarm clock" would be gives you goosebumps. Yep. No going back to sleep for you.

Except the minute hand ticks by, and what used to be a short run turns into an uneasy feeling by the time the third hour rolls around.

Three hours and twenty minutes.. Three hours and thirty minutes.. Three hours and forty minutes..

Screw it, you’ll go looking for him.

"Jisung? Jisung, where are you!" Your shouting has to have echoed around the entirety of Gangwon at this point, stopping to catch your breath on the side of the never ending dirt pathway. Miles and miles you scour, gradually reaching a bench covered by a willow tree where you slump down, enjoying the swift moment of rest.

What you hadn’t expected enjoying your much needed break was to find the exact boy you were searching for, lying fast asleep in the shade.

Covering your mouth to mute your gasp, a string of mumbled curses fall off your tongue as you get up from your spot and hesitantly approach the sleeping beauty.

Oh so slowly you sit down in the grass, paying attention not to make too much noise from the crunchy leaves.

"It’s not fair that you’re pretty even when napping," You mutter, infatuated by his mesmerizing looks that seem to glow in the minimal light emerald leaves reflect.

That is, before his eyelashes dust and you noisily rush to your feet, flushing pink at an alarming pace. The prince-like beings' cheeks puff, blinking rapidly to clear the sleepy haze.

"Huh? Y/n, when did you get here? You’re red; are you okay—"

"Yeah. C’mon." You speed-walked ahead despite Jisung calling out for you to slow down, terrified he’d seen you or, worse, heard the things you’d said.

He stalls to pick up something and you experimentally glance back, noting a green color visible through the plastic bag he held. What’s inside is only recognizable by the clinking of glass colliding together.

"Did.. did you- is that…" Words pour without making sense, squinting accusingly at the bit of a label you can see reading "Chum Churum Soju."

Your bewilderment keeps you planted to the ground, scrolling through your mental list of possibilities explaining why it couldn’t be alcohol. And suddenly you genuinely question if Han’s delinquency appeared outside of school as well.

Surely, because the smirk painting his features when he caught sight of your shocked expression left no room to wonder.

"Won't it be fun?" He shakes the bag. "We’re irresponsible highschoolers anyways, and the grandma working there said it has the best flavor this time of year."

So that’s how he managed to get by without an ID. Of course.

Problem? One, you’re underage. Two, who knows if someone found out. Three, you had no goddamn clue what you were like drunk, and the last thing you wanted to happen was a detrimental mistake under the influence with Jisung. Everything about this foreshadowed disaster, how he couldn’t figure that part out was beyond you.

Or maybe he wanted disaster to strike, maybe it was all a part of his plan, the cherry on top to ruin your life permanently.

Yeah, you’re not letting even a drop enter your system.

"Aigoo— don’t cry," Han whines, obviously a bit tipsy, though compared to you who’s almost completely wasted (rocking back and forth while spilling nonsense to nobody in particular), he’s basically sober.

It was an accident, you swear. You couldn’t help it, he called you a coward and dared you to a drinking contest that put your precious pride on the line—leading into this shithole of a situation in the first place. Backing down meant ultimate defeat, and knowing you had at least three more weeks stuck here narrowed down the last option available.

"'M not crying asshat.." You sob, hand feebly hitting the table in a pitiful show of aggression. Your brain is fuzzy and everything feels so weird and dizzying. Then you feel it.

Oh no. Word vomit. You can’t stop it.

"I just don’t think it’s fair, Jisung," You blurt, Han blinking tiredly upon hearing his name. "You have such a pretty face for such an awful person."

You’re babbling now, blurily viewing multiple emotions unfold prior to opening his mouth. You guess in some way he heard what you said below the willow tree, even as a drunk confession.

"You.. You think I have a pretty face?" Though seconds after he finishes speaking you lean across the table to press your index against his lips, the boy’s eyes growing to the size of saucers.

"Shut uppp, I don’t wanna hear your voice, ever." Interrupting the question, you wobble to your feet, grip fumbling on the chilled door knob before blindly plowing into the room and collapsing on your mattress.

Meanwhile, Jisung attempts to stop you. Keyword: attempts. He does, almost there, and then the carpet trips him somehow (his own way of pretending he didn’t slip over nothing) and he’s kissing the floor, exhaustion immediately numbing his entire alcohol-ridden body till he succumbs to oh so welcoming sleep.

Gasping awake, a rampaging headache greets his skull, unevenly carrying himself to grab a barely there cup of water that’ll hopefully ease some tension. He assumes this must be a hangover, and man, it’s more of a pain than he thought.

The Jisung back in Seoul wouldn’t be able to fathom getting drunk at noon before ending up here, a place that was certainly not home. Well, the Jisung back in Seoul wouldn’t be able to fathom getting drunk at noon along with waking up on the floor, being stuck in this place with you, and an entire collection of things he couldn't name off the top of his head.

Being completely honest, he’s amazed he hadn’t slept the rest of the day and night after earlier, filled with crude small talk and stolen alcohol sipped from styrofoam cups. And you calling him pretty, that too.

Said styrofoam cups scatter in disarray all over the floor, evidence of how drunk you’d both got that painted quite an impressively messy picture.

There’s not much to see staring through the fogged window; Gangwon’s relentless humidity leading to a nearly impossible view of the lake outside. Though he doesn’t mind. In fact, knowing that no one can find him here, you and him, isn’t too bad. No teachers looming over him, nor were his parents reprimanding him for grades slightly below perfect.

Although in the midst of his headspace, a floorboard creaks exceptionally loud and you stand, rocking back and forth on your heels and gazing at him through half-lidded eyes he can’t quite read. What he distinctly spotted, however, was the smile casually gracing your lips. A dreamy, loopy smile that told him something wasn’t exactly normal.

"Sungie.."

Han cranes to hear what you say, bewildered by the nickname you swore to never utter. Were you still drunk? You had to be, or you wouldn’t have approached him with open arms like that to bury your head into his chest where he feared you’d hear his hammering heartbeat—frozen stiff as a board with your arms wrapped around him.

"Are.. are you still drunk?" Han timidly asks and you absentmindedly groan before your movement stops, the boy doing a double take in case you managed to pass out buried in his clothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he pulled you off of him, body curled in disgust due to the saliva staining his t-shirt where your face had been.

Yep. You had fully passed out while hugging him.

"Wow, how much did you have to drink again?" Laughing to himself, he struggles guiding you to the couch to sit down without stumbling over each other.

Propping a pillow behind your head, the boy hesitates, feeling a sort of déjà vu he can’t make sense of. Though quickly enough, he shakes off the phenomenon and begins raising up, but a softness threading through his fingers stops him in his tracks for a second time, and he has to blink multiple times to register what was happening.

Although appearing passed out still, your hand found its way to reach for his, holding onto his pinky so lightly, so carefully. The boy's heart pounded, collecting all of his self control to refrain from making decisions he'd regret.

"Stop. We can’t." Sentence trembling on his tongue, he steadily pulled away, nearly wincing when you shifted slightly.

You were only dreaming, you never would have done this if you were awake, he reminded himself, glancing back to where you lie once more as if you’d magically spring up and announce your undying love for him. Did he want that to happen? No, he’s just joking, just a joke. Right.

It hurts, he can’t name why.

He prays you don’t remember.

"Please tell me why it’s so freaking cold in the middle of July," You mumble to nobody, spotting your cell mate’s cabin mate’s backside crouched over the fire pit. What he busied himself doing you couldn't guess, unpredictably unpredictable.

Curiously, you shuffle to the window, observing the charcoal he added before flicking the lighter and setting the lumber ablaze, flames licking at the dark sky above. Starting at age ten you learned curiosity killed the cat, but never did you think it killed humans as well. That was, prior to Jisung noticing you watching him. Astonishingly, however, he motioned for you to come out, refraining from the average jerk behavior on this occasion.

Unpredictably unpredictable, like you said.

"Have you given up yet? Hating me, I mean." Appearing beside the lawn chair you had cozied into, he tossed a few additional branches into the brewing flames, dropping down to warm his hands. Apparently, you don’t remember. Only Jisung would realize that.

"You talk about it like it’s a choice." Stuffing your hands inside your coat pockets, you avoid him per routine. Confidence comes easier that way, especially with him—someone you’re weak for.

You’d never admit that.

"It’s not?"

Your tongue pokes at the flesh of your cheek, ticked.

"You don’t seem to understand the hell I go through every day I come to school. Han Jisung, you give me every reason to hate you," You state coldly, fists clenching and unclenching where he can’t see.

This argument is fearful. You both glare at anything but each other, turning away from mere face-to-face contact in fear you’d apologize. Jisung is always first to look, first to try understanding.

