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#and so i tend to take questions around these as people trying to 'sus me out' as a fake or something...
deoidesign · 27 days
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I'm sorry if what I say is wrong in any way, I don't mean to offend you, it's just something I'm not completely sure about. Does Adam use he/they or they/them pronouns? I think I saw a post of yours where you said that Adam uses he/they, but it was a while ago and now I'm not completely sure (and I don't want to use the wrong pronouns)
I know you don't mean anything by it, but I am sad that so many of the asks I get start with people saying "I'm sorry, I don't want to offend you" or some variation thereof, followed by completely normal questions. I think I may have been responding too harshly to too many things and given the impression that I'll jump at people for being wrong...
But asking clarifying questions is always okay. I mean, it's also okay to be wrong and even offensive. What matters is if you learn from it when someone points out that it was wrong or offensive. I won't stop telling people they're saying something hurtful if they are, but I don't want that to lead people to be scared of me or something.
Correcting people is always just about correcting them, not hurting them. It's okay to need to be corrected, were all learning new things every day.
Anyways Adam uses he/they, you remembered correctly
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turtlesocksv2 · 4 months
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Liveblogging DFF Ep 2
It's time for Dead Friend Forever episode 2!
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Ok I have to say this but it cracks me up every time i watch a Thai show and we get that little disclaimer at the start saying "we do not condone any characters/jobs/actions in this show it is for entertainment only" like what kind of 2003 FF.Net "Please don't sue me i am poor and only playing with these characters like dolls" ass thing to see in front of Mafia Dramas (Kinnporsche), Serial Killer hijinks (Dead Friend Forever) and fucking bittersweet adult midlife crisis vibes (Moonlight Chicken).
Top is absolutely losing it, and they need to leave poor Fluke alone. He is trying his best! What more do you expect from him?!
Oh, Tee is the first to break off from the group. RIP Tee, we'll see how that works out for you.
The mask the killer wears really is very freaky. well done, props department.
Phi the only one awake. I see you. I support you in your killings.
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Oh I really thought Top was donefor there. Phi taking control of the group is so interesting. The way he leads everyone down what investigation paths...
Alright just what did you guys do to Non last time??? thank god the 3 newbies to the group are having a little sidebar asking that question. Clearly whatever it was was awful for the group to jump immediately to Non is Dead and his Ghost is Cursing Us and He Wants Us Dead Too for What We Did. But also, i think this rules out All Three Newbies working together to I Know What You Did Last Summer the group, otherwise this scene would make no sense. We'd have another Gossip Girl Dan situation where actions taken when they're alone don't add up to the reveal. So at least 1 of the newbies is not involved.
LOL at Tan trying to get Fluke to spill what the core group knows. If i was Fluke I'd be feeling very very threatened right now. "You think you're going to be next. I'm worried about you." and now Jin is being mean to Fluke too! for the love of god, Fluke is trying! just because he wants to be a doctor doesn't mean he can perform surgery in a cabin in the woods! Leave him alone!
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"a good-mouthed and good-hearted man like you doesn't need to remind me" yessss. kill him.
lmao Por has old fucking floppy disks. are these people old enough to have used a floppy disk in their lives. but i know i've got old floppies around somewhere so it makes sense there'd be some at a like summer vacation house that gets used rarely. but also, did i miss that Por hid the footage last episode? because otherwise wouldn't the harddrive that had the footage still be in the room they were all in when Phi hooked it up to the TV?
Was that a mystery medicine bottle in the closet? 👀👀 yeah i'm gonna need someone who can read Thai to to screenshot and tell us what that says.
Oh i really don't need the squelching noises from Fluke tending to Por's wound, please.
Ok, that Por jumpscare with the balcony door got me. and How the fuck does Por have the strength to strangle someone when he's been bleeding out all night?! Obviously a hallucination or something but what caused the hallucination?!
Thank you, White, for bringing back up that they are in the Cult Sacrifice Woods and this might be a Cult Killer or have to do with the cult. a very important thing to remember.
I would absolutely be looking at that footage the second Tee and Top turned their backs, the fuck. No you don't get to act that sus about what happened three years ago and play it off! Phi fighting the fight to keep that footage intact and eventually seen. Tan trying to gently break the idea that the group was bullying Non to White.
oh SHIT the way Uncle Deng got fucking GOT by that wire i screamed! i knew something was going to go down because obviously they couldn't escape the valley mansion in episode 2 but jesus. fucking. christ.
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Tee finally remembering he has a boyfriend that he abandoned to the serial killer lmao. Tee and Top keep almost getting away and then going back. they are being herded like cattle. but also, it's kind of sus.
No PhiJin and barely any TeeWhite stuff this episode, which makes sense in that they are busy they don't have time to fuck, but i do find it interesting that PhiJin seem to be on the same page the episode with like no relationship tension between them just situational worry considering Jin was literally biting Phi's dick last episode. Putting aside grudges to stay alive: i'm proud.
anyway that was a really good episode! Tee and Top are the worst. Fluke needs to get the fuck out of this toxic friend group. White needs to dump Tee and get the fuck out of this toxic friend group. Phi and Tan can kill whoever they want i support it. ❤️
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themarginalthinker · 7 months
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@hypocriticaltypwriter *laughs manically as we slide into your dashboard*
Since you asked, who are we to deny?
This is all co-created with my writing and irl partner @berd-alert.
So, this is a collection of headcanons that, broadly, apply to just about anything we write within the Lost Boy's universe, but also some of it spills out into other vampire fiction we write, and some of it is SPECIFICALLY to do with our planned longfic You Can't Catch Me (and Make Me a Man), YCCM for short, which is in production right now and will be posted when it's closer to completion.
If you have any specific questions about THAT, feel free to ask or look through the, admittedly, small tag we have for it.
But! Here we go! Some vamp headcanons that we use as our baseline worldbuilding!
-Vampire bones opalize as they age! This extends to the blood, and by the time a vampire is about a hundred or so, their blood can appear white when spilled! Live long enough, and their teeth will flash rainbow iridescence.
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-Vampire mate for life! We played with the idea of soulmates for a while, because we don't generally Vibe with the 'bound by fate, unable to fight it, you just Have to be with this other person, no choice' that most soulmate aus tend to have incidentally, but we found a little work around.
Vampires mate for life, but who they end up with is a bit of a range. There will be people a vampire will have Resonance with, people they just click with, drift compatible if you will, and they can 'date' around, but...once one is chosen, that's It. That is the mate for the rest of their unlives. It IS entirely possible that if a mate dies, the remaining of the pair COULD find another...but it would take hundreds of years to make enough mental distance to allow that to happen.
To give something of an example from our own story: David and Paul had Resonance, but so did Paul and Marko - Paul chose Marko, because they had it more. David and Star had Resonance, but so did David and Michael, and David chose Michael.
-Clans! You were given the other two vampire social groups in the previous post, but there is technically a third!
Clans are a group of vampires that are in no way related - don't share a sire, aren't born of another vampire in that group, literally just a collection of people living and working together. Clans are...the largest, but most unstable of any vampire social unit, unbound by packbond or blood. They can hold pretty big territories, but that power tends to be tenuous and prone to collapse and scattering. Occasionally you get a matepair gathering nomads and singletons to try and form something like an adopted pack, but they don't tend to stick together nearly as long as an actual pack or coven. This doesn't mean that clans are inherently violent or anything, it just means it's a much more open and loose, but less secure social arrangement for all involved.
-Nomads: singleton or matepair vampires who hold no territory and wander instead. (Fun fact, Alan Frog almost ends up like this in our offshoot story Flight Feathers because of Reasons ;) )
Magic and vampiric Banes/Boons
This gets its own little section because it's a little..long.
Banes/Boons: Just like in Twilight (yes! I know! I thought SOME of the vampire worldbuilding was a little cool! SMeyer is still,,..sus tho for a number of reasons) vampires all have a special little ability they get when they turn! A boon. Sometimes it can even manifest in their fledglinghood, but usually it takes fully turning for it to appear.
And just like getting a special ability, they also get a weakness that's particularly bad. A bane.
David: Boon - inducing hallucinations, false visions and even some tactile sensation (ie, making them feel heat, wind, the crawling of insect feet when it's not real). Bane - he is REALLY sensitive to sunlight. The others would take a few minutes of blistering and smoking to get to burning in the light, but David IMMEDIATLY goes up in flames. He can't even take sunsets/sunrises. It's bad.
Dwayne: Boon - animal communication/command. He can make animals do whatever he wants, and understand their thoughts and intentions. Bane - arithmomania. The old vampire folklore compulsion to count large groups of small items, like bowls of sesame or poppy seeds, beans, beads, that kinds of thing.
Paul: Boon - mist transformation (also called incorporeality or 'vaporous transmogrification' if you wanna be fancy). Bane - affected by holy/blessed/consecrated objects and ground. Now, this one can apply to a number of things, not JUST Christian/Catholic religion. It depends wholey on the intent of the blessing and object. If someone were to sincerely cast a pentagram for healing and life, Paul would still be hurt by touching or being around it.
Marko: Boon - mockingbird/doppleganger. Marko has this neat little ability where as long as he's heard it enough, he can mimic a person's exact voice and certain sounds, and cast a false image of himself into reality. Like a mirror illusion. (Paul and Marko are literally 'smoke and mirrors' lol.) So don't go wandering out into a dark woods at night if you THINK you hear a baby crying, or your friend crying for help, especially if you don't KNOW it's them. Bane - He's affected the most by herbal wards against vampiric energy, ie, wild rose, garlic blossom, mountain ash, and such.
Michael: Bane - extra sensitivity to running water. The others can at least stand to take a shower, but Michael can barely even do that. He can't swim in a river, or the ocean. Full body burns as if he's stepped into the sun. Now, we go more into detail with this in the story, but Michael's Boon is a little odd, and makes more sense in the narrative. Memory visions. If he spends enough time around you, he will eventually start getting visions of your memories.
Also, as something else to look over as background for how the world works, here is a post detailing magic and what...vampires even are. Short answer: they're a kind of fae. The old kind. Spooky, dangerous, scary, powerful. It goes more into detail than needs be here.
But uh. Yeah. Headcanons for the worldbuilding of the world the Lost Boys inhabit. There's a lot more, but that ties a bit more firmly into the story of You Can't Cath Me. Again, any questions you might have, feel free to ask us! You can also find more little tidbits collected under my Lost Boys Masterlist in my pinned blog post.
Thanks for showing interest! We adore talking about this stuff. :>
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fastfur07 · 1 year
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Treasury
CW: Vore
This one has been sitting around for a while without an introduction, so I just slapped one on. I was "trying something new", apparently.
Soft, safe vore, semi-unwilling pred.
The maid had been assigned to take care of the palace’s dragon, and she had no idea what to expect. She’d heard dragons were huge and frightening, and killed humans for fun, but that couldn’t be true, right? If it was, she was expendable.
She went back over the details of her assignment: do whatever the dragon tells you, and help it any way you can. Simple enough, she thought, and knocked on the door to the beast’s quarters.
The door was answered by the dragon itself. It was smaller than the maid had expected, but still long and graceful, and adorned with yellow and red scales. “H-hello,” she whispered, not daring to make eye contact.
“Hello,” replied the dragon, in a surprisingly friendly voice. “You must be the maid they sent for me. Come in, it’s almost lunchtime.”
The maid followed it into an impressive dining room, its table laden with all kinds of food. The maid couldn’t stop her mouth from watering, but she resisted.
“You’re supposed to be serving me, aren’t you?” the dragon questioned.
“Yes, yes,” the maid replied hastily, standing to attention.
“Well, relax. I’m not going to boss you around. Let’s just talk,” it offered, taking its position at the head of the table.
The maid, feeling like there was no other choice, sat at the other end, and waited for the dragon to begin.
---
"The problem is, I'm always hungry," the dragon pondered, using the pause to tear a huge chunk of meat off an oversized skewer.
"They give me so much food, and of course I'm satiated by it, but there's some part of me that always wants more." Finishing the skewer, it moved on to an equally giant bowl of noodles, and the maid simply watched and listened. She knew dragons had appetites, but how could one so small put away a meal so large?
"It's like there's this aching void, somewhere deep down in my throat, and I try my best to fill it…" The dragon licked the dregs from the bowl, already eyeing up some kind of roast. With all the grace and restraint of a starving waterfowl, it snapped its jaws shut around the dish and gulped it down, whole. The bite was big enough to make a lump appear in the dragon's throat, and the maid was fascinated to see it roll downward and disappear.
"... But as soon as I swallow, the food just goes past it into my stomach, and I don't feel any better."
The dragon kept talking as it ate, and gradually the table emptied. At the far end, next to where the maid was sitting, was an enormous jug, full of water or perhaps wine, as tall and wide as a man with arms outstretched. The dragon climbed up over the lip and lowered its head inside, preparing to wash down its meal.
