#also i did not use all the pieces i gathered and i do in fact have a number of thoughts about a tula and violence web weave
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tula and her journey
(as a note, this is incredibly long so i've put the vast majority of it under a read more. please open it all the way if you want to see the whole thing)
@/atticfish // The Oresteia, Aeschylus // C.S. Lewis // Clearest Blue, CHVRCHES // Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) // I See Boats Moving, Fernando Pessoa // Deep End, Holly Humberstone // The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria Rilke // Tired, beabadoobee // Sarah Kay // Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016, Frank Bidart // (could not find) // Zinaida Gippius // Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides, Anne Carson // Don’t Swallow the Cap, The National // When Did It Happen?, Mary Oliver // Holy Wild, Gwen Benaway // Manhattan is a Lenape Word, Natalie Diaz // Dead Stars, Ada Limón // The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell (1988) // How to Cure a Ghost, Fariha Róisín // @/CrowsFault (twitter) // Spring, Mary Oliver // @/jb-blunk // (could not find) // @/roach-works // Tales From Earthsea: Dragonfly, Ursula Le Guin // Some are Always Hungry, Jihyun Yun // All About Love: New Visions, bell hooks // Notebooks 1951-1959, Albert Camus // @/podencos // The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath // Waiting, Marya Hornbacher // The Summer Day, Mary Oliver // Burrow’s End (2023)
and, as a bonus if you made it this far:
#i said what if i spent two full days ignoring all my other responsibilities and building a 65-piece web weave about a fictional stoat#and this is the result#also i did not use all the pieces i gathered and i do in fact have a number of thoughts about a tula and violence web weave#and a tula and her children web weave#anyway#tula's epilogue made me feel so much and i just had to get it out#burrow’s end#dimension 20#d20#d20 burrow's end#tula burrow's end#web weaving#web weave
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#ocaptainchallenge#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#cod x reader#x reader#implied plus size reader#take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty#but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning#also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing
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Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic (after some time has passed that is) or can be read as a stand-alone.
“Leave me alone human!”
“For someone who is chained to the ground and gravely injured, you’re pretty loud.”
“I’ll rip you from limb to limb.”
“Why don’t you get better first before we get there hmm?”
General Lilia Vanrouge screeched at you in the fae language, some of which you knew were curses. Ah yes, you can’t wait to make fun of your Lilia when you get back to your time. His cursing while playing video games had you easily recognizing some of them now.
Luckily for you and your ears, the General wore himself out. The wounds from the iron and those of the battles weakened him.
It didn’t help that he also had a fever as a result. You were put in this cell to help him recover. Humpty Dumpty- well, King Henrik, implied it was the least you could do.
A random human that was pick up by his men, who was using valuable resources that could go to his soldiers instead. Never mind the fact that you helped treat said soldiers and gather said resources.
The Knight of Dawn had clenched his fist, about to speak up on your behalf. But you simply grabbed his hand and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. King Henrik would just make his life harder for talking back, and you didn’t want that. The Knight of Dawn dealt with enough, you didn’t want to add onto his troubles.
…But you also didn’t realize that meant staying locked up in this cell with General Lilia Vanrouge either.
The General wasn’t exactly happy when he first met you, and you couldn’t blame him. You just weren’t used to the open hatred from familiar eyes you would see everyday. Eyes that were always friendly to you, now burned you.
The first time you tried to provide him treatment, he had fought back until his wounds weakened him to an unconscious state. You had silently treated him then. Not a soul a witness to your tears.
As the weeks passed, the General gradually stopped fighting back, probably due to his weakening state…it didn’t shut his mouth though funny enough.
You were only let out for a change of clothes, a bath, a proper meal, and a bed to sleep in every few days. Even then, King Henrik made it seem as if that was too good for you.
You later found out it was due to the Knight of Dawn’s request that you were even allowed such accommodations. Your heart ached at the idea of what he must have gone through to get you this, as you knew King Henrik did not treat him well.
You breathed softly, you wished you could return home soon.
You were dressing a wound on Lilia when you felt him stir.
“Melea…Le…B…”
You took a wet cloth and wiped his forehead.
He must be dreaming about his family.
You knew all would be well in the future, but that didn’t mean current events didn’t affect you.
It hurt you to see so many struggle in a useless war, due to greed from one man.
Lilia clutched at his stomach, his sharp claw like nails reopening the wounds you had painstakingly bandaged.
You quickly grabbed his hands and sucked in a breath of pain. His nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. His grip could break your bones to tiny, incomprehensible pieces, but you held on.
You knew he wanted to be free and return home, to protect his loved ones. You were determined to heal him for that very reason.
“Damn it Lilia Vanrouge! You will get through this! You have so much to look forward to. So many people who love you! Now, stop being a prick and let me go so I can treat you!”
Surprisingly, he let you go. You ignored your bleeding, aching hands in order to reseal his wound.
“…will you be in that future?”
You froze, turning and looking into feverish eyes.
“Yes.”
General Lilia Vanrouge fell into a deep sleep for the next 10 days.
You were returning to Lilia’s cell when a knife was held to your neck.
“Human, where is the fae you captured?”
Ah, it seems rescue finally arrived for Lilia. It took them long enough.
You looked up into hardened, familiar eyes. Baul Zigvolt would have been a sight for sore eyes if he didn’t, you know, have a knife to your throat.
“I would gladly show you if you take that knife away.”
“You-”
“Besides, I was heading right in that direction. If you don’t want to be caught, you better hurry.”
You continued walking, listening to Baul grumble about frustrating humans. You couldn’t help the slight smile on your face as you remembered similar words said by his grandson.
You led Baul quickly and quietly to the cell that practically became a second home to you. No one in sight. You had noticed, unlike the men that the Knight of Dawn commanded, the men directly under King Henrik were…well, just like him: sleazy and lazy.
They let their guards down thinking The Right General of the Fae was too weak and couldn’t take any of them on. They even implied you were nothing but a sacrificial lamb should said Fae get angry, but of course, they would rescue you at a price.
It took you all you could not to spit in their faces or smash their heads on the wall. The self defense lessons Silver and Sebek taught you provided security that you would forever be grateful for.
It was due to this fatal thinking that Baul was able to infiltrate the base, as the men went to seek entertainment elsewhere.
When you arrived, you opened the cell door quietly so as to not hurt sensitive ears. The sun was high enough for the cell to be well lit.
You heard Baul hiss in anger before rushing to his general’s side. Lilia didn’t seem surprised to see him, telling you how he must have always known rescue would come for him.
“General!”
“Careful! You’ll-”
Baul recoiled from the burns the iron chains struck at him.
“I tried to warn you.” You shook your head. You sat next to Lilia, taking his hand in yours. From the corner of your eye, you could see Baul tense but Lilia motioned for him to remain calm.
You picked at the lock. Another thing to be thankful for, your lock picking skills, which you learned quickly from days you were locked outside of Ramshackle Dorm because Grim forgot the key or the door just wouldn’t open.
“You got it in one go this time.”
“I told you I had surprises up my sleeves. I just needed the right tools.”
“Hmm, so you say.”
Baul looked at both of you as if you both at grown two heads each. Lilia noticed his look and waved towards his feet. Where chains that should have been locked were open.
“Any longer, Baul, and I would have rescued myself.”
Baul stammered before apologizing. You turned away to hide your smile.
Within moments, the atmosphere changed. General Lilia Vanrouge had to escape and return to his men.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“You have to leave. You need to return to your troops."
Lilia clenched his jaw, looking at you. You couldn't return with him; you both knew that. It didn't stop him from trying, but you shook your head before he could even open his mouth.
"I can't go with you."
A human amongst the fae would not last long, at least not now. There was too much hatred.
You took the cuffs that had been his tormentor for so long and locked them around your hands. You chose to ignore the angry growl Lilia tried to hide at the sight of the cuffs now imprisoning you.
"I'll make it look like you escaped, now go."
"They'll hurt you."
You shook your head.
"The Knight of Dawn would never let that happen."
He knew you were right. The Knight of Dawn had visited several times, helping you treat his wounds and restrain him when the fever would have him lash out at you.
The Knight of Dawn had honor, as a fellow general and soldier, Lilia respected him for it. Lilia pulled one of his magic stones off his belt before offering it to you.
"Take this. Smash it to the ground if you need help, I'll find you."
You agreed and watched the two soldiers turn to leave. General Lilia Vanrouge hesitated before speaking, "You told me you would be in my future."
"I will be."
"You better keep that promise, YN."
"I will."
General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt vanished from your sight.
I'll see you both soon.
Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.
Author’s Notes: I can’t believe this became a 1.5k fic, the way this bat fae drives me crazy. 😂💞🌺
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia vanrouge#twisted wonderland x you#twst x you#Lilia Vanrouge x you#lilia x you#lilia x reader#baul zigvolt#twst knight of dawn#general lilia vanrouge#general lilia vanrouve x reader#general lilia vanrouge x reader
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Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to overhear his gn crush saying how they're sure it's unrequited love as much as they love HIM?
OH so soft! yes absoloutely, enjoy!
Astarion
now to be fair. he is a bit smug to overhear that you love him.
but he's also... touched? that you, lovely you, would feel that way about him?
obviously he's been trying to seduce you and everything, but he's pleased to hear that it's worked, but why does he feel so warm? happy?
maybe he waits until a casual moment between the two of you, when he feels like he can confess and it isn't too heavy, and he just lets out a little "I love you too, you know."
you stop. he can hear the way your blood pumps.
"...oh..." your eyes are wide, looking at the floor.
he takes your hand and it makes you look up at him, and then he brings you in for a kiss.
he can feel how relieved you are. and he's so happy to be part of something real, something requited.
Gale
overhears you and wants to say something about it immediately, but won't interrupt in person...
so he just uses a Sending instead.
"I hope you don't mean that, because I am desperately in love with you. only a fool wouldn't be."
you freeze and your eyes flit over to where he's standing, face as open as a book with his love for you.
you excuse yourself from your conversation and he follows, seeing how embarrassed you are, you tell him he wasn't meant to hear you, you just had to get it off of your chest...
he takes your hand and pulls you in for a long kiss. if you won't believe his words, maybe you'll believe his actions.
you melt into him. just melt, and the two of you stay together like that.
longest that Gale's been quiet for ages...
Wyll
he does interrupt, because he can't stand to hear you talk about yourself like that.
asks for a private word.
takes you to a seculded location and sees how uncomfortable you are, tilts your chin up to look him in the eyes, wants you to see the sincerity when he speaks.
"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did not love you. I do, in fact. most ardently."
he will tell you about the moment that made him fall in love with you, all the things you do that make him fall a little deeper every day.
as he speaks he watches the way your body relaxes, your eyes get hopeful.
when he finishes speaking you press your lips to his in a kiss, and it's the sweetest first kiss imaginable.