Those times are never noticed by you, someone who doesn’t give in.

"But we're not in school anymore; we’re free in a cabin in the middle of Gangwon. So could you at least pretend to not hate me?" He looks. Looks at each minuscule twitch of your mouth, the soft cupid's bow perfectly carving your lips. Han scolds himself. He gets lost in you sometimes, a habit. Times that he’s glad you avoid him, unlike now, desperately needing you to see.

"Pretend? Did you say pretend? You’re fucking insane thinking I can just pretend nothing has happened. You think I can walk away from all this like it’s nothing, because I'm nice and sweet and do anything for anybody? You’re heartless, Jisung."

The boy hastily clutched onto the sleeve of your puffer jacket as you got up, fanning flames revealing your broken expression.

You shakily inhale, tears unconsciously slipping down your cheeks. This is the last thing you wanted, to end up crying in front of him. But here you are, walls crumbling down.

"Stop trying to make us right when we’ll lead to a bad ending."

You tremble and his grip loosens automatically, lingering there.

"Look at me."

"Let me go."

"Look at me, please."

You foolishly look like he did. Look and note how deep the pools of dusky caramel dancing in his eyes are. Look and pinpoint the mole residing on the right side of his face, effortlessly close to pretty pink lips. Look and admire the sweet curve of his eyes complimented by the shape of his brows, furrowed with sadness that match the tone you’d heard that day you found him on the swing.

You curse your hiccuping, delving into the softness of his palm while his thumb delicately swipes your tears. He’s warm. Han Jisung, though you never thought you’d say it, is warm to the touch.

"We’re not leading to a bad ending, Y/n. You want a bad ending because of what I’ve done, so you can feel like your anger is justified. This is my fault, and I’ll take responsibility, so give me a chance to fix it and quit burdening yourself because of my mistakes, okay?" He tips his head, tenderly caressing the delicate tear-stained skin beneath your lower lashes.

Today, tonight, everything you ever believed about Han Jisung was proven wrong.

His perception and his kindness, which you didn’t even know existed, forged through the surface and tore your heart in halves. He’d revealed himself to you and in actuality, he always had; you just closed your eyes.

But today, tonight, he didn’t let you close them; he held them open to see him, see his apology, see his acceptance—and it gave you no choice but to comply, to nod your head and trust him, something you’d never done before.

You take a seat again, yet the stifling company isn't stifling anymore, and a sensation akin to relief floods the brisk air surrounding Gangwon cabin. He brings you tissues and you say thank you, it’s new. He smiles and you smile back, it’s new as well.

You’ve never liked things you were unfamiliar with, but this is okay.

For once, being around Han Jisung feels okay.

"..Did it hurt?"

He blinked, fixating you with a confused stare.

"When I punched you, did it hurt?"

Slowly, his mouth stretched into a grin, chuckling. That’s new too, you think you like it the most so far.

"Like a bitch."

. ..

You’d say your relationship evened out, not finding an incessant need to respond with something even nastier. It was weird at first, coexisting and all. Weird being so friendly, despite the annoying banter paying occasional visits.

Better, better this way.

The moon rose up high in the sky only to settle, and you’d periodically climb to the top of the house in a way Jisung had taught you, hand placed on your back reassuringly as you climbed the cob-web infested windowsill up to the roof. You’d also say that gesture didn’t affect you. You lied.

Nonetheless, the rooftop "dates" helped you appreciate how bright and brilliant the twinkling balls of fire were after being pulled out here where artificial light is infinitely scarce compared to Seoul’s amusement park of electricity.

"That," Jisung points, finger drawing an imaginary line connecting specific stars lighting up the sky. "Is the constellation Cygnus, it’s Greek for swan. When I studied in Malaysia there was a great hill to stargaze, that’s where I learned about them."

You nod, savoring the otherworldly view paired with his voice.

Comfort. He’s comfortable telling you about himself. Your heart feels happy.

"I always thought Lyra and Cygnus would make a good couple," he says, beats of a silence passing before you burst into a fit of giggles, the boy raising up to lean on his elbow appearing quite offended.

A constellation? He thinks constellations would make good couples?

Han Jisung is full of surprises.

"Yah I’m serious! They’d be perfect together! It’d be romantic and sweet and— you’re mean." He whined playfully, suppressing his own laughter noticing how hard you were trying not to laugh.

Quietness, silence if you must, replaces the once child-like conversation. Not the I’m-counting-the-seconds-to-your-funeral type silence that occurred daily prior to your campfire crying/make-up session, but a calm silence.

"Could you imagine what the kids back home would say?" He breathes his words airily whilst admiring your eyes staring up at the sky—twinkling. To him, those eyes hold the galaxy in them. Eyes that weren’t introduced to him until recently, on a night he’s certain he’ll remember for the rest of his life.

"We’re not home, we’re free, like you said." You don’t glance at him and ironically, he can’t stop gazing at you. You move and he watches, enraptured by this. Whatever this may be.

Ah, he’s staring again. Lost in you again.

Abruptly, your dramatic sputtering successfully pulled his head out of the clouds, splatters of water began to dapple your once dry bodies. But as you prepare to ease down and go inside, he lightly grabs your wrist with a sweet look, convincing you, if only for a few minutes, to stay.

"You’re crazy, Jisung." You laugh, expression breaking into the most breathtaking beam Han had ever seen. If someone were to take a picture of Jisung right now, he’s certain his irises would be heart-shaped. And in that moment he swore he’d never fallen in love harder before. Falling in love he’d write about on pages of a journal, photograph with his polaroid back home. Falling in love soaked with rain on the roof of a cabin, stargazing without clocks to tell you what time it is.

You’re drenched, he’s soaked. He wants to kiss you, you want to kiss him. Then you remember you’re still learning this entire "normal people" concept and he’s supposed to tread carefully when it comes to you, but everything fits so well and your lips sort of connect and you can’t let go.

He wishes he could stay in this moment forever.

Your hands in his hair, his cupping your face, head tilted to gain easier access while leaning against his side. Endlessly close.

Han is like spring, like daffodils blooming their hidden colors deep in a field. You might get frustrated searching, but once you find and pluck the flower from long stalks of grass, its petals will shine eternally.

Rain is pouring, pelting his already messy overalls and leaving strands of ash blond stuck to his forehead, lips pulled so high up he can’t think straight.

He smiles and you do too and things feel right, righter than they had in a long time.

Young kids sure act stupid when you leave them alone for too long.

He wouldn’t take it back for the world.

.. .

"Ready to go?" Referring to the doorway, he waited for you by the door, brown hues carrying emotion you chose not to acknowledge.

"Yeah, um, get home safe and text me sometime, whenever you’re not busy, I mean." He nods a response, stupidly happy face earning your harmless scowl in the process of helping push your luggage through the door.

Different. Remarkably different from how things were before. Two months ago you would’ve hated this, hated anything to do with him.

Different, it was different now. Better, better this way, like during stargazing.

He turned left and you turned right, opposite directions towards where your parents stood, towards the cars that would travel far from here. You’d drive, drive and drive back to Seoul carrying new feelings and new conversation, new love.

And from a peculiar standpoint, Gangwon Cabin was your start to finish with Han Jisung. Starting with a punch to the face and ending in a way you could never have imagined that one summer in high school.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @ren0325 @lix-ables @babrieeee @azurez @soobnny @weird-bookworm @q1sng @telesvng @ren0325 @hello-stranger24

389 notes · View notes

azulsluver · 11 months

Note

I saw ur requests were open and I'd like to see your thoughts on a masochist! Reader for bully au, what characters are most likely to enjoy it, those who dislike it, those who just bully them more for being 'weird', etc

（*＾ワ＾*）please and thank you!

(Sorry if this goes against ur guide lines or if you've already had an ask like this (^. .^) )

I’ll feed y’all :3 I have no words but I shouldn't be surprised people are into this..reactions are short bellow.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, dubcon relationships, mentions of bruises/blood/scars.

Those who are into it:

Ace

Brings out a whole new meaning of hurting you till you like it. Turns him on weirdly enough, you’re so willing to him that he finds it cute. Feeds into his delusions that you like him back.

Deuce

That must mean you like him back! He's so happy you're seeing things his way, now he can provide your needs as you do his. However I do see him holding back on the hurting you part, you love him so he'll try his best not to permanently scar you.

Leona

You’re finally learning your place. I guess he was trying to drill that type of reaction out of you. But you seem to really like it when the heel of his foot crushes your windpipe. Gurgling with a needy whimper.

Jade

He likes it, a lot. Your expressions to your reactions. You do as he pleases when hurt, actively trying to get away but can’t help your sick desire to be cut open. Viewed and manhandled like some object.