Unsure of what to do now, the maid remained still and silent. She could hear the dragon swallow, the sound echoing through the jug and out into the room. It slid further in as the drink dwindled, each gulp sounding more hollow and waterlogged than the last.
Finally, the dragon’s head emerged from the jug. It licked its lips, before letting out a tremendous belch. Dragons seemed not to have manners, the maid mused, but she was still quietly in awe at this creature.
“Which of course is not to say that the food they give me isn’t worth eating,” concluded the dragon, clambering down and sitting next to the maid. It rested a hand on its belly, which had grown round and taut: it was certainly very full, but there was nothing to suggest it had just eaten enough to feed ten people. “I only wish there was some way to appreciate my meals a little more."
The dragon glanced wistfully into space before remembering itself and turning to leave.
“I’ll need a few hours to digest,” it called to the maid as it plodded away. “Please take care of yourself in the meantime."
The maid was soon lost in thought. She'd been assigned to tend to the dragon and fix its problems - and wasn't this a problem? Surely she should attempt to help it with its hunger. 
Then she realised she didn't really know anything about dragons. "Easily fixed," she muttered to herself, getting up from the table and heading in the direction of the library.
---
The maid sat at the dining table, flipping through a heavy book. She'd borrowed a jade necklace from the treasury, and was fidgeting with the strap as she read. Hearing the dragon's heavy footsteps, she quickly closed the book, awaiting its instruction.
The dragon, however, seemed curious. It sidled up to the human, inspecting the cover of the book. It didn't understand human writing, so it asked, "What is that?"
"I thought I would help you with your eating problem," explained the maid. "I'm reading about dragon anatomy."
"What?" The dragon tried to hide its surprise. "I didn't need help with it."
"Maybe not, but it's my duty to assist you in any way I can. Look at this," the maid added, showing the dragon a page. "It says your dragon species used to transport jade in their bellies."
"I never did that."
"Maybe not, but it means that if you swallow any jade, your stomach should automatically clear away any acid," the maid explained.
The dragon looked bewildered. "Why are you telling me this?"
The maid took a deep breath. "Because, if it's true, I should be able to use this" - she drew attention to the necklace - "to go inside you and figure out what's wrong."
An awkward silence fell over the room. It took the dragon a moment to comprehend the maid's statement, but once it did, it drew back in horror, rearing up almost comically: "What?? No! Why would you say that?"
The maid didn't have a response to this.
"You could die!" the dragon urged.
"Maybe I could, but you're a dragon, and I'm just a human - and a human who only follows orders, at that,” the maid added, with a hint of resignation. “If it came to it, I'd lay down my life to serve you."
A tear welled in the dragon’s eye. “I…” it slurred, and the maid was taken aback: she had never seen a dragon cry. She’d thought they wouldn’t have reason to.
The dragon sucked in a breath and dived into its coils. It buried its face, covering its head with its hands, and began choking back sobs. The maid immediately rushed to its side: "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… please don't cry!"
"D… don't die for me…" the dragon pleaded. "You're so sweet… I couldn't bear to…" 
It couldn't finish its sentence before dissolving into wails again. Hesitantly, the maid gave it a gentle rub along its slender neck. "Ssh. It's okay. I'm not going to die."
"B... b… but what if it doesn't work? You'd be digested! I…" The dragon groaned. "Oh, but I'm still so HUNGRY…"
The maid continued to comfort the dragon as its thoughts swam, and after a while, it lifted its head to look at her. It sniffed. "Okay… I'm willing to try it."
"If you don't want to, that's okay," the maid insisted. "You're the one in charge here."
"Well… I do want to get rid of this emptiness." The dragon looked uneasily at the maid, its eyes still glistening with tears. "I've felt it for so long… but I would never let someone else come to harm to serve myself." 
"I'll try your idea," it continued. "But if anything goes wrong, we'll need to make sure you can get out okay."
A few seconds passed before the dragon finished its thought. "Go find some rope." 
The maid stood up, obediently, but not without concern.
---
A few minutes later, the maid returned with a length of silk cord. "Don't ask me where I got this," she sighed.
"Tie one end around your waist," the dragon instructed, "so I can pull you back up if something goes wrong."
The maid did as she was told. "Are you really sure you want to do this?" she asked. "It was only a suggestion."
The dragon tried to look confident. "Yes. We'll never fix anything if we don't try, and now we know you'll be safe."
"Well, in that case, open up."
The dragon felt like a paranoid child visiting the dentist. Slowly, it forced itself to part its lips. As its maw opened up in front of the maid, she picked up the necklace and tossed it in.
The dragon gagged, and the maid couldn't help but smile: what had happened to its appetite? When it finally swallowed, she gave it a few seconds to collect itself before asking, "Do you feel any different?"
"Well… not really…" the dragon pondered, looking down at its middle. "If anything, I feel even emptier."
"That might mean it's working!" The maid adjusted her tether. "Okay, my turn."
"Wait! Wait wait wait!" The dragon skittered backwards, then stopped and took another deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready."
Its jaws inched apart again, and the maid dropped to her hands and knees. She gently crawled inside, avoiding the dragon's fangs, until she was lying on a quivering tongue.
"Whenever you're ready," she called.
The dragon tried to reply, but with its jaws forced open and a heavy weight holding its tongue down, it could only manage small sounds. It held tightly to the other end of the rope and forced itself to swallow - but nothing happened.
A feeling of apprehension came over the maid when she saw the dragon's throat flex. "Are you okay?" she asked.
The dragon's jaw started to ache. It tried swallowing again, but there was still no movement. The maid was simply too big. She realised this, and flattened herself to the floor of the living cavern, extending her arms in front of her. Another few seconds passed, and the dragon still hadn't managed to swallow.
Then, it noticed something.
A wonderful taste had filled its mouth, unlike anything it had tasted before. The dragon moved its tongue around, exploratively, and its mouth slowly filled with drool. Finally, it could hold on no longer, and let the taste slip down its throat.
“Mmmm.” The dragon give a satisfied sigh, running its tongue across its lips. Dreamily, it looked around the room: the maid was gone.
“Wait.”
Remembering what it had just eaten, the dragon saw the rope, and caught it before it could slither out of sight. Then it looked down at its belly. The maid was shuffling around inside, causing the surface to ripple and squirm. It felt as strange as it looked. The dragon approached with its free hand, but couldn’t bring itself to touch its skin. “A-... are you okay in there?”
“Well, there’s no acid,” replied the maid, her voice muffled, “so that’s a good sign.”
“... What’s it like inside me?” the dragon added, still concerned.
“It’s… dark. Cramped. Pretty warm, too. What you’d expect from being swallowed by a dragon.”
“And you’re not hurt? I didn’t accidentally bite you or anything?”
“No! You were very gentle,” the maid praised.
All the dragon could say to that was “Oh,” and there was another awkward silence. The dragon looked around, suddenly embarrassed. “What do I do now?” it wondered out loud.
“Just relax,” offered the maid. “Maybe lie down, so I can get around easier.”
“Okay.” The dragon left the dining room and headed to its bed, where it had been lying a few hours ago. Doing its best to lie flat, it settled into a comfortable position, and for a long while, all it did was watch the maid crawl up and down the length of its slender body. The sensation wasn’t so strange anymore: it was almost like a massage, but on the inside, where all the sore and tickly spots were.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” the maid eventually confessed, “but your stomach seems healthy enough.”
“Well, that’s good…” the dragon replied, suddenly sleepy. “When are you going to come out, though?”
“Well, how do you feel?”
The dragon tried to focus on itself and think about how it actually felt, but aside from the weight in its belly and the tiredness hanging over its head, there didn’t seem to be anything. Some kind of familiar itch was missing.
“W… wait!” the dragon suddenly yelled.
“What is it?”
“I feel… full! I actually feel full! All that hunger and emptiness I was feeling is gone! Whatever you did, it worked!” The dragon leapt up in celebration, causing the maid to slip down in its stomach.
“Oof. Uh, I didn’t really do anything.” The maid looked around awkwardly, despite the darkness. “Maybe it’s just me being in here that did it,” she ventured.
“In that case, can you stay? I mean, please stay!” The dragon fumbled with its words as it remembered its power. “I mean, I order you to stay!”
“You’re the boss.” The maid smiled to herself and settled down. She knew she was going to be in there for a long time - or at least, until the dragon’s next meal.
The end
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tea-earl-grey · 1 month
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @isagrimorie (thanks for the tag!)
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
only 9 lmao. you're never gonna guess what my fic writing weakness is.
2. What's your total Ao3 word count?
108,636 words
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Doctor Who (and various related fandoms. though funnily enough i've never posted a new who fic), Star Trek (currently just Star Trek Picard but i have a few Voyager wips too), and a single Steven Universe fic.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
this happiness is hell on earth – Steven Universe fanfic about Pearl and Rose's toxic relationship and Pearl learning to recover after the series
And They Became Monsters (the fall of great men) – Gallifrey/Bernice Summerfield/DWEU fic that's a novel length character study of Irving Braxiatel and started as a way to explain his timeline and then i was carried away by the themes.
The Office – a somewhat silly Gallifrey fic where Romana and Narvin fight over an office following Enemy Lines when Romana takes over the CIA
A Holiday – a fluffy Eighth Doctor audios fic where Eight, Liv, and Helen go on vacation and accidentally run into the Doctor's past...
What is Beautiful – Gallifrey fic where Narvin and Leela explore one of the Axis worlds alone and Leela makes Narvin see the beauty in the world
5. Do you respond to comments?
i try to! a few comments always get lost in the email weeds but i try to make an effort to respond.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
oh this is hidden lore because i wrote it before i had an ao3 account but i posted a Gallifrey fic called Hope in Times of War in 2015. it was on my old tumblr so i doubt that is survives online but was about Gallifrey succumbing to Rassilon's military dictatorship during the Time War and Romana, Brax, Leela, and Narvin all being separated and i remember Narvin was executed as part of military executions and well... no one else had a great time either. i've learned that i prefer writing bittersweet endings to purely angsty ones.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
i don't tend to go for outright happy 'everything's fine' type endings. the closest is probably What is Beautiful because it doesn't have much of a plot other than some musings on Narvin's character growth.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
on the one SU fic i wrote, i got a weird hate comment an hour after posting it and the commenter edited it like three times so it was no longer hate but just... vague disapproval and complaining about... not even my fic but just the standard interpretation of the show. anyways it didn't bother me but i did think it was funny how bothered this person was over the canonical fact that Pearl and Rose had a toxic relationship.
other than that, i don't really write for big enough fandoms or write controversial enough things to attract any hate.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
none published :) i've written some smut but i've been far too insecure to publish it because 1) i'm very ace and i think it shows in my writing and 2) some people i know irl have my ao3 and i tend to be conscious about how things i post could escape online containment. if i do publish any smut i'll probably publish it anonymously.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
again – none published. i have a few Gallifrey fusions i've sketched out before and one Gallifrey/Voyager crossover that i wrote a few pages of over the summer.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
nope but i would welcome it!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
nope! i think my writing habits are far too erratic to be a good co-writer but i love sending ideas back and forth with people.
14. What's your all time favorite ship?
the Gallifrey ot3. not even necessarily in a romantic sense, just in a 'these characters' lives forever revolve around each other and they can never escape even if they want desperately to leave' sense. Gallifrey was the first fandom that i was really dedicated to and spent a lot of time thinking about so these characters have permanently left a mark on my brain.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i only have one posted WIP that i am very much intent on finishing but as for my eternal drafts i have two notable ones that i still work on occasionally but will never be published in their current form:
Star Trek Perseverance – i challenged myself last spring/summer to create my own 20 episode season Star Trek series that i would want to see in the world. it's a slight AU of the end of Picard s3 where Seven and Raffi were given a new ship called Perseverance instead of the Ent G with a mostly OC cast of main characters and a more similar 90s vibe of an episodic series with different tones. i have an outline of all the s1 episodes and a few of the "scripts" written but yeah... writing 20 full length episode scripts is simply too much for me to tackle but i'm toying with the idea of adapting a few to prose/taking out the AU elements to publish because i do really love the "episodes" i wrote and it was fun to experiment with some comedy/light hearted stories which i tend not to write.
also during lockdown i started a 'Romana survives the Time War instead of the Doctor' AU of new who and i sketched out an outline of s1 (and some other big season plot points) but only wrote about 10 pages. it has some excellent writing tbh but given how long it would need to be, it's destined to live forever on my hard drive and in my head.