Halsin
he's an old elf at this point. he hasn't got the patience to let you wallow in uncertainty.
if he hears you say you love him, and he feels the same, he will let you know immediately.
finds an excuse to have the two of you be together. maybe to gather firewood.
when you're alone he will instigate physical contact - brushing your hair out of your face or something like that
when you respond positively, he will move to cup your face, look properly into your eyes.
"my heart. I need you to know that whatever you feel for me, it is reciprocated a hundred times over. you make my blood stir in a way I had quite forgotten..."
you should kiss him now. he will return it. the two of you will spend some time alone together in the forest, getting to know each other more intimately...
Dammon
oh, Dammon. he's so shocked.
him? you love him?
wants to make a big gesture but doesn't know how. probably asks Karlach for advice.
in the end he smiths you a special piece of jewellery and gifts it to you the next time you're together alone. maybe he even invites you on a date specially!
he tries to get to the point about how he feels but rambles on... eventually you reach out to hold his hand and it gives him courage...
he gives you the jewellery and sees your eyes light up. he offers to put it on you. fingers linger on your skin.
"you know, I lov..." "I know, Dammon. I know."
you can't stop beaming. he's never been happier.
Rolan
annoyed!
why can't you just be upfront with him about this! he obviously loves you back!
oh... loves you? hmmm. that's news to him. but of course he does! you're brilliant! how can't you see that?
has a couple of drinks one night for courage and then goes to find you. it is not an eloquent confession.
"I overheard you the other day! and I want you to know I feel the same way! about you! love, that is >:("
you stand there, fucking bamboozled, before dragging him in by the collar for a kiss.
he smiles so hard and you can feel it as your lips meet.
"silly boy," you sigh, fondly, and kiss him again before he can complain.
Zevlor
another old man who doesn't want to waste time.
he loves you. of course he loves you. there's no point hiding it, if there's a chance the two of you can be happy.
when he has a spare, quiet moment with you, certain nobody can overhear, he speaks sincerely.
"i do not know what I could offer which would make me worthy of your love, but I swear I will work every day until I am."
oh, he is so sweet. you collapse into his arms for a kiss. your strong, brave paladin <3
#Zevlor x reader#zevlor bg3 x reader#Zevlor x tav#dammon x reader#damon bg3 x reader#Dammon x tav#rolan x tav#rolan x reader#rolan bg3 x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#Gale of waterdeep x tav#Astarion x reader#astarion x tav#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#wyll x tav#wyll x reader#wyll ravengard x reader#my writing#Long post#bg3 imagine#Gale x reader#Gale x tav
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Get Off My Screen!
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: I'm doing this cuz someone wanted to see my shitposty idea hahaha, I hope it's not too OOC but oh well- I hope someone could write a proper fic with this since I don't trust my writing much HAHAHAHA
A/N: I'll also be doing this from the reader's POV for now. Just message me or request if you wanna see Vox's POV since it might be too long if I include his thingy in this post XD
College life is fun, do doubt about that; from the parties to the friends you make- it truly was unforgettable.
Even if you did study a lot, wanting to get high marks- you had time to indulge every once in a while and goof off with friends.
It made you a star student on paper- but nearly bordering troublesome with your chaotic behavior.
You were lucky to never have been caught with their shenanigans.
But of course your friends just had to push it.
A new ghost hunting hype trend surfaced online and they were convinced that they had to get into it.
You said it was a bad idea, getting into stuff you didn't know.
Your friends brushed you off and all piled into the attic of your parents' home.
Of course, your parents were more than happy to explain some things before leaving your group to their devices.
They've been messing with the... "paranormal" for most of their lives.
You just chose not to believe it.
It wasn't like there was proof aside from heresay anyways.
Your friends proceed to mess with the ouija board they found, among other probably possessed things.
You found it all way too creepy to be honest.
Especially that old CRT TV that was just sitting in the corner.
It was an old thing you remembered using, but it always glitched and stuttered when you were a kid.
Even if there wasn't actually anything wrong with it according to the technicians that tried to fix it over the years.
Your friends started screaming before you could really reminisce.
"WHO'S MOVING IT?!"
"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING-"
"IT'S MOVINNGGGGGGG-"
The fact the ouija board was actually reacting slightly freaked you out.
You managed to calm your friends from bombarding the thing with questions before asking what actually mattered.
"What's your name?"
V... O... X...
That didn't sound like a demon name you were even vaguely familiar with, at least off the top of your head.
Then of course that creepy TV from your childhood turned on by itself.
Your friends were screaming bloody murder at this point.
You didn't even realize the fuss until you saw the darn thing was unplugged.
You freaked out too, bolting down the attic stairs with your friends quickly in tow.
It was smooth sailing afterwards, your parents assuring you that nothing would happen.
Your friends stayed for dinner until they had to go.
You were about to retire for the night as well until you realized you couldn't find your phone.
Everywhere you looked, it wasn't there.
That left one place.
The attic.
By the time you gathered the courage to return, everything seemed just fine.
The TV was finally turned off, how and why- you didn't bother enough to know.
So you picked up your phone off the floor and just headed to your room.
Only to practically get jumpscared when you opened your phone.
WHO PUT A FRIGGIN WEIRD GLITCHY SMILEY ON YOUR WALLPAPER?!
Annoyed, you switched it back before plugging it into the charger.
Come morning, you had a bone to pick with your lot of friends.
Because not only was your phone stuck with the wallpaper problem, soon were all your devices.
You tried everything, restarting your stuff, running an antivirus, even getting it professionally checked.
Nothing.
And the problem continued to persist.
Now at your wits' end, you figured whatever entity was messing with your gadgets could at least converse with you through said gadgets.
So you opened a blank notepad on your laptop, nearly glaring at the screen while waiting for something to happen.
Five minutes passed and nothing happened.
"OH YOU CRAPPY PIECE OF TECH JUST DO SOMETHING!"
Even more waiting and still nothing.
Eventually you just decided to type something up on the notepad in impatience.
"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."
And to your surprise, something finally replied.
"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."
What. The. Fuck.
And that was how you met him.
Vox, the tech overlord demon, months ago.
When he infected your phone, then consequently the rest of your electronics too.
Since then he's been an annoying thorn in your side.
Well... or even a welcome distraction.
Maaaaybe even an odd Omegle Buddy?
Who even still does those?
Either way, you never had to use spellcheck again whenever doing your work.
Nor did you consult Google as often either.
As rude and annoying as he was, Vox was quite helpful when it came to paperwork.
Not that you didn't know much about him, on some days you would both just chat using the notepad.
He hated some radio guy named "Alastor"?
You would laugh if you weren't so tired.
Depending on Vox's mood, he was either tolerable or a downright prick.
Fighting over control of the cursor was also pretty common occurrence.
Vox practically living in your gadgets forced you to learn at least basic software care and programming.
The guy also ended up sorting your files!
You'd be more thankful if he wasn't so bitchy about your file arrangement anyway.
It wasn't that bad.
You want to call him your virtual friend- but he's more like an annoying virus that throws hissy fits from time to time.
Even if said hissy fits were either excessive amounts of lag or mostly obstructive visual glitches and pop ups.
The little shit was also constantly messing with you during class.
Not that he cared enough even if you told him you were, he'd still be messing with your notes or even your files every now and then.
You stopped trying to change wallpapers after you realized he kept switching them back to his grinning face.
Let's not even mention his multitude of custom emojis stuck in your device.
How that got there, you didn't care enough to figure out.
What a weirdo.
Though him constantly interacting with your software gave you an idea.
You saw your friend fawning over a thing called a "desktop pet" just a little ago in class.
They chose to get a virtual slime.
It piqued your interest after you saw it was interactive too.
And knowing that Vox liked to mess with your operating systems a lot, you decided to try and get one to see what he'd do.
You got the basic one, just a random anime "chibi" or so it was labeled on the website.
It walked around and did some emotes before a notepad opened up with a message.
"What the fuck is that."
"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"
You didn't get a reply so you just left to grab a snack.
You weren't even surprised with what you came back to.
Vox was already using the cursor to bully the desktop pet you downloaded.
Either throwing it around or just repeatedly spam clicking it so it fell over.
The sonova bitch-
You kind of expected it, just leaving Vox to do his thing while you went to take a nap.
Only, you didn't realize you would be coming back to a new custom desktop pet and an open note.
"You're welcome~"
If that was what Vox looked like, you couldn't deny it was cute.
Or at least the small desktop pet made it seem so.
It was a striking design for sure-
Did he have a monitor for a head??
Oh that explains the face on your screen wallpapers.
You didn't realize until too late that Vox could interact with you using the desktop pet either.
Sometimes the things he did were cute with it, like the emotes that were installed on the thing.
Or he was just a little shit closing your windows or dragging them off screen before you could notice and stop him.
He was an annoying bastard-
But you kept him around anyways.
A/N: I really had fun writing this thing, it hasn't gone romantic since I didn't know if I wanted it to go that route so this is more of a friendly thing? Either way I might write Vox's POV sooner or later this was a really fun idea HAHAHAHA
A/N: Vox's POV is here!! :3
#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox#x reader#Get Off My Screen Series
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Was reading through your torture tag and noticed a lot of stuff that was being said seemed to contradict things that were said on the scripttorture blog... do you have any suggestions on how to clear things up? Im not sure which things to trust
And you're asking us, because they've posted once in the last two years?
I'll admit, I have a fairly low opinion of them, and that's not directly their fault. For years, one of their fans, would regularly send some pretty incendiary asks our way. In fact, some of the less hostile ones were answered, and may be the posts you were looking at. Understandably, the ones simply accusing us of being torture apologists, demanding we redirect all our asks to their blog, or insisted that we should sit down and shut up, did not make the cut. With that in mind, please understand, I'm not going to go digging through their blog to refresh my memory, so some of this might be slightly skewed by the aforementioned deranged fan.
Look for the blog that does not constantly contradict or misrepresent their authoritative sources. Which is to say, if you actually pay attention to Shane O'Mara's work, it's basically what we've been saying all along.
If you're unfamiliar, O'Mara is a Neurologist who was (last I time I checked) working at Trinity College Dublin. He published a, frankly fascinating piece, called, Why Torture Doesn't Work, in which, he set about trying to answer why torture is an ineffective tool for intelligence gathering. O'Mara also had the misfortune of being the only expert who said anything close to the perspective Scripttorture wanted on torture.
An open secret about torture is that it is completely worthless for getting accurate information. This has been widely understood for centuries, if not millennia. O'Mara's question was, “why?”
It turns out, that the neurochemical trauma associated with torture, seriously interferes with your ability to accurately access information. For example: If you're being tortured, you can't tell your torturer where you planted the ticking bomb, because your brain literally can't access those memories.
Torture is evil. Yeah. No shit.
And, this is where ScriptTorture stops. “Torture is bad,” and Jack Bauer is an incredibly unrealistic fantasy, end of story.