Idia

Filling up his wildest fantasies. He’s practically drooling over your tearful eyed face, but you’re clearly into it. Gives him an ego boost and makes him 10x an asshole. Slut shames you for being so shameful, have you no respect?

Lilia

This is surprising. Lilia has dealt with many people who enjoy getting harmed over the littlest of things. You like getting your hair pulled? Litters of marks and bruises over your body? How far can you go?

Trey

He’s held back, this brings out his more sadistic tendencies now that he understands what he’s getting in to. You want it to hurt, and he can provide that. Because you’re providing him a free stress ball, something he can use without worrying it’ll run away.

Cater

That’s cute. Super cute. At first his instinct was to belittle you for liking it. But he’s getting the bigger picture. You love it, you love how much he hurts you and your little feelings. And he so too grows on it.

Ruggie

Less trouble. Makes more fun for your little secret relationship. You’re the perfect thing for Ruggie to relieve on without grudgingly saying no. Because you want him to mount you and tear open the scars on your thighs.

Rook

You’ve never seen Rook this happy. He’s testing out all the ways to get a reaction out of you, the camera clicking on your sweaty and ruined face. He’s sure to break your body and rebuild it once again.

Those who dislike it:

Floyd

Why? Floyd expected a crying and shriveling response, but you’re blushing and desperate under his shoe. It’s cute, sure, but he wants a raw reaction of pain. You’re not giving him what he wants and it’s annoying.

Jamil

Like Floyd he expected you to beg for him to stop. Not moan and beg for more. He’s not purely against it but it ruins his fantasy to hurt the innocent that’s in front of him.

Sebek

Disgusting. Sneering, have you no shame, remorse or dignity left? Sebek bullies you to break you down, not have the pleasure to satisfy your need of pain. Go find someone else for that.

Jack

Confused. You’re showing him another reason on why he shouldn’t help you at this point. Why love getting hurt? Finds it degrading on your end.

Azul

What normal person enjoys having their confidence and ego stripped just to get their back stepped on? Like Jack he thinks you’re embarrassing for stooping this low. Honestly you deserve whatever plans they have for you.

Epel

Not what he was expecting. Pisses him off because he doesn’t want you to enjoy it. You’re supposed to not like it, it feels insulting to him and makes him throw more of a fit.

Vil

Have some class. People are watching and you’re easily letting yourself go just by a slap. He might not like it but he will continue to harm you. Don’t you like it? So don’t stop him when he’s bashing your head on the table.

Those who are unsure:

Kalim

Conflicted if he should enjoy the fact you're returning his love or that it's another way to get out of punishment. You being a masochist amuses him yet there's a gut feeling that he's all too eager to please. This relationship might actually work well with, there is no other reason to brutal hurt you when you're being so good.

Malleus

Did he do something wrong to get this reaction? Not expecting it, so it’s all new. Malleus would somewhat continue to berate you only because you beg for more. Who knows, maybe he’ll get the idea and feed into your desires.

Riddle

I feel like this would genuinely stop Riddle from bullying you. He doesn’t like it but not against it? He’s unsure of himself. Personally think his behavior is ok because he’s teaching you a lesson but you enjoy it…

Silver

Help this poor man. Explaining to him that you want him to physically harm you would freak him out. Probably runs away from you.

367 notes · View notes

fuckthemforthis · 4 months

Text

Maribor recap or long rambling, some pics and trying to make sense in my head:

1. Thank you @chibi-chellist again for reaching out, it meant a lot not to be alone! Rambling about the boys is so much better in person and when it's not one-sided. I enjoyed meeting you and sharing experiences! 💕

2. Kaj pa Ester? is one of the cringiest things I've recently seen, especially dialog wise haha BUT it is also funny and kinda cute. Very teenage-y I guess, with too much lots of kissing and parties for which scenes they used some terrible modern cajke music (like use the good old soul ripping ones that don't mention Elon Musk... teenagers today smh). Anyway, I wouldn't mind it being longer and better developed in the emotional areas which you see they scratched but need deepening to give an actual sense of plot and sense to the movie. Could be due to the fact it was supposed to be a show first tho. However, I couldn't see Bojan's personality, mannerisms or gestures so in that sense I feel he did a great job acting 👏

And THE SCENE. Oh boy. Less sad and more frustrated bojerking. Putting shame aside to admit I would love to have it available on demand, especially for some ragged breathing appreciation...

3. Bought and tried Jan's fav cookies, yaay! They're really soft and don't crumble so I approve and will enjoy. I'm sure sentimental reasons are definitely a big part of why he named them as favorite and when I think about it they really suit him but there are better Slovenian cookies like almost any from Težak bakery in Zreče.

4. Half the venue were teenagers or parents with anything between 4 to 12 year olds. I was surrounded. And since I sat a few rows above the backstage entrance, kids all tried reaching for them as they were going off stage and among all the girls there was an 8 (?) year old boy who reached out and Bojan gave him a high-five... and lemme tell you I very much dislike kids but the way that boy turned and excitedly smiled melted my icy heart.

5. Third concert of theirs, third time on Jan's side. And I think Kris somehow knows & takes revenge by not singing NGVOT whenever I'm in the audience 😔

Well Krisko, princess dear, no photos of you 😝

6. Found it adorable how as ASTP was starting, Nace went to drink some water, took his bottle and clinked it against Jure's 🥂

7. Love that Maks was there again, I like the guy. At some point during the concert he was leaning on the fence above me taking pics and I missed half a song watching him work 🙈

8. As I was behind the loudspeakers, I heard Bojan's singing fine, but talking barely because it was often too distorted. What I did hear was him saying we came there for a workout to burn all the cookie calories from the last few days... and boy are you on the wrong track because I came back home with four different packs of cookies 🍪

9. Band dad Niko's daughter was with him watching the concert from next to the stage and he danced with her and it was adorable. The existence of good dads baffles my poor unloved ass...

10. We all know how in the setlist there's a connection between Padam and Demoni because Bojan even sometimes said "and when we fall they come", but I realised the chain starts with Dopamin. First you get a dopamine rush and feel like flying but soon you experience a crash because your body used up all the good stuff and then comes the falling and the demons (and then you go back to someone so the demons would go away but that someone just plays you again - if I wanna extend it to Katrina). Yes it's kind of a concert - post concert sadness - concert rinse&repeat metaphor

11. Janči had problems with his pedalboard for the first two or three songs, he and Kiki spent minutes fiddling with it trying to get it to work. Poor guy can't catch a break.

12. So yeah, the last point is based on Jan being sick, but it's actually about the main reason I like them so much - the connection, love and care they share.

I realised Jan wasn't okay during the concert so Bojan just confirmed it for me. He obviously still slayed, and he went to play at the front a lot, but there were telling moments.

A) When Bojan came to Jan at one point and rubbed his back in a very non performative way, squeezing at his shoulder and whispering something.

B) When Jan plopped down during Padam I thought "not when he usually goes down, is he okay?" and then Bojan leaned down to stroke his hair.

C) The most telling of all, when he sat down during Umazane misli. I kept looking at him, ignoring the left-front-right karaoke. He looked so tired and off, put his head in his hands and then Kiki gave him a bottle of water. When Nace turned around and noticed him like that, he smiled encouragingly and told him it's okay three times (yep they were close enough to read lips) and that's when I was 100% sure something was wrong and he was either feeling off emotionally or sick. He then got up, went to the front, played his ass off and only when he was walking back was it visable again for a moment how empty his expression was.

D) Jure coming to comfort him and cheer him up as soon as he could lift his ass away from those drums, leading him to the front where in the end Jan turned out to be the one stroking Nace's back in a "yeah it's okay" kinda way

E) As they were leaving for the final time, someone gave Jan a wrapped present he looked actually happy about and he threw back a pick but it fell where the person couldn't reach so Nace took over making sure the person gets it.

That's it. They are all utterly beautiful. And anyone who knows me, knows I use that word to describe people first and foremost on the inside. Beautiful.

#joker out #my emotions are still all over the place

71 notes · View notes

cilil · 4 days

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

𓄌 Characters/pairings: Caranthir & Fëanor, hints at potential Caranthir x Turgon 𓄌 Synopsis: Fëanor offers to craft accessories for his sons to wear at the next Feast of Horns. Caranthir has what he believes to be an unusual request. 𓄌 Warnings: / 𓄌 Oneshot (~1.2k words) | AO3

Carnistir had both dreaded and looked forward to this moment, though the former outweighed the latter.

His father had announced that he would be crafting accessories for all of his sons for the next Feast of Horns, celebrating that the entire family would be in attendance for the first time, and promised that each of them could pick whatever they wanted and he would make it.