16. What are your writing strengths?
character voices 100% if i feel like i can't find a character's voice for whatever reason then i simply will not write for them. even when i go back to my old work, i cringe at the pacing/grammar errors, but generally i think the character voices are pretty on point.
i also like to think i've become pretty good at adding rhythm and pacing to my prose when i put in the effort. it's quite hard to do sometimes but it's so satisfying when it works. i'd never claim to be a poet but i love writing prose that just feels good and melodic to read aloud.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
... finishing things. or just committing to projects and ideas that i can actually follow through on.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
oof. i know enough Spanish (and Russian to a lesser extent) to get through some dialogue but i would very much want to run it by a fluent speaker first. however neither Spanish nor Russian have ever come up in my fics.
the only non-English languages that's come up in my fics are French and Latin. the French was for an abandoned fic and i asked my French-speaking friend to translate. the Latin was for ATBM and i'm pretty sure i ended up taking the line out because i didn't know any Latin speakers(?) (i mean it's a dead language so.... readers? translators?) and was too shy to ask a stranger.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
technically i wrote some HP fic in a notebook when i was 8 though i didn't know what fanfiction was at the time. (obligatory note that i'm not a HP fan or supporter right now given JKR's bigotries and hate speech)
20. Favorite fic you've written?
And They Became Monsters (the fall of great men) without a question. i poured my heart and soul into that beast and was the first time i wrote something that felt like Real Writing with Layers and Themes. when i was done i felt like my writing meant something more than the usual short fic i'd write. like at the end of the day it's a fanfic but it's also a critique of Great Men histories, a dissection of how art and the ways we view art perpetuates imperialism, studying how abuse causes abuse in cycles, how egotism stems from insecurity and slowly eats away at the self, how the self is just a performance and mask of something no one can ever name, and how sometimes the only thing you have to do to break away from cycles of tragedy and violence is to ask for help. (sorry i'm being too pretentious but i am very proud of my work on that one)
it was also the first time i feel like i put real effort into small details and experimented with them like tense – the story is told from the perspective of two versions of the same character and depending on the POV, the story is either told in past or present tense. there are even a few scenes when the two versions meet and i still narrate one's actions in present tense while the rest of the scene is in past tense to drive in how the present-tense character is quite literally out of place. there are also quite a few sections that i purposefully wrote as fragmented and run-on sentences to mimic the thought processes of someone having a breakdown/ideological crisis.
if i had to pick a favorite excerpt it would probably be the confrontation between the two different versions of Braxiatel:
He sighed. “You believe this is my fault? Deferring responsibility? Are you sure that you have grown up?”
“You were the one who lied. You told me I was a hero. You told me I would win the War. My future is Gallifrey’s future. Don’t you remember that?” Braxiatel wouldn’t rise to anger because he was better than that, he would never give up the game. (It’s always been a game.) 
“I told you that you mattered. All children believe they matter.” Neutral, impassive, infuriating. He wasn’t belittling. Maybe to him, Braxiatel was still a child – the wayward son fallen far away from a distant and demanding father. Maybe that was the truth. What a cruel family he’s created. Just another cycle. Ad infinitum.
And here they were, blame circulating around and around. Things would never be resolved. Things would never heal. Braxiatel didn’t even want to heal. He wanted to leave this jagged cut deep inside – so deep that maybe the wrong Braxiatel felt it – because if there was an ugly scar for all to see that meant all the hurt was real. His bitterness and anger was justified because wasn’t healing just erasing? Forgetting the hurt meant letting it happen again and again, and there’s another cycle because he just can’t seem to get away.
Tagging: I can't remember which of my mutuals are fic writers but if you see this feel free to fill it out!
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mythvoiced · 2 months
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-. wenzhe-core (pt. 3 the return of the jedi) (main-verse)
panic attacks
if he were an idol/celebrity most (thirst) edits about him would be about his hands
sipping quietly and stressfully on his drink while people talk about things he can't admit to being familiar with because it's Niche Queer Things
he loves cats, it's not mutual
dogs love him, it's not mutual (he likes dogs just fine enough, but... fine enough)
thinks he has a sweet tooth because he's always sucking on a lollipop or candy or chewing on sweet gum or getting popsicles in summers, it's not a sweet-tooth, it's an oral fixation
all his pencils from tween school years were covered in bite-marks as a result
undiagnosed in one way or another, probably adhd
"i don't get people who can just sleep on trains, like, what if you miss your stop" he says but if he's taking a train and it takes more than 20 minutes to get to his destination he will fall asleep
pastel colours terrorist group
childhood friends with latent romantic feelings trope but he got over it relatively quick (he thinks)
as answer to the question what kind of anime he watches: oh, you know, demon slayer, blue lock, stuff like that
the anime he watches: skip & loafer, a sign of affection, the apothecary's diaries
seeing auntie nao in skip & loafer made him really weird for a week straight before he repressed it again
*smacks him violently over the head* this baby can fit so much internalized [insert] in him
once i finish the apothecary's diaries, by the way, i AM making a verse for him in that
"i don't really like children all that much" *a child hands him something to hold onto for them and he's visibly holding back tears*
he's actually REALLY weird about catching feelings i cannot stress this enough
if a girl he's into playfully smacks him around and leans into him he'll go home and scream into his pillow
if a guy he likes ruffles his hair and tells him to take it easy, cheer up, he'll go home and bang his head against the wall
in terms of non-binary people they're usually way out of his league
this IS his canonical hair-length (this guy is starting to piss me off btw the fucking gender envy i swear--)
also that last one was just me wanting to show you his manga fc again ♥
in terms of type of people he likes (both romantic and platonic, actually, they tend to overlap) he likes people who are (subjectively at the very least) mentally and emotionally stronger than him, people who can say no but are still kind
he doesn't have anything against meeker, more submissive personality types but he will usually create a stronger imbalance here where he'll try to be less of a friend and more of a caretaker
watching a historical/period romance: this is?? what is this, wow, i can't even tell what fake past this is supposed to be inspired by because the clothes sure won't tell me, the inaccuracy, the liberties-- wait, what are you doing, no don't turn it off, the second daughter just helped the love interest infiltrate back into the city which means all of qianqian's work to get him out of the city to avoid his death are for nought plus su mu just rejected the first daughter again and she stood up for the first time to chase after him and-
actually while putting this together i realized that childhood friends crush might have been a lot more serious than anticipated
i am casting the other lead as qianru btw because i can use content like this and bc it suits the personality i'm developing for her
also yes i am not kidding it's bad wenzhe might have straight up been in love with qianru we're- RUH ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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kinocomix · 5 months
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untitled project devlog #5: Murder mystery and the art of 50 cent plushies from the sunday market 
A common thread among people who watch shows like NCIS or similar formulaic police shows -where the protagonist is a stoic wall of muscle surrounded by their coworkers who end up being more friends than coworkers- is to predict what’s happening. You frequently hear people go “I knew it was [blank] all along!” Which makes sense, that’s part of the appeal of these shows and how they’re written. You’re MEANT to be hooked in by the incomplete information, that’s the crux of ARGs like the mandela catalogue and marble hornets, lonelygirl15 before Austin Mcconel took over (his words not mine)
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sidenote, Sarah from the mandela catalogue is an alternate I’M CALLING IT NOW, this bitch is sus as fuck.
Back to my point, mystery in fiction is a promise made by the author, that promise being that once it’s cemented itself in the logic of the world it inhabits (think how in the mandela catalogue the first few installments were introducing you to the idea of the demons that try to copy people) it’ll slowly unravel itself to the point where its cards are eventually there on the table, and it’s up to you to go back and see how you could have read them better. a good mystery makes the act of solving it equally as fascinating as the solution -that’s why agatha christie tends to be timeless whereas the appeal of shows like NCIS is eventually delegated to the character arcs and set pieces.
In the documentary free solo, Alex Honnold is on a mission to climb El Capitan, in Yosemite National Park with no safety equipment. The actual bit in the documentary where he does the climbing is around 5 to 10 minutes of the 100 minute long runtime of the film. the argument could be made that they could just upload the 5 minute montage of the climb to youtube, and for the extra vicarious thrillseekers low key on the autism spectrum like me, the unedited 3.5 hour long footage of him raw dogging the mountain. But that’s not what documentaries are the same way detective movies aren’t 20 minute podcasts of someone dryly reciting a police file. Documentaries aim to use the language and vocabulary of cinema to discuss everyday ideas. that’s why free solo spends 80 minutes teaching you about climbing as an art, showing you Alex the human, his friends, the shortcomings of other free soloists who died climbing and THEN shows you the 5 minute montage… because at that point the stakes are so high -appropriately so- that the shots of the camera man not being able to look in his viewfinder out of fear of filming someone’s death become intensely real. Alex becomes more than just the visualized idea of the climber, he’s THE climber Alex. The madman who wants to see something done. The friend, the human. It's about narrative delivery, the balance between tension and release. 
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This is interesting to consider because the information here is essentially the same, but one feels much more interesting. This same idea is why some science communicators like Hank Green and Bill Nye do a much better job at making you interested in science than most articles on google scholar, it’s the same information but more approachable and digestible. what i”m getting at here is that most things can be very interesting if you put this twist on them, even removed from the context of media: you’re not just talking to your racist boomer uncle, you’re privy to a front row seat into what makes someone grow up to be a racist shithead, which is significantly more interesting. When you shift your thinking into wanting to understand what’s behind the information, life becomes as thrilling and mysterious as a murder novel.
Now let’s apply this paradigm to something like this plushie I bought for 50 cents from the sunday market, and as you’ll see it’s going to raise a very interesting question regarding naturalistic storytelling. 
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I did not take a picture of it when I found it but it was very dirty, I had to wash it twice, and you can see how damaged it was, there were tears on the front as well and half the stitches connecting the head to the body were gone.
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Here it is after it was fully sewed back up, I opted to highlight the patches because I think it shows the history behind the plush, and because I’ve been watching a lot of Baumgartner restoration videos lately and Julian would take away my fabric privileges if I covered up more than is needed.
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also yes, it’s being propped up with an empty jar of tahini, it is delicious and I will not be taking feedback at this time. I want to direct your attention at this Logo here:
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now if you search for “Herz’l plush” you get a bunch of disconcerting anatomically correct heart plushies that are sure to stab me in my sleep that are wildly unrelated to the brand. Unsurprising, it’s german for “my heart”
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a bit of extra digging and you might come across this german reseller website with some plushies with the same tag, but nothing useful to our search is mentioned…
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https://www.kleinanzeigen.de/s-anzeige/spiralplueschtier-schlange-herz-l-pluesch-kuscheltier/1850047318-23-4712
so… that’s a bust. What about the other side of the tag?
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okay… not too sure of what to make of that. But that’s what search engines are for, let’s try “seneca”:
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Oh it’s… a Stoic philosopher. Okay what about “seneca Hamburg?” 
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https://www.ebay.de/itm/125112346754
more ebay listings. great. okay fine, let’s ask the internet for help
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I see. surely someone knows SOMETHING.
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ok wow this thing is… old.
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of course! The german trademark register. I feel dumb. let’s see what’s in there:
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oh god oh jesus what is all this why is there a giant block of text is THAT-
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okay so they made the plushie but why is it so FUCKING obscure? At this point I remembered I have a German lawyer friend. Everyone needs to have a German lawyer friend.
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okay! now we know what to actually search for.
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https://www.northdata.com/Terrex+Handels-AG,+Oststeinbek/Amtsgericht+L%C3%BCbeck+HRB+1610+RE
liquidation? so… they never renewed the trademark cause there was no more company. seems like they weren’t doing too well either. looks like at some point they did a merger with another company. Then not too soon later liquidated it… thanks to my dear lawyer friend here, I can tell you this:
“Every company is owned by a larger company, which is the shell company of a different company. At the end, you figure out all companies are owned by like 3-5 companies”
To recap, here’s what we learned about the tag on our plushie:
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The plushie is exactly 30 years old as of 2023. This is not to mention that I learned about how companies buy each other like stocks, how there’s something called forensic accounting because of that, that the “China export” thing is just a myth*, and more…
*https://www.europarl.europa.eu/doceo/document/P-6-2007-5938-ASW_EN.html?redirect
so this is where we ended up:
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It’s possible I may have gotten carried away. Setting that aside for a moment, this is what I mean when I say mysteries are good because they make you learn and explore. Sometimes, connections and breakthroughs are made because of things like a plushie that you would have otherwise completely ignored. 
What this has to do with naturalistic storytelling is how it highlights the fact that life is messy. Despite the fact that I hyper fixated on this plush for hours, there’s a lot I still don’t know about it. I have a general overview of the situation for sure, I know it was made in Germany in 1993, and stuff about the company that made it but that’s about it. Good mysteries stay puzzling even after you solve them because LIFE is mysterious. The balance here is how much do you show the reader, and how much do you leave unanswered? The way I’ve personally found that deals with this has to do with format and layered storytelling.