Except, this is not the end of this.
Now, generally speaking, I don't blame anyone who wants to get off the ride here. Torture is an unpleasant subject, and wanting to stop at, “oh, it's evil,” is entirely reasonable... unless you want to write on the subject, or if you do political analysis and need to understand why people break out the torture implements.
More than that, this is where my academic background in political science actually comes into play. I'm not saying this as an Eagle Scout who had a couple overly enthusiastic hand to hand instructors when I was a kid. This is (part of) what I studied in college, and I have kept an eye on it since then.
If torture didn't work, you wouldn't see state-sponsored torture pop up repeatedly throughout history. It would not be one of the favorite tools of dictators and despots. However, because it does, and it is, simply saying, “it doesn't work,” isn't instructive or meaningful because it's clearly untrue. Someone is finding value in this, so it becomes important to understand what they are doing, and why they are doing it.
When you torture someone, the information they provide is basically madlibs of whatever leaked through their brain. They want the pain and stress to stop, and they'll say anything they can to make that happen. That often takes the form of what they think their torturer wants to hear. O'Mara's research does explain why they don't simply cough up the truth.
So, why do it?
Torture is a very labor intensive process. You (as an individual) can't, realistically, torture multiple victims at a time, and it is a very drawn out process. Some elements can be automated, your torturer doesn't need to be present at every moment, but they're going to spend hours, if not days, working on one victim. Worse, this is actually a technical profession. It's not like you can just pull in anyone off the street and get the results you want. (Though, technically, this doesn't seem to be as true, however, amateurs do have a shocking capacity to screw up torture. So, the point remains valid.)
The value of torture has almost nothing to do with the victim. It's about the message it sends to everyone else.
Torture is about mass coercion of the population. When you are the state (meaning, the government), and you torture someone, you are telling your citizens that you are willing to do the same to them, if they oppose you.
State-sponsored torture is specifically a tool to suppress political engagement. It is, quite literally, state-sponsored, domestic terrorism.
This even holds true in cases where the state employs torture to extract confessions from criminal suspects. The message sent into the general population is that dissent of any kind will not be tolerated, and that the state has the willingness and power to turn these tools on you if you draw their ire.
I get that this is outside of ScriptTorture's area of expertise, and in fairness, I probably would not have studied this with any intensity, if I hadn't taken multiple classes on revolutionary theory.
Torture from private organizations (which is to say, organized crime, and religious institutions, though cults and some other groups might fit this description as well), follows roughly similar patterns. These tend to do the same things, discouraging dissent, and establishing the organization as having power over the population (or community.) (The technical term would be to “establish capacity.” Which is to say, the organization's capacity to enforce its will. The same term applies to states, though in those cases, the state's capacity is often overestimated by its population. It's only when it starts to falter, for example through military defeats or serious civil unrest, that they really need the capacity boosting part of this equation.)
Zealotry or stupidity can create situations where you have a torturer (or, more likely, someone in a position of power ordering the torture) who believes that it is effectively compelling the truth from the victim. This (or amateurs) can easily lead into a distinct problem, which is that all of this has diminishing returns. Torture one person, and you send a loud, clear message. Torture ten, and all you've added to it is that you're willing to keep going. However, as you start stacking up the victims, you do start sending a new message to your enemies, that being, you're going to get to them sooner or later so it's in their best interest to respond now, mobilize and retaliate proactively, before you get to them. This means that a state which leans heavily on torture can easily instigate the civil unrest that exposes their limited capacity leading to a political death spiral. Alternately, if the state does have the capacity to put down the resulting unrest, it further reinforces their position (which does happen with depressing frequency in the real world.)
You're also going to create new enemies in the friends, family, and loved ones, of the people you tortured. This means that any organization that relies on extensive use of torture will, eventually, start tying a noose around its own neck. (Granted, there are a lot of social dynamics that I'm skimming over here, so it's not exactly as simple as “if the state tortures lots of people, it will result in increasing unrest.”)
If you want a partial citation for the above, you can (ironically) find it in a podcast interview with Shane O'Mara, when he explained why torture has been employed repeatedly through history. (Specifically I think it was episode 15 of Your Welcome, by Michael Malice. Though, I'm not 100% sure off hand.) Though that doesn't cover some of the more in depth elements I just discussed. Some of this is coming from a textbook on revolutionary theory I can't locate (it disappeared in a move a few years back.) Though that was more interested in the general structure of a state destabilizing into internecine conflict. Ironically, my preferred citation on torture, Fear up Harsh by Tony Lagouranis is mostly uninformative in this case, because his experiences were on the ground, rather than from a structural understanding of what his job was really doing. However, he does illustrate my comment about amateurs making even more of a mess, both through personal experiences with a few, and also through the eventual trajectory of the invasion and occupation of Iraq.
But of course, torture is evil... again, no shit. Was that really a question? And, I'm apparently a torture apologist for having a structural understanding of why evil people do evil things. Cool. Evil people don't do evil things because they're evil, they do them because they gain some tangible benefit from those acts, and they do not care about the consequences to anyone else. If you ask someone, “why do people do this?” and their answer is, “it's simple; they're evil,” that person is lying. They may be lying to themselves, but they are lying to you.
Why do people use torture? It's a lot more complicated, and unpleasant, than you'd expect at a simple overview.
-Starke
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Frill Skirt Tutorial
Here's a tutorial for making a lolita skirt with a fully elastic waistband.
Recommended background reading:
How to pick quilt prints for use in lolita fashion.
And here's some things I've previously said about this project.
We're going to make some skirts that look like this. This is a really fun project because you can use a lot of quilt prints, and fully elastic skirts are comfortable and flexible wardrobe pieces.
In this skirt, my pink striped fabric is "Skirt", and the navy with the shoes is "frill". The black lace at the bottom of the skirt is the hem lace, and the lace with the pink ribbon is the transition lace.
You can use the same fabric for the frill and the skirt, making it look more like the skirts referenced above. If you use different fabric for the frill and the skirt, it's is a little bit like faking a border print.
Here's some cutting dimensions. Please excuse the fact that I forgot to turn off "emulate brush dynamics".
Because this is elastic, we're going to be basing the sizes off how much fabric you cut. When you're working with a big, gathered rectangle, you have a lot of options for how much ease you're going to put in the garment.
I forgot to list it, but these skirts really look better when they're lined with a slippery lining fabric. For lining, you just need the "skirt" measurement. For size 1, you need 23" of lining, or 2/3 of a yard.
For size 2, you're going to want 36" of lining, or one yard.
All these sizes include some fabric for extra things like bows and hair accessories. I highly, HIGHLY recommend getting into the habit of making matching accessories as part of the project of making a lolita garment. You're going to need them anyway, so they might as well match.
For size 3, you will want 40" of lining fabric, or 1 + 1/8 yards.
All of these sizes assume that you're using 45" wide fabric. If you're using 60" fabric, you can likely go down a size. (This would be max hip of 52" for size 1, 82" for size 2, and 172" for size 3).
For any view, you will also need enough 1/4" or 3/8" elastic to go around your natural waist (or wherever you wear your skirt) about 4 times. Let's be honest, we all have a massive roll of 1/4" elastic hanging around from making covid masks, so let's use it up.
These skirts are a little bit on the shorter side, because that's just how Meta releases them. Since you're the one making the skirt, you can make some decisions. If you're tall, want to wear a fuller petticoat, or are building a skirt for a substyle where you usually want a longer skirt, you can add a few inches. You'll get a slightly different look if you're lengthening the skirt versus lengthening the frill, versus lengthening both equally. If you're not sure, now's a good time to check out lolibrary and look for dresses and skirts and see where they place the details around the hem. Lolibrary lets you search by brand, so search by brand and just take a note of what you see most often in pieces that you like.
For example, Alice and the Pirates often has the hem detail to be pretty close to the hem on their solid pieces, while Baby the Stars Shine Bright will have the detail going up quite a bit higher. (Please do more than the 10 seconds of searching that I did to get these examples). Therefore, if you want to lengthen the skirt and have a slightly more AatP tone, you can add the length to the skirt part of the skirt, and if you want a slightly more BtSSB tone, you can add the length to the frill part.
Researching your garments is the secret to having handmade garments that actually read as lolita fashion. Lolita fashion history is documented to an extent that no other fashion I've ever heard of is, and it really helps to take advantage of that extraordinary resource.
With our pattern ready and maybe lightly adjusted, let's get to work:
Foundational fact #1: fabric that rips will rip in a straight line along the grain of the fabric. Our skirt is made entirely of rectangles, so we're going to take advantage of that fact. If you want to cut your fabric with scissors, or with a rotary cutter, you're completely allowed to. If you don't have a serger with a functional cutting blade, you might want to cut it so that you don't need to trim the edges. I have a serger and I like to rip it. It might not be the best way, but it's how I've been making my lolita skirts since 2011, and I don't like change and I do like the stress-relieving experience of ripping.
So, lay your fabric out, and mark your cutting lines. If you're ripping the fabric, like I am, you just need to cut a little snip to get the tearing started.
This pattern factors in a half inch for seam allowance. If you're ripping the fabric, you will lose a little bit of usable fabric, so add yourself an extra inch to each cut.
Take your nice straight cuts/rips and lay them out in an organized fashion. You should have a frill pile, a skirt pile, a waistband pile, and an extra pile. If you like piles, you can also pile up your lace next to it.
You're going to sew every pile together so that you have each it its own long strip. Your lining (white fabric) should be the same size as your skirt piece. If it's longer (if you're using 45" quilt fabric for the face and 60" lining fabric for the lining), go ahead and trim them so they're the same total length in the long dimension.
Put the skirt on top of your lining and sew the top edges together.
You'll notice that this skirt is made up in doubles. The skirt is twice the long dimension as the waistband, and the frill is twice the long dimension of the skirt. This makes things easy to gather up.
If you're not using an overlocker to assemble this skirt, you will also want to run some kind of seam finish on the long ends of this skirt, to stop fraying.
(please pardon my hypermobile thumb)
A lot of people do gathering stitches by sewing two lines of basting stitches, and then pulling the thread on those stitches to cinch up the gathers. This does work really well on small things. However, as the amount that you need to gather gets longer and longer, it's gets more and more difficult to pull those threads without them breaking. Instead, I like using an applied gathering string. My current favorite string is waxed dental floss. Most dentists recommend unwaxed floss since it grabs more plaque, so make the smart decision and retire your waxed floss to be in your sewing box.
If you are making this project on a serger or an overlocker (and this is a GREAT first serger project), you can overlock over the dental floss. Here you can see the white floss going between the two needles. The needles are not going through the floss, just on either side of it. Tip: that little hole in the front of the presser foot is actually intended for you to put elastic or thread through so you don't need to hold it as carefully. I forgot and so I didn't do that here).