For most, if not all of his brothers, it was an easy choice and they knew exactly what they wanted, or so Carnistir believed at least, but for him, it was more difficult. Not the choice itself, if he was honest with himself — he had an idea what he wanted — but he grappled with it regardless and disliked the idea of having to explain himself to his father.

It wasn't Carnistir's first time participating in the Hunt. His brothers had dragged him along once before, with Tyelkormo in particular claiming that he couldn't miss it, and as was tradition for debutants, he had been among the Hunted. The greater battle had been with himself rather than the Hunters, finding himself strangely enchanted by the idea of being desired and pursued, while unable to admit it to anyone else and acting aloof to hide his inner turmoil.

In the end Carnistir had successfully hidden in the woods of Oromë — no small feat as he liked to think, especially with Ainur participating in the Hunt as well — and rejoined his brothers at the end of the night. Nobody had bothered to inquire about his whereabouts after his declaration that everything had gone well, and he preferred it that way. Even so, the aftermath had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, his mind ever wandering to all the possibilities he had denied himself out of pride, shame and, as much as he hated to admit it, cowardice.

But this Feast of Horns would be different. Carnistir had promised himself that it would.

And then he had also learned that Turukáno would be a Hunter.

I could hunt as well. Maybe alongside him, if he agrees to it.

Though perhaps I should be hunted instead to rectify my mistake. Any other choice would only be further cowardice.

Turukáno could hunt me. I think I would like it if he did.

But why would he? Especially if Findaráto joins in as well. And he most likely will.

Such was the back and forth between the two warring forces in Carnistir's mind, unfulfilled desire raging against what he believed was his better judgement, yet his perceived lack of courage and bravery was what eventually tipped the scales in favour of the former. He was a son of Fëanáro after all, he couldn't hide in a corner while his brothers participated in the Hunt.

Even so, choosing the Hunted meant that he would have to ask his father for a necklace or even a collar instead of horns or antlers, and Carnistir dreaded having such a conversation.

Thus he made his way to Fëanáro's forge reluctantly when Nerdanel told him that it was his turn. He announced himself with a short, sharp knock and entered in tandem with his father's invitation to come in.

Fëanáro was sitting at his workbench and bent over an elaborate sketch he was working on. A quick look confirmed that it was most likely Tyelkormo's gift, and Carnistir tried not to let his mien sour too much. Of course he's still busy with someone else.

"Ah, Moryo," his father greeted him and looked up with a smile. "Do you already know what you would like or do you want to take a few more minutes to think?"

"I am ready," Carnistir replied curtly. It hadn't escaped his notice that Fëanáro appeared to be in good spirits, and he was about to ruin it all; but it was too late for second guessing himself. A plan of action had been made, and he would stick to it, come what may.

"Very well. What are your ideas?" Fëanáro asked and finally reached for an empty sheet of paper to place on top of the sketch, ready to take notes.

"I want a collar and I don't want gold."

Silence fell between them for a brief moment.

"So you wish to join the Hunted?"

"Yes." Carnistir pressed his lips together, ready to defend his choice, but his father took notes without further inquiry.

"Do you know which materials you want instead if gold is not to your liking?" he then asked conversationally.

Carnistir gave a light shrug. He had thought of everything, every complaint or counterargument that might be brought against him for making what could be considered a strange choice for a Noldorin prince, but not the gift itself.

"Something practical," he said eventually.

Fëanáro smiled. "I hope you will allow me to craft a silver one then. I think it would look lovely on you."

"Fine by me."

More notes were added.

"And what kind of details and ornaments do you want? Maybe some jewels or gemstones?"

Another shrug. "Plain."

"You know you can choose freely, Moryo?"

"Yes." Picking up on the hint, Carnistir thought about it again. "Lots of people have little charms attached to their collars, like antlers or spear-tips or arrowheads. I think I would like that too."

"Anything in particular?"

"A dagger." Inspiration came spontaneously, but for once Carnistir allowed himself not to overthink it.

"And what about the gems?"

"No gems. They sparkle too much."

Fëanáro grinned at him. "Ah, I see. You don't want to make it too easy for the Hunters to spot you."

"Of course not."

"And you are right. A favour from one of the princes of the Noldor should not be won too easily after all." He wrote down more notes. "Anything else?"

"No." Carnistir paused for a moment, then added, "I leave the rest to you, Father."

"I shan't disappoint. If you like, you can have a look at my sketch in a few days — I will take some time to think about it."

He nodded. "Thank you."

They fell silent again, but no further words were needed. An unspoken understanding that the conversation had concluded hung between them, and Carnistir turned to leave.

On his way out, he spotted another sketch at the very edge of the workbench, slightly crumpled as if it had been hastily swept aside in favour of Fëanáro's tools and the other notes and sketches he had made. To his surprise, this one depicted a collar as well, not too dissimilar from what he had asked for and imagined for himself.

Unable to resist, he stopped and pointed at the sketch. "Someone else is joining the Hunted as well?"

Fëanáro looked up to meet his inquisitive gaze, and his eyes sparkled with the same sort of mischief Carnistir would normally see in Tyelkormo and the Ambarussar.

"That one is for me," he said, lips twitching as if he had to suppress a bout of laughter when he saw his son's shocked expression.

Carnistir left the forge without another word, his cheeks flushing bright red. He needed a moment to process what he had just learned, only to decide that he neither needed nor wanted to know the implications of Fëanáro's words regarding his parents' relationship.

Well, he thought to himself, if I was wrong about Father, maybe I was wrong about Turukáno as well and he may hunt me after all.

taglist: @blauerregen @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii

#feastofhorns #caranthir #carnistir #feanor #fëanor #silmarillion #oneshot #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #again sorry i'm late

39 notes · View notes

celandeline · 3 months

Text

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (14)

I don’t know what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night (a lie, I know exactly what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night), but whatever he did has her scarfing down yogurt parfait like it’s nothing. Which, for anyone else, would be completely normal, but for Venetia, is more than a little strange. In the year, roughly, that I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her do more than pick at her plate - and even then, she’ll still disappear to the bathroom for fifteen minutes. No matter what I say, or do, or what I would cook for us in the dorms, it’s entrenched in her. I’m just happy she eats when she’s drunk.

Next to me, Farleigh flips his newspaper, a cigarette perched in his other hand, and a coffee still steaming next to his empty plate. I know he’s not looking at it though, because he keeps looking at me, a very faint smile on his lips and a knowing look in his eyes every time Oliver and Venetia so much as look at each other. He’s particularly smug this morning - I know he’ll use this against Oliver somehow. I finish off my scrambled eggs, and begin to butter my toast.

Slowly, Oliver slides his croissant across the table, to Venetia. Venetia slowly picks it up, and in one bite, eats almost half of the croissant, never dropping his stare. It’s almost worse than watching Oliver go down on her last night - at least then it was dark, at least then they weren’t sitting at the table with us, with her parents. I busy myself with finishing off my glass of orange juice.

I know that she’ll no doubt tell me all about her late night endeavors later. I still haven’t made up my mind about whether or not to tell her about mine.

Felix’s brow is furrowed as he joins the table, sulkily dropping into his seat and immediately slipping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. As always, Oliver immediately drops Venetia’s attention in favor of turning towards Felix. “Morning.” He says. “Sleep well?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Nah, not really mate.” He grumbles.

At the head of the table, James swallows a bite of his breakfast, and pats his napkin around his lips. “We're thirty for dinner tomorrow night. Stopford Sackville has cried off.”

A round of groans go around the table - Felix, Farleigh and Venetia all sighing almost simultaneously.

Only Elspeth doesn’t join in, but her tone still betrays her feelings. “Oh dear, that's a shame.” She’s not convincing at all.

“Who’s coming to dinner again?” I ask. I’m sure, at some point, someone talked about it before, but I can’t remember for the life of me. I’m a little embarrassed to ask, but not enough to keep me quiet. This isn’t my house - I’m allowed to forget about social arrangements.

“The Henrys.” Venetia says.

Farleigh laughs and gripes at the same time. “No, please!”

“Who are the Henrys?” Oliver asks, glancing at Felix.

Felix doesn’t answer - Venetia does. “Dad's friends. They're all called Henry.”

“Not all of them! Just most…” James protests.

Elspeth still sounds unconvinced about dinner, even as she’s trying to convince the rest of the table, “It’ll be fun!”

Venetia drops what remains of her croissant back onto her plate. “It'll be being molested by Henry.” She shoots a look at James. “You know which one!”

Elspeth rolls her eyes. “I'll put you next to Oliver then! He can molest you instead.”

I watch as Felix - already sulking - sinks lower into his seat, his brow tightening even further. He looks furious. I glance at Farleigh, to find him smirking around his cigarette. I expected the turnaround time between us accidentally witnessing Venetia’s moonlight tryst and him tattling on Oliver to Felix to be longer, but I guess I underestimated Farleighs dislike of Oliver.