There's one thing that comics do that will always be superior to other media and that is layered storytelling. Not to be confused with how films have a plots and b plots, or how books can choose to switch the focus of the scene onto something different: layered storytelling is when multiple pieces of information are being conveyed at once.
a very straight forward example oh what i mean is how in this section in my comic “Almost home” when Graham is having a conversation with a mysterious person who randomly shows up to see them:
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In addition to the conversation being had, there’s this cypher in the background that you would have found the key to prior in the comic. The existence of a parallel piece of information that you can switch your attention to if you so desire is what makes this parallel storytelling. The reason I don’t think this could work in film is because in a comic, you dictate the speed at which the media is occurring. If you stop reading a speech bubble, that doesn’t mean the story is paused, it just means you’re focusing on the moment the panel is trying to show you; and different people do this differently.
In this panel, you’re free to choose whether or not the ciphered text is being narrated or not because focusing on it is optional and doesn't take away from your ability to understand what’s happening immediately in front of you. You’re free to read all of my comics without engaging with a single thing I put in the background and it will still provide a satisfying and emotional experience. Games also do this when done right, an excellent example is “Night in the woods” and how you’re free to ignore most of the town, or sidequests for example. 
Another example is an unreleased project of mine still in early development called “the ice cream men”. The story follows two aliens who get stuck on earth and set about trying to make ice cream, shenanigans and existentialism ensue. In the book there’s an entire second narrative told in the form of writings on walls and random journal entries that they find that they just can’t read because… they’re aliens. To them this is just a big abandoned planet with a single cat on it, but to the reader with the ability to see everything… HOO BOY.
This is something I love incorporating into fiction. I think it gives things more depth if done right, and can act like the mystery of a detective novel or an ARG. Obviously this doesn't always work, sometimes the beauty of a story is its simplicity, or by how in your face it is about being analyzed. Not every idea needs or can even handle the additional weight of parallel storytelling.  And that’s where dogs come in.
but I can’t talk about that now, we’ll have to leave it until next week.
Devlog updates on tuesdays.
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Karube Brother Angst
First angst fic, enjoy :)
Tw: mention of SA, mention of su!cide attempt, violence
(y/n) Karube, younger brother of Daikichi Karube. He’d gone missing only a few months before his brother had arrived in the borderlands. Karube hadn’t known that his brother had vanished, being distant from the family wasn’t helpful for that. When they bumped into each other during Tag, it was quite a shock for (y/n).
“Daikichi?” He questioned, pausing briefly.
“(y/n)?” His brother looked back at him. Just then, the tagger rounded the corner and (y/n) took off, getting hit in the arm by a bullet. Karube followed him, running down the stairs.
“What are you doing here?” Karube asked. His high school age brother was playing a deadly game. Of course he’d be a little angry.
“What are you doing here?? I’ve been trying to get back for so long!” (y/n) answered, falling when he bumped into someone buff.
“Careful there- oh, (y/n). Still considering our offer?” One of the men asked. The buff man that he’d bumped into just looked at him with tired eyes.
“I already told you no. I won’t work for you.” (y/n) shook his head, sucking in a breath at the pain in his arm.
“If you joined us, we could get that wound in your abdomen all healed up~” The other man said in a sing-song voice.
“The wound your crazy man gave me??” He asked, referring to Niragi.
“Calm down, we’ll talk after the game. For now, we have to take care of the tagger.” The big guy said, sending a glare to his underlings.
They devised a plan together, Karube forcing his brother to patch his wound and sit out of the fight. (y/n) watched Aguni and Karube fight the tagger, discarding the gun only for them to pull out a machete. Karube got slashed in the side and Aguni had a large cut over his eye.
“You’re so hard-headed.” (y/n) said afterwards, dressing his brother’s wound. Karube was silent, watching his brother carefully tend to the wound in the hotel they camped in.
“Where did you learn to take care of injuries like that?” Karube asked when (y/n) cleaned up the supplies.
“You have to learn if you want to survive. These games are designed to kill or be killed. No one here wants to die.” He sighed.
“What did they mean? Wound in your abdomen?” Karube asked, hissing as he sat up.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ll see if we have pain killers.” He got up, walking off. Coming back a minute later, Karube’s eyes didn’t miss the way his brother limped and grimaced if he moved around too much.
“How are you hurt, (y/n)?” Karube tried again, not taking no for an answer this time.
(y/n) sighed, lifting his shirt to expose what looked like a brand and a gunshot wound. Karube’s eyes went wide.
“Who did this?” (y/n) fixed his shirt and sighed, sitting down next to his brother and slumping against his uninjured side.
“I ran into this group of guys not long ago. It was a diamonds game and they relied on me to get them through it. It wasn’t a hard game, find the word before the time runs out or get flooded by lava. Three rounds decreasing in time with the longest set at 5 minutes. After the game, there was this guy with a lot of piercings who said he found me hot and wanted me to go with him and his goons to their base. He believed I would be a valuable… ‘asset’ to their mission. I refused and he got upset, had his goons tie me down in the bed of their truck and branded me. I kept struggling and resisting so he shot me. Ten minutes before they were called off by that buff guy you met tonight. Aguni offered me a spot among their ranks, told me that their leader would be pleased to have someone who’d collected so many cards but told me it was my choice whether I wanted to go with them or not. I ran away and have been avoiding them since.” He explained. Karube felt his heart sink and bile creep into his throat. “I was going to die in the tag game. I failed in the game before because it was designed for people who wanted to die. But you showed up.”
“(y/n), I’m sorry I wasn’t able to find you sooner. I would’ve been looking for you but mom didn’t tell me you were missing.” Karube hugged his brother, who cried lightly into his musty shirt.
“It’s ok. I’ve been fine on my own.” He said, trying to sound ok for his older brother. He cried himself to sleep in the arms of Karube.
Chota and Shibuki needed to play a game. (y/n) wanted to come with and help them but Karube insisted that he stay back, telling him he needed a break.
“Don’t be such a hard-head.” (y/n) huffed, crossing his arms.
“(y/n), how many days do you have on your visa?” Karube asked.
“...20.” He muttered.
“Woah! You’ve played a lot of games?” Arisu asked.
“Yeah, dumbass hasn’t taken a break. Sit this one out, you’ll see us when we get back.” Karube patted his brother on the head, walking out.
He didn’t see them when they came back. It took a week before Arisu showed up again.
“Where have you been!?” (y/n) asked.
“I’m…sorry.” Arisu sighed.
“Where’s Daikichi?” He looked around, noticing that Arisu was alone. He stayed silent, not responding. “Arisu, where’s my brother.”
“I’m sorry. It was a hearts game a-and they hid themselves. I didn’t want to win!” Arisu teared up. (y/n) looked at him, completely shocked. He blinked after a minute of Arisu pathetically crying before him. Eyebrows furrowing in anger, he slapped Arisu and sent him to the floor.
“You let him die!? You let him die so that pathetic, groveling you could live?!” (y/n) yelled. He took a shaky breath and walked off, leaving Arisu on the floor.
Weeks later, he was patrolling the Beach with the militants. Even though he wasn’t among their ranks, he grew fond of many of them. He’d heard about a couple new arrivals and went with Aguni to investigate them.
“Why are we doing this? It’s boring.” He sighed as they circled the pool. His hair had grown out and become a little shaggy. He’d been given a tattoo of a Spade from Hatter and his wound had been mended by An.
“You’re the one who said you were curious.” Aguni glanced at the smaller boy with a raised brow. He’d grown affectionate towards (y/n), seeing him as a younger brother and filling the empty shoes of Daikichi Karube.
“Ugh, yeah but Hatter said we’d meet the important one…later.” He paused, stopping when he noticed the newcomers. “You.”
“Oh, the one from the tag game. Wasn’t he friends with your brother?” Aguni asked. (y/n) just scoffed, flicking up his hoodie.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Niragi asked, slinging an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders and looking between him and Arisu.
“Down, Niragi.” Aguni said, not looking at his more chaotic underling. He sighed, licking (y/n)’s neck before backing off.
“Find me later, I’ll be with An and Mira.” (y/n) groaned, wiping off Niragi’s nasty ass saliva and walking past them.
He sighed, sitting on Mira’s bed.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Mira asked in her creepy tone.
“One, Niragi is gross. Two, Arisu is here.” He sighed. Mira poured him a glass of wine.
“It’ll all be ok.” She smiled. “All will be well.” The last words (y/n) heard before he passed out.
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Here you are, anon, one retired-DI-now-vicar-of-Broadchurch Alec Hardy story, coming right up!
Warning: mentioned murder
On with the fic!
--
He saw them before they spotted him and Hardy sighed, hands in his pockets as he decided it wouldn’t be wise to just turn away and close the doors to the church. He knew better than to turn away investigating officers, especially for such a horrendous crime.
“Good afternoon.” He greeted, trying to be polite, trying to keep a level voice. Instinct itched at him, had been for days now, since the boy was discovered, since the investigation started.
“Afternoon, father.” DS Coates greeted.
“Hello, we need to have a few words with you, father.” DI Miller nodded.
Hardy sighed and gestured to the door. “Am I in trouble?” He asked, knowing that it was standard procedure to ask anyone who had some sort of tie to the victim. Hardy only had a brief one since his arrival to Broadchurch a little over two months back. He had offered to help with computer lessons, something he was asked to do, a local community thing or something, everyone did something to help around here. 
Danny and Miller’s boy had a few lessons with him, simple as that, Hardy didn’t really know much about the boy except he seemed a bit closed off at times.
“You’re not in trouble.” Coates said, smiling, he was too nice, too soft, had he ever been involved in anything more serious than a possible bit of delinquency around here? “Beth gave us a list of people in town that we should speak with about Danny.”
“Are you free right now?” Miller asked as Hardy opened the door for them, since neither seemed like they were going to just walk into the bloody church without him doing it, oh Lord. 
“I tend to be free more than I probably should.” Hardy replied as he followed them in, offering for them to sit in the front pews. “But that’s neither here nor there, what do you need to ask me?”
Simple questions, really, asking what his relationship with the victim was (local vicar, tutor, and someone his grandmother seemed to see as a friend for some reason), when was the last time he had seen the victim (the day before, doing his paper route), seen any suspicious activity (a lot, but it was hard to narrow it down to the case since Hardy really hadn’t been trying to know anyone in town).
The questions weren’t going to give them much information if Hardy didn’t actually sit there and talk, giving the right amount of details, things easy to remember and that would stand out, no need for filler, no need for nonsense. Those were signs of rehearsed answers, or making up shit in the moment.
Hardy knew this song and dance, but he kept it casual, best they didn’t know he knew what he knew. The itch was still there, he hated it, he watched to scratch it. 
“If it’s any help,” he risked, “Danny had asked me an interesting question just days before everything happened.”
This seemed to catch the detectives’ attention. “What sort of question?” Miller asked, she was tapping her fingers, she was nervous, had she ever been involved in a case like this before? No, probably not, especially not one so close to home for her. Even though Hardy didn’t know many here, Elizabeth had told him that she worried for Miller, that she was taking this hard.
Hardy knew that some cases could really get to you.
His chest felt tight, he hoped this interview would be over quickly.
“He asked me how easily people could figure you out from an e-mail, even if you used a whole different name and not a common password you normally use, and one you log out of every time you were doing checking it.” Hardy sighed, rubbing at his eye. “I told him it depended, sometimes it was from quirks in your writing, on certain subject matter. He seemed troubled by it, then asked about texts. I said it was the same thing, even if you had a different number. That really seemed to bother him, then he thanked me and left, and he stopped attending his lessons.”
Coates and Miller looked at one another, concerned. “I suspect that from those questions, he might be e-mailing or texting someone he shouldn’t. Have you checked his laptop? His mobile?” 
“That’s not really something we can tell you...” Coates frowned, smart.
“But thank you for the information, we’ll look into it, check with his family and his friends, see if they know anything about it.” Miller said as she stood. “Good day, reverend.”
“Glad to be of some service.” The itch wasn’t as annoying, but it was still there. “And please, just... Hardy, that’s fine.”
The two looked at him strangely, as if a man in his position not wanting to be addressed by any of his titles was an unusual thing. Hardy wasn’t used to it, it still felt weird.
He watched them take their leave before he sat down, running a hand through his hair. Could he do this again, could he get through another case like this, even if he wasn’t the one trying to solve it?
He looked up at the cross at the altar, sighing. “I hope you have a good answer to that.” 
--
I haven’t watched Broadchurch in a while (btw, I JUST found out that the local PBS for my state actually plays episodes of this show??? What the hell???), but I know that Coates gave Ellie and Hardy information that helped them in the case, but that happened much later in the season. For this, I wanted Hardy to start helping earlier on.
Also, I figured being there for about two months was enough time to settle in, not just coming in days before all hell broke loose like in canon. 
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athenianalchemist · 2 years
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Ectoberhaunt 22 Day 12: Cause of Death
Ao3
Danny couldn't stop shaking.
Why could he stop shaking?
It was one stupid question he didn't even bother to answer.
So, why was he acting like this? Wasn't he supposed to be the town hero? He fought scarier things on a daily basis. Hell, he beat Pariah Dark in single combat, he shouldn't be afraid of a reporter of all people. 