We're applying the dental floss onto the top edge of the ruffle.
If you aren't using an overlocker, you can do some form of hem finish (my favorite is the 3-step zigzag) and then apply the dental floss by doing a zigzag over it. Again, the needle isn't going through the floor, just on either side of it.
Now, pin your ruffle onto your skirt. I divide the ruffle and skirt up into equal portions, and then pin it first. My ruffle is twice the long measure as the skirt is, and they're both cut out of the same width of fabric. This means that dividing the ruffle up is pretty easy, because I can use the seams of the ruffle. The first seam in my ruffle goes halfway between the edge of the skirt and its first seam. The second seam of my ruffle goes on the first seam of my skirt, and so on.
Then, you just pull your dental floss so that it gathers up the fabric, and pin it down. Since we divided the fabric up earlier, we don't need to spend as much fight getting all the ruffles to be even. Go ahead and pin everything down, and then sew it together.
Now you're going to fold the skirt and lining in half to seam it all together. Match up your seams, and unfold your lining (see picture). This will let you sew the frill, the skirt, and the lining all together in one go.
The easiest time to put the hem and transition laces on is before you attach the waistband. The basic rule with gathered skirts is that it's a lot easier to apply anything flat that you can before you gather it.
In a lot of older lolita tutorials, a lot of people treated lace as optional. However, now that it's not 2007 anymore, we have a bit more of an expectation for detail in the garments we wear. Quilt cotton especially has a very flat texture, even when it has a nice print. If you can add a bit of texture and detail, you want to do so. If you're doing the skirt and the ruffle out of the same fabric, you can probably get away without using the transition lace, but you will still want hem lace.
I didn't have any lace when I was making this one, so I used a couple of lines of decorative topstitching between the skirt and the frill. I got the idea from this blog post from 2010. I didn't execute it as well as Lolita Noveau did, but that was the general concept.
Anyway, waistband time.
Take the edges of your waistband and press them in. You don't need to apply a seam finish before you do this. I have overlocking on mine because I ripped my fabric, and used the serger to clean up the edge. If you don't rip your fabric like a savage and use technology like scissors instead, you don't have that problem.
Fold your waistband in half. It's now time to sew the elastic channels.
Here's the secret to this waistband. Start out by stitching a line about 3/16" away from the fold in your waistband.
When you put your elastic in, this little line of stitching makes your waistband stay on straight, and adds a tiny ruffle to the top. I picked this up from the Metamorphose frill skirts, and it's amazing.
After you've made that line of stitching, start making channels for your elastic. Add about 1/8" of width from the width of your elastic (so 1/4" elastic, sew your channels at 3/8". 3/8" elastic, sew your channels at 1/2"). Leave a space for you to be able to actually put the elastic in. Don't forget this, or you'll have to redo it. Ask me how I know. I found that three channels works pretty well. Don't sew the channel closest to the edge, because you need to attach your skirt.
You're going to need to gather the top of your skirt, just like you gathered the top of your frill. Get your dental floss and your zigzag stitch ready.
Your waistband (flat) will be twice the length of your skirt, so you can pin and pull the gathers just like you did for the ruffle.
So this part is important: You are going to sew the right side of a single thickness of the waistband onto the wrong side of the skirt. I don't have a good picture of this, but here goes trying to explain it.
You need to sew the waistband so that the top seam of the skirt (the part that's sewn to the lining) is sandwiched between the front and back of the waistband. You are going to have your edges of the waistband turned under to hide the raw edge.
While you CAN do this by just putting the top of the skirt edge into the waistband seam and sew it down, you can make it look prettier by doing it like this:
You sew the right side of a single thickness of the waistband to the wrong side of the skirt. This means that, when you unfold it, the seam will be pointing outward, towards the viewer. This feels like it would look bad.
You then press that seam so that it's flat, and then wrap the front of the waistband to the front of the skirt. You tuck the raw edges into the waistband, so that they're all sandwiched between the back and the front of the waistband. You then sew the front of the waistband down from the front.
What this does is it allows you to have very precise control of where your final line of topstitching is. If you've ever sewn a skirt facing and been told to stitch the back of the facing by doing a stitch-in-the-ditch, this is like that but in reverse. It's the same process, but with the top stitching definitely showing.
Anyway, you can now cut your elastic to your waist measurement (or maybe about an inch shorter than your waist measurement) and start feeding it through your elastic channels. Since you're using such thin elastic, it helps to have negative ease (which is the technical name for "cut it smaller because it'll stretch) in your elastic measurements. Start by putting in the elastic at the top casing, and go down.
Sew your elastic ends together when you're done, and there you go! If this is your first lolita garment, congrats! See if Wunderwelt Closet Child has a blouse in your size that goes with your skirt, because they ship fast and some items are really discounted. 42lolita is a lolita-themed taobao reseller that's easy to shop. Basically just don't overpay from devilinspired. If you're going to have to wait crazy long lead times anyway, you might as well be not spending their big marked up prices.
Finish up any little last things, like threading the ribbon through your beading lace, if you used it.
Anyway, now you have a skirt! Yay. Make yourself several and learn how colors, prints, scale, and texture work with each other.
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dear autumn / jeon wonwoo
➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)
➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au
➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍🏻♀️) // playlist🎶
➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think
➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf
In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what.
Alternatively,
He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.
Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.
They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.
They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.
He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so.
It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.
The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.
Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.
He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.
It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.
Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.
Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.
Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.
…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.
Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.
It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself.
He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…
“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.
“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”
“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”
“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”
“Got it.”
Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.
“Are you throwing this away too?”
Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.
“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.
Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.
Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.
And maybe…
Maybe he’ll also–
“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”
Yeah.
Maybe.
Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.
The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.
By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight.
Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.
So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.
And he doesn’t mind.
He really doesn’t.
But if there’s anything he could wish for…
He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.
Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.
He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.
I hope I can find you… whoever you are.
He dreams of another memory that night.
But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.
He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.
Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.
Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.
It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.
He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.
Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.
So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.
Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.
It’s all just practical.
But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.
Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.
Memories.
Because no matter what–
“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.
Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.
What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.
At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs, still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.
Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.
He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.
Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.
Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.
Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.
He blinks.
Why… had he not considered that before?
Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–
“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”
Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.
“Autumn?”
Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.
It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.
And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.
Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.
“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”
You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.
Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.
“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.
The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.
“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name.
Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?
You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.
On Soulmates: Love without Commitment
Xu Minghao
You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.
“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”
“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”
You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.
“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”
You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.
“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”
Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”
“Fate and destiny?”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’s bullshit.”
He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.
“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”
He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.
“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”
“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”
Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.
“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.
What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.
It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.
You shrug, not offering any explanation.
He doesn’t press.
“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”
You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.
You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.
You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.
Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.
You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.
You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.
You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.
It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.
There was nothing magical about it.
You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.
Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?
What a fucking drama you live in.
“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”
“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.
You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.
You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.
You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)
But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.
The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.
He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.
Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?
You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.
“Should we go out?”
“Where?”
“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.
Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?
His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.
No.
He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.
That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before.
Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.
You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.
“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes.
His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.
“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow. “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.
Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.
It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.
He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.
Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks.
“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.
“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.
“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”
You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face.
But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.
He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.
Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.
Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.
Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.
“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”
Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.
“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”
“Two is fine.”
“And the usual drink?”
“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”
You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.
Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.
Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.
Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.
What the fuck.
“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”
You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.
“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.
“Hey, I–”
Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.
He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.
But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.
He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.
What even is the situation?
He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.
It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.
Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.
What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.
He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.
He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.
He doesn’t even know that was possible.
Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.
But he knows he’s not that special.
He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.
Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.
Is this the work of the universe too?
Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.
You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.
It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.
Wonwoo has always liked the number three.
Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.
It’s fun.
Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city.
He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.
So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.
Anyway.
He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.
He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.
It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.
He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.
Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).
Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.
Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.
He doesn’t ask.
“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”
Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.
“What kind of bar?”
“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”
“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.
Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.
The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week.
After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.
Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.
The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.
It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.
They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.
“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”
Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.
A subtle one, though.
“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”
“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”
He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.
And she still has to be friends with him.
He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.
Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.
Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.
“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”
Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.
“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”
Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.
“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”
She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.
“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.
Even if it’s only a little.
“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”
Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.
“Sucks to be us.”
It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.
“Sucks to be us.”
His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.
Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?
He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.
How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.
Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.
Fuck, he’s down bad.
In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.
He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.
That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.
“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”
He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.
Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.
“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.
He needs to get away.
“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.
“Are you by yourself?”
“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”
You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.
“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.
It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.
“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”
He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”
It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.
Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.
Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?
But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread.
“Here, have this.”
That’s why. You think to yourself.
Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.
You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.
“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”
He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.
Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.
The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.
You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.
“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”
“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”
He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”
“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”
He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?
“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”
You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”
His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.
“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.
“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”
“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.
“They’re too… cheesy.”
“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”
“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.
“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all.
He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.
But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.
So he lets go.
Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you.
Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.
This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.
He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.
“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.
“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”
“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.
“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.
Because you don’t know.
You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.
Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.
But you were never that excited.
It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.
“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”
Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.
“Sorry?”
“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”
You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud.
You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.
But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend.
So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.
Yeah.
That’s how you’ll go down this road.
“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”
“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.
“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”
You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.
And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.
Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.
What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying.
It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?
He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.
It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you’re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.
“Won–”
“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”
“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline.
“But your soul–”
“Wonwoo, please?”
It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.
It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?
It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be.
The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.
It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.
It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.
You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?
“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”
He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.
“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”
Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.
“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”
True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.
“Here, drink this.”
“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.
But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?
“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.
“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.
He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”
Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.
Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.
He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.
But you?
You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.
How would you feel if you knew?
Would you freak out?
Would you hate him for hiding it?
Would you think he was planning something against you?
Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?
“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”
Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.
“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”
It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?
“Did you… know me in your past life?”
Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“As honest as you can be.”
“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”
“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.
“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.
It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.
“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”
It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.
You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.
It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it.
The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.
And then there was that dream.
Wait.
Right, that dream.
Is that dream…?
“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”
It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.
“H–how?”
“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”
“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”
“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”
“I see…”
You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.
Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?
You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.
You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.
“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.
“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”
“But–”
“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”
“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”
“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.
“Do you love me?”
Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.
“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”
“Do you love me?”
“Look–I…”
“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”
Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.
“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other.
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?
You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.
“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”
“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”
“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.
“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also.
“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.
Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.
“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”
You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.
“So what do you suppose we should do?
“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”
“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”
Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.
For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?
But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.
You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.
Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.
You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.
When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.
He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.
“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”
Wonwoo waits.
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.
There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.
He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.
He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.
But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.
Like his dreams.
Like his memories.
He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.
The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.
Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.
The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.
You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.
“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest.
“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”
“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.
He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.
Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.
“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”
Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him.
But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.
You couldn’t.
That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.
“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.
“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head.
“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”
“Wait–burning?”
“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.
“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”
The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.
“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.
“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”
“No pain, at all?”