Elspeth reaches a hand across the table in Oliver’s direction. “Oh Oliver, I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday. A proper party! No Henrys! Something actually fun.” Oliver’s face changes, and his eyes slip from Venetia to Elspeth. “What do you think, darling?”

James smiles. “If Oliver would like it then I think it's a splendid idea.”

Farleigh scoffs, his eyes set on the newspaper in his lap. “I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window.” His eyes flick over to me, and he smiles.

Oliver’s voice cracks when he speaks. “What kind of party?”

“I don’t know, whatever you want.” Elspeth says, flippant. “What do you think? About a hundred people?”

“A hundred?” Oliver looks to Felix for help, to no avail.

“Or two. It invariably ends up being two, doesn’t it, with this sort of thing…” She pats the top of his hand, and smiles. “Invite whoever you want. All your friends.”

Farleigh looks up from his newspaper to take a drag of his cigarette. “What friends?”

Oliver glances at Felix again. Felix is steadfast in pretending that Oliver isn’t sitting next to him, his eyes fixed on the wall behind Farleigh’s head.

James’s face lights up. “Oh! Oh! How about fancy dress?”

Venetia rises from the table abruptly, and stalks away, headed towards the bathroom. My heart sinks. I guess Oliver Quick isn’t good enough for her either. That makes two of us.

“I can wear my suit of armor, Elspeth!” James excitedly sets his napkin back down on the table.

“Good idea darling.” Elspeth says.

Finished with my breakfast, I lean over to Farleigh. “Can I have-?” I don’t even get the question fully out of my mouth before he’s digging in his pocket, pulling out his box of cigarettes and offering it to me. I pluck one from the box, and he leans forward, pressing the end of his to the end of mine until it lights. “Thanks.”

“We could have a theme!” Elspeth continues. “What about Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

James smiles. “Lovely.”

“Bring on the slutty fairies.” Farleigh says, eyes flicking to me, grinning.

I return his smile, and puff on my cigarette.

< previous part | next part >

#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

45 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 11 months

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol.5 Sakamaki Laito Animate Tokuten CD

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol. 5 逆巻ライトアニメイト各巻購入特典ドラ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 5 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: Bowling master Laito kind of threw me for a loop, but it also makes sense? Like he strikes me as the type of guy who would be unexpected skilled at a bunch of random things. In general, I’ve been really enjoying these ‘date scenario’ CDs. They actually did a good job making every one of them unique and choosing fun locations for each boy. I know the chances of us getting another DL anime are really slim, but if they do decide to make one, I really hope it’s not a season 3 based on DF or LE but a bunch of OVAs instead based on the drama CDs.

“...What’s this? There’s quite a lot of people here despite it being so late at night. I guess bowling is pretty popular. I thought I’d be able to do all sorts of fun things with my Bitch-chan, such a shame! ーー Ah! Our lane is over here. Ah! Check out the monitor over there! It actually displays our names as ‘Laito’ and ‘Bitch’! I love your name. It really stands out amongst the others! I would have loved to be able to input ‘Bitch-chan’ instead, honestly. I felt pretty bummed when they told me that I could only input up to five characters. Right, Bitch-chan?”

You frown.

“...? You’ve been quiet this whole time. What’s wrong? Did you want me to add the ‘-chan’ as well?”

You shake your head.

“Then what’s the matter?”

You complain about him wanting to come here.

“Eeh~? Is it really that strange? Even I feel like playing a game of bowling every now and then. There’s no ulterior motive behind it!”

You squint your eyes.

“Oh dear. You’re still suspicious of me? ...Fine. I’ll fess up the truth. ーー We actually gave here today because I wanted to do you a favor.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Mmh. We’re usually active at night, so most places where high schoolers like to hang out are closed by that hour, no? So we’re limited in the things we can do, right? Well, you might be fine with that, but you’re still a blossoming high school girl, so I figured that you might fantasize about the kind of cute dates depicted in shoujo manga and such. ーー I thought it wouldn’t hurt to go on a typical high schoolers’ date for once, so I started looking around for places which are open 24/7, which brings us here today. How’s that? Do you understand now?”

You nod.

“Nfu~ I’m glad. With that misunderstanding lifted...Now that we’re here anyway, why don’t we get started? I’m up first, aren’t I? Let me think...Which ball should I pick? ーー Ah. This one will do.”

*Thud*

“It has the same color as your hair. I’ll throw it as hard as I can, imagining its your head instead~”

You protest.

“Nfu~ Oh come on, you may say that, but I know you’re happy deep down! You love to get pushed around by me, don’t you? ...Ah! When it’s your turn, why don’t you pick a ball in the same color as my hair? I don’t dislike the idea of being at your mercy either~”

You refuse.

“Geez...You’d be able to get so much more of of life if you just enjoy it as one of many fetishes. You’re so easily embarrassed. Fine. ...I’ll throw the ball, okay?”

Laito faces towards the lane.

“Let me think...I’m supposed to throw it leaning down...or from up top?

You seem surprised he has never bowled before.

“Eh!? Bitch-chan...Do you really think I’ve come to this sorta place before? Today’s obviously my first bowling experience!”

*Rustle*

“But don’t worry! Experience isn’t what matters...It’s all about chemistry...!”

Laito throws his ball.

*Clatter clatter*

“Huh? I knocked all of them over. Is this what you’d call a ‘strike’?”

You seem very impressed.

“...Nfu~ I got praised~ Anyway, is this really so amazing?”

You nod.

“Heeh...I wonder if I am a natural at bowling? Control is key, so it might be the perfect game some someone who is very technique-minded such as myself. In that case, I’m quite curious what you are capable of, Bitch-chan~”

You frown.

“Now, now, no need to be so modest. Show me what you’re made of. Go give it a shot! ...Nfu~ I’m very much looking forward to this.”

You walk towards the lane.

“Break a leg, Bitch-chan~! Throw it with everything you’ve got!”

You throw the ball.

*Thud thud*

“Nfu~ Ah-ahー I guess the excitement ended up being her downfall. What a shame. ...They call this a ‘gutter’, don’t they? I can’t believe you didn’t even manage to knock over one of them. ...Ah, come on. One more try, no?”

*Thud*

You try once more.

*THUD*

“Ahー You really suck at this, don’t you?”

You seem disappointed.

“No need to be so sad. My strike might have been just a fluke. I’ll go next, so watch me, okay?”

Laito walks up to the lane again.

“...Hah!”

*CLATTER*

“Aah~ I guess it wasn’t just beginner’s luck! I might have a knack for bowling after all! ...In that case, Bitch-chan, why don’t you come over here with your ball?”

You pick up your ball and approach him.

“Okay! Let’s practice how to hold the ball!”

*Rustle*

“Geez, no need to be so surprised. We came here to treat you to a good time today, so I’ll teach you very gently~ Come on, hold the ball.”

*Rustle*

“Hmー That won’t do.”

*Rustle rustle*

“You need to stretch your arm a little more.”

You try to scoot away from him, asking why he is touching you.

“What are you saying? I’m fixing your posture! I think I proved earlier that my bowling skills far exceed yours, so don’t you think it’s in your best interest to take my advice?”

You frown.

“I mean, it’d be kind of difficult to tell you what to do without clinging to you like this, is it? I’m positive that it’d be so much easier to teach you good posture through direct touch!”

*Rustle*

“Come on, lean back against me and stand straight.”

*Rustle*

“Don’t move! You want to be able to throw the ball properly don’t you?”

You tell him to move away.

“How mean, telling me to back off! I’m only trying to show my good heart by teaching you! I mean, if you lose this duel against me, you’ll get punished, remember?”

You seem surprised by that.

“I mean, duh? Didn’t I tell you? All games have some kind of punishment game attached to it, don’t they? You have to expect those kind of things! By the way, now that you’ve already thrown once, you’re part of the game, so there’s no backing out~”

You ask him if he would punish you right here in public.

“Fufu~ Why would you ask that? ーー I get it. You’re curious about what this punishment would entail, aren’t you~? Were you perhaps hoping that I’d suck your blood~?”

You deny it.

“Nfu~ No point in trying to deny it~ I bet you imagined my fangs sinking deeply into your fair nape, didn’t you? Aah~ I suppose I have no other choice. That wasn’t the plan, but I’ll live up to your expectations and make the punishment something deliciously painful~ Please look forward to this punishment...which will turn both your body and soul to putty~”

You try to make a run for it.

*Rustle rustle*

“Ahaha~ Oh come on, hold up! I told you that there’s no way out, didn’t you? You better behave...or I’ll do it right here, right now.”

You immediately stop resisting.