But the way he threw out that question so casually, as if not fully understanding the weight of what he was asking.
He should have just brushed it off. Played it off with a joke like he always does. But no he ran away like a dog with his tail between his legs. He could almost imagine the headlines tomorrow morning "Hero or Zero: Town Hero Really a Sorry Loser Scared of a Simple Question". He's sure everyone would get a laugh out of that.
He huffed, barely noticing the way his breath froze in the chilly night air.
“What’s got you so sulky, brat?”
“Leave me alone, Ember.”
“Ooh, didn’t take you for the brooding type," Ember laughed.
“Just drop it.”
“Seriously, you okay, baby-bop?"
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid," Danny said trying to turn away.
“Doesn’t seem stupid”
“Why do you even care?
“I don’t,” Ember said plopping down next to him on the roof, “But it’s not as fun trying to take over the world if you ain’t chasing me down. And you’re not gonna do that if you’re off here sulking.
Danny let out a weak laugh, “You know most people trying to take over the world will be happy if no one was there to stop them.”
“I’m hurt, baby pop. Don't you know I'm not like other girls." 
“I suppose that's true," Danny said, chuckling slightly.
“That I am. But don’t think I don’t see you dancing around the question."
“Like I said, it was stupid. Don’t worry about it."
“Too late, I'm invested. So stop wasting my time."
Danny was quiet for a moment, before mumbling under his breath.
“Gonna have to speak up, dude,” Ember growled, patience running thin.
“Lance Thunser asked me how I died," Danny half-shouted.
Ember froze for a beat, “The reporter?"
“Yeah..?"
“I’m gonna kill him,” Ember said moving to stand up, only stopping as Danny gripped her arm.
“No don’t,” Danny said with pleading eyes, “He didn’t know, okay?”
“That doesn’t matter, you can’t just ask someone that!"
“It’s not like humans know much about ghost etiquette. Besides, it's fine. I don’t even know why I’m acting like this. I’m ok with it. I’ve come to terms with it. And heck, I'm still at least partially alive, I don’t have it nearly as bad as the rest of you.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t hurt as much. Especially when some idiot throws it right in your face.”
“I guess."
“You guess." Ember laughed, "Dude, dying tends to be one of the most traumatising events in a ghost’s existence. Just because you half-survived it doesn’t mean the trauma goes away. And just because you’ve come to terms with it, doesn’t mean it still can’t hurt you."
"But it shouldn't," Danny growled, "I'm supposed to be better than that. Stronger than that. The arrogant, goofball Hero that always saves the day with a smile. I'm not supposed to freak out because someone asked me how I-" Danny choked. 
“Phantom- Danny, I’ve been dead for a lot longer than you, but even I feel shitty whenever my death is brought up. Hell, I think you’re handling it a whole lot better than I ever have.
“Are you trying to sound like Jazz?"
“Well, maybe Jazz is trying to sound like me."
Danny laughed at that.
“Feeling better?"
“A bit."
“Well does that mean you’re finally up for a fight?"
“Su-,” Danny stopped himself, “Actually no. Do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?"
“Sure thing. I’ll let the others know as well,” She said, ruffling his hair.
Danny batted her hands away, before glaring at her, “Please tell me that doesn’t mean you’re gonna team up on me again."
“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see."
“Ember."
“Get your rest, baby bop, you’re gonna need it,” She said, speeding off into the night sky.
Danny just shook his head before taking off after her.
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marukrawler · 2 years
Text
Keith and Mira's weird relationship and why it's sus™ af: a powerpoint presentation by me ✨
Mira's obsession with her brother is as clear as day, but season 2 decides to take it a step further by sprinkling in some incestuous undertones to their interactions and the way their relationship is perceived. It's not as blatant in some cases while others will make you question the nature of their relationship for sure.
I'd say the first time people start to notice is when this picture was shown on Keith's laptop in episode 7. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say you could show this to someone who hadn't watched the show and they would probably think Keith and Mira were dating.
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Flowers framing the two of them, Mira with her hand on her brother's chest, a bouquet of flowers in her other hand as Keith stares at her blushing face? There are tons of different ways this shot could've been drawn that wouldn't look nearly as suspect.
Speaking of Mira blushing, she tends to do that a lot around Keith.
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Mira is mostly shipped with Dan and Ace and yet, the only time she blushed around either of them was in episode 37, during a scene that was cut from the English dub. There are a couple of characters in this show who have siblings but Mira's the only one who acts like this around hers.
Next up is episode 21 aka. the weirdest fucking episode of them all.
The atmosphere during the first part of the dinner scene is unmistakably romantic, especially when Spectra removes his mask and says Mira's name. The way he talks and behaves around Mira in this episode is just 💀Even if he was trying to manipulate Mira into joining his cause, that doesn't change the fact that he was doing it by encouraging something between them.
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Spectra gifted Mira a dress to wear during their private dinner and then expressed disappointment when she didn't wear it during their battle. You can't explain this away at all, that's weird. Whether or not the dress was used as a ploy in order to manipulate Mira's feelings for him, he clearly enjoyed watching her wear it. That's why he's not wearing anything fancy for the dinner himself, because the dress was also for his viewing pleasure. He was feasting his eyes on her in it, so to speak.
That's not even mentioning how 'the villain gifts the heroine a nice dress and invites her to have dinner with him' is a typically romantic-coded trope in media.
Fun fact, the preview for episode 21 is the only preview in season 2 to feature a different music track. Every other preview uses the same track called 'bakugan battle brawlers' except for episode 20's preview of the next episode. The bgm used in that preview is the same one used during the dinner scene and it's called 'the door to ruin' 💀
vimeo
Next are the things that are a little more hidden but still add to the overall pile of evidence.
I've previously looked to flowers for clues on when Shun's birthday could be, and concluded that it was in May due to the vase containing roses and Japanese pink hydrangeas in Shiori's hospital room. Those flowers are typically given to mothers on Mother's Day in Japan.
So once again, I looked to flower language since the flower vase in the middle of the dinner table was emphasized during Mira and Spectra's meal (but cut from the English dub.)
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Moreover, I've also looked to song lyrics.
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The highlighted parts are ones that I find to be highly relating to Keith and Mira. If you look at the song as a whole, it sounds very tender and romantic.
And it's not the only reference.
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Again, romantic lyrics related to Mira and Keith.
And finally, the jealous teammates closest to these two.
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Gus was salty about Mira the entire time she was with Spectra and Ace likewise couldn't accept Keith right away and everyone called him out for being jealous.
Also TV tropes seem to sense something amiss with Mira and Keith too lol
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Personally I don't really care about whether it was completely one-sided or reciprocated or what have you, I just want it to be acknowledged that this isn't normal sibling behavior and the show was trying to paint their relationship in some type of way 💀Um, I guess thanks for coming to my ted talk lol
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onceuponanaromantic · 2 years
Text
Electrify
(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt FFF173: No Rest for the Wicked. Not related to anything else I’m working on, so enjoy this little cyberpunk family moment!)
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She wakes to a dimly lit room filled with the familiar scent of antiseptic. Despite all the technical advancements, one of the few that had remained was how the scent of antiseptics clung to skin and hospital clothes alike, despite the fact that it no longer stung the way bleach used to.
             Her older sibling looks down at her, tapping their pen against the edge of their tablet. “It’s two thirty-four a.m. Standard Southern Time, your fool sister is currently downstairs making a new brace for you because she thinks it’s her fault you fell out a window. You can look at a list of your injuries over there because you haven’t ever listened to me when I told you to stay in bed for years and I highly doubt you’re going to start now. I recommend you stay still and rest for at least a month before returning to field work but again, you’ve never listened to me so instead I will tell you that there’s a cot for you in your fool sister’s lab and she’s cleared most of the fire-related paraphernalia away from that area. Any questions?”
             “Nice to see you too, Soren.” She croaks out, testing her weight on her right arm. Said arm violently disagreed with it and made its disagreement well known. “In my defence, I didn’t expect to be thrown out the window and I did roll to try and take the impact off.”
           “Yes, that’s why you’re not dead.” Soren says, still looking down at their tablet. “Consider thanking your partner for doing the paperwork. I’ve filed the release forms though I recommend you hold still.”
             “Thanks, Su.” Her older sibling glares at her.
           “I thought you said you would be more careful after you were done with all that revolution things.”
           She shrugs. “I don’t see you scolding Aurum.”
           “That’s because you’re not around when I’m down in the lab. It’s not like either of you listen to me.”
           “Thanks, Su.”
             Her older sibling glares harder but does help her into a wheelchair so she doesn’t complain too much.
             The hospital corridors are glowing faintly with the clean fluorescent white that hurts her eyes. She tunes her hearing in, picking up on footsteps and the rustle of medical equipment and the chatter of other debriefs past the lobby. Technically speaking, she doesn’t need to give her reports as soon as she usually does but she tends to forget if she doesn’t do them immediately so it’s really just easier.
             When they finally reach the basement where her sister works, the first thing she hears is her younger sister’s voice. “-theoretical principles of Astruc’s theory-“            “It’s obvious.”
           The door opens with a tap of Soren’s card as her younger sister turns to the door, eyes wild. “Iris, tell Aurum that it’s important to understand theory-“            “It’s not.”
           “To explain what you’re doing for documentation purposes.” Her younger sister jabs one painted finger at the window for emphasis. “And don’t side with her just because she’s your twin.”            
           “Twin rights.” Her twin shrugs. “Did the brace work?”
           “Feels okay. Thanks.” She turns to Tori. “Did you ask Aurum to help you with your homework again?”            “You make it sound like I’m in primary school.” She opens her mouth, before Tori picks up the paper covered in symbols and waves it aggressively. “Not all of us can just skip past school and get an honorary doctorate later under their famous pseudonym!”
             “You can’t?” Aurum asks wryly, already fiddling with some metal thread thing again, the strange magnifying goggle thing attached to her eye. “I seem to forget that someone didn’t have any complaints when I held the electrical systems in the whole Agency headquarters hostage until they let someone move in.”
           “And you wonder why people are scared of you.” Soren said under their breath, having been ignored by all of them present. They raise their voice to be heard over all the squabbling. “All of you, one at a time. Aurum, I know perfectly well that you know the theory because you use it when you want to show off and explain something to people when you actually want them to understand what you’re doing. Iris, get in the cot and stop antagonising your younger sister. God, I have not missed this.”
           “Welcome back from the Sea, Soren.” Aurum says, deadpan.
           “Come back from the Sea, Soren. Never mind that down there, everyone respects me as the chief medical officer and actually listens. No, no, I come back because my sister writes to me to say she misses me. And then I do come back and what is the first thing I encounter? All my sisters arguing. About chemical enhancements to whatever that thing you’re doing is.” They turn to stare at the concerning black stain on the ceiling. “Most young women talk about cosmetics. Or the newest hologram technology. Or clothes. What do my sisters talk about? Chemical manipulation.”
           “Well, most young women don’t have honorary doctorates for their contributions to the Internet Revolution.”
           “And aren’t top of their field in the intelligence side of things!”
           “I agree.” Tori says.
             “No rest of the wicked.” Soren sighs. “Alright, get into the cot, you hellion. Don’t fall out of any other buildings.”
           “I can make you a grappling hook? Or an inflatable thing so you don’t get injured the next time you fall out a building?” Aurum says hopefully.
           “No. Falling. Out. Of. Buildings.”
           “It was strategic!” She turns to her twin. “Oh the flamethrower works by the way.”
           “I saw on the news.” Her twin replies. “It looks great in action! Most people think that it’s just electronics that’s the key but that’s why they don’t think about alloys and also, fire.”
           “You just like fire too much.” Soren says. “I still remember how you nearly burnt down our first apartment on accident.”
Iris grins at her sister, matching glints in their eyes, not noticing how the oldest and youngest respectively look alarmed at that.
             Well, it’s not like it could get better than purposefully situating themselves within a technological revolution, could it?
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serendipitallay · 2 years
Text
Bows ۰˚☽˚⁀➷。˚ Gwi Nam x Reader
Gwi Nam x Reader
warnings: wounds/cuts, and gwi nam ofc :)
Gwi Nam’s a bit of a softie in this one, since most of the fics I read abt him tend to make him a really smug asshole. (which he kinda is, lol)
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Y/N steadied herself against a table, taking a breather and clutching the stitch at her side. Damn, these zombies were fast.
She had been in the library, studying for a test when the outbreak started, a few zombies racing into the library, attacking anyone closest to them. The squelch of flesh being bitten into, and the screams of the terrified students engraved into her memory.
She had run, run all the way to a classroom that was the closest, and had no zombies in it. She didn’t know where she was right now. She didn’t care. The zombies that had been chasing her pressed themselves against the sliding windows, animalistic in their need to get to Y/N.