You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.
“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”
“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”
“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”
“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”
Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder.
“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”
You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.
“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.
It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”
From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.
How could Joshua say that in his position?
For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.
But where does this leave the two of you now?
“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”
You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.
“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”
“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.
“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.
“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?
“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”
“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime.
“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”
“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”
“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”
He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.
“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.
Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.
“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.
“What have?”
“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”
“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”
He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.
“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”
“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.
It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.
“Are we really doing this?”
“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”
You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.
“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”
“I’m really–”
“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”
“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”
Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.
“Fuck the universe, indeed.”
It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.
Wonwoo grins.
His Autumn is finally here.
©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.
permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq @fr0g-filez @nvmbheart
pls tell me if you wanna be removed btw it's totally ok, no hard feelings!!
A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕
#caratwritersclub#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#seventeen fic#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenario#seventeen au#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo au#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines
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Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D
Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.
As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.
all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D
Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D
And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.
Let us begin, shall we!
Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.
Probably because in technicality, he failed.
I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.
Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.
Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.
Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.
Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.
All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.
I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.
You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.
Justice for the windy boy.
God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.
And now we get Time.
The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.
He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.
Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.
This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.
now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.
first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.
The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.
Makes me think about what exactly he saw.
And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.
And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.
The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.
Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.
I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.
oh and also
THE SCARF
THE SCARF THE SCARF
IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.
None of us did, Hyrule.
The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.
Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.
The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.
Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.
He knows.
Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.
did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.
And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D
Also
Mandatory Sky appreciation picture
Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl
Anyway moving on
Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).
We saw what just Time could do.
Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.
Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.
(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)
It's basically Revalis Gale.
This man is so damn dramatic I love him
And here's the parallel frame
the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.
You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.
But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.
ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY
The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)
Also that last frame.
TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?
time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.
god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere
Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.
I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!
Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!
Sky is so proud of himself
this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'
I love this man a healthy amount.
One last thing before I go
I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.
I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.
Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.
Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.
God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D
Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D
Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!
#Corner of lu updates!#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu spoilers#lu update spoilers#ramble corner with major#lu warriors#lu sky#lu time#lu four#lu chain#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu twilight#lu wild#lu wind#dawn 8#comic analysis with major#this update was good soup#SO MUCH TO UNPACK#THIS WAS FUN! :D#I had to split this up into two sessions its great#Yep another 4 hours deep dive into these#I've been here all morning hahaha#I love doing these#Have a great day! :D
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So, I'm going to tell you an unusual story, and you do not have to believe me that it's true; I urge you, in fact, to disbelieve it, and to conclude I simply made it all up. But, if I write it now, it might be proven right at one point in the future, and then I can say 'I was right, I called this.'
As a child, I used to have a favourite tree. It was a big oak tree, with the lowest branches just low enough for me to grab and climb on. The ants were always crawling up on it. I would climb this tree and watch the sunset trough the frame of its branches.
I also often felt lonely and troubled as a child, so I would sit with my back leaning to the tree, and I would tell stories, things I couldn't say to people. Sometimes I would come there seeking advice, not knowing how to go about life. The tree was, as all trees are, a great listener. I can't tell you what the tree was thinking, but I was sure we were becoming friends.
One day, I wondered what the tree's story was. And I was a weirdo little child, okay, I was convinced I could communicate with anything, that I could feel anyone's emotions. And it was not a magical thing, kids sometimes develop some extra senses when they're in an environment where they have to watch out for other's moods. I was convinced that me + tree communication was possible. So that one day, I wanted to hear the tree's story. I pressed my entire body to the trunk and concentrated. I could almost feel energy flowing trough the tree, I could swear that I felt it. I imagined what must be in there. And then I saw something interesting. The trees roots continued underground, far beyond what I expected they would, and they had a way to connect and communicate with other trees down there. They could tell what was happening to the other trees that way. They were all connected underground.
This wasn't all I saw, but I'll come back to it.
I was impressed and fascinated by this new knowledge. Trees could share information. Trees knew if you were nice to another tree, especially if it was the same species. Word got around. They knew where other trees were growing too, and how many. I was happy to know that my tree was not alone and was in contact with all other trees, even when it grew alone. I didn't share this knowledge with anyone, as it would be impossible to explained how I gained this information.
Years later, it was discovered that trees do communicate underground, using mycelium as their communications network. 'Hm', I thought, seeing those news. 'I already knew that. It seems they only figured it out now'. I didn't know about the mycelium though, I just knew they were communicating. So I did get correct information back there as a kid, it was just too unusual for me to believe it.
However the discoveries didn't encompass everything I'd seen. There's another piece of information I got back then, that isn't yet – and maybe it won't be discovered at all.
I didn't just see the trees communicating down there. I saw them having conferences.
It wasn't constant and ongoing communication, the trees had set times where they would all focus, share their information, and they made decisions based on the information they gathered. So the trees are not only communicating, they also problem-solve and make decisions together. It makes me think of the communal sharing of forests – if one tree is weak and isn't getting enough nutrients or light, the other trees, or the mother tree would send that tree enough nutrients to survive, which makes it more likely that a tree would thrive in a forest, than alone. I feel like that's the kind of thing they might be deciding on their meetings, which trees need the most help and how those resources are allocated to them. I think this is a correct way to hold a community.
They also share the information about when predators or pests about to attack, and some trees are able to change the taste of their leaves or the chemicals in their trunks, in order to deter the enemy. Which I think is really cool for them to be able to do. Again, I have to conclude that the trees are superior to us.
So, I haven't been able to build another close connection to a tree like that (maybe you have to be a child in order to attain such special things), so I can't go ask another tree more about it, but that's what I have. Underground tree conferences. If in 10 years scientists come out with research supporting this, you knew it first. If not, well hey, we can theorize about trees, it's not illegal.
Again I do not claim I accrued this knowledge trough magical means, and maybe I'm just lying. But, if you're still reading, I can tell you that trees growing in close proximity to humans, are much more friendly to humans, than those in wild, abandoned forests. Some trees have a wacky sense of humor and will attempt to make humans laugh. Some trees show certain levels of concern over humans – we're very soft, squishy and fragile in comparison to them! And we get stressed a lot, while trees get stressed during droughts and pest pressure, which doesn't happen all the time. Trees have a greater sense of acceptance, there's things above their power to change and they make peace with it easier than we do.
So there's the information I gathered trough unusual means, and I while I cannot promise its reliability, I do think it's all good fun. And be nice to your trees. Because all other trees will hear about it.
#trees#forbidden tree knowledge#mycelium network#forest#nature#environmental#story#tree story#favourite tree#i miss you tree#i wish i could go there again and check up on it
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Hyahime presents: That time when a jsk became an ironing board cover..
Today i'm sharing a classic from cgl many of you have definitely heard about: The ironing board fiasco. The story of a girl, her dad's fiance and many feels.
Everything started when OP shared this image and said the following:
Due to some unusual circumstances, I'm currently living in a partially-renovated house with my dad and his fiancé.
His fiancé is a very sweet lady who is very thrifty. She makes all her own clothes and and will usually find a practical use for something, rather than throw it out (i.e recycling old bottles and jars to pot plants).
I had a Baby The Stars Shine Bright Strawberry and Cherry Ruffle jumperskirt that I didn't wear anymore, so I was planning to sell it. From memory, it cost about $400.
I put it out in the main room next to a pile of clothes I planned to donate to Good Sammies, so I'd remember to take photos of it for the sale. I then went away for a week to visit my grandparents
When I came back, I noticed the pile of clothes had disappeared. Cool, my dad and/or his fiancé had donated them for me. But wait… Where was the jumperskirt?
It was then that I saw the sight portrayed in the uploaded. My dress had been cut up to to make an ironing board cover and a tablecloth. I don't know where the rest of the material is.
It appeared that my dad's fiancé had assumed the jumperskirt was part of the donation pile, and thought there was no harm in 'recycling' it for her own uses. In her efforts to pretty up the concrete-y wasteland of a house, she had unknowingly destroyed an expensive brand dress.
Literally the only thing I could do in that moment was stare blankly. I can't even be mad at her, she had no idea.
So now I have a BTSSB ironing board and table cloth.
the story immediately caught the attention of users as they scrolled. Some found it terrible, others couldn't help but laugh..
Though some were quick to say it must've been fake.
So.. did OP fake this for attention? Let's investigate.
It is very unlikely the fabric was gathered from a replica, judging by the print details and the fact that this isn't a very sought-after or popular piece you'd see everywhere.
But how did one dress result in so much fabric?
Although it looks like a lot, one anon pointed this out:
But she knew she'd get the attention, right? ...yes, but I don't think anyone would come up with this specific odd way to recycle a lolita piece and make the community react.
OP responded to the questions and thoughts with the following:
At this point, some anons were pretty much just fighting over if it's okay for OP to be so calm or not. Which.. is a little bit weird. Others were more emotional about this than the victim themselves.
But what you may not know is.. there's more. There's more to the Kawaiironing fiasco.
Op comes back.
I queried the whereabouts of the remaining material and she showed me. She said my dad told her I was "throwing them out" (I have no idea where he drew that conclusion as i specifically said I was donating a bunch of clothes, so at the very least he should have assumed I was, you know, donating them), so she thought it was fine to cut up.
My fault anyway, didn't separate the "sell" pile from the "donate" pile.
HOWEVER…
There were a few other brand dresses I was planning to sell. I assumed they had been donated with the rest of my clothes, as they were nowhere to be found. I was a little sad about that (they were valuable Angelic Pretty, BBSTB and Metamorphose), but oh well.
Then I looked in her material bag and found they had also been cut up… When dad said I was "throwing THEM" out, he did not state a plural by accident… Pics to follow.
If anyone wants individual versions of those pics lemme know.
The loli gods frown upon me today for my unbecoming carelessness in handling burando.
Op decided to keep the truth a secret: ignorance is bliss, and her stepmother did not deserve to feel the guilt of ruining so much burando.. or to know that so many lolitas were in shambles knowing about her crafts.
..Although, anons said this wouldn't stop her from doing it again. Maybe she should know so she doesn't cut up even more dresses.
One thing is certain. that's a really cute ironing board cover. Maybe the fabric could become even more random burando stuff: headbows, little makeup bags, cup coasters, mats.. oven mitts?
Lolita home goods for all! we demand a cute life!(✧∀✧)/
#memorybox#eglfashion#jfashion#lolita fashion#egl#old school lolita#egl community#classic lolita#egl fashion#sweet lolita#gothic lolita
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SSR Jack Howl - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Jack: Oh, this painting has wolves in the snow chasing an intruder that was romping through their territory. Very brave of them.
Jack: And this painting… Ah, it's a wolf that raised an orphaned baby. Didn't know one did that.
Jack: There's so many wolves to be proud of.
Jack: ―Ah, oops. I can't help lingering whenever I see a painting of wolves. Since they invited me all the way out here, I should take a look at the other stuff as well.