“Nfu~ Good girl. Besides, there’s only a 50% chance that you’ll get punished, so just remember that you could always win and try to make the best out of it!”

You sigh in defeat.

“Well then, let’s continue your lesson. Now, where’s your spine?”

*Rustle*

“Nfu~ Found it~ Mm~

*Rustle rustle*

“What are you saying? I’m helping you straighten your back! By tracing my fingers across your spine like this...See? You pushed out your chest which improved your stance! Try to hold this proper posture, okay?”

You ask him if he knows what hte proper posture for bowling is.

“Eh? No idea! How am I supposed to know what is the ‘right posture’ for bowling when I’m still a newbie at the game myself.”

You ask him what he has been teaching you then.

“You’re just so terrible at this, I’ve just been giving you random points and then it was up to you whether or not you’d take my words for granted. ...Anyway, ahaha~ They’re really hard to miss when you’re standing looking straight ahead like that.”

You tilt your head to side.

“Over here. These bite marks on・your・neck~”

You squeak.

“They’re the proof of the love we share with each other every night~ It’s too bad you can’t really see them unless you move this close. I promise I’ll make them stand out even more by biting you nice and hard when we get back home, so rest assured~”

You complain.

“You’re adorable when you pretend to dislike something. However, no losing on purpose because you want to get bitten ,okay?”

You insist that you would never do that.

“I wonder~? You’re a naughty girl who seduces other by feigning discomfort. You want me to completely overpower you, run away with the victory and inflict pain upon you as a result, don’t you? And then you’d try to play innocent by saying ‘Oh I don’t actually want this, but it can’t be helped because I lost the game~', won’t you? ...Sure. Two can play that game. I like that sort of thing as well after all. I’ll make sure to slowly drive you into a corner...and then tease the living hell out・of・you~”

Your cheeks grow hot.

“Oh? What’s wrong? ...Nfu~ You’re flustered, aren’t you? Oh come, you are so shy~ ...Anyway, let’s get this game going! Try throwing the ball following my tips from earlier.”

You nod and throw the ball.

*CLATTER CLATTER*

“Wow~ You actually knocked them all over! I’m shocked!”

You rejoice.

“Nfu~ Congratulations, Bitch-chan. Judging from your sheer excitement, could it be that this is the first time you’ve ever hit a strike?”

You nod.

“Mmh, mmh~ I’m happy for you! In that case, why don’t we end on a positive note and wrap up the match right here? It’s obvious you’ll lose after all.”

You protest.

“I mean, even if continue to bowl one strike after the other now, you already threw a gutter once, so you have no chance at getting ahead of me.There’s no way I’d give away the win now.”

You shake your head.

“Ah~ We can keep going until I have a slip-up if you want, but in return, your punishment will get more and more severe, the longer the game lasts. I believe you’d be much better off admitting defeat right now and simply heading home with me.

I’m fine with either scenario. We’re here on a date today for you after all. You can choose whether you want to call it a day right now and quickly get your punishment, or if you’d rather have me tend to you thoroughly after I’ve messed with you a little longer.”

You call him out on being unreasonable.

“Nfu~ Exactly. I might be messed up. But you love this crazy guy, don’t you? In which case, you have no other choice but to play along with me and slowly become insane as well.”

You sigh.

“Fufu~ Since you sighed in defeat, does that mean you’ve made your choice?”

You choose to go home.

“Nfu~ Sure. As you wish. Well then...Shall we head home, Bitch-chan~? I’ll treat you to plenty of the good stuff which you love oh-so much~”

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

146 notes · View notes

wintergreen28 · 1 year

Text

Darkness in Colorado

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Aaron Hotchner x Fem!OGCharacters

Summary: Aaron and Reader get lost trying to find the unsub, and it’s getting colder and darker by the minute.

Word Count: 2k

Trigger Warnings: canon-typical violence, PTSD, possibly bad writing

A/N: This is probably going to be a fun little two-parter if you would like it to be!

It had been long since darkness enveloped the forest they were searching through. It had been long since the temperatures started to drop, and they regretted not putting on thicker layers. It had been long since Liz didn’t want to kill Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m just saying, if we turn our flashlights off, and let our eyes adjust, we’ll have less of a chance being spotted.”

“And I’m just saying, that’s a stupid fucking idea. It leaves us more open to attack. Especially from behind.” Aaron grumbled back at her.

“You would like it from behind, wouldn’t you?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Shame.” Liz muttered, half-joking, turning off her flashlight. She continued to peruse forward, leaves crunching under her boots, making her way through the cursed forest this state called a national park. Why they had to come here in the first place was beyond her, but she guessed a serial killer couldn’t really pick a better spot.

Aaron reluctantly turned his flashlight off behind her, and the darkness covered them once again. They paused, blinking through the initial sensory deprivation, and adjusted.

“See? This isn’t so bad!” Liz exclaimed, continuing deeper into the woods.

“Admit it. We’re completely and utterly lost.”

“Didn’t the agency give you that fancy little GPS thingy? Why not use that?”

“I left it in the SUV.”

“Of course you would.” Aaron nearly fell behind her, stumbling on a root of a tree, and she snorted. “I thought you had the best eyes, Boss.” He scoffed, trying to continue on as smoothly as possible.

“Can you at least admit we’re lost?” Aaron grumbled.

“I admitted it an hour ago, where were you?”

“Trying to contact the team, you nimwit.” Liz couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when she had started to dislike Aaron today. Maybe it was minutes ago, maybe hours, but she felt that she finally returned his not-so-secret hatred for her. Ever since she had joined the team, he hadn’t been her biggest fan. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing she had come in at a turbulent time in the team–they had just gotten off of a very stressful case where Elle was nearly killed by a murderer who called himself “The Fisher King.” Liz was initially brought in as a temporary substitute for Elle, but later became a permanent fixation under the advising of Strauss and Gideon.

She knew that it definitely hurt Aaron for him to be undermined by people who he felt had it out for him. Gideon, who was formerly the head of the team, and Strauss who was just an all-around heinous bitch. She also knew that she likely wasn’t as qualified for the job as other applicants had been, though had some unique experience and insight into the job and into the minds of others. Being a veteran and a main fixture in Afghanistan for a while, being a board-certified trauma surgeon, and having worked alongside NCIS for a few years was an odd skill set for someone in the BAU to say the least. She was just glad that she had something to offer, especially when looking at autopsies and being able to help victims who were near-death at the scenes.

Having a recommendation from Jethro Gibbs certainly helped her application. She had worked with his team in the NCIS for a few years after being hijacked from her hospital position while consulting for them. She had fallen in love with the work, and later moved onto the FBI and he put a length recommendation and stuck out his neck for her through the application process. The rivalry between the FBI and NCIS was well-known, but Gibbs thought it well-worth helping Liz follow her dreams which she sorely appreciated.

Maybe that was where it started. Aaron read NCIS on her application. Was the rivalry sourcing his distaste for her? Was the lack of experience and suddenly moving up the ranks in NCIS what made him hate her? Whatever it was, she just wanted to get out of this damn forest as quickly as possible.

“Why did you stop?” Liz looked back at him. Her feet did stop moving. Wonder when they did that. “You okay?” He asked another question.

“Yeah. Fine.” She stayed in her spot, turning her head as if she could feel something. Aaron tried to follow her line of sight to no avail.

“Are you sure?” Liz nodded her head, swiveling in place, searching out into the darkness. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She started moving, and Aaron followed close behind her, knowing better than to doubt the instincts of the former sniper. She moved slowly, cautiously, searching and scanning the treeline around her, even in the dark her vision was stark clear.

She stopped again.

Looked to the right.

Put her hand on her gun. She blew all the air out in her lungs, and Aaron drew his gun behind her. Silence was like a knife cutting through the winter wind as she waited. Aaron only had half a second to wonder what she was waiting for before she drew and shot. He looked in the direction of the shot, and found a man on the ground. She rushed over to him, kicking the weapon in his hand away from him, and checking to see where the bullet landed. In the abdomen. A little off from where she intended, but effective enough.

“Shit! The fuck did you do that for?” The man groaned, grasping at his side, still not happy about the gun pointed at his head.

“What are you doing out in the woods in the middle of the night with a gun?”

“I could ask you the same thing! I keep a gun on me for the bears.”

“A handgun is not gonna do anything for the bears.”

“Neither is yours. Again– why the fuck did I get shot?” His breathing was becoming more agonal with every word.

“FBI agents.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. Where’s Max Green?”

“You’ll never find him.”

“You told us we would never find you, and here we are.” He was losing blood fast, and Liz looked around to find something to help. She needed to at least try to keep the bastard alive until they could get out of this godforsaken forest they called a state park. Fucking Colorado. At least she understood why he was killing in the winter months.