She stared at them, finding a few familiar faces in the crowd. A boy she sat with in her biology class, a girl she often said hi to when she walked down the halls. These people, she knew them before, to be living, sensible humans, but now they were mere shells of what they used to be. Human looking, be it a little deformed, but all animalistic instinct. All brutal cannibalistic monsters, without a shroud of humanity or sense left within them.
She only hoped that her friends, Cheong San, On-Jo and the others were safe.
She looked around the class, trying to find something to cover up the horrors that lurked outside the room, the only barrier between her and death mere sliding doors and windows. On the other side of the class were more windows, where zombies began noticing her and began pressing themselves against the glass.
Spotting posters and papers around the class, she looked through pencil cases, trying to find something that could be used to stick the papers on to the windows. She fished out a glue stick from one, and began her work. As she stuck them flat on the windows, she could feel them continuously bang harder and harder, and she feared the glass would fail on her and break, letting them in. She rushed to stick the last piece of paper in, and backed away, cautiously eyeing the now covered windows. Finally trusting that she’d be safe, she heaved a relieved breath.
Y/N sat on the floor, back against a wall with her knees to her chest. What the hell was she going to do now?
9th grade
Y/N was sat near the tennis courts, having her lunch and finishing up her physics homework.
She told her friends to go on without her, to leave her alone so she could actually finish it all.
“Y/N! Come on, let’s go eat together, please?” On-Jo protested, grabbing her arm.
“You guys always distract me, I need to do this!”
“Your grades are already high as it is, one unfinished assignment isn’t going to ruin them!”
“I’ll see you at home time later, okay?”
On-Jo stuck her tongue out at Y/N, crossing her arms and turning back to Gyeong Su and Cheong San.
Now she was here, alone, the serene tranquility calming as she tried solving the headache inducing questions.
She heard a groan come from somewhere near her, causing her to look up from her paper and to the source of the sound.
She found Gwi Nam, well known for being a bully, clutching his arm in pain, leaning against the gate of a tennis court and wincing.
Somehow despite all the rumors and talk around school about him beating kids up until they bruised and bled, she still felt bad for him, still felt bad for him feeling an ounce of the pain he had inflicted on to others.
She sighed, gathering her things into her tote bag and walking over to where he was.
He flinched at the sight of her standing in front of him, quickly regaining his composure and clearing his throat. “What do you want?”
“You hurt your arm.”
“I’m not blind, I can see th-”
“I can help wrap it.”
She reached into her bag and took out a small bag, her own little first aid kit her mother always bugged her into bringing to school, in case anything ever happened.
He didn’t say anything, stunned that he was even being offered help from someone he didn’t even know. An ounce of actual care being put in his direction, it felt nice, made him feel warm inside.
“You’re gonna want to take off your jacket for this.”
Gwi Nam felt as if he was in a trance, curiously watching Y/N and following what she said. He wanted to savour this moment for as long as he could.
Y/N took out an alcohol wipe, carefully lifting Gwi Nam’s sleeve up to get a better look at the cut. The blood was beginning to dry in some parts, but it was still very fresh.
“Get ready, cause this’ll sting.”
She pressed the alcohol wipe down, eliciting a hiss from Gwi Nam as he held back the insult he was about to shout at her. “Okay. Now I’m gonna wrap it.”
Taking out a gauze roll, Y/N began wrapping it around the cut gently, as to not hurt him any further. It was quiet, albeit the awkward kind. The two were so close to each other, and barely even knew each other, which made it all the more awkward.
Y/N decided to take initiative in veering the whole atmosphere into something more relaxed for the two of them, playing the small talk card, one of the things she was pretty skilled at when it came to social interactions.
“So… how’d you get this cut anyway?”
Unlike Y/N, small talk wasn’t Gwi Nam’s strong suit in any way shape or form. He was more direct with his words, more on the nose, so to speak.
“I was fighting some asshole, and somehow he got me pretty bad on the arm.” His bluntness caught Y/N off guard.
She hummed in response, concentrating on bandaging the wound as neatly as she could. “Why do you fight people anyway? I mean, all it does is lead to unnecessary injuries like this.” Gwi Nam shrugged, not saying anything more. The heavy silence returned, but now more relaxed than before.
Once she was done, Y/N tied it into a nice bow, smiling to herself, and turning to look at Gwi Nam to tell him she was finished. She was surprised to find him staring at her, a fascinated look on his face.
“I- I’m done.” She cleared her throat, rubbing her thumb across the wound, something she did to whatever ‘project’ she was finished with. She retracted her hand, realising what she had done, but felt it being pulled back by a warm hand.
Her mouth fell agape as she glanced at their hands, then at Gwi Nam. “Thank you.” He thanked quietly, a small smile on his face, before letting go, the warmth gone as quick as it had come. Getting up, he left Y/N crouching there, sneaking one last glance back at her before heading off, thoughts of the girl that had helped him filling his mind for the rest of the day, and for the 3 years he hadn’t seen her for.
Present day, 7 hours after the outbreak.
Gwi Nam stalked the halls of the school, keeping his eyes (or, um, eye 😃) out for Cheong San. The little imp who had taken his eye out. His hands itched in need to get to that eye of his, to make him feel what he felt when he gouged his eye out.
Zombies limped around him pathetically, and he kicked one in the back just for the heck of it. God, these guys were idiots.
A foreign smell hit him then. Except, it wasn’t that foreign; rather, there was a hint of familiarity laced in it somewhere, though he couldn’t place where he had smelled it before.
He decided that Cheong San could wait. After all, where the hell could he and his idiot friends could go right now? He scoffed, and continued to track the scent, finding it leading to a random classroom.
He couldn’t look inside it though, as the windows had been covered up with paper. There were probably more zombies here before, but the halls were relatively clear now, save for a few of them at the end of the hall.
Gwi Nam tried sliding the door open, but found it locked. “Fuck, of course it’s locked.”
He knocked on the door, tapping his foot impatiently, and putting on his best pleading voice he could muster.
“Please, help me! Open the door, please!”
Y/N lifted her head from her arms. She had fallen asleep, but was awaken by the cries she had heard outside. She felt torn. Her mind told her no, sensibly reasoning that they could be infected, but her heart told her to let them in, reckless and blinded by pity.
The knocking became more hurried and desperate by the second, and before she could give it a second thought, Y/N was in front of the door. If she was bitten, then this was on her. She unlocked the door, sliding the door open a smidge.
She was met with a boy, bloody all over and his eye…
His eye. She went to slide the door back in place, but he grabbed it, stopping it from sliding back.
She whimpered, lip quivering as she tried pushing it shut again. He was shockingly strong, sliding the door open with his one hand even as Y/N tried sliding the door shut with all her might.
“What, what do you want?” Y/N asked, carefully backing away, trying not to sound scared.
She scanned the guy’s face, thinking of who the hell this guy could be, but her mind felt cloudy in panic. The boy slid the door shut, locking it behind him. Oh god. She was going to die, she was going to die.
“You seem familiar…” he remarked, walking toward her, an inquisitive look on his face.
Could it be who he thought she was?
“Who the hell are you?”
This girl was brave, very brave, and she smelled so sweet…
Y/N’s back hit the wall, and now she was trapped, with some guy who was vaguely familiar to her (and kinda hot, although she would never ever admit it.)
Gwi Nam leaned in closer, and Y/N tried pressing herself closer to the wall, a feeble and foolish attempt at getting further away from him, as he leaned in closer to her, reeking of the sharp smell of blood.
He stared into her eyes, those familiar eyes, warm and full of emotion.
No, it couldn’t be her, could it?
Gwi Nam was about to say something when the girl’s eyes widened, and a look of familiarity hit her.
“Wait… you’re Gwi Nam, aren’t you?”
Gwi Nam smirked. “The one and only.”
“I can wrap that eye for you.”
Gwi Nam froze, the smirk being wiped off his face instantly. Those words…
It was her. It was really her.
“It’s you…”
Gwi Nam approached Y/N slowly, mouth open, not knowing what to say. They were so close again, like they had been 3 years ago.
He placed a hand on her cheek. “Are you alright?”
“I-I’m good.” She whispered, giving him a small smile and looking into his eye. His other gouged out eye looked horrible, and she thought of repeating what she did all those years ago…
“I meant what I said. I can wrap that eye for you.”
Gwi Nam nodded, taking in her features all at once. Those 3 years she had been on his mind, day and night. It was kind of the bare minimum, what she did, yet it felt like the world to him. He liked how it made him feel; warm, happy and loved. And now, he had the chance to experience it all over again.
“I actually have a few more serious wounds for you to look at.”
Y/N nodded, taking his hand and bringing him over to where there were two chairs for them both to sit on. “Wait here.”
Y/N looked around the class, trying to find something to use to wrap Gwi Nam’s wounds, or a first aid kit, even.
She spotted one hanging on the wall near the teacher’s desk, and grabbed it.
Sitting back down, Y/N felt deja vu as she was about to ask a question that mirrored her own in 9th grade.
“You’ll need to…”
“Take off my jacket for this?” Gwi Nam smiled.
“Yeah.” Y/N breathed.
He shrugged his jacket off, revealing his black long sleeve shirt. “I have a lot of wounds on my shoulders too.”
“Oh. I guess you’ll also have to, you know.”
Taking his shirt off, Y/N tried her best not to stare at his six pack, and instead focus on… his… wounds…
His wounds…
Oh god.
She got up from her chair, slowly backing away, much to Gwi Nam’s confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
Y/N pointed at him, horrified. “You were bitten.” Her voice went hoarse, and she found herself frozen in place.
“Oh.” He simply said. “These? Yeah, I was bitten, but that was hours ago, so I think I’m immune.” He got up, taking a step toward her, but she took a step back in turn.
“Look, I’m fine, people turn in less than a minute, so I’m all good. You don’t need to worry, okay?”
Her back hit a wall again. This was the end.
She submitted to it, closing her eyes, awaiting the cracking of Gwi Nam’s bones, and for him to charge at her, sinking his teeth into her.
“I would never hurt you.”
“Stay away from me.”
“Please, let me hold you and prove I won’t.”
Y/N reopened her eyes, looking straight at Gwi Nam. He looked hurt, desperate; her heart ached at his display of raw emotion.
She barely knew him, yet she felt like she had known him her whole life. He had that effect on her, knew how to hit her heart in all the right spots.
Despite all the things he’d done, she felt like this. Despite her mind telling her to push him away, her heart yearned to finally do this.
Y/N nodded, stepping forward, and Gwi Nam wrapped his arms around her. He felt as though everything he had found everything he needed now, as if new beginning had found it’s way to him.
They stayed like that for a while, and when Y/N was finally sure he wouldn’t turn, she pulled away, her arms still around his torso as she looked up at him, Gwi Nam, some random guy she helped wrap a wound for in 9th grade.
“Do you believe me now?”
Y/N nodded.
He smiled at her, one of his most genuine ones in the past few years, then cleared his throat.
He slowly let go of Y/N turning to grab his shirt and jacket from the chair. “I’m glad you do. Maybe you won’t need to bandage me up then, I’ll just-”
Y/N grabbed his wrist, stopping Gwi Nam in his tracks. He turned back to Y/N, who had her mouth open slightly.
“It’s fine, I can still wrap them for you.”
She led him back to the chairs, sitting down, and opening the first aid kit, taking the gauze roll out. She could almost feel the warmth of spring, the season when she and Gwi Nam first met.
She took out a couple alcohol wipes, tearing the packaging open, looking to him before cleaning the first wound. He gave her a small smile, and she took it as a sign to start. The acohol wipe felt cool on Gwi Nam’s wound, a slight sting accompanying it after, but he could bear it a little better now. Rolling the gauze around the bite, Y/N tied it into the same bow she did the last time she wrapped him up, rubbing her hand across her ‘handiwork’, a habit she still kept to this day.
Gwi Nam’s smile only grew wider at this.
It was quiet again, but more welcoming, more comforting. It was when Y/N was on the second bite on his bicep that Gwi Nam finally mustered the courage to ask her a question he’d been meaning to ask her ever since that day she’d tended to his cut.
“Hey.”
Y/N looked up momentarily from her work, and Gwi Nam took her features in, the way her eyes widened upon being called, her slight pout, her brows rising.
“It’s funny, you know. We’ve done this same thing twice now, and I don’t even know your name.”
Y/N smiled, looking back at Gwi Nam’s bite, “Well, I suppose now is the time for us to finally do this first impression thing right, hm?”
Gwi Nam grinned, and Y/N looked up after tying the gauze into a bow then, sticking her hand out to Gwi Nam and grinning. “Hi, I’m Y/N L/N.”
Gwi Nam took her hand in his, the grin still prominent on his face. “I’m Yoon Gwi Nam.”
After Y/N was finished tending to Gwi Nam, they finally had an actual conversation with one another, learning things about the other and enjoying each others company, as if there weren’t blood thirsty zombies a door away from them now.