Jack: Hm? What's that painting of those animals over there…?
???: Oho? This is quite the tasteful art piece.
Jack: Oh you're… Malleus-senpai. So, you like this one, too?
Malleus: Indeed. It is truly a scene to behold that I could not help myself stopping before it.
Malleus: The sight of the baboon walking through the throng of animals, all whom have their heads bowed, is majestic and beautiful… Whatever could they be doing there?
Jack: I think this is… Yeah, a depiction of when all the animals gathered to celebrate the birth of their prince.
Jack: The baboon in the center there was respected by all the other animals as a real capable sorcerer.
Jack: Not only was he an amazing mage, he was also good at drawing, and was real strong, too.
Jack: Don't you think that's amazing? It's only natural that he'd remain in the history books, especially being that skilled.
Malleus: True, those with exceptional talents have a charming tendency to attract the attention of others.
Malleus: And you, Howl, seem to have quite the font of knowledge, with how you to readily are able to answer my queries...
Jack: Heh, I just a thing or two about the history of animals, since I'm a beastman, and all. Back when I was a kid, I'd have a ton of picture books, and I'd hear all about them.
Jack: But I think it was the tales of the King of Beasts that really made me actually go to the library and want to study more on it.
Jack: Take the fact that he was the leader of his pride. He must've been a head above everyone else in all his abilities.
Malleus: Heh… I'm certain that was the case. At any rate, it sounds to me as though this conversation has lit a fire inside of you.
Malleus: You seem to have some form of attachment to the King of Beasts.
Jack: I wouldn't say attachment… I just respect the way he pursued his life.
Malleus: Respect, I see. Well then, have you ever thought of seizing the position of pack leader as the King of Beasts did?
Jack: Nah. I don't like being part of a pack, and I'm not one for leadership.
Malleus: Oho? I was under the impression that wolves hunted in packs.
Jack: If we have the same end goal, sure, I'll team up with whoever. But it's not like I'll obediently wag my tail for everyone.
Jack: A pack leader needs to be wiser and more responsible than anyone else.
Jack: If the guy at the top makes the wrong judgement, then everyone else will suffer.
Malleus: So, you consider "wisdom" to be the key trait of a leader?
Jack: I mean, it's not enough to just be wise. They also have to be physically strong. There are folk out there that'll use sly and cowardly methods to do what they want.
Jack: If they don't have the strength to completely crush 'em down, they're not worthy of that spot at the top.
Malleus: Heh… You sure do tout some lofty expectations, Howl.
Jack: I just don't like compromising. And, since these are expectations, there'd be no point into setting them so low in the first place.
Jack: Sometimes people say I'm overly conscious, or a pain to deal with, but… So what?
Jack: No matter what anyone else might say, I follow what I believe in. I decided that long ago.
Malleus: Heh, I see that you're a rather stubborn one, Howl. However, I cannot say that pride is a terrible thing to have.
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Jack: So, this museum also has a painting of a young lady wishing at a well, huh.
Jack: Back home… I mean, in the Shaftlands, you'd see this pretty much everywhere, but it's been a while since I've laid eyes on one, myself.
Malleus: Hm? Is this painting that well known in the Shaftlands?
Jack: Not really this painting, so much as the actual story behind it. To the point where you'd see artwork based on it displayed all over the country.
Jack: You'll get people tryin' to make a wish in the well like she does, too.
Jack: My little sister'll run to a well every time she sees one. Not like there's any proof that it'll grant her wish, but she still does.
Malleus: You make it sound as though you've never wished upon a well, Howl.
Jack: Uh, well… I did try when I was a kid… But only once.
Malleus: Oho, and why was that?
Jack: At the moment I tried to cast my wish, I fell into the well…
Jack: At the time, I was a little too short to look over the edge of the well. So, I tried to hoist myself over the rim, but I put a little too much oomph into it.
Jack: It was an old well, so there wasn't any water, but a huge pile of fallen leaves, so I didn't get hurt… But it did startle me pretty bad then.
Jack: On top of that, that well was in the middle of the forest, where people didn't really walk past. No matter how hard I yelled, no one came by.
Malleus: What misfortune. However, as you are standing here before me today, I must assume that someone did indeed come and save you.
Jack: Nope, I got out by myself. Luckily, the inside of the well had real blocky walls, so I was able to use them as footholds as I climbed out.
Jack: But that definitely wasn't easy. Back then, I wasn't training or nothing, so I didn't really have any muscles, either.
Jack: I thought I was going to fall so many times, but somehow, I got out of there…
Jack: As soon as I got out of the well, I collapsed, 'cause I was so exhausted and just couldn't move for a while.
Jack: I really thought I was in a huge pinch there, but… At the same time, I was also a pretty impressed.
Malleus: Impressed…?
Jack: Yeah. I was having trouble just climbing up to the edge of the well in the first place, but then I was able to climb the whole well up to the surface.
Jack: I was able to do something that I didn't think I'd be able to do. That means that any wish can be granted…
Jack: SO LONG AS I HAVE STRENGTH AND MUSCLES!!!
Jack: So, basically, anytime I'd have extra time that would have otherwise been spent wishing on a well, I just worked out, instead.
Malleus: Fufu, you truly found an extreme approach… But I see. Essentially, this incident was not completely misfortunate.
Jack: Yeah, I'd say so. I think I'm how I am now, because of what happened there.
Jack: Now that I'm thinking of why I got into all this training, I kind of want to work out now.
Jack: When I get back to campus, I'm going to throw myself into my training even more, so that I can overcome anything I encounter with my own power!
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Jack: The Queen of Hearts, huh… I feel like I see her depicted alongside animals a lot.
Malleus: True. However, that is a rather unusual bird.
Malleus: It appears to be a flamingo; however I've never seen a lime green one in my life.
Jack: From what I heard, in the country that the Queen of Hearts ruled over there were flamingos of various colors, not just pink.
Jack: When Heartslabyul do their traditional croquet tournaments, they use magic to color the animals to match this tale.
Malleus: Oho? You certainly know much about this.
Jack: Me and those two from Ramshackle got invited by Ace and Deuce to play croquet with them, so…
Jack: It's just something I heard back then.
Jack: …Ugh, man. Talking about it reminded me of how I lost pretty bad then.
Malleus: Those in Heartslabyul are quite familiar with croquet. Is it not surprising to lose to them?
Jack: Even if I've never played it before, I'm usually pretty good at any sport I try. Only…
Jack: The croquet they play in Heartslabyul has real weird rules, and you need to get the animals to work with you.
Jack: During our game, the flamingo and hedgehogs were nervous only with me, so they didn't move like I was hoping they would.
Jack: They weren't scared of Grim and [Yuu], even though they were also playing with us...
Jack: The fact that I lost without being able to do anything really frustrates me.
Jack: Or more like… Can that game even be called a sport, in the first place?
Malleus: Certainly, I would agree that it is a far cry different from what one would consider an ordinary sport. I was also surprised when I first observed it.
Jack: You think so too, right!? It's just weird, needing to work alongside the animals like that...
Jack: Seeing that all the sport-loving types in my dorm haven't ever played it before…
Jack: I really don't think they could even be put in the same category. But I can't deny that I did lose the game.
Jack: When the next time comes that I play croquet with them, I can't show a terrible display like that again.
Jack: So that just means that I have to keep up in my Animal Linguistics classes!
Malleus: I see. So, ever since you lost, you've been continuing to improve yourself.
Malleus: They do say that the languages of smaller animals is rather difficult to absorb. Good for you, putting your all into even a mere game.
Jack: That's 'cause I don't want to lose the same game twice. Next time, I'll make Ace and Deuce lose face.
Malleus: Fufu, I shall hope for your efforts to be successful.
Malleus: ―Well then, I shall make my way to a different exhibit. You should also make an effort to look at some more of your favorite paintings.
Jack: …There he goes. He just does his own thing, huh? I really don't know what goes through his head.
Jack: Well, whatever. I guess I'll head towards another exhibit too. …Hm? This painting…
Jack: Ah, a lion prince, and his hornbill attendant. Heh, how can such a pathetic lookin' lion really become king?
Jack: I'll only ever accept someone strong. If they're to be king, they need to have the power to crush all greedy and sleazy people down.
Requested by Anonymous.
#twisted wonderland#twst#jack howl#malleus draconia#twst jack#twst malleus#twst translation#twst birthday#mention: ace#mention: deuce#mention: grim#mention: yuu
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Reader Goes Feral When Trigun Boys Get Hurt - Anya's 100 Follower Event
Pairings: Vash x reader, Wolfwood x reader (separately)
A/N: Thank you to all the lovely individuals who requested this prompt for my 100 follower event! I'm inspired enough to write a joint post with blurbs for this, so enjoy! Also, there are still slots open, so feel free to request something, friends!
Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, reader being badass
Vash the Stampede
"(Y/N)! Run, now! Get somewhere safe!"
Vash's words echoed in your head, but all you could do was stare down at the blood staining your clothing. Vash's blood. You'd felt your heart drop to the ground as you watched bullets tear through Vash, who had done nothing but try to calm the ire of the townsfolk chasing after him.
Your skin burned where Vash's blood stained it, and all you could hear was the thrumming of your blood in your ears as a fire began to spread through your veins. You couldn't hear anything, and suddenly, the fact that bullets were whizzing by didn't phase you. All you could think about was making the people who had shot Vash pay.
They were going to pay for shooting Vash if it was the last thing you ever did.
The world moved around you as if in slow-motion. You felt yourself moving faster than your brain could comprehend, pulling out your pistol and firing off shots to disarm the townsfolk before they could so much as wound you. You watched as the townsfolk realized what kind of rage was coursing through you, you watched as the fear began to register on their faces, but not fast enough to escape the all-consuming fire of your rage.
"HOW DARE YOU?!"
The voice that bellowed those words was not one you ever would've recognized as your own, but you couldn't care less. It was filled with anger and hatred and malice, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself shooting to hurt, if not to kill altogether.
You found yourself watching as blood bloomed on people's clothes as your bullets found their marks, muted cries of pain and fear ringing out as the wounded slowly fell to the ground and as their fellow townsfolk began to flee, sprinting and stumbling away as best they could. You watched as some trembled in fear, begging and praying for you to spare them, while others dove for cover.
'Why should I spare them?!' Hissed a primal, vicious voice from deep within you, 'I should show them the same mercy they showed Vash!'
But, as your gaze fell onto the crumpled form of the blonde-haired man, curled up in the fetal position around the bullet wounds in his stomach, you suddenly felt a pang of horror and realization go through you.
This isn't what Vash would want.
Shaking and panting from your rage and exertion, you lowered your gun, looking around at the horrified townsfolk as they struggled to get away from you or patch their own wounds. Wounds you had inflicted.