She ripped off her jacket, immediately regretting her decision, using it to pack his wound. Aaron raised his eyebrows at her and she seemed to tell him to shut up. He kept his gun trained on the man, refusing to lean down to the level and losing the shot if he tried anything.

“He’ll probably bleed out if we don’t get out of here soon.” She looked around, at the footsteps now being covered in snow. Their tracks would be gone within at least twenty minutes. They needed to move, but where? The footprints would disappear at some point when the snow filled in.

“You know your way around this forest.” She slightly asked him, and he deigned not to answer. “If you want to make it out of here alive, you have to help us get out.”

“Who says I want to get out alive? I get out alive and I go to jail.”

“None of us get out alive and your story doesn’t get told.”

“What story is there to tell? Some abused kid with daddy issues kills gay men to make himself feel better. Boo-hoo same old same old.” Aaron glanced between the unsub and Liz, not sure whether or not to intervene. It felt like the cold was thieving away his brain cells, and he couldn’t fathom actually being okay enough to help at the moment. Liz was no better, trying to conceal her shivering body now bare to the elements from the lack of a coat. Her aim was shaking, and she didn’t know if she could do this much longer. She looked back up at Aaron, pleading with her eyes for some sort of help on how to deal with the situation.

“You’re going to help us. If you don’t, we’re going to leave you out here to have a very slow, painful death. I’m sure the wolves will have fun with you.”

“Go for it. I know you won’t do it. I’m your murderer, so it looks like you’re going to be freezing out here with me tonight.” Liz moved sluggishly towards the man’s pockets, digging around while he protested. She fished out his wallet, and to her magnificent luck, a satellite phone.

“Oh thank god.” She muttered under her breath, trying to use her shaking fingers to type in the number that would connect her with Garcia. It had a low battery, so they only had one shot. She rushed the phone up to her ear, the cold metal shocking her ear, but she held it there desperately waiting for the familiar ringing sound to grace her ears. Luckily, it did. A click told her that the phone was sent to voicemail, and she nearly cried. She just wanted to hear Penelope’s warm voice tell her it was going to be okay, but now she couldn’t even manage that. She made sure to leave a message, hoping that she would look through her answering machine for it.

“Penny, honey, it’s me Liz. Aaron and I are stuck out in the park that we were searching for the unsub for. We found him, but we’re lost and our GPS is in the truck. It’s snowing, and getting dark, and we’re very lost. If you could send the team, or anybody really, to come and find us–it–it would be appreciated. If you can’t, we love you very much. See you soon.” She hung up, hoping that there was at least a little bit of battery left on the phone. She tucked it into her back pocket, and looked through the man’s wallet. Rob Parsons was his name, a Colorado driver’s license, and small pictures of a young boy holding a teddy bear on the other side of the wallet.

She fell back on her ass, relieving the pressure of kneeling on her knees. She moved to train the gun back on Rob’s face, her face more somber than it had been before. She was no stranger to what was about to happen. She had seen it all the time in her previous work paths, soldiers starving to death, lost in the desert, sailors freezing to death in the water, deaths considered horrible and extreme, but unfortunately so common in different areas of the world. She just hated that Aaron had to go through with it too.

When she signed onto the military, it was pretty much given that one of her main outcomes could be dying a horrible death. She had made peace with it years ago, no matter how morbid it had been at that time. It was something talked about as a joke on base, or banned from conversational topics while overseas. Morale of the troops was more important than the reality of the harsh situation. Aaron seemed to have the picture-perfect life to her. At least before Haley passed, he had a beautiful wife and son, a family to go home to at the end of the day instead of a rather bare apartment, with minimal pictures of the people she loved. It helped her when waking up from nightmares to have a bare, calming environment. It reminded her of the barracks, or the small apartment she had shared with Gibbs for a month on assignment.

“We’re not getting out of here, are we?” Aaron asked the dejected Liz, staring at Rob’s face with an empty stare.

“I don’t know.” Rob looked paler by the second, her jacket not doing much to stop the bleeding. It was dark, and the thick tree cover blocked out any natural light from the star-filled sky, and snow fluttered down silently. The only sound was their breathing, and the occasional hiss and groan from Rob across from them. He was going to die soon. So were they.

#aaron hotchner x reader #angst #they are so lost #hotch x reader #i love aaron hotchner

118 notes · View notes

its-all-ineffable · 10 months

Text

The Witcher Season 3, Vol 1 - thoughts

Hi! Me! I just have to make a post because I binged all 5 eps yesterday and I am having thoughts and feelings and I need to get them out somehwere!

Long post ahead!

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR S3 VOL 1 BELOW!!!

So...JASKIER IS BISEXUAL!!!!

AND HAS A BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just...I have so many feelings about this. Like, as a bi person, it means so much to see one of my fave characters be blatantly bisexual on screen! Also, Jaskier has had so much shit recently, and he deserves someone who loves and appreciates him properly, and I am very happy he got that.

I admit, I was worried about Radovid at first, I thought he'd be manipulative and scheming, especially being with Philippa and Dijkstra, but no, he seems like a sweet, kind man. Also, he instantly fell in love with Jaskier and is so fucking whipped for him - he performed his song to him cause he loved it, MY HEART!! Like...they are just the best, and I'm worried the relationship or one of THEM won't survive the season...but for now, HELL YEAH FOR JASKIER X RADOVID!😍🥰

Right - the plot has actually been pretty solid so far, and I'm enjoying it!

Ciri and Jaskier's dynamic is to DIE FOR and I am so happy they seem to be getting along. Would've loved to see the development of the uncle Jaskier and niece Ciri, but that's what fanfic is for I guess! Also, Yen, Ciri and Geralt as a family was fucking adorable.

Hell yeah for Yarpen being back, and for his arc of finally calling Jaskier by his name when Jaskier helped save his people! Also I screeched when Jaskier got shot with that arrow - I genuinely fear he might be killed, though I'm not sure why...🥺😬

GERALT AND JASKIER TRAVELLING TOGETHER, BESTIES HELL YEAH!!!!!🎉 Like, I would like a PROPER apology Geralt (I sigh, and turn to fanfiction, knowing canon will never give that to me), but I am so happy to see them back together. Also, the friendly banter and teasing, the casual affection, the fact that Geralt is actually asking Jaskier to help him and they seem to be super close again, like that is PRECIOUS TO ME!

I would've liked more Yennefer and Jaskier interaction though, I missed them, but hopefully we'll get that in Vol 2, cause we see a Yenskier hug in the teaser!

Geralt is such a dad, and he's been so good with Ciri (mostly) and it warms my heart seeing him be so tender to her. Like, they are just the best! That bit when she jumped on him, and they wrestled playfully?! MY HEART!😍 (Also, RIP original Roach, gone but not forgotten)

Yen and Geralt as a (romantic) relationship have grown on me, I admit, and they had amazing chemistry, especially those last 2 eps, but I am a firm Geraskfer lover (and I love Yenskier and Geraskier seperately too; I started a Geraskier girl though and always will be). Having them at that Ball, and being a power couple was the best though!

Speaking of the Ball, FUCKING STREGOBOR GOT FUCKED UP HELL YEAH FUCK THAT DUDE!!!! I HAVE HATED HIM SINCE S1, SO GLAD HE'S GETTING WRECKED!!!🎉😎 Also, that fucking Vilgefortz twist...I KNEW I DISLIKED HIM FOR A REASON! But that whole thing was so well done, and also, Istredd and Geralt dancing together... I died laughing!!!🤣

Philippa is actaully super interesting and I'd love to know more about her! Seeing Cassie Clare acting more is making me love her though, and I hope she gets to shine again as Mazikeen in Sandman as well. She's so talented.

Ngl, hate Francesca now. She lost her baby yeah, but then she KILLED INNOCENT BABIES AS HER REVENGE? LIKE NO. THAT'S NOT OKAY. That turned me against her, and she's just generally pissing me off, which is a shame cause I really liked her in S2. Glad Fringilla escaped though, wondering when we'll see her again!

Also, is it bad that I kind of shipped Cahir and that elf, Gallatin?🤷‍♂️ Idk, I thought they were cute. Ffs Cahir, killing him?! Also, detour, but, Dara's hair though?! Phenomonal!

Also, so happy to see Jaskier already in four episodes, and we're deffo getting more of him! So glad my boy is getting to do more this season!

Anyway, that's it, for now. I needed to scream about S3!

I'd love to hear other people's thoughts too, through replies to this post and reblogs of it with your thoughts on the reblog or in the tags! Or even in asks or DMs!