✧.* ·˚ ༘
“Yes! I’m telling you, I actually saw it happen!”
Gwi Nam scoffed, “You’re such a liar.”
Y/N shoved him playfully, earning her a laugh from him.
And then the quiet returned.
Right now they were both leaning against the wall behind the teacher’s desk, with Y/N’s knees to her chest, and Gwi Nam with a knee up, and his other leg lounging on the floor.
The world seemed to still as they shared this moment together, where they could just forget of all their troubles and enjoy being in the others presence. It was dark out now, the moonlight shining in through the small cracks where the paper didn’t stick well.
It all felt… strange, to Y/N. All of this, her and Gwi Nam, the fact that she felt some sort of attraction to him, it felt so weird, yet so familiar to her.
He was a bully, mean and an asshole in so many ways, yet when he was with her, Y/N could barely imagine him actually hitting a person. He was sweet, loving, understanding.
He told her of how when he was a child, his mother had died after getting into a car accident, and so he was left in the care of his stepfather.
He told her of how his stepfather acted as if Gwi Nam wasn’t even there. Sure, he cared for him, bought him clothes, fed him, put a roof over his head; but he never once acted as if he were even a child of his, never once spent time with him. Gwi Nam tried everything to gain his attention, and yet, no matter how much he tried, it never worked. He was still nothing to his stepfather.
Y/N felt for him, understanding why Gwi Nam was the way he was. No, she wasn’t justifying it, all the things he’d done were horrible, period; but now she knew the root of why he became who he was today.
Maybe that’s why he had looked so weirded out when Y/N offered to help with his wound that day.
Maybe now, she could help him through his issues, and love him; because underneath the hard crust that was the mean bully Gwi Nam, were all his best qualities, awaiting their moment of glory.
Maybe she was the one who could help him shine.
Love was strange when it came to Y/N, a friend, but an enemy all in one. It treated her badly at times, but would reward her kindly at others. Now, she felt like love was rewarding her. For what deed it was repaying her back for, she didn’t know, but she knew that she loved every second of it.
He took a deep breath in, and Y/N followed, closing her eyes. Gwi Nam took her in again, how at peace she looked, how joy was etched into every inch of her face. It was like she was made to bring happiness wherever she went, spreading it to others lucky enough to be around her.
Y/N, now feeling like she was being stared at, reopened her eyes, looking to Gwi Nam with curiosity. “Can I help you?”
“You already have.” Gwi Nam whispered.
He placed a hand on her cheek, and Y/N leaned into it.
“Y/N, I…”
He looked to her lips, then back at her eyes. Y/N’s breath hitched as she awaited his next move.
She closed her eyes again, letting the moment happen before her.
Gwi Nam smiled before kissing her, their mouths moving in sync with each other. He placed his other hand on her cheek, and she moved closer to him, tangling her hands into his hair, both smiling throughout the kiss.
It felt like everything else didn’t matter in that moment, as if shooting stars began showering down, making their moment all the more magical. Love had never seemed more real than now.
Y/N pulled away, both of them gasping for air, eliciting giggling from the two of them. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you, for showing me what love feels like, thank you, for being so loving.” Gwi Nam rested his forehead against hers, appreciating everything that led up to them meeting, even the asshole who had given him that cut 3 years ago.
thanks for reading <3 ₊˚ପ⊹
i promise i’ll work on requests asap! i’ve just got alot going on now that’s keeping me busy.
anyway, requests are still open, so request now before i close em <3
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ballorawan740 · 3 years
Text
SCP Scenarios: When you try you commit suicide (REQUESTED)
SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials
WARNING: If you are or know anyone who is suicidal, please get them help! If this topic triggers you, please leave now!
And if anyone's putting you down and you feel this way, let me know (So I can yah yeet them into hell and back again then throw them into 939 and 682's cell >:D)
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SCP 073 (Cain)
Cain's heart drop when he figured out that you were suicidal
He probably has figured out bits and pieces since he noticed that you've acted a lot more different than usual
You came from a very abusive family and everyone around you were toxic
Then you came into the foundation and worked hard enough to stress you out
Didn't help that much since your mentor died from an SCP and some of your coworkers were being bullies to you
Which then drove you to become even more suicidal
Found out much later when someone called him in because you were at the medical bay
Glass was sat there beside you and wanted to check up on you
No responses were heard and Glass turned to see Cain's pained look
He told Cain everything that has happened and he was truly heartbroken by all this news
Cain had tried to comfort you and would give you some space if you need
Would remind you every so often that he loves you and makes sure that you're taking breaks
Definitely dealt with the bullies without you knowing
SCP 076-2 (Abel)
He's quite dense so he might not know that you're suicidal
Probably noticed a few changes in your behaviour but wouldn't question it
Definitely didn't try and threaten to kill everyone once he found out that you were injured
Stormed into the medical part of the Foundation and asked for you
Was about to drag you back to his cell but was stopped abruptly because the doctor who was treating you said the scars were from yourself
Abel looked at you with confusion and hurt
He allowed you to rest in the hospital for a couple of days and asked so many questions
And realising that it was because of your PTSD working with the Foundation and not wanting to stress further
Swore to protect you for all of eternity and wouldn't allow you to go back on the field
So you settled to work in an office instead, handling safe classes and taking some time off
Abel monitored you to make sure you don't do it again
Definitely gave you a huge lecture
It was loud enough for the whole floor to hear and everyone just stopped what they're doing just to see what was happening
SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)
To say 999's little jello heart shattered to a million pieces was an understatement
Nobody has ever seen a bright orange blob of happiness looked so worried and somewhat traumatised as he had received the news
That said news was you trying to commit suicide
And fortunately, there were people around to stop you from hurting yourself even more
999 slithered over as quick as possible and went in to check on you
The first thing he did was to give you a big warm hug and to tell you that he cared about you and you meant everything to him
He never complained about you once and you were grateful for that
999 didn't question your reason for suicide since he knows it'll make things worse and that you'd open up to him whenever you were ready
He saw many of the scars you have on your body and was immediately concerned
Noticing this, you explained your situation to him and he was very much understanding
999 would comfort and support your decisions in not trying to commit suicide
Everyone outside just peeked in and was relieved that you've agreed to work on this together with 999
SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)
When 682 heard that you wanted to commit suicide, he was confused and concerned
Part of him wanted to know why and the other part told him that you were stupid for doing that
The both of you were transferred into another room as requested by 682
The very first thing he did was to shout at you for doing something so stupid
Moments later after you cried for a bit, he checked up on you, asking if you were alright, making sure you were comfortable and nuzzled your side for a bit
Once you were relaxed, you've told him everything that's been happening and he listened for once
Which did surprise the researchers when they found out moments later
Unfortunately, 682 did breach containment just to hunt down whoever made you feel that way and he did succeed
Then casually went back to his cell which shocked everyone, even you
Well, let's just say that you were feeling much better and nobody ever bothered you again
SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)
049 was sus since you were acting strange lately
He had 100% noticed the scars but didn't ask, thinking that you went on a mission and you were just injured and you went to the medics
Later on, his heart dropped when he heard someone say that you seemed like ending your life, which you did
He came into the room you were in and checked on your injuries and scars
You could see the pain in his eyes when he connected the dots and you didn't need to say a thing for him to understand that you did all this to yourself
049 just sighed a little, took a chair and sat on it then nursed your injuries and gave you such a disapproving look
"Who is it this time?" he asked which shocked you since you've never told him explicitly that something or someone bothered you
But you weren't that surprised since your bird boi is observant af
So you just told him everything and he dealt with the situation professionally
And whoever/whatever's bothering you just vanished out of thin air and nobody ever questioned it
SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)
As I've mentioned in the other chapters, 035 is a master manipulator and actor/actress
So when it comes to body language and the tone you'd use when talking to someone, he would have an idea of what's going on
So when you secluded yourself every passing day and would avoid talking about reoccurring scars on your body, 035 would have quite an accurate guess
When he confronted you about this, you shied away from him for a moment
Since you know 035 well, you just told him everything as he listened intently
He just absorbed all the negativity from you and you just felt better
035 would reassure you and you blindly listened and feel much better with him
And of course, like any other partners out there, he dove into whoever was making you feel suicidal and sorted it all out
After a couple of days, you went back into 035's cell and asked about the missing person
All 035 told you was that the person just got eaten by some SCP and nobody knows how the said person got there
SCP 105 (Iris)
Iris might question your scars here and there if you ever had them
She might not even think that you were suicidal until you showed the obvious traits or if someone told her that you were in the medical bay
Would 100% lecture you about being suicidal then comfort you a second after she's done
She's just super worried about you and even though she's in the foundation with you most of the time, there are moments where she's asked to go into the field with the MTFs
As Iris is rightfully worried about you, if she can't stay with you, she'd make Cain, Dr Glass and Dr Lights watch over you
Maybe Kondraki if he's ok with this
Might even go to Clef and/or Bright if she really needs to
At least they can keep your minds off things
Iris would tend to any of your scars and injuries and motivate you to live
Shows you loads of photos of the happier times you've both shared
Would never let you touch anything that can cause you an injury
Definitely would deal with whoever's making you feel that way if there was that someone
SCP 106 (Old Man)
106 would probably find it hard to grasp the concept of emotions other than the few basic ones
So when he was informed about your attempted suicide, he was confused
not because he didn't understand it, because he definitely did
It's just because he never understood why anyone would do such a thing
Even more so if that person was you
When 106 came to visit you, he would unintentionally show his worried expression which saddened you
Is definitely torn between just comforting you and wanting to ask you about your issue
You did tell him at the end about you wanting to commit suicide and 106 telling you to never do such a thing
Making sure that if someone made you feel this way, he'd deal with them right away and you'd never have to worry again
Although he finds it hard to sympathise with others, he did understand the term, so he would try his best to do so
SCP 096 (Shy Guy)
He's basically 106 but a little denser
096 is 100% more anxious than the other SCPs here and would definitely show signs while he's being observed in his cell
Kind of understands the term 'suicide' but not to a full extent
Like he knows what it is, but not how and why people would do so
When 096 got the news about this from your psychologist, he literally went brrrrrr
Went to check in on you and gave you a bone-crushing hug
Made sure that any injuries were properly bandaged and treated
Started to cry midway through
You explained to him that you didn't go all the way because you knew that he needed you and you'd never leave him alone again
096's worried expression slowly turned to happiness and gave you another hug
Dr Jack bright
Bright would notice something's off with you but wouldn't say a thing just yet
Like if he notices that whatever is happening to you has worsened then he'll confront you
At first, you would avoid his gaze and questions, but you ended up telling him everything that's been happening
Bright was shocked and conflicted about all this information
You could literally see him tearing up as he was trying to find the words but couldn't
He ended up giving you a big teddy bear hug
And you just cried into his shoulder/chest
Jack Bright would try his best to comfort you because he wants to take all the pain away
Whenever he's on break, he'd make sure to check up on you
If he was busy and can't visit you, he would make sure to send someone to check up on you
Most likely Dr Glass
Would tell you about his dark thoughts as well
Only because he understands and you wouldn't feel alone about this
Dr Simon Glass
Glass would definitely know
He's a psychologist after all
Would find a way to get you to be more vocal about the issue
And it's quite subtle so you wouldn't know
Once he gets all the information he needs, he'll start to find ways to minimise the chances of you feeling suicidal
He's just so subtle about this that you wouldn't even know
Once you feel better, Glass feels more relaxed knowing that he helped you overcome the issue
Would 100% still watch out for you in case it happens again
Everybody else notices this and helps poor mama Glass look out for you too
Wouldn't necessarily beat up anyone if they hurt you but would definitely give some warning signs to back off though
Sometimes our hardworking Dr Iceberg ends up helping him because mama Glass is busy af
Dr Alto Clef
As dense as he may seem when it comes to emotions, he is very much aware of your unusual behaviour
Would most likely ask for some advice from Dr Glass
By ask I mean he booked in a therapy session for you and tricked you into going
And yes, you did end up going to see Glass
Simon then informed about your situation with Clef and he was stunned
If it was someone/something making you feel this way then he'd go out of his way to sort it out
After all, Clef is rather good at completing missions
Makes sure to comfort you whenever you're down and suicidal
Sometimes he'd even share his experiences with you
Would try and act goofy but came out rather annoying
Ended up asking Bright to help him cheer you up
Dr Benjamin Kondraki
Kondraki is a little dense but would notice something's off
Wouldn't be 100% sure so he just keeps the thought to himself instead
Would also go to Glass for some advice about your strange behaviour
Glass ended up teaching Kondraki some psychological stuff just so he can be left alone for once
Would never make you feel down about yourself
Definitely would motivate and compliment you
Acts all fatherly with you
Like he's protective with you to the point some people would jokingly say he's your dad
Making you share a room with him because he's worried and wouldn't act up weirdly when you're along
Kondraki might resort to asking Bright and Clef for some help
Might even ask Iceberg to do some of his paperwork because he wants to spend more time with you
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Associates - Part 2 - ao3, pt 1
“What’s this I hear about you getting up in Nie Huaisang’s face?” Jiang Cheng demanded the instant Wei Wuxian reached the front door of the inn. The tone was so familiar, so usual for him – irritated yet fond despite himself – that it took a moment for Wei Wuxian to realize that the question wasn’t anything like what he was expecting.