Before the weight of what you had done could really sink in, you quickly turned and, using the extra adrenaline in your system, you gathered Vash as best as you could, supporting him and trying to be careful as you minded his wounds, lifting him enough to get him at least off the ground.
As you lifted him, Vash groaned, his eyes fluttering open weakly and looking around. Once his gaze settled on you, his eyes widened and a look of worry and fear crossed his face.
"(Y/N)? Why are you crying? Are you okay?"
You didn't even realize you had begun to cry, nor did you have energy to answer him, trying hard to block out the cries of the wounded townsfolk. As Vash began to take in the scene and connect the pieces, all you could do was readjust your hold on him and sniffle out before beginning to walk.
"Come on. I gotta get you somewhere safe."
Nicholas D. Wolfwood
This wasn't at all what you had expected to happen.
You knew that whatever solution Wolfwood had been drinking from those glass vials of him had to have some kind of consequence, but for Wolfwood's body to fail him in healing in the middle of a fight? It wasn't how you expected it to happen at all.
"Damn!"
You heard Wolfwood exclaim as he leaned back against a wall, ducking from the bullets being shot at you and him by the police, slumping down to the ground. He was panting heavily and you could see the dark blood seeping through the bullet wounds to his torso. He had already chugged a vial, but nothing had happened. Your eyes widened in fear.
"Wolfwood-"
"Yeah, I know, sweetheart!" He cut you off almost immediately, his tone sharp, "I don't need you to say anything!"
You flinched slightly, feeling the fear building up in you as you watched the blood patches growing bigger and bigger, and watching the light in Wolfwood's eyes get dimmer and dimmer. Then-
"(Y/N)!"
Wolfwood never used your real name unless it was a serious situation or a warning. This cry of your name was filled with panic.
"Hands above your head, or we'll shoot you both!"
You felt a gun barrel press up against the back of your head, and you slowly put your hands up as the officer had demanded. You watched as another three or four officers with weapons ran up, one of them snickering at Wolfwood's state.
"Not so brave now, are you?" The officer laughed, before proceeding to pistol-whip Wolfwood across the face.
All you heard was the impact of the pistol against Wolfwood's cheekbone before your vision went red.
"Nicholas!"
Before you could register your emotions, the officer holding the gun to your head was screaming in pain as you got his arm locked in your grasp and quickly jerked it in a way that the gun dropped from his grip and he clutched his arm in agony.
The officers around glanced over at you only in time for you to strike them hard enough to break noses and jaws, to give black eyes and drop them to the ground before they had time to comprehend the threat you posed to them. Within a few moments, the guards were unconscious or groaning on the ground, their guns out of reach and no longer a risk to you or to Nicholas.
When you came back to your senses, you were panting frantically and your arms were aching from the level of force you used. You glanced down at your hands and faintly registered that your knuckles were bruised and bleeding, some gashes now on your hands from dealing blows. Shakily, you looked back up at Nicholas, who was just looking at you with wide eyes.
"W-What?" You asked, your voice trembling as you tried to calm yourself down.
"Nothing," Nicholas replied, a small grin appearing on his lips as he tried to stand, "You're just scary when you're ragin', doll. Didn't know you could do that. Thanks for defending me."
#anya's athenaeum#trigun stampede#trigun stampede x reader#trigun x reader#trigun#vash the stampede#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader#nicholas d wolfwood#wolfwood x reader#wolfwood
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come home already
alhaitham x reader x kaveh
just two people in love and yearning for kaveh <3 softy 'haitham <333
“we should definitely head to the asipattravana swap and get mourning flowers. i know they’d make him smile if he sees them around the house,” you can’t help but smile yourself at the thought of kaveh finally coming home. your chest fills with warm butterflies at the thought of watching his beautiful features light up after seeing everything you and alhaitham had prepared for him in his absence, knowing how much you missed him and how long you waited for this moment. you continue pacing the space of the living room and going over your plans out loud as the scribe prepares the last of your bags for your trip to the desert. “getting the quelled creepers shouldn’t be too bad between the two of us either, he’ll need them to keep his strength up but maybe we should head more through the forest to get those fungal spores, the fungi in the desert are just plain mean.”
you wait for a moment, giving alhaitham the chance to tell you his own thoughts, likely note how all fungi are of the same attitude, but he remains silent by the bookshelves, his back facing you though you can tell he’s mulling over which books to bring with, even looking at your own books that were far less of his own preferred genre but still something you could always do together while you rested between your travels and gathering often items.
“‘haitham are you even listening to me?” you grumble, feeling your heartbeat pick up speed, your palms grow sweaty and your feet becoming even more restless. they carry you to him, as if he would keep you from spiraling into even more worries you had yet to speak out loud, quickly closing the distance between you.
your close presence draws his attention from the spines of the books, though he had been listening to you even through his search. you were so obvious in your worry, it was cute how you tried to hide it in ways that alhaitham knew too well but he also knows he shouldn’t let you stew in those feelings for too long, especially when there was nothing to worry about. so he gives you a smile, an unusual sight to most for the ever elusive scribe, but it’s meant to help calm your nerves, steady out your racing heart and even more hurried thoughts. he knew you were anxious for the final days, the single digit days, until your beloved architect came home. kaveh had left you both in a state of longing with his prolonged absence but that was all coming to an end soon enough. there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fret over and alhaitham would be here to keep you sane until the missing piece of your two hearts finally came back to where he belonged.
“i am,” he answers, large hands coming to rest atop your shoulders. his thumbs soothingly rub against your skin as he takes closer and closer steps towards you until your senses are filled with him; the scent of rose water and old parchment, his natural warmth and the heat of his breaths, the love between you emanating in his attempt to help calm you down. “everything will be okay, kaveh will be more than happy just to be home with us,” he assures you with a soft tone that was still so sure of its answer and even softer blue eyes.
“but..” you go to protest, to go over details of your trip that were silly worries that alhaitham had already calculated for and that he would take care of if it did arise, but you’re cut off before you can get another word out by the muscular arms of your feeble scholar wrapping around you and pulling you into his plush chest.
he doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything but hold you and let you listen to his steady heart beat, feel his deep breaths.
“i.. i just want him to know we love him.. so much..” you mumble into alhaithams chest, your hands finally finding their way around his waist, holding onto him tightly.
“he knows,” he says it so matter of fact, like it was the easiest truth he had ever spoken. “and we’ll be able to tell him ourselves soon enough.”
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
#KAVEH COME HOMEEEEE#this is so very self indulgent#kaveh#alhaitham#kaveh x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x reader x kaveh#al haitham x reader#al haitham
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National Anthem – F!Reader x Price (x little bit Valeria)
Summary: After Graves’ betrayal another villain appears on the screen for the Task Force. They are nothing like all the others before.
This is kind of inspired by the song National Anthem by Lana Del Rey. I wrote all of this down, but I’m actually not sure what to do with it, so enjoy this little piece of pure braindump. I’m also not sure if I like this at all, so I would really appreciate to know what you think about it :)
Warnings: MDNI – sexual talk; swearing; angst; mentions of death
Length: 2.7 k
“Laswell, you look like you could use a drink”, Price sits down at the bar handing her a glass full of the best whiskey. “Thank you, John, but alcohol isn’t going to get rid our problems this time”, Kate takes a sip of her drink.
Her words make the whole Task Force kind of uncomfortable. Laswell is usually convinced that they can manage everything that the world throws at them, but this time she does have her doubts.
“At first, I thought we only have a usual Russian problem, but it turns out to be way bigger and more than just that”, she gets out two pictures from her jacket pocket to put them upside down onto the table, “There is no room to fail this time.” John exchanges a brief glance with his team, “Hit us, Kate.” As if there would be ever room to fail in their field of work.
“Alejandro contacted me a few hours ago fuming. Valeria got bailed out of jail with an amount of money we all only can dream about. I did a lot of digging to find out what the hell is going on. A woman paid the money to get Valeria back to her El Sin Nombre cartel. It was the same person, who overtook the Shadow Company after Graves’ got killed. This woman is going to be a big problem gathering herself the best army”, Laswell pushes one of the pictures towards John.
The Captain can feel his heart stop for a second as he turns the picture around just to find a very familiar face looking back at him. A thick coldness starts to spread in his chest; doom setting slowly in.
“Price?”, Gaz asks quite concerned about John’s silence. The Captain keeps staring as the seconds tick by. “Fuck”, it’s the only thing he says and hands the picture to Gaz. John literally prayed years ago to never see your oh so beautiful face ever again. His heart can’t get over the fact that you are still looking the same. The way you glance at the camera with a winning smirk makes his knees weak. You know that you were observed from afar and you did not give a single fuck about it.
“You know her?”, Kate can’t explain otherwise his reaction. Price nods his head in agreement, “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Met her once years ago. We had a mission together, but never saw her again after that.” He really hopes none of them can see through his lie. It was way more than just a mission. It was way more complicated than that.
Even after all this time John feels everything like it has been just yesterday. The way your hands have been roaming over his chest. So fucking close to him. Skin on skin. The way you felt amazing underneath him. As well as the way you broke his heart into thousand pieces. If there would be ever a regret he has to live through, it would be you.
Price doesn’t tell them a single thing about it. He will not go through every detail of his biggest mistake with his entire team. That’s something only between you and him for the rest of his life.
“So, she is military?”, Gaz asks as Soap hands the picture to Ghost. Neither of them can’t deny that you are absolutely breathtaking as much as you are deadly probably.
“Yes, (Y/N) worked for a special forces team in the American military. There is nothing much to know since almost everything is classified. Only a handful or so have the security rank to gather that information. The team included five members with the call signs X-1 to X-5, which sounds very nice, right? X-1 means Executer-1, so they called them actually Killer-1 to Killer-5. She is one of the best”, Laswell answers and pulls another picture out of her jacket.
John already knows that the picture will be you in your impressive completely black Executer-gear. He hates and loves this one so much. “No, Kate. (Y/N) is the best”, Price doesn’t say those words very lightly, but they are the truth. If you are going to be their enemy, it will be a fucking war.
“She took over the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel? For what? What is her goal?”, Gaz can’t make the connections yet. Kate let’s out a deep sigh and turns around the last picture, “I think she is going for this man.”
The Captain shakes his head, “Makarov? (Y/N) is going for the big kill. If she can gather Russians, the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel around her, we are all doomed. With that (Y/N) can take over every army and if that happens, she will go back to America getting her final revenge.”
“What do you know, John?”, Kate is almost kind of mad that she isn’t fully in the picture apparently like Price himself. “(Y/N) made a decision the military didn’t want to see. X-2 to X-5 were supposed to execute her. The members were named after their ranks, so (Y/N) was Executer 1 – the best of them. She killed every single one of her former teammates. The American Government classified everything to keep people from talking. (Y/N) escaped in the end, but all of that were rumors years ago. Everyone who told them got silenced. The military didn’t want to acknowledge her existence anymore. So, who really knows if that’s real or not”, Price knows exactly that everything he just told was real.