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #the witcher spoilers #the witcher season 3 #the witcher season 3 spoilers #my thoughts #had to get them out #long post #basically just thoughts being spewed out #I need to get them out though sorry

15 notes · View notes

sweetdreamsshifter · 2 years

Text

Grudges - Chapter Two (Welcome In)

Newt Scamander x Fem!Magizoologist!Reader

Word Count- 1,807

Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Your Last Name

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

At 10 am sharp, Y/N heard three sharp knocks on her door. She quickly set the notes she had been reviewing down and answered the door, being met with Newt and the group he'd somehow managed to pull together. She was thankful her past self had managed to lease a large apartment while allowing everyone in.

"Hello, my name is Y/N L/N. I suppose you all know Mr. Scamander to some extent, and if he can trust you, I guess I can too." The young woman addressed everyone politely while Newt simply observed. Amazing, he thought, that she could go from miserable to tolerable depending on the people around her. Suddenly the woman you learned was Queenie let out a shocked gasp and turned to Newt, who looked at her in shameful shock.

"Um, hello. My name is Tina Goldstein, Queenie's older sister. We've been working with Newt for a few months now. I believe I've seen you around MACUSA's magizoology department. It's a shame we never met before. I work for the auror department." Tina said to you, causing Y/N to smile. She was glad that Newt's friends didn't seem to dislike her as much as he did. Y/N was then introduced to Theseus Scamander, the kinder of the brothers in her eyes, and a man named Jacob-

"Wait, you invited a no-mag on our mission?!" Y/N shouted at Newt, causing everyone to jump.

"You said to invite who I consider trustworthy. Jacob has been helping us for months now, in fact, he's helped me find and recapture more magical creatures than anyone here-" Y/N dragged Newt out of the living room and into the closest room she could find.

"How dare you risk our mission for your selfish desire to be with your friends. I trusted you to be helpful to this, but you seem to want us in more danger!" Y/N screamed at him after casting a silencing spell on the room.

"I haven't done anything of the sort, in fact, YOU'RE the one who will risk our mission! You can't seem to come across anything that displeases you without screaming and making a scene!" Newt replied, not shouting like the woman pacing around, but clearly angry at her.

"We have a group of people we can work with and trust despite their magical abilities. It's up to you now to work with them or cause more of the fighting our bosses wanted us to avoid." Newt said, making Y/N feel as if she were a child being scolded once again. After a few moments of silence she replied.

"Fine. One no-mag. If he gets even the slightest bit distrustworthy, we obliviate the mission from his mind. Understood?"

"Why not obliviate all of magic from his mind as you're legally supposed to and turn me in?" Newt asked, subconsciously trying to pester the woman even more.

"I might not want to work with him, but I'm not so cruel as to take a friend out of someone's life. I only want everyone to be safe." The girl responded, hurt hidden under her angered face.

"Let's go. We have a mission to figure out." Y/N walked out of the room, a smile on her face and an apology to Jacob for her rude introduction. Newt almost felt he should feel whiplash from how fast Y/N could change her emotions when talking to him and then other people.

Soon, everyone was seated at Y/N's dining table, the information the supervisors gave her and Newt laid out across the table.

"Okay, so, just a recap for my notes; the lethifolds are disappearing in both the USA and England, they always disappear when it's rainy or dark outside, and witnesses have either been killed before they can explain anything or obliviated to forget everything about themselves." Y/N recapped, looking around the group to make sure she was correct, looking at Newt the shortest amount of time.

"Okay, so how should we go about this?" Theseus asks, a hand rubbing his temples with a look of confusion on his face.

"Well, we're constantly getting reports of blackmarket trading at The Passage Brewery on thirteenth street. Maybe we could go there a few nights this week." Tina says suddenly, causing Y/N to smile and nod at her, Queenie soon following her lead while Theseus and Jacob mutter their agreements. Newt, however, keeps quiet and refrains from agreeing. While the others seem to ignore or not notice this, Y/N does.

"Newt, do you have any other ideas of where we can start? I only ask since you didn't seem to agree with Tina's plan." She asks, suddenly drawing attention to him. His face flushes as she tries to hide a smirk at his lack of response.

"We-well I was just considering it still. I don't, um, no, I don't really know what else we can do until it rains…" Newt stammers.

"So it's settled! We'll go tomorrow and Friday for sure. We should all pair up, it would be safest if something happens, and easiest to blend in, worst case scenario." Y/N states, starting to plan out how everyone would pair up and go about the pub. Newt couldn't help but feel jealous of the way she took charge so easily and so quickly. He hadn't realized he was zoning out until he felt a hand shake his shoulder, forcing him from his thoughts.

"Newt, I said that you and I were ordered to stick together, so we'll have to pair up both nights. Is that okay with you?" Y/N asked him quietly. Newt nodded his head, only just realizing that the others had wandered away from the table.

"Oh, shoot, it's 12:27! I was supposed to give Theo his potion at 12, oh I hope he isn't in too much pain. Excuse me, Newt, I have a broken mooncalf ankle to attend to." Y/N quickly stood from the table and opened the purse kept near her feet, climbing through and closing it promptly.

Newt was left in shock. He hadn't realized that other people would enchant bags like him, much less house magical creatures in them. He had been briefed by Mr. McFey and Mr. Beckonfeld about Y/N's history with creatures before she had joined them in the meeting. He knew she worked with magical and non-magical creatures from a young age and that she was the most respected magizoologist in the department head's eyes despite her age and gender. Yet, he was still shocked everytime he was reminded of these facts. It's not often that someone has as much, if not more, knowledge on magical creatures as him. Soon after Y/N disappears into her bag, she reappears, causing Newt to startle out of his thoughts once again.

"Um, I was wondering if I could give you something." She asks, a look of reluctance on her face.

"What is it?" Newt didn't mean to reply as harshly as he did, but he didn't realize until after he saw the shock on her face.

"I was just wondering if you had any sick or injured creatures. I- well- maybe it'd be easier to just show you…" She says, motioning for Newt to follow her into her bag. He does so quickly, taking in the surroundings of her bag.

The interior isn't nearly as large as his, but he's still shocked at the size. Inside is a private workshop. The walls are covered in a pale wallpaper with simplistic flowers, the floors are wooden with rugs scattered along the floors. One wall is entirely bookshelves, and almost every shelf is filled. He chuckles when he realizes you left the top three shelves of each bookshelf untouched as you couldn't reach them. Another wall, the wall across from the entrance, has a door and large window that lead to the outside portion of the bag. He can see a few habitats that seem less detailed than his in the distance and many creatures roaming throughout them. On the wall closest to the staircase entrance is a cauldron and shelves filled with what he assumes are herbs and potion materials, as well as filled and empty bottles. Near the center of the room is a large table covered in markings, potions, feathers, and a few notes. On the final wall, there is a desk covered in notebooks, some thrown open, some closed, some completely torn of their papers. Above the desk is a board Newt can barely see. Before he can further inspect the board, Y/N's voice pulls him towards the cauldron.

"I've been creating a new potion for healing bones. You see, Skele-Gro is extremely painful to the user and takes at least 8 hours to fully grow back a bone, and 3 to fix one. While that might seem reasonable for a person, it's much harder for a creature. I've finally come up with a final potion, but I've only used it twice. So far, it's been successful. I recently rescued a herd of mooncalves who, well, I truthfully don't know what happened to them, they were just left in an abandoned barn I had been passing by, but anyway, there were a few with broken bones. I first gave my potion to one of the calves who had been the worst off, and in a matter of ten minutes, she was back on her feet as if three of her legs hadn't been broken. I got no complaints, no sounds of pain, just a happy baby very quickly. The reason I ask you down here is to give you this." Y/N held up the bottle she had been filling with potion while she talked.

"This might be helpful to you someday. I know you have bigger creatures than I do, so I wanted to give you something that might help them quickly. They only need three drops for it to work. I'd suggest hiding it with a treat as it can't taste too good. While I haven't tested it on a person yet, I intend to use it on myself if something happens on this mission." At this point, Newt was convinced Y/N had forgotten he was there, watching her with amusement as she subconsciously rambled and paced her workshop. Soon, though, a shout from Tina led the two back to Y/N's apartment.

"Y/N? Oh, there you are, I was just wondering where we were to stay. We don't want to invade your privacy or put you in danger-"

"Oh, please stay here! I have more than enough room, and my lease will end soon, so if something happens, I won't be too easy to trace." Y/N replied, closing her bag and carrying it as she and Tina left Newt in the kitchen to deal with the potion Y/N had given him and to remember why he disliked her so much.

#newt scamander fanfic #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #fantastic beasts x reader #fantastic beasts fanfic #fbawtft3 #fbawtft2 #fbawtft #newt scamander x fem reader #grudges fanfic #grudges newt scamander #sweet dreams shifter

94 notes · View notes