Not least of all because he wasn’t expecting Jiang Cheng to be there in the first place.
“What?” he said blankly, and then – “Wait, did you not put it together yet? He’s the one that planned the whole thing with Jin Guangyao –”
“Yes, I know that,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “Still, don’t associate with evil? Who the fuck are you to say something like that to anyone, least of all to him?”
Wei Wuxian crossed his arms in front of himself, his shoulders going up to his ears. “You still think I’m evil, then?”
“No, I think you’re a fucking brat, but also that if you were schemed against then you certainly didn’t make it hard for them to do it,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his own arms and glaring. “Or was all the arrogance and insulting people and throwing the first punch when they came at you at the Qiongqi Path and throwing arrows at people at the Nightless City and deliberately setting up cultivators to murder each other before jumping off a cliff all things that Jin Guangyao made you do, too?”
Wei Wuxian winced.
“I have other examples,” Jiang Cheng said pointedly. “Anyway, come inside, I’ll buy you some wine, if you call what this stupid inn serves wine.”
“I wasn’t planning on staying here,” Wei Wuxian lied.
“It’s the only inn in a half-day walk,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “It’s also about to rain, and you already gave the innkeeper’s son your donkey to take to the stable. Will you come inside already? I’m not going to bite.”
Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be convinced by this faultless logic. “You came about the water demons, too?”
“I don’t think they’re water demons,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I checked the river, it’s fine, so it must be something similar leaving the same sort of traces…waiter! Service now, if it’s not too much to ask!”
The wine was passable, if barely, but the food served with it was filling in just the right way.
“This seems out of the way for you,” Wei Wuxian commented. He’d been traveling randomly as a rogue cultivator for months and months now, the way he always dreamed of doing, and he spent the entire time wondering why it felt empty; he suspected it was the same reason he turned sharply to look any time he saw white out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t quite willing to admit it out loud yet. If he did, he’d have to face up to the fact that there was nothing stopping him from turning his feet and Lil’ Apple’s hooves back towards Gusu and the Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji, and if he did that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving again so quickly.
“I heard you were in the area,” Jiang Cheng said, which made Wei Wuxian feel warm inside. “I wanted to yell at you.”
Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.
Jiang Cheng really must have forgiven him, he thought, unable to resist smiling. Jiang Cheng yelled at those he loved and ignored those he hated – it was when Jiang Cheng didn’t look at you that you should worry, and when he looked at you and was silent…that was the worst of all.
“I did,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Seriously. Nie Huaisang. What were you thinking?”
“Are you saying that what he did wasn’t evil?” Wei Wuxian asked.
“I’m saying I would have done the same thing if it was you or jiejie,” Jiang Cheng said, looking down at his jar of wine. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”
Wei Wuxian hesitated. If it had been Jiang Cheng that had been poisoned by his own anger, by someone he trusted – betrayed into dying in just the way he’d feared most – and it was possible, wasn’t it? Jiang Cheng had trusted Jin Guangyao - he’d raised Jin Ling alongside him, never suspecting…
“Don’t answer that,” Jiang Cheng said quickly, just as Wei Wuxian said, “I would have.”
Jiang Cheng looked at him, surprised.
“Probably not in the same way,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “I would have avenged you, but I wouldn’t have – he put so many people in danger, what he did, the way he did it. He put Jin Ling in danger.”
“Jin Ling put Jin Ling in danger,” Jiang Cheng said. “As he always does. You have no idea the trouble magnet that brat is. And as for Nie Huaisang…you’re being unfair.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. He’s not like you, the you that you used to be. He’s weak. He’s not good at doing things. He’s not powerful, he’s not a genius; he had to learn everything the hard way…anyway, not everyone’s you, willing to gamble everything on trying to do the ‘right thing’. He had a sect to take care of.”
Just like me, Jiang Cheng didn’t say, but Wei Wuxian heard it anyway. And in the end, all the bravado and recklessness of his last life – it had been the right thing to do, but all he’d won for the Wen sect was another year or so of living in fear before they’d walked willingly to their deaths into the hands of the Jin sect on his behalf. In the end, only A-Yuan had been truly saved, and even that was only because of Lan Wangji’s intervention.
Wei Wuxian didn’t regret his actions, but maybe if he could go back in time, he might’ve done things a little differently. He might’ve been more restrained in his actions, been more cautious, less willing to get into fights, less willing to allow his terrible reputation to spread without bothering to correct it – he might have been a little more thoughtful about all the obligations that so suddenly had settled on his shoulders.
Thought about the ones that had been there all along, invisible.
“And Mo Xuanyu?” Wei Wuxian asked, still unwilling to give up so easily. “Put aside leading us all on a wild goose chase, risking all our lives at the Burial Mounds –”
“Something which brought to light a hidden threat, or did you think Su She would just volunteer himself?”
“Putting that aside, Mo Xuanyu died to bring me back. Is that nothing?”
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “A man’s life is his own. Nie Huaisang might’ve paid someone to tell stories about you, but he didn’t take a knife to Mo Xuanyu’s bones; Mo Xuanyu did that. If you really want to start talking about the subject of indirect blame for other people’s death…”
“Fair point,” Wei Wuxian said begrudgingly. “Fine. Perhaps I was being harsh.”
“You were,” Jiang Cheng agreed. “Not to mention stupid and short-sighted, again. Do you know he’s taken to referring to you by name?”
Wei Wuxian frowned. “So what?”
Jiang Cheng glared at him, but he also put some extra meat in Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “So, he’s been calling you Wei-xiong since the Cloud Recesses, even after you got famous as the Yiling Patriarch, even after you were dead and your name black as coal, and now, now he calls you Wei Wuxian? Because he thinks you hate him? Even if you just wanted to be a jackass, is he really someone you want to make your enemy?”
Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.
He never really wanted anyone as his enemy, not really – excluding maybe Wen Chao, Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Zhuliu, who deserved it – but least of all did he want his enemy to be Nie Huaisang as he last saw him: blank-eyed and tired, older than he should be, the smile on his face as smooth and insincere as anything that Jin Guangyao had ever tried; the dagger in the dark finally brought out to the light.
Anyone who could smile like that after having pulled off a years-long plot that led the entire cultivation world around by the nose –
No, Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.
“Surely enemy is a strong word for a bit of formality,” he said, but Jiang Cheng gave him a look and he had to admit even to himself that he didn’t believe it. Nie Huaisang was overly intimate with everyone he could be, and he’d never heard of him stepping back after he’d established the closer level; he even called Jin Guangyao san-ge until the very moment of his death. Maybe he still did. “Well, shit.”
“Exactly,” Jiang Cheng said.
“How do you even know about that?” Wei Wuxian asked. It’d only been the three of them at that conversation – him and Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang – and Lan Wangji wasn’t a gossip.
“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng said promptly, as he’d expected. “He wanted to let me know that there were no hard feelings if I decided to break treaty with him.”
“If you – what?” Wei Wuxian stared at him. “Break treaty? All the trade routes and boundary lines and – and everything, all the connections between the Nie sect and the Jiang sect…why in the world would you ever break treaty? Why would he even suggest that?”
“Because of you, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was there for the whole – you know – when we had it all out at the temple. He knows the whole story, he knows how much I owe you; if you decided to come tell me what you told him in Hanguang-jun’s presence, do not associate with evil –”
“I wouldn’t!” Wei Wuxian protested. He’d been ‘evil’ before, the one who was shunned and rejected by all; he’d never go around riling people up to exclude another the way he’d been excluded.
Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You wouldn’t do it deliberately, but you also said to his face that you wouldn’t associate with him. Do you know how that sounds? Association is association, even by proxy. He figured we’d make up eventually, and then that’s Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin both against him, since Jin Ling tends to follow my lead and likes you, and of course there’s you and Lan Wangji…”
Leaving only Qinghe Nie out in the cold, alone and isolated.
Do not associate with evil.
Yeah, Wei Wuxian could see the problem. He wouldn’t even have to lead the charge himself the way Jin Guangshan had against him; he would just need to hint at his disapproval, and he had enough sway with enough of the right people that they might change their actions just to please him, and then where would Nie Huaisang be?
Offering not to take it personally when Jiang Cheng turned his back on him even though they’d been friends ever since their days at the Cloud Recesses, apparently.
Wei Wuxian had by this point teamed up enough with the junior troop to have heard the stories from Jin Ling and the others to piece together how the time when he’d been dead must had gone. Nie Huaisang might have relied heavily on his brother’s two sworn brothers to run his sect and keep his position, but he’d always been very friendly with Jiang Cheng, and it’d been his unstinting support (brainless support, the juniors had said on automatic before realizing that they had no idea if it was brainless or not) that had helped Jiang Cheng keep pace with the others, to not get left out.
Yeah, fine. Wei Wuxian was, perhaps, being something of a dick. He got that.
“Are we?” he asked instead of conceding, because ‘sorry’ had always been something he’d needed to build up to. “Going to make up eventually?”
“Of course we are,” Jiang Cheng said. “You literally came back from the dead, and then we got stuck in a temple with a villain that helpfully explained all of our problems to us in the process of nearly killing us. If that’s not a sign from the heavens that we’re going to get over this eventually, what is?”
Wei Wuxian had to give him that one. “All right,” he said. “Good.”
“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, shoulders relaxing a little when Wei Wuxian didn’t rebuff him. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“What do you mean? The water demons – or, well, not water demons –”
“No, I mean, why are you…you know, wandering around everywhere,” Jiang Cheng said. “I would’ve figured you’d be at the Cloud Recesses.”
“I probably will be, eventually,” Wei Wuxian said, admitting it for the first time to himself as well. “But I need some time to stretch my legs, get the wanderlust out. Be without burdens for a little while. And then, when I’m clear about – a lot of things, then I’ll go back to him.”
“I figured as much,” Jiang Cheng said. He looked a little uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something, but was thinking better of it. “Well, you’re always welcome to come by the Lotus Pier. Obviously.”
It wasn’t obvious at all, and Wei Wuxian was so glad to hear it that his heart hurt in his chest.
“I will,” he said, swallowing down his questions about what Jiang Cheng had been about to say. It couldn’t have been that important, anyway. “I will. Promise.”
“Good.”
“Want to tell me about the not-water demons you’ve been investigating?” Wei Wuxian suggested.
Jiang Cheng looked incredibly relieved to have the feelings part of the conversation over with. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I started by checking out the area where they’ve been reporting the disappearances –”
(Much later, Wei Wuxian will ask Jiang Cheng why didn’t you tell me that Lan Zhan was drowning! and Jiang Cheng will say I thought you knew! Wei Wuxian will shout of course I didn’t know and you let him get wrangled up by Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng will say sorry I thought you knew how to take a hint or did you leave your brain behind in the afterlife and Wei Wuxian will seriously consider punching him.
But that was later.)
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yeojaa · 4 years
Text
ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)
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He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.
alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.
pairing.  jeon jungkook
genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.
warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 
reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.
word count.  ~3400
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part i.
JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.
It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.
One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?
"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  
Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.
When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.
"Thanks, you too."
Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"
Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  
"Should I?"
"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."
He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  
"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.
"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."
It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  
"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  
Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  
As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.
BOOM.
The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.
"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  
He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."
"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."
You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 
"Show-off!"   
Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.
Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"
"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 
There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  
"Thanks for the damage boost."
"Any time."
Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.
"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 
"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  
"Too much fun, I think."  
"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.
"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."
Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"
"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 
"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 
Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."
"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 
"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 
"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 
"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  
You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"
For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 
"Woah - says the Mercy player?"
"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"
"Sure, e-girl."  
"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  
"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.
He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  
"Any time, BigMelon."  
"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?
"What'd you say?"  
There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.
It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 
"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"
You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  
Another one?
He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  
"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  
"Not the word I'd use."
"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 
"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  
"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  
You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 
"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 
The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  
"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 
As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.
"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.
VICTORY flashes across his screen.  
"We sure did, BigMelon."
The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  
"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.
"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.
Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 
"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.
Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.
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JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.
It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  
“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”
Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.
He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.
"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  
"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  
As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.
It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.
But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."
"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."
"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  
It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  
Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  
"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.
Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  
Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.
Different, but nice.
"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"
And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  
It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  
He eats it up like he's been starved of it.
"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.
It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.
"You should make something to eat!"
He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."
"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.
"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.
As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  
Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  
It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.
He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  
There's just something about you. 
And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  
Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  
But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.
Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 
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notes.  i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)
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