Neither of them dares to interrupt the silence thinking about the worst that could happen. Someone as power-driven and skilled as you will bring hell over those who did you wrong. What they don’t know is that you are halfway through your plan to conquer the world like you want it to.
A few hours earlier…
“Ah, Valeria. Nice to meet you in person finally. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). At your service”, you give the soldier your best smile to greet her properly. She raises one of her eyebrows still unsure about your intentions, “Why did you pay for my freedom?”
You mention towards the waiting car, “Let’s talk in the car. It’s way cooler in their and it would be only fair to bring you back to your cartel.” Valeria follows your invitation, “If you try to do something stupid I will kill you.” You can’t help yourself but laugh as you get in the car after her, “I really don’t doubt that for a second.”
“So, what’s the deal, hermosa?”, Valeria asks after taking a sip of the cool drink you gave her. You lean forward smiling knowing exactly how to expose your cleavage and use your body to get what you want. Valeria’s eyes follow just like you planned.
“Mi vida, I want your El Sin Nombre cartel to work with my Shadow Company. I am working towards a goal that is very important to me”, you explain to her leaving out a few important details. Valeria doesn’t ask but you could see the question in her eyes.
“Graves got … detained by me. His former soldiers are under my wings now. And well, there is no nice way to tell you this, but your people are also mine”, you keep on smiling knowing exactly she will understand the hidden threat.
“So, the rumors are true that you are gathering an army. They warned me about you, hermosa. Take my men if you need to. You paid for my freedom”, Valeria knows when she is in a situation without options. She is in your hands without any chance of an escape, better playing along for now.
“I’m really glad you took that so well. Graves wasn’t really cooperating”, you lean back taking a sip of your own drink. Valeria knows how to pick her fights and you are much more powerful than she thought.
“Well, the Gringo didn’t know how to handle dangerous women. Especially when they are as breathtaking as you are, mi vida”, Valeria holds up her glass to clink hers with yours. She can’t help herself but be enchanted by you.
You have already wrapped Graves around your little finger with your sex appeal until you took what was his. Now Valeria, next one will be Makarov. And you are pretty sure he will not resist you just like the others. Your plan is going wonderful. Now comes the fun part…
The ringing of his phone snaps Price out of his deep focus on working out a plan to bring you down before you can raise hell. No matter how many options his brain goes through it will never be good enough to keep up with your next steps.
“Captain Price”, he is only paying half attention to the caller on the other side of the line. “Hi, John”, your sweet voice rings in his ears over and over again. Price is not a man to get shocked easily, but right now his mind is absolutely blank. There are literally not words to form a proper sentence.
“Oh, I wish I could see your face right now. Happy to hear that I’m still alive?”, you can’t help yourself to let a heartfelt laugh, which brings John’s heartrate into a very dangerous zone. “Why are you calling?”, he tries to keep calm, but everything in him turns slowly into panic mode. It’s unusual for him. Only you can make him feel this way.
“Oi, don’t you know anymore how small talk works, muppet? How are you doing? What have you been up to the last decade? We really need to work on your manners, handsome”, you didn’t mean to sound it seductively, still you are not mad about it. You don’t have to be in the same room with John to know that you are still going under his skin with so much ease.
“John, humor me for a second. How have you been? Tell me a bit about your little Task Force”, your voice could play on repeat for eternity and John would still not get enough of it. In this moment he hated you so much for all the love he still has for you in his heart. But the two of you are a shadow of the past.
“You haven’t changed, so I’m pretty sure you know already everything about my team”, John will not give in. Not this time. “Yeah, but it would have been nice to hear it from you. Do you really think your Task Force is good enough to keep up with me? Are they ready to do whatever it needs to take down the devil herself?”, you have been watching him and his team for a while now; tracking their success as a team and still they will never be as good as you are.
“What happened to you? This isn’t you, (Y/N)”, John’s voice is only a whisper over the line. You don’t want to admit it, but you actually missed how sweet your name sounds when it comes over his lips. “Betrayal. So much betrayal that I finally found solace in power and revenge”, you reply replaying in your head what happened long ago.
“You killed innocent people… Children…”, John remembers how you stood right in front of him; trying to explain everything, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it. He knows now that you made the right decision back then. His younger self didn’t know it.
“You draw the line wherever you need it, Captain! Isn’t that something you like to tell your team? I did that, but what did I get for sacrificing so much? Nothing. The military sent my own team after me. You left me. I lost everything to save thousands of lives. But you know what? I will gain so much more for sacrificing those lives now. Revenge is best served cold”, once you get what you want, you will never have to defend yourself ever again, “John, we both know that villains are also human beings with a dramatic backstory. Just like the heroes.”
“You called just to tell me all of that?”, John can almost feel his heart bleeding; knowing he is part of the problem. He is one of the reasons you turned your back against humanity. “No, since we have quite the past together, I wanted to give you a change. I can be merciful, if I want to. You have 24 hours to find Makarov to stop me”, your voice transforms from being bitter to cheerful in a second.
“You already know where he is, eh?”, Price realizes that you are playing with him. You know exactly there would be no chance for him to win this battle. “Oh, of course. I would never go into a conversation like this without having plan beforehand, handsome. 24 hours, big boy. Time is ticking”, without a further word you end the call leaving John alone in a deafening silence. This is a fucking war neither John nor the Task Force can win.
Bonus:
“It’s over, (Y/N). Lay down your gun”, Price points his weapon at you as he makes his way towards you. A slight smile appears on your lips before you do what he says. Your little handgun compared to his gets put on the table right in front of you.
You can’t help yourself but admire how handsome he looks after all this time you have seen him. He is aging like a fine wine. For a moment you remember how young he had looked back when he still was a Lieutenant.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a sore loser”, you raise your hands so he can see them clearly. For once you are not a threat to him. Slowly you make your way around the table. He keeps his gun pointed at you, but still lets you come as close as possible. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.
“We all know it was your decision to lose. You had everything to bring hell upon us. So, why do you give up now?”, John’s finger ache to stroke your cheek softly; to feel your warmth against his skin once again. Your eyes bore into his; looking straight into his soul. “And we both know I can’t do anything against my weakness, John. You are still the only one I don’t want to hurt.”
Your words touch his soul; breathing back live into him. For a moment neither of you know what to say. Softly you push away his gun and he let it happen. The two of you are so damn close now almost breathing the same air.
“Do you still love me?”, John can hear the pain but also the hope in your voice. There is no need to deny the truth any longer. He can’t ignore anymore how his heart calls your name over and over again. How it has been doing that for the last few years.
“Yes, I always have and I always will…. I’m so sorry for everything”, he caresses your cheek with his hand and you lean into the touch; yearning for his attention for such a long time already. “It’s okay. I love you too, John…”, you reply letting your tears fall freely now.
“… But neither heroes nor villains get happy endings, handsome. Right person, wrong time. Maybe we will find each other in the next life again. Good bye, John”, you place a soft kiss on his lips. Both of you savoring this moment as long as possible.
A single shot rings through the silence, then a body hitting the ground. And that’s how this story ends.
#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod x you#john price#captain john price#price x reader#captain john price x reader#task force 141#tf 141#valeria garza#valeria x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kate laswell#vladimir makarov#philip graves#cod imagine#reader insert#cod mw2 x reader#john price x reader
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You are evil, sososososo evil because now Mizu calling reader princess is stuck in MY head too! 😭😭Also I didn’t know about that ab hydrangeas and I think their symbolism is quite fitting for that Drabble!!!
So what if mizu and noblewoman!reader were playing a game of Go (the board game we saw seki and akemi play), with lots of smart quips and teasing (SUCH AS MIZU CALLING READER PRINCESS AAAAAA) on each end. But little does reader know, she’s actually abysmal at playing and Mizu has been purposefully keeping the game going for as long as possible by losing pieces
But then reader teases mizu/says something that genuinely distracts her and because mizu was making sure they were on par with eachother, the reader actually wins the game because of how distracted mizu got imagining what reader just said
But because mizu is defensive as hell she quickly snaps out of it and says how she intended to keep the game going because of how reader is so bad, and if reader really wanted to beat Mizu, maybe mizu could “tutor” her in private 👀
pairing: mizu x fem!noblewoman!reader
warning(s): light swearing, god the flirting is palpable and they are idiots
a/n: EVIL????? LMAO. as a writer it is my job to get you invested so you leave more work for me to do!! I do what must be done!!
summary: playing a game of go with mizu, the tension is palpable. the samurai keeps strong, but it’s quick before you break her.
word count: 425 words / 2,257 characters
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“mizu,” you began, moving your white piece to the spot before it. “I am starting to wonder if you actually know how to play.”
you arch an eyebrow at her.
“of course I know how to play,” she hisses, moving her piece to a spot she probably shouldn’t have.
mizu did know how to play. In fact, she wasn’t half bad at it, either it.
she was truly trying to keep the game going for as long as she could.
“I used to play with my sword-father.” she kept her gaze focused on the board, trying to know where you (and she) should place your pieces.
“ah, I see,” you nod your head. “so he taught you, then?”
“yes he did,” mizu murmured.
“well—“ you chuckled, placing your piece directly atop of hers, circling it. “he wasn’t a very good player.”
she scoffed, “I will have you know, princess, he was a fine player.”
“just not good enough,” you giggle as you slid her white piece of the board.
she took in a sharp inhale, moving to also capture one of your pieces.
despite all of your teasing and confidence, she knew you were actually shit at the game.
she’d seen you play with a friend of yours, before. a few times, actually.
never had you won one game.
“hmm, maybe I’m a bit too distracting for your own good, mizu?” you smirked at her, giggling as you saw her face light up.
mizu was stunned, by your words. she didn’t know what to make of them, she truly didn’t.
“ha!” your yelp snapped her out of her thoughts, “I win!”
her eyes widened, big as the sun, staring down at the board.
you were right. you had won.
her eyes narrowed, directing her gaze back up at you.
“bullshit—I was trying to keep the game going so we could talk.” she grumbled.
“hm, yes? Is that true?” you laughed, “are you sure about that?”
“yes, princess, I’ve seen you play before.” she chuckled herself, “I know you can’t play for shit.”
“hm,” you crossed your arms across your chest, that smirk plastered on your face never dipping, “why don’t you teach me, then.”
the proposition sounded.. interesting, to say the least.
sure, she’d taught you things before—a bit with her sword, how to shoot a bow and arrow.
but getting to spend long periods of one-on-one time with you?
that sounded like music to her ears.
“alright,” she conceded. “I’ll tutor you.”
you nod, gathering your feet and bowing to her.
“tomorrow. same time.”
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#mizu x you#mizu x reader#mizu#mizu blue eye samurai#blue eyed samurai#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#ask#asked and answered#request#fic request#x reader
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